XX. THE RETREAT…

XX. THE RETREAT

Although a big German offensive had been expected for some weeks, and elaborate preparations to meet it had been made during the winter months, there were few signs of the eve of a big battle when the Civil Service Rifles, after a two hours’ train journey from Etricourt, arrived at Winchester Valley late in the evening of the 19th of March, and relieved the 1st Berkshire Regiment (2nd Division) in Lincoln Reserve, the support line on Beaucamp Ridge, near Villers Plouich. The Poplar and Stepneys and London Irish were in the front line, and the 20th of March passed off very quietly.

It was thought that the Brigade was in for another spell of peaceful trench warfare, similar to those experienced before the short and pleasant stay at Manancourt. The rumours of the coming battle, which had been so strong during the winter months, had, in fact, begun to die down. The optimistic went so far as to think that the enemy attack would not take place, whilst the “quietly confident,” thinking of the days of strenuous digging on those wide trenches behind the Hindenburg Line--the “Tank traps”--with the miles of barbed wire obstacles which had been erected all around, felt that, even if the enemy did launch a big attack, he would not get beyond the Hindenburg Line. Not even the most pessimistic had imagined the great crisis through which the Allied armies were to pass before another month was over. Nor was there any indication in the daily routine that the authorities were anticipating such a titanic struggle in the near future. Leave, regarded by the soldier as the most reliable “Military Barometer,” was still being granted, and the allotment was indeed very much better than at any other time during the war. Men were actually going home on leave within six months of their last arrival in France, and in such circumstances how could one take any but the rosiest view of the future? The German attack, if it came off at all, would probably be a repetition of Bourlon Wood, and after that both sides would settle down to another long spell of trench warfare. It was folly to talk, as the newspapers were doing, of a decisive battle.

When day broke on the 21st of March, however, it was clear that there had been some truth in the “big battle” rumours, for the first day of spring was heralded by such an intense enemy bombardment that there was no longer any doubt that the Bosche was making a supreme effort, beside which all his previous attacks faded into insignificance.

The difficulty at first was to find out where the attack was being pushed home, for in spite of the bombardment, which lasted from 4.30 a.m. until 11.0 a.m., there was no infantry engagement on the 21st of March on the 140th Brigade front. It was fortunate, too, that this was so, for the gas shells fell so freely all around that box respirators had to be worn continuously for six and a half hours.

There have been many attempts to write the story of the great retreat and, generally speaking, the experience of one battalion was much the same as that of any other. But it is well-nigh impossible to describe in detail the career of any unit throughout the most strenuous days of the fighting--the 21st to the 26th of March. During these days battalions often became split up into several parties engaged in different small fights, where none knew how the battle fared with their comrades in other parts of the field. The war correspondents, it is true, saw the Allied troops fighting every inch of ground, and killing thousands of Germans as they fell back, but it was difficult indeed for those engaged in the fighting to ascertain what the situation was, and a total lack of information was one of the outstanding features of the retreat. It was only when they ultimately got back into reserve, some days after, that the troops were able to learn from the newspapers that the Germans had been badly beaten all along the line. “Still,” thought the British Tommy, who had marched in six days across country covered by two ordnance maps, “I don’t altogether like this new style of winning the war.”

The story of the Civil Service Rifles during these critical days of their career in France is told briefly in the official War Diary, which contains just a simple record of their movements without any comment.

In that record it is told how the Battalion, which was in support in Lincoln Reserve on the morning of the 21st, became at night the front line battalion, the 17th and 18th Battalions having been withdrawn. The second day of the battle was quiet on the Civil Service Rifles’ front, and the Battalion remained undisturbed in Lincoln Reserve until the early hours of the 23rd, when, orders having been received to withdraw, a position was taken up on the Dessart Ridge Switch, on the right of the Metz-Fins Road. The line was complete by dawn, the dispositions being “A” Company on the left, with their left flank on the road and their right in touch with “B,” with “C” and “D” on the right of “B”: Battalion Headquarters was established in a bank about half a mile behind. “A” was afterwards, owing to congestion, withdrawn to a position slightly in rear of the two companies.

The 23rd of March was the most critical day in the career of the Civil Service Rifles in France. The official narrative disposes of it in less than a page, but a whole book could be written on the many situations which arose on that day, and the many acts of heroism, determination and devotion to duty performed by different members of the Battalion.

The story of the fighting can be followed more or less from the map on the opposite page.

Immediately the position on Dessart Ridge Switch was taken up, i.e., about 5.0 a.m., “D” Company on the right became engaged with the enemy, who attempted to rush in from the right flank, which was unprotected, and by 7.0 a.m. the Battalion was engaging the enemy all along the line. At 8.0 a.m. the enemy made a determined bombing attack on the right of “D” Company, and established machine gun posts which enfiladed the position. Shortly afterwards large numbers of troops were seen to be retiring, apparently from the position known as Metz Switch. Colonel Segrave went over and rallied these, and took them forward with his Headquarters Company to the ridge between Metz and Dessart Wood (east of the Metz-Fins Road), and took up a position facing east, and at right angles to the Dessart Switch line. This was done to form a rallying line for retiring troops and a defensive flank to Dessart Ridge Switch.

After shelling the whole area for an hour or two more, the enemy gained a little more ground and established further machine-gun posts, this time towards the left, south and south-east of Metz. Shortly after noon, troops on the left retired, leaving the left flank of the Civil Service Rifles exposed, and the Battalion now held an isolated position with the enemy working his way round both flanks. The Headquarters Company was accordingly withdrawn to the Vallulart Wood Line, and the remaining Companies, in the Dessart Switch Line facing South, continued the fight in the same position, forming a flank to what had been the third British system of defensive positions, now occupied by some Civil Service Rifles and other troops.

This third system and the Dessart Switch Line were abandoned at about 4.0 p.m., but “D” Company on the right had by this time been surrounded and was never extricated. The cause of this disaster was the fact that the Company’s right flank was completely “in the air” from the time it reached the position. Indeed, this may be said of every position the Battalion took up during the day. There was not at any time any support on the right flank, the troops of the 9th Division (5th Army) having already departed before the fighting began. Many explanations of these repeated withdrawals have since been made, both in after-dinner speeches and in statements to the Press. At least one book has been written on the subject. There was, and apparently still is, considerable difference of opinion as to the justification for the action of the troops of the 5th Army. This story is not concerned with the controversy. The statement is made simply to illustrate how the Civil Service Rifles, on the right of the 47th Division, felt the full effect of the rapid withdrawal of the troops on their right.

The movements of the various parts of the Battalion after 4.0 p.m. on the 23rd are not even now very clear. Battalion Headquarters (less Headquarters Company) left the third system at 4.0 p.m. and moved to Rocquigny, when Colonel Segrave collected a party of about fifty and put them in position along a ridge north of Four Winds Farm, about a mile and a half south-west of Ytres, where they remained until the enemy drove them out at dusk.

At this point the official narrative breaks down with the remark: “By this time the remnants of the Civil Service Rifles were split up into so many parties, whose movements are too complicated to follow.” The survivors from those small parties, remembering their night of wandering in the dark over rough and strange country, and their inexplicable reunion at dawn, will bear out the truth of the last sentence.

By 9.0 a.m. on the twenty-fourth, the Battalion had been reduced to a mere handful of troops, who were worn out by their twenty-four hours’ continuous fighting. The fate of the majority of the absentees was only too well known, but there were a good many missing whose fate was uncertain. The survivors, however, gallantly stuck to their task, and, numbering about 150, they took up a position under Colonel Segrave, just east of the Bapaume-Peronne road, and about a mile south-east of Le Transloy. Here they remained in support of a party of the 1st Surrey Rifles holding the higher ground to the east, until at noon they had to move back another two miles almost due west, and a position was taken up about half a mile south of Le Transloy and just off the western side of the Le Transloy-Combles road. This position was only held for three hours, when the party, now acting as a rearguard, moved round the western side of Le Transloy to a line north-east of Gueudecourt, whence they were withdrawn at 5.30 p.m. by order of the Brigade Commander through Gueudecourt and Flers to Martinpuich.

It was still light when Martinpuich was reached, and there were a few of the 150 or so survivors to whom the sight of the ruins of Eaucourt L’Abbé and the Flers Line recalled their grim struggle of October 1916. It was by no means a happy coincidence that brought the Civil Service Rifles back to this battlefield, where, eighteen months previously, they had paid such a price for the capture of High Wood. On their previous visit to this area they had been filled with confidence and the offensive spirit. They had felt they were really doing something towards winning the war. To retreat across the same country now made it seem as though all the labours of the past eighteen months had been wasted--the lives lost in vain. It had been better if this battlefield had not been reached until darkness had fallen, and perhaps spared those men the bitter reflections on the autumn of 1916 and all they had gone through since.

There was little time, however, for reminiscences, for only a very short stay was made in Martinpuich, and 10.0 p.m. found the Battalion reforming at Bazentin-le-Petit, where further officers and other ranks rejoining brought the strength up to about 230 all ranks. An outpost position was then taken up along the eastern edge of Bazentin-le-Petit and occupied until 10.0 a.m. on the 25th, when a withdrawal was made to Contalmaison Ridge, where the Battalion remained until 3.0 a.m. on the 26th.

After the rapid changes of position during the past two days it had seemed quite a long stay on Contalmaison Ridge, but the troops were not destined to settle there, and the next move was to Bouzincourt. The fighting had now ceased for the time being, so far, at least, as the Civil Service Rifles were concerned, but there was still no rest to be had, and it was not until after a five hours’ march via Contalmaison, La Boiselle and thence across country to Aveluy and Bouzincourt, that billets were reached. The Battalion was now supposed to be resting, but after eight hours in Bouzincourt, the men were on the march again, and at 4.0 p.m. on the 26th they trudged along to billets at Louvencourt, where the night was spent.

At 9.0 a.m. on the 27th the march was resumed and after a rest for an hour or two at Clairfaye Farm, a move was made to billets at Toutencourt, where a halt was made for quite twelve hours!

During these marches the Battalion had been in reserve, but now it began to move back to the front line, but before relieving the 6th Buffs (12th Division) in Aveluy Wood on the night of the 29th, a very welcome twenty-four hours’ rest had been enjoyed in billets at Warloy.

While the fighting portion of the Battalion had been having such a strenuous time in the retreat, the Administrative portion had also had plenty of excitement, and the men of the transport section and Quartermaster’s staff had frequently had to think about knocking the ashes out of their rifles and sharpening their bayonets during days when they were often in touch with the enemy. For a time they had to carry on as a separate unit, and the story of their travels is told in the following narrative contributed by Transport-Sergeant G. M. Sladden, to whom much credit is due for the withdrawal of the Regimental transport without the loss of a man or a horse.

“The period of the ‘Great Retreat’ was an arduous one for the Battalion Transport, entailing conditions vastly different from the ordered routine incidental to trench warfare. Their lines were stationed on the 21st March in a field on the Metz-Fins road, the Quartermaster’s stores being then in Metz, where the Battalion had been billeted prior to relieving the 2nd Division in the line. The stores were filled with an unusually heavy stock of material, including the blankets of the Battalion, the officers’ valises and the men’s packs. In fact, mobile conditions did not exist at this time.

“Early on the morning of the 22nd the hostile attack developed on our part of the front, and it rapidly became apparent that the attack was making headway, though hitherto no news had been heard of the great German success on the previous day further south. To the right was seen an aerial attack in great force on the 9th Division, of which some details soon began to pass in retreat by the transport lines. The officers’ mess cart, which had gone early to Nurlu canteen, returned to report the canteen shelled out and Nurlu deserted. Soon orders arrived that the Battalion was to retire after nightfall to the Dessart Switch line, and the Transport to withdraw to Bus. Accordingly, all wagons not required to take up rations and move the Battalion that night were sent off at once with loads to Bus, and orders to return for a second load as soon as possible. Blankets were sent first, valises were left for the second journey: but the congested state of the roads and the rapidity of the enemy advance upset all calculations. The A.S.C. wagons, which were to have cleared the Quartermaster stores, were prevented by the road controls from returning to Metz. Consequently, there are certain officers who cherish regretful memories of persistent but futile efforts to induce a harsh War Office to compensate them for the loss of valuable but non-regulation articles of kit. Some of the limbered wagons--luckier or perhaps swifter than the A.S.C. motors--got back to the Transport lines late that night and picked up second loads. They were none too soon, for as they finished loading they were fired upon by machine guns from a patrol which had reached the ridge overlooking the lines from a few hundred yards away. The wagons, luckily, were standing in a sunken road and down this they were able to escape without casualty. Meanwhile, the ration wagons had gone up to the line, where they found the front line now withdrawn to the support line and preparing to evacuate the position. Ammunition dumps--notably the great dump at Trescault--were being blown up all round: indications of a big retreat abounded. Having delivered rations, the column waited to pick up Lewis guns and other equipment, and to take them back to the new position. Gradually the guns came down until all but one had arrived; the Battalion was clear and platoons of other Battalions continued to file by--still no Lewis gun. Yet orders were definite, to wait till all the guns had come. But when the last platoon of the last Battalion had passed, it seemed certain that the missing gun must have gone some other way. The boy who stood on the burning deck was doubtless noble but certainly idiotic: moreover, it seemed possible that the fifteen guns on the wagons might be wanted. So orders were stoutly disobeyed and away went the wagons. They had been warned not to go back by the route by which they had come up, which had been reported occupied by the enemy; so in the blackness of a pitch-dark night, over unreconnoitred ground, they made a bee-line for the road between Metz and Trescault.

“Over hill, over dale, Through bush, through briar, Over park, over pale, Through trench, through wire--”

and hit it at last, though once nearly ingulfed in a bog. And so up the Fins road to the appointed place, where everything was safely handed over. The next stage was to the Transport lines, where the trekking loads of the wagons were waiting to be picked up; but, at a short distance from the lines, bullets coming from that direction made it appear probable that the enemy was in possession, and this was confirmed by the Battalion Intelligence Officer who happened to meet the column at this juncture. Nothing for it then but to get away and join up with the rest of the Transport at Bus.

“At Bus the whole of the Brigade Transport was standing by waiting orders to move; so the tired horses could not even be unharnessed. There was, however, opportunity to water and feed both for horse and man before a move was made, which was not actually until midday. The line of march was by Le Mesnil and Saillisel to Le Transloy, over by roads much cut up. At one point the column had to pass over a quaking bog, of which the thin crust had to be continually reinforced, after the passage at the gallop of each vehicle, with fascines, bits of plank, and anything that came handy. The prevailing fine weather was a god send; without it the column could not have passed this spot. Night had fallen before the column pulled off the road on to a shell-riddled stretch of the old Somme battlefield where wagons and horses could only stand higgledy-piggledy wherever a spot without a shell-hole could be found. Here the A.S.C. supply wagons were waiting, and at once rations were loaded on the limbers and sent off to find the Battalion. This was successfully done, and meanwhile the remaining horses and men were able to snatch a little sleep, though standing by to move at ten minutes’ notice. Orders were hourly expected, for the front line was falling back fast, and shortly before midnight part of it--in the shape of ‘A’ Company, which had lost touch--drifted into the lines in search of the rest of the Battalion. After they had pushed forward again to take up a defensive position it was found that other units of the Brigade Transport had moved off. Assuming that orders had miscarried (as afterwards was found to be the case), and knowing that if the column was to get away at all, it must be before dawn, a move was made without orders. It was found afterwards that the rest of the Brigade marched via Les Boeufs, where they had some casualties through shell fire; so the choice of route of the 15th via Saillisel and Combles was a lucky one, for the column was unmolested on this road except by a little heavy shrapnel that did no harm. Some trouble was caused at Saillisel, where, just as dawn began to break, and with the enemy on a ridge only a short distance away, the road was found to be blocked by part of an ammunition column. After some difficulty they were passed--another stroke of luck, for it was heard afterwards that this column failed to get away. Combles, too, was found to contain the Divisional Ordnance Depot, where all stores were being destroyed. A few men were able as they passed to snatch articles of kit that they had lost: the Battalion saddler still mourns over his failure to ‘scrounge’ a complete saddler’s outfit. He found it too heavy to catch the last wagon and stow it there.

“It took a weary while to reach Bazentin Le Petit that day, for after Ginchy the road was congested with an enormous mass of traffic. However, it was done, and horses and men, utterly weary hoped for a little rest there. But it seemed that the march would never end, for orders came for the retreat to continue; and at dusk all (except enough cookers and ration wagons to supply the Battalion with food that night) moved off via Albert to a new halting ground. During the afternoon a slight diversion had been caused by several enemy aeroplanes that came over and dropped a few bombs intended for the Brigade Transport; it was, however, a very timid raid of the tip-and-run variety and did no harm. Of a very different kind was the relay raid that the column passing through Albert that night experienced. From dark to light a succession of machines dropped bombs up and down the main street of Albert and the main roads approaching the town. The street was full of moving traffic, and things were made much worse by many motor transport drivers leaving their lorries standing and taking cover in houses. It seemed at one time as if the column of the 140th Brigade would be utterly unable to go forward; but the acting Transport Officer and Quartermaster, Lieutenant A. L. Mills, did excellent work in sorting out the disorganised mass of vehicles ahead, and the Brigade column finally got through with far fewer casualties than might have been expected, and of these the 15th incurred none. Meanwhile the ration column had set out with an escort of armoured cars to meet the Battalion at Bazentin Le Grand. The Battalion was, for the moment, not holding a position, and it was possible to give every man the good, hot meal of which he stood in need. The escort proved unnecessary, and as it was growing light when Albert was passed on the return journey, the ration column escaped the bombing that the others had undergone. But the bodies and the wreckage showed them how much Albert had suffered that night. They rejoined the rest of the transport in the small hours of the morning of the 25th, but within four hours the whole column was on the move again to just outside Millencourt. Here was another short halt, during which the 15th acquired two ‘buckshee’ horses--one of them an excellent animal, who served them well until he was killed six months later, the other blind and vicious: it was easy to guess how he came to be roving free--and he was soon given his freedom back again. Tired though every man and beast was, it was necessary to move again that afternoon, because the unit was said to be on the wrong side of road. They were sent to a pitch which was also useless because too soft for wagon or horse lines--involving another move, unauthorised this time. Rations went up as soon as the third move had been carried out, and after a long wait at the rendezvous were sent back to the lines, for the Battalion was at last coming out of the line. The ration column got back to the lines just in time to move with the rest of the Transport to Bouzincourt, where the relieved Battalion was met early on the morning of the 26th. From which time for a while the history of the movements of the Transport merges again with that of the Battalion as a whole.

* * * * *

A second phase of the fighting opened when the Battalion moved to Aveluy Wood on the night of the 29th of March.

There had been no time for a proper re-organisation, and the troops had not yet recovered from their exertions during the retreat. The casualties since the morning of the 21st of March numbered no less than 350 (all ranks) and as no reinforcements had joined, it was as well that the second phase opened quietly.

One and a half companies occupied an outpost position in Aveluy Wood, and the remainder of the Battalion was in a ravine 800 yards south of Martinsart. The 22nd Battalion was on the left, with a gap of 400 yards between the two units. For three days this position was held, and except for hostile shelling there was little enemy activity, the casualties for the three days numbering little more than a dozen. The 20th Battalion on the night of the 1st of April, relieved the Civil Service Rifles, who moved into billets in Senlis, and after two days’ rest and a more than welcome bath, the Battalion, now somewhat reorganised, returned to the front line and relieved the 1st Surrey Rifles on the night of the 4th of April. “A” Company held the right, “C” the centre, and a company of the 1st Surrey Rifles, who were attached, held the left. “B” and “D” Companies were in support and Battalion Headquarters was in Bouzincourt. The 9th Royal Fusiliers (12th Division) were on the right of the Civil Service Rifles and the 142nd Brigade on the left.

The few reinforcements who had joined included Major L. L. Pargiter, of the Middlesex Regiment, who came to the Battalion on the 4th of April as second in command.

Such were the dispositions when the battle for Aveluy Wood opened on the morning of the 5th of April.

As usual, the enemy opened with a heavy bombardment on the front line, support trenches, and Bouzincourt, gas shells being freely mixed with the heavier missiles. The bombardment began at 7.0 a.m. and except for three short intervals of about half an hour each, it continued until 4.30 p.m. Throughout the afternoon the bombardment of Bouzincourt was particularly intense. The enemy was excellently supported by his machine guns, which were active all day on the front line and support trenches with both direct and indirect fire.

When the bombardment began the enemy could be seen along the crest opposite the front line in twos and threes (total about 150). These small groups were dispersed by rifle fire, but at about 10.0 a.m. small groups again began to dribble forward over the crest, and these advanced in spite of Lewis gun and rifle fire, by using the cover afforded by huts and sheds, until they reached the trees and broken ground on the outskirts of Aveluy Wood. It is estimated that roughly 300 of the enemy with light machine guns pushed forward in this way. The front line held by the Civil Service Rifles was by this time enfiladed with machine-gun fire and minenwerfers, and under cover of this fire the parties in the broken ground crept forward to within 100 yards of the British front line. These parties showed up several times as if about to rush the position, but whenever they appeared, Lewis gun and rifle fire kept them back, and the intended assault was not delivered.

In the afternoon the enemy was seen to be digging in on the crest from which he had doubled forward earlier in the day, and by 6.0 p.m. this ground was effectually swept by artillery fire, with the result that no further signs of an advance were seen at that point.

By nightfall the enemy appeared to give up the attempt, at all events for that day, and the situation became considerably quieter. “D” Company now relieved the attached Company of the 1st Surrey Rifles in the front line, and this latter Company moved into support. The casualties in the Civil Service Rifles numbered fifty (all ranks), including Colonel Segrave, who was slightly gassed, and who was sent to the transport lines for a well-earned rest, Major Pargiter taking command of the Battalion.

The 6th of April was a day of alarms, but although small parties of the enemy were detected in the early morning moving forward under cover of the mist, there was no real infantry engagement. The snipers were busy on both sides and those of the Civil Service Rifles got many targets, and one of the enemy was captured after being wounded.

Intermittent bombardments were the feature of the day, but the battle died down for good after 10.0 p.m. with the Germans really well held, and with this night came to an end the fighting in the great Retreat on this front, and the Bosche thereafter did not gain any ground at all.

After holding the line for one more day, which was fairly quiet, the Battalion was relieved on the night of the 7th of April by the 17th and 21st Battalions, and marched to billets in Senlis. It was not yet known that the Division was about to move back to a training area, but the rumour soon began to get round to that effect, and the prospect of a real rest acted as a splendid tonic to the weary survivors of the darkest days in the history of the Division. They had been dark days, indeed, but those who came through could look back on them with satisfaction in the knowledge that their Battalion had played its part nobly during a period when a trip to Germany--or elsewhere--had often seemed to be the most probable end to their career in France.

This story of the movements of the 1st Civil Service Rifles during the Retreat is based on the official narrative written by Battalion Headquarters, but it should be borne in mind that the fighting during the last days of March was of so extraordinary a character that the description here given will fall very far short of the affair as it appeared to many of the members of the Battalion. Only those who took part in it will be able to realise the difficulty of describing a series of actions in which the Battalion was split up into several different bodies, each fighting battles of their own, with little or no knowledge of the whereabouts of their comrades. If this feature of the fighting is considered, it will help to explain why so many of the casualties were reported as “wounded and missing” or “missing, believed killed” without any definite information as to the place where they occurred.

