CHAPTER VI

The firing platform is a ledge of earth from one to two feet high, on which a man must stand in order to see or fire over a parapet. It follows from this that until he gets up on the platform he can, in a good trench, walk about freely, without exposing his head to the enemy. Here, of course, the trench was a German one, and in consequence the parapet and platform were on the north side of the trench, whereas we wanted them on the south side. The first thing to do in capturing a trench from the enemy is to seize the sandbags of the parapet and to drag them across to the other side and then make a new platform below them.

[3] A barrage is a concentration of shell fire on a particular point or frontage so as to make it impassable to the enemy. It is also called "curtain fire" by the French. It can be used to prevent an attack on one's own front line, or check reinforcements coming to the enemy first line from the second or third lines.

[4] The Farm was not named after the poet, but because of the number of shells it received.

Counter-attacks—Obstacles to victory—The ground described—The enemy deceived—Ravage wrought by heavy guns—Impassable ground—Schemes based upon unreliable information—Forward movement ordered—The 28th severely shelled at Voormezeele—Confusion regarding the occupation of the craters—Raid on Craters 2 and 3 fails—Wrong craters attacked—The Canadian infantry in Craters 6 and 7—Enemy patrols walk straight into Canadian trenches and are taken prisoners—The actual situation revealed by aerial photographs—Unit follows unit to certain death—The brave 28th—Heavy casualties—Determination of the Higher Command—Sniper Zacharias—A gallant deserter—Imperative order to take the German positions—Crater No. 1 captured—Unfortunate lack of reliable information—Four Privates hold an exposed position for 70 hours—Individual acts of bravery common—Good work of the Lewis gun team—"Get on at any cost"—Brave though fruitless attempts—A glorious failure—Repeated counter-attacks unsuccessful—The third phase of the Battle of St. Eloi—A parallel of Verdun—The enemy seizes a dominant position—A deadlock—General Turner's suggestions—Reconstruction of the old British line under General Watson—The inglorious drudgery of digging—Perilous position of Canadians in advanced positions—Carrier pigeons used as messengers for the first time—Value of position problematical—Superior trenches of the enemy—Useful work of aircraft—Historic ground—First and second great actions of Dominion Army contrasted—Failure and success enter into the education of a nation.

April 6th, 1916.

With the morning of April 6th began that series of counter-attacks against the Germans which continued at intervals during the remainder of the action.

Here, in estimating the causes of success or failure, three factors are of primary importance: the general lie of the land and the consequent disposition of our troops on it; the concentrated fire of the enemy's heavy artillery; and the state of the weather and the subsoil. None of these factors was in our favour, and though taken singly their hostility need not have proved fatal, taken in conjunction they formed as grave an obstacle to victory as any general has encountered.

The knoll of St. Elbi is in itself of no great magnitude. From the plateau which it crowns the ground drops suddenly to the south and the German second line trenches. But though it possesses this local advantage it is in its turn dominated both by the rise at Eikhof Farm some 1,000 yards to the east and by gun positions well back in the German line. This drawback was aggravated by the fact that, like most positions, such as Hooge or Hill 60, in the Ypres salient, it could be subjected to a converging fire from the front and either flank. The German observers could thus look north past the knoll, and watching any signs of the movements of our troops far behind the line, turn on them a rain of shells from at least three points of the compass. The Canadian Higher Command was compelled in consequence to order the dispositions of the troops accordingly. The divisional frontage was taken by only one brigade with two battalions in the advance positions. The centre and support battalion had to find cover farther back, while the reserve battalion was right back near Dickebusch nearly three miles away. Such a dispersion cannot but be disadvantageous. But the configuration of the ground would have been of less importance had there been no great concentration of German guns to face. Such a collection of heavy pieces takes days to assemble or disperse, and is not therefore to be looked for on the side of the defence. The enemy,ex hypothesi, should have been taken by surprise when the craters were blown up and the 3rd British Division attacked, and plenty of time given to the assailants to consolidate the new position before a great concentration of guns could be brought to bear on them. But this did not happen, by a simple piece of bad luck, as has been related in Chapter IV. In February the British Division holding the Bluff to the north of St. Eloi, just east of the Canal, and included in the subsequent Canadian position, had some trenches there snatched from them. They took the matter calmly; got up the heavy batteries, including even the monstrous 15-inch guns, blew the Bluff practically to pieces, and took back the lost ground on March 2nd. This performance caused keen irritation to the Germans, who looked round for the best spot on which to retaliate, and selected St. Eloi. The troops then who carried the new line, and the Canadians, who had to hold it, found a ready-prepared artillery concentration against them from the moment they started. The whole area was laid waste, and the old British line in the centre, and many of the support and communication trenches behind it, were rendered untenable.

Map--St. Eloi areaMap—St. Eloi area

Depth then, not length, is the distinguishing feature of the section occupied by the 2nd Canadian Division. And here the third factor comes into play, the state of the soil. In war, distance, time, and energy are interchangeable terms. The interval between a line and its supports is not to be measured by the number of yards between them, but by the time it will take to traverse and by the amount of fatigue involved in the process. Undisturbed earth under rain forms mud, but in a country which is not marshy it can be crossed somehow. But earth disintegrated by high explosive and drowned in water becomes pulp. One can wade through water, or struggle over mud, but this stuff was neither. As men splashed from shell-hole to shell-hole—and the surface of the earth consisted of nothing else—they sank up to the armpits and could find no grip for their feet. One of the strongest men in the 2nd Division has declared that after sixty yards of this work he was incapable of going further.

To make new—or, worse still, to repair old—trenches out of this material was impossible. Add darkness for a night attack, and the picture is complete. Even by daylight, parties reported in the utmost good faith that they had reached such and such a point on the map, when, as a matter of fact, they had done nothing of the kind, for all the old landmarks had vanished. Yet it was on this information that schemes of attack had to be based.

Morning, April 6th, 1916.

On the morning of the 6th, as soon as the enemy attack was known of at Headquarters, a forward movement of the supports and reserves of the 6th Brigade began. Two companies of the 29th were already up with the 27th in the original British trenches and the new Canadian line beyond, and a bombing party followed them into the former position. The 28th occupied Voormezeele in the support centre line, where they were subjected to as severe a shelling as any experienced in the forward trenches. Two battalions, 18th (Western Ontario), commanded by Lieut.-Col. Wigle, and 21st (Eastern Ontario), under Lieut.-Col. Hughes, of the 4th Brigade, took their places at Dickebusch in reserve. Two counter-attacks were then organised. The attacks were to be simultaneous and converging. From the right of the line the bombers of the 27th and the 29th were to head an assault against Craters 2 and 3, which lay to the south-east of the original line. From the left-centre of the line, the bombers of the 28th and 31st Battalions were to re-occupy Craters 4 and 5, should these have been abandoned, moving in a south-westerly direction. The men of these two regiments had to come up from well behind St. Eloi on to ground with which they were utterly unfamiliar, and from which all landmarks had been blotted out. As they advanced through the half-ruined communications in the full light of day, the German observers caught a glimpse of them and a tremendous barrage of fire was turned on them. Dashing through this, they saw in front of them the outlines of two craters and immediately assumed that their objective was before them. No one knew at the time which craters on our left were in German hands, and as has been noted before, the 31st under Major Doughty, when they evacuated their forward position at the time of attack, were firmly convinced that they had seized Craters 4 and 5, whereas they had actually occupied Craters 6 and 7, and from these repulsed the assault.

