FOOTNOTES:[5]SeeAppendix III.[6]SeeAppendix IV.
[5]SeeAppendix III.
[5]SeeAppendix III.
[6]SeeAppendix IV.
[6]SeeAppendix IV.
"On the night of July 12th we were treated to a new form of gas, 'mustard oil.' The two Companies billeted in Ypres suffered heavily, the casualties numbering 3 officers and 114 other ranks." Thus theLancashire Fusiliers' Annual. The following letter, which I wrote in the Ramparts, on July 13, after alluding to the working party recorded at the end of the last chapter, describes that great bombardment of Ypres:
"On Wednesday evening (July 11) I had had a working party, with Sergeant Clews, in the front line. Dickinson had a party on my right. The work was: repair of parapet and parados knocked in by recent shelling. While we were at it the Germans sent over trench-mortars, a kind of shell which rises to a great height, looking like a burning snake, and then descends and pierces right into the earth, exploding underneath and sending the earth above it in all directions. The men all crouched against the parapet with a certain amount of wind up; but they were well toour left. Giffin, who had a party some distance to our left, said that they were about ten yards to his right. He and his party were covered with dirt when one of them exploded. Dickinson and I ceased work about 1 a.m. and returned. While returning, a thick mist came on. Dickinson's party was in front; my party following behind his. It was all we could do to keep in touch; and we almost lost the way. The party in front kept halting while Dickinson tried to find the way; then they would go on at a great speed, so much so that we had to run to catch up, floundering into shell-holes; the men were cursing and swearing, each thinking that he knew the way himself: on the whole it was a box-up; but, as usual, we got home all right eventually. No casualties—two days without any casualties!
"To-day I am Orderly Officer. My period of duty began at 6 p.m. yesterday and continues until 6 p.m. to-day. My chief duty is to see that the road is repaired after shelling. There is a party permanently detailed for the job under Sergeant Baldwin; they do not go out at night because their working hours are from 4 to 9 in the afternoons.
"Captain Blamey, Captain Bodington, Captain Briggs and Gratton were in for dinner yesterday evening. Gratton is now Assistant Adjutant at Headquarters. Every day Colonel Best-Dunkley goes to a certain house(Hasler House at St. Jean) which has an upstairs still left, and, through field-glasses, gazes at the front over which we shall have to advance. On these trips Gratton accompanies him, and has to take bearings and answer silly questions. He says that he is becoming most horribly bored with it all. While they were at it yesterday a shell exploded just by them. Gratton says that he jumped down below as soon as he heard it come; he was hit by one or two bricks and covered with dirt; when he looked round again he expected to find the Colonel done in, but found him safe and sound!
"Yesterday evening Captain Andrews, Giffin, Dickinson and Allen all went out on working parties. I remained behind as Orderly Officer. Captain Briggs and Gratton remained in my dug-out with me. After a while Gratton had to go to Brigade Headquarters next door to discuss a map with the Brigade-Major. Soon after he had left us—about 10.10 p.m.—a terrific shelling of the city began. Shells were bursting everywhere; the ground frequently vibrated as if mines were going off; dumps were blown up; and very soon parts of the city were in flames. It was a sight such as I have never seen before; at times the whole scene was as light as day; the flames encircled the already ruined and broken houses, bringing them to the ground with a rumbling crash. It was a grand andawful sight—a firework display better than any at Belle Vue, and free of charge! The sky was perforated with brilliant yellow light, and the shells were whizzing and crashing all round. The air was thick with sulphur. So much so that we did not smell something much more serious than sulphur. Amidst all the turmoil little gas-shells were exploding all over. As we could not smell the gas we did not take any notice of it. We little dreamt what the results were going to be. We knew not what a revelation the morrow had in store for us!
"At about midnight I went to bed, and at about 6 this morning I heard Giffin returning from his working party. He was muttering something about gas and saying that he would be going sick with it in a few days, but I was too sleepy to take much notice. I rose at 10.30 and made my personal reconnaissance of the road, but only found two very serious shell-holes actually on the road. These I pointed out to Sergeant Baldwin and got his men at them. Then I began to hear things about gas. I saw Corporal Flint (our gas N.C.O.!) being led by Sergeant Donovan and Corporal Livesey in a very bad state; he could hardly walk, his eyes were streaming, and he was moaning that he had lost his eyesight. So I began to inquire as to what was the matter. I was then informed that there had been a whole lot of men gassed. Then Captain Andrews sent for me and questionedme about gas last night. I told him frankly that I had not smelt any. He said that it was very strange, because when he got back early this morning 'the place simply stank of it.' He said that there would be a devil of a row about it; there were about ten casualties already! But, as time went on, the numbers began to grow rapidly. Yet I had not smelt it; the sentry had not smelt it; and the Sergeant-Major had not smelt it! After some time the Colonel appeared on the scene. He informed us that A Company had got seventy-two casualties from last night's gas! (A Company were billeted in the Soap Factory, near the Cathedral.) We felt a little relieved, because we realized that ours was not the only company and by no means the worst; so we could not be held responsible, as we were fearing that we might be—myself in particular, as the only officer on the spot at the time, for not ordering box-respirators on. I, of course, never thought of ordering box-respirators, considering that I smelt no gas myself! The Colonel further told us that three officers in A Company—Walsh, Hickey, and Kerr—were suffering from gas. Hickey is very bad.
