Title: Three years in France with the Guns: Being Episodes in the life of a Field Battery
Author: Rose, C. A.
Language: English
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Three years in France with the Guns

BEING
EPISODES IN THE LIFE OF A FIELD
BATTERY.

[Illustration]

BY C.A. ROSE, M.C.,
LATE OF THE
ROYAL FIELD ARTILLERY.

 Printed By
The Allen Lithographic Co., Ltd.,
Kirkcaldy


[Transcriber’s note: Obvious printer’s errors have been
corrected.
The original spelling has been retained.
—The caption of the illustrations were unclear.
—Page 50: “serious of raids” has been replaced by
“series of raids”
—Page 76: “must against” has been replaced by “much
against”]

Contents

 INTRODUCTION
 I. Breaking Us In
 II. Our First Battle
 III. “Peace Warfare.”
 IV. In “The Salient.”
 V. On the Somme
 VI. Messines
 VII. Ypres Again
 VIII. Cambrai
 IX. At Arras
 X. March the 21st
 XI. The Turn of the Tide
 XII. Through the Hindenburg Line



INTRODUCTION


These brief notes of experiences with the guns for thirty-eight months
in France were primarily penned for my own satisfaction. Friends who
read the manuscript expressed much interest in it, and added the hope
that it might be given a more permanent form. Hence it is that it is
now printed for private circulation.

The story is a simple record of the fortunes of my own Battery and
Brigade, and is intended as a tribute to the good comradeship which
existed, under all conditions, among all ranks.

C.A.R.


Edinburgh,
_January_, 1919.


The “Grey Battery” at St. Omer, May 1917 The “Grey Battery” at St.
Omer, May 1917



CHAPTER I.
Breaking Us In


On a morning early in August, 1915, the Brigade disembarked at Havre
without mishap to man, horse, or material, and proceeded to a Rest Camp
on the outskirts of the town. We were in France at last! The same
evening the Batteries started to entrain, and every two hours a
complete unit was despatched up the line—to an unknown destination. The
men received refreshments at various Haltes, and the horses were duly
watered and fed, but the journey was, on the whole, long and tedious.
On one occasion only was the monotony broken, and that unwittingly, by
the humour of one of the officers. In the course of the evening, the
train stopped at a small station, and the compartment in which the
officers were settled drew up in front of the Buffet. Some one asked
where we were, and a subaltern, anxious to display his newly-acquired
knowledge of French, replied, “Bouvette,” which called forth no
response. Shortly afterwards the train proceeded on its way, and the
occupants of the carriage settled themselves down to sleep. All passed
quietly for the next couple of hours—then the train stopped once more,
and, as luck would have it, again our carriage came to a standstill
directly opposite the buffet of the station. At once a question was
asked as to our whereabouts. The same subaltern, shaking himself out of
a deep slumber, stretched, roused himself, and, peering out of the
window, exclaimed, “Good Lor’, still at this beastly hole, ‘Bouvette’!”
He expressed much surprise at the “unseemly mirth,” as he described it,
which followed!!

After detraining, the Battery marched through beautiful country, which
reminded one of the Borders, as it was not unlike the valley of the
Tweed, and we were at once taken to the hearts of the inhabitants of
the good village of Seningham, which place was destined to be our home
for the next few days. The officers were afforded spacious
accommodation in the house of the Maire, whilst the men had comfortable
billets in the neighbourhood. Time was spent making our unit shipshape
after its travels by land and sea, and the “hairies” obtained as much
grazing as possible, to make them fit for what was in store for them.
It was wonderful how quickly the men adapted themselves to French ways,
and much amusement was caused by their eager, if somewhat unsuccessful,
attempts to master the language of our Allies.

When it became known that the officers were anxious to increase their
knowledge of the language of the country, the maidens of the village
vied with one another to obtain posts as instructresses, and there was
nearly a free fight amongst them for the possession of our worthy
Senior Subaltern, whose taking ways did not fail to catch their
attention!

But, alas! our peaceful warfare was not to be for long! One morning
sudden orders came through to prepare for the line in a couple of days’
time. All was instant bustle, extra grooming was given to the horses,
and finishing touches were put to the howitzers and vehicles. We were
to be given a trial in action to show how we would comport ourselves
before joining the “Feet” of our own Division, the Guards, who at that
time were out at rest. For this purpose we were to be placed under the
orders of the C.R.A. of an Indian Division, to reinforce the Batteries
already in positions and receive instruction from them.

At last the morning arrived to move off, the column, skirting the town
of St. Omer, took the main road to Hazebrouck, and, as we passed
through the village of Arques, we caught a first glimpse of our future
infantry. They appeared equally keen on seeing their new artillery, and
inspected us with a critical eye. The march was made in easy stages,
and on the morning of the third day the Brigade arrived at Merville, a
quaint old town in Flemish Flanders. After a hasty lunch, the officers
rode ahead, in order to get into touch with the unit we were to support
in the line, and another amusing incident happened _en route_. One of
the Junior Officers owned a sturdy mare, whose reputation as a charger
was apt to be ridiculed by his companions, as she was notorious for her
slow gait. When the party had proceeded some distance at the trot,
“Halting Hilda” was observed, to the astonishment of everyone, to be
gradually taking the lead. This fact called forth the remark from her
master, “By Jove, she is pulling extraordinarily hard to day: what can
be the matter with the animal?” It was then discovered that the rider
had been at her mercy for the last couple of miles, the bit clanking
merrily from side to side under her great jaw. In the hurry and
excitement of departure, after lunch! the bit had not been replaced in
her mouth!

The afternoon was spent in reconnoitering the gun positions allotted to
us, which were the alternative positions of the units already in line.
As a rule, each battery makes a second or alternative gun position, in
case it should be shelled out of its existing one, so that no delay
takes place in getting into action again. When night fell there was
subdued excitement in the wagon line as the time drew near to take the
guns “in.” This was actually the beginning of our first venture—would
we have the luck to get there without being caught in the enemy’s
harassing fire? How would we behave under shell-fire: would we be
steady or otherwise? All these and many other questions flashed through
our minds, for a great deal depends, more than one would believe, on
how a new and inexperienced unit receives its baptism of fire.

At length a start was made, and the Battery moved off, and soon turned
down the long, straight main road leading to La Bassée, the trees on
either side showing signs of shrapnel scars, and even in the darkness
it could be seen that the cottages were, for the most part, in ruins.
It felt distinctly eerie as the small column proceeded silently on its
way without showing lights of any description; the stillness and
darkness broken now and again by the barking of a gun as we drew nearer
the battery zone, and by an occasional Verey Light, which seemed to
reveal us in all our nakedness. That long stretch of road seemed
interminable—were we never going to reach our destination? However, all
remained quiet throughout our progress, and at last we arrived at the
entrance to the gun position, which was to be our home for the next
fortnight. The guns were speedily unlimbered and man-handled into the
pits awaiting their reception, the ammunition was unloaded from the
vehicles, and the teams were returned to the wagon line.

The following morning the pieces were “layed out” on our particular
zone, and we had time to look round and take stock of our new abode,
which was a farmhouse standing in the centre of an orchard adjoining
the main road. The building itself was by no means intact, although, as
yet, habitable. It gave us enough shelter of a kind, and we soon
adjusted ourselves to the prevailing conditions, and the outhouses
surrounding it afforded ample accommodation for the detachments. The
gun pits were cunningly concealed in the front portion of the orchard,
special care having been taken against the prying eyes of hostile
aeroplanes. We were fortunate in the choice of position made for our
first time in the line, for two reasons, firstly, it was an interesting
zone—including the village of Neuve Chapelle now immediately behind our
front line—and, secondly, it was quiet. The country there is extremely
flat, with the exception of Aubers Ridge, which, occupied by the enemy,
overlooked us to a certain extent, although the many trees and woods
prevented his having an uninterrupted view. Our tuition began at once,
and we were conducted to the front line through innumerable
communication trenches, which, at first, reminded one of a maze at an
exhibition, the only difference being that numerous notice-boards
directed our movements.

There we were welcomed, with smiling faces, by men of a Ghurka
battalion, their white teeth and flashing eyes showing up their brown
skins. Now and then they would stop sharpening their deadly-looking
kukris, their dearest possession, to allow us to pass along the trench.
Nothing delighted these brave little men more than to be permitted to
go on a silent raid at night, when they wormed themselves through the
wire in “No Man’s Land,” and did as much damage on the other side as
possible. They have been known to enter the enemy trenches without a
sound, killing everyone within reach, and to return radiant, quite
unscathed. When questioned as to why they had not brought in any
prisoners for identification purposes, they would merely roll their
eyes, shrug their shoulders, and say, “Enemy all quiet, he asleep,” and
calmly remove the still warm gore from their knives! Continuing on our
way, we next struck a Highland regiment, the necessary complement of
the one of stout little men just left behind. It was most interesting,
as one had heard so much about the traditional good comradeship
existing, in India, between Ghurka and Highlander, and here they were
still side by side in France. Their mutual admiration is boundless and
unconcealed, and it was most amusing to watch the little men aping the
ways of the big Highlanders, who look huge in comparison with them. The
Ghurka regiments have their own pipe bands, and play them as if they,
too, had been born and bred in the mountains and glens of Scotland.

Soon we came to a fire bay, specially well placed to obtain a good view
of the enemy trenches, which had been converted into what is known as
an O.P., _i.e._, an artillery observation post. These O.P.’s are manned
during daylight by the F.O.O. (Forward Observation Officer) and his
signaller assistants. Their job is to keep a close watch on hostile
trenches, watching for any unusual movement or for the appearance of
new constructive works, such as machine gun emplacements or new saps.
The O.P. has numerous wires leading into it, and these come from all
the batteries in immediate support of that part of the line, which are
jointly responsible for its defence. Our own signallers had been out
early, and a wire had already been carefully laid and labelled from our
gun position to the O.P., so we were now ready to register our
howitzers on some definite object behind the enemy lines. A house, or
some such landmark which is shewn on our trench maps, is usually chosen
to calibrate upon. There is little trouble in effecting this, but, at
first, there is some difficulty in following the rounds as they fall,
through a periscope, owing to its small field of vision. It was,
however, imperative to make use of that instrument, in this case, as an
enemy sniper, watchful and on the alert, had already seen the top of
it, and from time to time a bullet passed overhead unpleasantly close.
This served to remind us to be discreet and to run no risks by exposing
ourselves in the slightest degree above the parapet. Sometimes it is
very difficult to restrain one’s enthusiasm when there is an
interesting shoot taking place.

The pieces being duly registered, the Battery is now ready for any
emergency, and theoretically we can engage any target in our arc of
fire. It is then essential to learn the country in hostile territory,
and one looks out for likely targets and for points at which one can
inconvenience the enemy by keeping him under constant harassing fire.
This work must necessarily be done from a point of vantage where a good
wide view can be obtained, and, in most cases, a house, tree, or high
piece of ground well behind the lines, is selected for a Rear O.P.

In an incredibly short space of time every officer learns the country
off by heart, and can bring any gun to bear on a particular target at
short notice. At first Junior Officers are allowed practice shoots on
targets well behind the enemy lines, and as they gain confidence and
experience, are entrusted with “close shoots,” _i.e._, firing on
hostile emplacements, etc., in the front line, a job which requires
extreme caution and accuracy, as “No Man’s Land” averages not more than
200 yards in width in most places. Batteries can always communicate
with Battalion Headquarters in the line, a wire, usually buried,
leading from there to our Brigade Headquarters, and each Battery has
its own private wire to the latter place. In the same way one can be
linked up with nearly every unit in a Division by means of an Exchange
run by the Royal Engineers.

A few days sufficed us to make ourselves quite at home, and officers
went freely about “seeking whom they might devour,” visited old
established O.P.’s, and searched for new or better ones. It is a
curious fact that the average subaltern is never fully satisfied with
an O.P., and is always bent on discovering “something better,” although
in few cases is his ambition realised! One officer favours this O.P.,
another that, and on this occasion the one which our worthy Battery
Commander had a preference for was a most unpleasant place, commonly
known as “The Doll’s House,” though why so called no one could tell. At
any rate, it was an abode to be avoided on all possible occasions, and
the subalterns were quite convinced it was the registering place of all
the hostile batteries within range and vision. At any rate, we daily
found less and less of the building, until one day the staircase was
blown away as well as the perch on top which afforded us our view.
Great was the relief when the B.C. at last declared the O.P. “out of
action” until further notice.

Nearly every O.P. has an appropriate name given to it, and so we
repaired to “Stink Farm” after abandoning our old love! We put in most
useful days of practice there, and the knowledge and experience gained
was invaluable. Our thanks were due to the enemy for his consideration
in allowing us to conduct our daily tasks almost unmolested: he showed
himself to be most lethargic and sleepy, and did not waken up unless we
were unusually energetic. Perhaps his chief reason for remaining so
inactive was the absence of any heavy guns on our side. Our largest
piece was a 60 pdr., and he may have thought mere Field Artillery
beneath his consideration. Nor was he more active in the air; his
planes rarely passed over our lines, and when they did, it was at so
great a height that it was quite impossible for them to gather
information. However, one day, we were extremely fortunate in seeing a
hostile plane, that had ventured to cross over our lines at a lower
altitude, brought down in flames by a direct hit from an “Archie”
battery lying in wait close behind our own position. It is a rare
sight, for, to tell the truth, anti-aircraft batteries are not held in
particularly high respect by anyone except by those of their own ilk,
and on only two other occasions did we ever see the like again.

Our fortnight soon sped by, and we were quite reluctant when the time
came to go “out.” We left our neighbours, who had befriended us so
well, with the sincere hope that we would have the good fortune to meet
and lie alongside of them again in the future. This hope, however, was
not destined to be fulfilled. We retraced our steps through Merville
and Aire to the same area from whence we came, to a village called
Nielles, in order to concentrate as a Division, which, when formed, was
designated the Guards Division.

The inhabitants, as usual, extended a warm welcome to us and showed us
every consideration, and we settled down to enjoy the peaceful
surroundings bathed in the warm and pleasant September sunshine, while
the Senior Subaltern availed himself of the opportunity of again laying
siege to the hearts of his former conquests at Seningham close by. Our
own C.R.A. came to visit us here, and the officers were severally
introduced to him. He expressed satisfaction at the report which came
to him from the line, concerning our conduct in action, and added that
the high opinion formed of us at home had in no wise been diminished,
and that our reputation merited the distinction conferred on us of
being selected as the Artillery of the Guards from among the many units
of the new Army.

Thus we waited, confident in the belief that, whatever we were in the
future called upon to do, we would at least put up a good show, and
determined to be a credit to the Division of which we now formed a
part. We had not long to wait, whispers passed round that we would be
up and doing at no distant date, and these rumours proved to be well
founded.



CHAPTER II.
Our First Battle.


Our marching orders came within the next few days. Each unit was
provided with portable bridges, which were carried under the wagon
bodies, and this, and several other preparations, gave us a good
indication that we were out for business. A couple of days trekking
brought us to the village of Nedonchel, which proved to be another
place of happy memory to our Senior Subaltern. Here we were given a
rough idea of the part we were to play in the coming proceedings. Two
army corps were to attack, on a six mile front, in the neighbourhood of
Loos and, if the assault was successful, the corps in reserve, which
included our Division, was to go through and exploit the victory to its
fullest advantage. We were to take no part in the initial attack.

Large masses of troops were being moved up behind the battle area, and,
in order to screen our movements from hostile aircraft, the latter
stages of the journey were to be made under cover of darkness, so the
whole of the next day was spent in resting. At nightfall a diversion
was caused by a Cavalry Division passing through the village on its way
up, and a splendid sight it presented, as one famous regiment followed
swiftly on another. It was now almost time for us to make a start, and
the good lady of the house had remained out of bed to brew us hot
coffee and see us off the premises. As we were about to depart she told
us that her old mother, aged 88, who was in the next room, had
expressed the desire to see us for a moment, and so we were conducted
to the old lady’s bedside. She was lying telling her beads, but sat up
as we approached and beckoned to each officer in turn, who advanced,
knelt, and received a blessing. The inhabitants knew well that a big
battle was to be fought quite soon, as the little village had been the
scene of great activity during the past few days and, although it was a
considerable distance from the line, the preliminary bombardment could
be distinctly heard. The low muffled rumble was incessant, and,
to-night, seemed, if anything, more intense. Shortly after midnight we
set off and disappeared into the darkness, followed by words of good
cheer from the villagers and shouts of “Bon chance, messieurs, bon
chance.”

Passing through Bruay we arrived a few miles behind the battle front on
the morning of the assault, which was delivered at an early hour, and
soon the news came back that, so far, everything was going well; the
village of Loos had already fallen into our hands. As the day wore on,
however, and the expected orders to advance were not forthcoming, we
suspected that all was not as it should be and our fears were confirmed
soon afterwards by instructions being given to prepare to bivouac
overnight on the ground close by. What actually happened was this:—The
initial attack was successful in capturing and overrunning the enemy’s
front line trenches over the whole area, but, on advancing to the
second trench system a great deal of wire was found to have been left
unbroken or untouched by our artillery, and this held the infantry up
at vital places. The attack, however, was pressed with great courage
and determination, and in some places the flood of men swept on, but,
unfortunately, in others, little or no progress was made. The line,
consequently, soon presented a crooked, irregular shape, which made the
situation difficult and obscure. The enemy, moreover, had anticipated
the attack and had large reinforcements at hand which were at once
thrown in, and after a ding-dong struggle throughout the day the
advance came to an abrupt standstill. Two Divisions from the Reserve
Corps were then sent in, and, on the following afternoon, the Guards
attacked and helped to a large extent in straightening out a
considerable portion of the line. It was not until nightfall of the
third day that we entered the battle and took up a position immediately
north of Vermelles Station in the back garden of a row of damaged
villas. On our way “in,” a couple of cavalry regiments, which had been
holding Loos for the last two days and which had just been relieved,
passed us. There passed also the remnant of one of the Scottish
Divisions which had fought so valiantly and paid so heavy a price.
Footsore, weary, and caked with mud from top to toe, with every sign of
what they had been through upon them, and heavily laden with
“souvenirs” in addition to their full kit, the men could scarcely crawl
along. However, just as one battalion came abreast of us, in such
condition, the pipes tuned up and at once every head was erect and not
a man was out of step as they swung past us; such is the moral force of
the bagpipes. It was one of those moments in which a lump rises in the
throat and a thrill runs down the spine.

In our new position we speedily learnt what we could do and what we
could not do. For instance, the signallers were able to introduce
electric light into our abode by tapping a live wire which ran outside,
from one fosse to the next, for we were now in the Lens coal district
with mines dotted about here and there. On the other hand, we soon
learnt to refrain from sleeping or showing lights in the second storey
of our billet which was evidently under direct observation by the
enemy, who did not take long to acquaint us with the fact.