It was into these two craters that the bombers of the two battalions broke, and found one still occupied by a party of the 31st, and the other abandoned under a rain of shells. They reported accordingly, and the original error was again confirmed in the minds of the Brigade. In the meantime, the raid on Craters 2 and 3 had come to grief. It was delivered across the open, where the only cover was shell-holes, in face of a sweeping machine-gun fire from the German redoubts in the craters, backed by their gunners behind their lines. To advance in the face of this hail of death was impossible, and finally the attempt was abandoned.

An attack organised for 1.30 a.m. on April 6th was postponed while our artillery bombarded the craters. All through the day the German barrage hardly lifted, but it was decided to make a new push against Craters 4 and 5, then supposed to be Craters 2 and 3, as soon as the dark descended. But at dusk the Germans themselves took the initiative for a moment.6 P.M., April 6th, 1916.When the 31st had repulsed the attack at dawn on the 6th, they imagined that the surviving Germans had made a final retirement. This proved not to be the case; some 50 or 60 of them had flung themselves flat down in the shell-holes in front of Craters 6 and 7 and the trenches on our left, and had remained crouching there all day. As evening fell, they leapt up suddenly and charged the 31st. A withering rifle fire swept the enemy's groups, which faded out of existence. Some fell and some fled, but a few dropped back again into their shell-holes, and remained there during the night. The strain appears to have been too much for the nerves of the survivors. Driven mad by their position and the fire of our artillery, they leapt up again at dawn on the 7th, and with their rifles slung danced "like Red Indians," as an eye-witness observed, in front of the Canadian lines.

On the evening of the 6th, the 28th were coming up in successive parties to the support of the right of that hard-tried Battalion, and had effected a junction with Major Daly (31st) behind our own craters. Their instructions were to pick up bombers of the 31st and to assault and capture Craters 2 and 3. They actually advanced against Craters 4 and 5. The bombing attack was led by Lieut. V. P. Murphy (25th), who succeeded in establishing himself nearer the hostile craters than any previous advance had done. He was supported by Capt Styles (28th), who exposed himself with the greatest gallantry in the continuous attempt to keep touch with the various scattered units of the 28th and the 31st. But the mud was almost impassable, the darkness intense, the position of the enemy uncertain, and the ground a mere mass of holes.

Dawn, April 7th, 1916.

Dawn found the Canadian infantry still entrenched in Craters 6 and 7, but with no visible progress towards the enemy positions. The attacking parties had lost their way or been overwhelmed by sheer exhaustion. This is the more remarkable, because it is clear that the Germans were throughout the night in position in Craters 4 and 5.

Night, April 6th-7th, 1916.

It thus appears that throughout the night of April 6th-7th, the enemies can only have been separated by the distance of less than forty yards, between Craters 6 and 5. In fact, a few German patrols, as much confused as their opponents, walked straight into the Canadian craters in the dark and were taken prisoners! And yet neither side succeeded in coming to grips with the other. It was as though an impenetrable curtain had fallen between the contending parties of infantry. The mud, the darkness, and the shells made every movement a failure. That such a state of affairs could be possible can only be understood by the insight of imagination or by an actual experience of the ground and the conditions. But a study of the photographs taken by aeroplanes makes it at least intelligible. Among the infinite traceries of lines, trenches new and old, which wrinkle the surface of the chart, the rims of the four great centre craters stand out ominous and distinct. We actually see down into the hollows held by the lurking Germans as one gazes through the sunlit depths of a rock-bound pool to where the tiny monsters of the deep dart in and out of their caves and recesses upon the clear floor of the sea. Away to the right lies Crater 1, a perfect circle of light and shade with its foliated edges like the milling on the rim of a coin. Across a flattish, almost unmarked surface, the Canadian and the British communication trenches drive north and south of it from the strong serrated line of our own trenches, until they strike the intricate tangle of the old German front line. But turn your eyes to the centre and to the ground which lies directly between St. Eloi and the craters. The old outstanding British position on the right crumbles away into a vague tangle of flattened outlines. Behind it the whole surface of the ground is pockmarked with the white dots which indicate shell-holes, and in front of it there is no solid earth at all, but a bewildering labyrinth of minor craters spreading out till they touch the four huge eruptions.

St. Eloi CratersSt. Eloi Craters

On the left the space is a trifle more open. Craters 6 and 7 held by us can be distinguished as mere holes separated by some forty or fifty yards from the giant rim of Crater 5. From high up it looks so clear, but to the men struggling in the dark over that quagmire, sweating to dig themselves in by daylight under the pitiless hail of death, it appeared confusion worse confounded. Looking down from a great altitude on the passionless picture in high relief it is hard to imagine that here men battled in the mud till they could do so no more, and tasted the bitterness of failure as they fought and died for their country. The photographic record seems cold compared with the ideals and efforts the result of which it enshrines. One turns from it as one might turn from the privacy of the human soul outraged by Omniscience. All this chaos was to the advantage of the Germans once they had seized the dominant position.

From the rear came continued orders to take the enemy's entrenchments at any cost, and a constant trickle of reinforcements was sent struggling up the communication trenches or dashing across the open in groups the moment the barrage lifted. But in the conditions existing at the front, all these groups seemed to melt away. Units went up and were heard of no more at Headquarters. The bare official reports are tragic. One can select any one at random; for instance, this from Lieut.-Col. Embury, of the 28th:—"I told Capt. A. G. Styles (28th) he was to come around north of the craters. He started off at 11.30 and left part of his men with Major Daly. It was dark and raining hard and we had never seen the ground before. The craters looked just like the ordinary ground. Styles went up and found Lieut. V. P. Murphy (25th) at 4 o'clock a.m., but had no time to fix up for the attack. The men were all in; they had only had three hours' sleep in forty-eight."Night, April 6th-7th, 1916.But it is impossible for the contemporary writer in the space at his disposal to give a clear and detailed picture of the movements of all these units or of the valour displayed by individuals. The fog of war lies heavy on the scene of confusion and heroic effort, and if (which is very unlikely) it is to be lifted at all, it must be by the hand of the future historian. The troops did their best, but the odds both of man and Nature were against them. The 28th Battalion throughout the fighting set a notable example of gallantry and endurance.

That night of April 6th-7th the Germans effected their relief.

They had, by all accounts of prisoners, suffered very severely from the fire of our artillery—but they had held on, retiring by a perverse stroke of irony to our own second line trench dug south of the crater when the bombardment became intolerable. It cannot be questioned that if we had been fully aware of the relative positions of the two forces the British artillery could have blown their opponents bodily out of the craters.

That night, too, the 4th Brigade began to come up to the relief. The 6th Brigade had done its best; it had been fighting continuously for three days and nights; its supply of rations had been intermittent; many of its officers and men had had no sleep for days, and the exhaustion bred of shell-fire and mud was upon it. Its casualties were in all 617 officers and men. The 27th had borne the brunt of the first German onrush and suffered proportionately. Eight of its officers and 209 of its rank and file had been killed or wounded. The 31st, which held its line for the longest period in the Brigade, came next with a roll of 180 casualties. The 29th lost 117, and the 28th, 101. The Brigade had failed, but it had failed gloriously!

April 7th-8th, 1916.