"During the day our casualties have risen considerably. They are now twenty-eight, including Corporal Flint, Corporal Pendleton, Corporal Heap, Pritchard, Giffin's servant, and Critchley, my servant. There have beenheavy casualties all over the city. The Boche has had a regular harvest if he only knew it! Over a thousand gas-casualties have been admitted to hospital from this city to-day. And many who have not yet reported sick are feeling bad. So much so that the Brigade-Major has agreed that all our working parties, but one small one under Allen, shall be cancelled for to-night. I feel all right. I must have a strong anti-gas constitution. This is a new kind of gas; the effects are delayed; but I do not think I am likely to get it now since I have hardly smelt any yet.
"The Germans are doing the obvious thing—trying to prevent or hinder our forthcoming offensive. I notice that they have attacked near Nieuport and advanced to a depth of 600 yards on a 1400 yards front. I have been expecting an enemy attack here, because it is the best thing the Germans can do if they have any sense; and I have repeatedly said so, but have been told that I am silly, that the Germans dare not attack us because they are not strong enough. For a day I held the view that peace was coming in a week or two! But Bethmann-Hollweg's straightforward declaration that Germany will not make peace without annexations or indemnities, that she is out to conquer, has altered things. We now know exactly how we stand. Germany is still out for grab. Therefore she is far from beaten.Ipso facto,peace is out of the question. The end is not yet in sight. There is still a long struggle before us. I think the forthcoming battle here will be the semi-final: the final will be fought in the East about Christmas or the New Year. Constantinople still remains the key to victory, if victory is to be won by fighting."
My diary of July 13 concludes with the statement: "Captain Briggs's A Company—the remains of it—are coming to these billets to join with us. Gas casualties in Ypres (latest) over 3,000."
It was about this time (in the middle of July) that, in the course of one of my letters to my school-friend, Mr. K. L. P. Martin, then—having been rejected for service in the Army as medically unfit—a student at Manchester University, I had remarked that I would probably get a "Blighty" in a fortnight; and I would, therefore, want something interesting to read in hospital: would he please send meEngland Since Waterloo, by J. A. R. Marriott, whom I had heard lecturing at the Oxford Union on "The Problem of the Near East," in February, 1916, when I was a recruit in the 29th Royal Fusiliers?
Mr. Martin, who was staying with anotherfriend, Mr. George Fasnacht, at Clayton Bridge, replied as follows:
"The Hollies, Clayton Bridge,"Manchester."July 23rd, 1917."Dear Floyd,
"Many thanks for your last letter. So you consider that you are likely to become a casualty in the near future. I hope not. Though, if such an event should take place, I hope it will not be serious and will involve a sojourn in England for at least six months.
"I will order the Marriott at once. I decline to accept it as off the debt I owe you. It will do as a twenty-first birthday present, as I have received no news re Lovat Fraser. As soon as the book comes I will forward it on.
"Teddy[7]and myself had a glorious cycle ride yesterday. We rode to town, took the train to Ashley, then rode to Knutsford via Mobberley. At Knutsford we had tea and then proceeded to Pickmere where we had a row; then on to Great Budworth, Arley, Rostherne and Ashley. The country was glorious, a fine day, good roads, midsummer and Cheshire—the combination needs beating.
"I may say that I am extremely pleased at Churchill going to the Ministry of Munitions.
"Both Teddy and myself intend getting our photos taken this week, and I will forward copies of both to Middleton Junction."Best wishes,"Yours,"Kenneth Martin."
The Marriott was destined to have a curious history. As these pages will show, I got my "Blighty" in a fortnight all right. Meanwhile the book was on its way from England. It arrived after I had left the shores of France behind, me. I never received it. Kenneth Martin visited me in hospital at Worsley Hall in August and told me that he had sent it. I had to tell him that it had not reached me. When I returned to the Battalion in the spring of 1918, Padre Newman informed me that a book had come out for me after I had been wounded, that he had read it with much interest, and that it was now in the custody of Captain J. C. Latter, M.C. Latter was one of the original 2/5th officers who had been wounded in 1916 and who returned to the Battalion immediately after the Third Battle of Ypres, in August, 1917, and succeeded Reginald Andrews as Adjutant. But when Padre Newman told me this Captain A. H. G. Griggs, M.C., was Adjutant and Latter was away with Sir Herbert Plumer in Italy. However, Latter returned once more in the summer of 1918, and mentioned that he hada book belonging to me; but he disappeared again—first on to the Brigade Staff and then to a Staff job further away—as suddenly as he had reappeared. I did not see him again until we were both once more in civilian clothes, and I called at the Barracks at Bury one August afternoon in 1919. He again mentioned the Marriott, remarking that he had discovered it in his kit in August, 1917, and had not the faintest idea how it had got there!
FOOTNOTE:[7]Edward James Martin, Second-Lieutenant in the Seaforth Highlanders, afterwards killed in action, December 1917.
[7]Edward James Martin, Second-Lieutenant in the Seaforth Highlanders, afterwards killed in action, December 1917.
[7]Edward James Martin, Second-Lieutenant in the Seaforth Highlanders, afterwards killed in action, December 1917.
After the bombardment of Ypres there still remained seven more days before our memorable nineteen days' sojourn in the ghastly Salient was to end. And memorable those days certainly were. Nearly every day brought with it some fresh adventure. For any boy who, like this boy, craved for excitement, and, while hating war theoretically and disliking it temperamentally, was not blind to the romance and grand drama of it all, there was ample satisfaction in the Great War; and perhaps on no other sector of the line did all the factors which are conducive to excitement obtain as they did in the dead city of the Salient and the shell-ploughed fields around it.