There was always a good deal of firing to be done each day, for,
although the battle may be said to have finished after four or five
days, there were several side-shows before the line was adjusted to our
liking, and the enemy’s fire was almost continuous. This bothered the
F.O.O. parties considerably, and communication was difficult to
maintain for more than a short time between the front line and Battery.
The wire was frequently broken in numerous places, and this kept
signallers and linesmen working at high pressure to repair the damage.
The O.P.’s were moderately good, with the exception of one in “Gun
Trench,” where our men held a portion, then came a sand bagged wall
occupied on the other side by our opponents which they were able to
enter by a T-shaped communication trench, then another sand-bagged wall
with our infantry beyond. Neither side could shell this trench for fear
of injury to their own party, but this did not prevent a lively
exchange of bombs, intermingled with various forms and sizes of
“Minnies,” which were hurled at frequent intervals. Sniping was also
rampant, and periscopes, no matter how small, survived not longer than
a few minutes. It was from this delightful spot that one of the
subalterns arrived at the Battery one evening with his head swathed in
bandages like a Sultan’s turban. He had been trying conclusions with a
“Minnie,” and, as this was in the days before the introduction of the
steel helmet, the latter had easily come out on top. When the wound was
ascertained to be nothing like as serious as the size of the bandage
seemed to indicate, he was removed to the wagon line amid jeers from
his brother officers, and a few days’ rest sufficed to bring him back
to duty again.

Now, in one portion of the zone which we were covering, “No Man’s Land”
extended some 1500 yards in depth, and midway, lying in the valley,
were what appeared to be two derelict enemy guns partially camouflaged
This aroused the curiosity of the Staff, who called for volunteers to
go out and make an investigation and report as to the condition of the
sights, etc. Our B.C. gallantly offered his services, in spite of the
fact that he was over six feet in height, and presented a most
conspicuous figure, and would not be deterred. He set off crawling
through the long grass on his perilous journey, and there was a huge
grin on his face when he returned. After his report went in we
ascertained that the two pieces were nothing more than cleverly
constructed dummies formed from cart wheels, telegraph poles and trunks
of trees, but it was not until he almost came up to them that he made
the discovery.

The detachments meanwhile had settled down, making improvements to
their billets and strengthening the gun pits, and were already proving
themselves seasoned warriors. On one occasion a nasty accident
happened, due to the explosion of a howitzer, caused, as was afterwards
proved, by a faulty shell. The complete gun crew, with the exception of
the No. 1 in charge, was wounded. Three of their number were
temporarily buried by the earth thrown up by the explosion, and it was
probably due to that fact that no one was killed. The pit naturally
fell to bits and the debris was indescribable, but the Sergeant managed
to disentangle himself, and, standing stiffly to attention, reported to
the officer on duty, “No. 2 gun out of action, sir!” No time was lost
in digging out the injured men, and it was only found necessary to
evacuate three of the number to the nearest dressing station—the
remainder flatly refusing to go. The layer, in particular, deserved
great credit for his grit, for, in spite of having been buried, and
having scarcely a hair left on his head and devoid of eyebrows, not to
mention the shock to his nervous system, he was again serving his gun
24 hours later, on the arrival of the new piece. Some idea of the force
of the explosion can be gathered from the fact that the barrel was
found, in two pieces, some 150 yards away, having been blown over a
railway embankment, while the breech block, which weighs about a cwt.,
was discovered, after a 12 hours’ search, embedded in the ground six
feet below the pit. At this period a considerable number of
“prematures” were taking place, and, on one occasion, we ascribed this
wounding of two gunners to this cause, but afterwards found out our
mistake. An S.O.S. went up after dark, and, at the time of firing No. 3
gun, the layer and another gunner were both badly hit by what appeared
to be a “premature” just outside the bore of the piece. Throughout this
period we were firing nothing but high explosive shells. Great
therefore was our surprise when, three weeks later, letters arrived
from both men, who were in hospital, to say that in each case shrapnel
bullets had been extracted from them! What had actually occurred was
this: At the same time that the trigger was pulled and the shell
discharged, a “pip squeak” must have burst in front of the mouth of the
gun pit, driving the bullets through the entrance.

Day after day passed in much the same way, neither side attempting to
make an attack on any large scale, but on the morning of the 8th
October, it was observed that the hostile shelling was not normal, and
had increased in extent along the whole recently captured area.
Preparations were therefore rapidly made to meet any eventuality, and,
as the day advanced and his bombardment gained in strength, it was
apparent to everyone that the enemy contemplated an attack. At noon
orders were received to be ready, at any time, to lay down a
destructive barrage on a certain zone. The Staff had happily
anticipated the point of attack accurately, and, by the time the enemy
concentrated his final burst of lire on his objectives, every gun in
the neighbourhood which could bear, was trained on the vital spot ready
to open out. When at last the time arrived, the bombardment ceased
abruptly, and the enemy’s infantry advanced to the assault wave upon
wave, for the most part in mass formation and with arms linked
together. Emerging from a wood, they had a considerable distance to
cover across open ground before approaching our trenches, so both our
infantry and artillery fire was at first withheld. This gave
encouragement to the enemy, and, as his bombardment had been pretty
severe, he expected more or less of a “walk over,” and did not reckon
on what was to follow. When he had advanced to within 200 yards of our
lines, suddenly rapid fire spurted out from our rifles and machine
guns, and guns of every description spat H.E. and shrapnel, and his
ranks were literally mown down. Then a curtain was put down behind—a
solid wall of fire—which made it practically impossible for the troops
to retire, and their plight was beyond all hope. While they were
cogitating whether to come on or go back, they were slaughtered in
heaps—raked by the deadly machine guns. Very few indeed survived to
tell the tale, but one prisoner claimed to be most indignant with the
whole proceedings, and expressed his opinion that we did not “play the
game” by withholding our fire, and that they imagined they had only to
walk into our trenches and take possession of them. This proved to be
the last big hostile counter-attack attempted, and indeed both sides
were content to remain in their own trenches. We made a smaller attack
the next week, but it was also unsuccessful, and little or no ground
was gained. The enemy artillery devoted themselves principally to
counter battery work, and several British batteries, which were ill
concealed, had a most unpleasant time. Free use was made of
lachrymatory shell, our first taste of it. One clear, moonlight night
the battery was firing at a slow rate, and apparently the enemy saw our
flashes, for he speedily turned a 4.2 battery on to us, his shells
landing just short of each gun pit. No casualties resulted, but a shell
entered the window of one detachment’s billet and exploded, completely
wrecking the room and destroying the men’s equipment. Soon afterwards
instructions were issued to change positions, and this was effected
without loss or mishap. The new position was more favourably placed,
some little way in front of the Fosse at Annequin, and had been
constructed by the French. We were now covering the Hohenzollern
Redoubt of evil memory. Another O.P. was constructed on the railway
embankment on the La Bassée-Vermelles line, which lent itself
favourably to the construction of a shaft for protection, the soil, for
the most part, being chalk, as indeed it was in all the surrounding
neighbourhood. It was our misfortune at this position to say farewell
to our Battery Commander, who left us to take up a Staff appointment
with the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force, and all ranks were sorry to
lose a leader who had thus far shared all their joys and sorrows. At
the same time we were fortunate in securing in his successor one who
quickly and tactfully took up the reins of office, and the Battery
continued to run on equally smooth lines.

It now became quite evident that operations would not resume the nature
of a battle, and it was no surprise to receive intimation that the
Division would shortly retire from the conflict. Nobody was sorry at
the prospect of going out, although useful lessons had been learnt and
considerable experience had undoubtedly been gained.

The weather was beginning to break, and towards the end of the first
week in November we withdrew to the village of Sailly, preparatory to
marching into the next area for which we were bound.



CHAPTER III.
“Peace Warfare.”


When it became known that our destination was to be the sector
immediately adjoining the one we had already been in, facing Aubers
Ridge, our delight knew no bounds, for all were well aware that that
locality was considered a “cushy” spot which augured well for the
coming winter.

No delay was made in leaving Sailly, and, proceeding by way of Bethune
and St. Venant, we arrived at a small hamlet midway between the latter
town and Merville. The Battery remained in rest for a few days, while a
couple of “subs.” with a working party commenced construction on the
new position selected by the B.C. This entailed a considerable amount
of labour, for timber and all other material had to be carted from the
R.E. dump at La Gorgue some distance away. With an eye to comfort as
well as concealment, it was decided to dig the pits in an orchard,
along some old assembly trenches which had been used by troops before
the battle of Neuve Chapelle. Close by was a cluster of cottages and
outhouses in a wonderful state of preservation.

By the end of the week the guns were pulled in, although there still
remained a lot to do on the position. The house in which the officers
quartered themselves was intact, with the exception of a few slates on
the roof and several broken window panes. Moreover, there was a little
furniture left and there were some fine open fireplaces, so we had
every reason to be satisfied. Within a short space of time the gun pits
were completed and camouflaged in keeping with the nature of the
ground, and great assistance was rendered us during this undertaking by
an airman who flew over the position from time to time and pointed out
the various deficiencies. At last when he reported that the position
could not be seen from a height of 2000 feet we concluded, rightly,
that nothing was to be feared in that direction. Thus we settled down
to a period commonly known as “Peace Warfare.” This may be summed up us
a time when one experiences the maximum amount of pleasure that is
possible under war conditions, with the minimum amount of discomfort.
The enemy were completely deceived as to our whereabouts, and took us
to be in another vacant position some way down the road, which was
liberally shelled by them whenever fire was opened by us, and we used
to encourage this procedure by occasionally ceasing in order to lead
him into the belief that he was doing us damage. At all events, the
position was never shelled the whole time we were in possession of it—a
somewhat unique experience for a battery in France.

The infantry were also kept busy at the commencement of this period, as
we had relieved another Indian Division, and on this sector the parapet
had been built for the most part by Ghurkas, who, however stout fellows
they may be at heart, have not the stature of Guardsmen. The result was
the latter found their heads and shoulders showing well above the
parapet, and this necessitated the immediate heightening of the same
some two to three feet.

The O.P. duties were divided equally between the subalterns, each doing
a third daily. The wagon lines were situated east of La Gorgue within
easy reach, and frequent visits were paid to them, although no officer
remained there permanently.

During our stay here the Battery came under the direct orders of the
C.R.A. and was attached to no group in particular. Various tasks were
alloted to us, and these were, as a rule, most interesting and
instructive. To further increase our knowledge the B.C. gave the
majority of these shoots to the Junior Officers, briefly explaining the
orders and then leaving us to our own devices by departing for the rest
of the day to the wagon lines on the pretext that he had a birthday to
celebrate. He had many of them. This plan was much to our liking, and
tremendous keenness was displayed by all. Great pains were taken to
carry out everything to the letter, and the signallers also carried out
their part with equal spirit. The gun detachments at this time rose to
a high pitch of proficiency and could get 10 rounds a minute out of the
howitzers, which, considering the double load and triple movement, was
by no means a bad performance.

A fine level field ran alongside of the position, and it was speedily
made use of as a recreation ground. Goal posts were erected, and often
a hot contest at football would be interrupted by the shrill blast of a
whistle summoning the men hastily to action. Their task completed, they
would calmly return and finish the game.

All kinds of mutual understandings existed between the opposing sides
in this area, which we soon learnt and respected. For instance, the
village of Aubers lay behind the enemy lines approximately at the same
distance that Laventie did on our side. Both were used as Brigade
Headquarters and filled with troops. Neither town was shelled unless
the enemy accidentally dropped a shell into it, when instant
retaliation was forthcoming. On one occasion the placid calm of
Laventie was rudely shaken through the instrumentality of a young
officer in one of our sister brigades who, unconscious of what he was
doing, planted several shells into Aubers. The consequence was the
following conversation took place over the telephone between
Headquarters and the offending subaltern.

“Hullo! Is that Ack Battery?”

“Yes, sir. Just a moment, sir. I’ll put you through to the mess, sir.”

“Right you are, but look sharp about it, please. Yes. Hullo! Is that an
officer? Well, I say, have you been firing just now?”

“Yes, sir. So-and-so is doing a practice shoot from the O.P.”

“Put me on to him at once.”

“Yes, sir.”

A brief interval follows, in which various mutterings are overheard by
the signaller in the exchange, who smiles to himself as he continues to
listen.

“Hullo! hullo!! Damn these young officers! Will they never learn to
answer quickly? Slow, slow is not the word for it. Will have to go
round and shake them up a bit. This is absurd. Hullo! there. Hullo! Is
he never going to come? Exchange, can’t you get him?”

“Just a moment, sir.”

“Hullo! hullo!!”

“Yes, sir. So-and-so speaking.”

“What the devil are you firing at, young sir?”

“Well, sir, I was given permission to fire a few rounds——”

“Where?”

“At the cross roads, sir.”

“Seen any of them fall?”

“Not as yet, sir.”

“Well, for God’s sake stop firing at once, sir. Why, man, your shells
are dropping in Aubers, and they are retaliating like the very devil.
There goes another, just outside.”

“Very sorry, sir. Couldn’t make out where the shells were falling.”

“Well, report to me as soon as you get back, remember. Have no time to
listen to an explanation now.”

“Very good, sir. Good-bye, sir.”

An animated discussion now takes place in the telephone exchange, and
the unanimous opinion is that poor So-and-so is “for it” and will
perhaps even get the sack, and who will succeed to the Right Section if
he leaves the Battery?

In these days a walk along the front line was a delight, and nothing
gave the F.O.O. greater pleasure than to take his morning
constitutional from one end of our area to the other and to peer over
the side at frequent intervals by means of a periscope. Sniping was
sometimes indulged in, but a target rarely presented itself for the
simple reason that the enemy was hardly ever in his front line trenches
during daylight. From one O.P. we could often see one or two men
running along the trenches with lighted torches kindling fires and
causing smoke in order to lead us into the belief that the trenches
were powerfully manned.

Now, about this time, a number of hostile batteries, whose positions
could not be located, gave us a certain amount of trouble, but a
successful ruse was carried out which enabled us to discover them.
Operations were undertaken in order to force the enemy to show his
hand, and every indication was made by us that we were about to
institute a raid. Wire cutting was done by one battery, and others
registered strong points in rear behind the prescribed area. Then at
dusk, known as flesh time, when batteries are most likely to give their
positions away, all the O.P.’s were manned, spotting apparatus made
ready, and our barrage was put down on this sector. The infantry had
been provided with dummy figures, which they held aloft on poles, and
in the semi-darkness this gave the impression that they were preparing
to quit the trenches and go over the top, while high overhead hovered a
number of our aeroplanes waiting to assist. The plan worked admirably,
and in a few minutes the enemy’s counter preparation commenced. As the
result of our efforts his positions were pin-pointed and dealt with by
our 60-pdrs. the next day, after which we were not bothered by them to
such a great extent.

Soon after this episode there came upon the scene what were commonly
known as “Cook’s Tourists.” These were officers whose units were still
at home, and who were sent out to gain experience by being attached to
batteries for a short period. At times the tourist laid himself open to
being the victim of many practical jokes, and this certainly
contributed to the liveliness of the mess. A certain officer was
escorted down to the front line trenches one day, and, as usual, the
party was armed with periscopes. All of a sudden he emitted a cry of
delight, as, gazing through the instrument, he told us of how crowds of
the enemy were walking along a road. Could we not get our guns on to
them quickly? This seemed an incredible occurrence, as, in this sector,
not a single German had been seen for days on end. The mystery was
speedily solved, however. By some means or other, he had been holding
the periscope so that it faced the opposite direction, and what he
actually saw was a party of our own men walking leisurely along the
road some way behind our lines. Needless to say, this officer came in
for a considerable amount of chaff, and, in course of time, was
solemnly presented with a paper medal, suitably inscribed, on which
reversed periscopes figured prominently.

The festive season was now drawing near, which necessitated the
gathering of provisions, for the men were to celebrate the 25th of
December by having a special dinner, and presently leave was opened to
our unit and the first lucky ones departed for “Blighty.” Some sort of
gift was due the enemy on this occasion, and it took the shape of a
sharp five minutes’ bombardment, from every gun in the area, on the
stroke of midnight on Xmas Eve. In spite of this gruelling, the enemy
next morning showed signs of wishing to fraternise with our men in the
front line, but strict orders had been issued in advance that this was
not to be countenanced. The Germans showed themselves freely above the
parapet, and one could see that they had been dressed up smartly for
the occasion, probably in order to impress us with their appearance.
However, there was “nothing doing.” Little or no sniping took place,
but the artillery went through their usual routine, in fact rather
increased their fire that day. The men’s dinner was a great success,
and all seemed pleased with their fare—pork and potatoes, vegetables,
plum pudding and fruit, with plenty of beer or stout to wash it down.
The Officers’ Mess was lively also, and our first ’Xmas, under war
conditions, was voted most successful. Next day the Padre turned up,
and a service was held in one of the barns, but, in the middle of the
address, on “Peace on earth, goodwill towards men,” there was a sudden
call for “action.” A rush was made to the guns, and, after a few
minutes’ argument with the enemy, we returned and finished listening to
the discourse. Somehow or other one could not help feeling that the two
happenings were incongruous!

We had a notion that perhaps the enemy would make an attempt to
retaliate on us at New Year for our little joke on ’Xmas Eve, and this
proved to be correct. He made rather a feeble demonstration, and it was
speedily squashed, as we were awaiting it. It was an extraordinary
thing, but we always found our foe very slow in the uptake: it
generally took him quite a week to think out some measure of
retaliation, and when it came, it consisted, as a rule, in copying what
we had done to him. We could usually count on that and consequently
guard against it.

One day instructions came through calling for a report on a new charge,
for reducing the flashes when night firing, which was supposed to be in
our possession. Our worthy Senior Subaltern was at that time in
command, so he decided to have the trial the same evening and put in
his report at once. The remaining officers were to “stand by” at the
guns and first fire a salvo with the ordinary charge and then one with
the new one, while he stood some distance in front to wait the results.
All went well and the salvoes were duly fired, although, at the battery
end, there did not appear to be any difference between them, which fact
was unanimously agreed upon. However, that was not the opinion of the
Senior Subaltern, who waxed eloquent on the “soft, velvety colour” of
the new charge. This was all set down presently, in a lengthy dispatch
covering, at least, two columns of “foolscap,” and sent to the Brigade.
Nothing further was heard for several days, then a telephone message
came through which brought a smile to the face of everyone in the mess
except the officer concerned. It ran as follows:—“Reference my B214 of
the 9th inst. Report on flash reducing charges is herewith cancelled.
The production of same has not yet been issued to batteries in the
field A.A.A.” Both salvoes had been of the same nature!

Our Right Section Commander had a mania for spy hunting, and it was
true that spies were known to infest the neighbourhood and had
sometimes actually been caught. On every available occasion this
officer would set out to scour the countryside in quest of a suspect.
One day this led to the waste of much energy on his part. Having
followed hard on the scent of a suspicious character, from one end of
our area to the other, the quarry suddenly doubled back along the La
Bassée road and disappeared into a house. Our friend entered also, and
found himself in a Brigade Headquarters, confronted by the “spy,” who
greeted him warmly, and asked him what service he could render him, at
the same time calling for tea. He had shadowed none other than the
chief Intelligence Officer of the Division the whole afternoon! There
was nothing for it but to own up and apologise as best he could, to the
vast amusement of the Staff Officer. After this incident, we were
spared further wild-goose chases by this enthusiast, and the keenness
hitherto shown by him for these quests somewhat abated.