The relief could only be accomplished by degrees. To move large bodies of men up simultaneously was impracticable, and the fighting was therefore continued by mixed battalions of the two brigades. The 4th Brigade, under General Rennie, consisted of the 18th (Western Ontario), commanded by Lieut.-Col. Wigle; 19th (Ontario), under Lieut.-Col. J. T. Maclaren; 20th (Northern and Central Ontario), under Lieut.-Col. C. H. Rogers, and the 21st (Eastern Ontario), under Lieut.-Col. Hughes. In effect, the relief, which lasted over four nights, put the 21st instead of the 27th on the right in the trenches, the 18th replacing the 28th in the centre support position; while the 19th took the place of the 31st on our left and in the Canadian craters. But the Higher Command of the 2nd Division, which exhibited throughout great determination, was not content to await the full relief before it launched a new attack on the enemy.Night, April 8th-9th, 1916.On the night of the 8th-9th fresh assault was launched against Craters 2 and 3.

ATTACK ON THE GERMANS NIGHT OF 8TH TO 9TH APRIL 1916ATTACK ON THE GERMANS NIGHT OF 8TH TO 9TH APRIL 1916

The object of this attack was to effect a lodgment on the north-west side of Crater 2 and on the north side of Crater 3—that is to say, to secure a position where the St. Eloi-Wytschaete road passes through the craters and bends to the right. The assault on the right was led by Capt. Miller, of the 21st, who was wounded during the engagement. He and a small bombing party succeeded in getting to the edge of Crater 2 under a heavy fire, and in the blackness of the night crept up unobserved. Here Pte. Comego had his right arm shattered. In spite of his excruciating agony he managed to control himself when a single sound would have given away the presence of the whole party. They had expected to find only about twenty of the enemy, but, discovering a far stronger force, beat a retreat to secure reinforcements. Fifty more men of the 21st went up with Lieut. Brownlee, who distinguished himself by conspicuous gallantry, to make a renewed attempt. By this time, however, the alarm had been given, and such a tornado of fire was turned on "No Man's Land" that the attack stuck fast.3.30 A.M., April 9th, 1916.At 3.30 in the morning the exhausted survivors succeeded in struggling back to the trench. In the course of the advance and of vigorous exchange of bombs with the Germans, they had lost three-fourths of their number.

Great bravery was displayed by many men of the 21st. Sniper Zacharias used his rifle in the assault until it was blown out of his hands; he then became a grenadier and hurled bombs at the Germans until his party retired. Two lance-corporals, Currie and Henderson, made heroic efforts to drag the wounded back into the trench under heavy and continuous fire. As a result practically all the wounded of the 21st were evacuated by the stretcher-bearers.

The attack on Crater 3 by the 18th met with no better success. Lieut. Kerr, who had reconnoitred the ground on the previous evening, led the party on, but the heavy barrage of the enemy checked the progress, and finally they had to content themselves with re-occupying the old British line and putting an outpost position in advance of it, fifty yards in front of the German crater.

The 18th (Western Ontario) fought throughout with great courage. Lieut. Kerr was wounded, and Lieut. Baxter had been untiring in the most dangerous form of reconnaissance, working on unknown ground; Lieut. Elliott, the signal officer, went out over and over again into the open to establish and keep connection between the front position and battle headquarters, and was well backed by his men. But, as in the case of the 21st, in this attack the great difficulty was to bring in the wounded. Capt. McKeough, Company Sergt.-Major Richardson, Sergt. Cunningham, Sergt. Bowie, and Lance-Cpl. Evans dashed out time after time to bring the casualties in. Private Tom Jones, said to have been in turn a deserter from the British Army, the British Navy, and the American Army, though quite a young boy, lost his life at this stage of the action. He had been helping to carry Lieut. Clarke (18th), who was wounded, into safety, and on returning to guide an officer up, was shot clean through the head, to the grief of his regiment. The attack had suffered heavily, losing 100 men in killed and wounded. In the meantime, the 19th Battalion was engaged in relieving the 31st in the Canadian craters on the night of the 8th and 9th. Lieut. Hooper (19th Batt.), the grenade officer of the battalion, had undertaken the risky work of reconnoitring the position in advance, and Majors Moors and Morrison (19th Batt.) held this very awkward bit of the line in succession. The 19th, in fact, like the 31st, could give very little active assistance to the assaults, for their position in Craters 6 and 7 was dominated by the German Crater 5, and was exposed to heavy shelling. The main object was to hold their own, and this, it may be said, they succeeded in doing. Orders, however, to retake the German positions were peremptory, and, as each wave of assault recoiled under the fire of the enemy, and because of the impossible state of the ground underfoot, a new one was promptly organised for the succeeding night.

Night, April 9th-10th, 1916.

The attack on the night of the 9th was of a extensive character, and achieved at least some measure of success. The 20th were brought up from brigade reserve and thrown into a line between the right of the 18th and the left of the 21st, and pushed into action. The main idea of the Higher Command was a very sound one, if due allowance be made for the extent of their knowledge. The German craters, then supposed to consist only of Craters 2 and 3, were to be attacked simultaneously on three sides.

The 21st were to attack Crater 2 from their own front and through Crater 1, taking their left in reverse, and reoccupy the positions at Sackville Centre and Fredericton Fort which had been held by Capts. Gwynn and Meredith during the morning of April 6th. The 20th, to their left, were to attack Crater 2 from the north-west. The 18th, further to the left of the line, were to attack Craters 2 and 3 from the north. The 19th, continuing the line again to the left, were to close in and assault the Germans on their right flank, and so practically enclose them. The first plan shows the position as it actually was; the second as it was according to the information of the Higher Command.

Maps--Action on the night of April 9th to 10th 1916.Maps—Action on the night of April 9th to 10th 1916.

But here again all assaults from the north broke down utterly. The men simply could not get on, and came staggering back into the line at dawn with heavy casualties and in a state bordering on collapse. On the right, however, a glint of success visited our standards. It had been discovered on the previous night that Crater 1 was not in the hands of the enemy. Lieut. Davidson (21st)—taking the place of Capt. Miller who had been wounded in the assault of the 8th—and Lieut. Brownlee once more led a strong party of bombers from our trenches up into Crater 1. Seizing this, they charged into the old German line about Fredericton Fort, where it had been held during the German main attack by Capt. Meredith and Capt Gwynn. They took back this lost ground and advanced north along the trench to capture Crater 2 from behind. This they failed to do, but they established themselves close to its south-west rim. The ground won was retained and consolidated, and the 2nd Division once more held much the same position as it did on the morning of April 6th.

Col. Wigle, of the 18th Battalion, had been in charge of both these successive night attacks, and his account of the failure of his own Battalion and of the 20th to get on in this last attempt throws up in high relief the difficulties confronting the commanders in all these operations. "They had no proper information as to the ground in front of them. They could not find a guide to locate Crater 3 at night—a heavy bombardment retarded progress, and Lieut. Clarke reported that his party could not get through. The Brigade said the attack must proceed. The result of the operation brought no change from the position of the previous night."

The 19th Battalion continued during this assault to maintain the positions in the Canadian craters it had taken over from the 31st Battalion on April 8th, and continued to do so until its relief on the 12th, Lieuts. Thomson and Macdonald commanding the garrison of Crater 7, and Lieuts. Pepler and Cassells of Crater 6. An advanced machine-gun emplacement in a very exposed position was held by Privates D. C. Ballantine, A. W. Sharpe, and W. Hull, for 70 hours without repose or relief. There were many other notable examples of gallantry in the regiment. Cpl. A. F. Lynch went out and dragged in a machine-gun, the entire crew of which had been killed. Private Hagan carried Private Hoffman, who had been wounded in both legs, to a place of safety 500 yards away through a heavy artillery barrage. Lance-Cpl. Bishop and Private Schwann, D.C.M., carried food and water out from the front trench to the garrisons of the craters, who had been cut off from all supplies for 48 hours. This act was done in broad daylight, when to move was almost certain death. The 19th did well.