The casualties among officers, warrant officers and N.C.O.’s were very heavy, but these serve to emphasise the splendid spirit of the men. Nothing could illustrate their excellent discipline, determination and fighting qualities more forcibly than that assembly at Bazentin le Petit on the night of the 24th of March. In spite of being cut off from their comrades these several small parties had carried on the fight for more than twenty-four hours--often without even a Lance-corporal in charge--and the simple statement that “10.0 p.m. saw the Battalion reforming at Bazentin le Petit” is in reality a record of the finest achievement of the men of the 1st Civil Service Rifles during the war.

A good many of the N.C.O.’s and men were decorated for their work during the Retreat, but every one of those 230 all ranks who refused to be beaten on the 23rd and 24th of March, 1918, is deserving of the highest praise. It would have been some small recognition of their great gallantry and devotion to duty if the names of these men could have been inscribed on a special Roll of Honour.

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XXI. MONTHS OF “WIND UP”

One night in Senlis was followed by a night in Hedauville, and then on the 9th of April, after a march to Acheux, the Battalion was conveyed by buses to the back area. The bus journey was pleasant enough at first, but on arriving at Beauval, where the troops were to have been billeted, it was found that all the accommodation had been allotted to other troops.

The bus column halted in the main road outside the village where a draft of 600 other ranks was waiting to join the Battalion. The draft had been waiting by the roadside since noon, and the men had had both dinner and tea in the same spot. But soon after dark the draft received orders to march to the next village, Gezaincourt, the Battalion continuing the journey by bus. The speed of the buses can best be judged by the fact that the draft arrived at Gezaincourt--about three and a half miles away--more than an hour in front of the Battalion.

The next day at Gezaincourt was spent in re-organising Companies and sorting out the huge draft, which was found to contain parties from practically every Battalion of the London Regiment except the Artists and the Scottish. The Civil Service Riflemen were now in a minority in their own Regiment.

The journey was continued on the 11th of April, when the Battalion marched to Domart en Ponthieu, a delightful village, where all ranks would have been happy to remain for the rest of the war. But it was not to be, for the troops were on the move again early next day, and after a fifteen miles’ march the training area was reached, and the Civil Service Rifles were billeted in the village of Canchy, close to the historic forest of Crecy. The village was also occupied by Divisional Headquarters, and the billets allotted to the Battalion were consequently poor, everything worth having being appropriated for the use of Divisional Headquarters.

The usual training programme was carried out and drafts continued to arrive until the Battalion grew to an unwieldy size, being over 1,300 strong. But although numerically it was stronger than it had ever been, the vast majority of the men were very raw--recruits who had been hurried out during the panic caused by the Retreat. It was soon found that the Civil Service Rifles had received more than their share of these men, and 250 of them were accordingly sent to the 142nd Brigade.

The only breaks in the routine of training were trips to Abbeville, football matches, and a half-hearted sort of Sports Meeting.

The Divisional Commander visited the Brigade at a Brigade parade at Forest l’Abbaye, on the 18th of April, when he complimented the Brigade on its work during recent operations, and hinted darkly at further “dirty work” in store in the near future.

The concluding sporting event at Canchy was a football match against the Divisional Train, the holders of the Divisional Company, who were well beaten by four goals to nil. While the match was in progress orders were received for the Transport to move early the next day, Sunday, the 28th of April, and for the Battalion to move by bus on Monday morning.

Although the programme of training had been arranged for another week, the sudden orders to move occasioned little surprise, for it was quite a common thing for a “training holiday” to be cut short, and the Transport Section accordingly moved to St. Quen without any fuss.

On the last afternoon at Canchy the entente cordiale between the Civil Service Rifles and the villagers was strengthened by a tea-party which Colonel Segrave gave to the village children. To entertain them were engaged the Divisional Cinema, the String Trio and Private Saipe. The latter’s conjuring brought down the house, and was so popular that the conjurer, on taking his evening stroll later on, was mobbed by the villagers, who insisted on his giving them a “second house” in the open air.

The bus journey to Contay was uneventful, and on leaving the buses, the Battalion, just over 700 strong, marched to billets in Warloy. A battle surplus of eight officers and 240 other ranks had been left behind at a Divisional Reinforcement Camp at Estrées les Crecy.

The German advance had been held up in the neighbourhood of Albert, and for some weeks now no move had been made on either side, though farther north the allied lines in the Ypres and Armentieres districts had been pushed back considerably. It was not, therefore, surprising when the 21st Australian Battalion was relieved on the night of the 1st of May outside the Albert-Amiens Road that orders were issued to all units to make every possible preparation to meet an enemy attack, which, to use the official language, “is likely to develop on our front in the near future.”

During this tour of the trenches the patrols of “B,” “C,” and “D” Companies, who were the three front line Companies, all reported that at 2.0 a.m. on the morning of the 4th of May, a noise resembling that of steam tractors was heard coming from the vicinity of the railway south of the Albert Road. As a result, the R.A.F. carried out a special reconnaissance at dawn and found four enemy tanks hiding near the railway. These were bombed, two being totally destroyed and the others disabled. The Brigadier General specially commended the Civil Service Rifles on the good work done by the patrols.

The discovery of the tanks, however, only served to increase the warnings of a coming attack, and an otherwise uneventful spell in the mud and water was frequently disturbed by such orders from Division as “See that all men have a hot meal immediately: Attack probable this morning.”

On the night of the 6th of May a somewhat complicated relief, owing to a reshuffle of Brigades on the Corps front, brought to an end a surprisingly peaceful stay in the front line. It did not, however, bring much comfort to the troops.

The Battalion was to move back to support trenches in the neighbourhood of Millencourt and Henencourt, but the Companies had the greatest difficulty in identifying their positions, as they turned out to be mere scratches in the ground. The night was black and the rain poured in torrents throughout. The relief was accordingly exceptionally slow and day was breaking ere the support positions were reached.

The Officer Commanding “A” Company found in Millencourt some unoccupied cellars with plenty of straw, and decided to stow his men away there and risk the consequences. “B” and “C” Companies found ruined houses in Henencourt, and “D” moved into a barn in the yard of the château at Henencourt, which had been Third Corps Headquarters during the Somme battle of 1916. Battalion Headquarters was at the Grand Caporal estaminet--a “house” that had been a favourite resort of the men of the Civil Service Rifles during the rest after High Wood in 1916. But how the village had changed since those days! In 1916 Henencourt had been a tolerably clean inhabited village, but now all was desolation, every house was in ruins, and there was not a civilian to be found anywhere.

By night the Companies occupied their battle positions and tried to dig trenches there, and by day they kept under cover in their billets. A search was made for bath tubs, and a bath-house was started in the Château yard, and apart from occasional shelling of Millencourt and Henencourt, a fairly comfortable time was spent in these villages.

The next visit to the front line was to relieve the 17th London Regiment astride the Millencourt-Albert Road, a mile or so east of the village of Millencourt. The trenches here were new, and so exposed that no cooking could be done there. All food was cooked at the Quartermaster’s stores at Warloy and brought up at night, when the troops had their only hot meal of the day. The tea was sent up in petrol cans enclosed in packs stuffed with hay--a method which had been adopted by members of the Transport Section some months previously for keeping tea hot on a long march.

Digging new trenches and wiring were the nightly tasks of all Companies during five uneventful days in this sector, and on relief by the 6th London Regiment--now in the 58th Division--the Battalion moved back to billets in Warloy, and on the following day the Division moved into Corps Reserve.

The period in Corps Reserve had generally been spent in tolerably comfortable billets in inhabited villages some distance from the firing line, but on this occasion the Division was kept close up, owing to the possibility of an enemy attack, and it fell to the lot of the 140th Brigade to occupy small woods in the neighbourhood of Warloy and Bazieux. The accommodation was distinctly poor, the men having to sleep under bivouac sheets--or trench shelters as they were called officially.

Colonel Segrave accordingly indulged in a little billeting on his own account and fixed his battalion up in comfortable billets in Warloy, observing at the same time that as they were nearer to the front line they were tactically in a better position to meet an emergency. A wordy warfare with the Divisional Staff ensued, and for a few days the Civil Service Rifles hung on to their billets, although the Colonel had been withdrawn to command the 141st Brigade. But soon a move had to be made to the bivouacs in the Bois La Haut, north of Bazieux, where the days were spent by the troops in digging cable trenches near Henencourt Wood, and the nights were often spent in alarms and standing to.

Indeed, a more restless period in Corps Reserve had never been known. All officers were taken to reconnoitre positions of assembly for counter-attack, and to each battalion in the Brigade was allotted a definite objective. It was announced that the attack would be launched on the 20th, and the officers were taken through a kind of rehearsal of their counter-attack.

Nightly bombing raids by enemy aeroplanes added to the discomfort, and on the night of the 18th of May an intense bombardment was heard. Later, an alarm was sounded in an adjacent wood, and the Battalion stood to arms at 2.0 a.m. and remained so for about an hour. Thereafter the troops were made to stand to arms each morning at an hour before dawn as in the trenches, and the cooks had to “keep up steam” in readiness to serve a hot meal at once in the event of an enemy attack on the Corps front. Happily nothing so unpleasant as an attack developed, but the camp was shelled on the morning of the 22nd, with the result that the Transport Section lost an old and tried friend in Corporal Banks, who had been with them continuously since mobilisation. It was cruel luck that he should be killed while in Corps Reserve, after surviving such ordeals as the Somme, Ypres Salient, Bourlon Wood and the Retreat. Two horses were also killed and two others wounded.

The Division moved out of Corps Reserve on the 24th of May, and after a whole day spent in cable burying in the pouring rain, the Civil Service Rifles relieved the 7th East Surrey Regiment in quarries near the Franvillers-Albert road. Here the troops bivouacked amongst guns and howitzers of all calibres; in some cases the men slept, or rather spent the night, under the muzzles of the guns. The only good thing the Battalion got out of this relief was a draft of 10 N.C.O.’s, who had been wounded on the Somme in 1916, and on their return to France had been drafted to the East Surrey Regiment. By a strange coincidence they rejoined the Civil Service Rifles almost on the very ground where they had been trained for the Somme battle, for the Bois Robert, where many of the rehearsals for High Wood took place, was within a hundred yards or so of the bivouacs.

A short stay amid the guns was followed by a move to comfortable but shell-riddled billets in Baizieux--a village somewhat changed since the previous Christmas, when it was occupied by Divisional Headquarters.

The 4th Battalion Royal Welsh Fusiliers was relieved in the Lavieville defences on the 26th of May, and here the Battalion spent four days in support trenches, during the whole of which time all Companies were at work with the Royal Engineers on cable burying. At the end of May 1918, the Civil Service Rifles occupied a field surrounded by new and shallow trenches just north of the Franvillers-Berhencourt road, and about half a mile west of Franvillers itself. These trenches were the rear defences of the Lahoussoye system, but the men occupied tents and bivouacs outside the trenches.

There followed five uneventful days in the front line opposite the village of Dernancourt, and on relief by the 17th Battalion on the night of the 6th of June, support trenches astride the Albert-Amiens road were occupied for three days. The Battalion then relieved the 1st Surrey Rifles in the front line on the immediate left of the sector held previously. This particular area was held by the Brigade for nearly three weeks, the Battalion changing round every four or five days. Nothing worthy of note happened until, on the 19th of June, the Division was relieved by the 58th Division, the 6th London Regiment taking over from the Civil Service Rifles, who had a long march back to the village of Berhencourt, which was reached at about 5 a.m. After a few hours’ rest the march was continued to Molliens au Bois, where a tented camp in a sea of mud was taken over from the Queen Victoria Rifles. Here the Regimental Brass Band, which had been entertaining the Commander-in-Chief at General Headquarters for the past six weeks, rejoined, together with the battle surplus and a draft of reinforcements from the Divisional Reinforcement Camp.

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XXII. INTENSIVE TRAINING

Fortunately only one day was spent at Molliens au Bois, and on the 21st of June a bus ride took the Civil Service Rifles through Amiens and then round the country for a few hours, and back to Ferrieres, a little village about four miles from Amiens. The Battalion then marched to Guignemicourt, a village without any water supply, a real old-fashioned out-of-the-way country place, which seemed miles away from the war. The big château occupied by Battalion Headquarters was the property of a French “nouveau riche,” who, according to the natives, had made his fortune out of beer. He had fled hurriedly during the German advance, leaving all his furniture behind him, but no trace could be found of the commodity which was alleged to have earned him his francs.

A quaint feature of the village life was the town crier with his drum, who took up his stand in front of the sentry outside Battalion Headquarters and made such announcements as the fixed price of coal, flour, etc., for the ensuing month. His services were utilised by the Civil Service Rifles at the end of their stay to announce to the villagers that any claims against the Battalion must be lodged at the orderly room before the Battalion left the village.

To the members of the Civil Service Rifles who were at Guignemicourt, however, the name does not revive memories of an old-world village or of a quaint town crier. The memory that is inseparable from this village is one of eternal parades. There were not only parades for work, but also parades for play, the Battalion, after spending the morning hard at work on the drill ground, being marched to the football field every afternoon to take part in compulsory football. And for officers the day’s work was carried on after lights out; for many were the hours spent in conferences at Battalion Headquarters long after the men were “between the sheets” in their billets.

The compulsory football took the form of six-a-side games, the sides being chosen in alphabetical order throughout each platoon or specialist section. Every able-bodied officer, warrant officer, N.C.O., or man, had to play, and the games were on the knock-out principle. Only four games could be played at a time, and those who were not playing had to look on, but, as the weather was beautifully fine, the troops soon tumbled to the idea of bringing their writing-pads, with the result that when the Corps Commander and many of the gilded staff drove up to the ground on the afternoon of the 25th of June they found a few men playing football and the majority of the Battalion squatting on the grass writing letters. The final was won by a team from “B” Company.

After the football competition, Major L. L. Pargiter, who was in command of the Battalion during the absence on leave of Colonel Segrave, introduced the game of puttocks--a game which “caught on” at once with the Battalion. Major Pargiter was an enthusiast for sport as well as for work, and he combined the two on the miniature range, where shooting took place every evening, the prizes taking the form of 10 centimes for every bull’s-eye scored. This was apparently too easy a method of making money, for on some evenings nobody put in an appearance except the Officer Commanding Range and the marker.

The eternal parades naturally provoked a certain amount of grousing, but none the less the Battalion had reached a very high standard of efficiency, when Colonel Segrave returned on the 2nd of July, after a month’s absence.

On the next day a Divisional water carnival was held at Picquigny, where R.Q.M.S. Hart improved on his previous year’s success by taking the first two places in the odd craft race. He had trained on the horse pond in the village and his craft finished so far in front of the rest of the competitors that many of the spectators were unaware that he was in the race at all.

The Battalion won the Divisional water polo championship with the following team: Colour-Sergeant W. S. Watts, Corporal O. S. Wraight, and Corporal T. Byron of “B” Company, Lance-Corporal H. G. Terry of “A” Company, and Privates T. N. Smale, “B” Company, S. Paisley and R. Bull, Transport Section. Other members of the Battalion who distinguished themselves were Privates E. Manfield, who was third in the back stroke race, and Privates F. J. Garnham, “B” Company, and P. A. Pooley, “D” Company, who with Corporal Wraight and Private Bull gained for the Civil Service Rifles third place in the Divisional Relay Race. Altogether it was a good day for the Civil Service Rifles.

On the following day Major General Gorringe presented ribbons to those in the Battalion who had been awarded decorations for their work during the Retreat.

A Memorial Service to Civil Servants who had fallen in the war was held in the Château grounds on the 11th of July, at the same hour as the service in Westminster Abbey for the same purpose was being held.

The only other incidents worthy of note during the last week at Guignemicourt were the Battalion Sports Meeting, at which “D” Company won far more points than any other Company, and the visit of a photographer from the French Flying Corps. Every Company and Specialist Section and almost every platoon was photographed, as also were the Battalion football team and many of the horses.

The Battalion returned to Warloy on the 12th of July and relieved the First Surrey Rifles in support positions on the Senlis-Henencourt Road on the 15th.

On the 18th of July the welcome news was received of a successful French counter-attack on a large scale in the Soissons region. The news was cheering to all ranks, but no one even suspected that this was the beginning of the end, and that in four months’ time the Armistice would be signed.

On the 20th of July the 17th Battalion was relieved by the Civil Service Rifles in front line trenches due east of Millencourt, and a company of American Infantry of the 131st Regiment, 33rd U.S.A. Division, became attached for instruction in trench warfare. The American troops were of fine physique and were very keen, but what seemed to appeal to them most was the excellent cooking of the Civil Service Rifles cooks. Many of them declared that although they were living in trenches they had not been fed so well since they left home.

Each of the four Companies of the 131st Regiment (1st Battalion) spent twenty-four hours under instruction with the Civil Service Rifles, and on the 24th of July, the whole of the American Battalion became attached to the 140th Brigade and relieved the Civil Service Rifles who moved back to Contay. Colonel Segrave and his Adjutant, four Company Commanders and some senior N.C.O.’s remained with the U.S.A. troops until the following day, when all returned to Contay except the Commanding Officer and Adjutant, who were attached to the American Battalion for a further period of two days. In the meantime the four Company Quartermaster Sergeants were attached to the American Quartermaster to assist him in rationing his Battalion while it was in the front line.

After five days at Contay the Civil Service Rifles relieved the 17th Battalion in support to the front line recently held, where they were relieved on the 30th of July by the 19th Battalion, and moved back to the positions on the Senlis-Henencourt Road, now occupied by the forward Battalion of the Brigade in Divisional Reserve.

The month of August, 1918, was certainly an eventful one, for it brought with it a general advance on the whole of the Corps front.

There was little in the early days of the month to suggest the startling changes that were to come over the military situation in the immediate vicinity of the 47th Divisional front, though as time went on, the news of advances in various parts of the allied line revived an enthusiasm that had perhaps been on the wane since the beginning of the year.

There was as yet no talk of a coming attack by the 140th Brigade, and on the night of the 5th of August, after spending two days in Warloy, the Civil Service Rifles relieved the 24th Battalion on the right of the Divisional front, just outside Albert on the Amiens Road. But although there had been no special preparation for an attack, it was thought quite likely that one might soon be made, as the enemy had withdrawn his line from the position round Albert, and even from the town itself it was believed.

“B” Company occupied parts of the two old German front lines, and had sentry groups also along the west side of the railway embankment overlooking the River Ancre. It appeared to be quite true that the Germans had withdrawn, for no trace of one was seen on the Battalion front.

On the 6th of August news was received that Colonel Segrave, who was at the time Acting Brigade Commander, had been promoted to the rank of Brigadier General, and he left forthwith to command the 152nd Brigade in the 51st Division, and the Civil Service Rifles had to part for good with one who had been to them something far more than a Commanding Officer.

Although Colonel Segrave’s promotion had been more or less expected for some time, he received very short notice to depart, and was not even given an opportunity to say good-bye. It is difficult to say whether he or the Battalion felt the parting more keenly, for he was loved by those whom he commanded as much as he loved them--which is saying a great deal.

No story of the 1st Civil Service Rifles can be complete without an appreciation of one who is regarded by all who served under him as the finest Commanding Officer the Regiment ever had. His gallantry in the field has already been referred to, and it was fortunate for the Battalion that all its big defensive battles were fought during the year in which Colonel Segrave commanded, for it was in such battles, rather than in attacks which had been rehearsed in every detail, that able leadership meant so much. Both at Bourlon Wood and in the Retreat the Civil Service Rifles owed a great deal to the guiding hand of their Commanding Officer.

But it was not only owing to his ability as a leader, nor to his exceptional bravery under fire, that his presence gave such confidence to the troops. They always knew that in Colonel Segrave they had a Commanding Officer who devoted himself wholeheartedly to the welfare of the Civil Service Rifles. He was a red-hot enthusiast for the Regiment, and would tolerate nothing that was, in his opinion, likely to bring it into disrepute. A tireless worker himself, he would have no idlers among his officers, N.C.O.’s or men.

These are but a few of the qualities in Colonel Segrave which cause men to speak with genuine pride of the fact that they served under him. Outstanding among his characteristics was his pure unselfishness. All that he did was done for his Regiment. He sought no personal glorification. He indeed “did good by stealth and blushed to find it fame.” But the splendid work he did for the Civil Service Rifles during the hardest year of the war can never be forgotten by those who had the good fortune to serve under Colonel Segrave.

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XXIII. THE GREAT ADVANCE

A sensational change came over the military situation on the Divisional front during August, 1918. When the month opened, the front line Brigades were still holding the trenches outside Albert, and were kept in a state of readiness to meet a German attack. It soon became evident, however, that there would be no German attack from that quarter, for it became known on the 3rd of August that the Germans had withdrawn from Albert and the positions around that town, and by the end of the month the troops of the 47th Division, instead of being on the defensive, were in pursuit of a broken enemy several miles east of Albert, and open warfare prevailed once more.

When Colonel Segrave left it was not known who was to be his successor, but in the meantime Major G. G. Bates, M.C., acted as Commanding Officer.

The first indication of the coming advance was a big attack launched by the Allies at 4.0 a.m. on the 8th of August. The Civil Service Rifles were at that time holding front line trenches just outside Albert, on the north side of the Albert-Amiens road. No attack was launched in that area, but there was increased artillery activity throughout the day. On the following day an attack was delivered by the 58th Division immediately south of the 47th Division and an Australian Division further south. Their objectives were the villages of Ville sur Ancre, Dernancourt, Morlancourt, and the German positions in the vicinity. In spite of a ground mist, which made it difficult to follow the operations, the attack was a big success. The Civil Service Rifles were not affected, though the Battalion scouts were sent as spectators to a point of vantage to watch for any developments likely to affect the front held by the 47th Division. It was a curious sight to see a small crowd on a slope on the left flank of the attack, watching the fight at fairly close quarters, like a crowd at a football match.

About this time enemy aeroplanes were active at night, bombing transport lines and billets at Warloy, and the Civil Service Rifles lost their Acting Quartermaster, Second Lieutenant A. L. Mills, and their Assistant Adjutant, Second Lieutenant P. J. Spencer, both of whom were bombed in their billet, which was completely destroyed, the officers being dangerously wounded.

On the 13th of August, after a short stay in support in Baizieux, the Division moved south of the Albert Road and relieved the 58th Division in the neighbourhood of Bray. The Civil Service Rifles relieved the Queen Victoria Rifles in the forward position of the support Brigade. The trenches occupied were the old British and German front lines west of Morlancourt. The Transport Section and Quartermaster’s stores moved to the village of Bonnay, which was visited nightly by enemy bombing planes.

On the night of the 16th of August the Battalion moved up to the front line and relieved the 22nd London Regiment on the right of the Divisional front in the Bois des Tailles, just north of the village of Bray.