My diary of July 14 carries on as follows:
"Up about 2 a.m. Twenty-eight more men in B Company reported sick with gas, but they were not sent to hospital. The M.O. said that they would be excused duty to-night and must report sick to-morrow morning. We had a little more gas in theafternoon. I think a German heavy exploded one of our own gas dumps near the Canal Bank. A dense cloud of vapour rose in that vicinity, and we felt the smell slowly drifting towards us in the almost breathless calm of a bright summer afternoon. Giffin, who was the senior officer present at the time, ordered respirators on. But it did not last long, so we went on with our tea.
"In the evening Giffin and I were on a working party with Sergeant Clews, Sergeant Dawson and forty-five other ranks. We proceeded to Potijze Dump and drew tools; thence to Pagoda Trench and carried on with the making of a new trench branching off that trench. All went well for the first three quarters of an hour. Our guns were pounding the German trenches the whole time—the first preliminaries in the bombardment preceding our offensive. But the Germans do not always allow us to have all our own way in these matters; they always retaliate. And, by Jove, we did get some retaliation too! At 10.50 p.m. quite suddenly, a heavy shell exploded just near us; and a regular strafe commenced. I was standing near a shell-hole at the time, so I immediately crouched where I was; the men digging at the trench at once took refuge in the trench. In a few minutes I mustered sufficient courage to make a dash for the trench. I got there just in time, for, soon afterwards, ashell burst almost where I had been. They were dropping all round us, both in front of and behind the trench. Only the trench could possibly have saved us. And it was a marvel that no one was hurt as it was. I honestly expected every moment to be my last; it was a miracle that none of our party were hit. If we had remained out in the open I firmly believe that the whole lot would have been knocked out. It seemed as if it was never going to cease. I never went through such a disagreeable experience in my life before. Then, to crown all, gas shells began to be mixed with the others. There was soon a regular stink of gas; I smelt it this time all right. We got our respirators on, which added to our discomfort. This went on for quite a long time. Then it also began to pour with rain and we were all drenched. The night was pitch dark. Every now and then the exploding shells around us and far away, the burning dumps near Ypres and the star shells along the line, lit up the whole panorama with an effect like that of lightning. The water and mud grew thick in the trench; and still the shells fell thickly all around. We were thankful for the discomfort of rain because it saved us from being gassed."
"July 15th.
"About 1 a.m. Giffin decided, the shelling having slackened a little, that we had betterget down a mine-shaft near; so we stumbled along to it in anything but a happy frame of mind. Everybody was cursing. Despite our discomfort, however, the humour of the situation under such circumstances cannot fail to strike one; I could not help chuckling. Eventually we got down the mine. It was horribly damp and dirty down there, but the atmosphere was much clearer; there was no smell of gas. That was a relief. And we felt much safer here! No heavies could reach us at such a depth as this. But it was all darkness. We remained in this subterranean sanctuary for three hours, standing on a water-covered floor, amidst dripping walls, in the darkness; above us, all the time, we could hear the dull thud and feel the vibration of the bursting shells. For want of anything better to pass the time away the men began to air their opinions about the war to each other. 'We're winning!' 'Are we heck as like; Billy's winning. Judging from t'newspapers you'd think t'war was over long since! They keep telling us he's beat; but they want to come out 'ere and see for 'emselves.... They say t'last seven years'll be t'worst!' Such was the conversation which was going on. Others had a sing-song. 'Hi-tiddle-ite! Take me back to Blighty; Blighty is the place for me!' rang out with great enthusiasm from the darkness underground.
"When we did go upstairs again daylight had dawned. We left the mine at 4.20 a.m. Giffin went, with one or two men, back to the trench to replace the camouflage; he told me to get back to the Ramparts with the remainder as quickly as possible. I did so. We went along the road all the way from Potijze to Ypres. We were literally chased by gas-shells; we had to run in respirators as fast as we could go; we came round by the Menin Gate and got back into the Ramparts, safe and sound, about 4.45, very thankful that nobody in our party had got hurt. Other battalions out on working parties had had a good many casualties. One party of the King's Own had had one killed and eleven wounded by one shell on the Canal Bank.
"When I got back to the Mess dug-out I found Captain Andrews, Dickinson, and Allen all sitting there. They had not been to bed. They had had a deuce of a time. The shells had been falling here as well—also the gas. But due precautions against gas had this time been taken! Captain Andrews declared that the rain had saved the lives of hundreds of men. Giffin got back soon after me. He is feeling the gas. We all got to bed about 6 a.m....
"It was 3 in the afternoon when I got up. Before rising I read nine letters which were awaiting me—somepost!"
After describing the happenings of theprevious night in a letter written home that Sunday afternoon (July 15) I went on to say: "I shall pull through all these exciting little episodes all right. I am quite all right so far. Cheer up! Better times in store! We all look forward to that great day 'When war shall be no more.' It will be a glorious day when, at last, peace is attained. I am looking forward to the happy days to come and intend to have a good time then. We are now going through the storm. But there is a calm ahead: 'Peace shall follow battle, Night shall end in day.'"