Nor were the 20th, though less continuously engaged, far behind them in their record of individual heroism. Lieut. C. A. Thomson helped to dress the wounded men of his own and other companies under heavy fire during the night attack of April 9th-10th, though he himself was hit through the leg by a rifle bullet. He remained with his men till dawn and then dragged himself back for first aid—a journey which took four hours. Private Cooke, too, a stretcher-bearer, went on binding up the wounded long after he was hit, and Private B. Asquith carried a comrade to safety single-handed under a heavy fire.

The Lewis gun team of the 20th, under Sergt. Simpson, also exhibited marked courage and endurance. They were under fire continuously from April 5th to 12th, held Crater 6 against an encircling attack of German bombers, repulsed the attack, and took three prisoners.

Wave upon wave of men had been thrust forward in succession to retake the lost positions, yet as each party came up it seemed to melt away in the noise, squalor, and confusion of the front line. The telephones from behind were perpetually jangling with the urgent messages from the Brigade, "You must get on at any cost," and when the wires were cut in spite of the heroic efforts of the regimental signallers to make them good, runner after runner risked his life in a dash across the shell-swept area with the same pressing orders. Urged on by their commanders and their own indomitable spirit, the regiments renewed the attack again and again. But they could not get on. In the daylight the air was full of flying steel, and the bright light showed the assailants to their enemies so plainly that the lines of the attackers withered away under that devastating hail. By night the impenetrable darkness and the chaos of earth and water enveloped each succeeding party before they could get to grips with the enemy, in the dark hours small parties were wandering round trying to find their location in vain. The survivors returned almost fainting with exhaustion to the nearest detachment they could find. Some were left behind as day broke, in the precarious shelter of small holes. Private Warn, of the 29th Battalion, lived for nine days in such a position subsisting on the rations and water-bottles taken from the bodies of men of the 3rd British Division killed in the fighting of the last days of March. Marvellous to relate, he rejoined his unit in safety after his long sojourn with the dead.

The company officers had throughout behaved with unflinching gallantry and vigour, nor had their men failed in any way to second their continued efforts. Man had done his best, but he had been defeated by Nature.

With this assault, then, ended the second phase of the Battle of St. Eloi. The first period had witnessed the success of the German raid on the craters, the second the repeated failure of the counter-attacks; we now enter on the third phase, the consolidation of the line which remained in our hands.

Night, April 11th-12th, 1916.

On the night of the 11th began the relief of the 4th Brigade by the 5th; their casualties had been 14 officers and 389 men.[1]

The whole action must be regarded as a counter-battle fought under the worst possible circumstances. The original advance of the 3rd British Division over the shattered mine craters had met with strong resistance and an unexpected concentration of artillery fire, parallel to that of Verdun. It is probable that the enemy were already planning an attack of their own. They were, however, taken by surprise and lost the first trick in the game. Their reply was instant and effective. Smashing down the ruined trenches in front of them before they could be made good by the defenders under a deluge of high explosive they found a hole in the line and seized the dominant position. After this coup, the weather and the guns combined to make movement on either side almost impossible in a front battered out of all recognition. Had the Germans known it, there were no front-line trenches worthy of the name opposed to them at St. Eloi itself for days, and even the second-line positions had been battered to bits. But, in fact, they could no more advance than we could. The barrage of our artillery prevented, for them too, any heavy concentration behind the craters, and they hung on desperately, as we did, to the ground in their possession. From the beginning General Turner had formed a clear view of the situation on which he based his operations. From the infantry point of view the weakness of the position was the extreme narrowness of the front, which enabled the enemy's guns to concentrate on a line the length of which was only from 600 to 1,000 yards. This made successful movement impossible under fire, for there was no cover for the massing of men preparatory to the assault, and the small parties available were cut down in a narrow area by the full weight of the massed guns. On the other hand, the weakness from the point of view of the British and Canadian gunners was the nearness of our lines to those of the enemy and the uncertainty of all precise locations. This latter factor was terribly aggravated by the mistake about Craters 4 and 5. Two alternatives then offered themselves. The first was to make a renewed assault on a far wider front from Ruined Farm or beyond, on the left, to Piccadilly Farm on the right, and so scatter the enemy's shell fire. The second was to get well back from the craters and destroy their garrison by a concentrated hail fire from the heavy guns. It was not practicable to adopt either of these courses, and it was decided to reconstruct the old British line and to hold fast to the two craters in our possession.

The work of reconstruction fell to the lot of the 5th Brigade under General Watson. As has been stated, on the night of April 11th the moves for the relief of the 4th Brigade began and General Watson took over the line in the early morning. The front was for the moment comparatively quiet. The 26th (New Brunswick) relieved the 19th on the left, the 22nd (French Canadians) took over from the 21st on the right, the 24th (Victoria Rifles) relieved the 18th in the Centre Support position, while the 25th (Nova Scotia) remained for the moment in Brigade Reserve. By April 13th the relief was accomplished. The position taken over by General Watson consisted of the tenable trenches and posts in the old British line, the Craters 6 and 7 and the advanced trenches in Crater 1, and Sackville Centre and outposts to the north. The task of consolidating this last position fell to the 24th (Victoria Rifles).Night, April 14th-15th, 1916.Two very daring reconnaissances were made on the night of the 14th-15th by Lieuts. Robertson and Duclos, and by Lieut. Greenshields and Major Ross, who was in charge of this particular part of the line. As a result, the position of the posts in the old German trench leading into Crater 2 were considerably strengthened and the approaches to Crater 1 were heavily wired. From this time on it may be said that the ground recaptured on the night of the 9th-10th by the 21st passed finally and firmly into our hands. Lieut. Vernon, of the Corps Intelligence Staff, came down during the relief from the Corps Commander to clear up the actual state of affairs. His report was of immense value, though it failed to note the crucial error about the craters, and confirmed the Higher Command in the view that the first necessity was to remake a sound front line. Nowhere, as Brig.-General Watson discovered, were we anywhere as near the German positions as previous reports had led us to imagine. So deep was the mud and slush that no patrols could move, and the greatest difficulty was experienced in carrying up materials for the repair of the line. From the trenches on the right to the trenches near Shelley Farm, in the rear of our own craters was a gaping void held precariously by a few isolated posts. The Brigade, however, set to work tenaciously to make defences out of slush. Basing itself on the line held in the extreme left, it succeeded in re-establishing a considerable part of the line in the direction of the trenches on the right. All this was done under heavy fire, and the repairing of smashed-in parapets occupied as much time as the preparation of the renewed line.