The Bois des Tailles had doubtless been a very pretty wood in peace time, but it was now strewn with the debris remaining after the German occupation. It had afforded good natural cover for German guns, and in the valley which ran through the middle of the wood were some rather palatial dug-outs. The German guns were still in position, though the emplacements had been destroyed and the ammunition was scattered about the ground. Throughout its occupation by the Civil Service Rifles, the Bois des Tailles was subjected to a steady bombardment, gas shells being used freely every night. The aforesaid valley became saturated with gas and the dug-outs were rendered uninhabitable. Casualties were pretty heavy, and the five days spent in what became known among the troops as “toute de suite wood” were distinctly unpleasant.

At midnight on the 20th of August the 20th London Regiment took over the positions in the Bois des Tailles, and the Civil Service Rifles moved back to support positions in a valley near Marett Wood, close to Mericourt L’Abbé. Here the new Commanding Officer, Lieut.-Colonel R. C. Feilding, D.S.O., Coldstream Guards, took over the command of the Battalion.

Colonel Feilding had not had time to get to know his troops before he was leading them in battle, for after one day’s rest in support positions, the 140th Brigade moved up on the 22nd of August and was the Reserve Brigade in a big attack launched that morning by the 47th Division, in conjunction with the 12th Division on the left, and an Australian Division on the right.

The programme for the 47th Division was that the 141st Brigade holding the front line was to move forward at zero, and capture and consolidate the first objective, known for this battle as the Brown Line, running parallel with the Bray-Albert road and about 500 yards east of it. The 142nd Brigade was to pass through the 141st Brigade ten minutes after zero, and capture and consolidate the second objective (known as the Green Line.) Corps cavalry and twelve whippet tanks were then to pass through the 141st and 142nd Brigades, and capture the Blue Line (a line of defences from Fricourt to the woods known as Great and Little Bear), the 140th Brigade remaining in Divisional Reserve, ready to move forward and consolidate the Blue Line when captured.

Soon after 6.0 a.m. on the 22nd of August, the Civil Service Rifles marched forward from the positions near Marett Wood, and by 7.50 a.m. the Battalion was in position at the rendezvous--the sunken road running north and south along the western edge of the Bois des Tailles. Here a squadron of cavalry, about 80 strong, was waiting its turn to go forward, and just before 8.0 a.m. this squadron advanced to the attack, accompanied by tanks, but both tanks and cavalry came dribbling back about an hour later, having met with serious opposition.

The Companies of the Civil Service Rifles were now disposed in the fields on either side of the road, awaiting orders. There followed a long interval without any news, and throughout the whole morning nothing definite was heard as to how the attack had developed. Late in the afternoon, however, orders were received as to the part to be played by the Civil Service Rifles in an attack to be delivered by the 140th Brigade the following morning upon the Blue Line. Colonel Feilding had only just explained matters to Company Commanders, when the order was cancelled owing to the withdrawal of the 142nd Brigade from the Green Line, under pressure from the enemy, and the reoccupation by the latter of the Happy Valley (a valley just to the east of the Bray-Albert road, and about a mile north-north-west of Bray).

A gap existed between the right of the 141st Brigade and the left of the Australians, and the Civil Service Rifles were ordered at 7.0 p.m. to fill the gap. Colonel Feilding sent two of his Companies to the front line to dig themselves in along a bank where the gap existed, and two Companies to be in support along the Etineham-Méaulte road, just in front of the old front line in the Bois des Tailles. He established his Headquarters temporarily in the old front line north-east of the Bois des Tailles.

Darkness was falling as the Companies went to take up these positions, and when Colonel Feilding arrived with his Headquarters Company in the old front line in the Bois des Tailles he found the Headquarters of the 141st Brigade close by. He went into these Headquarters to see what further information he could gather, and learnt that the enemy was breaking through, and was believed to be coming on in large numbers. The trench, he was told, should be put in a state of defence, and every rifle would be needed. Headquarters Company was thereupon ordered to line the trench and each man had to make himself a good fire position. Officers’ servants and signallers, who had not used their rifles since the Retreat, had visions of a repetition of the Bourlon Wood incident, and every man got to work with his entrenching tool, and made every preparation for the coming fight. Colonel Feilding pushed off into the darkness ahead to find out how much truth there was in the story of the counter-attack. He found all quiet in the front line, which was nearly two miles ahead, and he decided to take his Headquarters Company and two support Companies to the foot of a bank close to the front line. These positions were occupied throughout the next day, when there was considerable shelling from the enemy.

Early on the morning of the 24th of August, an attack was delivered on the Green Line and the Happy Valley. The 140th Brigade was on the left and the 175th Brigade (58th Division) on the right. The Civil Service Rifles were to move through the Happy Valley behind a Battalion of the 175th Brigade, and deal with the enemy in the many dug-outs in the valley. After clearing the valley they were to take up positions just north of Bray and on the east side of the Bray-Méaulte road, in support to the 17th and 21st Battalions, who were to be by that time in the Green Line.

The attack began at 1.0 a.m., and by 2.0 a.m. large parties of German prisoners began to arrive at Battalion Headquarters. The operation had been entirely successful, the Civil Service Rifles having captured 300 prisoners in Happy Valley, as well as a considerable number of machine guns and some trench mortars.

After spending the whole day under heavy shell fire in the positions near the Bray Road, the Battalion moved through the Happy Valley again at night and assembled for a further attack, which was to commence at 2.30 a.m. on the 25th.

For this attack the 140th Brigade was in front, with the 175th Brigade on its right. The Civil Service Rifles were on the right of the 140th Brigade, and the centre of the Battalion’s assembly position was an old German prisoners-of-war cage on the Bray-Fricourt Road. It was dark when the men reached the assembly position, and the country was quite strange to all the attacking forces, none of whom had even so much as seen it by daylight. The objective was just over 2,500 yards beyond the assembly position, and was a line of old German trenches on the western edge of Billon Copse, about two miles south of Mametz. In spite of the strange surroundings, total darkness, and the fact that no reconnaissance had been made, the attack went well, and the objective was reached with very few casualties--not more than thirty-five all ranks. The opposition was slight, but a thick fog which settled down before daylight made it very difficult to find even so prominent a landmark as Bronfay Farm, which was about the southern boundary of the Civil Service Rifles’ objective. The result was that when Colonel Feilding reached the front line soon after 4.30 a.m., he found that the troops were a few hundred yards short of the real objective. However, he was able to guide them to the so-called old German trench, which “A” and “C” Companies manned as front line Companies, “B” and “D” remaining in the railway loop behind in support.

So ended the first stage of the part played by the Civil Service Rifles in the final advance of the Allies. It had been a long drawn out battle, and the troops had had little or no rest since leaving the trenches near Marrett Wood on the morning of the 22nd of August. The fighting, however, had not been severe, and the total casualties during the few days were only sixty all ranks, of whom only nine were killed.

The men were, therefore, in very good spirits when they marched back, on the 26th of August, to the trenches near Marrett Wood, taking with them one captured minenwerfer, four heavy and ten light enemy machine guns.

There followed the usual visits from the Brigade Commander and Divisional Commander, both of whom congratulated the Battalion on its work during the past few days. They added, however, the news that the advance would be resumed very soon. Major General Gorringe explained that there would be no more coming back to rest while the Division was taking part in this advance. In future the transport lines would move up to the Battalion after a battle, as the general scheme would be that Brigades would be continually passing through each other, and so the front line area of to-day would become the support or reserve position to-morrow.

On the 29th of August the Civil Service Rifles marched to huts in an old French brickfield about a mile north of Maricourt, and close to Montauban. Battalion Headquarters was at Carnoy Craters on the Carnoy-Montauban Road. These craters were a relic of the Somme battle of 1916, when the attack often opened with the blowing of a few mines. The Germans had only recently left this district, and a sharp look-out had to be kept for “booby traps.”

The 47th Division continued the advance on the 30th of August, the 142nd Brigade being in front, the 141st in support, and the 140th Brigade in reserve. The Civil Service Rifles moved off from the Brickfields soon after 7.0 a.m., and after a short cross country scramble, halted in Maurepas Ravine about midday. Cookers and limbers followed the Battalion, and soon after halting, the troops received a pleasant surprise in the shape of hot dinner. A draft of two officers and 100 other ranks, who had been following the Battalion for some days, managed to catch it up in Maurepas Ravine during the afternoon of the 30th of August. It was quite a novelty for a draft to join during battle.

The Battalion bivouacked in Maurepas Ravine, and spent the whole of the next day there, but on the morning of the 1st September there began what proved to be the last battle in which the Civil Service Rifles were to take an active part. It was a battle worthy of the occasion, and during the six days while it lasted, the men lived up to the very best traditions of the Regiment. There were very few indeed among them who had embarked with the Battalion in 1915, or even of those who had fought on the Somme in 1916, but the spirit was still there, and the achievements of the 1st Civil Service Rifles in this great battle are worthy of a detailed description. The following account of the operation is founded upon the official report written by Colonel Feilding when the action was over. The narrative can best be followed by reference to the map on page 211.

On the 1st September the 140th Brigade, in conjunction with the 141st Brigade on the right, and the 18th Division (55th Brigade) on the left, was to advance and capture Rancourt and the line of trench following the south-west edge of St. Pierre Vaast Wood. The 1st Surrey Rifles were on the right, the Civil Service on the left, and the Poplar and Stepneys were to follow up and “mop up” Rancourt and the trenches around that village.

The assembly position for the Civil Service was a line about three quarters of a mile south-south-west of Rancourt, between the road leading from Rancourt to Le Forest and the road from Rancourt to Marrieres Wood. Battalion Headquarters was at the cross roads about half a mile east-north-east of Le Forest, with advanced Headquarters in a shell hole near the assembly position.

A certain amount of shelling was encountered on the way up to the assembly position, and the Battalion lost, among others, Sergeant Moore, signals sergeant, one of the few remaining “17th of March men,” who had been present with the Civil Service Rifles throughout their stay in France.

The assembly position was reached at 5.0 a.m., and zero was at 5.30 a.m.

Some anxiety was felt when, at three minutes before zero, the 1st Surrey Rifles had not arrived, but thanks to Second Lieutenant Gray, the Civil Service Intelligence Officer, touch was established before zero.

After a five minutes’ “crash” by the artillery, “C” and “D” Companies moved forward behind a creeping barrage to take the final objective, followed by “A” and “B” Companies, who were to be in support in trenches running north and south, quarter of a mile east of Rancourt.

The attack was completely successful, prisoners beginning to come down within ten minutes of zero.

Lieutenant E. R. Lascelles, commanding “C” Company, was killed early in the advance, but otherwise the losses were slight, and by 7.30 a.m. all objectives had been reached, and were being consolidated. Touch was obtained with the East Surreys (55th Brigade) on the left, but there was a gap on the right, the 1st Surrey Rifles having been held up.

During the process of consolidation “B” and “D” Companies were shelled heavily from a German Field Gun Battery which remained in action in the open, firing over open sights from about 1,000 yards’ range.

An attempt by the enemy to rush through the gap on the right was prevented by Lewis gun and rifle fire from developing, and this brought to a close a good day’s work in which the Civil Service Rifles had taken 150-200 prisoners and ten machine guns.

The battle, however, was by no means over, and at 11.30 p.m. the Battalion was relieved by the London Irish and marched to an assembly position on the Rancourt-Peronne road, just S.W. of Bouchavesnes and 300 yards north of the old quarry there, in readiness for a further attack the next morning. Arrived at this assembly position, the Company cooks again earned the gratitude of their comrades by producing an excellent hot meal.

The operation of the 1st of September had been simple and straightforward, and had been carried out without a hitch, but a much more complicated attack took place on the 2nd.

The plan was that the 74th Division should attack from trenches immediately south of Moislains Wood and, after capturing and mopping up Moislains, should take the village of Nurlu. The 140th Brigade was to follow them closely, the Civil Service on the left, the Poplar and Stepneys on the right, and the East Surreys in support. After crossing the Canal du Nord east of Moislains, the 140th Brigade was to wheel left, forming a defensive flank on the high ground to the north of Monastir trench, where they were to join up with the 142nd Brigade, who were to capture this trench. The order from left to right on the defensive flank was First Surreys, Civil Service, Poplar and Stepneys. The 140th Brigade was to follow the 229th, who would also prolong the defensive flank, facing north as far as Nurlu.

The Battalion was in position at 3.0 a.m. and zero was at 5.30 a.m., but, in order to get well up behind the 229th Brigade “A” and “B” Companies led off at 5.0 a.m. with “C” and “D” in support and Headquarters bringing up the rear.

The 140th Brigade was to pass Moislains on the south, and the formation of the defensive flank therefore presupposed the capture by the 74th Division of that village.

From the outset the Brigade came under heavy shell and machine gun fire, and as it moved down the slopes to the south west of Moislains, under still heavier machine-gun fire directed from the village and from both flanks.

The casualties caused by this fire were enormous, amounting to more than half the strength of the Battalion, but the men went forward without any hesitation, and, as Colonel Feilding said afterwards, as though they were beating up partridges. The behaviour of the Civil Service under this sweeping fire was commented on by the Commanding Officers of other units present, who said they had never seen anything like it. The determination of all ranks was ultimately rewarded when they succeeded in establishing themselves in Moislains trench, with details of the First Surreys on the left, the Poplar and Stepneys on the right, and an officer and about a dozen other ranks of the North Devon Yeomanry.

The garrison of Moislains trench now had to fight hard to hold the position, for the enemy were occupying the same trench to the left and Quarry trench in the left rear, while they could clearly be seen moving in Moislains a quarter of a mile in front, and assembling in the village and around the huts immediately south of it.

Simultaneous counter-attacks were, in fact, developed on the left rear and on the right front, while the enemy at the same time attempted to bomb up the trench on the left.

Both parapet and parados were manned, and the attacks across the open were beaten off, but the bombing attacks continued all day, and, owing to scarcity of bombs, were with difficulty held up.

It was at once obvious that there were no British troops in front of the 140th Brigade, though elements of the 74th Division could be seen in the distance on the right, on a level with Moislains trench. In the face of the very heavy flank and frontal machine-gun fire, of the heavy casualties incurred and of the fact that one flank at least was “in the air,” it did not seem practicable to Colonel Feilding or to Colonel Dawes, commanding the First Surreys, for their Battalions to assume the rôle allotted to the 74th Division, and to attempt, without a barrage, to capture the village, which, as a result of the failure, or absence, of that Division, was still strongly held by the enemy.

A small local attack by about two Companies was actually delivered by the 74th Division on the right, but, though it made some little progress, and at one point crossed the Canal, it hardly did more than establish the right flank of the 140th Brigade. With this exception, there was no indication of any attack having been delivered by the 74th Division in the vicinity of Moislains. A German Field Gun Battery was, in fact, in action for some four hours in the open, immediately south of the village, and less than 1000 yards east of the Canal, firing over open sights on to the part of Moislains trench occupied by the 140th Brigade.

Colonel Feilding was able to confirm the foregoing account by a very careful examination of the battle-field made afterwards. He saw no British dead either in Moislains or between Moislains trench and the village. The only dead in the vicinity of Moislains trench were those of the 140th Brigade and of Germans killed in the counter-attack previously referred to. Twenty-five men of the Civil Service were found and buried in an hour in this area alone, and others of the Brigade were still lying there.

To quote from Colonel Feilding’s report:

“The only dead of the 74th Division whom I personally saw in the section of ground with which my Battalion was concerned were lying about 300 yards from our starting point--the Rancourt-Peronne road. Since these dead were not there when we originally advanced, I can only come to the conclusion, which is shared by all who were with me on the battlefield during the action and after, that here, at least, the 140th Brigade, instead of being in support, found itself with its flanks unsecured, and with the barrage so far ahead as to be useless, carrying out the main attack on a strong enemy position, and that the 74th Division, so far from being in front of us, was behind us.”

The position in Moislains trench was held until 10.30 p.m. on the 2nd of September, when the Brigade Commander withdrew the troops, and the survivors of the Civil Service Rifles marched back about three miles and rested in trenches just east of Rancourt.

The Battalion rested here for two days, but even then the fighting was not over, and, reorganised owing to heavy losses on a two Company basis each with two platoons, the Civil Service Rifles took part in another fight on the 5th of September. At 5.30 a.m. on that day, the 141st Brigade passed through the 142nd, and was followed by the 140th at 8.0 a.m., the Poplar and Stepneys in front with the Civil Service and one Company of the First Surreys attached in support.

The Civil Service assembled in Pallas trench, south-west of Moislains Wood, and at noon the two Companies had moved forward and occupied Sorrowitz trench (a continuation of Moislains trench, north-west of Moislains) with Battalion Headquarters and the attached Company of the First Surreys in the sunken road 300 yards behind. Half an hour later, “A-B” Company under Lieutenant R. Upton, crossed the Canal and occupied a position facing north-east on the Canal bank in a continuation of Monastir trench about a quarter of a mile north-east of Moislains. At the same time “C-D” Company, under Captain L. D. Eccles, crossed the canal and occupied a trench further south, parallel with the canal and facing east, formed a defensive flank. The remaining Company was kept in reserve in and around Sorrowitz trench.

At 7.0 p.m., considerable opposition having been met with from the enemy, an organised attack was made on the Peronne-Nurlu road by the Poplar and Stepneys in conjunction with the 141st Brigade and the 12th Division on the left. The right was protected by Captain Eccles’ Company and the operation was entirely successful.

At 6.0 a.m. on the 6th of September the advance was resumed. The 19th and 20th Battalions (141st Brigade) moved across the Peronne-Nurlu road, and at 8.0 a.m. the London-Irish and the Civil Service, who had formed up behind in conjunction with the 12th Division on the left and the 74th Division on the right, advanced on a position running north and south, just south of the village of Lieramont.

The Civil Service reached the objective about noon and the men came under heavy machine gun fire from the left, where the London-Irish had not yet arrived. In addition, rapid fire from enemy field artillery raked the men as they appeared over the crest in front of the final objective. Colonel Feilding accordingly took his men back to the reverse slope, where they immediately turned and dug in.

This position turned out to be the “farthest east” of the Civil Service in the advance on this part of the Allied front, for during the night of the 6th-7th September the Battalion was relieved by the Queen Victoria Rifles (58th Division) and moved back to bivouacs in a valley about a mile east of Moislains, close to the position occupied by Captain Eccles’ Company on the afternoon of the 5th of September.

The fighting, so far as the Civil Service Rifles were concerned, had come to an end for a time, and the short rest in this valley near Moislains enabled a thorough search to be made of the scene of the heavy casualties on the 2nd of September. The bodies of all the killed of the Civil Service in that battle were buried before the troops left. There was also an opportunity to count the cost, and it was found that the casualties suffered during the first six days of September numbered 12 officers and 317 other ranks, out of a total trench strength of less than 500 all ranks.

It has already been mentioned that Colonel Feilding had not had time to get to know his men before he was leading them in battle, but what he saw of them in the battles of August and September filled him with genuine admiration for and pride in the men whom he commanded and he at once became fired with the enthusiasm of his two predecessors. The troops, on their part, were not slow to see that the Regiment had been fortunate in gaining a worthy successor to Colonel Segrave for in these final battles Colonel Feilding’s energy knew no bounds. He was constantly faced with unexpected developments but he was never at a loss as to how to deal with them. From start to finish he was “here, there and everywhere” moving about among the Companies seeing things for himself. What struck the troops most forcibly perhaps was his coolness, for although on the 2nd of September particularly, he was faced with difficulties sufficient to put the best soldier “off his game” he was perfectly calm and unruffled throughout.

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XXIV. BACK TO THE COAL-FIELDS

It is a far cry from the battle-field to the coal-field, but after the events narrated in the last chapter, the 47th Division returned to the area which it occupied during its first few days in France.

On the 7th of September the Civil Service Rifles went by bus from the vicinity of Moislains to billets at Heilly, and after two nights in that once delightful village, entrained in the afternoon of the 9th for Chocques. The train journey took just over 12 hours, and it was consequently in the small hours of the 10th of September when the Battalion reached its billets in Chocques. Two days later, the 140th Brigade marched to the Auchel area, where it remained until the 27th of September.

Auchel is not by any means a pleasant village, but after the Somme battlefield any place was welcome, and the three weeks spent here were very enjoyable, concert parties and football matches being the great attraction. The chief excitement at this time, however, was the prospect of a trip to Italy. Definite orders had been received for the 47th Division to be transferred to the Italian front, and more than once during the stay at Auchel the Civil Service Rifles actually received entraining orders. The last entrainment order was for the 26th, but, like the others, it was cancelled, and on the 27th of September the Brigade marched to the St. Pol area, the Civil Service Rifles being allotted some very poor accommodation in Foufflin-Ricametz.

On the 2nd of October the Division was transferred to the 5th Army. The Civil Service Rifles moved by train from St. Pol to Merville and marched thence to Lestrem, which was reached at 4.30 a.m. on the 3rd of October. There the men rested in tents for a few hours and in the afternoon the march was continued to Fauquissart, where the night was spent in dug-outs.

On the following day the 47th Division began an advance on to the general line Beaucamps-Radinghem, with the ultimate object of taking Lille. The Civil Service Rifles occupied reserve trenches at Le Maisnil, the advance being carried out by the 141st and 142nd Brigades.

It was no doubt in order to avoid unnecessary casualties, and also to avoid doing any further damage to the town, that the taking of Lille was a slow process. There was no determined attack made on it directly, but one by one the various strategical and tactical positions were captured, and the Germans were forced to clear out eventually on the 17th of October. The capture was a somewhat tame affair, and the first intimation that the British troops had was when a few civilians timidly came out and announced that the Germans had gone. For some days afterwards pickets were posted at all the entrances to Lille and only a privileged few were able to enter the town.

The early part of October was uneventful for the Civil Service Rifles. It was certainly a change to get back once more to trench warfare, but it was only for a day or two, and after the short stay at Le Maisnil, a few days were spent in reserve near Fromelles and on the 14th of October the Battalion marched to Estaires, thence on the 15th to St. Venant, thence to Norrent Fontes, where the Battalion trained for ten days.

Arrangements had now been made for a triumphal march of British troops through Lille and the Civil Service Rifles entrained at Berguette on the 26th of October, and after a journey across the devastated area which had been No Man’s Land for more than three years, detrained at Perenchies and marched to Lomme, a suburb of Lille, which was reached at about 7.0 p.m.

The march from the railway station to the factory in Lomme, where the Battalion was billeted, was a memorable one. On approaching the suburb the regimental band struck up the Marseillaise and kept it up throughout the march. The inhabitants--old men, women and children--threw up their windows or lined up on the roadside to sing the words they had not forgotten during the four years of German rule. The kiddies ran by the side of the troops and insisted on shaking hands. The welcome indeed was so spontaneous that it was more impressive than the ceremonial affair two days later.

It was appropriate that the 47th Division should have been selected for the triumphal march through Lille, as it had spent more time in the front line around this town than had any other Division. Further, it claimed to have been the senior division in France at the taking of Lille.

For this, “L’Entrée Solennelle des troupes Britanniques,” as it was advertised in the town, which took place on the 28th of October, “C” Company was detailed to form part of a cordon round the Grand Place, and the remainder of the Battalion took part in the long procession through the gaily decorated streets between the cheering crowds of the recently liberated populace.