My diary of July 15 carries on:
"In the evening I went on a working party with Allen. It was a case of extending the trench in Pagoda Wood another fifty yards. We set to work at 10 a.m. Our guns were bombarding the enemy trenches most of the time, but there were not many shells coming from the enemy. A few fell some hundred to two hundred yards away during the night. Our chief annoyance on this occasion was a German machine-gun firing from Kaiser Bill. It swept our trench completely. One man in my platoon, Berry by name, was wounded in the leg. It was a wonder there were no more casualties: the bullets were flying amongst us in great profusion. But they were mostly low, so not very dangerous. 'This is the place for "Blighties"!' Lance-Corporal Livesey encouragingly observedto me while they were whistling round us. We stayed at the job quite a long time. I was beginning to wonder when Allen was going to pronounce it finished; the men were obviously fed up. At last he let half the party go at 2.30 a.m. and told me to take them back. We returned by the road all the way from Potijze to the Menin Gate. It was 3 a.m. when we got back to the Ramparts. It was getting quite light. Allen followed on with the remainder about half an hour later; he came through the fields. We had some refreshment and then went to bed."
"July 16th.
"I did not get up until 3 p.m. this afternoon. Since 8 Platoon has practically ceased to exist owing to gas casualties, 7 and 8 are again combined under Giffin, and I am second-in-command. Baldwin remains platoon sergeant. If and when we get sufficient reinforcements the two platoons will separate again.
"The Germans have been bombarding Poperinghe with very big shells to-day. The shops, I hear, are all shut. It looks as if they intend to destroy the town. Our great bombardment of the enemy trenches is in progress."
That evening I wrote a lengthy letter home. In the course of it I said: "The padre is in hospital at present, having been wounded by a shell in the streets of the citythe other day. It is only a very slight wound, so he will not be in hospital long. With regard to the four officers who were wounded on July 1—Ronald is in hospital in Bristol doing well; Halstead, with a wound in the stomach, is going to 'Blighty' shortly; Barker and Wood are very bad indeed, the former was given up altogether the other day. They are much too bad to cross the water yet. We were all amused to read in theManchester Guardianthat Halstead had been lately in the Army Ordnance Corps; it is, of course, incorrect.
"Whenever Colonel Best-Dunkley or Major Brighten come into our Mess they always ask me what I think of the war and when I think it is going to end. They came in yesterday. Colonel Best-Dunkley, with his customary squint and twitch of the nose (I have been told that he contracted this habit as the result of shell-shock on the Somme), said: 'Well, "General Floyd," what do you think of the war? How long is it going to last?' I replied: 'February, 1918.' They then always give vent to great amusement, especially when I mention Palestine; but I really think this sinister commanding officer is not at all badly disposed towards me; in fact I am inclined to think that he likes me! I do not dislike him at all.
"I am Orderly Officer to-night so am now going to bed. The Germans are sendingcopious gas shells over while I am writing this, but we have got the gas curtain down in our dug-out and it has been sprayed; all precautions have been taken; so we ought to be all right. There is also a good deal of shelling of a heavier kind going on; our guns are giving the German trenches hell at present; we have kept up a consistent bombardment all day. The Germans are giving us some back now; but I feel quite safe in this dug-out! I am glad I am not on a working party to-night. So good night! Again I say, 'cheer up!' It's a funny world we live in!"
My diary of July 17 states:
"Up 11 a.m. Had breakfast while dressing. Reconnoitred the road; all correct. At 1.10 p.m. I reported to Captain Warburton at Brigade Headquarters about a working party for which I was detailed. Carberry, the Brigade bombing officer, explained to me what was to be done. At 1.30 I set off with a party of Sergeant Clews and thirty-four other ranks including Corporal Chamley and Lance-Corporal Topping. The job consisted of carrying boxes of bombs from a dump at the junction of Milner Walk and the road to White Château; then detonating bombs which were not already detonated; then carrying S.A.A. from one spot to another about twenty yards away. I left Corporal Chamley in charge of the first dump, where the men left their equipment. I went backwards and forwards myself. On one occasion, while I was at the junction of Milner Walk and the road, General Stockwell appeared. He asked me what we were doing; I told him; he expressed himself satisfied and proceeded up the trench. It was a very hot day and I felt very tired. My head began to ache. We finished at 5.30 p.m. Then we came back. Our guns were blazing away all day, making a great row. It was 6.30 when we got back to the Ramparts. I reported to Carberry at Brigade. I felt very bad indeed now. The exercise in the heat, after gas, was taking effect upon me. I did not have any dinner, but lay down. I was told that I looked white. I felt rotten. Giffin also is bad; he got some more gas last night. A good many more have reported sick with gas to-day. I think I have got a slight touch of it now. However, as the evening advanced I began to feel much better. By midnight I felt quite well again."
On July 18 I wrote home as follows: "More gas shells came over last night. We had the gas curtains down again, but, even so, gas is bound to get in. There are fresh gas casualties every day. The number is rising rapidly. Giffin has, at last, reported sick with gas and has departed to hospital to-day—another officer less! So now instead of having no platoon at all I find myself in command of the two, 7 and 8!"
I never saw Lieutenant Giffin again. I shook hands with him in the dug-out and said good-bye when he announced that he had reported sick and was going down the line. He went away and never returned; I have heard absolutely nothing of him since.
"Our guns have been blazing away all night, and are still pounding the enemy lines. Our bombardment is now going full swing. But the Germans are sending shells over too. Five B Company men were wounded by one shell, just outside, this morning. One of them was Hartshorne. He has got four shrapnel wounds and is off to hospital. I have been speaking to him this afternoon. He said that they were hurting a little, but he seemed quite happy about it. He said that he wished he was in hospital in Middleton! It is nothing very serious; it should prove a nice 'Blighty' case!