A good deal of excitement was caused, at this time, by the arrival of
some heavy artillery in our neighbourhood, so much talk had come to our
ears concerning them. The guns were duly placed in position, and on the
afternoon on which they were to open fire a large turn out of F.O.O.’s
collected in the O.P.’s to watch the enemy get a surprise. They did
considerable damage, but, at the same time, were largely responsible
for stirring up a veritable wasp’s nest of hostile heavies which had
been lying dormant for ages, and consequently our front again became
active.

While our F.O.O. was proceeding one day from the O.P. to the front
line, he was caught in one of those bursts of hate and separated from
the telephonists who accompanied him. On the conclusion of the shoot, a
search was made for him, but he was nowhere to be found. They returned
to the Battery and reported the circumstance to the B.C., who, much
concerned, speedily organised a search-party, and set out for the scene
of action. After a couple of hours weary tramping, they came upon a
Company Headquarters in the front line, and there, comfortably
ensconced in an easy-chair, with a large whisky-and-soda by his side
and a cigarette in his mouth, sat the missing officer. Much indignation
was expressed and explanations followed, but, in future, it was only in
the last extremity that search parties were instituted!

Thus the days sped by, until it came to the minds of those in authority
that the Division had vegetated quite long enough in this area, and, at
the beginning of February, we were pulled out and transferred to
another sphere of activity.

Everyone regretted leaving this peaceful spot, and the period we spent
there was always looked back upon as the brightest and happiest time of
our sojourn in France.



CHAPTER IV.
In “The Salient.”


It soon became known that we were bound for Ypres. This town will,
without doubt, be the Mecca in France of the British soldier for all
time. This place, above all others, was always mentioned with a voice
of reverence and awe, and is hallowed by the presence of the gallant
dead who helped in its defence. It was truly the most ill-favoured
sector on the whole of the front held by our armies.

Proceeding by way of Hazebrouck and Cassel, we entered the area
immediately behind the Salient and took up our quarters near the
village of Arneke, for we were not yet due for our spell of duty in the
line. At this time the weather was most unpropitious, and rendered
training in any shape or form out of the question. The ground was
covered with snow to the depth of several inches, and the roads were,
for the most part, frost-bound. A Divisional Artillery Horse Show was
organised, however, and great keenness was displayed by all the
batteries, who spent most of their time horse coping until the day of
the event, which was held at Zeggers Capelle. Our Right Section
Commander, with a team of fine little blacks, managed to secure the
second prize in the principal event.

Several days afterwards we relieved the Division who were holding the
left centre of the Salient, and took up our position on the northern
extremity of Ypres itself, close to the Dead End of the Canal, a short
distance from “Salvation Corner.” Here a short description of the
position is imperative, in order to give some idea of the awkward
nature of this sector and of the conditions attaching thereto. The
distance between the jaws of the Salient was some five miles
across—from the banks of the Yser Canal at Boesinghe on the north to
the neighbourhood of St. Eloi on the south, while the ground held by us
extended about two and-a half miles east of Ypres in a semi-circle.
Nearly everywhere the enemy was established on rising ground and
overlooked our territory, and, with few exceptions, all that was
visible to us was his first line system. The enemy was thus enabled to
detect any movement behind our line, while we were more or less
“blind.”

Owing to the confined space through which an entrance into the Salient
could be effected, great difficulty was experienced in the matter of
transport, as there was only one main artery, namely, the
Ypres-Poperinghe road. Every evening at dusk this thoroughfare was
crowded with all manner of vehicles, an endless stream, coming and
going throughout the night, and from Vlamertinghe onwards the road was
subjected to constant shelling, and was enfiladed from either side.
Piles of wreckage were always to be seen on the following morning,
which told the tale of the previous night’s work, and this long,
straight piece of road holds more sentiment for the British soldier
than any other.

It was soon quite evident that the enemy was acquainted with our
location, and it was imperative to prepare an alternative position. A
site was chosen across the road, in the garden of a private villa, well
sheltered by shrubs and trees. As soon as the work was completed and a
communication trench constructed, covered with turf and plants, we
commenced moving the guns. This was done without interference from the
enemy until the last gun was in the act of being placed in position,
when, as luck would have it, a shrapnel shell burst in front of the
party, mortally wounding one layer and injuring another. Our B.C.,
also, who was assisting, received a bullet through his arm, and was
forced to leave us. This was the second mishap we had suffered during
the course of the first few days, as the Right Section Commander had
already been lost to us. Having an insatiable thirst for knowledge,
this Officer had left the O.P. with his telephonist in order to explore
the front line, which, as everyone who knows the Salient will readily
own, was somewhat difficult to recognise in places, especially by a
newcomer. Suffering as he did from acute absent-mindedness, it was not
surprising that this zealous officer awakened suddenly from his
day-dreams to discover that something was wrong, and found himself
standing with his companion waist high in a shallow disused trench,
which, on further investigation, appeared uncommonly like “No Man’s
Land!” After a brief consultation, they decided to retrace their steps.
Alas! all too late: a hostile sniper, reserving his fire in the hope
that they would continue to walk into the enemy trenches, on seeing
them turn about, and thus being baulked of his prize and the prospect
of a fortnight’s leave in his own country, fired a bullet which passed
through the thighs of both men one after the other. A party of our
infantry, unable to attract their attention and put them right in time,
had witnessed this little drama, and proceeded, at great personal risk
and at the expense of at least one of their number being wounded, to
extricate the two unfortunates and convey them to the nearest dressing
station. It was not until a late hour that night that word came to us
at the Mess that the missing party had been passed through the prison
at Ypres, on their way to a C.C.S. Now, our Battery Commander, after
great trouble, had lately gained possession of an improved type of
periscope, which he had been persuaded to lend the F.O.O. on that day,
and, on receipt of this news, his first thought was for the safety of
his precious instrument. The fact that two valuable casualties had
resulted did not seem to weigh with him in the least compared with its
loss, and he was not to be consoled until it was ascertained that the
periscope was in safe keeping. Only then could he be persuaded to make
enquiries as to the nature of their wounds and express his sorrow at
their misfortune.

The Infantry found the trenches in an appalling state, and forthwith
proceeded to repair them, but the enemy would not allow this to go on
long, and, after a few days’ work had been spent on them, a couple of
hours’ bombardment would suffice to demolish anything that had been
done. As it was a case of labour lost, all attempts at building on a
large scale were soon abandoned.

Many interesting excursions were made in and around the town. There was
a certain amount of splendour about the ruined place. The high battered
remains of the Cloth Hall Tower stood up in proud defiance in the
centre of the stricken city, while the ancient ramparts surrounding it
gloried in their battle scars and showed a dauntless front to the
enemy.

A good deal of annoyance was caused in getting about from place to
place through the uncongenial presence of a couple of hostile high
velocity guns which were commonly known as “Quick Dick” and “Silent
Sue,” his consort. They were so named on account of the rapidity with
which the shells arrived, and there was little or no warning of their
coming. Their chief object was to harass the neighbourhood, for they
appeared to have no definite target but just dropped a shell here and
there, trapping the unwary and doing considerable damage, as well as
effectively raising a certain amount of “wind”!

As conditions suited the enemy admirably, many raids were made by him,
and, on one occasion, he launched four simultaneously, one on each
sector of the Salient, after a sharp and heavy bombardment. He attacked
us between Wieltje and Potijge, but was unsuccessful in his endeavour
to obtain an identification. The attempt was frustrated, and the only
result was that he left a number of prisoners in our hands.

About the middle of May, the Division came out and returned to the area
behind Poperinghe. There was an unexpected treat in store for the
Brigade, for it was shortly sent down to the coast for a change of air.
A two days’ march brought the Battery to Cap Gris Nez, while the other
batteries were distributed along the small villages between Calais and
Boulogne. It was a real holiday for us, and a better part of the year
could not have been chosen. All that was expected of us was to exercise
the “hairies,” which we did by taking the guns a walk along the hard
sand in the early mornings.

A large field was secured, and for several hours daily the horses were
put out to grass, and, if ever animals showed signs of joy, they
certainly did, and their antics were most amusing to witness. It was
expected that some difficulty would be experienced in catching them
again, but, after the first day, a trumpet call was all that was
required. On hearing the sound, they would throw up their heads, and
then slowly wander towards the entrance, where the drivers awaited and
secured them.

The main feature of the day was, undoubtedly, the bathing parade,
enjoyed equally by man and beast. The horses knew at once what was in
store for them when they were led down to the beach. The men stripped,
and, mounting the eager horses, a wild dash was made for the water, and
quite a number of the animals proved themselves excellent swimmers,
many remaining a considerable time in deep water. On leaving the sea,
they would gallop along the sands, showing every sign of contentment,
and we were glad that, at last, they were receiving some reward for
their patient devotion and faithful service, for we were all fond of
our four-legged comrades.

Amusements were instituted for the men—all manner of sports by day and
concerts in the evenings. The officers lived out of doors, attracted by
the cliffs, from which Dover was visible on most clear days, and
everyone voted this peaceful place the next best thing to home leave.

It was, therefore, with much regret that, at the end of twelve days, we
retraced our steps to Arneke, where we were to remain for the latter
portion of the rest.

We had no sooner arrived at this place than the enemy started making
himself unpleasant in the southern portion of the Salient, and,
attacking the Canadians from Hooge as far as St. Eloi, succeeded in
driving them back some distance before he was finally held up. It was
quite imperative to retake the ground lost, as he had captured
important points of observation overlooking the Salient. A counter
attack was set on foot, and we were suddenly called upon to help in the
preliminary bombardment and cover the assaulting troops, which included
a Brigade of Guards. Just before setting off, our B.C. rejoined us once
more, and at two hours’ notice we made a beeline for the scene of our
future activity. At dusk we entered the ruins of Ypres, and, without
delay, proceeded to dig ourselves “in,” behind a convent, not far from
the south side of the Cloth Hall.

Owing to the number of extra batteries assembled for the operations, we
found ourselves without a billet until the genial Commander of a
Pioneer Battalion, affectionately known to the entire Dominion Forces
as “Big Jim,” and credited with innumerable deeds of “daring do,” took
pity upon us, and invited us to share his hearth and home. This offer
we gratefully accepted, and accommodation was also provided for the
detachment, and all were made most comfortable.

The bombardment continued for three days, and it became clear, from the
enemy’s counter preparations, that he was not going to give up his
newly acquired gains without a struggle. A most stubborn resistance was
offered, and the infantry were forced to fight hard for every foot of
ground that was eventually recovered. The bombardment grew in intensity
as the zero hour approached. Shortly after midnight, the men went over,
and, by breakfast time, had gained all that was required of them,
except at one or two points, which were taken without much trouble
later.

By the time affairs had settled down normally again, the Division was
due in the line, so the Battery pulled out for one night, before
transferring to our new zone, which was in the most northerly sector,
adjoining the one in which we had already been, and which had an even
worse reputation for unpleasantness.

After crossing the Yser Canal, the ground gradually rises towards
Pilkem Ridge, and the enemy was ensconced thereon in a kind of
stronghold known as the High Command Redoubt. Our trenches lay beneath
them, which gave us the feeling of being in a cup encircled round the
brim by our foes. During this particular tour, the Battery was split up
for the purpose of forming two forward sections, and the greater part
of the firing was done by the left section, whose position was well
inside the Salient. Its chief object was to harass a certain portion of
a hostile trench which was taken in enfilade by it! In order to
accomplish this successfully, the guns were placed in an old disused
position in a field, near La Brique, on the backward slope of a hill,
and the low gun-pits were completely covered with tufts of growing
grass. The centre pits were occupied by the two pieces and the outside
ones were speedily converted into habitations for the men.

When the trenches were not being subjected to hostile shelling, the
enemy devoted most of his time in endeavouring to destroy the numerous
O.P.’s dotted about here and there. These were constructed for the most
part of reinforced concrete, but the particular one used by us, called
“Frascatis,” had not yet been discovered, so we were free to carry out
shoots to our heart’s content.

A favourite diversion was sniping with one of our pieces, which was a
particularly accurate one, and several points of observation and
snipers’ posts were carefully registered. Then we would lie in wait,
observe some movement, and let fly one round only. This method
exasperated and annoyed the enemy exceedingly.

One of the enemy’s principal forms of amusement was to blow parts of
our front parapet away and train a machine gun on the space left
vacant, and snipe at any unsuspecting person who happened to pass
along. On many occasions we were able to bring assistance to the
harassed infantrymen, by spotting the offending snipers, and by, in
turn, sniping at them with our “How.” till we finally silenced them.

At dusk the enemy invariably harassed all roads of communication, and
dropped innumerable shells of large calibre into the stricken city; and
we made a habit of sitting at the entrance to the little shack, used as
the officers’ mess, smoking our evening pipes, interested spectators,
while the shells screamed overhead, and alighted somewhere in the town,
sending up columns of brick dust.

All the batteries in the line were now busy constructing new battery
positions, while fresh O.P.’s were also erected, and it was thought
that these preparations were preparatory to making an attack to enable
us to improve our position by the capture of Pilkem Ridge, but,
although the work was completed, nothing further developed.

Soon there were whispers of an impending gigantic attack away down in
the south, and for several days before the opening of it our shelling
was considerably increased, while the infantry made a series of raids.
This was done throughout the whole length of the front, in order to
keep the enemy from guessing the exact point of eruption, and we had a
warm time in consequence. For a long time after the battle had
commenced, we continued making demonstrations, which undoubtedly helped
to prevent the removal of many reserves from the locality.

But we were not content to remain here. There was a great scrap taking
place elsewhere, and were we going to be left completely out of it, to
eat our heads off, in Flanders? It seemed very unlikely that the
Division would not be called upon on such an occasion, and great was
the joy when one day orders came through that we were soon to proceed
to the scene of action. Within two days we pulled out to our old
resting place, where preparations were completed for our transference
to the battle area.

Our first acquaintance with the dreaded Salient was at an end, and,
although the time spent there was always strenuous and difficult, we
were not what could be called uncomfortable, and our casualties happily
did not exceed expectations.



CHAPTER V.
On the Somme.


At the beginning of August, the Division detrained in the neighbourhood
of Doullens, and, proceeding in a southeasterly direction, the Brigade
established itself near the small village of Couin. In a few days’ time
we went “in,” and the Battery took up a position on the southern
outskirts of Hebuterne, overlooking the enemy stronghold at Serre. This
portion of the front was now in a normal state once more, as, on the
opening day of the great battle, the British assault from Hamel,
northward to Gommecourt, had met with no success, and the attack was
not further pressed. The enemy was content to remain quiet, and most of
the firing was carried out by us. A considerable number of hostile
“Minnies” made conditions somewhat unpleasant for the infantry in the
trenches, and during the night the battery position was subjected to
indirect machine-gun fire, which necessitated a certain amount of
caution in moving about. The O.P.’s were well placed, and afforded us
an excellent view, for we overlooked the enemy’s lines, and could see
some distance beyond them. We were now on the fringe of the battle, and
away half right, on clear days, we could see the struggle progressing,
as a considerable dent had already been made. The sight was a very
grand one, especially after dark. The Verey Lights and various S.O.S.
rockets, which were frequently sent up by our opponents, made a fine
spectacular display, far finer than any firework exhibition we had ever
witnessed in our own country in pre-war days.

Gradually the Division was side-slipped to the south, and our next
position was close to the station of Mailly. We did not remain there
long, however, as the time had now arrived for us to put in an
appearance in the battle itself. We spent one night close to Amiens,
and availed ourselves of the opportunity to hold a dinner there, which
was attended by all the original officers in the Brigade—a last night
of fun and merriment before the long, stiff fight ahead of us, for who
knew how many would survive the ordeal. The next day brought us to
Vaux, on the River Somme, and, in the first week in September, we found
ourselves immersed in the battle. We took up our first position in the
lately captured second line German system, facing Montauban and
covering Guillemont, which had just been taken by an Irish Division.

Very stiff lighting was in progress on this sector, as we were now
nearing the summit of the Ridge, the possession of which would be
invaluable, as the enemy’s territory would be laid bare to us, and he
would lose his observation over us. It was not surprising, therefore,
that he fought with the courage of despair and initiated counter-attack
upon counter-attack, all of which we had to meet with great
determination. The weather was extremely hot, which added much to the
discomfort: and, as progress had been very slow for some time, it was
impossible to clear up the battlefield, and the stench was almost
insupportable. At length the village of Guinchy was captured, and, with
our men installed on the further side of the slope, the fighting for
position came to an end. We were now entering on the third stage of the
great battle, which had commenced more than two months previously. An
attack, on a large scale, was planned, the object being to drive the
enemy down the slope of the hill into the low-lying country beyond.
Field batteries were moved up into forward positions, in order to
assist the infantry, by placing a creeping barrage—a new and most
successful invention, afterwards employed on all occasions—in front of
the advancing waves of men: and the “heavies,” of which, for the first
time, we possessed a preponderance, pounded the enemy communications
far behind his lines.

The assault was delivered over a wide area, early in the morning of the
15th of September, but in no way did it come up to expectations—in
fact, it might almost be counted a reverse. Some divisions did well,
and took their objectives, but others were completely held up, at
certain strong points, which necessitated the withdrawal of the
remainder, in order to keep the line uniform. The Guards met with
instant success, and took their final objectives, only to discover that
the Division on each side of them had made little progress and could
get no further. They were reluctantly forced to return, and it was
while doing so that heavy casualties were inflicted on them, as they
were raked with fire from the sides as well as in front. During the
withdrawal, a party of machine-gunners occupied a trench, and attempted
to screen the retirement of the main body of troops, by holding the
enemy at bay. In order to use this machine-gun to the best advantage,
the piece was placed on top of the parapet, exposed to the full view of
the oncoming hordes, but our men never wavered in serving it, and, as
soon as one gunner dropped at his post, another instantly took the
vacant place, although it meant certain death within a few moments.

Next day they were pulled out to refit, and, as they marched back to
rest, a very touching sight was witnessed. A certain battalion, a mere
remnant, swung along, headed by its band. All the officers had become
casualties, and the Battalion Sergeant-Major was in command, but as
many of the dead officers as could be recovered were brought back on
stretchers and placed each in his proper position. Headed by the body
of their late Commander, the column proceeded on its way, the men
marching at attention, and, although covered with mud and
blood-stained, they might have been proceeding down the Mall. Such is
the discipline of the Guards, and every tribute of respect was paid
them by the troops through whom they passed.

The next battle was timed for the 25th inst., and our infantry came
back to the line a couple of days before that date. There was much
suppressed excitement and curiosity, for the mysterious Tanks were to
participate on this occasion for the first time, and it was thought
that the secret had been so well kept that they would come as a
complete surprise to the enemy. This proved to be the case, and the
attack was a great success. What was known as the Flers line was
everywhere penetrated, and all gains were held. The Tanks did splendid
work. They advanced well ahead of the infantry, and battered down
barbed wire, overran trenches, smashed machine-gun emplacements,
killing the gun crews, and even waddled as far as the village of
Gueudecourt. There they effected much execution and caused great panic
among the enemy reserves, which were concentrating for the inevitable
counter attack.

Thus the battle continued, sometimes breaking out into fierce fights
and at other times reduced to isolated scraps, but all the time the
enemy was being gradually and relentlessly pushed down into the valley,
and the villages of Morval, Les Boeufs, and Gueudecourt fell into our
hands.