Some author will yet arise to sing the epic of digging. It is of all work the most tedious and dangerous; there is no glory in it; and an infinite amount of labour and risk. Yet the whole safety of the line depends on the exertions of the digging parties. A well-kept line spells comfort and security; a badly-kept one is a purgatory to its occupants. Every battalion and brigade looks askance at the efforts of its predecessors, but none the less rough justice is done in the common opinion of the Army. The 6th Brigade, at any rate, strove valiantly; sandbags were placed in position, and the front was at last protected by coils of barbed wire. In the meantime the position of our troops in the advance craters had for some time been the cause of serious anxiety. Held in succession by garrisons of the 31st, the 19th, and the 25th, throughout the battle they had, except at rare intervals, been cut off from communication with the main body. Reliefs were accomplished by the dashes of the parties in the dark; food and water got up by the same method; and an occasional daring runner got through by daylight, and carrier pigeons were for the first time in the war employed as messengers. The orders were to hold on, but the value of the position was most uncertain. The two small craters lay in advance of our trench well under the dominance of German ground and of the rim of Crater 5. They were joined by a shallow communication trench, along which it was only possible to crawl by daylight, and the right-hand crater was in any case absolutely untenable under artillery fire. Forty yards away lay the Germans, ready to pounce down on the garrison at any moment of the day or night. The defences were negligible, and all attempts to improve them permanently a failure. No man stood upright without the risk of a bullet through his brain.

Night, April 14th, 1916.

The Germans, on the other hand, had, beside the crater, a well-built trench made out of one of our own support trenches dug on April 4th. From this they launched on the night of the 14th four successive bombing attacks against the garrison. All were repulsed by bombers under the command of Lieut. Parish, grenade officer of the 25th. From this point onward the action gradually merged into the ordinary forms of trench warfare except for the peculiar violence of the artillery.April 16th, 1916.On the 16th, however, an event of great importance occurred. The gale died out, and the aeroplanes were able to soar aloft once more. The veil which had shrouded our operations was at last lifted, and it was clear that Craters 4 and 5 were in the hands of the Germans and Craters 6 and 7 in those of the Canadians. One final effort was made by the enemy to capture the Canadian craters, but the story of this will be told in the following chapter.

It remains to sum up the action of St. Eloi as a whole.

The 2nd Division was fighting upon historic ground. A few miles to the north lay the battlefield of Ypres, which the 1st Division had made famous in the eyes of the world; near by was Hill 60, from which the 13th British Infantry Brigade had come to the support of the Canadians during the crucial days of April, 1915. At St. Eloi itself, the Princess Patricia's had, a year before, fought a long but unsuccessful action. It is therefore impossible to avoid comparisons between the first and second great actions of the Dominion Army. To do so is to refuse to accept the obvious. The 1st Division lost ground indeed under the gas attack and the steady movement forward of massed Prussian Army Corps. They retreated, but under circumstances which left them with a great and justified reputation. To the 2nd Division was left the more bitter task of fighting for a month under leaden skies above and crumbling mud below, and yet failing to retain their original positions. But they deserved none the less well of Canada. What mortal man could do, they did. The Divisional Command was wise; the Brigadiers thrust their commands forward with unflinching resolution; the Battalion and Company Commanders were both daring, resolute, and prudent; the rank and file shouldered their tasks of exhaustion and danger in a manner well worthy of the best infantry in Europe. It was not given to the 2nd Division to take a part in one of those glittering charges which figure so largely in Press reports and so rarely in actions in the field. Here were no bayonets flashing in the sun, no shouts of a triumphant infantry, but a long struggle against dirt and darkness, the terror of the high explosive, and the sharp spitting of the machine-guns. It is easy to think of war as one triumph reaching to another, and the historians gloss over easily the failure of their national arms. This lesson is, perhaps, not inapposite for a nation already proud in arms but new in history. Wherever in the long confines of the Dominion there comes in the cool of the evening the sense of irreparable loss for a treasured life, let it be remembered that the men who died at St. Eloi died no less nobly than the men who fell at Ypres. The lesson of failure is as much a part of the education of a nation as that of success.

[1] The 4th Brigade was commanded by Brig.-General Rennie, who displayed marked capacity and ability in handling his command. We may expect for this officer a distinguished future in the Canadian Corps.

The enemy's final effort to capture Canadian trenches—The Higher Command decides to hold on—The precise position of affairs—The 5th Brigade in inferno—Loneliness of the watchers—Carrier pigeons killed by shell-shock—Crater No. 6 abandoned—The enemy's lack of imagination—The power of the British Army "to come again"—Troops of the Allies able to act without support—General Watson on the state of the craters—The report of Lieut. Vernon—Linking up the craters with the old British line—Advantageous position of the Huns—Four attempts to take Canadian craters—The Huns driven back—The assault on Craters 6 and 7—Isolated position of the Canadians—Aeroplanes reveal the true position—Army Commanders blameless—The importance of dominant ground—Difficulties of the Higher Command—The enemy begins an intense bombardment—Many casualties—Permission to surrender—Lieutenant Myers fires his last round—Five survivors—Sergeant Hostel's narrative—The failures at St. Eloi—The garrison of the Canadian craters swept out of existence.

In the meantime the position in the craters became increasingly difficult as the days went on. So grave indeed was the situation that the Higher Command was at one time seriously considering the plan of abandoning them completely so as to give the gunners freer play with the German positions and attempt to blow them bodily out. This solution of the problem was ultimately rejected, and the orders were to hold on at any cost. As brigade relieved brigade this was done in succession by the 31st, the 19th, 24th, 25th, and 26th—the last-named regiment being still in Crater 6 on the morning of April 18th.

Before proceeding, however, to the story of the craters it may be as well to remind the reader, even if a few facts must be repeated, of the precise position of affairs.

Night, April 11th-12th, 1916.

On the night of April 11th-12th, the 5th Brigade carried out its relief of the 4th. On the morning of the 13th the position of the various regiments was as follows:—The 22nd held our trenches on the right, the 25th were in the centre, and the 26th on the left and in the craters. The 24th were in reserve. Compared with the storm of battle which had been raging, the times were comparatively quiet, except for the occupants of the advanced post.

The rise to the knoll of St. Eloi is a gradual one, but the slope of the ground now gave the Germans the dominating position, and the very force of the explosion of the mines had confirmed their advantage. Looking out from Craters 6 and 7 at night the dimly-seen outlines of Craters 4 and 5 loomed out on the sky-line overshadowing the minor emplacements, which were in the hands of the Canadians. By day, from a distance of about 25 yards, it was possible for the enemy to see right down into the cups of Craters 6 and 7 over the flattened and crumbling edges, and no man moved there save at the peril of his life. The daylight bombardments were fierce and intensive, for the Germans had the range to a nicety with their trench mortars. The evenings were enlivened by periodical bombing assaults from the higher ground. Under these conditions the digging of a proper defensive position could not be carried out, and in this inferno the successive parties of the 5th Brigade continued for five days. One must picture the garrison looking out in the darkness on a serrated ridge illumined moment to moment by the light of star-shells and wondering at what instant the hostile rush would come. Loneliness is a great feature in war; and loneliness here was carried to its extreme. The communication with the shattered defences of the old front-line trenches in the rear was even by night fitful and uncertain. By day all touch over the intervening ground of 40 yards was hopeless, except now and again for a daring runner who took his life in his hand's and usually lost it.April 15th, 1916.The carrier pigeons were killed by shell-shock;[1] the supply of food, water and ammunition was precarious. Many units of the garrison went without any sleep, except the doze of sheer exhaustion, for three or four nights on end—for to sleep soundly might mean to wake to instant death. The ground underfoot was a morass and the sky above charged with falling shell. So terrific was the bombardment that on one occasion Crater 6 had to be abandoned chiefly owing to the annihilation of its defenders.