"The padre is now back from hospital! He has not been there long, has he?
"A few of those men who went to hospital with gas on July 13 were marked for 'Blighty' and were just off, when General Jeudwine stopped them and said that as few as possible from this Division must be sent home at present. So, instead of going back, they have turned up here again as 'fit.' Hard luck!"
My diary of the same date (July 18) states that in the afternoon "I went on a workingparty with Sergeant Clews and fifteen men. We were filling in shell-holes on the road near St. Jean. After we had filled in a few we got shelled. We took refuge behind an artillery dug-out for about an hour. The shells were falling close all the time. One fell less than six yards from me. I quite thought we were going to have some casualties, but the only one we had was one man who got a scratch in the arm with a piece of shrapnel. At 5.15 we decided to come back via a trench, as the shelling was still going on. All got back safely. But it is most disconcerting—one cannot go out on a little job like that in the afternoon without having the wind put up us vertical! I had tea and dinner. Then to bed. I felt very hot and could not get to sleep. Allen returned from a working party at 10.15 p.m. There was a strafe on at 10.30; the German trenches were being raided in four places."
The following day, July 19, I wrote to my mother as follows:
"I got up at 2.30 a.m. this morning, and with Sergeant Clews's working party filled in the remaining shell-holes (outside Hasler House). We had a moderately quiet time. Only about three shells burst anywhere near us the whole time. Yet we were working in broad daylight! We got back at 5.45 and I then went to bed again. I had breakfast in bed. Then some post arrived: a letter fromFather dated July 16 and the enclosed from Norman Floyd. As I expected, he, too, is now in the Army; has been for some months. He is in the 74th Training Reserve Battalion, and is thinking of going in for a commission. I have advised him to do so—in a letter which I have just written to him.
"I got up at midday and had lunch. The afternoon I took easy. The padre was in for tea. While we were having tea newspapers arrived. Captain Andrews opened theDaily Mailand exclaimed with horror: 'Good heavens! Churchill's been appointed Minister of Munitions!'
"'Hurrah!' I exclaimed, nearly tumbling off my seat in my excitement.
"'Good God! How awful!' dolefully exclaimed the padre, looking at me in amazement that I should express satisfaction at such a catastrophe. 'What? Are you pleased to hear that Churchill is in office again?' inquired he and Dickinson in surprise!
"'Rather! he's one of our two most brilliant statesmen,' I replied.
"Thereupon an argument began and continued throughout tea. I must say I never admired Lloyd George more than I do at this moment when, in face of most bitter public opposition, he has had the courage to give office to Churchill. I admire him for it.
"The new appointments are certainly of asensational nature. Carson leaves the Admiralty and enters the War Cabinet as Minister of Reconstruction (whatever that may mean!). Montagu becomes Secretary of State for India in Austen Chamberlain's place. Then the most startling thing of all—the wonderful Sir Eric Geddes becomes First Lord of the Admiralty! That is very significant indeed. The appointment of that extraordinary production of the war to the Admiralty at this particular moment is not, I think, unconnected with the forthcoming operations. I leave you to surmise what I mean. Churchill has now once more set foot upon the ladder, despite popular prejudice. Watch him now. He will not rest until he has mounted to the top. It is really delightful. How angry everybody will be! Do, please, pull their legs about it for me! But watch also Sir Eric Geddes. He is one of the most remarkable men of our time—general, admiral, statesman!
"I am rather amused at the change in the Royal Name: our Royal Family is now to be known as the Royal House of Windsor! It does strike me as pandering somewhat to popular prejudice. That King George should change his name to Windsor cannot change the fact of his ancestry; he is still a member of the Royal House of Coburg, to which King Albert of Belgium and King Manoel of Portugal belong: no legal document can alter the facts of heredity! not that I think any the worse of him because he is a Coburg. However, the Royal House of Windsor will be peculiarly the British Royal Family and will probably marry amongst the British nobility. To that I have no objection whatever, as I have said before.
"No, I have not seen the King or the Queen out here; but I knew that the Queen was inspecting the hospitals in the town where we get off the train for this part of the front.
"Talking of hospitals—the Padre says that Barker is not expected to live many hours longer. The other three are pulling through. We have got another officer gas casualty to-day. Kerr, who has been suffering from the effects of gas ever since July 12, has reported sick to-day and has gone to hospital for a fortnight. One by one we diminish! I feel quite all right.
"I was talking to Sergeant Brogden—the new gas N.C.O.—last night. He comes from Middleton Junction. He says that he was in the Church Lads Brigade at St. Gabriel's.
"I have been reading the leading article about popular scapegoats in theChurch Times, and I agree with it. I think the young Duke of Argyll's attack on Archbishop Davidson in theSunday Heraldwas conspicuous rather for venom than for good taste.
"Earl Curzon's speech in the Lords onMesopotamia I thought very sober and statesmanlike indeed. I read it in theTimes."