The Battalion proceeded to Hellemes, a suburb on the eastern side of Lille, and were again billeted in a factory, where German field-post letters were strewn about the floor and orders to troops still posted on the walls. In the afternoon nearly every one enjoyed the interest of a visit to the town, where famine prices prevailed. In several shop windows the following placard printed in red, white and blue had been placed:

“HONOUR AND GLORY TO THE 47TH DIVISION. OUR DELIVERERS.”

“LILLE, le 17 Octobre, 1918.”

The enterprising Canteen Manager of the Civil Service Rifles sought out the publisher of this poster and secured a batch of posters for sale as souvenirs in the Regimental Canteen. One of them has been framed and now hangs on a wall of the dining room in the Civil Service Rifles’ Club.

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XXV. THE ARMISTICE

Although the inhabitants of Lille considered the war to be over--as it undoubtedly was so far as they were concerned--the guns could still be heard out on the Tournai road, and on the 30th of October the 47th Division left Lille and continued the pursuit of the enemy. The Civil Service Rifles marched along the Tournai road and spent the night at Chereng, continuing the march next day to Froyennes, a suburb of Tournai, where they relieved the 2/4th South Lancashire Regiment in the front line under conditions which have surely never existed before in any part of the front line in any war.

Froyennes is a suburb of convents and magnificent châteaux. One of the latter had been the Headquarters of Prince Rupprecht of Bavaria when he commanded a German Army Corps. It now became the Headquarters of a half of “A” Company of the Civil Service Rifles.

There were no trenches in the front line at Froyennes, the sentry posts being either in the front room of a house, the back garden or a street corner. In one street the Germans occupied houses on one side, and the Civil Service Rifles the houses opposite.

The suburb was pretty freely shelled, mostly with gas shells, but the houses for the most part were not very badly damaged. In a good many of them and in most of the convents the civilians had remained. They had been allowed to do so because it was thought at first that the advance would soon carry the front line beyond Froyennes.

The advance, however, was held up for some days along this line, which followed the general line of the River Scheldt hereabouts. The Scheldt ran through Tournai and outside the eastern and northern borders of Froyennes.

Tournai was still occupied by Germans at this time, and, as at Lille, the capture of the town was a somewhat slow process.

The situation in Froyennes remained unchanged for some few days, the posts, as has been stated, being mostly in houses by daytime. By night, further posts were held alongside the roads.

The Company Headquarters were all either in châteaux or convents. “A” Company Headquarters was in the Château Beauregard, the residence of the Comtesse Thérèse de Germiny, who, although her house had been knocked about by a shell which came through her drawing room wall, remained in residence. The Countess was the “Lady Bountiful” of the village, she having taken under her wing all the poor and homeless who cared to accept her hospitality. To these she gave not only a home, but also refuge from shell fire in her cellars.

The Countess spoke excellent English, and by the kindly interest she took in the comfort of the troops occupying her château, she became quite a favourite of the men of “A” Company.

The “B” Company Headquarters was in a convent for the aged and infirm. In this building were nuns, many of whom had been bedridden for years before the war began. These invalids had all been moved down into a cellar, which the troops endeavoured to make gas proof.

The front line posts were held by “A” “B” and “C” Companies, “D” being in reserve. Roughly speaking, “A” Company was responsible for the east of the village, “B” the south, and “C” the north.

“C” Company’s front, in fact, was right outside the town, the posts being between the river and the main road running from Tournai to Courtrai, though by day the men were withdrawn to houses. This front was much wider than that allotted to the other two Companies and it was more in the open. The Company Headquarters was in a convent at the western edge of the suburb. Civilians shared the accommodation with the troops, and it is said that the children played in No Man’s Land by day.

Between the posts along the road and the River Scheldt was a wide marsh, and it was the duty of patrols at night to make their way across the marsh and creep along the river bank.

“C” Company had further excitement on the night of the 3rd of November when the Royal Engineers tried to bridge the Scheldt, which at this point is quite a narrow stream. Two platoons, acting as covering party, got into position on the river bank without any difficulty, but as soon as the work began, an enemy machine gun across the river opened fire. The bridging operations were shut down for the night, and the troops were lucky to get away without casualties.

“D” Company occupied a large building, a convent which had been deserted, near the “C” Company Headquarters. The men had had many a worse billet, even when out of the line.

The shelling became more frequent as time went on, and casualties occurred to several civilians. On the 3rd of November the civilians were ordered to evacuate Froyennes. Hitherto they had simply been advised to go, and told that transport would be lent to them to help them remove their belongings. But it now became necessary to compel them to go, and on the night of the 3rd a fleet of motor ambulances and other transport took them all to a place of safety in Lille. It was a pathetic sight to see the poor old creatures from “B” Company’s convent being loaded into ambulances, for they had accepted the situation in the cellar so calmly and philosophically, and they were now loath to leave what had been their home for so many years. It was almost a self-supporting convent, for in the gardens vegetables of all kinds were grown. Many fowls and rabbits were also kept, and the Mother Superior on her departure presented these to “B” Company. Roast fowl in the front line was a luxury which surprised the oldest soldier in the Company.

It should not be thought, however, that life at Froyennes was free from the horrors of war for, the Civil Service Rifles lost one killed and ten wounded in the five days spent there. After the assurance from the people of Lille that the war was over, this was regarded as a heavy casualty list. Of these casualties, Private G. A. Watson, “B” Company, who was killed on the 2nd of November, proved to be the last man of the 1st Civil Service Rifles who was killed in action.

The Battalion was relieved on the 4th of November, and marched to reserve billets in the village of Cornet, just off the main road, and half-way between Tournai and Lille.

Froyennes had been described as a village of convents and châteaux. Cornet can only be described as a village of hovels and mud, but the squalor of this wretched place was forgotten in the excitement caused by the news that the war was now “all over bar shouting,” and that the signing of the terms of the Armistice was expected daily.

The Bulgars, the Austrians and the Turks had already accepted terms, but these had caused no excitement. The only terms that mattered to the troops in France were those to be imposed on the Bosches. A big sweepstake was organised in the Battalion at Cornet on the hour at which the Armistice terms to Germany would be signed. But before the prize was won the military situation in the immediate vicinity had undergone a change, and the Civil Service Rifles were pursuing the enemy in open warfare once more.

News was received on the 9th of November that the Scheldt had been crossed and the Germans had left Tournai. The Battalion immediately left Cornet and moved to Froyennes, Companies occupying their old billets. Pursuit of the enemy was slow owing to the fact that the pontoon bridge constructed by the Royal Engineers at Froyennes was the only passage across the river for the whole Division. The arrangement was for the two Infantry Brigades holding the front line to advance simultaneously, with the Reserve Brigade following close up.

The 140th Brigade on the right accordingly advanced on Melles, a village about six miles north-east of Tournai on the main road to Ath. The Civil Service Rifles, being the Reserve Battalion, did not move beyond Froyennes on the first day of the advance, but on the 10th of November the Battalion crossed the river and joined in the hunt. Although the advance was continued well beyond Melles the Germans had retreated so quickly that they were not seen even by the advanced guard, and the 140th Brigade halted for the night in the villages around Montroeul Au Bois, the Civil Service Rifles being billeted in the little hamlet of Barberie. The natives gave the troops a warm welcome, for it was only on the previous night that they had been compelled to shelter the retreating Bosches.

It was now decided that each Brigade in turn should furnish the advanced guard for the advance of the Division, and the 140th Brigade was detailed to act in that capacity on the morrow. The Civil Service Rifles would be the vanguard, and the details were explained to Company Commanders late on the night of the 10th. The Battalion scouts, on bicycles, were to move off at 6.45 a.m. and keep in touch with the cavalry screen furnished by the 19th Hussars. The Companies were to move off at 7.30 a.m. and the duty of the Battalion was to advance on the general line of the river Dendre and seize the bridges over the Dendre canal on the outskirts of Ath, not far from Brussels.

This would have given the Battalion its first experience of vanguards in real war, and the troops were eagerly anticipating a visit to Brussels during the next few days. These hopes, however, were never fulfilled, for at 2.30 a.m. on the 11th of November, the news reached the Battalion that the orders for the advance were cancelled. No explanation was given, and a rumour that the war was over was strengthened by an order received later in the morning for the Battalion to march back to Tournai.

The rumour was discredited when the Battalion got on the main road to Tournai and met a whole Division going in the opposite direction, but when a low-flying aeroplane appeared, gaily decorated with coloured ribbons and making a terrible noise with its Klaxon horn, there could be little doubt that the Armistice terms had been signed. This was confirmed by a passing officer in a motor-car, and the news was conveyed to the troops by the Regimental Band, who, by a happy inspiration of Sergeant Blackmore, the Bandmaster, struck up an air which had been popular throughout the British Army during the past four years:

“When this ruddy war is over Oh, how happy I shall be.”

It should be placed on record that this was the only intimation of the armistice which reached the Battalion beyond announcements in the Press. The Civil Service Rifles received no official news that an armistice had been granted, although a telephone message from Brigade on the night of the 12th of November gave particulars of the various armaments, etc., which were to be surrendered.

Tournai was reached in the afternoon of the 11th of November, and the men were once more accommodated in a convent, where the nuns came out in a body and expressed their gratitude to the British troops.

So the Civil Service Rifles saw the end of the Great War, and a tamer finish it is impossible to imagine. There were many whose ambition it had been to be in the front line on the last day of the war, and many were the conjectures as to what it would be like, but none ever guessed that it would fizzle out in such a miserable and uninteresting fashion. To be left to read of it in the newspapers was about the feeblest finish that could have happened, and while there were jubilations in London and elsewhere on armistice night, there was absolutely nothing in the area occupied by the 140th Infantry Brigade in the nature of a celebration of so great a victory. The district was very gloomy, and its name, La Tombe, appeared a very appropriate one.

Things looked up somewhat on the following evening, when a Battalion concert was held in the Convent, to which the civilians were invited. They did not understand a word of the concert, but they applauded everything vigorously, and at the close, when the chairs were cleared away, the natives went fairly mad with joy at an impromptu dance.

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XXVI. HOME

Little remains to be said of the history of the 1st Civil Service Rifles in France, but before the story is closed mention should be made of a few incidents which stand out in the last few months before demobilisation was complete.

After the concert at Tournai the Battalion once more marched out along the road to Brussels, but this time the route was along the lower road, and the troops were employed for a time in repairing the railway at Leuze. They were billeted in the little village of Pipaix, where they made great friends with the villagers and were very happy. It was hoped that even yet they would get to Germany, but a bitter disappointment was in store, for it was decreed that the 47th Division should end its career in France in the same district where it started, and in less than a week the Civil Service Rifles left Pipaix for Willems, a village between Tournai and Lille, where a week was spent before starting the trek across the devastated area to the mud and squalor of the coal-fields around Auchel.

It should perhaps be mentioned that to Sergeant Haycock, the Battalion Pioneer Sergeant, fell the distinction of being the first member of the Battalion to be demobilised. He left Willems for that purpose on the 23rd of November, 1918.

The journey to the coal-fields began on the 26th of November, and, after a night in the suburbs of Lille, the interest of the trek, especially to “the 17th of March man” consisted in a last glimpse at the ruins of La Bassée and the Double Crassier, dominating the village and battle-field of Loos, and, later, the brick-fields at Cuinchy he had fired at so zealously nearly four years ago. The night of the 27th of November was spent at Bethune, within a stone’s throw of the Girl’s School where the Battalion had been quartered on its first visit to the line. Suppers were obtained at small cafés in the suburbs, but those who looked for the gay patisseries they once knew now found the site of the old town, including the picturesque church, belfry and Hôtel du Nord, a desolate waste of charred bricks! The next day a war-worn and weary Battalion reversed the march described at the beginning of Chapter II, the journey being extended some two kilometres beyond Cauchy-a-la-Tour to Ferfay.

In spite of Ferfay having been a Corps Headquarters, the accommodation at first was poor, but the troops soon settled down, and, making the most of the wretched conditions, contrived to have a jolly good time during their last days in France.

A number of N.C.O.’s and men distinguished themselves as educational instructors at the classes which were held daily, and Sergeant Blackmore’s “Sunday League Concerts” became quite a popular weekly function.

A good deal of football was played, and the Battalion got together excellent teams, both Rugby and Association.

The Association match against the 2nd Battalion Civil Service Rifles, who were beaten by four goals to three, on the 14th of December, was the event of the season. The crowd was a record one and included about 100 members of the 2nd Battalion who were billeted about twelve miles away. In the evening a concert was held in the theatre, the programme being provided by talent from both Battalions.

After a really merry Christmas the Battalion began to melt away. Demobilisation began in earnest with the New Year, and parties of twenty-five or thirty left for England almost daily. Large crowds assembled outside the Battalion Headquarters to give the lucky ones a rousing send-off, and the procession through the village was headed by the Regimental Band, until the day came when the Band played itself out of the village and left for home.

Before that day came, however, the Band had supplied the orchestra for a highly successful revue, “Pack up,” which was played in the theatre by a company of officers, N.C.O.’s and men of the Civil Service Rifles trained by Corporal Bailey of “B” Company. The “book” was written by Major D. Young, M.C., second in command of the Battalion, the music was “put together” by Second-Lieutenant P. H. Small, and the play was produced by Corporal Bailey. R.Q.M.S. Hart excelled himself with the wonderful stage effects which he devised.

Of the actors special mention should be made of Private Perrin, Captain “Florrie” Ford, and the two “girls,” Lance-Corporal Harnett and Lance-Corporal Flight, and Sergeant Taylor. But the whole Company is to be congratulated on the best show ever given by a Battalion concert party. The production got such an enthusiastic reception that it was given at Auchel and other places for the benefit of other units.

Although demobilisation began just before New Year, it was not until the 10th of May, 1919, that the last remnants, the “Cadre,” consisting of about thirty all ranks, reached England.

It should perhaps be mentioned that there was not a single officer, N.C.O. or man outside the Quartermaster’s staff and transport section who served with the Battalion continuously throughout its stay in France.

Included in the Cadre was Sergeant Teasdale, a member of the Regiment for nearly twenty years. For more than nineteen of his twenty years he had been a humble private, and as a raconteur at Regimental concerts he never had an equal. He had been in France with the 1st Civil Service Rifles as a member of the Quartermaster’s staff ever since the Battalion landed in 1915. It is said that he accepted his third stripe owing to the keen demand for his stories in the Sergeants’ Mess.

The two war trophies that had been preserved by the Civil Service Rifles and brought home also deserve special mention.

One generally expects a war trophy to be some instrument of war, but the Civil Service Rifles war trophies were an instrument of music, viz., a piano, and a presidential chair.

The piano was captured at Nurlu during the heavy fighting on the Somme in the first days of September, 1918, and the Regiment is chiefly indebted to Major Young for this uncommon trophy. It is also through the ingenuity of the same officer that the Regiment was represented in the salving of H.M.S. Vindictive at Ostend, whence came the “presidential chair,” for it was through his efforts that two pioneers of the Civil Service Rifles found their way to Ostend in 1918, and worked on the salved ship, producing out of a piece of teak taken from the decks, a handsome chair on which the Regimental crest is carved. Thus it transpired that whereas their keenest rivals in the London Regiment are said to have sunk the Emden, the 1st Civil Service Rifles can claim to have salved the Vindictive.

The home-coming of the Cadre was an even more dismal experience than the celebration of the Armistice, for the party was taken stealthily to Felixstowe of all places, and from there the members drifted away one by one until all that remained were Colonel Feilding and Colour-Sergeant Chubb, the Orderly Room clerk. These were then permitted to return to Somerset House.

But although the Battalion had, as it were, been scattered to the four winds, the spirit of comradeship, which had been so characteristic of the Regiment in war, still prevailed in peace-time.

Already, before demobilisation was nearly completed, a meeting of members of the Regiment had been held at Somerset House, and it had been resolved to proceed forthwith to found a Club as a memorial to those of the Regiment who had lost their lives in the war, and as a place of reunion for those who survive. A temporary home was found at Somerset House, where the School of Arms was converted into a lounge, and on the 28th of April, 1920, the Club was opened by Major-General G. D. Jeffreys, G.-O.-C. London District, who congratulated the Civil Service Rifles on being the first Territorial unit to form such a club, which forges a link between the old generation and the new in the Regiment, and where, for many years to come, the new members of the Regiment will be able to meet those who, in the Great War of 1914-1918, helped to make history for the Civil Service Rifles.

2nd Battalion, Civil Service Rifles

BY MAJOR A. C. H. BENKÉ.[15]

[15] Major Benké, D.S.O., M.C., acting Lieut.-Colonel, 1919, till demobilised.--EDITOR.

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Preface

This brief story of the 2/15th Battalion, London Regiment, is written, not as a specimen of literary art, but merely as a record of the work of the Battalion during the War of 1914-1918.

It is compiled from rough notes in my pocket diary, and probably some of the events in the experience of others have been overlooked, and to these I offer my apologies.

I have to thank Lieutenants J. L. Hutchinson, M.C., and T. H. E. Clark for their kindness and assistance in furnishing the notes for the greater part of Chapters IX and XI, especially the accounts of the Capture of Jerusalem, the Turkish Counter-Attack at Tel el Ful, and the journey to Es Salt. In these actions both these officers served with distinction.

I have also taken the liberty to include extracts from a Brief History of the 30th Division in France, in writing up the last three chapters of this book.

A. C. H. BENKÉ.

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Chapter XXVII

FORMATION--TRAINING--IRISH REBELLION, 1916--AND DEPARTURE FOR FRANCE, JUNE, 1916

During the early days of August, 1914, the Headquarters of the Civil Service Rifles at Somerset House was besieged by crowds of younger Civil Servants; either wishing to re-enlist in their old Battalion, or to start their military career in the Civil Service Rifles, which had been mobilised for Active Service. Many of them were able to gain an entrance into the 1st Battalion, but others were disappointed. From the latter the nucleus of a second line unit was formed, and eventually the War Office authorised the existence of a new Battalion, the 2/15th Battalion, County of London Regiment.

The feeling of a separate existence brought with it great enthusiasm, and although arms, equipment and stores were slow in coming, every one worked hard to make an efficient unit. Training was carried out in the London parks, and each morning the semi-equipped army of recruits marched out of Somerset House for the day’s work. Indeed, so slow was the equipping of the Battalion that many of the keener members wondered whether they would be “too late for the war.”

However, before very long the new unit, under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel R. G. Hayes, T.D., left London for Dorking. This was, indeed, a pleasant change from the Metropolis, where friends constantly asked the budding rifleman, “Why aren’t you at the front?”

Training was pursued with more realism in the new area; organisation improved, and the novelty of “billets” was still prevalent. A word of appreciation for the kindness of the people of Dorking might well be included in this book. They did all they could to make the new soldiers comfortable.

Route marches among the beautiful Surrey Hills and sham fights over the surrounding country-side soon brought the physique of the men to a high standard, and the rigors of a cold, wet winter were easily borne. Leith Hill, the pleasure ground of many a week-end in previous years, became the training ground of England’s new armies. True, the pack and the rifle made the climbing stiffer, but keenness and enthusiasm to get out to fight the Bosche helped one to forget the additional fatigue.

Early in the spring of 1915, drafts were furnished for the completion of the 1st Battalion at Watford, which had then been ordered to France. This depleted the ranks of the younger unit, but recruits arrived from Somerset House, where a third line depot had been established, and the 2nd Battalion soon recovered its numbers, and shortly afterwards followed in the footsteps of the 1st Battalion which had then left for the front.

The move of the 2nd Battalion from Dorking was the first real move as a unit, and was creditably done. How many hours of worry and labour it involved does not concern us here, but what a contrast to the 2nd Battalion of two years later, which moved its home complete within a couple of hours after the receipt of orders; every one working with the precision of an automatic machine.

Following so closely on the heels of our 1st Battalion at Watford, added to the welcome of the people of Hertfordshire. The impression left by the parent Battalion was exceedingly fine, and the Watford folk looked upon the 2nd Battalion as part of a regiment they loved; in fact, they felt a part ownership in the Civil Service Rifles, and continued to thrust upon us all those wonderful kindnesses they had so recently bestowed upon the 1st Battalion. Houses were thrown open for entertainment, baths and meals; and there was no difficulty in billeting; every one was welcomed into the household. It must be remembered that at this time the billeting of troops in private houses was new to the people of Britain. In some parts it was a matter for misgivings and suspicions. In Watford, however, the whole town opened their hearts to welcome the Battalion, and, in fairness to the troops, it must be recorded that they lived up to that splendid standard expected of them as soldiers and gentlemen.

The stay at Watford was indeed a happy one, and training was carried out in the local parks at Cassiobury and Munden. Each day areas for manœuvres were allotted to the various Battalions of the Brigade, now known as the 2/4th London Infantry Brigade, comprising the second line units of the Kensingtons, London Scottish, Civil Service and Queen’s Westminsters.

Musketry was done at Chalk Hill ranges, a few miles from St. Albans, and by the summer the Battalion was an efficient unit. The earlier heart-burnings of the “fire-eaters” that they would be “too late” were dispersed; the war on the continent had developed into a far greater conflict than many had ever imagined.

In June, 1915, the Battalion, now under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel E. F. Strange, trekked to Saffron Walden, and encamped in Audley End Park. It was a lovely English summer, and all will remember the glorious golden carpet of buttercups in the camp; undoubtedly one of the prettiest camps in England. Being under canvas was a new experience for many, but the Battalion soon settled down to its new life away from the home comforts of Watford.

Here the summer of 1915 was passed. Training on similar lines to that at Watford was continued. Classes were instituted for specialists. Day after day the same routine was pursued, until rumours furnished the only excitement; and such rumours too! Was the Battalion to be kept in England on Home Service? Had the War Office forgotten its existence? Was not the Battalion good enough? Was it to be a draft-finding unit? etc., etc.--such were the questions that resulted from these rumours.

Then came the furnishing of a draft of about 100 strong to the 1st Battalion in France, and this in the minds of many sealed the fate of the Battalion. Never would the 2nd Battalion take its place as a fighting unit in the Great War.

However the horizon brightened, and all those men who had only volunteered for home service were ordered to be transferred to the 3rd line unit. It is not for anyone to comment upon the actions of others; circumstances alter cases, and during the war to act up to the dictates of one’s own conscience was the duty of all. Nevertheless, the departure of the home service contingent was a matter of great relief to the 2nd Battalion. True, many good friends were lost, and many who had striven hard for the efficiency and well-being of the Battalion had to bid farewell; but for those who remained there was that resuscitated feeling that the 2nd Battalion would some day take its proper place in the fight on the continent.

Fresh drafts were received, and a large training company was established where men qualified as trained soldiers and then passed into their respective companies. New N.C.O.’s had to be found, and special classes of instruction were organised, and again the Battalion felt itself to be an independent unit, every one earnest for foreign service.

This history of the Battalion’s doings at Saffron Walden must contain a reference to the two treks, the one to Furneaux Pelham and the other to Braintree and Stebbing. It was during these two expeditions that the 2/15th had their first real taste of campaigning; a day’s marching, an outpost or an attack, then a night in the open, which was the nearest approach to the actual war obtainable in England. From a military point of view the success of these operations was, of course, doubtful; every one had different views, but as a well-known Brigadier always said to the 1st Battalion at the end of a day’s operations, “Shot and shell would tell.” However, there can be no doubt that they proved conclusively that the spirit of the Battalion was right, and that all the inconveniences of treks were taken, by all, as part of the game.