It was almost uncanny the way in which villages would completely
disappear. For instance, at the time when these hamlets first came
within our vision, on our reaching the crest of the hill, they appeared
almost intact, but a few days rendered them unrecognisable—they had
become merely so many heaps of rubble. There are many places on the
Somme which have literally not one brick standing on top of another,
and one would never imagine for a moment that a prosperous little
village had ever existed there.

Many changes of battery positions were made, and, whenever possible, we
burrowed down into the ground, as the enemy’s heavy pieces were out
after our blood. The great concentration of guns and the few suitable
localities for placing them in action added to our difficulties, and we
were thus rendered an easy target for the hostile counter batteries.
Innumerable brigades were huddled close together, in what was known as
the Death Valley, for the simple reason that there was no other
suitable spot wherein to place them, and heavy casualties resulted. We
had the good fortune, however, to be somewhat isolated from the others,
and occupied a forward position, where the guns were hidden in an old
German communication trench. The enemy never found it, but subjected
us, now and again, to a general burst of harassing fire: his main
volume of hate passed us by far overhead.

And, meanwhile, what of our friend the F.O.O.? In those days his lot
was by no means an enviable one, and it was a task of no mean magnitude
to keep communications going between the trenches and the guns.
However, it had to be done, or at least attempted, and the following is
a brief account of a typical day in the life of a gunner subaltern.

Orders would be given that a certain hostile trench was to be subjected
to a severe, annihilating bombardment, and this necessitated the laying
out of a wire to a part of our front line, from which the shoot could
be registered, as the target could not be observed from any other
locality than the trench immediately opposite it. The F.O.O. rises
early in the morning, and sets out with his little squad of
telephonists and linesmen. He requires to post a signalman and linesman
at frequent intervals, called Relay Stations, in order to preserve
communication, as the wire is being continually broken by hostile
gun-fire. Progress, in a case like this, is necessarily slow, and he
has to pick his way among the shell-holes, seeking as much protection,
for the line, as circumstances will permit. The signallers follow in
his footsteps, staggering along under the weight of a large reel of
wire. All goes well until they reach the summit of a ridge, when,
suddenly, a barrage from a “whizz bang” battery is placed right down on
top of the party. There is nothing for it but to remain crouched in a
friendly shell-hole, which affords a little protection, until the storm
blows over or to risk the chances of being hit in the open. The journey
is then resumed, and much relief is felt when at last the ground over a
nasty dip is traversed without mishap, as this is known to be a
favourite target for hostile gunners. A muddy, unkempt
communication-trench is now entered, and the party proceed, up a slope,
towards the support system, and eventually arrive at their
destination—a post in the front line overlooking its objective.
Difficulty is experienced in preserving the wire from the unguarded
feet of infantrymen, who look askance at the party as it passes,
cursing the idiosyncrasies of each fire bay. The instrument is
connected with the end of the wire, and all hold their breath in order
to hear the answering buzz which tells them that they are through to
the battery. Several futile buzzes may be made by the telephonist, and
then, no response being forthcoming, a linesman is sent down the wire
towards the first relay station. A break in the wire is discovered and
speedily mended, the next attempt is successful, and the battery is
called to action.

During registration the wire often breaks, and serious delays occur,
but, at length, the last gun is duly pronounced O.K. by the officer.
Just in the nick of time, too! for the enemy commences a sharp
retaliation on the portion of the trench occupied by the little party.
Refuge is sought in an old enemy shaft close by, and there it awaits
the time for the “show” to commence. Several other batteries also take
part in the shoot, and it is quite impossible to pick out the shells
which belong to each one as they fall. Complete success crowns the
effort, but on the particular day here described the F.O.O. and party
failed to see the end of the bout, as they were subjected to very heavy
fire, and were all blown down the mouth of the shaft by the explosion
of a shell. Luckily, though badly shaken, all escaped without injury.

Meanwhile the wire has been broken in many places and is beyond repair,
but it has already served its purpose, and, when fire has died down,
the party starts on the return journey. On arriving at the first relay
station, the telephonist on duty is found dead at his post, the
receiver still clutched in his hand and held to his ear. A nasty gash
in the forehead reveals the place where he has been hit and instantly
killed. His companion is nowhere to be found, although bloodstains
denote that he has at least been wounded, and, on investigation, it is
ascertained that the linesman has been hit, picked up by passing
comrades, and taken to an aid-post. The journey is resumed, the party
carrying the dead with them, and presently another hostile barrage is
encountered. Again the men lie low until it ceases, and then pick up
the remaining linesmen, and return to the battery utterly exhausted.
Many questions are asked, and it frequently happens that the F.O.O. is
cursed by his Battery Commander for not keeping the wire going, and
even the Brigade joins in the chorus. The young officer pays little
heed, and inwardly reflects that they should be extremely thankful that
communication was established at all, and that those of the party who
returned did so in safety. So, in spite of everything, he consumes a
hearty dinner and retires to bed, sleeping the sleep of the just, and
soon becomes oblivious of all his little worries and sombre
surroundings.

Towards the middle of October the weather broke, and conditions became
intolerable. The roads, which had been partially repaired, were still
soft and broken, and developed into quagmires—mud and water to a depth
of two and three feet made vehicular traffic almost out of the
question. All ammunition had to be transported to the guns by means of
horses carrying pack saddles, a slow and tedious method, which took a
lot out of men and beasts alike. As yet no decca-ville railways had
been constructed as far as battery positions. Very heavy work thus fell
on those at the wagon lines, who were kept busy most of the day and
night. Although the distance to the gun position was under five miles
there and back, the journey rarely took less than ten hours to
accomplish. If a horse fell down in this sticky mud, heavily laden as
it was, attempts at rescue proved unavailing, except on rare occasions,
even with the aid of drag-ropes, and the unfortunate animal had to be
“dispatched.” Was it a sense of humour that prompted those in authority
to send the subalterns, in turn, to the wagon lines for a “rest”?
Anyhow, it was considered anything but that by the poor unfortunates
who went, and right glad they were when the time came round for their
next period of duty with the guns!

As the weather rapidly became worse, operations came to a standstill,
and all proceeded to dig themselves in for the coming winter. Every
endeavour was made to make our quarters water-proof, as well as
shell-proof, and some attempts at mining were commenced, but the
condition of the ground was all against such an undertaking, and the
work was abandoned. Then whispers spread abroad that we were to be
relieved for a short rest, and, after ten weeks of incessant fighting,
we were withdrawn from the line and marched to a little village named
Hangest, a few miles west of Amiens. There we were glad to find
ourselves installed in billets with a roof covering us once more. A
week of leisure helped greatly to restore our spirits, and again we set
out for the line. Our destination this time was Combles, and we took
over a battery position from the French, who politely made us
acquainted with our new surroundings. Our allies, who had been fighting
side-by-side with us on our right flank throughout the great battle,
were then withdrawn, and the British front was extended to the south as
far as the banks of the River Somme. Evidence was speedily forthcoming
to convince us of the severe nature of the recent fight. The ground was
strewn with wreckage and material of all descriptions, and many hostile
guns were found abandoned or lying where they had been put out of
action by the irresistible dash of the Poilus.

The country, in this part, was undulating, and better suited to the
concealment of battery positions, and nowhere was the enemy able to
overlook our territory. Our area included the defence of the joint
villages of Sailly-Saillisel, situated on commanding ground, which the
French had recently bravely stormed. Combles, too, which lay in a basin
shaped hollow, was interesting as having been the centre of supplies
for the southern portion of the German Army operating in the battle,
and much booty was discovered in the huge catacombs which ran
underneath the town.

’Xmas passed in much the same way as in the previous year. A smart
bombardment was carried out in the morning in order to advise the enemy
that anything in the way of fraternising would not be countenanced by
us. At mid-day the men partook of their ’Xmas fare, which had been
fetched from Amiens, and a short service was conducted by the Padre in
one of the gun-pits. A slight disturbance took place at dusk, when the
S.O.S. went up from the front line and all batteries immediately opened
out. It seemed a rather extraordinary occurrence, as the evening was
unusually quiet, and, presently, it was discovered to have arisen
through an error, due to the fact that the enemy had put up a coloured
light in between two ordinary Verey lights which constituted our own
S.O.S.

About this time the enemy caused considerable annoyance to a certain
Battalion Headquarters, situated in a quarry close behind the lines, by
occasionally dropping a shell right into it, the position having
probably been discovered by his aircraft. Retaliation tactics were
adopted, which consisted of subjecting the hostile trenches to a sharp
half-hour’s bombardment from eight batteries, firing a total of 2,000
rounds. The enemy was well known to be very thick-skinned, but these
measures met with instant success, and it was only necessary to remind
him once again that we were not to be trifled with in this way.

After the New Year, a severe spell of frost set in, with an occasional
heavy fall of snow, and we were somewhat annoyed when orders came
through to sideslip our position further south, as we had made our
quarters fairly comfortable by this time, and expected to remain
undisturbed throughout the winter. The new position was situated behind
the ruined village of Rancourt, facing St. Pierre Vaast wood, and was
one of the worst and most disagreeable localities it was ever our lot
to occupy, as we were, more or less, water-logged the whole of our time
there. Much difficulty was experienced by both friend and foe in
entering their respective front line, so much so that, by common
consent, sniping by rifle fire was discontinued until parapets were
constructed and made fit for occupation. However, sniping was still
indulged in by the artillery, and no parties of any size were permitted
to go about freely near the front line under observation. Affairs
continued thus until the middle of February, when it became apparent
that something unusual was taking place in enemy territory, and great
explosions were heard, after which volumes of smoke were seen to rise
in large columns. These, as was afterwards proved, were due to
preparations being made by the enemy to evacuate the low-lying country,
into which they had reluctantly been forced, as the result of the
battle of the Somme, prior to falling back upon the great prepared
defences known as the Hindenburg Line.

Instantly every one was on the alert for further signs of evacuation,
and one morning a patrol reported that the enemy had vacated their
front line. Further patrols were at once pushed out, through St. Pierre
Vaast wood, in order to maintain contact with the retreating foe. Every
precaution had to be taken, as it was soon discovered that many forms
of booby-traps had been cunningly laid by him in his wake, and progress
was necessarily slow. Added to this, there was great difficulty in
manœuvring the guns over the innumerable trenches which existed in the
neighbourhood, and the pieces sank up to their axles in the clogging
mud, and were only extricated after hours of labour. The enemy retired
slowly and most methodically, destroying everything of value and
wantonly reducing the small villages and hamlets to mere shells, by
means of incendiary bombs. The inhabitants also were removed
beforehand, and, when the troops advanced, they might have been
traversing a wilderness, so complete was the ruin and desolation on all
sides.

The time had now arrived for the Brigade to have a much-needed rest and
also to refit, so, at the end of March, we were withdrawn from the
contest. Marching westward, we arrived at the village of Morlancourt in
the first week of April, well content at the prospect of returning to
civilization for a protracted period.

Division from Brigade R.F.A. Guards Division.” “Division from Brigade
R.F.A. Guards Division.”



CHAPTER VI.
Messines.


It was not long before those in authority discovered that the
neighbourhood of Morlancourt was peculiarly favourable for the carrying
out of manœuvres, with the result that a period of “intensive training”
set in. Drill orders took place four days a week, and batteries were
specially trained in the methods of open warfare, while many hours were
devoted to tactical schemes.

At this time units were reorganised, all batteries were increased to
six guns, and there was plenty of work to keep everyone busy. The
narrator of these rambling notes, after a period of two years’ service
with the Brigade, here transferred his allegiance to the sister
howitzer battery of the Division, known as “The Grey Battery,” from the
fact that all the horses were of that colour. Sentiment ran strong for
his “old love” and those he was obliged to leave, but he was already
well acquainted with both officers and men of his new unit, and soon
settled down happily amongst them.

All guns were carefully calibrated on a range due west of Peronne, and
the “hairies” picked up rapidly in condition, owing to the good care
and attention that was bestowed upon them. The big battles of Vimy
Ridge and Arras were now in full swing, and it seemed unlikely that we
would be called upon to take any part in them so late in the day.

Many forms of amusement were created for the men, and football matches,
both “rugger” and “soccer,” were freely indulged in between batteries
and brigades, while the full regimental band of one of the Guards’
regiments was kindly lent to the Divisional Artillery. It gave many a
fine entertainment in the evenings.

Time thus sped by at an amazing rate, and various visits of inspection
paid us by officers from the C.R.A. up to the Army Commander made it
very apparent that we were undoubtedly being “fattened up”—but for
what? The question was more than we could answer, but speculations were
rife as to our possible destination, for we knew that the Somme would
see us no more—in the meantime, at all events.

Six weeks had come and gone, and yet we remained inactive in this
peaceful village; then sudden orders were issued for us to be ready to
entrain at short notice, and, in the second week of May, the Battery
glided out of the station at Meulte prepared for anything. A long and
circuitous route was taken _via_ Amiens, Abbeville, Etaples, Boulogne,
Calais, St. Omer, and at length we arrived at Arques, near which we
remained, in billets, for some considerable time. It was while we were
there that we learnt that it was the intention of the British Commander
to gain possession of the great Messines Ridge, which towered over our
lines, and was a stronghold of inestimable value to the enemy.

As long as he held this ridge, which was the keystone of his armies in
Flanders, he was immune from any vulnerable attack on our part, and was
free to launch any offensive operation from it by using it as a
stepping-off place. Added to this, the northern end of the heights
afforded him an uninterrupted view of the southern portion of the Ypres
salient, which was a source of great annoyance to our forces on that
part of the front. It was vital, therefore, for the future operations
of the British Armies, that this important ridge should be captured and
kept in our hands.

Preparations were accordingly set on foot, and artillery of all calibre
was silently concentrated from all parts, and proceeded to dig itself
in for the coming fray. For a long time this sector had been free from
any serious operations, and was considered a kind of resting place for
exhausted troops, but soon the peace and quiet of the neighbourhood was
to receive a rude awakening, when the tide of battle broke out upon it
once more.

Proceeding through Hazebrouck and Bailleul, the Brigade arrived at its
wagon lines, a short distance west of Neuve Eglise, and immediately
each battery sent work parties to the scene of action, in order to
construct emplacements and make its position habitable. The spot
allotted to our battery was in a little hollow close to the cut roads,
near the small ruined village of Wulverghen. Our front line was placed
on the top of an undulating rise, with the ridge itself beyond.

Our principal business was to avoid attracting the attention of the
enemy to our preparations, and in this we were aided by the fact that
there was a considerable amount of cover beside us, in the form of
trees and undergrowth, the foliage of which was now in full leaf.

Row upon row of batteries were placed in position behind hedges, or
artificially concealed, the barrels of the pieces peeping out from all
imaginable lurking places. The Divisional Artillery was situated in the
most advanced position, the 18 pr. batteries ranging from within 600 to
1,000 yards of the front line, with the howitzer batteries immediately
behind them. On account of our proximity to the enemy, the two brigades
had orders to remain silent until the day of the show, and we were only
allowed to fire enough rounds to enable us to carefully register the
pieces, and this was completed without giving away any of the
positions.

All ammunition was conveyed to the guns by night, and was distributed
in small quantities near to them. Before long the enemy became alive to
the fact that we were contemplating some move, and consequently
increased his devastating fire by night, with the result that many
dumps in the vicinity were exploded by him. He was bound to hit
something, the countryside was so packed with all manner of ammunition.
He had no idea, however, of the magnitude of our coming effort, and
firmly believed his position to be impregnable, and that it was beyond
our power to free ourselves from his grip.

He contented himself with drenching our little valley with chemical
shell whenever conditions were favourable, but so accustomed were the
men to their gas masks that no serious consequences resulted, although
it was distinctly unpleasant to have to pass each night enveloped in
these stuffy contrivances, especially as the weather remained hot and
oppressive.

The Battery had more than their average share of good fortune
throughout these operations, and it is worthy of putting on record that
the unit did not sustain a single casualty to either man or horse. This
was all the more remarkable as the engineers had constructed a wide
plank road, which passed through the centre of our position, and could
not be concealed from our foes, who lavishly besprinkled it with
shrapnel after dark. Many casualties were caused to the transport, and
the Officers’ Mess virtually became an aid-post, where every assistance
was rendered the wounded men.

Our sister howitzer battery was lined up alongside of us, and, when the
two positions were first inspected, much chaff ensued as to which had
the better place, and the men of our battery were certainly all of the
opinion that, had the selection devolved upon them, we would
unanimously have plumped for the other one. They had no landmarks
likely to attract hostile fire, and thus occasion them the unpleasant
sensation of living on top of a volcano, while we were slap-bang in the
middle of a conspicuous cross road, with a constant stream of traffic
coming and going through: yet, so strange and fickle are the fortunes
of war that, while we escaped unharmed, our comrades next door suffered
a heavy gruelling.

The preliminary bombardment commenced, and continued throughout five
days, but, in order to deceive the enemy as to our weight of artillery,
not more than fifty per cent. of the guns in the line were allowed to
take part at one time. A row of O.P.’s had been constructed on Hill 65,
which overlooked the valley and town of Messines. A fine sight was
witnessed as that stronghold was gradually reduced to a mere shell by
our heavies, which effected extraordinarily good work in smashing the
elaborate structures of the enemy’s defence.

The preparations were all that could be desired, and everything was
carefully worked out to the minutest detail: not a stone was left
unturned to render the operations a complete success. The labour and
expense was well rewarded too, for surely no battle ever ran so
smoothly from first to last, and it will always be looked back upon by
the British soldier as a model of triumphant organisation. The battle
only lasted a single day, but in that time the formidable network of
trenches was neatly and clearly shorn off, and the enemy, who relied so
much on the security of these positions, found himself suddenly pushed
down the slope into unsuitable ground, where he could no longer be a
menace to us.

The “feet” of our Division were not in the line, being held in reserve,
and, as it turned out, they were not called upon at all at this
juncture, so well did the course of the battle progress. We were
covering the infantry of an English Division, and, on the evening
previous to the attack, the troops passed us noiselessly and in perfect
order on their way to their various points of assembly. All were in
excellent spirits, which augured well for the next day, and a feeling
of calm confidence appeared to prevail amongst them. A stream of gas
and tear shells was maintained by the foe throughout the night, but it
was mostly directed on the zone which contained the battery positions,
consequently the infantry was caused little inconvenience.

Early the following morning, shortly before dawn, the attack was
heralded by the explosion of the mines, which had been in course of
preparation for months beforehand. This was the sign for the guns to
open out, and the assault was launched from north of St. Eloi in the
Salient to the neighbourhood of Ploegsterte in the south, the men
following close in the wake of the now familiar and popular creeping
barrage.

The force of the explosions was terrific, and the vibration was felt
far and wide; even strong concrete “pill-boxes” were swung to and fro,
and the occupants were tossed from side to side as if they were on
board ship in a rough sea. Some indication of the colossal nature of
these upheavals may be gauged from the fact that the craters were, in
some cases, more than 200 ft. in diameter, and that the earth thrown up
obliterated every hostile trench in the vicinity, completely burying
the unfortunate garrisons who manned them.