The next day (July 20) I wrote home as follows:
"We actually had no working parties to take last night. How considerate of the Brigade-Major! So we had a good night's sleep. And we have not done anything particular to-day. We are going to have a change at last. After twenty days in the line we are going out to-night, and are going to have a few days in a rest camp some distance behind. The place to which we are going on this occasion is nothing like as far back as we were last month; but I can assure you it is a perfectlysafedistance. So you need not worry. I can tell you it has beensometwenty days! I have never experienced such a twenty days before; and I am glad to be looking back upon them, writing during the last few hours, rather than at the beginning. We are all glad to be going out again. General Stockwell has ordered that we have three days' complete rest; and Sir Hubert Gough has issued an order that on no account are the men in his Army to be worked more than four hours per day, inclusive of marching to and from parade ground, while out of the line. So the prospect is bright. It is now 4.10, and we are going to have tea. Our bombardment is still making a great row."
My diary of the same date (July 20) states:
"At 4.30 p.m. Captain Briggs, Dickinson, Allen, Sergeant Donovan and I walked via Wells Cross Roads, La Brique (where our guns were very close together, their sound almost deafening us as we passed them), to Liverpool Trench. Here we reconnoitred our starting points for the forthcoming push. Then Allen and I went on with Sergeant Donovan up Threadneedle Street to Bilge Trench. We watched, through glasses, the German line going up in smoke. In present-day warfare I certainly think that artillery is the most formidable arm of the Service; it is artillery which is the chief factor deciding success or failure in all the great battles in the West. It is even now preparing the way for us. After having had a look round from over the parapet in Bilge Trench we returned the same way we had come; and we actually got safely back to the Ramparts without having any adventures whatever!"
When we got back to the Ramparts our tour in the line was at an end. All we had to do now was await the arrival of relief. And a very pleasant sensation, indeed, that is to weary soldiers! The sensation of "relief" is the happiest of all the various sensations one had "out there." There were just a few hours of irritating expectancy to live through—followed sometimes, as at Givenchy in 1918, by some boring experience such as a"stand to" in some particular, and generally uninviting, positions—and then one would be free, safe and in a position and condition to enjoy a delightful sleep: free and safe for a few days, until the all too soon moment for return should come!
My diary of July 20 goes on to state how our relief was effected: "We were relieved by a company of the 1/5th South Lancashires of General Lewis' 166 Brigade at 8.45 p.m. So I set off with my platoon at 9 p.m.... We went round Salvation Corner and across various tracks—a very roundabout way; but Sergeant Baldwin, Sergeant Dawson and I between us managed to find our way to Vlamertinghe somehow. Then we went along the road to Brandhoek Cross Roads and thence into our destination, B Camp, on the right."
The letter which I wrote home on July 21 describes the events of the two days in greater detail without naming places. It begins where my letter of the previous day left off, at tea-time: "After tea yesterday I went up to the trenches to reconnoitre our own positions as they will be on 'the day,' and the front over which we shall have to advance. I was accompanied by Allen and others. We got there and back again without anyadventures whatever; but we saw crowds of batteries bombarding the German lines. The noise as we passed them was deafening. And through our glasses we saw the German lines going up in smoke. If the artillery fails to achieve exactly what the General orders the infantry is foredoomed to failure; and, conversely, if the artillery is successful the infantry ought to have things all plain sailing. That was the secret of the victory of Messines last month. Churchill, with his customary intelligence, has aptly summed up the matter in the following words: 'In this war two crude facts leap to the eye. The artillery kills. The infantry is killed. From this arises the obvious conclusion—the artillery at its maximum and infantry at its minimum.'[8]
"We got back at 6.45 and had dinner. At 8.30 we began to be relieved. So, at 9, I got off with my platoon. We had no adventures except that even the three of us—Sergeant Baldwin, Sergeant Dawson and I—had some difficulty in finding our way through the various tracks across the fields! We passed some simply huge field-guns firing into the enemy lines. On one occasion if I had not called out to inquire whether all was safe I would have been blown up with others by one of our own big guns. 'Just a minute,' was the reply; and then a loud report nearlylifted us off our feet as the shell left the muzzle of the gun which was pointing across the path we were taking! They ought to have had a picket out to warn passers-by as is done in the case of most big guns when firing.
"We eventually got to our destination, a certain camp. We stayed the night there. We tried to get some sleep on the floor in a large elephant dug-out, but found it utterly impossible: the sound of the guns all round was too terrific. This bombardment is as yet only in its early stages. I was only a few hundred yards away from where I was last night on that night previous to the night of the Battle of Messines when the preliminary bombardment for that battle was at its height; yet I may say that the present one sounded last night just like that one sounded then. So what will it become as the days roll on?
"We had breakfast at 4 this morning and marched off from this camp at 6.40. We marched about nine miles to a village which was really only about six miles away! I can tell you I was, and we all were, very tired indeed when we got here. It was about midday when we arrived. We are still well in sound of the guns, but just nicely out of range of them. Nevertheless, air scraps have been going on overhead most of the day. We are under canvas—the whole battalion in a large field enclosed by hedges. The weatheris splendid; fine camping weather. We had lunch about 2 p.m. Then I played a game something like tennis (badminton). The Colonel is very keen on it. When he saw that I was going to play he said, 'Oh, I'll back the "General,"' meaning me! Then he showed me how to play. He has been most agreeable with me all day. Major Brighten has started calling me 'The Field-Marshal!' I think I cause these gentlemen considerable amusement!
"Sir Douglas Haig is in this village to-day; but as I have not been out of camp since I got here I have not seen anything of him."
FOOTNOTE:[8]Churchill,London Magazine, Dec., 1916.
[8]Churchill,London Magazine, Dec., 1916.
[8]Churchill,London Magazine, Dec., 1916.
The time we spent at Valley Camp, Watou, is duly chronicled in my diary.