By this time winter was approaching, and the canvas camp at Saffron Walden was becoming a rather cheerless place on wet days. On the 26th October, 1915, the Battalion proceeded by road to billets at Bishop Stortford. The whole of the Brigade was billeted in the area, and memories of the happy days at Watford sprung up. The billets were good, and the local people made the Battalion welcome. It is true many billets were crowded, but the size of the town would not admit of so large a concentration as the Brigade, less the Kensingtons who were billeted in a village a few miles south. The stay, however, was not to be a long one, for no sooner had the central cook-houses, miniature range, etc., been thoroughly established, than orders for a move to Ware were received.

On the 29th of November the Battalion packed up, and after a long march of about sixteen miles arrived at Ware. An earnest welcome was given by the townspeople, and the prospect of Christmas in Ware caused every one to keep a bright look-out for any good things Ware might produce. The officers of the Battalion formed a regimental mess in a large, roomy house at the top of the hill overlooking the town, where most of the officers were billeted. In the same building an excellent dining-room, a smoke-room and a card-room had been arranged, all of which proved to be great boons, more especially as the attractions of Ware in the way of evening entertainments were few.

The local drill hall was taken over as a central place for battalion messing, each company marching from its own area for meals. At Christmas time this hall was used for concerts, and a splendid Battalion dinner was held on Christmas Day. Some of the less fortunate members were, however, detailed at that time for aeroplane guards in the surrounding villages. Ware was on the outer defences of London against air raids, and pickets were arranged in the Ware district, armed with mysterious rockets for the purpose of representing anti-aircraft batteries. However, on no occasion was it necessary to use these alarming fireworks, and in spite of being on duty, these outlying posts are believed to have spent a very jovial Christmas. Leave was freely given, and the proximity of Ware to London was a great advantage, as was proved within a very short time; for on the 22nd January, 1916, the Battalion entrained during the night for Salisbury Plain.

Late in the afternoon of the 23rd, Warminster was reached, and after a march of about four or five miles a city of comfortable looking huts appeared. Their apparent comfort, however, quickly disappeared when the mud of Longbridge Deverill came into evidence. The interior of the huts so recently vacated by a division which had left for France, was little better than the filth outside. However, the Battalion was now becoming accustomed to this kind of thing, and soon settled down. Improvements were made in the camp, and competition between the various units of the Division for the smartest camp was soon astir. The whole Division (now known as the 60th (London) Division) was concentrated between Longbridge Deverill and Sutton Veny. The divisional R.E., A.S.C., R.A.M.C., and R.F.A. appeared in reality, and it was obvious to all that the Battalion was at last part of a real fighting division destined at some time or other to go abroad.

Everything was advancing at a pace, and stores and material were brought up to War Establishment. Training and musketry was being completed, the Regular Army Course having been fired on the local range. Manœuvres by the whole Division became daily routine, and inspections were frequent. Hopes ran high for an early departure for France, when suddenly, on the 28th April, 1916, the Battalion was ordered to proceed to Ireland with the rest of our Brigade.

Political events in Dublin had developed into war during Eastertide, every one was full of the possibility of Dublin; others said that France was the real destination, and the orders for Ireland were mere camouflage to deceive the Hun; while others, less optimistic, imagined a permanent exile in Ireland for the duration of the war.

However, all rumours were soon dispelled during the night of the 29th April, and the Battalion entrained at Warminster bound for Neyland near Pembroke Dock.

The following day was Sunday, and the Battalion spent a beautiful summer day on the grassy slopes facing the sea, awaiting embarkation to an unknown port, while the officers were kindly entertained by the Officers’ Mess of the 4th Welsh Regiment, which was stationed a few miles inland. Late in the evening a large quantity of rations was issued, and the prospect of a long sea journey arose in the minds of most of us. The night, however, was without alarms, and not until the following morning did the Battalion embark. Part of the unit, together with the transport section, sailed on the Archangel, and the remainder on board the Rathmore; both transports leaving the harbour early in the evening.

Here was real adventure at last, sailing to an unknown destination through seas frequented by enemy submarines. At daybreak the coast of Ireland was sighted, and at 4.30 a.m. we were alongside the quays of Queenstown. The disembarkation was without incident beyond the warning that we were now in “enemy” country. We proceeded straightway through the town to Belvelly Camp on Fota Island. No demonstration was made by the Irish people, and no one could understand why they should be regarded with suspicion. Smiles greeted the troops, and the unfortunate Battalion Signalling Officer, who was leading the Battalion on the march, was severely reprimanded by his superior for talking to some charming Irish damsels. The B.S.O. excused himself on the grounds that he was asking the way; a reply which brought forth a still further admonition for “enquiring of the enemy.” The new camp on Fota Island was situated in a beautiful Irish park, the property of Lord Ballymore, and for the next few days the Battalion was engaged on ordinary field training and not a bloodthirsty battle as many had anticipated.

The weather turned wet, and this fact alone appears to be a sufficient reason for the “Staff” to order a move with its consequent discomfort. On the 6th May the Battalion left the camp at Belvelly and proceeded to Ballincorrig via Cork. The march was performed in the rain, though while actually passing through the City of Cork the weather became kinder, and the streets were lined with the citizens, none of whom appeared to be really warlike. The real sensation, however, was an officer of the Munsters who passed the Battalion. He wore a steel helmet, which at that time was unique and rarely seen in the United Kingdom, and the atmosphere of real war conjured up by that single steel helmet somewhat counteracted the peacefulness of Cork. Leaving the town was to leave the finer weather; for the rest of the journey the downpour was terrific, and when the Battalion reached Ballincorrig no one was sorry. The Battalion was housed in the local cavalry barracks, and every one will remember the splendid comradeship of the artillerymen stationed there, who did all they could to attend to the needs of the soaked Battalion. The riding school was full of tired Londoners, but how they welcomed those steaming “dixies” of tea prepared by the barracks cooks. Tiredness soon disappeared, and fraternising was the “order of the night”; officers to the officers’ mess, sergeants to the sergeants’ mess, and men to the canteen. The horrors of the day’s march of 16 miles in the rain were forgotten, and a pleasant evening was spent. A word of thanks is also due to those artillerymen who so kindly took over the Battalion transport on arrival and groomed and fed the horses. Here, indeed, was the brotherly spirit, which existed so strongly in the British Tommy, illustrated.

The next morning the Battalion was astir early, the march was resumed, our destination being Coachford. The journey was shorter, about 12 miles, and the Battalion marched through some of the most beautiful Irish scenery, small villages like Dripsey on the route, with its tiny hovels sheltering animals and fowls in the living rooms, gave us an insight into Irish village life. Coachford, a sleepy little Irish village, was reached in the evening, and tents, which had been conveyed in advance by motor lorries, were soon erected on the local recreation ground, and the Battalion nestled down for the night. The next day the march was continued as far as Macroom, the day was fine and the march fairly short. Early in the afternoon the town of Macroom was reached, and the population turned out to welcome the Battalion. The camping ground was situated on the river banks in the grounds of the ancient castle of Macroom. By evening time the Battalion had settled down and every one hoped for a long stay in this glorious spot. The following day was market day in Macroom, and the town was crowded with people from the surrounding villages and farms; officers and men were allowed in the town, a happy release after the restrictions in existence since our arrival in Ireland. Shops were besieged and luxuries were purchased to supplement the rations of “active service.” Talking of purchases, most members of the Battalion will remember the famous small goat bought by an officer, which although an affectionate animal, became a nuisance by thrusting its vocal efforts upon that tent in any battalion camp which should be approached with bated breath, a salute and the word “Sir.”

Mystery surrounded the first armed party of about 100 strong which left the camp that night under the guidance of the Royal Irish Constabulary. However, the following morning all was common knowledge; a few Irishmen had been arrested, while the farm in which they lived had been surrounded by the troops to prevent escape. These were the “rebels” which the Battalion had set out to quell.

The stay at Macroom only lasted a few days, and the Battalion continued its march inland under the command of Major A. A. Oliver; our Commanding Officer Lieutenant-Colonel Strange having been sent to hospital seriously ill. Only a privileged few knew the day’s destination, but towards dusk the Battalion halted near Mill Street and turned off the main road into a field where tea was soon prepared by the company cooks. No tents on motor lorries were to be seen; a drizzle set in, and every one wondered whether it would mean a night in the wet with only waterproof sheets, which had already done great service throughout the day. Several hours passed, no orders were forthcoming, and every one became pessimistic. Finally, however, an entraining officer was appointed with the usual complement of N.C.O.’s and this ended all discussion. The Battalion was to move off by train. The geography of Ireland had been forgotten since school days and the names of likely places were confined to the Limerick and Dublin areas; however, about midnight the Battalion marched to the station at Mill Street, entrained rapidly and steamed out into the gloom of a wet, misty Irish fog. Tired by the day’s march of 16 miles over the moorlands of the Bochragh Mountains every one slept, and no one troubled about our destination. Great was the surprise, however, the next morning to wake and find that the train had pulled up on Rosslare Pier. France was in every one’s mouth, and then the memory of the Quartermaster Stores and rear details at Warminster dispelled such ideas. The day was spent on the stone pier of the harbour and eventually at 7 p.m. the Battalion set sail on the Connaught, reaching Fishguard after a pleasant crossing of four hours’ duration. Little did one think that within a few weeks the same troopship would convey the Battalion to France. Within an hour of reaching Fishguard the Battalion was entrained and started for Warminster, which was reached about 7 a.m. on the 13th May, 1916. After a short march we arrived back at our old camp at Longbridge Deverill. The visit to Ireland soon appeared like a dream, so sudden and so short had it been. The value of the “Irish stunt,” as it was commonly called, cannot be discounted, even if actual warfare had not been encountered. The Battalion had learnt to entrain and detrain; embark and disembark; and move its home day by day and in general to become a mobile unit. The experience was invaluable.

Back in Warminster the old question cropped up: “When is the Battalion going to France?” The slightest alteration in the daily routine was regarded by the numerous Sherlock Holmes in the Battalion as distinct clues pointing to an early departure for the front. However, signs soon became very real when additional Lewis guns, field dressings, active service pay books, and identity discs, were issued, and soon the Battalion was complete in regard to stores. A final medical examination was held and innoculation and vaccination were soon in full swing. Embarkation leave was granted and one whole day was spent before the camera; photographs of companies, sections and specialists were taken. Every one was hopeful.

On the 31st May, 1916, the whole division was inspected by H.M. The King, and it was a splendid sight to see the troops in review order on the slopes of the Wiltshire Downs. The 60th Division was fit and ready for the front; and on the 21st June, 1916, the final orders were received and the following morning the Battalion, under the Command of Lieutenant-Colonel C. de Putron, entrained at Warminster for Southampton. Many of the townsfolk turned out in the early morning and gave us a hearty send-off.

The following was the list of Officers and Warrant Officers, etc. who left for France:--

Commanding Officer Lieutenant-Colonel C. de Putron. Second in Command Major A. A. Oliver. Adjutant Captain A. W. Gaze. Medical Officer Captain F. J. Leech, R.A.M.C. Quarter Master Lieutenant A. A. Joslin. Transport Officer Second-Lieutenant F. T. Bailey. Lewis Gun Officer Lieutenant W. S. H. Smith. Signalling Officer Lieutenant P. W. Thorogood.

“A” Company: Captain F. F. Tarver, Lieutenants C. H. Rimington and H. F. Rust, Lieutenant B. Peatfield, and Second-Lieutenant L. H. Hart. Company Sergeant Major H. A. Syrad and Company Quartermaster Sergeant J. C. Sale.

“B” Company: Captain C. A. Bailey, Captain A. C. H. Benké, Lieutenant J. H. Randolph, and Second-Lieutenants A. V. James, S. C. Bennett and H. J. Spencer. Company Sergeant Major H. T. Bassett and Company Quartermaster Sergeant W. D. Shanahan.

“C” Company: Major H. F. M. Warne, Captain K. A. Wills, Second-Lieutenants F. J. Smith, E. E. Andrews, F. E. Gearing, and F. W. Westmore. Company Sergeant Major J. S Oldcorn and Company Quartermaster Sergeant A. J. Rodd.

“D” Company: Captain F. R. Radice, Captain K. W. M. Pickthorn, and Second-Lieutenants F. W. Lewis, C. M. Kilner, G. E. Thompson and K. A. Higgs. Company Sergeant Major H. W. Lovelock and Company Quartermaster Sergeant F. King.

Regimental Sergeant Major A. H. Freemantle (Scots Guards).

Regimental Quartermaster Sergeant A. C. Gibson.

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Chapter XXVIII

FRANCE, 22ND JUNE, 1916, TO 19TH NOVEMBER, 1916--IN THE TRENCHES AT NEUVILLE ST. VAAST--BATTALION RAID--JOURNEY TO MARSEILLES.

The journey to France was without incident; the train from Salisbury Plain arrived at Southampton Docks about midday on the 22nd of June, 1916, and after a few hours on the quayside the Battalion embarked on board H. M. Transport Connaught, the boat which only a few weeks before had brought us over from Ireland. Complimentary messages from the Embarkation Staff on the excellent and business-like behaviour of the Battalion pleased us. At about 10 p.m. we set sail, and the calm sea made the journey comparatively comfortable. True, it was crowded on board, but not to that extent that it reminded one of the proverbial “sardines in a box.” During the morning of the 23rd of June the Battalion set foot on the Continent at Havre. Great excitement prevailed; the novelty of France, the quaint French poilus in their blue service kit; everything, in fact, seemed to belong to that world of dreams that had for so long evaded us; while a group of German prisoners of war on the quayside added spice to our first taste of foreign service. Rain set in, however, and made the short march to the rest camp distinctly unpleasant.

Leave was granted to limited numbers, who immediately availed themselves of the “good things” in the town, and incidentally the opportunity of airing their French, much of which was of the “primer” lesson book type, and was neither greatly appreciated nor understood by the townspeople, who replied in good English. But the French people are so polite that one is encouraged to persevere.

The Battalion retired to their tents for the night, but an early réveillé at 2.30 a.m. reminded every one that they were now on “Active Service,” and soon the whole camp was astir preparing to move. After a wait of many hours the Battalion left (less “B” Company, which moved later in the day) for the station, and were entrained in the famous “8 Chevaux, 40 Hommes” wagons of which we had heard so much. Any discomfort in travelling in these trucks was recompensed by the novelty of our new surroundings. The French people by this time had become serious over the war, and the route was not lined by cheering crowds as had been the case in the earlier days of the war; though the French children on the route still made frequent requests for bully beef, biscuits and cigarettes, in their best “Engleesh.” The journey terminated on the 25th in the St. Pol area, and the Battalion soon marched to its billets in the villages of Penin, Averdoight, and Roellecourt. These were the first billets in France, but every one managed to settle down comfortably whether in a cottage or in a barn. The local “vins rouges et blancs” were sampled, and the 2/15th Londons appreciated the mystic word “estaminet” for the first time. At times the rumble of heavy artillery could be heard in the distance, and this brought home to us the fact that we were nearing the firing line. Orders were received the following day to move forward to Maroeuil, a few miles north of Arras. The Battalion formed up on the high road from Penin, and started off gaily enough on a glorious summer evening. An advanced aerodrome was passed on the way, and the planes in the air, and the observation balloons in the distance, helped to make the first part of the marching interesting. Gradually the night clouds gathered, and a heavy downpour of rain rather “spoilt things.” French “pavé” roads which up to this time had been traversed unnoticed, became torture to tired feet, and troops billeted on the line of march were envied; however, the Battalion plodded along, and by 11 p.m. reached the battered town of Maroeuil, where a few civilians still remained. Not realising that the town was close to the firing line, and under the direct observation of the German lines, the Battalion freely used its hurricane lamps which reflected their rays on the ruined walls of the buildings, and there can be no doubt that the salvos of shells that greeted us on our arrival had been “asked for.”

Only two men were wounded slightly; not forgetting “A” Company’s cooker, which received a direct hit. However, these incidents were quite sufficient to make us realise the unpleasantness of war. Billets were soon found under the able guidance of the “Scotties” of the 51st Division, who apparently knew all the cellars in the town. The Battalion, after having a hot meal, went to bed feeling tired, but many spent a restless night wondering when the next strafe was due. The night was, however, quiet, and the next day, the 27th of June, was spent in finding our way around the town, and investigating the few estaminets which remained open, where we were regaled with the horrible details of war by the men of the 51st Division of Scottish Territorials who were then holding that part of the front line. The following morning the Battalion moved a few miles farther north under the cover of the valley behind the town as far as Bray, which nestled behind the ridge of Mont St. Eloy, and was out of observation by the Bosche. The Battalion was housed in large Army huts, similar to those we had left on Salisbury Plain. Every one was relieved to get away from the dingy cellars of Maroeuil, our unpleasant reception having given most of us a bad taste of the village and its cellars. On the 29th of June, the Battalion left Bray via Maroeuil for the firing line, and by means of deep communication trenches, which had been dug for a distance of four to five miles from the front line system as far back as Maroeuil, the relief was carried out by day. This was a great advantage to the new Battalion as it became accustomed to that weird feeling of being in a trench, before the night fell and obliterated all.

The surrounding country was covered with red poppies, and the setting sun shone gloriously on this carpet of colour. On the way ruined farms were seen at points of vantage, and near the main road from Arras to Souchez, with its avenue of trees destroyed by shell fire, we passed the famous Maison Blanche, a deep dug-out, large enough to hold a battalion. In nearly every depression in the ground were cleverly camouflaged battery positions, the sight of which encouraged us in our new venture. After a long march through communication trenches the reserve line of the Elbe shelters in a sunken road was reached, and companies were distributed in the support and reserve areas for the night. Seven days after leaving England the Battalion was in the firing line. During the night of the 29th of June, the Bosche raided the trenches of the “Black Watch” in the front line, and many of the Battalion who got mixed up in the “Box” barrage will never forget the terrific local bombardment which lasted for some twenty minutes. The Battalion was fortunate and sustained no loss, but the “Black Watch” unfortunately lost about ten men killed and missing, while others were wounded. For the next few days the Battalion was held in support and reserve, and tours of duty in the front line were made by officers and N.C.O.’s, under the instruction of the “Black Watch.” Dug-out life was studied, and every one became acquainted with the new routine. The Battalion soon acquired the attitude of the “man in the line,” and very many thanks are due to those battalions of the Scottish Division which so kindly assisted us to pick up the threads of trench life. On the 2nd of July, 1916, the Battalion took over the front line, and became responsible for that part just north of Roclincourt, and in front of Neuville St. Vaast. The weather was unkind, rain made the trenches extremely unpleasant, and together with the constant salvos of enemy trench mortars known as “Grey Pigeons,” “Lead Pencils,” “Oilcans,” and so on, according to their various shapes and sizes, those first few nights in the line proved rather trying to the Battalion of novices. Casualties were few, and the men soon learnt the “unhealthy” spots in the line, and avoided them whenever possible. This section of the front which was adjacent to the “Labyrinth” had been held by the French during the earlier stages of the war, and sad and gruesome relics of the heavy fighting by our gallant Allies were numerous in the trenches. The Battalion set to work, and did a great deal to improve them, though our work was constantly being destroyed by the intermittent bombardment of the enemy’s trench mortars and minenwerfers. Wiring along the front was improved, and patrols were sent out each night into “No Man’s Land,” although the proximity of the Bosche did not allow much latitude in this respect. At this time the great Somme Offensive had commenced, and the heavy artillery fire farther south could be distinctly heard; and although the 2/15th Londons had not participated in the actual fight, there was a great consolation in the fact that the Battalion was at last holding part of the line, thereby releasing more seasoned troops for the offensive and at the same time preparing themselves for their turn when it should come.

The insertion of a sketch of this sector might prove interesting at this point, for it was here that the Battalion was destined to spend its stay in France.

The front held by the 179th Brigade was from the Stone Communication Trench on the north to the Victoire Communication Trench on the south, about 2,500 yards in all. Two battalions held the front lines, a third battalion forming the supports and reserves, while the fourth battalion of the Brigade was out at rest at Bray. The 2/15th always occupied the right sub-sector of the Brigade front being relieved by the 2/14th (London Scottish); while the 2/13th and the 2/16th Battalions shared the responsibility of the left sub-sector.

The right sub-sector in which the Battalion was located ran from the Vissec Communication Trench to the Victoire, on the right flank.

This sub-sector was again divided into three company fronts as follows:--

(1) Vissec C.T. to Bentata C.T.

(2) Biras Sap to Point ‘D.’

(3) Point ‘D’ to Bonnell Avenue at Point ‘A.’

The front line proper ran along the Doublement, MacIntyre Street, across Argyle Street to Bonnell Avenue. The support line ran parallel to the front line at distances varying from 70 yards to 150 yards at the different places, while between the front line and the support line an intermediate line, chiefly occupied by machine guns and trench mortars, had been constructed. Forward of the front line an observation line had been dug, and in the centre of the Battalion front a strong redoubt known as the Paris Redoubt had been constructed. From the front line system connection with the rear was maintained by four arterial communication trenches, the Vissec, Claudot, Douai, and de la Vase. Many minor trenches made the whole system a perfect maze, and many disused trenches added to the difficulties of the network.

Three companies of the Battalion held the front line while the fourth company was in support on the right flank; the left flank support being furnished by the third battalion in the Brigade. While holding the line, Battalion Headquarters were situated in the Elbe Shelters, but when the line was handed over, and the Battalion had become support or third battalion of the Brigade, Battalion Headquarters transferred their activities to Maison Blanche.

On the 5th of July the Battalion were taken out of the line for a “rest,” but the word proved a misnomer. The Battalion was taken back as far as the Aux Rietz Cave in rear of Neuville St. Vaast and La Targette. Three companies were located in the cave, while “A” Company were billeted in dug-outs near La Targette. In the front line the Battalion had the good fortune to be housed in excellent dug-outs bequeathed to us by the French, but in no place on the whole British front could have been more secure from air-raids and shell fire than the Aux Rietz Cave.

Down wooden steps for over a hundred feet the weary infantrymen stumbled, and finally a wonderful underground world presented itself. A large cave capable of holding a thousand men, with hundreds of small candles lighting its sombre darkness, was the new home of the Battalion. Down here cook-houses were established, and all were able to roam about free from bombs, shells and bullets. A hot meal was soon prepared, and the weary Tommies soon fell asleep, in spite of the great heat and oppressive “fugginess” of their underground dwelling. The Battalion had not, however, escaped all the horrors of war, for the orderly sergeants of companies soon appeared and detailed numerous working parties, which were sent up the line that same evening to furnish Royal Engineer mining fatigues. Within a few hours most of the Battalion was retracing its steps through miles of trenches, knee deep in mud and water, to the front line, and after about six or eight hours strenuous work lifting and carrying heavy sandbags full of clay, they returned to the cave at Aux Rietz. A few hours’ respite was granted, and then the working parties were again paraded for another tour of duty with the Royal Engineer sappers. In fact, for several days it was a constant procession day and night of weary working parties leaving and returning to the cave. No one grumbled at the actual work with the Royal Engineers, but the long journey to and from the line provided sufficient for a “grouse”; every one longed for the front line again. The desire was quickly granted, and the Battalion were soon back in the trenches, and not until the 4th of August was it relieved. During this long stay in the line the Battalion became “old soldiers.” The cook-houses in the Elbe Shelter were thoroughly organised, and provided a hot meal each day to the men and a cup of hot cocoa each morning at “stand down.” The daily post and canteen stores came up with the rations each night, having been brought as far as Battalion Headquarters by the transport and Quartermaster’s staff; from which point company ration parties carried them to the front line. Specialists such as signallers, snipers, and bombers, overcame the various difficulties of their work. Every man learnt the way round his own particular sector; names of trenches, saps and craters became familiar, in fact the whole place became “a home from home.” Friends were made with the artillery forward observation officers and men, and the tunnellers on our front became companions in distress. A great deal of mining was carried on in this part of the British front, and our tunnellers were extremely busy combating the activities of the Bosche, and many restless nights were spent wondering whether the constant tapping underground was that of friend or foe.