At the same moment the sky was lit up by all manner of S.O.S. lights
and the innumerable flashes from our guns, which were now showing their
maximum strength for the first time. They belched forth concentrated
death, the roar reached such a deafening crescendo that conversation
was entirely out of the question—indeed it was impossible to hear one’s
own voice. However, the scene was truly impressive, and the grandeur
was beyond anything hitherto seen.

As daylight crept in, the infantry were observed to be making rapid
progress, although, here and there, stiff opposition was encountered.
Soon the summit of the ridge was gained, and the men swept on and
disappeared over the crest, leaving the mopping-up parties to complete
their work. The Tanks bravely waddled up after them, in a vain effort
to keep up, for the attacking infantry went so fast, in the first
stages, that they easily outstripped those ponderous giants and left
them far behind.

Meanwhile the field batteries which had been in position farthest in
the rear, and so were already out of range, limbered up and dashed into
action in front of our Brigade. As soon as the next row was also out of
action, they too galloped past and took up their place again in “No
Man’s Land,” while the Engineers worked at their highest pressure to
pull down trenches and prepare the way for the gunners. Thus we were
able to give the fullest possible support to the infantry, and the fire
never ceased, while the men always found the creeping barrage laid down
in front of them.

Early on in the fray prisoners came dribbling back in a more or less
dazed condition, and, as they passed the array of guns, they paused and
gazed in evident wonder at the huge concentration—probably realising
how fortunate they were in escaping the fate of so many of their
comrades.

Now, the enemy, although he knew an attack was imminent, had failed to
anticipate the correct zero day, with the result that, on several
portions of this front, various reliefs were in process of taking place
at the actual time of the assault. The consequence was his defence was
thrown into a state of confusion, while the extra numbers in the trench
offered a double prey for the bayonets of our men, who were not slow in
seizing the chances thus afforded them.

The whole of the first objectives were quickly in our possession, as
well as the villages of Messines and Wytscheate, and there was a slight
pause to give a breathing space to the infantry, and to allow time for
the field guns to take up their allotted positions beyond the recently
captured enemy trenches, before entering upon the second and final
stage of the battle. When the creeping barrage, which had remained
stationary during this period, went forward once more, the infantry
encountered stronger opposition, but by this time the Tanks were well
up in support, and were instrumental in breaking up the machine-gun
nests and thus enabling the men to proceed up to schedule time.

The enemy lost a number of field artillery pieces, but had taken the
precaution to withdraw most of the heavy ones several days before, when
our bombardment commenced. His shooting, therefore, was rather wild and
erratic, as he evidently had not had sufficient time to register his
guns properly in the new positions. The result was that, fortunately
for us, most of his energy was misplaced, and, for a battle of this
magnitude, the casualties were not as heavy as might have been
expected.

By early afternoon the final objectives were everywhere in our hands,
and the work of consolidating the fruitful gains that the last few
hours had yielded was immediately begun.

Several counter-attacks were attempted by the enemy, but were not
pushed with much vigour, and no success was secured in that direction:
our infantry remained firm and could not be dislodged.

Trenches were swiftly constructed, the work proceeding without
intermission, and by evening the men were, more or less, securely “dug
in,” except in a few places where the line was slightly irregular, and
which was afterwards rectified by means of a small operation.

By the time the battle had finished we found ourselves the farthest
back Brigade in the line, the immense number of batteries which, at the
beginning, had been in our rear were now well in front of us, and on
this sector the Divisional Artillery were the only two Brigades who did
not move forward during the course of the fight. Moreover, by this time
we were firing almost at extreme range close to the enemy’s new front
line, which gives some idea of the distance our men covered.

The day had been an exhausting one for the gunners, and, in order to
give some indication of the work and labour they had been called upon
to do, our battery alone fired over 4000 rounds of ammunition. This was
by no means a bad performance when one takes into consideration that
each shell weighs 35 lbs., and necessitated a goodly amount of
manhandling, but the men all had their “peckers well up,” and displayed
much determination throughout.

For a few days following the battle there were a number of small
isolated scraps for positions, and one or two enemy counter-attacks,
before the new front settled down into something like normal conditions
again. Decca-ville and light railways were pushed up smartly by the
R.O.D., and the Engineers constructed new roads, while Labour
Battalions were busily employed repairing the old ones and clearing up
the litter of the battlefield.

Ever since we came into action it had been no secret that our stay in
this area would be of short duration, and that we were only to be
employed in the battle itself, and were only to remain as long as our
services were really required. It was no surprise when, five days
later, orders came through for us to withdraw from the line. We pulled
out back to our wagon line, and from there proceeded through Bailleul
to the little hamlet of Borre, a few miles east of Hazebrouck, where we
remained pending removal to our next destination. We all had the
feeling that our recent tour had been a great success, and were well
satisfied with the part we had taken in the operations, for this was
the first occasion on which we had witnessed a battle go smoothly,
without a hitch from start to finish, and was a great contrast to any
previous one in which we had participated.

A few days in rest sufficed to put the Brigade shipshape once more, and
we were now ready for the next bout. No delay was made in transferring
us to another neighbourhood, and we set out in a northerly direction,
which boded little good, for we knew that unpleasant events were
developing in that quarter.



CHAPTER VII.
Ypres Again.


In the middle of June the Division arrived in the neighbourhood of
Ypres, and at once took over from the Belgians from just below
Boesinghe northwards. We were thus back on familiar ground, as we had
occupied the next sector to the south in the previous year. Although we
were not actually in the Salient itself, we were situated at the
northern re-entrant to it. The Yser Canal constituted “No Man’s Land,”
the eastern bank of which was held by the enemy and the western by
ourselves.

The battery positions on this occasion were placed a considerable
distance behind, mainly around the village of Elverdinghe, as the enemy
had close observation and overlooked us from Pilkem Ridge. We did not
take long to discover that our opponents were well acquainted with the
situation of our new homes, for the majority of the batteries were
subjected at once to an avalanche of shells as soon as they opened fire
in order to register the guns. It became imperative for us to build
alternative positions or go elsewhere, while other sections moved
forward and undertook most of the firing. We had not been settled more
than a few days when the enemy suddenly conceived a violent attraction
for the house occupied by the officers’ mess, and, after several direct
hits had been made on it, we decided that the place was becoming too
hot, and searched round for a more suitable abode. We packed up, made a
hasty flight, and secured accommodation in a house which was
strengthened by concrete, but even there we had to be wary, especially
at night, for we were very close to a road fork, beloved by the enemy
gunners.

The majority of the O.P.’s were also obvious to the keen eyes of the
foe, who paid them much attention on every possible occasion, and it
was just as well for the occupants that they had been strongly
constructed with steel girders and concrete. On one occasion an
officer, doing a night O.P. duty, along with his telephonist, was
subjected to a full hour’s bombardment by two hostile batteries, which
fired salvoes regularly every minute. Next morning there was nothing
left of the house except the skeleton, with the O.P. structure standing
out defiant in bold relief in the midst of it.

These then were the conditions on this sector at the time of our taking
it over, and it will be seen that the enemy did more or less what he
chose, and was undoubtedly top dog as far as gunnery was concerned.
However, this was not to remain long so, as almost immediately
preparations were set on foot for the coming offensive, which had
already been decided upon.

A host of new O.P.’s were erected, new roads and light railways
constructed, while large working parties prepared fresh gun pits in
advanced positions, and all were carefully camouflaged where they were
exposed to enemy view. Every day new units arrived, and the country
appeared to be overrun with troops. Most of the forward work had to be
done during the night, and, as each position was completed, the guns
were silently concentrated. While this was in progress, the Divisional
Artillery only were maintained for the defence of the line, as it was
not advisable that the enemy should know until the last possible moment
that anything unusual was afoot. The scheme was a much more ambitious
one than that in which we had recently taken a part, and, if everything
went forward according to plan, it meant that we would be on the go for
a considerable time, and there even appeared to be a chance of getting
a taste of the long-talked-of open warfare.

About this time a most amusing episode was witnessed by one of our
Subalterns who was doing a liaison with the infantry at a battalion
headquarters. This place was situated most unpleasantly, and was well
known to the enemy, consequently accommodation had to be sought
underground as much as possible. While the F.O.O. and his companion,
the Intelligence Officer, were performing their ablutions early one
morning outside the mouth of the cellar, a Brigadier with his Staff
suddenly appeared on the scene to pay a visit to the Commander. The two
Staff Officers remained outside, and opened conversation with them. The
Intelligence Officer, being something of a wag, brandished his shaving
brush in one hand and with the other jocularly shoved the Staff Captain
down the steps into their retreat, and asked him what he thought of the
bedchamber. The other officer, although much amused, stood aghast, and,
after the visitors had departed, he asked his companion to whom he had
been speaking. He replied that he did not know, for, although the
Captain’s features appeared familiar, he could not “place” him, though
he was a jolly sort of chap anyhow. On being told that it was none
other than the Prince of Wales that he had been familiarly digging in
the ribs for the past quarter of an hour, he was incredulous, and
exclaimed, “And to think I nearly killed the youngster down these
stairs!”

At length preparations were completed, and the two Brigades of the
Divisional Artillery took up new advanced positions alongside the
reinforcing batteries already in line, while the heavies were thickly
aligned close in the rear. The preliminary bombardment broke out about
the middle of July, and at first it was keenly resented by the enemy,
who perceived that we were gradually wrestling the initiative from him,
but when, day after day, our fire continued unabated, he apparently
resigned himself to his fate. Hurricane shoots by field batteries soon
began to make a difference in the appearance of his trenches, and the
heavies, by means of aerial registration, demolished his strongholds
far back over the crest, and destroyed many of his battery positions.
Several thick woods were facing us across the canal, and these grew
thinner, and yet more thin, disclosing cunningly concealed pill-boxes,
which were then dealt with by the heavies, until at last only a few
stumps remained to indicate that a wood had ever existed there. The
enemy’s alarm grew daily, and soon our aeroplanes reported that the
hostile batteries were being withdrawn further out of danger, and that
work was proceeding feverishly upon new defences far behind his lines.
By this time we had complete control of the air, and the heavens were
alive with our aircraft, though the enemy tried his best to equalise
matters by bringing along his famous “travelling circus” to the scene
of action, and many thrilling fights were witnessed. The batteries were
subjected to much chemical shelling during the night, and the enemy
were known to bring forward special guns under cover of darkness for
this purpose, and to withdraw them out of range again before daybreak.

It was during this period that he introduced the new mustard gas for
the first time, and it must be admitted that he surprised and inflicted
considerable casualties on us at first by this latest specimen in his
assortment of poison.

Our initial attack had to be postponed for several days, as the French,
who came in immediately on our left, were delayed in putting in their
appearance, consequently they had many hours’ bombardment to make up,
but, when it did commence, it was no uncertain one, and the noise was
terrific. In the meantime our bombardment was continued also, though in
a lesser degree, and the destruction of the enemy’s lines was, as far
as we were able to judge, thorough and complete.

This delay proved a blessing in disguise to the Guards, who were to
deliver the assault on our sector. The problem of effecting a crossing
of the canal was a most serious and difficult one, and it had been
arranged to send the men over on floating mats, as a good deal of water
still remained in parts of the bed. In others so much mud and slime
were encountered, while carrying out a series of raids, that it was
almost impossible to cross without some such assistance, and it will be
readily understood that it was imperative to waste no time in this
manoeuvre, especially as the foe was awaiting them on the further bank.
Whether it was that the enemy could not maintain communications between
his front line and the rear, on account of our intense bombardment, or
whether, as has been suggested, he suspected a repetition of Messines,
and that we had mined underneath the canal bed, at all events three
days before the attack he evacuated the canal bank and retired just
over the crest of the hill some 800 yards beyond. This movement,
however, had not been carried out unperceived by our valiant airmen,
who, flying at a low altitude, returned and reported the situation.
Immediately strong patrols crossed the canal and pushed up the slope on
the other side, in order to remain in contact with the enemy and gauge
his whereabouts. A series of posts were thus established 500 to 600
yards east of the canal, and orders were given to hold them at all
costs, so that on the day of the battle our infantry could start off
from there without having any serious obstacle in their way. Many men
crossed the canal by means of hastily constructed foot bridges or
floating rafts made of biscuit and petrol tins ingeniously lashed
together.

On this occasion we will follow the fortunes of the F.O.O.’s detailed
to accompany the infantry on their journey over the top on the first
day of the battle. The party consisted of two officers and fourteen
signallers and linesmen from the Brigade, who, during the past
fortnight, had received full instructions as to their duties. Every
detail had been carefully worked out beforehand: the men had been
divided into several groups, each armed with telephones, reels of wire,
flags, and Lucas lamps, all these things being necessary for the
provision of each relay station. One of the officers was to accompany
the attacking waves of infantry with his staff, consisting of a
telephonist, linesman, and signaller, while the duty of the other was
to work in conjunction with him and to maintain, as far as possible,
uninterrupted communication with the Brigade after laying down the
wire. The morning before the battle, the wire was laid out over the
canal as far as the series of outposts, in order to save time on the
following day. The same evening, at sunset, the party set out, after
receiving wishes for the best of good luck from those who had been
fortunate enough to escape being detailed for this arduous task.
Officers and men proceeded to their appointed places in the front line,
or rather in what had once been an enemy support trench, though now it
was scarcely recognisable as such, owing to the effects of our
bombardment, there to remain for the night and await coming events.

Now, in consequence of the enemy’s premature retirement over the crest,
he lost most of his observation on us, but he was aware we had effected
a crossing and held posts on his side of the canal. He therefore
lavishly besprinkled this area with all manner of high explosive
shells—one here, one there: never two in the same place—and the members
of the party began to wonder whether they would survive to witness the
fortunes of the battle. It always appears to be a matter of conjecture
as to what are the real feelings of an F.O.O. about to take the plunge,
so perhaps it might be of interest in this case to acquaint ourselves
with them. As he lies out there with his men, where are his thoughts?
Are they of his home, his parents, wife, or children? Will he ever see
their dear faces again? No—! all that agony has been fought out over
and over again long ago, during the previous fortnight or so, since he
has been detailed for this particular job. Then, what does he think
about? If the truth be told, he is rapidly running over in his mind all
the little things which may perhaps, at the last moment, have been
omitted or forgotten. He questions Gunner “So-and-so” to make certain
that that extra piece of wire has been brought along, and asks what the
h—l Gunner “Somebody else” is doing standing there without a “tin-hat”
on, and enquires of the Bombardier if he has adjusted the Lucas lamp
properly, which has been giving some trouble previously. These and a
hundred-and-one other such questions flash through his brain as he lies
on the ground with his little party, all vigorously puffing pipes or
cigarettes. The hours go by very slowly, and conversation on any old
topic is attempted from time to time, sleep being entirely out of the
question, as everyone is much too excited for anything of that nature.
Meanwhile the bombardment continues without intermission, and the night
becomes intensely cold and eerie. Will the darkness never pass and let
us get started on the job?

Soon after midnight the infantry, who are to make the assault, arrive
at their places of assembly, full of quips and jests, a sure sign that
they are cheery and in good form for the coming fray. Rum is served
out, and the men lie down in little bunches, either to snatch a few
minutes’ sleep or else to resume their constant arguments and
bickerings on every subject under the sun except anything connected
with the war. Zero hour at last draws near, and everyone grows more
restless, for this period is much the most trying time to endure, and
all topics of conversation have long since been exhausted. Then a
short, sharp order passes down the line, and the answering shouts
announce that all are present and ready—the “quarter to zero” has
arrived. Another crisp order comes along, and there are a series of
ominous clicks as each man adjusts his bayonet to the rifle, then the
men line up in perfect extended order, ready for the word to go. A
faint grey appears in the sky to the east, but only the next man is
visible to his neighbour, as the darkness is still upon us. The
F.O.O.’s and party are also up and ready, final instructions being
rapidly given to the signallers, who nod assent that everything is
prepared and understood. Then suddenly the guns bark out afresh, and a
creeping barrage drops down like a curtain in front of the men, who
follow after it at an easy walk. Fortune attends the little party, as
the wire has only been cut in three places, and these are speedily
repaired; and, as soon as the second wave of men is clear of the
trench, the line is laid out as rapidly as possible behind them. The
ground is difficult to traverse, being full of deep craters, so the
party progresses more slowly than the infantry, and presently the third
wave gains on and passes it by. At first the enemy puts down a nasty
barrage, just beyond our stepping-off place, but most of his heavy
stuff falls on the canal bank, and, as the majority of the troops have
already crossed, the damage is not severe. By this time the party has
gained the top of the crest, and, after establishing a relay station in
a pill-box lately occupied by their opponents, the remainder proceed on
their way. Many are the temptations to dawdle, instead of getting on
with the work, so much of interest is taking place around them,
including the amusing, and at that time not too frequent, sight of
scores of the enemy, with uplifted hands, emerging from pill boxes,
where they must have been packed like sardines.

An auxiliary wire tapped into the main F.O.O. line is led to another
pill-box, now to be used as a new infantry headquarters for the time
being, and the party comes under the fire of a hostile machine gun
emplacement, which necessitates their lying in a shell-hole for a
while. On arrival there, the “mopping up” party is found still at work,
but it soon completes its grim task. The officer who has proceeded with
the infantry now sends his first message through to the effect that the
first objectives are taken, the wire fortunately holding out well at
the moment, every sound being clear and distinct. The Lucas lamp is
then fixed on top of the relay station, and communications established
in case the wire goes, but the morning dawns in mist, and signalling by
this method is unsatisfactory.

After a short pause, the infantry proceed on the second stage of their
adventure, the F.O.O. and party following up and laying out wire close
behind them. More messages are sent through to Brigade, and the wire
breaks on several occasions, but is speedily dealt with by the
linesmen, who are kept busy patrolling up and down the line. Meanwhile,
items of extreme interest are taking place around the pill-pox of the
Central Relay Station. Numerous batches of prisoners are drifting back,
for the most part unattended, composed entirely of youths of nineteen
and twenty years of age, the Guards having refused to kill these
babies, only “despatching” the older men, for the Division up against
them was very mixed, and may best be described as a “dud” lot, and it
did not put up much of a fight. The lads all look weary and
mud-stained, although there is an expression of relief on their faces,
as they steadily munch the bread that has been good-naturedly handed to
them by their captors, for they have been starving for the past three
days or so, no food having reached them on account of the terrific
bombardment. An aid-post is hastily placed in a huge shell-hole close
by, and the wounded straggle back; those who are but slightly hit and
can walk help each other along, while the others are carried on
stretchers. Here, a man, ghastly wounded, minus one leg and with the
other almost severed, lies on a stretcher, calmly puffing at a
cigarette given him by the bearers, and attempts to raise himself on
his elbow that he may gaze at the curious scenes taking place around
him. Others just stagger along, their pinched faces showing signs of
suppressed pain, yet all have a quip or a jest on their lips as they
smoke the inevitable cigarette. The sight is truly a wonderful one! The
courage and calm that these wounded display in the midst of their
sufferings is beyond words, but they are “Greatheart’s all.”
Reinforcements are passing all this time on their way up to the battle
line, ready to throw themselves into the conflict when their time
arrives.