"July 21st.
"We got here at 12. Lunch at 2.... My servant Johnson reported sick with gas and departed for hospital; so I asked Sergeant Baldwin to suggest another. He took me to M'Connon. I endorsed the selection. Allen's servant, Parkinson, has also gone to hospital with gas to-day! To bed 10 p.m."
"July 22nd (Sunday).
"Breakfast in bed. Up 9.30. The Colonel had a conference of all officers re training and man-power. Then there was a Church parade in the field at 12.15 p.m. The main points of the padre's sermon were Repentance, Hope, Intention. In the afternoon Dickinson and I went over my platoon roll with the Sergeant-Major (Preston) to see how we stand. He also did the same with the other platoons. After tea I had a walk into the village of Watou and purchased some chocolates. Then dinner. The padre tells me that Archbishop Lang is in Poperinghe to-day.
"Critchley came back from hospital this evening; so he will resume his duties as my servant to-morrow.
"Corporal Flint has died, in hospital, of gas."
"July 23rd.
"Breakfast in bed. Up 7.30. Parade 8. Training during the morning. There were also lectures by company commanders on the forthcoming operations, and a lecture on the compass by Major Brighten. In the afternoon General Stockwell spoke about the forthcoming operations to all officers and N.C.O.'s. His speech was very interesting.... He is to have his Headquarters in Wieltje Dug-out. He said that casualties of this brigade while in Ypres this time had been 26 officers and 470 men. I have been very busy with matters relating to the push all day."
"July 24th.
"Battalion parade 8.30 a.m., followed by lectures on the forthcoming operations and a lecture to officers and N.C.O.'s on field messages by Major Brighten. In the afternoon platoons marched to Poperinghe to bathe at the Divisional Baths in the Square—just by the church, I left Valley Camp with my platoon at 1.45. We marched via St. Janster Biexen to Poperinghe and there bathed. Then I took my N.C.O.'s—Sergeant Baldwin, Corporal Livesey, Lance-CorporalsTopping, Tipping, Heap and Hopkinson, and also Sergeant Dawson, to see a model of the battlefield at the Divisional School. We were ages finding it. We went the wrong way. But we eventually went along the Switch Road and found it. It was 6 p.m. by then. So I gave Baldwin, Topping, Tipping and Heap a pass to have tea in Poperinghe. Dawson and Hopkinson did not want one, so they set off back. I went into Poperinghe and had a drink of citron. I felt very tired. Then I set off back to Watou. I came across Dickinson returning on horseback. Then I caught up Sergeant Dawson and Lance-Corporal Hopkinson; and we got on a lorry which took us right as far as St. Janster Biexen. We then walked back to Valley Camp. I had dinner. Then to bed, feeling a little seedy."
"July 25th.
"Breakfast in bed at 8. Dickinson, feeling very bad, stayed in bed. I also felt washed out. I expect it is the gas at last taking effect. At 10 a.m. I set off with one officer and one N.C.O. from each company to reconnoitre the route to Query Camp. Beesley and I with Sergeant Clews and Sergeant Malone went one way; the others went another way. We found ourselves wrong, but eventually got right. It was raining, the route was thick with mud, and I felt very weary. I soon felt done to the world. Wehad some coffee in a hut on the Poperinghe road, about a mile from the town; then walked on to the Switch Road, right along that and on to the main Poperinghe-Vlamertinghe road. Here Beesley and his sergeant went one way and Sergeant Clews and I went another—right along the main road. We had a drink of citron at a little hut named Villa Franca. Then we turned to the left at Brandhoek Cross Roads, went through B Camp, and eventually reached Query Camp. I felt horribly fatigued and also had a most annoying cold.... Soon Beesley and his sergeant turned up. We had some citron in a cottage here. The Belgian woman who served us said that she had lost her father, mother and three brothers in the war. After this we went along Track 1 and back to the main road. Here we got a motor-lorry which took us through Poperinghe and right back to St. Janster Biexen. We walked back to Valley Camp from there. I really feel done up; and I have a headache in addition to my bad cold—something like influenza. All symptoms of gas! When we got back the rain had ceased and it was quite nice. A new large draft arrived about 6.30; there were two new officers with it—Richard Maxwell Barlow and Kenneth Leslie Smith. Young has also returned to the Battalion. There have been a number of drafts recently, so we are getting up strength again. Young,Barlow and Smith have all been posted to A Company; so, as the B and A Company Mess is joint, they mess with us."
The same day, July 25, I wrote home from Watou as follows:
"Just a line to let you know that I have received all your letters up to July 20 and the parcel for which I thank you very much. I have been simply awfully busy—chiefly with maps and operation orders re coming offensive—and have not been able to write home during the last few days as a result. We are supposed to be resting, but I have hardly a moment to spare. General Stockwell lectured all officers and N.C.O.'s of this Battalion here in the field on Monday afternoon. He said that he was going to tell us everything that he knew himself about the coming battle, but did not tell us anything we did not already know! I do not think he told us all: if he did tell us all then I don't think much of the idea. The General had a cigarette in his mouth and his hands in his pockets the whole time he was speaking; he was quite jovial, cracking jokes all the time. He impressed upon us the importance of sending messages back when we reach our objectives; he said that if we do not do so it will mean his coming up to the front line himself for information 'and I don't want to have to do that,' he laughed, 'but it will come to that if necessary,' he went on in a more serious tone, 'and itwill be woe betide the platoon commander whose negligence has brought his brigadier-general's life into danger!' At the conclusion of his speech the General asked whether any of us had any questions to ask. I could have asked one, but I know he would not have answered it; so I remained silent!