Casualties were fortunately not very heavy, although one recollects with sadness such incidents as the dug-out in Argyle Street being blown in, burying Sergeant Wigney and his gallant fellows, but on the whole the Battalion had been lucky.

On the 4th of August the Battalion was relieved and marched back to Bray, this time for a real rest. The Quartermaster’s staff had prepared a hot meal, and after this repast was finished every one settled down for a well-earned rest away from the continual noise of the front line. The next few days were spent in cleaning up, replacing damaged equipment and boots, writing letters (not forgetting the censoring) and attending sundry parades. Dinners and suppers of varying degree were held either in the huts or in the local estaminets, and every one appreciated the restful green fields and shady trees near Bray, which had not been destroyed by the ravages of war. Entertainment was provided at Acq by the Divisional concert party, and our own Battalion concert party, “The Plumes” of Warminster days was resuscitated in an endeavour to add to the gaiety of life. On the 9th of August His Majesty the King visited the observation posts at Mont St. Eloy near by, and many of the Battalion were privileged to line the route and cheer His Majesty who was accompanied by His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales (our Honorary Colonel) and the Commander-in-Chief, Sir Douglas Haig.

On the 12th of August, after a week’s rest, the Battalion again proceeded to the line, and the old life amid the constant “strafes” of the Hun was resumed. Reliefs between companies were carried out with precision, and various fatigue parties, sap guards, gas guards, patrols and wiring parties kept every one busy. Parties of officers and N.C.O.’s spent a few days with the artillery batteries for the purpose of instruction. Nothing of importance, however, marked this tour in the line, and on the 1st September the Battalion was relieved and marched back to the huts at Bray.

On the 6th of September, we were again ordered up to the trenches. This tour of duty was to be one of importance. A mysterious section of two officers and twenty men were left behind to train for a raid on the Hun lines. The party was under the command of Lieutenant B. Peatfield, with Second Lieutenant G. E. Thompson as his second in command. The raid was of considerable importance as information of the exact disposition of the enemy was urgently required at General Headquarters in order to ascertain which German Divisions had been withdrawn from the heavy fighting on the Somme. The raiding party were trained over a facsimile of the actual ground over which they were to raid which had been dug near Divisional Headquarters. When the party arrived at the trenches on the 10th of September, excitement in the Battalion ran high. The raiders, all of whom were volunteers, were located in a small dug-out in the Paris Redoubt, and made preparations for the show. Unfortunately Private Rule, “B” Company, one of the party, was killed by a trench mortar shell that afternoon, but undaunted the remainder looked forward to the adventure. The raid was to be launched from the Paris Redoubt on the night of the 11th September, and was to be supported by covering fire from our trench mortars and machine guns while the artillery assisted the operation with a heavy local “box” barrage. Early in the evening all the officers concerned in the raid gathered together at Battalion Headquarters in the Elbe, and final instructions were issued, and watches were synchronised. Just as this party came out of the dug-out a salvo of shells arrived and caused great consternation, but no casualties occurred. That evening all sap guards were strengthened, and in the middle of the night every one “stood to,” when suddenly the barrage from our lines burst forth with a terrific crash, and the raiding party with its blackened faces sallied forth. No one but those who actually took part in the raid can describe the inferno which reigned for the next few minutes. The Hun soon sent up his S.O.S. signals and retaliatory fire opened up, but most of this fell in the “D” Company area on the left flank of the operation, where two lamps had been specially erected to mislead the enemy as to the actual part of the line from which the raid had started. Shortly afterwards the success of the raid was wired to all companies, and a sense of relief overwhelmed the Battalion. Apparently our fellows had followed closely to the creeping barrage of our trench mortars and had entered the Hun trench, killing or wounding the occupants, and bringing back a few prisoners. Luckily none of our men were killed although wounds were numerous among the raiders, and unfortunately Private J. F. Small of “B” Company succumbed later to his severe injuries. Both officers had been badly wounded but stuck to their job, and inspired the men by their example. Second Lieutenant G. E. Thompson, together with Private A. Small, returning to the Hun trench to rescue the latter’s brother who was found to be missing at the first roll call.

Valuable information had been obtained, and only the death of Private J. F. Small, who had been so gallantly rescued, marred the operation. Credit must be given to the artillery, machine gunners, and trench mortar batteries who so ably assisted in making the raid a success.

The raid placed the Battalion on a high footing, and great credit is due to all concerned.

On the 25th of September, the Battalion was relieved, and although nothing of importance happened after the raid, for many nights afterwards we expected a return visit from the enemy.

The return to Bray was accompanied by the usual luxuries of baths at Maroeuil, the concerts at Acq, and the refreshments of the local estaminets. On the 26th, ribbons were presented by the Divisional General to those members of the raiding party who had escaped unwounded; while on the following day the Corps Commander, Lieutenant-General Sir Charles Fergusson, K.C.B., inspected the Battalion. A few days afterwards, on the 30th September, orders to return to the line were received, and the march was accomplished without loss, although the enemy artillery was active on the roads leading up to the trenches. Nearing the line a great activity on the part of the enemy machine gunners and snipers was noticed, and it was learnt that during the night the Germans had exploded two large mines on our front near the Claudot Sap. The London Scottish were holding that sector of the line that night, and it is to their great credit that the Hun made no inroads on our front. How great a fight they had made was best judged from the heavy casualties they had sustained. “D” Company of the 2/15th relieved this part of the front, and by dint of hard digging under considerable fire soon consolidated the new craters, and linked them up by saps with the observation line. Days of comparative quiet ensued, although at this time the enemy commenced to use large trench mortar shells standing some thirty-six inches high, with a diameter of ten or twelve inches. As a retaliation for this unwelcome increase in the size of missiles a deep emplacement was made in rear of “D” company’s sector in the Bessan Redoubt, and in it was placed a very heavy type of British Trench Mortar, having a projectile of similar proportions to those introduced by the Bosche. This shell was nicknamed the “Flying Pig,” and to fire it was only an experiment, so all the men in the trenches in advance of the emplacement were temporarily withdrawn lest the shell should accidentally fall short. The test was successful, and large craters about ten feet deep, and twenty yards wide were made in the Hun lines. However, the experiment was not taken by the Hun in the right spirit, and retaliation on his part for the next few days was very brisk. A strafe of shells from guns and minenwerfers of all calibres was poured on to the unoffending infantrymen’s heads. Dug-outs were blown up, but the resultant casualties were small. “D” Company’s headquarters dug-out was destroyed, and the signallers were entombed, but several hours work got them out, and they were rescued little the worse for their experience.

After these few days of continual bombardment a sigh of relief was breathed when the Canadian Division much depleted in numbers through heavy fighting on the Somme, marched up to take over the trenches at Neuville St. Vaast, and the Battalion left this sector for the last time.

Rumours of transferring our activities to the Somme were soon afoot, and after a few days rest at Bray, the Battalion made tracks for the Abbeville area via Hermaville, Frevent, Auxi-le-Château, and Beauvoir Rivière. Each night billets were arranged in the villages en route, and pleasant evenings in the local estaminets were spent after the day’s march. The weather was only moderate but the Battalion was well seasoned by now, and cared little for the discomfort of the trek after its long stay in the trenches. The Battalion finally halted at Francière a few kilometres south of Abbeville, and leave to England was granted to a privileged few. Preparations for a journey to the East were made, and these soon dispelled all rumours of fighting on the Somme.

On the morning of the 15th of November, the Battalion marched to Longpres and entrained on the familiar “8 Chevaux et 40 Hommes” troop train bound for Marseilles, leaving Longpres at 4.0 p.m. The journey to the south of France was most enjoyable, and the route taken was via Montreau, Dijon, Macon, Pierre Latte to Marseilles. At each of these places a halt was made when rations for the next stage of the journey were drawn, and hot tea prepared by permanent staffs stationed on the route was issued. Although halts sometimes were made in the middle of the night, most men were lured from their uncomfortable beds in spite of the cold nights to drink the hot tea.

The weather though cold was bright, and while daylight lasted everyone drank in the beauty of the French scenery, especially while passing along the valley of the Rhone, with its wonderful river scenes and terraced vineyards, which clothed the rugged slopes of the valley. Marseilles was reached on the 17th of November, after a journey of just over two days, and the Battalion marched to the Rest Camp on the western outskirts of the city. Here it poured constantly, and the whole camp was a veritable quagmire; fortunately the stay was a short one, for on the 19th November, 1916, half the Battalion marched to the Docks, and boarded the Transylvania, one of the large Transatlantic liners, at 11.0 a.m., bound for Salonica, while the other half followed in the Megantic, a week later.

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Chapter XXIX

THE VOYAGE TO SALONICA--MALTA--SALONICA, 30TH NOVEMBER, 1916--JOURNEY TO KATERINA--OUTPOSTS AT STIPI.

H.M. Troopship Transylvania, which was unfortunately sunk by torpedo a few weeks later, set sail from Marseilles at midnight on the 19th November. A rough sea was encountered, and it was afterwards learnt that a tidal wave had swept over the harbour that night, destroying a great amount of shipping. The next day all was calm, and the officers and men of the Battalion became accustomed to their new surroundings, and acquainted with the interior of this huge vessel. Boat drill was the novelty, but even this soon became a “bore,” and after the first few parades everybody looked upon the compulsory life-belt attached to one’s body as a millstone, rather than the reverse. On the 20th, the islands of Corsica and Sardinia were passed about 4 p.m., and on the following day the vessel steamed along the north coast of Africa. During these days the calm Mediterranean lulled all into a sense of peace and security, and only when the three blasts of the ship’s syren disturbed the quietness and everyone bustled to their boat stations did one realise the possibility of enemy submarines spoiling the trip. It is said that R.S.M. Freemantle gained a handsome monetary reward for spotting a submarine, but the fact that only the R.S.M. saw it causes doubts in many minds. Regardless of any submarine reported to have been seen by the R.S.M., the Transylvania was ordered by its escort of torpedo boat destroyers to put into St. Paul’s Bay, Malta, on the morning of the 22nd November, and about midday on the 24th, the liner proceeded into the harbour of Valetta. This harbour is one of the most wonderful in the world, and has a very narrow, heavily fortified entrance leading from the outer bay to the inner harbour, which was full of shipping, while men-o’-war of all classes were constantly passing in and out. The town itself is on the high ground around, and was glistening white under the hot sun of the Mediterranean, which poured down its rays from a cloudless blue sky. During the night of the 24th, a slight mishap occurred to the Transylvania and she broke from her moorings, but the Battalion slept on under the protection of the submarine-forbidden harbour, unaware of any possible disaster. It was not until the 27th that the word to proceed was given by the Naval authorities, and a few days’ stay at Valetta had been thoroughly enjoyed by those members of the Battalion (officers and N.C.O.’s only, I am afraid), who were permitted ashore. A route march through the town had been arranged for the troops, but unfortunately this had to be cancelled on the receipt of orders to sail.

The journey was continued from Malta without event, and on the 29th November we passed the islands of the Greek Archipelago, the names of which were always in dispute and finally were dubbed with nicknames such as Enos, Kolynos, Thermos, Chaos, and so on. When nearing Salonica several hospital ships, which had been ruthlessly torpedoed, were just visible above the water where they had been beached. The next day, the 30th, the harbour of Salonica was reached, and the Battalion disembarked on the quay during the morning. From the harbour the town of Salonica looked very fine, and extends from the green slopes of the hills on the east along a flat stretch of some five miles to the low dismal country at the foot of the Greek mountains. The town is dotted with mosques and oriental churches, and the famous White Tower on the promenade forms a striking contrast to the low shops and hotels which line the harbour front. However, all this apparent beauty was soon dispelled, and the mud and smell of even the main thoroughfares was simply indescribable. On the quayside hundreds of troops, French, Serbians, Russians and Greeks, were shouting and making the harbour a babel of foreign tongues. The route taken by the Battalion lay through the western end of the town, and the curious shops with their gaily-dressed, though ragged, merchants caused much comment among the troops. Slow, lumbering oxen wagons formed the local method of transport, and these, intermixed with the heavy army motor lorries, caused considerable congestion. After the jumble of traffic through streets a foot deep in mud and filth, the Battalion was relieved to strike the main high road for Dudular. All along this road were signs of military activity; ordnance stores, A.S.C. dumps, motor lorry parks, and ammunition depots lined the route, and a few miles from the town the Battalion passed two extensive canvas general hospitals. Through this military city, which had sprung up with mushroom-like growth during the war, a railway had been built, and it struck one as being extremely humorous to see a green engine with L.S.W.R. in golden letters on its side puffing along under the control of the R.E. drivers. What visions of Waterloo and leave trains! This line was continued as far as Monastir, and troop trains of French and Serbians constantly passed up and down. The camp was finally reached after a march of about eight miles, and was situated on barren, desolate ground, which extended from a chain of hills to the marshes along the Salonica-Monastir Road. On this plain the whole Division was concentrated under a huge canvas camp. The ground was rough, uneven, stony and cut by numerous “nullahs.” Every one pitched his tent wherever the geographical and geological conditions permitted, and it is regretted that the beautiful straight lines of tents that distinguished our camp at Saffron Walden were no longer to be seen. Natives wandered around the camp and were promptly dubbed “hoojahs,” a word which was attached to all things Greek for want of a better descriptive word. These natives presumably desired to sell their fruits and wares, but judging by their mixed uniform of khaki and native garb it was doubtful whether “scroungeing” was not their real intention. On the few more level spots that were available football commenced, and for the first few days life was enjoyable. Letters were again allowed, and in spite of drills and parades it was a most restful time by day. Night time, however, was disturbed by the inroads upon the tired flesh of the troops by numerous “minor horrors of war,” which had been encouraged to life by the blankets and conditions generally on board the transport ship. Changes of underclothes were issued and washing in the muddy streams somewhat arrested the unpleasantness. This period was a particularly busy one for the Quartermaster’s Stores, and stores and equipment peculiar to the East were issued, among which were bivouac sheets. Each man having been presented, gratis by the thoughtful authorities, with a small khaki canvas sheet about a yard square, together with a pole 2 feet 6 inches long, two tent pegs and a piece of stout cord, bivouac parades were instituted. The erection of a bivouac was not an easy matter on such stony ground, and even when erected (sometimes by the aid of bayonets and entrenching tools, the use of which was soon forbidden) the open end provided little comfort from the cold winds which blew from the hills at night. To add to this discomfort, heavy torrential rains poured down on the 8th December, and bivouacs fell down on their occupants during the night with alarming rapidity, even the bell tents which remained were rooted from their moorings, and an unpleasant night was spent. The ground soon became a quagmire, and in the nullahs streams of brown, muddy water rushed along. The colour of the water used for cooking and making tea was of the same delightful solidity, and there was little difference between the tea before and after brewing. However, the weather improved slightly, and the next item of interest was the arrival of over 100 mules for the transport section, “straight from the nest” as it were, and with no decorous idea of military discipline. The Quartermaster’s Stores was full of pack saddlery absolutely new, slippery and unpliable, and the following day “Bill Bailey’s Circus” was in full swing. The transport section, under Second Lieutenant F. T. Bailey, was supplemented by fatigue parties from the Battalion, until each mule had nearly a dozen attendants, all of whom were absolutely necessary. The mules were then dressed in their new kit by the untiring energies of the transport section and their co-opted fatigues and paraded for the Commanding Officer’s inspection. This, however, did not last for many minutes; objections were raised, not forgetting the hind legs, by the four-footed members of the transport, and “saddles reversed” was soon performed. It was infectious, and half the animals soon left the arena with kits incomplete, or at least in quite the wrong places on their bodies. Finally the parade, or rather what was left, was dismissed, and then followed the counting of the mules, several of which had escaped. This, however, did not disturb the Transport Officer, he calmly remarking, “They will turn up at feeding time.” The next morning a recount was made, and apparently the mules had decided with which Regiment in the Brigade they would be billeted. Exchanges were made and, needless to say, the receiver was never the chooser. On the following day, after another wet night when the mule lines had become a horrible mixture of muddy transport men, mules and saddlery, the Battalion, complete with transport, was ordered to parade for a route march, apparently not so much for the benefit of the troops, but as a test for the endurance of “Bill Bailey’s Circus.” The mules were “dressed up” and the saddles loaded with panniers, etc., and after a considerable delay the Battalion started along the road. A few paces was sufficient to bring about a debacle in the column; packs slipped, and the men were detailed to fall out and reload the mules. Every yard of the route was strewn with loads of all descriptions, many of which had, no doubt, been unevenly weighted. The plain was dotted with muleteers chasing after mutinous mules which had dispensed with their encumbrances and taken flight. How many mules finished the march is not recorded, but sufficient to say the march proved amusing if nothing else. The next few days were spent in scraping mud and salving blankets, waterproof sheets, equipment and saddlery, which had been mislaid in the mud that followed the heavy rain each night. On the Sunday, 10th December, a Brigade route march was ordered, and we were inspected by our new Brigadier, General F. M. Edwards, C.M.G., who had taken the place of Brigadier-General Baird, who had remained in France.

The same afternoon secret orders were received, and by midnight the Battalion, less its transport, was marching to Salonica Docks. After a few hours’ wait on the quayside, the Battalion embarked on board H.M. torpedo boat destroyer Mosquito, and set sail for somewhere in Greece. Accommodation was very limited, and the black smoke from the funnels of the boat soon covered every one with soot. The officers and crew of the destroyer did all in their power to secure the maximum amount of comfort for the troops, and the whole of the Battalion officers were given an excellent breakfast in the small ward room. During the afternoon the Greek coast was approached, and in the distance we could see the snow clad peaks of the Olympus group. The destroyer anchored a few hundred yards from land, and parties of the Battalion were sent ashore in the small boats. Great credit is due to the Naval folk for their handling of these boats, and, with the exception of a few hasty members who jumped ashore out of the boats too soon, no mishap occurred, and with a cheer from both arms of the Service the destroyer left for sea. The Battalion lined up on the beach at a place called Scala Vromeris. The weather was glorious and the wet clothes of the unfortunates were soon dried. Small fires were made on the beach and a frugal meal was partaken. Scala Vromeris consisted of a few wooden huts, and apparently was the “port,” or rather the landing place, of the town of Katerina, which lay a few miles inland. Only a few Greeks were in occupation, and a large party of Maltese, working under some French soldiers, were housed in the small huts. Orders were received to march inland, leaving a rear party of about 50 men to await the arrival of stores from Salonica. The march was along a genuine “Greek” road, the chief constituents of which were mud, holes, ruts and large stones, but the route was without steep gradients, and the town of Katerina was reached early in the evening. This was a typical Grecian country town, and the natives thronged the streets half in fear and half in jubilation on the arrival of the troops. On the further side of the town was a large Turkish barracks, and here the Battalion was billeted. Men soon made purchases at the shops of very inferior tasteless cigarettes, but nuts and fruit were of excellent quality, though the prices were somewhat exorbitant. A party of officers found their way into a “café,” but when one realises that the plates were returned three times to the washer-up before they could be accepted for eating purposes, the quality of this “café” can be better appreciated. Like the rest of the town and its people it was extremely filthy.

The next day was spent in cleaning up the barracks, which afterwards reached a state of comparative comfort in spite of the broken windows and damaged floors. The day was peaceful enough, but when the day’s rations of bully beef and biscuits had been eaten every one wondered where the next meal was coming from. Neither the stores from Scala Vromeris nor the Battalion transport had yet arrived. The town itself had been practically exhausted of its eatables, and finally the question was settled by means of “local purchase.” A flock of sheep was bought by the Brigade, and mutton was issued to the men, but even fresh killed mutton stewed in mess-tins does not make a very substantial day’s feed for hungry troops. The Battalion, however, managed to “scrounge,” and a few additions were obtained privately from a French Quartermaster’s stores located in one part of the barracks, and these helped to eke out the meagre rations. It was a couple of days afterwards before the Battalion transport, which had taken an overland route from Salonica, arrived, and stores also arrived from the shore, though in the meantime it had been necessary to eat our “iron rations.” Both the transport and the stores’ escort had their special adventures.

At Salonica the Battalion stores had been loaded on flat lighters, which had proceeded to Scala Vromeris in tow of tugs. Heavy seas were encountered and many of the lighters broke loose and some drifted back to Salonica, while others, with half their cargo washed overboard, fought their way to Scala Vromeris. Those that landed back at Salonica proceeded under better conditions a day or so later, and on arrival were soon unloaded by the fatigue party we had left on the sea-shore. Much, however, was lost at sea, including officers’ valises, mess boxes, cooks’ gear, spare saddlery, Lewis gun panniers, ammunition, blankets, etc., but what remained was carted from the shore to Katerina by the aid of local ox-waggons, which lumbered along at a snail’s pace.

The Battalion transport, which had travelled overland from Dudular Camp near Salonica, left there the same evening as the Battalion, and had been brigaded with the transport of the other units in the 179th Brigade, and had been escorted on the route by mounted troops. The journey was not a happy one, and they had only moved at night for purposes of secrecy. This fact alone made travelling difficult, but the wet weather multiplied their troubles threefold. The roads were heavy and badly made, mere tracks across waste land, and maps were indistinct and even incorrect. Many of these tracks were built up above the level of the surrounding country, and so heavy were the floods that the water covered these roadways, and frequently pairs of mules were struggling in the water at the roadside sometimes five feet deep. When the catastrophes happened there was nothing to be done but to cut off the load and give it a watery grave; no attempt to salve them was possible or even desirable in the darkness. On one of these occasions, when mules and muleteer were thrown into the deeper water, an artillery officer, at great personal risk, dived in and saved the mule driver’s life, and Private Phillips, of our own transport section, was highly commended for his assistance, while the officer later received the Silver Medal of the Royal Humane Society for saving life. However, all is well that ends well, and the various parties of the Battalion which had set out from Salonica by different routes reunited at Katerina, but as a result of their respective adventures huge deficiency lists were prepared. For the next week the whole Battalion was employed on road making, and other Battalions assisted the R.E. parties to repair the embankment of the coastal railway from Salonica to Lharrisa, which had been washed away in many places. It was not long afterwards that the deserted railway station we had passed on the way from the coast became a centre of activity. Ration trains arrived daily from Salonica, and a large dump of stores and ammunition was formed at Katerina Station. The Army Service Corps and Royal Engineers did great work, and soon rations, letters, and stores appeared with unfailing regularity from the Base. The Brigade soon established itself comfortably at Katerina, and even the local residents appreciated the situation and replenished their stores with foodstuffs, wines and cigarettes.