Under these adverse circumstances the successive regiments of the 5th Brigade held their ground with the customary tenacity of Canadian infantry. The Germans with all their military virtues suffer from one defect of imagination. They can never believe that small bodies of men, unsupported and beyond the control of the Higher Command, will hold on to untenable positions, or will remain fighting units long after they have been beaten by all the rules of war. This error accounts for the failure to pursue after the battle of Le Cateau, and the disregard of the power of the British Army to "come again," which led to the fatal wheel of von Kluck; it also accounts for the German neglect to push their undoubted advantage at various stages of the first and second battles of Ypres. They could not believe that men would resist so boldly who had nothing in reserve.

On a lesser scale the position in the craters and behind them was the same as in these historic combats. The reconstruction of the front or old British line by the 5th Brigade was only beginning; the second line was not in a satisfactory state; the difficulty of bringing up more troops into the advance positions was almost insuperable. The Germans had a chance, had they known it, of pushing through, but the 5th Brigade held the fort until the opportunity had long passed away.

The great concentration of reserves, the massed attack delivered shoulder to shoulder with unflinching courage in the face of a devastating fire, is familiar to the Teutonic mind, which yet seems unable to realise that the democracy of Great Britain, France and Canada can produce men who can do their military duty without the support of carefully-arranged reserves.

As to the state of the craters and the line it may be better to call independent witnesses.

April 12th, 1916.

General Watson had made a tour of the whole position on the morning of the 12th and reported that the 21st Battalion were quite wrong in thinking that in the attack of the 9th-10th they had got anywhere near Crater 2. They were, in fact, never nearer than 70 yards to it. This statement is confirmed by all the evidence, though no doubt the attackers were, in the dark and confusion, unable to ascertain where they were. The General also reported that the first line, that is, the old British line of trenches, was in a very battered state for defence. He regarded the construction work on Crater 1, described in the last chapter, as excellent, and this must go to the credit of the 4th Brigade and the 21st and 24th Battalions.

April 12th, 1916.

On April 12th Lieut. Vernon, of the Intelligence Department, was sent down by the Corps Commander to investigate the situation. He failed to penetrate the error between Craters 4 and 5 and 6 and 7, like everyone else, but his account of the craters is of great interest in view of what followed.

"CRATER No. 7.—This is in our hands, and is a shallow crater about forty yards across; the rims are flat and not high and do not dominate the enemy's new line as to elevation. This crater has no protection from enemy's fire except on the front side (inside), no trenches or parados exist on the rear (north) side, and this side is not occupied by our troops, as it is constantly exposed to rifle and machine-gun fire.

"The communication trench leading to this crater from the north-east is now being improved (fifty men, engineers, working during night), but as yet affords only limited protection; its route includes old mine craters and shell-holes.

"CRATER No. 6.—This is in our hands, and is approached through Crater No. 7 by a ruined shell-wrecked trench along which one has to crawl on hands and knees, and it is constantly sniped at and constantly under observation by enemy flares.

"The crater itself is deep, about forty yards across, and affords much better protection than No. 7. Its rims are higher, but the Germans so dominate it from their trench in front that our garrison has to keep their heads down; the rims are constantly swept by rifle and machine-gun fire. It is built up with some works on the inside facing the enemy, and garrisoned by an officer, men, and machine-gun."

In the light of these facts it was decided to make various arrangements for the improvement of the defence—particularly for the linking-up of the craters with the old British line by a communication trench. It proved impracticable, however, to carry out the whole of the scheme, though 3,000 men were turned on to the various works.

The Germans were in a comparatively enviable position. The lie of the ground was with them and the protection afforded by their own craters adequate. Their knowledge of the precise state of affairs was also more accurate, and in consequence they were better served by their gunners. They possessed in addition the support trenches dug by the 2nd Division on the nights of April 3rd/4th and 5th/6th. They could use the trenches north of the craters as the basis of their own new front line, and the ones south as retiring points whenever our artillery fire became unbearable. None the less, according to the accounts of prisoners, they suffered severely, and the artillery barrage made it impossible for them to bring up strong supports. This did not prevent them taking the offensive as soon as our own counter-attacks had ceased.

Morning, April 14th, 1916.

On the morning of the 14th, as has been related, they four times attempted to take the Canadian Craters 6 and 7 by bombing assaults, but the 25th Battalion repulsed them every time. Simultaneously an attempt was made to oust the garrison of Crater 1. The enemy to the number of 25 charged boldly across the open in broad daylight. This position had, however, as related in the previous chapter, been considerably strengthened, and Lieut. Parish, the grenade officer of the 25th Battalion, who took over the command on April 13th, had extended the outpost line towards Crater 2, and drove back the assailants without much difficulty, but with considerable loss to them. In fact, our position in Crater 1 can never be said to have been seriously threatened, for the ground gave the Germans no special advantage.

At dawn on the 15th, the bombing assault on the Craters 6 and 7 began again, this time preluded by a hellish bombardment of trench mortars and heavy guns. Communication with the main position was absolutely broken, and runner after runner failed to get through. Man after man was killed, wounded, or driven back in the attempt. The 25th, however, maintained their position until they were relieved by parties of the 24th on the following day, when Lieut. Lamb took over Crater 7 and Capt. Sutherland Crater 6.10.45, Night, April 15th, 1916.At 10.45 p.m. the newcomers had to repulse a strong bombing attack by the enemy. Like others of the very gallant men who held the advance posts, they seem to have been of opinion that their retention served no useful purpose and was in fact impracticable, except at the cost of a continuous drain of human life. They speak of the isolation of the position, of the dominating outlook of the enemy, and of watching that enemy improving his defences without any interference from our guns while they themselves were subjected to an almost continuous fire.April 16th, 1916.All this is no doubt true—but it must be remembered that on this day (the 16th) the aeroplanes for the first time were able to soar into the heavens, and look down on the real position of the earth. Up to this date, then, the Higher Command were informed that we were holding essential positions right in the heart of the enemy's line, and that every shell fired by our guns would be a positive danger to the Canadian garrison. It was only as the weather grew calm that the true facts of the case emerged. In any case, the Higher Command of the 2nd Division had no cause to blame itself. General Turner's information from below had been incorrect; in spite of this lack of knowledge his instinct for a practical situation, innate in all real soldiers, had shown itself on every occasion. But the further we get from the front the more difficult it is to arrive at truth, and the Corps and Army Commanders are hardly to be blamed if they were wrongly informed as to facts when Company and Battalion Commanders in the firing line were, with the utmost sincerity, reporting that they occupied points which, as a matter of fact, were never in their possession. The slope of the ground, as at Hooge and Zillebeke, dominated the position; as soon as the Germans held the mound and rise of St. Eloi their advantage of sight was such that the free movements of troops was impossible. Intelligence could not be obtained, and the co-ordination of the various units became a matter of practical impossibility. On the other side of the ridge the Germans, screened from any accurate artillery observation on their immediate front, were able to move with comparative impunity. The only answer was a counter-attack on a far more extended area.

It is one of the fallacies of people who talk about modern warfare to say that ground is nothing. A good trench, forty or fifty yards' fire zone, and sound wire in front will no doubt protect resolute infantry against a frontal attack. But the whole movement and massing of troops for such an attack, the supply of provisions, ammunition and reliefs, the ordinary workaday business which makes the existence of an army possible, can hardly be carried out in the face of an enemy who can watch every move on the board, while the Higher Command can see practically nothing of what is happening on the other side of the hill. It may be possible for troops to carry on under these conditions, but it is neither usual nor expedient.