Again the infantry move forward to the third and final objective, under
cover of the friendly barrage, and, by the time they arrive at their
allotted destination, an advance of some three miles from the canal
bank has been effected since morning. The wire is linked up, and the
F.O.O. selects a good point of vantage, and makes himself and his staff
as comfortable as possible, and then proceeds to gather as much
information as he can obtain to send back over the line. The infantry
are now busy digging themselves in, and are being subjected to heavy
shell-fire, but they stubbornly resist all efforts to dislodge them. By
this time the batteries have all limbered up and advanced to new
positions, mostly out in the open, and an order comes over the
telephone from the B.C.’s for the F.O.O. to register the guns afresh:
so he at once picks up some dependable landmark, and with much
difficulty observes the rounds as they fall, and thus gives the
necessary corrections.

Then the wires break on account of the shelling, and some time is lost
before communications are again established. The enemy has now
recovered somewhat from the initial shock of the attack, and displays
much determination to recover lost ground—counter attacks are launched
without success. The F.O.O. now has an important message to convey,
but, when the telephonist endeavours to send it through, there is no
answering buzz. Thereupon the linesman is despatched as a runner, and,
on reaching the first relay station, he transfers the written message
to another linesman, who immediately sets out for the next relief, and
so on, until the message duly arrives at headquarters.

Thus the day wears on: sometimes direct communication is possible, and
at others the wire is “dished,” but, on the whole, a good deal of
information is passed through. The relay posts are constantly shelled,
and the bombardier in charge is wounded, while one runner was killed in
his gallant endeavour to pass through a heavy barrage with an important
communication. In the evening the party, much exhausted with the
strenuous and never ending work of the day, is relieved by a fresh
group of officers and signallers, who take over from them, and the
little party wind their way homewards profoundly thankful to find
themselves back with their unit safe and sound.

The situation, at the end of the opening day of the battle, was roughly
this:—In the north all had gone well, and most of the objectives aimed
at were successfully taken, but, such stiff resistance was met with
further south, that the assaulting troops were held up after they had
gained only about half of those allotted to them, and, although they
fought stubbornly and determinedly, they were unable to make further
ground. Thus the left wing was forced to mark time while the troops on
the right made a series of attacks in order to straighten out the line,
otherwise the army to the north would have found itself enclosed in a
nasty salient. The artillery, over the whole battle front, also
encountered great difficulty in advancing the guns, the ground was so
ploughed up by the effects of the long preliminary bombardment. Even
the horse gunners, who were detailed to move up in immediate support of
the infantry, were unable to proceed further than a few hundred yards
on the other side of the canal. Huge craters, placed lip to lip, met
them in all directions, and an advance was found to be out of the
question till new tracks were prepared and the road cleared of debris.
This naturally took some time to accomplish, and, meanwhile, all the
field batteries were advanced as close to the canal bank as possible,
but even then they were much too far behind, and were firing at almost
extreme range.

No serious attack could be delivered, therefore, for some ten days,
until sufficient time had elapsed to enable the gunners to occupy new
positions some way across the canal, and, on this occasion, Langemarke
fell into our hands, as well as the line of the Broombeke. Progress
remained slow further south, consequently our front became stationary.
Now, it so happened that most of our batteries were in extremely
awkward positions, as we had expected to be moved forward at any time.
They were right out in the open, devoid of any cover, and, for the most
part, placed in shell holes which had been hastily converted into pits.
Here we were subjected to the most “gruelling” time that was ever our
lot to endure, and the battle developed into a gigantic duel between
batteries, in which our position was no worse than the others. We lived
in shell holes, scantily covered with corrugated iron and a layer or
two of sand-bags, scarcely splinter proof, nor had we any means of
making ourselves more secure. The enemy’s heavy counter batteries swept
and searched over the slope where the majority of our batteries were
congregated, and never before or after were they seen to reach such a
pitch of efficiency.

Never a day passed without casualties, and often a number of gunners
were buried as the result of an explosion, and had to be hastily dug
out, and early on we lost one of our subaltern officers, who was borne
away to the dressing station with no less than a dozen wounds on him.
It was with great difficulty that the battery was kept in action
sometimes, and, though we soon shifted our position to a flank, this
did not relieve the situation. A 60 pdr. battery not far behind us
developed the fatal habit of becoming particularly active during “flash
time,” and, as its flash was notoriously conspicuous, it was not
surprising that its location was promptly pin-pointed by the enemy, who
proceeded to knock it out: and this they succeeded in doing without
much delay. During this particular contest we always got the short
rounds, and, as they were not peas that were coming over, but 8″ and
11″ shells, the atmosphere was unpleasant, to say the least of it!

We considered ourselves lucky if we could keep 50 per cent. of the guns
in action at the same time, while every nerve was strained to dig out
the remainder, and it was a very heartless job, as a gun had no sooner
been recovered and set up in position than it was knocked out again
almost immediately. One morning, after a wild night of shelling by the
enemy, on going to ascertain the damage, we found one gun with its
barrel buried deep in the ground, the trail standing perpendicular
pointing towards the sky; another completely turned over on its back
pointing in the opposite direction, while a third had been blown right
out of the shell hole in which it had been placed, and hurled a
considerable distance away. Casualties to our establishment mounted at
a most alarming rate, and one night our B.C. was mortally wounded by a
high explosive shell, and, although such assistance as it was possible
to give was rendered, he did not survive long after reaching the
casually clearing station. His loss was much felt, not only by reason
of his own cheerful personality, but also on account of the way in
which he inspired all those under him to do their utmost, especially in
times of stress and danger, when he always proved himself a true
leader. The Captain now succeeded to the command of the battery, and
the Senior Subaltern became second-in-command. It soon became evident
that we could not carry on much longer under these conditions, and in
the last week of September we were pulled out to refit, and remained
near the village of Herszeele for a few days before again entering the
fray.

Meanwhile a subaltern with a working party was busily occupied
preparing new emplacements for our reception, and on the day of their
completion he was wounded while riding his bicycle back to his billet:
thus we lost yet another officer. But, try as we would, it was
impossible to escape the vigilant eye of the enemy, who engaged battery
positions one after another, and the number of guns knocked out was
prodigious. Through a lucky chance it had been decided to take the guns
“in” at dawn, instead of during the night, and by reason of this we
escaped a most violent hostile bombardment which was directed against
the position, and which damaged at least two of the pits and completely
destroyed several dug-outs which the work party had recently striven so
hard to build. We set to work and repaired most of the damage, and,
whether or not it was the enemy thought he had disposed of us thereby,
at all events he did not repeat the performance beyond subjecting us to
the ordinary night harassing fire.

Another attack was impending, which again necessitated the forward
movement of all batteries, and this time we were more fortunate in the
selection of a site, and had several German pill-boxes in which to live
and take refuge. Owing to the congestion on the one and only good road
in the neighbourhood and the hostile shelling thereof, it was a matter
of luck to find ourselves safely installed behind Abri Wood, and we
immediately set out preparing for the new fight. Unfortunately, the
weather again came to the assistance of our foe, and a spell of rain
and wind made conditions extremely difficult for both infantry and
gunners. However, the battle was proceeded with, and the result was an
advance over the mud and slime of the river Broombeke as far as the
outskirts of Houthoulst Forest, a distance of about two miles; our
French allies, on the left, keeping in step with us throughout this
operation. Then the inevitable forward move of the batteries was
resumed, and this time we occupied positions down the further slope of
the hill immediately across the rivulet of the Steenbeke. In
consequence of torrents of rain, which continued daily, the low-lying
ground became flooded, and it was all we could do to prevent the guns
sinking in the sodden earth, and they frequently disappeared in the mud
up to their axles. Dry accommodation was nowhere to be found except in
a great pill-box, which we added to and strengthened, and it was
popularly called the “Rabbit Hutch,” for the obvious reason that it
held the majority of the four batteries of the Brigade.

Now, our last attack had advanced us considerably further than the men
on the right, who throughout the past month had encountered very stiff
opposition, so we had perforce to remain stationary and mark time,
while the battle continued to the south. On several occasions we
rendered assistance by putting up what is commonly known as a “Chinese
barrage,” _i.e._, the artillery carries out the ordinary programme
preceding an attack, but no action follows on the part of the infantry.
Conditions were equally disagreeable at the wagon lines, which speedily
developed into quagmires, and it was almost impossible to walk about
the lines unless attired in waders, and, even then, there was always
the possibility of completely disappearing in the mud. Over and above
that, the wagon lines were subjected every now and then to the
attentions of a high velocity gun, as well as frequent visits from
hostile night bombing machines, which were following the example set by
our airmen and were endeavouring to pay us back in our own coin. Much
damage was done in and around the neighbourhood, but our lines escaped
exceedingly lightly. The question of ammunition supply became acute,
and the use of pack saddles was again necessitated, and, because of the
great distance between wagon lines and gun position, the round journey
sometimes took eighteen hours to accomplish, and naturally the strain
eventually told greatly upon both men and horses.

The battery positions were not long in being located by the enemy, who
expended great quantities of ammunition in his attempts to destroy
them: and he made much use of chemical and mustard shell, which in time
saturated the low-lying ground on which the guns were placed. In this
way he effectively gassed the B.C., a subaltern, and several of the
men, who were all despatched to the wagon line, and the Captain assumed
command for the time being and brought up reliefs with him. By this
time the Battery was again in a very bad way, and a rest was promised
on several occasions, only to be held up time and again with the
exhortation to hold out yet a little while longer. Winter was rapidly
approaching, and it was necessary to adjust our line before fighting
came to a standstill: and a considerable distance had yet to be
traversed before the goal—Passchendaele and the ridge on which it was
situated—could be reached.

The battery, meanwhile, waited on in patience. All the remaining
officers were affected by the mustard gas, as well as the majority of
the gunners, and a sorry sight we presented when, in the first week in
November, an incoming battery took over from us. We then proceeded to
the new wagon lines, near Proven, in an utterly exhausted condition.



CHAPTER VIII.
Cambrai.


Everyone thought that our long-expected rest was now forthcoming, so it
was a great surprise when we were ordered to hold ourselves in
readiness for a long march.

What did it all mean? Were we marching into our new area and having our
rest there or were we to be pitchforked into another scrap?

No indication of our destination was given, and everything seemed most
mysterious: and, when the Brigade arrived in the neighbourhood of
Merville, there did not appear to be any sign of a definite halt. At
all events the journey was being performed in easy stages, as if we
were filling in time, and we were always making further south, till,
passing behind Bethune, the vicinity of Arras was reached. Here news of
the surprise attack at Cambrai first reached our ears, the secret of
which had been kept so well, and, heading in the direction of Bapaume,
we were acquainted with the fact that we were again “for it.”

Now, the initial attack, which came as a complete surprise to the
enemy, had met with instant success, and, with the aid of a
considerable number of Tanks, the great Hindenburg line had been
breeched over a distance of from 6 to 8 miles, with the result that the
fall of Cambrai a centre of great importance to the Germans appeared
imminent.

However, after the first couple of days, the attack was not pressed
home as it might have been, for some reason or other, and the fight
came to an abrupt standstill, leaving our troops in a particularly
baggy salient. These were the conditions that prevailed when the
Division gradually moved nearer the scene of action.

In the beginning of the fourth week of November, we entered the battle,
taking over from a famous Scottish Division which had fought with great
distinction on the opening days.

The battery was placed in action to the north of Flesquieres, well
inside the salient facing Bourlon Wood, in a position only recently
completed by the enemy and which had not even been occupied by him.
There was plenty of accommodation for everyone in the deep mined
dug-outs prepared by him some thirty to forty feet below the ground,
and the officers’ quarters were spacious and lavishly constructed.

From this point the domes and the spires of the city of Cambrai could
be clearly distinguished; indeed, they appeared such a short distance
away, it looked as if a saunter would carry us into the heart of the
town.

It was most interesting and instructive studying the elaborate system
of the Hindenburg defences. First, there were three separate belts of
closely-entwined barbed wire, each being some thirty yards wide, and
behind them came a deep, narrow forefield trench that was only intended
to be lightly manned. Communication trenches led back to the main
Hindenburg trench some distance behind, in most cases being out of
immediate view from our lately occupied positions.

This trench was both deep and wide, being some twelve feet across and
duck-boarded throughout, raised on wooden stakes to prevent the water
reaching the level of the pathway. At short intervals shafts led down
to the spacious dug-outs beneath, which were all connected and linked
up with one another. In fact, practically speaking, one could walk from
one end of the line to the other below the surface of the ground.

Skilfully concealed, at frequent intervals, were emplacements for both
trench-mortars and machine-guns, all heavily concreted and covered on
top with turf.

The enemy must have thought himself very secure in this vast
stronghold, but in a way this very fact contributed, in a great
measure, to his undoing; for, it is common knowledge that the more one
frequents deep dug-outs the less inclination there is to emerge from
them when a scrap is taking place.

Finally, some 500 yards in the rear, a support line ran along, which,
though not constructed with the same strength, was formidable enough in
itself.

To judge by the indescribable mess, and by the mass of material left
littered about, the enemy must indeed have beat a hasty retreat. The
dug-outs were filthy to the last degree, and there was no sign of any
system of sanitation having been used by these people, who considered
their “Kultur” to be superlative, and who desired to impose it on the
rest of mankind. All through the campaign, whenever one had the
opportunity of inspecting hostile trenches and billets, one always
found the same thing, filth and lack of sanitation.

Now, for some little time our hold on Bourlon Wood had been precarious,
so a further attack was initiated, and the Guards went in to straighten
the line. They swept through the Wood, taking the villages of Bourlon
and Fontaine, but a gigantic counter attack pressed them back again
owing to reinforcements being late in arriving to render assistance.
They were so badly mauled and cut up that it was necessary to withdraw
them from the line to refit, and infantry from an “Old Contemptible”
Division took their place. Bourlon Wood became so saturated with gas
that, after a great tussle, neither side was able to tenant it any
longer, and so withdrew, leaving a screen of outposts to prevent any
surprise attack.

This was the situation when dawn broke on the 30th of November, a day
which proved to be one of ups and downs for us, and caused many
misgivings to arise in the old country. The object of the enemy was to
pinch either side of the jaws, and, if his attack on the north had met
with equal success with that on the south, there would have been little
hope for the troops in the salient, who undoubtedly would have been
surrounded and cut off. However, as events turned out, our men held out
and remained firm. Moreover, it was afterwards discovered from captured
documents that the enemy’s scheme was a large and ambitious one. Not
only was it his intention to retake the whole of our recent gains, but
to press on further through Havrincourt Wood, and establish himself on
a line beyond it.

The Germans employed the same tactics as we used on the opening day of
the battle—there was no preliminary bombardment, and their troops
advanced under cover of a heavy mist and preceded by a creeping
barrage. They put an overwhelming number of troops into the fight, the
odds against our men being something like three to one, but our
infantry in the north fought valiantly, although they were forced to
give ground step by step in the initial stages. As the day wore on and
the mist rose, we were able to see the hostile infantry advancing in
masses, but they were paying a heavy toll at the hands of our machine
gunners, who cut many a line in their ranks.

The situation became tense when the enemy succeeded in driving our men
across the Bapaume-Cambrai road, and were seen to be approaching Anneux
and Graincourt. The 18 prs. batteries which were lying alongside of us
dragged their guns out of their pits on to the crest in front, and
proceeded to rake the enemy, firing as rapidly as they were able,
through open sights, the gunners stripped to the waist, toiling and
sweating in their endeavour to stop the oncoming tide. The fight swayed
backward and forward throughout the whole day, but finally the enemy
was held in check without gaining further ground, and he incurred very
heavy casualties.

In the south the situation was very obscure, and somehow or other the
enemy broke a gap in the defences between La Vacquerie and
Gouzeaucourt, capturing the latter place as well as the village of
Gonnelieu, and commenced streaming through. He had advanced a
considerable distance before the importance of his move was fully
realised, consequently most extraordinary incidents occurred, stories
of which are now familiar to everyone. Battery positions were rapidly
overrun, and even wagon lines were captured, while Labour companies,
working on the roads far behind the front, on looking up, discovered
the foe almost on top of them.

There were no reserves in immediate support, and affairs were taking on
a most serious complexion. Something had to be done and that right
speedily! Therefore the Guards, who had only two days previously been
withdrawn from the fight, were again called upon. They were lying in
rest around Bertincourt, Ytres and Ruyaulcourt, and were hurriedly
conveyed in ’buses and motor lorries to Metz, where they formed up and
set out on their big counter-attack, supported by our sister Brigade
and another gunner unit which chanced to have been pulled out on the
previous night. Now, the enemy troops appeared to be as much surprised
at their success as we were, and continued advancing in a bewildered
kind of fashion, astonished at the little or entire lack of opposition
with which they met. Suddenly, however, they came face to face with the
full strength of the best disciplined troops in the world, whereupon
they paused, staggered, and at length commenced to fall back, in
confusion and disorder, with the result that the day was saved just in
the nick of time, and most of the ground was recovered, in addition to
some 50 guns.

Meanwhile the wagon lines were situated in the village of Ribecourt,
right inside the salient, and, although it was known that a scrap was
taking place, no one had any idea as to its stupendous nature. The fact
that the village lay in a valley, surrounded by hills, prevented much
noise of the conflict reaching those in it. However, shortly after
breakfast, it became apparent that something was amiss, and the place
became subjected to a heavy bombardment. The horses and vehicles were
evacuated as quickly as possible, without suffering undue casualties,
and collected on the hillside a short distance away, facing Bourlon
Wood, where they “stood to” awaiting further orders.

Hostile aeroplanes put in an appearance, flying daringly low hither and
thither across the salient, endeavouring to pick up as much information
as possible, and sometimes dropping bombs. Many a tussle took place
between them and our airmen, who did not allow them undisputed sway for
long.

At noon instructions came through to be prepared to withdraw the guns
at any moment, but in the end this was found unnecessary. Even at this
time we were unaware that the enemy had penetrated our line to the
south, and the first indication we had that something unusual was
taking place, was the arrival of some reinforcements, who hurried along
the top of the hillside behind us, and took up positions facing in the
opposite direction! A short time elapsed, and then we were astonished
and horrified to see a creeping barrage roll along, top the crest, and
gradually draw nearer us from the rear. Fortunately, it stopped before
actually reaching us, for by this time the enemy had attained his
furthest point of penetration, and the counter attack had already been
launched. Throughout the rest of the day the wagon line “stood to”
ready for any emergency, and at dusk the limbers were sent up to the
position, and the guns were withdrawn the same night and placed in
action in the railway cutting immediately behind the ridge to the south
of Flesquieres.

It became evident, after the experiences of the previous day, that, as
long as we remained in this awkward salient, we would undoubtedly be
exposed to further attacks at the hands of the enemy. The Germans
meanwhile had concentrated huge forces in the vicinity, so a
continuation of our advance was now out of the question, and a
modification of our front was decided upon. The infantry constructed a
new line running north of Flesquieres Ridge, and, as soon as it was
completed, our troops fell back on it under cover of darkness,
unperceived and therefore unmolested by the enemy, who only made the
discovery on the following day, and then cautiously followed up until
they came in contact with us once more. The salient presented a curious
aspect at night to those inside it, and we seemed to be almost
surrounded by Verey lights, as indeed we were, except where the narrow
neck led out towards Metz.

