In a German trenchIn a German trench.This picture was found by Captain Trounce in a trench which was captured by the British.
In a German trench.
This picture was found by Captain Trounce in a trench which was captured by the British.
In such dugouts as were left we would find attractive souvenirs hung up; to most of these bombs would be attached. Some poor chap would see a good-looking German helmet hung on a nail in the dugout, attempt to remove it, and fire the bomb attached. We decided to go pretty carefully and gingerly about this work and were lucky enough to get through with only ten casualties in our company. After a few days it was not necessary to caution any troops about these little devices which the Boches had provided for us. They would hardly dare step on a stick or twig for fear it was connected to a bomb. We found the German trenches everywhere were honeycombed with subterranean galleries. The majority of these tunnels were from twenty to forty feet in depth, and close-timbered with hard wood, usually four-inch oak. Mile after mile of galleries, usually six feet by four in size, were found, and all were of first-class construction, with the timbers well braced and wedged. It was a constant source of wonder to us as to where they obtained this vast amount of lumber and how the Huns had been able to get it up in such quantities.
I was detailed one day to make a search with a small party for a cavern which existed in the village of Mercatel. I took over the men and we searched very thoroughly throughout the village. Although the cavern undoubtedly existed it was impossible to find any entrance; not only that, but every cellar, dugout, or shelter of any description in Mercatel had been likewise very systematically blown in. At one crossroads in this village, the enemy had blown a crater some sixty feet wide, and it had been necessary to build a road of broken brick through some ruins to make a turnout for the constant traffic. This work was continually shelled by the Huns, and furnishes an illustration of some of the difficulties the engineers encountered at every similar crater blown in the roads in this advance. All the troops possible who could be assigned to building roads were so detailed, but the magnitude of the repairs naturally slowed up our pursuit of the enemy. In the pursuit of the Hun, the light artillery was sent up as quickly as possible; on account of the frightful condition of the roads, it was impossible at first to use the tractors for the heavy guns. The weather was very bad, almost continual rain. The loss of horses was appalling. I understand that 200,000 of these poor animals succumbed to the effects of the hard weather, exposure, heavy work, and shortage of feed. At the side of all roads you would see dozens of horses lying dead, stretched in the mud. Once they fell in the mud, it was next to impossible to get them on their feet again. Among the mules, however, there was little loss. One would see 50 dead horses to 1 dead mule. It was a pitiful sight. Nearly all of the lighter guns and howitzers were taken up with 3 teams of horses, while the heavier guns were brought up after much delay by the usual Holt Caterpillars when the roads were repaired sufficiently to bear the traffic.
We captured thousands of prisoners in the retreat. Almost every day big batches would be brought in and placed in the barbed-wire prisoners' cages of every division on this front. Dazed, dirty-looking specimens for the most part they were, too. Men of all ages were included, from schoolboys to men of apparently nearly fifty years of age. In almost every instance they had been subjected to intense bombardment for several hours or days, and they certainly showed the effects, being in a sloppy, dishevelled condition. A few of them could speak English, but, being very carefully guarded, it was next to impossible to talk to them.
A few were apparently sullen, but the majority looked as if they were pretty well pleased with themselves and realized the war was over for them at any rate. The little German prisoners seemed to be all tin hat and boots. They wore the clumsy boots which we associate with farmers. The wounded were always given first-aid treatment and our men would give them cans of "bully beef," biscuits, and cigarettes, and these were accepted with every evidence of appreciation. After spending a few hours in the prisoners' cages, which were usually placed two to three miles back of the front lines, they would be marched to more permanent camps beyond shell-range, and from the latter would be taken out daily to work on the roads, railroads, etc., under charge of their own N.C.O.'s and an occasional British Tommy. Thousands of these German prisoners are to be seen all over France.
Shortly after the beginning of the retreat of Arras, we were billeted in the village of Blairville, a short distance south. Here we occupied an old ruin, which had evidently been the quarters of some German officers before we arrived. From the cellars of this house we could walk back to their old front-line trenches in underground galleries for over half a mile without once coming on top. In fact, one could go through the entire village underground in this way. The day after our arrival I noticed a French woman coming out of a garden near by. She was carrying something in a yellow scarf and looking very pleased with herself. In answer to my inquiry, she informed me that she had just dug up from her old garden the savings of a lifetime—several thousand francs. The Boche had occupied the village for nearly three years, but had failed to unearth her little fortune. Many old residents had adopted the same means of secreting their money and recovered it after the German retreat.
The relief of the French civilians at the retreating Hun was very marked. As one French girl rather curiously expressed it to me: "Boche partir finish wind up now." Everywhere possible they started to rebuild their roofs and walls, and emerged from their partial cellar life with great satisfaction.