Noon, April 17th, 1916.

At noon on April 17th, the 24th Battalion was relieved by the 26th; they had been twenty-four hours in the advance post, the ordinary time for anyone occupying a position of great stress and danger. The frequency of the relief speaks more eloquently than words of the strain to which the various garrisons had been subjected.Night, April 17th, 1916.The 26th were in their turn relieved by the 29th Battalion of the 6th Brigade on the night of April 18th/19th. These latter troops had suffered severely during the original fighting at St. Eloi; but as the other brigades had done their turn in the trenches it was imperative that the 6th Brigade should relieve them.

April 19th, 1916.

The next day the end came suddenly and the defence collapsed. Lieut. Myers, of the 29th Battalion, with forty men was in occupation of the left-hand Crater 6, and Lieut. Biggs, of the same regiment, held Crater 7 on the right. During the morning all was quiet, but shortly after two o'clock the enemy started an intense bombardment, which made the craters practically untenable. Very few men remained alive or unwounded after three hours. The shelling on the right-hand crater was particularly severe, and some of the survivors got along the shallow communication trench into Crater 6. They discovered, however, that their comrades were in no better case than themselves. The men were buried over and over again, and the rifles, in spite of their breech covers, finally refused to work. When all resistance had been annihilated some forty or fifty Germans started to come across. As far as can be ascertained, Lieut. Biggs appears to have given permission to his few remaining and weaponless men to surrender. Lieut. Myers, who exhibited a most indomitable spirit, resisted to the last, firing one round from a discarded rifle and blazing off his own revolver at the advancing enemy. These were the only shots left in the hands of the defence. Finally, although already wounded, he suggested to the remains of his command that they should endeavour to retire across the fire-swept open country rather than fall into German hands. Five men, two of them wounded, made this desperate attempt, "and as the remainder," says Lieut. Myers, "seemed disinclined to take the risk, I gave them my sanction to surrender, as the Germans were then almost across to the crater." Of the five men and the officer, three were wounded before they started, and only one came in untouched; none the less, they succeeded in making good their escape. Of these, one was Private Harding, who had come in from Crater 7, after having his own brother and three other men killed by his side. They were the only survivors of the garrison—the remainder being all killed or taken prisoners. It is, as a matter of fact, very difficult to conceive and quite impossible to describe exactly what the defenders of the craters had been through, and it is wonderful that the men who escaped retained their sanity. Sergt. H. Bostel, of the 29th, has, however, left such a clear and convincing record of his experience that I prefer to use his own words rather than to give it at second-hand.

"I was one of a party of 40 men under Lieut. Myers, 29th Battalion, and went forward to occupy Crater 6 left at about 12 midnight April 18th. We posted our sentries as soon as we got in and relieved a party of the 29th Battalion under Lieut. Ross. During the morning everything was quiet until about 2 p.m. when the enemy light artillery—whizzbangs, and possibly minenwerfers were firing on Crater 6 left, the one which we were in. This continued for about three-quarters of an hour, during which time we had no casualties whatever, There was no shelling for about one-quarter of an hour, and then they opened up with heavy shells, which fell just on the right front of the crater, and afterwards got direct hits on the centre of the crater, and in my section I had two killed and four wounded.3:30 P.M., April 19th, 1916.This was about 3.30 p.m. The heavy shelling continued for about half an hour, but there were no casualties, as my section took what cover there was. During the bombardment, Mr. Myers was badly wounded. He, however, gave orders that immediately the bombardment ceased all men were to 'man' the parapet. The bombardment ceased about 4.30 p.m. We then finished dressing the wounded. Sergt. Slaughter went around detailing men to posts and duties. I remained with my section of nine men.5:15 P.M., April 19th, 1916.It must have been about 5.15 p.m. when they opened up again, as I remember Sergt. Slaughter inquiring for me about 4.55 p.m. 'what time it was, and if the rifles Were clean and ready?' I might have mentioned that during the bombardment, Mr. Myers tried to get a message through by pigeon, but they were killed by this bombardment. The artillery then opened an intense bombardment which was terrific. Our wounded were killed in this bombardment, being blown to pieces, and many men were buried in their dug-outs. It was impossible for the remainder to render assistance, although several attempts were made. It was raining, and water was flowing from the right crater to the left, and it was practically impossible to move, as the ground within the crater was like porridge except in a few places. During this bombardment we had many casualties. I saw personally eight men knocked out by one large shell. We half expected that an attack would follow after this, and got as many rifles posted as possible. It was noticed shortly after this that the Germans opened up rifle fire from the trenches along the crater. At the same time the bombardment was continued. The fire of the German heavies now seemed to be concentrated on our next crater. Some men came across from the right crater into the left crater. Sergt. Platt told me that the order had been passed along saying that we were to close into the left crater, as there appeared to be less shelling in it. The German rifle fire continued, and we expected that at every moment they would come across. I discussed the question with Sergt. Slaughter of sending back a message, to warn our rear lines, but he said it was hopeless for any man to try to get through that fire in time to be of any assistance, and it was thought that it would be impossible to bring reinforcements up to us in any case. Mr. Myers came out of his dug-out with his wounds bandaged up and shouted out 'Come on, boys; we will make a fight for it.' We all came out of our shelters. I had been buried no less than four times and the shells were splashing mud all over the place. We covered our rifles with sandbags, but it was impossible to keep them in working order, owing to the terrible state of the ground. Sergt. Slaughter left me and went to his own platoon. I calculate that we had fifteen to twenty men left. By this time there were fifty or sixty Germans coming across. I should say there were three rifles actually capable of firing, and these opened up. Mr. Myers used his revolver and then seized a rifle, but was only able to fire one round out of it. I then said to Mr. Myers: 'Are we going to make a fight for it?' and he said 'Yes, boys.' It appeared to us that in the other crater the Germans had got up to the remaining garrison and had overpowered them, as I distinctly saw one or two men put up their hands. They were standing thigh deep in mud, and it seemed absolutely hopeless for them to do anything else but surrender. I saw Mr. Biggs and three or four of his men on the enemy's side of the crater. All this time I might mention that the enemy had a machine-gun playing right across the craters and his artillery fire was extremely accurate on our side of the craters where Mr. Myers and our party were. Shortly after this we decided to retire, as we had no means of putting up any resistance, and rather than be taken prisoners decided to get back and give information and ask for a counter-attack. We then started out with a party of three. Mr. Myers was wounded and had to be assisted, also Private McDonald, who was wounded in the back and neck, and a machine-gun man, I think named Whelan, who was wounded in the face, joined us shortly after we left, and later on one of the pigeon men overtook us. I do not know where he came from. The remainder of our small party in the craters must have been killed or taken prisoners. It was about 11 p.m. when we got back to Voormezeele, where we left the wounded."

April 20th, 1916.