The enemy did not, as was expected, attempt any further operations on a
large scale, but contented himself with making things very
uncomfortable for us. In spite of our withdrawal, the line was still
saggy to a large extent, and he could bring his guns to bear on any
part of the salient and enfilade it. He also paid much attention to
bombing, and his planes came over at dawn and dusk and caused a good
deal of damage. The wagon lines came in for their share of
unpleasantness, and in the course of a fortnight we were forced to quit
no less than three positions in turn. The battery was specially
handicapped by the colour of its horses, and was evidently easily
spotted by hostile aircraft, for we had more than our share of ill
fortune at this period. To take the worst case that befell us, one
night the wagon line lost 35 horses. A covey of enemy planes had been
over at daybreak, and apparently made a mental note of our location, as
they returned the same evening and dropped several bombs, though,
strange to say, no damage was effected. However, towards midnight, a
4.2 battery suddenly opened fire with instantaneous fuse action, and
many casualties were inflicted before the horses could be removed,
owing to difficulties in the pitch darkness.

The most wonderful fact in the whole proceedings was that, although
there was little or no cover for the men, who were ensconced in
bivouacs, except a few who were in an old disused trench close by, only
a couple of them were hit. The officers were rudely awakened by large
splinters entering their tent, and only just missing their heads as
they lay on their valises, while the sergeants had a most miraculous
escape. They had formed a Mess in a bay of the trench, the sides
supported and heightened by some of the Q.M.S.’s stores, and covered on
top by a large tarpaulin. A shell dropped practically on top of them,
fortunately detonating instantly against several boxes of iron rations,
which undoubtedly contributed to saving their lives. An officer arrived
on the scene immediately afterwards, and found them all lying
unconscious as the result of the explosion, but they soon revived and
took a stout part in rescuing the horses. The construction was
completely wrecked, and the clothes they wore were stripped into
ribbons, but only one of them had a scratch on him.

No delay was made in attending to the wounded horses, and in conveying
the remainder to a place of safety. The drivers were all splendidly
cool and collected under the trying circumstances, but many of the poor
beasts were beyond human aid, and had to be destroyed.

The scene next morning was a gruesome one, and it was a most pathetic
sight to watch the drivers, with tears running down their cheeks,
bidding a last farewell to their lost charges before burial, for the
men become exceedingly attached to their four-legged comrades,
especially when they have had charge of them for a considerable time.
No time was lost in selecting a new locality, as it was considered wise
to get out of the salient altogether, and thus avoid the risk of
incurring further unnecessary casualties; so the wagon lines were
removed to the vicinity of Ruyaulcourt.

A spell of hard frost set in, with an occasional fall of snow, which
added to our difficulties as well as to our discomforts, for it must be
remembered that both battery position and wagon line were occupied at a
moment’s notice, and no time could be spent in making any preparations
beforehand for our reception. Affairs were now settling down for the
winter, and nothing unusual was taking place beyond a good deal of
artillery activity on both sides, consequently we were only awaiting
orders to withdraw from the line. These came through in a few days’
time, and the Brigade pulled out in the middle of December to the
ruined village of Beaulencourt, situated south east of Bapaume. On the
following day a long march was undertaken, and we proceeded by way of
Achiet-le-Grand, Ayette, and Beaumetz to the village of Montennescourt,
due west of Arras, a distance of 25 miles.

It says much for the battery that it accomplished this long trail with
no less than 43 horses below establishment, and without any outside
assistance, in spite of the heaviness of the roads. The guns were
pulled by six-horse teams, and the vehicles and other baggage wagons by
four-horse teams, made up by requisitioning all the available
outriders, yet none of the horses suffered to any great extent from the
extra strain imposed on them.

It was with feelings of great gratification that we learnt that at last
we were going to have our long-delayed rest, and that it would fall to
our lot to spend the coming Christmas-tide and New Year season in more
congenial surroundings than had been the case in the two previous
years. All were prepared to enjoy themselves on this occasion, as it
was felt, on reviewing the past six months, during which time we had
been fighting incessantly in “pukka” battles, in which we had acquitted
ourselves not badly, that we had thoroughly earned a week or two of
complete rest and quiet.



CHAPTER IX.
At Arras.


The next fortnight was spent under most happy conditions, and all ranks
had an enjoyable time. As Christmas approached, active preparations
were made to excel anything we had ever had before in the way of
festivities, and this was possible now that we were out of action.
Quarter-Master-Sergeants, puffed out with importance, were to be seen
strutting hither and thither, returning with mysterious sacks and
parcels, presumably filled with good cheer.

Plucked geese and turkeys appeared in large numbers, suspended from the
ceilings of billets, and several large barrels arrived on the scene,
and were duly placed under lock and key in the canteen, awaiting the
auspicious day. Much competition took place between batteries for the
possession of the only two live pigs in the village, which eventually
went to the highest bidders, while the remainder procured their joints
in the form of pork from Doullens. One of the batteries meanwhile grew
so attached to its prospective Christmas fare that it was almost
decided to spare his life and adopt him as a mascot. His fate was
sealed, however, when one day it was discovered that he had disposed of
several parcels of food which had, inadvertently, been placed within
his reach by some of the men.

Concerts were arranged, and the village school-room was kindly lent and
artistically decorated for these occasions. The weather was all that
could be desired now that we were safely lodged in billets, and it was
a typical old-fashioned yule-tide, with a plentiful fall of snow
followed by hard frost. The little village was in a sheltered hollow,
and a small rivulet passed through it on its way down the valley, while
the scenery might have been that surrounding any hamlet in the south of
England.

An open air service was conducted by the Padre, for the Brigade, on
’Xmas morning, and the rest of the day was given over to sports and
concerts, and the climax of enjoyment was reached at night when the men
partook of their dinner. Gramaphones were well to the fore, but all
kinds of musical instruments took part in the gaiety which followed.

A certain amount of latitude was given the men for a few days after, in
order that they might recover from the orgy, for indeed they had never
had such a gorge since their arrival in France. All were in excellent
spirits, and these were by no means diminished when it became known
that our next area was in front of Arras. It was recognised to be an
enviable part of the line to be situated in, especially during the
winter months. It was also a locality with which we had not as yet made
acquaintance, and it was always interesting to visit a new portion of
the front, as we disliked being too long in the same surroundings
without a change of scene.

The day following New Year, the Division entered on its period of duty
in the sector north of Monchy to the vicinity of Gavrelle, with the
heights of Vimy, which had fallen into our hands in the previous spring
on its left.

The battery position was reached by following the Arras-Plouvain road
along the valley of the river Scarpe, and we took over from a Scottish
Division. The enemy lines were everywhere overlooked, consequently he
wisely refrained from showing much activity.

A magnificent view was obtained from the rear O.P. on the heights
facing Vitry, and, on a clear day, Douai was plainly visible and even
the country far beyond it.

Our front line ran along at the bottom of the slope, having the ruined
piles of Roeux, which was the scene of such furious fighting in the
latter stages of Arras battle, immediately in its rear. Half right, to
the south of the river Scarpe, what remained of the village of Monchy
stood out like a sentinel on the top of the hill. This point afforded a
splendid view in all directions and was the veritable keystone of the
whole position. Four of our pieces were placed in a quarry, a few yards
off the road leading through Fampoux, on its western extremity, while
the other two guns were moved forward, east of the same village, behind
a bank, and carefully camouflaged. As this sector was extraordinarily
quiet and there was not sufficient work to keep everyone occupied, the
Battery Commander decided to commence construction and endeavour to
make our position a model one. Two pits, which were already in
existence, were pulled down and rebuilt, and two others were
constructed alongside, and all of them were placed just as near the
front bank of the quarry as would permit of the guns clearing the
crest. The whole position was completely camouflaged, as, it will be
readily understood, a quarry made a conspicuous target for the enemy at
any time, and if he suspected the presence of a battery therein, there
would have been little peace or quiet for us. However, as things turned
out, we had evidently made a good job of our work, and to our surprise,
not a single shell dropped in the quarry during our period of
occupation.

Walls were white-washed and ammunition and charge shelves elaborately
painted, the platforms were neatly tiled or bricked with material taken
from the surrounding ruins, and all manner of “eye wash” was employed
in making the pits look well. A communication trench was dug from one
extremity to the other, rivetted and duck-boarded throughout, and led
to the men’s quarters. These when completed were palatial, and put in
the shade any headquarter unit in the line.

The near side of the quarry, which consisted of chalk, was easily and
rapidly mined, and, in the course of three weeks, the men had
comfortable quarters. Beds made of wire netting stretched on wooden
frames, a spacious dining hall, telephone pit, cook house, and they
even possessed a moderate sized bath room, which was highly valued and
put to great use. The officers’ quarters were no less sumptuously
fitted out. Each had sleeping accommodation, in cellars of the ruined
houses, running along the main street close to the quarry, nicely lined
with wood and canvas to keep the damp out, while the Mess itself was a
work of art.

The latter was built entirely by the officers and their batmen, under
the personal supervision of our energetic B.C.

The floors, walls and roof of the cellar were lined with three inch
timber, and one day a subaltern, who had been out exploring, came back
triumphant, bearing in his arms a huge roll of wall paper found buried
under some rubbish, at a spot which probably denoted the one time
existence of a decorator’s shop. The Mess was therefore duly papered,
with frieze complete, and with the addition of easy chairs, book
shelves, a stove and gramaphone, there was nothing left to wish for,
and the place was most cosy and snug. The entrance, too, was the
admiration of everybody, nicely tiled and decorated with fancy carvings
from the utterly destroyed church. Iron girders, beams, and countless
bricks to the height of several feet rested on top of our home. It is
not to be wondered at, then, that this model position was frequently
visited by high personages, brought hither by our Brigade-Commander or
C.R.A., who appeared almost as proud of the place as we were ourselves.
Moreover, as we were in such close proximity to the road leading up to
the front line, it was only natural that officers should drop in to
this half way house and rest and regale themselves before resuming
their journey, so before long our Mess was known as “The Pub”
throughout the Division.

The forward position was treated in the same fashion, and never before
had both officers and men had such comfortable quarters. Thus we
settled down to a life of ease, such as we had not known since the
Laventie days of two winters ago, and proceeded to thoroughly enjoy
ourselves.

Frequent trips were made into Arras, either on horseback or by river,
for there was a steamboat service, running daily on the Scarpe, which
landed one close to the Officers’ Club, a large wooden erection similar
to a Y.M.C.A. hut, run by the Expeditionary Force Canteen.

The town had not been irreparably destroyed, and in most parts the
inhabitants had returned, and were carrying on their usual routine,
while many shops were re-opened and doing good business. The Cathedral
was badly damaged, as well as other prominent buildings, but, on the
whole, the town had escaped wonderfully considering how close the enemy
had been to it for so long. Now, of course, the enemy was over six
miles away, and the city could not be reached by any other than his
high velocity guns, and they seldom troubled to shell the place, and
when they did so, from time to time, the fire was chiefly directed on
the railway station and sidings in the vicinity.

An equally peaceful time fell to the lot of those who were at the wagon
lines. They were situated just off the main Arras-Souchez road, within
easy reach of the former place. Accommodation for Officers and men was
provided by Nissen huts, containing stoves, while the horses had good
covered-in standings, with mud walls surrounding them for protection
against bombing raids.

The transport of ammunition to the guns was easily conducted, as
excellent roads ran the whole way, and every care was taken to keep the
horses up to condition. The frost did not continue and in the early
months of the year the weather was wonderfully bright and mild, and
many a good gallop could be had in the neighbourhood, as there was a
fine stretch of open ground close to the wagon line.

The horses undoubtedly had a better time than it is usually possible to
give them during the winter months. The war horse is an extraordinarily
intelligent animal and appreciates anything done for him in the way of
comfort. He also becomes very cute and cunning, and always knows the
routine of the day, and can tell his time of feeding almost to the
minute, and, if allowed, would go by himself automatically to the water
troughs and return to his own particular standing in the stable.

One horse familiarly known by the name of “Shrapnel,” owing to several
wounds of that kind which refused to close up, and completely heal,
knew at once when he was “warned” for the line. Now, he disliked going
out at nights, and consequently was in the habit of “scrimp-shanking,”
and proceeded forthwith to go lame. At first he managed to fool
everybody, but on close investigation it was discovered that nothing at
all was the matter with him.

Another fine beast, which at one time must have been ill-treated, when
he came to us had a bad rope gall on his near hind, and was extremely
nervous at being touched. After hours of coaxing he allowed his section
officer and driver to handle him, and, at length, showed great
affection to them both, but woe betide any other member of the battery,
who attempted to go near him, back went his ears and out went his feet
at once!

About the middle of February, a feeling of uneasiness evidently entered
the minds of those in authority. It was known that the enemy was
transferring large numbers of troops, which had been released by the
collapse of Russia, to the Western front. Consequently every unit got
busy at once, the Infantry dug new trench systems in rear of their
existing ones, constructed strong points, and mile upon mile of barbed
wire was laid down.

The gunners prepared new battle and reinforcing positions, in case a
retiral should be necessary, and filled them with ammunition against
all eventualities.

In a little more than a month everything was completed, and during the
third week of March, the troops were warned of an impending great enemy
offensive, and became fully on the alert.



CHAPTER X.
March the 21st.


The morning of the 20th broke calm and the enemy did nothing to
indicate that anything out of the ordinary was about to take place, but
this did not deceive us, as it was known to our Command that the blow
was going to fall on the following morning. Silence reigned supreme,
except for the ordinary harassing artillery fire, up till midnight, but
shortly afterwards the German guns opened out their annihilating fire,
and drenched our forward system and battery positions with a severe gas
bombardment.

In this area the majority of batteries had, at the last moment, taken
the precaution to change their positions, as these were known to the
enemy, and thus avoided being entirely demolished by the heavy
concentration which poured all manner of shell into those they had
lately vacated.

At dawn, which, unfortunately for us, broke in a thick mist, after a
sustained bombardment of some four to five hours’ duration, the enemy
launched his gigantic attack over an area of fifty miles, from
Guenappe, immediately below Monchy in the North, to the neighbourhood
of La Fere in the south. Under cover of the mist, he congregated large
numbers of field guns, which were able to accompany and closely support
the attacking waves, while at some places he employed his new Tanks.
These, however, though rendering some assistance to him, by no means
came up to expectations, and were ponderous and clumsy, in spite of the
fact that he had previously captured several of ours from which to
copy, but they proved to be far behind ours, both in construction and
usefulness.

A “Chinese barrage” was put down by the enemy on our sector, but no
attack developed. The same evening the Division was hurriedly withdrawn
from the line, and heading in a southern direction arrived in the
neighbourhood of Tilloy and prepared for instant action.

In spite of the favourable conditions, our foes made little or no
ground, throughout the day, on the whole of the Army front, and were
held in our forefield. Further south, much the same thing happened,
although they penetrated further in some places, but nowhere had they
broken through, so the news on the whole was good and reassuring.

The German attack was renewed on the following day, and still the
Northern Army remained firm, but they succeeded in effecting a serious
breech in the Army to the south, where the British had lately taken
over from our French allies. So swift was the enemy’s progress at this
point that our troops on either side of this bulge soon became
endangered, and a general retirement was immediately necessary in order
to keep the line straight.

This applied to the Northern Army also, but not to anything like the
same extent. The Division again moved south, and took up positions
behind the Henin Ridge, between the village of that name and St. Leger,
for the purpose of covering the retirement.

The whole line thus became mobile, and, for several days, a stiff
rear-guard action was fought, which resulted in very heavy casualties
being inflicted on the enemy. He was by this time flushed with his
success further south, and attempted to advance as if he were already
the conqueror, which led to his own undoing, as virtually he was only
permitted to gain ground at our time and will. It cannot be denied,
however, that the days were anxious ones and the infantry were kept
very heavily engaged and became much exhausted. However, they made the
most of their opportunities, and had hitherto rarely found such ready
targets, and their machine guns effected great execution on the enemy
ranks as the men came along laden with full packs. A story is told, and
is believed to be true, of one machine gunner that, in the course of
his morning’s work, he slaughtered over 200 German’s single handed with
his weapon, after which he became a raving lunatic and had to be
forceably removed.

The infantry, too, admitted that they were getting tired of killing
Boches, and the casualties inflicted on our men were a mere nothing as
compared with those suffered by our foes. The gunners were equally busy
dropping into action here and there and falling back as the
circumstances required, until at the end of a week, the line became
more or less stationary. The front line now ran through Mercatel,
Boisleux and Moyenneville and thence, in a south westerly direction,
towards Serre. Thus the Germans were again almost back on the line they
had held, prior to the big retreat on the Hindenburg line in the spring
of 1917.

It seemed a great pity to vacate the Henin Ridge, for the opposing
sides found themselves facing each other in a hollow, with rising
ground on either side, which made battery positions difficult to
conceal. So many disused trenches, which had previously formed part of
the old German line system, helped to shelter us, to a great extent,
for we were at this point nearly two miles east of the permanent line
of a year ago.

Everyone feverishly sat about digging and constructing new trenches,
and an enormous amount of work was accomplished in a comparatively
short space of time, for it was felt that the enemy had by no means
expended all his strength, and would endeavour, in the near future, to
resume active operations. There could be no doubt that he would be
dissatisfied to remain where he was, especially as, so far, he had
little to shew on this particular part of the front for his gigantic
effort and huge loss of men.

It was no surprise therefore when, at the beginning of the second week
in April, after a short sharp bombardment, the enemy made a strong
attack from Monchy, north to the Vimy Ridge, with the object of seizing
Arras and the heights before mentioned. The result was a costly
failure, as he was everywhere held up in our forefield system, and the
British Divisions opposed to him had the time of their lives. We were
very interested to hear about this battle, as, of course, it was fought
over the sector in which we had lately spent a number of happy months
and where we had done such an amount of work. It was distinctly
gratifying, too, when a wire was received from the Division who took
over from us thanking our Division for the wonderful defensive
construction made by us. It was due to that work that they were enabled
to bring the enemy so quickly to an abrupt standstill.

They had seemingly experienced a veritable field day and thoroughly
enjoyed themselves on that occasion.

After this unsuccessful effort, the enemy evidently gave up the attempt
to gain possession of Arras and Vimy by a frontal attack and turned his
thoughts elsewhere.

Unfortunately, however, in the course of these operations, Monchy had
to be evacuated by the British, which enabled the Boche to gain
observation on the city which, thereafter, came in for a good amount of
shelling, and again the inhabitants were forced much against their will
to leave the stricken place.

All manner of heavy shell fell in the town, and the damage caused was
considerable, and it was no longer the haven of rest for the troops
which it had been a few months previously. Our wagon lines, meanwhile,
had not escaped undamaged, and were forced to change positions on
several occasions until, at last, comfortable quarters were obtained in
the little village of Bretencourt, where the houses still had roofs
covering them, as the hamlet was just outside the devastated area. When
affairs settled down once more, the battery positions were gradually
advanced, and we dug a new position east of Ficheux, where the guns
were meanwhile situated.

A forward section was established ahead in the railway cutting of the
Arras-Albert line, and we subjected the enemy to as much unpleasantness
as it lay in our power to devise.

We were not, however, any length of time in this sector, and were
removed to the adjoining one immediately to the south.