A word must also be said in praise of the N.C.O.’s and men of the French contingent in this area. They did all they could to welcome the Britishers, and dinner parties were held nightly in the Turkish barracks in our honour, probably to the detriment of the French ration supply, but that was beside the point; “a short life and a gay one” was their motto. After dinner, songs in English and French were sung, toasts were drunk and friendships made. These convivial evenings will live long in the minds of those who participated.

On the 20th December, 1916, the Battalion marched out to Stipi, a few miles south of Katerina, to take over an outpost line which had been held by the Queen’s Westminsters since our arrival in this part of Greece. The march was over rough country, and the additional kit in the shape of bivouac sheets, waterproofs, blankets, winter clothing and cardigans, extra bandoliers of ammunition fairly broke the backs of the men.

“A,” “C” and “D” Companies relieved the outpost line, and “B” Company, with Headquarters, Transport, and Quartermaster’s Stores were kept in reserve. The outpost line was along the low ridge of hills which ran from Stipi to Kundariotisa, and strict orders were issued that no movement on the skyline should be made by day. Bivouac camps were therefore erected on the reverse or northern slopes which ran down to the grassy valley of the River Mavourneri. From the southern slopes of this ridge the panorama was wonderful, a flat stretch of country for some twenty miles could be seen in the direction of Lharrisa, so that observation from the defences was perfect. On the further side of the plain rose the gigantic chain of snow-capped peaks, of which Mount Olympus formed a massive centrepiece. This mountain wall cut off the Katerina area from the rest of Southern Greece. Only by way of the narrow seashore plain and through the famous Petras Pass on the west of Katerina could the south be reached. At this time the attitude of Greece towards the Allies was questionable, and the position taken up by the Brigade was to secure the base at Salonica from any attack that might have been made from the south.

The Battalion employed itself now in commencing to dig a defensive line on the southern slopes of the ridge, and trench-digging in this part of the world was extremely laborious, as the ground was practically solid rock.

Barbed wire was not obtainable, and for the purpose of obstacles thick zarebas of short, stiff, prickly thorn bushes which covered the hill-side were used for entanglements. In our spare time football was played, and platoon and company competitions were soon in full swing. A splendid flat field had been cleared near the river bank, and was the scene of many exciting struggles. Christmas was approaching, and funds were collected for additional luxuries. The canteen opened by Brigade at Katerina was insufficient to supply the extra needs for the festive season, and Lieutenant Andrew and an able assistant were sent to Salonica by rail, where a Base Canteen was successfully attacked, and on Christmas Eve large supplies of Christmas goods arrived; not so much in quantity as we should have liked, but considering the difficulties of transport, Lieutenant Andrew was to be congratulated. Chicken and eggs were purchased from the local villages of Stipi and Kundariotisa, and altogether a happy Christmas was spent in the bivouacs. Christmas decorations were numerous and consisted chiefly of grey-back shirts and underclothing which had become unpleasant to wear and decked the surrounding thorn bushes.

The festival of Christmas was celebrated by the local residents, and I had the pleasure of accompanying the Commanding Officer to the village of Stipi, where the chief man of the village bade us enter his house. Here we were ushered into the best room and seated on mats on the floor while the daughters of the house, in gay dresses, waited upon us, bringing in coffee, aniseed liqueur and apple jelly as refreshments. Conversation was carried on through the medium of the heir to the house, who had picked up a smattering of French in Salonica, where he was employed.

For the men sing-songs were arranged and sports were held, but the festivities of Christmas soon ceased, and the work on the trenches was resumed. New Year celebrations were limited to an excellent concert given in the Turkish barracks at Katerina by the French soldiers, and those who were privileged to attend thoroughly enjoyed their efforts.

The weather continued fairly fine, though spells of heavy rain, and sometimes snow, fell, making life in small canvas “bivvies” rather miserable. The Battalion remained on this outpost line for just over six weeks, during which time a strong defensive line facing Lharrisa had been built, and this was continued to the coast on the left flank by a series of strong points built and manned by the Westminsters. Road making and bridge building were carried on by the reserve Company, and I am sure the local Greeks must have appreciated our efforts, which resulted in the many military roads connecting Katerina with the surrounding villages. Occasionally field days were held by the Brigade, the rendezvous always being the Tumulus, which was an ever-present landmark for miles around our position. Kit inspections were frequent, and the losses of equipment, etc., resulting from our journey from Salonica led to lengthy sittings of a Board of Enquiry, and consequently many entries were made in pay books for loss of kit. In our spare time we played football after the day’s work, and keen competitions between platoons and companies resulted. Matches were arranged with the other Regiments in the Brigade, in which the Civil Service came through with considerable credit. For the benefit of officers a riding class, under the Medical Officer, Dr. J. W. Leech (John Willie to all his friends) was instituted, and the quality of riding in the Battalion greatly improved. While referring to John Willie’s equestrian ability, one must not overlook his medical skill. His sick parade each morning was divided into two classes; one from the Battalion and the other from the local villages, which brought their sick for attention. Frequently the Doctor was called out to a village to attend an invalid, and among the natives his skill was considered wonderful; not that I infer the Battalion did not appreciate his efforts, for his droll manner and Irish humour were characteristics we all loved, and his attention to all ranks was without fault. The only difference was that the natives presented him with fowls, fruit and small gifts, whereas the unfortunate recipient of a No. 9 offered his thanks in words alone. When a man was beyond the curative powers of a No. 9 or its brother pills he was transferred to the Field Ambulance, which had been established at Katerina. The country around was rough, and was only traversed by mule tracks, so that it was impossible to bring motor ambulances up as far as the Regimental Aid Post. The lying cases were, therefore, taken to hospital by means of a strange vehicle drawn by a mule. This vehicle simply consisted of two long poles some twenty feet in length which were attached to the mule after the manner of shafts, while the ends dragged on the ground behind the mule. These two poles were secured to each other in rear of the mule, and the stretcher was fixed resting between the poles, so that the patient’s head was higher than his feet. Whether this was a comfortable means of transit must be left to the judgment of the victims, but undoubtedly it was the most suitable means in those parts.

No mention hitherto has been made of “Peter,” who was appointed Battalion interpreter. He was an undersized Greek, who loved the Regiment, and no doubt worked very hard in the “Grecian way,” and although no one understood his parleys with the local natives when we wished to dig up their land for trenches, it is believed that he coerced them by the authority given to him by the wearing of the Prince of Wales’s feather in his cap. He loved the Battalion better than his countrymen.

About the middle of February the Battalion left the outpost line at Stipi, and two Companies, “A” and “B” proceeded to Katerina barracks together with Headquarters Company, Transport, and Quartermaster’s Stores. The other two Companies, under the command of Major A. A. Oliver, moved to Kolukuri, a few miles west of Katerina, and erected their bivouacs in Shrine Woods. Here a flank defensive line was held by night posts. From the 15th of February until the 28th the Battalion remained in these stations, and the only excitement which broke the monotony of the life was the visit of a strange aeroplane, which flew over the square at Katerina barracks. No one understood its mission and gazed at it curiously, for underneath its wings were two large blue crosses and not the black Maltese cross used on German aeroplanes. After it had taken note of everything it flew away; no one fired at it, and no one to this day knows the meaning of this “mystery” plane. Orders from Brigade to fire at it came later on, but by that time the plane was well out of the range of our field guns.

On the 28th of February the Battalion concentrated on the main road near Kolukuri on the way to the Petras Pass and proceeded up towards the Pass, where a strong defensive position had been held since our arrival in December by the London Scottish. The Battalion halted at Kalivia Miljas for the night, and the most unpleasant night it proved to be with the heavy rains. The following day orders were received to return to Katerina, and the Battalion marched back again as far as the banks of the River Mavourneri, just outside the town. In flood time the river is over a mile in width, but at other times it dwindles down to a fast stream only 40 to 50 feet wide. It was on the rough, dry sandy bed of the river that the whole Brigade was encamped, and here preparations for a long trek were made. The weather was fine, but the strong winds that blew and raised sandstorms made it an unpleasant resting place, and no one regretted the order to move, which was received on the 9th of March.

Before ending this chapter on our stay in Macedonia, the following letter, written from Greece, might prove interesting:--

“Macedonia is a lovely country, and the lack of reading matter a considerable hardship. It is a land of bare treeless valleys, strongly reminiscent of the Veldt and high snow-clad spurs of the Balkans. Of the people, the less said perhaps the better. St. Paul in old time was of the opinion that the Thessalonians were ‘lewd persons of the baser sort,’ or words to that effect, and my experience is that they have not improved by keeping in the interim. A motley mixture of Turks and Bulgars with a smattering of Greeks, they are undoubtedly picturesque in garb, more undoubtedly filthy in person and habits, and most undoubtedly the finest collection of thieves, brigands and cut-throats that could be brought together. When the brigandage business is slack, as at present, they apparently fill in their spare time as herdsmen and shepherds. We are employing considerable numbers in road making and the other day I heard the following: A party of Greeks came along towards our transport, and one bright youth on sighting them lifted up his voice to his chum, ‘Look out, Jack! Here comes Ali Baba and his forty ---- thieves.’

“The days are hot and the nights bitterly cold, while at times a terrifically strong and piercing wind, called the Vardar blast, blows from the Balkans. Taken altogether the majority of us heartily wish ourselves back in France.”

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XXX. LEAVING KATERINA--TREK TO THE DOIRAN FRONT--KARASULI NIGHT

On the 10th of March, 1917, reveille was at an early hour, and by eight o’clock in the morning the 179th Brigade had formed up in column of route together with the Artillery, Royal Engineers, Machine Gun Corps, and Army Service Corps detachments which had joined it since its arrival at Katerina in December, 1916. The whole town turned out to bid us farewell, and the local band played appropriate music in the market place. Flags decked the low-built houses of the town, and the people of Katerina were sorry to lose the Brigade which, during its short stay, poured thousands of “drachmas” into the town coffers, turning indolence and poverty into business and wealth. The French Commandant also did honour to the British troops and furnished a strong guard of honour, which gallantly stood at the “Present” while the Brigade passed by. The first day of the march was to a place called Tuzla, near the coast some ten miles north of Katerina, and although ten miles on a good English road is a small journey, the badly cut-up roads of Greece and the heavy kit the men were carrying made the journey appear to be twice its actual distance. Mules were loaded to their fullest capacity, and many loads slipped off, causing disorganisation on the march. Eventually, after about five hours’ marching, the Brigade reached the night’s bivouac area, where a terrific cold wind was blowing from the sea. However, “bivvies” were erected and a meal prepared, and every one retired for the night, wondering what the next day would bring.

Every one was astir early the following morning, and after an early breakfast the camp was packed up. Then the real fun of the day commenced; this was the loading of the mules. Although I have not yet described this performance in detail it might interest those who did not actually participate in the trek. Loads were arranged and specially lashed with strong ropes. The great art was to prepare loads in pairs, each of which was of equal weight. Of course, with such articles as blankets, Lewis gun panniers, ammunition boxes, where an equal number solved the difficulty it was an easy matter; but when it came to the question of cooks’ gear, pioneer tools, officers’ valises, and so on, it developed into a matter of either exceeding great skill or pure luck. Having thus made up two loads of equal weight and examined the mule’s girth, the muleteer would stand at the animal’s head and say nice things to it with a view of taking its attention from the loads. Two men would then stand on either flank of the beast and lift the loads, with the intention of hooking them on to the saddle by the rings attached to the lashing ropes. The loading on both sides had to be performed simultaneously, or otherwise the weight on one side only simply twisted the saddle under the mule, annoying the animal to such an extent that it would immediately kick out and break loose, dashing about with the load under its stomach. Such escapades on the part of the mules were all too frequent; the mules hated the loads, and to add to the difficulties of the performance commenced to dance a “tango” on the feet of the unfortunate fatigue men trying to persuade it to carry a couple of heavy side loads. Towards the end of this trek, however, the men became aware of this side-stepping by the mules, and eventually experts in each Company developed, and the balancing of the loads, the synchronisation of the hooking-on process, became matters of skill as the result of sad experience.

From Tuzla the line of march was to Livanovan, and as a contrast to the very cold wind of the previous day the sun poured down, and the journey of twelve miles was over the same badly-made roads, while steep gradients were also encountered. On the 12th of March the Brigade proceeded to Gida, a further distance of twelve miles. On arrival a flat piece of ground was found for the camp. On the march each man carried a few pieces of stick or wood from ration boxes, and at the end of the day’s march a supply of wood for fires was immediately ready on arrival in camp. During this trek great credit was due to the cooks, both in the companies and the officers’ messes, for the splendid way in which they immediately set to and prepared meals for their expectant clients at the end of the day’s march. I know that at Gida, Evison (“D” Company’s mess cook) and his batman pals had so trained themselves that on the arrival of their Company Officers from the men’s lines, after seeing the mules unloaded and the men settled down, a splendid meal of fried eggs and bacon, biscuits and butter, tea, and Welsh rarebit was spread on the mess table-cloth. (“D” Company always boasted of this cloth, regardless of its doubtful snowy whiteness at times.)

The next day, the 13th of March, was very trying owing to the great heat and the distance covered, just over 20 miles. A midday halt was made on that part of the road where the transport section had had such a disastrous time on their journey from Salonica in December, and the mule drivers regaled every one with the horrible details of their experiences. The roads were being improved near the town of Topscin by parties of Bulgar prisoners under French guards. As the column approached Topscin village the sounds of music greeted it. The town was in the hands of the French, and their band had turned out to welcome us. The “Marseillaise” and “God Save the King” were rendered alternately while the whole Brigade marched by.

Just after leaving Topscin we crossed the Vardar River, and a couple of miles beyond, the new camping ground was reached; but the rain which had then set in made the arrival miserable. It was then 6.0 p.m. and every one was dead-beat, but an issue of rum livened us up a little.

The following morning bivouacs were struck and the march resumed as far as Amantovo, a distance of 14 miles, and it was during this march that the first man of the Battalion fell out, and only the excessive heat caused him to faint, showing how splendidly he had stuck to it. The camp at Amantovo was on soft, grassy ground, and the pegs of our bivouacs were driven in with ease, a change after the stony nature of our previous camping grounds. The last part of the day’s march had been over grassy downs, and the beautiful weather made it enjoyable. To add to the happiness, however, there was a surprise in store; a ration of oranges was issued that night. The next day’s march was to be performed in two parts. The start was made about 8.0 a.m., and the route lay through pleasant valleys and over undulating grassland. A few miles from Amantovo the Battalion marched past the Commander-in-Chief of our forces in Salonica, General Sir G. F. Milne, K.C.B., and his staff. The General was greatly impressed with the fitness of the Battalion.

About midday a halt was called and cooking commenced. Plenty of water, duly chlorinated, of course, was drawn from the local streams. In the afternoon small card parties were made up in the Battalion, others slept, while others read novels; each man in some sections carried a small sevenpenny novel, and by exchanging there was plenty to read. Just ahead of the Battalion was a tumulus, and from this point it was said that the “line” could be seen, but of course it was forbidden ground. The progress of the Battalion having been thus barred, we settled down to a very pleasant, restful afternoon in the warm sunshine, little dreaming of the eccentricities of the Macedonian springtime.

At twilight the order was given to move off, and with darkness came rain, and such cold rain, too! The wind sprang up and the first few miles were spoilt by “concertina work” by the column, a most dreaded thing for infantrymen with a heavy kit. However, after the first halt the movement of the column settled down and became more tolerable; but accidents to the mules soon disorganised the column again and connection in the dark became difficult. The Battalion floundered on through mud and slush over what must have been ploughed land, I think. Mules now began to fall out with unfailing regularity and men were constantly detailed from the ranks to reload them, and a very straggling column resulted. No one seemed to be certain of the way over this strange country in the pitch darkness. No one appeared to have a watch, either, for no halts were called; certainly the ground was too thick in wet mud for halting purposes, but after three hours marching over such ground in pouring rain all infantrymen felt the strain. Onwards the Battalion struggled, mile after mile, through this awful morass of mud and the pelting rain. Every one longed for a halt, but this was not to be; not until the Battalion arrived on the outskirts of Karasuli did that precious whistle break the silence. Then every one just sat down in the middle of the road. The men had marched for six hours without a halt or even taking off their packs. Remarkable to relate, the number of men who fell out was practically nil; there were no estaminets here, and to fall out would mean a lonely night in the desolate wilds of northern Greece; and this was an unpleasant prospect. At Karasuli a fairly long halt was made and spirits revived, but being under enemy observation no smoking was allowed; this was the last straw, and the Hun and his Allies had curses heaped upon their heads that night, if ever. Rumour that the final halt was only a few hundred yards ahead helped to improve matters, but even this flicker of hope was damped by the heavy rain that constantly poured down. The whistle sounded again, and off the Battalion moved, though no one knows the route taken to this day. Brigade staff certainly did its utmost to sort out the mixed column of men, mules and transport of all regiments.

The country here was broken by deep gullies or “nullahs” along which the water rushed in torrents. For over an hour the Battalion staggered along over the broken ground, one moment stumbling down a steep rugged bank of a nullah, the next crawling on hands and knees up the slippery bank opposite, and frequently wading nearly waist deep in water. About 1.0 a.m. the Battalion halted. Rain had fallen for hours and the ground was churned up into a quagmire, but a halt, even in these surroundings, was welcome. Men threw off their packs and, in spite of their weariness and exhaustion, it was to be admired that all the mules, which had also struggled through this terrible journey, were immediately unloaded. Kits, rifles and mule loads had been thrown on the ground by the overwrought men, and some just lay down from sheer fatigue; others stood in the bitter cold and awaited the dawn. Some of the more energetic dared to put up their bivouacs, but soon gave up the idea of sleeping owing to the terrific cold wind that blew. Those who were able to move were issued with rum, but I am afraid that owing to the difficulties of the situation and the fact that many men had fallen into a delirious sleep it was unequally divided, and in the darkness it was difficult to discern whether a staggering man was the outcome of too much marching or too much rum. Towards dawn the downpour ceased a little, but the shivering troops, mud from head to foot, still stood in the withering clutches of the Vardar blast, and one man remarked, looking at the surrounding swamp, “Guess I’m standing in the Blasted Vardar, too!” Gradually daylight appeared, and what a scene--drenched men, cold, miserable, hungry and tired. The sick parade was extremely large that morning. Many had become so exhausted that they had laid down in the wet mud during the night and the next morning were, of course, physical wrecks; others had reached a state of delirium and wandered about bereft of their senses, and mention has already been made of the third group, the men who had “really” got the rum. The balance of the Battalion simply felt done up. However, all those who had not been sent to the field hospitals at Karasuli set to work and dragged from beneath the mud, rifles, equipment, bivouac sheets and remnants of the mules’ loads, and sorted them into dumps. The sun shone and life appeared possible, even if not desirable, in this wilderness of mud. About midday the Quartermaster’s Stores sent fatigue parties to an A.S.C. depôt a mile or so away, and fresh meat and rations were issued. Small fires were soon started and the old “gyppa” was on the boil. Every one looked forward to a nice hot meal, when orders for an immediate move were received. One can pass over this scene without expressing the views of the troops; it can well be imagined how pleasing it was to see the half-cooked “gyppa” poured away into the mud, as the cooks’ gear had to be packed on the mules at once.

Soon afterwards the clank of the entrenching-tool handle against the rifle butt and the rattle of the water bottle and other impedimenta associated with troops on the march was heard. The Battalion moved off with Platoons at intervals of 100 yards. The road from Karasuli was in good condition and had dried up under the warmth of the sun and the constant wind, but a mile or so from the camping ground to that main road was covered with deep nullahs and ravines. As we passed over it we wondered how the Battalion had ever marched over such ground the previous night. Once on the main road a decent step was taken and the troops felt the benefit of a good road, and made headway. However, the wind renewed its violence of the previous evening and blew into the face of the Battalion so that the benefit of the better road was soon nullified by the Vardar Blast. Clothing was still saturated with the rain of the night before, and the cold wind simply pierced us to the bones. Snow fell and added to the misery of things and soon the country-side was white; to say nothing of the Father Christmas-like appearance of the troops. When darkness came things really became difficult and the march developed into a hopeless plodding along, fighting against a biting cold head wind the whole while. For the first nine miles the route was along the main road, and the mules retained their loads with comparative ease, and not like the previous day’s march when they slipped and fell over on the treacherous muddy tracks.

So extreme was the cold that after each ten minutes halt it was with difficulty that men rose from the ground; most of them were frozen stiff. About 10.0 p.m. the head of the column was seen crossing the rough ground on the left of the main road. Hopes were raised, and if even a bivouac in the snow was an unpleasant prospect, the ending of the march was some consolation. Visions of a new camp were becoming plain, but when the Battalion followed this column across the rough ground for over an hour hopes were shattered.

From the roadway onwards men of all regiments in the Brigade lined the route; floundering over the rough ground after a stiff march had proved too much for even some of the stalwarts who had braved the night at Karasuli. Transport limbers and mules blocked the way, either stuck in the small nullahs that crossed the route or else the animals had become too exhausted to move. In fact, it was not an uncommon sight to see dead mules on the ground, having succumbed to the extreme cold, and when mules “gave up the ghost” it can be well judged how the men suffered. No one had any fear of being lost this night should he fall out; the route was well marked by deserted limbers, dead mules and fallen loads. About midnight the journey ended and the Brigade halted near the deserted farm buildings which were occupied by the Headquarters of the Brigade in the line. When the signal to halt was given every one just sat down exhausted, but the lesson of the previous night had been learnt, and little sleep was attempted. Small fires were lighted and mess tins were brought out and tea was made. “Scroungeing” parties went round and “won” blankets, tarpaulins, etc., from wherever possible, regardless of the Battalion or Company to which they belonged. Some officers, by dint of hard work, had even erected a bell tent, having a limber pole for its support. Whose tent and whose pole were never questioned. The night thus passed fairly quickly and every one made the best of a bad job. The snow had ceased, and it was, therefore, an improvement on the downpour twenty-four hours previously. As soon as daylight came every one was astir with the exception of the favoured few who had confiscated a pile of officers’ valises and rigged up a temporary shanty. However, their rest was soon disturbed and orders were given to “fall in.” The day was brighter and this cheered us a little. The Battalion soon marched off and soon sites were allotted to Companies in the deep nullahs or ravines about 500 yards from the deserted farm buildings. In the warmth of the sun, the sheltered positions in the ravines soon made us forget the discomfort of the night. The debris of the previous night was collected and every one enjoyed a hot meal which the cooks soon prepared. The afternoon was spent in rest and sleep.