"Archbishop Lang was in the big town half-way between here and the front line on Monday, but I did not see anything of him. Nor did I see the Queen when she was inspecting the hospitals there. But I think it very fine of Queen Mary to visit troops within range of the Germans guns as she did.
" ... It is now evening and is quite bright, the sun is shining into the tent where I am writing this. We have been stationed here since July 21, and are now marching back in a few minutes to a camp beyond the above-mentioned town—where I went to reconnoitre this morning.
"You will see that it is impossible to write any reply to 'Bumjo' at present as I have not the time.[9]I also warn you not to get the wind up if you do not hear from me for a week or so. I can quite foresee a period of that length elapsing between my letters now, as before this present week is out we shall be engaged in fighting the great battle of the North. 'Bumjo' will have to wait until wecome out of action again. I intend to deal with him and give him the telling-off which his impudence and his treason are asking for after the battle. I hope to have more leisure then! So au revoir!"
These days at Watou, while being days full of work, were not unpleasant. We had plenty to talk about; and, seated on the grass on a summer evening, Joe Roake would make us rock with laughter at his quaint and humorous tales of his experiences when a sergeant at Loos and other battles. Roake was always a great asset to any mess when he honoured it by a visit. He hated Headquarters Mess; he was always ready to jump at any excuse to get away from the society of Colonel Best-Dunkley; and he was never happier than when, over a nice selection of drinks, he was retailing the Colonel's latest sayings and doings. And we, needless to say, were never happier than when listening to him on this most interesting topic! Roake and Humfrey with little "Darky," who was their invariable companion, were always welcome.
It was at this time that news came across that a son and heir had been born to Colonel Best-Dunkley. The event was one of considerable interest, and was widely discussed. "Poor little ——! To think that there's another Best-Dunkley in the world to look forward to!" exclaimed our humorous friend when he heard the news. "Well,when he grows up he will always have the gratification of knowing that his father was a colonel in the Great War!" mused Captain Andrews in a tone which suggested that he had a presentiment that Colonel Best-Dunkley would not survive the coming push. And, somehow—though nobody ever anticipated for a moment that he would win the V.C.—we all discussed the probability of his falling, and always thought that the odds were in favour of his falling. And to be perfectly frank (my object in writing this book is to tell the truth), nobody regretted the probability! If we had really known what kind of a man he was, if we had been able then to fathom beneath the forbidding externals, we might have felt very differently about it. But it is not given to man to know the future or even to discern the heart of his most intimate acquaintance! We only saw in him a man who was as unscrupulous as his prototype Napoleon in all matters which affected his own personal ambition, the petty tyrant of the parade ground, who could occasionally be very agreeable, but of whom all were afraid or suspicious, because none knew when his mood would change. In a few days this man was going to give everybody who knew him the surprise of their lives. Had he any presentiment or intention as to the future himself? I think he had both intention and presentiment. Throughout the whole summerof 1917 his whole heart and soul were absorbed in preparation for the coming push; never did a man give his mind more completely, unstintingly, and whole-heartedly to a project than Best-Dunkley did to the Ypres offensive which was to have carried us to the Gravenstafel Ridge, then on to the Paschendaele Ridge, into Roulers and across the plains of Belgium. He was determined to associate his name indelibly with the field of Ypres; he was determined to win the highest possible decoration on July 31: he knew what the risks were; he had seen enough of war to know what a modern push meant; he had not come through Guillemont and Ginchy for nothing and learnt nothing; he was determined to stake life and limbs and everything on the attainment of his ambition. He was determined to cover himself with glory; he was determined to let people see that he did not know what fear was. And I think—there was that in his bearing the nearer the day became which suggested it, everybody who had known him of old declaring that they noticed a certain change in him during the last two months of his life—that he felt that his glory would be purchased at the cost of his life.
I well remember one afternoon in the Ramparts when Captain Andrews came in and told us that it had been proposed that Major Brighten should take the Battalionover the top in the push and the Colonel remain behind on "battle reserve." Captain Andrews said that that would be fine, because if the push were a success—as it was sure to be—Major Brighten[10]would probably get the D.S.O. before the Colonel, which would annoy the Colonel intensely; and he said that he would do anything, risk anything to bring success to our beloved Major Brighten—feelings which we all cordially reciprocated. But Colonel Best-Dunkley would not hear of it. He implored the General to allow him to lead his battalion over the top; he waxed most importunate in his entreaties, almost bursting into tears at the thought of being debarred from going over with the Battalion; and, at last, his request was granted and the General agreed that Best-Dunkley should take the Battalion over.
Another very gallant officer was also very grieved when he was informed that he was detailed to be on "battle reserve" for the push. That officer was Kenneth Blamey. When Captain Blamey was informed that his second-in-command would take the Company over he implored to be allowed to go over the top with his company. But his request was not granted. Bodington was to take D Company over. It would not do for all company commanders to go over the top atonce: the future has to be considered.
One more reminiscence before I close this chapter. It was at Watou that fat Joye used to come into the tent and get me to talk to him about the war. I remember him coming in to see us the last night at Watou and saying to me that we would both have nice "Blighties" in the leg in a few days. I replied that I hoped so. Things turned out exactly as Joye forecast: about ten days later I met him on the grand staircase in Worsley Hall!