The line required rectifying in several places, and in a brilliant
minor operation, the village of Ayette was carried and remained firmly
in our hands.

Our new position was situated on the high ground to the north of
Adinfer Wood, immediately behind the village of the same name, but the
neighbourhood was much more peaceful than that which we had recently
quitted, as everywhere we had observation over the enemy, and naturally
he never created trouble under such circumstances.

The wagon lines were again moved, this time much further behind, to the
small village of Gaudiempre, where one might have imagined one was
completely out of the war area, it appeared so quiet.

The place was intact and all were ensconced in snug little billets,
while the horses were well off also, as opportunities for grazing were
afforded round about the neighbourhood.

Then the enemy’s second great offensive opened on the Lys, and all eyes
were turned in that direction, but everyone held the opinion that,
sooner or later, he would be brought to a standstill, which proved to
be the case.

In fact, throughout the whole of this trying period, the confidence
among all ranks was extraordinary. No one had the feeling that we were
going down and under, and it would have done the pessimists at home a
world of good to have caught a glimpse of conditions out in France and
of the cheery optimism that prevailed there. There was even
disappointment, in some quarters, that the enemy had not attempted to
attack us on this front, but he evidently thought discretion was the
better part of valour, for the defences were, by this time, very
strong, and it would have been strange if he had managed to penetrate
to any depth.

About the middle of May, it was the will of those in authority to rest
the Division a while, and although we were not in any urgent need of a
rest, we were not disinclined for it, as the season of the year was
favourable, and we pictured all manner of good times in store.

The Brigade, therefore, withdrew to the wagon lines, marched the
following day to Humbercourt, the village appointed for our resting
place.



CHAPTER XI.
The Turn of the Tide.


It invariably happened, when the Brigade came out for a period of rest,
that expectations of a real holiday were never fully realized, and
although the time passed pleasantly enough and we were favoured with
fine weather, all ranks were kept pretty busy. Many tactical schemes
were practised, and we had always to hold ourselves in readiness to
render assistance, at short notice, to the troops who were in the line,
for our Command was taking no risks and had not entirely given up the
possibility of a hostile attack on this area.

It must be admitted, however, that in the end everybody enjoyed
rehearsing these schemes, and we would have been well acquainted with
our duties had the emergency arisen. Our resentment, also, at being
called upon to partake of violent exercise so early in the morning,
completely disappeared after a while, the country looked so beautiful
at dawn, and we usually returned in time for breakfast, with
well-whetted appetites, after some three or four hours in the saddle.

Unfortunately, at this time, the scourge known as “Flanders Grippe,”
which had been prevalent throughout the Army, developed in our Brigade.
For a considerable time this epidemic paralysed us, more or less, as
about half our number was down with the disease at the same time.
Although it passes after taking its three days’ course, one is left
very weak and groggy for some time, and several of the men were very
seriously ill.

Inevitable inspections by Corps Commanders and minor officials passed
off without incident, but, of course, much labour and “eye-wash” was
expended as is always the case on these occasions. The Divisional Horse
Show, held towards the end of our rest, was undoubtedly the principal
diversion of our time out, as each unit naturally did its utmost to
outshine all others. The battery entered a gun team complete,
consisting of six dapple-grey horses, and we succeeded in securing the
second prize in the gunner’s Derby. Curiously enough, the winners, our
sister howitzer battery, won with five, out of six horses which had
been shown, over two years previously at Zeggers Capelle, in Flanders,
and who then carried off second prize in the competition with a team of
blacks. H.R.H. The Duke of Connaught afterwards inspected the
prize-winners, and evinced much interest on being told that ours was a
complete battery of grey horses.

Paris leave opened for both officers and men as a consolation for home
furlough being stopped, and many availed themselves of the opportunity
of having a few days’ enjoyment in the “Gay City.”

In the first days of June the Division returned to the line and
occupied the sector we had already been in prior to moving to Adinfer.
The area had become very quiet with one or two exceptions, and the
enemy did not subject our infantry to much shelling, and contented
himself with occasionally annoying them with trench mortars. But if, at
any time, he discovered the location of a battery position, that unit
had a most unhappy time. Four of our guns were placed in the railway
cutting, where we had previously had a forward section, and the
remainder were again detached some distance away. Mine shafts, which
were already in existence, were enlarged and the men had plenty cover
on top of them.

Some little time afterwards certain indications pointed to the fact
that the enemy contemplated business once more on this front, and as
our guns were situated awkwardly where it would be impossible to
withdraw them quickly, we were directed to construct a new position
further behind. The work proceeded briskly, and, when completed, four
of the pieces were withdrawn and placed there, the other two remaining
in the railway embankment. The main position was a long way back, and
the guns could only just reach the enemy support trenches, consequently
they were only to be fired in case of a general S.O.S., and all the
shoots were accomplished by the forward section. Much time was spent in
making our new quarters shipshape, and the ground was well suited for
mining, as it consisted principally of chalk, and eventually all ranks
were comfortably installed in spacious underground quarters, although,
at the moment, they were quite unnecessary, and many lay out in the
open during the warm summer nights. The principal thing to do now was
to make sure that the officers and men did not stagnate for lack of
occupation and to find means to keep them hard and fit. Physical
exercises were indulged in during the morning, and sports of all kinds
were organised, both at the battery positions and at the wagon
lines—the latter having taken up their quarters at the village of
Baillemont.

A modified kind of base-ball, introduced by an energetic and
enthusiastic Canadian subaltern, became very popular with the men,
while the corps ran a polo-club of sorts for the officers. A fairly
level patch of ground was selected which possessed a certain amount of
grass, and the numerous shell holes were filled in and levelled off by
fatigue parties, with the result that it became moderately good. The
polo ponies, however, left something to be desired, and it was no
uncommon sight to see a young officer appear mounted on a stalwart
wheeler, the best he could do for himself from among the horses in his
section. Possibly the explanation was that he had found a horse which
he could suitably “rein in”.

Meanwhile the enemy’s third big offensive had come and gone and the
British Commander-in-Chief’s famous “back to the wall” order of the day
to his armies. Still we waited, but nothing unusual happened; then in
the middle of July the French were heavily attacked, and once more the
clouds appeared on the horizon. There was great enthusiasm when it
became known that our Allies had counter-attacked, and were driving the
enemy out of the Marne pocket, and when the daily bulletins arrived
there was always a scramble among the men to read them. Then the
British stroke fell south of the river Somme at Villers Brettonneux,
and excellent news, as to our progress, came through, which raised
everyone’s hopes to a high degree. Our artillery fire was increased
daily, and affairs became more lively, while flying was in full swing
and continued night and day. Both sides paid much attention to bombing,
and our Airmen freely besprinkled enemy territory with their bombs by
day, whereas the foe rarely attempted raids over our lines during
daylight. However, after dusk, the air was filled with the planes, as
the weather was particularly favourable, and the hum of the machines
coming and going was incessant throughout the whole night. At times one
could scarcely get any sleep for the continual drone they made, like
the hum of gigantic bees around their hives. One thing certain was that
we had almost complete control of the air and both out-numbered and
out-witted the enemy to a marked extent. It was most unpleasant to hear
the noise of the hostile planes drawing nearer, for one could not
mistake the beat made by the German machines. The amount of bombing
experienced by us was quite bad enough in all truth, but we used to
smile when contemplating what our foes must be suffering at the hands
of our Airmen, as truly it was ten times worse.

During this period the two counter offensives were progressing
favourably in the south, and we suspected that something would be doing
on our front before long, as the din of battle was creeping further
north. It came as no surprise, therefore, when serious fighting
commenced north of the Somme, and the enemy retreated from Serre and
later withdrew in error from Ablainzevelle. As soon as he discovered
his mistake he attempted to retake it, but, by that time, our men were
firmly lodged there and could not be shifted from the village.

In the middle of August, to everyone’s satisfaction, it became known
that we were to be up and doing at no distant date, and preparations
were immediately and silently set on foot. Throughout each night a
continual stream of teams and wagons conveyed thousands of rounds of
ammunition up the line to battery positions, and fresh dumps were
placed in forward localities. New battle positions were constructed in
advanced positions and stocked with shells, and we only awaited the
order to occupy them. Instructions were issued to wagon lines that all
surplus kit and stores were to be left behind, as a strenuous time was
in store for us, and all ranks responded with a will to the hard work
these preparations necessitated. Drivers were elated at the prospect of
a change from their humdrum existence, and their enthusiasm knew no
bounds. New reinforcing batteries appeared like mushrooms during the
night, and lay safely ensconced in their appointed places in readiness
for the coming fray, while the neighbourhood behind the lines bristled
with activity and also with new arrivals. We believed that probably
these preparations were being made in order to take the Henin Ridge in
front, and no one imagined that the coming operations would consist of
more than a local attack with a limited objective, as little or no
information had been given to anyone. It is true that rumours were
abroad, that our opponents were preparing to withdraw during the coming
winter to their defences in the Hindenburg Line, which meant that we
would be left most uncomfortably situated in the wilderness throughout
that season. Little did we dream, however, that this was the
commencement of a long series of hammer blows, lasting over several
months, and employing millions of men, and destined to be the last and
greatest battle the world has ever seen, ending with the complete
demoralisation of the enemy’s forces. The turn of the tide was at hand
at last!



CHAPTER XII.
Through the Hindenburg Line.


Before the serious work ahead of us could be undertaken, it was
necessary to shear off an awkward little bulge in the enemy’s line,
which included the ruined hamlet of Moyenneville. The corps on our
right were to take part in an assault two days previous to the
commencement of our own advance, so it was considered expedient to
accomplish the above task at the same time. Consequently, during the
big attack, delivered in the south on the 21st of August, which brought
our troops level with the Arras-Albert railway line, our small
side-show passed off successfully almost unnoticed. Desperate fighting
had also taken place in the neighbourhood of Morlancourt, just north of
the river Somme, in which the enemy troops had been driven back after
stubborn resistance. They thereupon evacuated the town of Albert, as
the place was getting too hot for them, and retired on positions to the
east of it. Our guns were now moved into their battle positions, and on
the eve of the attack everything was ready and in order. For once in a
way the weather was favourable, and this augured well for the speedy
advancement of the guns, which was essential for the success of the
operations.

At dawn, therefore, on the 23rd inst., without any preliminary
bombardment, but, preceded by a dense creeping barrage and supported by
innumerable tanks, the infantry set out on their long journey. The men
swept on, capturing the villages of Boyelles and Hamelincourt at an
early hour, without meeting much opposition or suffering undue
casualties. The day went well throughout and all objectives were taken,
and by nightfall, the vast machinery in the rear commenced to move
slowly forward. Batteries were advanced and supplied with ammunition,
by their echelons, ready for the next bout, and wagon lines occupied
the positions only just vacated by the guns. The attack was continued
on the following morning, which necessitated the moving up of the guns
once more, and the same thing continued day after day. The enemy was
slowly and relentlessly pressed back without a pause or breathing
space, and once this gigantic force was set in motion it was
exceedingly difficult to stop it, as our opponents were soon to find
out to their cost.

As the fight proceeded, our comrades on the left joined in, and
gradually the battle spread further north, assuming huge dimensions,
until it reached the river Scarpe. The enemy was caught napping before
Monchy, and the Dominion forces in one bound everywhere overwhelmed
their opponents, not only capturing the village but gaining ground to
the extent of two miles beyond it. By this time, Croisilles and St.
Leger had fallen into our hands, but the enemy made a most determined
stand in front of Ecoust, and a very stiff tussle took place for
several days before we eventually gained possession of it.

Some extraordinary incidents took place during the course of these
operations. The long-hoped for open warfare was upon us at last, and
the gunners’ dream of galloping into action and firing with open sights
at close range was an accomplished fact almost before we were aware of
it. On one occasion, the whole Brigade, immediately at the close of
executing a creeping barrage, limbered up, and topping the crest in
front came face to face with the enemy, and dropped into action
alongside our advancing infantry. The enemy machine gunners were lined
up on a ridge some four hundred yards away, but on seeing us they
decamped with all speed, probably believing us to be a regiment of
cavalry. At any rate, if they had stood their ground and manned their
guns, they would have assuredly wiped us off the face of the map almost
before we could have opened fire on them. At the end of another day’s
work, our battery position was scarcely two hundred yards behind our
front line, where the infantry had installed themselves.

The wagon lines were now well over late enemy territory, on the ground
where his batteries had been situated, and the mess was almost beyond
description. In some cases his positions were entirely obliterated,
which spoke volumes for the accuracy of the fire of our heavies,
directed by our gallant airmen, and if it had not been for the
quantities of ammunition and dead horses littered around, it would have
been impossible to have known that positions ever existed there. Mine
shafts had been entirely closed up by the explosion of the great
shells, and a conglomeration of huge craters marked their locality.
There was no rest for anyone these days, and no men were called upon to
perform more strenuous work than our little drivers, whose untiring and
never failing energy was worthy of the highest praise and admiration:
not only had they to care for their pair of horses, but were
incessantly on the go twixt gun positions, dumps, and wagon lines under
the most trying and difficult circumstances, and, at the same time, the
latter were changing positions frequently. However, they never faltered
or grumbled, and had always a cheery smile on their faces, even when
they returned in the middle of the night dead beat. For days on end it
was impossible to get out of one’s clothes, and sleep was almost an
unknown quantity: however, what did it matter as long as we continued
to advance, and in spite of everything—this was a long way better than
the monotonous routine of trench warfare. Everybody looked upon it in
this light, and the excitement and never ending novelty of the
experiences under which we were living, carried us on through thick and
thin.

The corps on our left, meanwhile, had by a superhuman effort penetrated
the great Drocourt-Queant switch of the Hindenburg line, and firmly
maintained their grip on the ground to the east of it, and all counter
attacks made by the enemy, to dislodge them, proved unavailing. The
troops to the south had also effected good progress, and the ill-fated
town of Bapaume had again changed hands and passed for the last time
into the keeping of the Allies. Thus it came about that the enemy
troops, in spite of their very determined resistance in the
neighbourhood of Ecoust and Mory, found themselves in a most perilous
position, as the Dominion forces were now well in their rear, and were
carrying out a turning movement from a northerly direction. Therefore,
they were forced to do something, without further delay, which resulted
in a swift retirement on to the Hindenburg line some six miles to the
rear.

It was a most interesting and instructive chase, and the enemy
retreated so fast that it was with the greatest difficulty that we
could keep up and maintain contact with him. The battery had
reluctantly to abandon a captured German field gun which had been doing
valiant work as the seventh gun for several days against its late
owners, for we had neither time or the means to convey surplus
equipment along with us. It was the kind of day that one reads about in
“Field Artillery Training” or even endeavours to imitate while
manœuvring out in rest, but for the first time we were doing it in
reality. The battery dropped into action on innumerable occasions
during the course of the day, and had only time to fire a few rounds
before the enemy had decamped out of range. Then we would limber up
with all speed, the teams waiting the orthodox two hundred yards in
rear and to the flank, and gallop forward and take up a new position
right out in the open, and help the enemy on his way with a few
reminders that we were up and after him, and that he would do well to
hurry.

By evening our foes had snugly entrenched themselves behind the great
Hindenburg barrier, and we again came face to fare with this formidable
obstacle. The line had, meanwhile, been kept in an excellent state of
preservation, and it was quite out of the question to make a frontal
attack on it without first cutting the belts of broad wire and treating
the emplacements to a prolonged bombardment. Another formidable
hindrance in our way and placed between us, moreover, was the famous
Canal Du Nord, which was entirely dry in most places. It was a
considerable breadth across, and could obviously not be bridged as long
as the enemy kept watch over it from the opposite side, and it varied
from forty to seventy feet in depth. Thus, for the time being, the line
settled down stationary until this task could be accomplished, for it
was not the intention of our Command that we should sit down for the
winter before this great fortress, as our enemies wished and expected
us to do.

Our opponents were too busily engaged removing their heavy pieces of
Artillery back to a place of safety to subject us to a great amount of
annoyance, and, as the weather remained good, the work of bringing our
heavies up was accomplished quickly and effectively. The battery took
up a position in our former front line facing Bourlon Wood, with the
ruined village of Mouevres immediately ahead, while the forward section
was placed in part of the Hindenburg line itself, south-east of
Pronville. Wire cutting was undertaken and carried out by all field
batteries, and the heavies pounded enemy emplacements and communication
trenches in the rear.

Bombing by aircraft became intensive on both sides, and the enemy
adopted new tactics by coming over after dark, and, waiting for the gun
flashes, proceeded to drop bombs on the batteries. A fine spectacle was
witnessed two nights in succession in the form of a super-Gotha bombing
machine brought down in flames. Our small fighting planes were in the
habit of flying at a high altitude, keeping watch over our lines and
lying in wait for these monsters. As soon as one of them was picked out
in the rays of a searchlight, others would concentrate at once on it,
whereupon the archies immediately opened fire. Then far above a light
would twinkle out several times, which was a sign for the anti-aircraft
batteries to cease fire. Everything remained still for a while, the
searchlights always focused on their prey, which endeavoured to dodge
out of the brilliant light, but in vain, owing to its unwieldiness.
Then suddenly from out of the darkness a little object shot alongside
the giant plane and spat tracer bullets into it, whereupon it instantly
caught fire, and slowly heeling over commenced its downward journey to
destruction.

Fierce fighting continued to the south, and by a series of brilliant
operations our troops had everywhere come in contact with the
Hindenburg Line, and commenced pounding its defences for the further
advance. At the beginning of the fourth week in September preparations
were almost complete for the coming assault, which would require all
the energy and fortitude we could display. The Division was
side-slipped down to the neighbourhood of Havrincourt, as it was
familiar ground to us, after our experiences in November and December
of the previous year. The policy at this juncture was, as far as it
could be carried out, to place Divisions in localities with which they
had already become acquainted. Our battle position was situated on the
outskirts of the small hamlet of Demicourt, and we were to cross the
canal a few hours after zero by means of a ramp already prepared and
carefully camouflaged at a point where it passed through our lines. If
all went according to expectations we were to follow a line due east,
and, passing to the north of Havrincourt, take up a position, already
known to us, on the railway cutting south of Flesquieres, although as
yet it was in enemy possession.

The great battle opened on the morning of the 27th inst., under
excellent conditions, and it is now known to everyone how the crossing
of the canal was effected by means of scaling ladders, and, in some
instances, by the use of life-belts.

From first to last the day went smoothly and well, and by nightfall the
great Hindenburg Line, upon which the enemy depended so much and in
which he had such faith, was everywhere behind us, and we were through,
at last, to open country beyond!

It only remained for the Allies’ great Commander-in-Chief to deliver
the final knock-out blow at his own time and discretion.

At this time the writer was reluctantly forced to leave the Battery on
account of ill health, and was sent home, and it is a source of keen
regret to him that on that account he missed the closing weeks of the
great campaign.

It is now a matter of history how our Armies, after hot and incessant
fighting, swept the enemy divisions out of France.

On Armistice Day, the Division was in possession of Maubeuge, and thus
the Guards found themselves on territory which they had occupied in the
early days of the War, prior to the retreat from Mons.

After three and a half years of strenuous warfare, the Battery is now
lying at rest in Cologne, where it keeps its silent “Watch on the
Rhine.”

THE END.





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