However, war is war, and there is no rest for the wicked. The writer, together with another officer and some N.C.O.’s from each Company, were detailed to go up to the line for reconnaissance purposes that very afternoon. But even the darkest cloud has its silver lining, and after a trudge of four miles the party which had come over the skyline in twos and threes were welcomed by the Headquarters of the London Irish (2/18th London Regiment), and were soon detailed to Companies for the night. It was the 17th of March, and the London Irishmen who had been settled in the part of the line for some weeks celebrated their patron Saint’s day in the proper style, and the requisite canteen stores and drinks had been acquired. No one could have been more hospitable, and the wretched advance party which had left Kolonova that afternoon felt that the war was not so bad as it might have been. Perhaps it would not be out of place to mention here that one of the toasts drunk in the Company dug-out where the writer was so kindly entertained was “To our 1st Battalions, the 1st Civil Service Rifles and the 1st London Irish Rifles.” These Battalions were serving in France with the 47th Division and had curiously left England on St. Patrick’s Day in 1915. The 17th of March is “The day” in the history of our 1st Battalion, but it has its place in the history of the 2nd Battalion. It was the end of what is popularly known as the “Karasuli Trek.”

During the past week the Battalion had marched from Katerina, near Mount Olympus, to Kolonova, on the Doiran Front; a distance of about 100 miles had been covered in seven days. The march was over rough country the whole way. Extremes of weather had been encountered during these few days; from the hottest of Mediterranean suns at Livanovan to the wettest of oriental rains at Karasuli, and to the bleakest of blizzards and snowstorms that the Balkan Heights at Kolonova can produce. The man who was able to stick to his guns throughout this trek can well boast, and only the terrible experiences of the last two nights of the journey deprived many of the same boast.

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XXXI. ON THE DOIRAN-VARDAR FRONT--THE ADVANCE

A short description of the situation on the Doiran-Vardar sector of the Salonica Front will no doubt assist the reader to better realise the type of operations peculiar to this theatre of war. A few miles west of Lake Doiran was a mountainous ridge running north and south, about five or six miles long, known as “P” Ridge. This chain consisted of a series of five distinct peaks, the southern one, “Pip 5,” being about 800 feet high, while the remaining four progressively increased in altitude until “Pip 1” at the northern end reached the height of about 1,700 feet (or 535 metres); this was the famous “535” which dominated the country for many miles around, in fact on a clear day the peak could be distinctly seen from the hills at Dudular near Salonica, some 60 miles away. The Bulgar held practically all this ridge of the “Pips” except at the lowest part at the south, where the British had gained a footing. The Bulgar was strongly entrenched on all the slopes of the ridge, and each peak was an almost impregnable fortress in itself.

From the northern end the enemy lines ran due west along a mountainous chain some 1,000 to 1,200 feet high through the town of Devedzili, thence south of Paljorca to Pobreg. Just east of Pobreg the line ran due south for some six miles along another ridge of hills about 600 to 700 feet high which terminated at the “Nose,” a fortified stronghold on the borders of Serbia and Greece. From the “Nose” the enemy trenches were situated on the hills just north of Macukova, finally having the right flank on the banks of the Vardar at a point some four miles from the “Nose.”

The British line ran from the southern extremity of the “P” ridge in a south-westerly direction to the village of Bekerli, from which point it ran practically due west to the Vardar, where our lines were only about 1½ miles from the enemy trenches. The whole of the British line was on the low hills just north of the Cidemli Dere, a valley through which a small stream of about 20 feet in width bubbled along.

South of this stream the reserve British positions were situated on the chain of the Kolonovan Heights (500 feet) which ran along north of Ardzan, Smol and Karasuli. It will therefore be seen that only on our flanks were we in close touch with the enemy; on the left flank near the Vardar for about four miles east of the river banks as far as Reselli opposite the “Nose” where the enemy line turned north, and on the right flank at the foot of the “P” ridge at its southern extremities south of the village of Krastali. Even at these points the lines were at least a mile apart. The remainder of “No Man’s Land” consisted of a plain through which the ravine of the Selemli Dere formed a definite line between the opposing parties. From this ravine the ground was fairly flat for about 500 yards on each bank, but it soon developed into a land of hillocks some hundred feet above the level of the Selemli Dere plain, forming the foot-hills up to the higher ground held by the two armies. In this part of “No Man’s Land” were dotted the deserted villages of Dautli, Selemli and Sejdelli. The enemy had taken up a strong defensive line on the high ground which overlooked the whole of the lesser hills on the southern side of the Selemli plain, and his observation on our movements was therefore good. Any movement by day on our part was restricted, and from the commanding position of “P” ridge he could practically look into our trenches which had been constructed on the forward slopes of the small hills north of the Kolonovan Heights. In daytime these trenches were therefore only held by a sentry group, while the remainder of the garrison retired to the small bivouac camps which had been dug in on the reverse slopes.

By reference to the sketch map at the commencement of this chapter it will be seen that no further advance on our part was possible beyond the Bekerli Village Line, for from “Pip I” the Bulgars could enfilade any camps that were pushed forward. Not until the whole of the “Pip” ridge was gained could any advance on the Vardar section be made.

The British Army had therefore to sit content on the line of low hills, each of which was made into a strong point held by a garrison at night and a sentry group by day. The whole front was strongly wired and the ground or dip between these hills held by a Lewis gun post, or sometimes a Vickers machine-gun section. The wire had been cunningly arranged so that all these re-entrants formed “culs de sac” into which heavy machine-gun fire could be poured by the defenders.

During daytime no one disputed “No Man’s Land,” but at night time strong patrols were sent out by both sides to obtain the mastery, and prevent raids or surprise attacks on the defensive lines that were held. Across the centre of “No Man’s Land” was a line of large white stone pillars at regular intervals, representing the frontier between Greece and Serbia; an interesting fact, though, of course, having no bearing on the actual operations in this part of the world.

The British transport lines and ration dumps were behind the cover of the Kolonovan Heights which ran parallel with the main Karasuli-Kilindir Road which made communication along the rear of our positions comparatively easy. From the transport up to the line the journey was done at night time, except in the case of individual runners, or perhaps two or three men in a party, but so keen was the observation of the Bulgar that even these small parties attracted the unpleasant attention of a “pip-squeak” gun which had the tracks over the ridge “taped” to a nicety.

On the 19th of March, 1917, the Battalion marched up to the line from its bivouacs at Kolonova and took over from the 2/18th London Regiment (London Irish). All reliefs were carried out by night and under cover of darkness the Battalion left its sheltered camp, by Platoons at intervals. Every one had been ordered to maintain silence and no smoking was allowed. All the average man knew was the fact that somewhere over the ridge at Kolonova was the line, how far or how near he was never told, and the order for strict silence on the march led him to believe that the enemy was fairly close to hand, although in point of fact the Bulgar was comfortably settled in the dug-outs of his mountain stronghold at least five miles ahead. Knowing this fact the following incident on the march will be appreciated. A nervous private recently joined approached his Platoon Commander with a whisper, “Don’t you think that officer on horseback ought to cover his luminous wrist watch?” True, Major Oliver was in charge of the Battalion canteen, and probably had first choice of the luminous Ingersolls that occasionally came our way, but even the most luminous are not guaranteed to dazzle the eyes at a distance of five miles. However, such was the keenness of this rifleman to save his platoon from a strafe by the enemy artillery.

For a whole month the Battalion held the line from Waggon Hill, just east of Reselli village, to the village of Bekerli. On our left was a battalion of the 180th Infantry Brigade, while our neighbour on the right was the Queen’s Westminster Rifles of our own Brigade. The Battalion front consisted of Waggon Hill, which overlooked the Selemli Plain and the village of Sejdelli in front, while the ground on the left flank was low and formed a branch of the Selemli Ravine, and made a dangerous entrance to the rear of our positions just opposite the “Nose.” “D” Company occupied this hill, with “B” Company in immediate support in the valley of the Cidemli Dere. The right of the Battalion front was on the high ground near the ruined village of Bekerli, and formed the angle from which the British line ran north-east through Bastion Hill, Bowls Barrow, Whaleback, Horse Shoe Hill to the foot of “Pip 5” on the “P” ridge. “A” Company was responsible for the Bekerli defences, with “C” Company in immediate reserve, while Battalion Headquarters were farther back at Bekerli Ford, on the Cidemli Dere. As previously stated, movement was restricted during the daytime, which was spent in sleep, writing letters and card playing, leavened, of course, by fatigues and working parties for the improvements of dug-outs and similar work which could be undertaken by day under cover of the hills. No movement was allowed beyond an occasional runner to the support Companies or Battalion Headquarters. At night time, however, work commenced. The trenches were strongly garrisoned, and sentry groups were posted along the wire, while still farther out in “No Man’s Land,” about 500 yards from the wire, standing patrols of an N.C.O. and 20 men were posted in order to prevent the enemy from approaching our lines in force.

The support companies furnished large carrying parties to bring up rations, letters and the Balkan News, a newspaper specially printed in Salonica for British troops; all of which arrived from the Quartermaster’s stores at Kulonova, about one hour after dark. They also provided working parties to improve the trenches, which for the most part had been blasted from solid rock. Communication trenches were also made up to the forward companies, care being taken to conceal them in the numerous shallow dips in the ground as any sign of digging was sure to be strafed the next day. All earth had to be removed, as the smallest heap of soil above the level of the ground was looked upon by the Bulgar as the commencement of a new gun emplacement and consequently bombarded. There is no doubt that the Bulgar took every advantage of his higher position, and his observers were very keen, and this together with the wonderful accuracy of his guns made us very careful to conceal all signs of digging.

The support companies also furnished an officer’s patrol each night of about 24 men strong. These fighting patrols had orders to approach the enemy’s wire on the other side of the plain. How different from the patrols of three or four men on the Neuville St. Vaast front in France, where movement was very restricted. On the Doiran front it became a nocturnal route march. A few points were sent ahead and the main body followed en bloc. Although instructions were issued to reach the enemy’s wire it was rarely accomplished; Bulgar patrols were always wandering about on the plain at night. In the area allotted to our Battalion for patrol work were the two villages of Dautli and Selemli, which were much nearer to the enemy’s advanced posts than our own. To reach these villages and search them was about the limit of our adventures. The Bulgars were far too strong at this point, for here the Selemli Dere could be crossed by tracks which the enemy jealously guarded. Fortunately, though shots were sometimes exchanged no serious fighting occurred to the 2/15th London patrols. On the return journey towards daylight it was considered part of the scheme to halt at the village of Sejdelli, near our lines, and break down the woodwork in the houses already damaged by shell fire and bring doorposts, window frames and so on back into our lines for the cooks’ fire. It was most amusing to hear the patrols heralding their safe return by loudly hammering on the woodwork of Sejdelli. Never a Bulgar fell into the hands of our patrols, but they always returned with plenty of wood.

Although in daytime it was not advisable to wander across “No Man’s Land,” on one occasion our Intelligence Officer, Lieutenant Andrew, and his batman, Private Joines, spent a day searching the village of Dautli. They walked to the village during the night and hid themselves at dawn in an empty house to watch the movements of the enemy near the fords across the Selemli Dere near by. Great was their surprise, however, when a party of eight Bulgars appeared from the other side of the village carrying some rabbits and hares. Discretion was the better part of valour and Andrew and his batman decided to keep quiet. After a few exciting minutes and by quietly sneaking around the houses they were able to evade the enemy shooting party, and spent the rest of the day quietly enough locating and sketching the enemy forward posts. They returned to our lines in the evening.

Life under these conditions was very pleasant and the Battalion thoroughly enjoyed its stay in this part of the line. The only interruption beyond the casual shelling of our trenches and camps was the occasional visit of a flight of enemy aeroplanes which crossed over and dropped small bombs near our bivouacs. Usually they passed right over and made targets of the horse lines and dumps in rear of the Kolonovan Heights, and only when they were driven off by our anti-aircraft guns did they attempt to expend their efforts on our small hillside camps. Aerial activity on this front was very persistent, and practically every day our bombing planes sailed over and bombed the railways and dumps behind the Bulgar lines.

Occasionally a fight in the air took place, but the commoner sight was the repeated attacks of the enemy airmen on our observation balloon at Kolonova. On one or two occasions it was brought down in flames, but more often the attacker was driven off by our anti-aircraft guns, and on one occasion a direct hit by an “Archie” shell brought down the offending airman. The plane fell in flames near our battalion transport lines, and curiously when the wreck reached the ground the machine gun was still spitting out bullets and a few men of a neighbouring regiment were wounded by them.

The enemy infantry troubled us very little, and only an occasional cross fire between patrols made us aware of their presence, and fortunately they made no endeavours to reach the Battalion front; although at Bowls Barrow, a few hundred yards on our right, they made a determined raid on the 1st of April on a British post and inflicted casualties.

About the middle of April, however, our artillery became extremely active, and on the 20th the “Nose” and “P” ridge were heavily bombarded. This was the opening of an offensive on our part which was undertaken with a view of capturing the whole of “P” ridge. The bombardment was continued for three whole days with the intention of cutting the fields of wire which protected the Bulgar positions and to destroy his forward entrenchments. On the 23rd of April the volume of artillery increased considerably and continued until the night of the 24th, when the 2/20th Battalion of the London Regiment raided the stronghold of the “Nose.” Under cover of this heavy bombardment the Blackheath Battalion approached the enemy wire, and although our artillery had damaged it considerably, it still formed a great obstacle to the raiders. Heavy machine-gun fire was encountered, and the front slopes of the “Nose” were heavily barraged by the enemy, who also used strong search-lights from the crest of the “Nose” which swept the forward part of the position. Only a few gallant fellows ever reached the Bulgar trenches and the casualties were very heavy. For several nights afterwards search parties were out bringing in wounded. For the actual raid there was little direct success, but it served its purpose and acted as feint attack which drew a great deal of the enemy’s artillery fire, and thereby assisted the main attack which commenced that same night on the “P” ridge. This was successful, and Pip 4 and Pip 5 were captured after heavy fighting. The Battalion actually took no part in this general offensive, and fortunately the enemy’s artillery was so deeply engaged in combating the two serious attacks on their lines at the “Nose” and on “P” ridge that most of us were able to look from our trenches and watch the pyrotechnic display on either side. There can be no doubt that the British suffered heavy casualties in the minor attacks and counter-attacks which followed this initial success on the “P” ridge, but any attack on such strongholds as the “Pips” must of necessity be at great expense. The battle raged for about four days, but gradually subsided, and on the 27th of April the Battalion was taken out of the line and marched back to Tetre Verte, just over the ridge of the Kolonovan Heights, “D” Company remaining at Mektoub in immediate reserve to the London Scottish, who were holding the line east of Bekerli. Of all the camps in the Salonican area Mektoub was undoubtedly the safest, as it lay behind the cover of the hill, and consisted of tiers of dug-outs built into the very steep side of the hill. While out of the line the Battalion found fatigues even harder than in the line, for as far back as Tetre Verte one could wander about unobserved by the enemy, and, therefore, people who were seen very little in the front line were now very much in evidence.

On the eighth of May the line from the village of Krastali to Waggon Hill was slightly advanced in order to straighten the line which had been pushed forward by the partial success of the forward movement on the “P” ridge. Of course, this operation amounted to “peaceful penetration,” and no attack was necessary. The actual advance was made by the London Scottish and the Westminsters on that part of the line north-east of the Bekerli village, and was of course continued towards Krastali by the division on their right. Only “D” Company from Mektoub was engaged in this operation, having been brought up in support of the London Scottish as far as Piton 5, in rear of Middle Hill, and not to be mistaken for Pip 5 on the “P” ridge. On the 179th Brigade front the movement was performed without obstruction by the enemy, though further north-west near the village of Krastali strong opposition was met by the Division advancing from the Whaleback, and heavy artillery support had to be given to assist this section of the advance. Unfortunately one of the supporting batteries was firing from the dip in rear of Piton 5 and inflicted several casualties on “D” Company owing to their shells bursting at the muzzle of the guns. Lieutenant Miles and Private Cutchee were badly wounded, while Lieutenant F. W. Lewis and Lieutenant Martin received minor wounds and remained on duty.

The original line ran from Bekerli village north-west along the forward slopes of Mamelon Vert, Bastion Hill, Piton 6, Hill 275, Scratchbury Hill, Bowls Barrow, along Whaleback to Horse Shoe Hill, but after the advance the new line ran through Pitons 1, 2, 3 and 4, Basin Hill, Single Tree Hill, Tomato Hill over Krastali Nullah forward of Whaleback, and on the Pip ridge. After the night’s operation on the 8th, “D” Company returned to Mektoub under the cover of a heavy fog, the rest of the Battalion having remained at Tetre Verte during the advance.

The next night, the 9th of May, “D” Company left Mektoub as local reserve for the Westminsters, who pushed forward on to Goldies Hill, thus forming a salient in our new line between Basin Hill and Tomato Hill. The taking of Goldies by the Westminsters was resented by the Bulgar, who made a strong attack on the position with the assistance of a heavy artillery preparation. However, the Queen’s Westminsters held on and drove off the attack after heavy local fighting. On the 10th the Battalion moved from Tetre Verte and took over the new line from the London Scottish and also Goldies from the Westminsters.

The advance was comparatively a bloodless victory as far as the 179th Brigade was concerned, nevertheless it was of great importance on our front. From the new line the Selemli-Dautli plain was now under our direct observation from Pitons 3 and 4, Basin Hill, Goldies, and these hills therefore became positions from which an attack on the Selemli Fords could be attempted. Furthermore, it denied the Bulgar of the freedom of manœuvre over the captured part of “No Man’s Land,” while facing north from Goldies and Tomato Hill we were in closer touch with the enemy’s advanced posts near Devedzili on the slopes of White Scar and Flat Iron Hills. It had been impossible for the British forces to push forward before as we had only captured Pips 4 and 5 on the “P” ridge a few days previously. The capture of these two pips enabled our men to occupy more advanced positions without being under the direct observation of the Bulgar. The enemy resented very much the aggression on our part, and constantly shelled the newly-taken hills.

For the first fortnight of this period in the line the Battalion was employed in consolidating the new positions, and on the forward slopes of Tomato Hill, Single Tree Hill and Goldies, trenches were dug and each night miles of barbed-wire entanglements were erected. All this work was carried out under the protection of strong fighting patrols which took up their positions on the ravine in front of Flat Iron Hill. In daytime the hills were left in charge of a single sentry group and one signaller, while the remainder of the garrison retired for the day into the small nullahs on the rear of each hill ready to counter-attack should a message be received from the sentry group. Throughout the day the enemy ranged in the new-cut trenches, and with the exception of an unfortunate shell which wounded Lieutenant Hounsell, our forward groups had a charmed life. Only a minimum force was left behind the hills during the day; the remainder of the men returned to the old camps on Hill 275 and Piton 6. At night time, however, when large working parties were engaged in consolidating the positions, the enemy’s artillery became very active and many casualties resulted.

However, the hill which received the greatest strafe at nights was Goldies; the occupation of this point annoyed the Bulgar very much. The hill consisted of three distinct peaks one in front of the other, and were known as Goldies I, II, and III. Trenches were sited on II and III, while on Goldies I a strong patrol went out each night. For the first week of our occupation the hill was constantly shelled, and no less than ten distinct batteries showered their offerings on our heads. Fire came from White Scar direction in the north, from Pip 1 and 2 on the right, and from the Ouvrage de Trapeze on the left. In time we became acquainted with the direction of each battery and special sentries were posted who shouted “No. 6,” and then all the men on Goldies II bobbed down to the shelter in the shallow trenches, the occupants of Goldies III taking no notice; but when the sentry shouted, “No. 4 battery” it was the men on Goldies III who bobbed down while No. II men carried on with their work as though nothing had happened. Throughout the night the hill received a constant bombardment, and in one hour alone 600 shells fell near Goldies II and III.

Like the garrisons of the other hills the night garrison on Goldies retired for the day to the nullah in rear of the hill, leaving a small sentry group on Goldies II and III. The only approach to the top of Goldies from our lines was up a small ravine, and the Bulgars were apparently aware of its existence, the place was shelled both day and night, and was christened Pip Squeak Alley. At night, large working parties were sent up from the support battalion of the Brigade and dug a communication trench up the rear of the hill, and also one connecting Goldies II and III, but considerable casualties were incurred while the work was in progress.

The patrol on Goldies I pushed out scouts at night to the ravine in front, and one night a patrol, under Lieutenant Lewis, met a strong force of 20 Bulgars and a short sharp fight ensued. Our losses were only slight, chiefly wounds from bombs, but several Bulgars were killed, Lieutenant Lewis gallantly rushing the post and shooting two of the enemy with his revolver. The next night it was decided to raid the post with artillery support, but the patrol found that the Bulgar had fled. A special watch on this ravine was therefore kept, and Lieutenant Andrew and his batman Joines (“D” Company) spent the next day hidden in the bushes at the foot of Goldies I. A strong post of Bulgars came up to the ravine at daylight and settled themselves comfortably in the ravine, unaware of the watching couple. After a time a Bulgar N.C.O. wandered away from his comrades and approached the hiding place of Andrew and his batman, which was only 25 yards from the enemy. Suddenly the Bulgar’s attention was attracted by a walking stick on the ground which had been left by Andrew just before dawn when they took cover in the bushes. The Bulgar picked it up and examined his souvenir, but before he had taken full details of his find Lieutenant Andrew and Private Joines rushed at him and captured him. Whether the other Bulgars near by were struck motionless or whether the N.C.O. was particularly unpopular it is not known, but in broad daylight and in full view of the enemy Andrew and his batman chased their prisoner towards our lines and soon got under the cover of the hill. No attempt was made to follow them, and the Bulgar N.C.O. was soon on his way to Brigade Headquarters. It was an amusing adventure, but the brilliant daring of our two representatives cannot be over-estimated. Surprise had beaten numbers.

The Battalion held these new positions until the end of May When the whole Brigade was taken out of the line and concentrated at Dache near Kolonova. Rumours floated around that Pip 3 on the “P” ridge was to be our objective, but on the 5th of June orders were received to march back as far as Hadji Junas, about 10 miles behind the line. The march was carried out on the night of the 5th of June, and rain poured down making the route over the soft marshy ground near Lake Ardzan slippery and treacherous. The Battalion remained here for three days in hot weather and had an enjoyable rest.

On the 8th of June the march was continued south via Janis and Kukus as far as Sargol. By this time it was apparent that Salonica was to be our destination, and on the 11th of June we arrived at Uchanter, not far from Dudular, our first camp in Salonica, having stayed one day at Nares and another day at Ambarkoy on the route. This trek from the line was much pleasanter than the trek to the line in the previous March. Marching was done at night under the silvery rays of a bright moon, each night’s journey being about 15 miles. The weather was now becoming hot and marching at night was far more enjoyable than toiling along under the hot rays of the midday sun; after leaving Hadji Junas the roads were good, and I think the march was enjoyed by most of us; even the company mules behaved themselves and gave a minimum of trouble.

For the rest of the week the Battalion, in company with the remainder of the 60th Division, spent its time doing what the authorities were pleased to call “intensive training,” which meant field work from morn to night. During the night of the 19th of June the Battalion packed up its home and marched to the docks at Salonica. Great secrecy was made of the destination, and even the Commanding Officer and his staff who went down to the ship earlier in the evening were not allowed to return to the camp in case the news leaked out. On the morning of the 20th of June the Battalion boarded the Abbasieh, and learning that the boat was one of the Khedival Line, Egypt was soon on every lip. The sea journey was pleasant, and on the 22nd of June, while at sea, dinners celebrating the anniversary of our departure from England, twelve months previously, were held in all parts of the ship.

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