The craters were thus lost. The view that they were untenable was obviously shared by the Germans, who made no attempt to occupy them except by way of roving patrols. On the morning of the 20th Major Tait, of the 29th, and a small party made a bold and complete reconnaissance of Crater 6, which he found quite deserted. "The crater lips have been so knocked about that there is no sign of any edge, and the whole is a mass of slimy mud full of dead bodies." On the same evening Lieut. Jackson, of the 29th, took a patrol over the abandoned ground and found it clear except for a party of five Germans who made off as soon as they were seen. The opinion of the regimental officers on the spot was, however, conclusive against re-entering a position from which they had literally been blown out, and their view was accepted by the Higher Command, whose aeroplane information enabled them to tell that the main crater line had been lost on April 6th, and that the retention of the small craters was merely an embarrassment to our own gunners. The position in Crater 1, maintained throughout the fighting of the 19th, remained definitely in our hands.

The story of the craters is like that of most of the battle of St. Eloi, one of misfortune for the 2nd Division; but it is not one of blame. The successive regiments who held the outposts were from the very outset at a great disadvantage compared with their enemies. They were not, and could not be, properly supported by their own gunners while the enemy's artillery was pounding them to pieces.

They endured the horrors of this experience with fortitude, and repelled the earlier assaults with success. But their defences were like a child's castle on the sand, as wave after wave creeps up the shore on an incoming tide. The outlines became blurred and faded under the remorseless gunfire, until the final wave quietly and calmly swept the 29th out of existence. Of a garrison of eighty men one returned unwounded.

[1] The last message dating the 15th.

Moving northwards—The immortal field of Ypres—The greatest of all Canadian battlefields—Description of the ground—Who holds the rim holds the saucer—Advantageous position of the enemy—Sanctuary Wood—Observatory Ridge—The unpleasantness of life and the prevalence of death—Situation of the Canadians—Fortified posts—The German attack begins—The artillery preparation—Jack Johnsons—Whole areas destroyed—A tornado of iron and steel—Canadian trenches swept out of existence—The thunder of high explosives—German guns on the second line—The capture of General Williams—Tragic death of General Mercer—The 4th Canadian Mounted Rifles swallowed up—Heavy casualties—A gallant advance—Machine-guns on Hill 60—Lieuts. Key and Evans make a brave stand—The Princess Pats in the firing line—The exploits of Captain Niven—The gallant-hearted gentleman—A mix-up—Between two fires—Game until the last—Major Critchley—Rescue of men buried alive—Lieut. Glascoe—Canadian guns spotted by the enemy—Attacks repulsed by the Royal Canadians—Plucky deed of Corporal Hood—Loss of sacrifice guns—Lieut. Cotton killed—Faithful unto death—A critical position—The colours of Princess Pats returned to Headquarters—Second Canadian Mounted Rifles move under heavy fire—The enemy loses an opportunity—Energetic action of General Macdonell—The Seventh Brigade in peril—Timely support of the Royal Canadian Regiment—General Butler sends relief—The Fifth Canadian Mounted Rifles hard pressed—Daring reconnaissance of Sergeant Jones—Fifth Canadian Mounted Rifles save the Salient—Heavy losses of the Eighth Brigade—Help at hand.

The fighting since March had, like the Canadians, been moving steadily northward, from the trench raiding opposite Messines and Wytschaete, through the battle of St. Eloi in April, to the successive actions at Sanctuary Wood and Hooge which I am about to record. These actions, which were in scale if not in intensity the greatest of all the Canadian battles, took place but a few miles away from that field of Ypres which the First Division had rendered immortal. The dead who lie in their graves round Langemark and St. Julien might well have stirred in their sleep at the thunder of the Canadian guns. Many men now quick and vigorous were to join them in their last rest, falling in the same spot for the same cause.

In fact, the first action was fought north-east of Ypres, while the present struggle took place south-east and much nearer to it. Anyone who had stood before the war on some high tower within the circle of the vast mediæval ramparts of earth, which have defied even modern artillery, and of the ancient grey walls which still look out across the calm waters of the broad moat and through the poplars which fringe it, would have obtained an excellent view of all save the outer edges of the field of battle. The Menin Road drives out over the flats for a mile, and then for another mile up the gentle slope to the ridge crowned by the ruins of Hooge. This road marks the left and northern boundary of the fighting with the exception of the bombing posts running down to Bellewaarde Beek. This ridge, with one main gap and many irregularities, curves round south-west and runs continuously to Mount Sorrel, where the fighting stops on the south. It represents, as it were, the rim of a saucer of which Ypres is in the central depression: and in war who holds the rim holds the saucer.

Standing on such a position and casting his eye along the ridge from Hooge, the observer sees across a mile or so of green water-meadows striped with the dark lines of high, luxuriant hedges, the northern part covered only by a few isolated and shattered trees, until he comes to Zouave Wood, which runs up into the first and greatest of the gaps. This gap isolates Hooge from the system, and through it the Germans can see right down on to the British trenches in the plain. Farther south the nearer slopes are covered with the great expanse of Sanctuary Wood, once so thick as to be almost impenetrable to the Guards in October, 1914, but now sadly thinned by gun-fire, and crowned by the slight eminences known as Hills 62 and 61.[1] Beyond these comes Mount Sorrel, and the sector of the action is complete; for here the British line breaks suddenly back to the west and to the railway. But between Sanctuary Wood and Mount Sorrel there is a curious feature—Observatory Ridge—a long tongue of higher ground, bare and barren, runs right back due west into the British positions towards Zillebeke village and lake.

June 1st, 1916.

Such was the position occupied by the Third Canadian Division on June 1st, 1916, as seen from the rear—a pleasant prospect if it were not for the signs of devastation, the white-scarred, headless trees, the upcast earth and the growl of the guns which in the salient seem to come from every point on the horizon. Viewed by the Germans from the east, it did not look quite so strong, for they too held high ground dominating slightly in many places the line held by the Canadians.

None the less it is a strong defensive position, and Lord Ernest Hamilton in "The First Seven Divisions" maintains with great show of reason that it was always the natural place from which to protect the town.

High ground may not possess to-day all the importance it had in the warfare of past ages, but the men on the hill still have one great advantage over the men in the hollow: they can see and their enemy is blind. Every trench and every movement of troops can be seen, and artillery fire can be directed and observed with complete accuracy without relying on aeroplanes and balloons, which are imperfect substitutes for direct observation and which bad weather may put out of commission. Furthermore, the life of the infantry in the plain becomes intolerable when every head is liable to show and become the target for immediate fire. Life is too unpleasant and death too prevalent. The Canadian Corps, then, had to hold the plateau at all costs.

This description of the ground may make it easier to understand the positions occupied by the 3rd Division and the 1st Division on its right—for the 2nd Division was still far away on its old ground at St. Eloi, farther to the south, and was not called up to help till a later stage of the action.

The left of the line was held by the 7th Brigade under Brigadier-General A. C. Macdonell, and the right by the 8th Brigade under Brigadier-General Victor Williams. Two companies of the Royal Canadian Regiment, commanded by Lieut.-Colonel C. H. Hill, were firmly astride the Menin Road towards the farther side of the ruins of Hooge village. Their left sloped down through a series of bombing posts to Bellewaarde Beek, where they linked with the 60th British Brigade. Their right extended to the gap, where they were in touch with the Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry. The trenches here had been partially demolished, and an attempt was being made to repair them at the time of the attack. Next to the right came the Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry, under Lieut.-Colonel Buller. They had two companies in the front line, the left-hand one on the slight rise on the northern boundary of Sanctuary Wood, the right-hand one in another gap or dip, so that the regiment had a depression on either side of its position. In the southern section of Sanctuary Wood they met the line of the 1st Canadian Mounted Rifles of the 8th Brigade under Lieut.-Colonel Shaw.[2]


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