Aboutthree weeks after the enemy had retired on our front opposite Beaurains a series of operations started which were afterward known as the battle of Arras. These were practically started with the splendid capture of the Vimy Ridge by the Canadians. All our fellows were highly delighted at this event, mainly by reason of the fact that we had served there for three months in the previous spring, and could appreciate the extraordinary difficulty of the task of the Canadians in capturing it, especially La Folie Farm. These positions were captured on April 9. Many other villages to the north and south of Arras were captured on following days. It was reported that the First and Third Armies took over 13,000 prisoners in the first few days of this offensive.
Unfortunately, on the 12th of April the inevitable bad weather ensued, and this considerably handicapped our efforts everywhere in this vicinity. The tanks were again much in evidence, being used in hundreds. They were brought up at night along the sunken roads and behind ridges, camouflaged very ingeniously, and then used at dawn the following mornings in attacking with the infantry.
Two types of tanks were used by the British, male and female, the female being the smaller variety. The male tank was equipped with six Lewis automatic rifles and two 6-pounders, the latter firing armor-piercing shells, while the smaller tanks were provided with Lewis guns only. I noticed one of the female tanks was equipped with 6-cylinder silent Knight engines and developed approximately 120 H.P. It had 12 inches of clearance above the ground and was about 8 feet high by about 12 feet wide in the centre, and 25 feet long. The male tanks were larger and heavier, some of these being, I think, more than 45 tons in weight. Afterward in conversation with one of the tank commanders he informed me that they had struck Boche barbed-wire entanglements that day over 10 feet in height and extremely thick. All the tanks have pet names given them by their crews.
The bombardment preceding these daily attacks was very intense, more so even than those of the Somme operations. It was a very interesting spectacle both by day and night. Close up one could hear the continuous roar from the guns and at night the flashes would light up the sky all around. Most of the batteries were set up on the sides of roads. In the retreat and the fast succeeding offensive there had been neither time nor opportunity for the gunners to construct their usual emplacements. It was appalling to consider the cost of some of these bombardments. As an example, the 9.2-inch howitzer shells, thousands of which were fired weekly by each battery, cost about $150 apiece.
In many of the daylight attacks the assaulting infantry would wear small tin plates on their backs. These would flash in the sunlight and enable the gunners to keep them in sight as they advanced over the ridges while they maintained an effective barrage ahead. Many difficulties were encountered in bringing up guns, ammunition, and supplies. On account of the state of the roads, which for a long time were almost impassable, the traffic had to be handled with much judgment and care. One-way traffic routes were established in many places, and military police, usually from cavalry units, were posted by the road control officers at all crossroads. Tie-ups frequently occurred, often resulting in a line of traffic a quarter to half a mile long being held up. The Boche airmen promptly took advantage of this situation by flying over and dropping bombs on us. While we were on road-work it was our business to keep the trucks and wagons steadily moving along. Whenever a truck was ditched we made every one climb down and get behind the wheels and move it off into a field out of the way, or get it out onto the road again.
Since the retreat had started we had been living half the time on our "iron rations," the latter consisting of bully-beef (corned beef), hard biscuits, small cubes of Oxo, with tea and sugar. The tea and sugar were usually carried up in a sand-bag, and when boiled formed a curious concoction which tasted strongly of sand-bag.
The open warfare which developed in this retreat was welcomed by all ranks, and their increased cheerfulness and rise of spirits were very marked. The enemy losses must have been extremely high. In every village, and alongside all roads, the bodies of German soldiers could be seen. I was in Neuville-Vitasse the day after it was captured and saw their dead lying in hundreds in the ditches, on the wire, and in the brick ruins. Ghastly sights they were too. The front line of the famous Hindenburg trenches ran through this village. As we walked into the village we noticed a broken German machine-gun left on a simple earth platform, in a shallow trench by the side of the road. It appeared that the man in charge of this gun had sold his life dearly, for fifty yards beyond some sixty of our poor fellows had been killed by its fire and were already buried there. The infantry were fighting hard at Chérisy, a short distance on our right, and many of their "walking cases" and "stretcher cases" (wounded) passed us going back to the nearest ambulance-station.
The fighting in the air was very active. Observation-balloons were up in large numbers. During this time I saw one of our planes bring down six enemy balloons in less than half an hour. The airman's usual plan was to suddenly drop out of a cloud away above them and let fall a bomb on the hydrogen bags. These would at once burst into flames, and the observers would seldom have time to get into their parachutes.
It was a common practice when the Huns were shelling our balloons, which, by the way, afford a nice large target for shrapnel, for our observers to signal the crew on the winch-truck below to pull them down and then send up an empty balloon again for the Huns to shoot at. No doubt the same ruse is adopted on each side of No Man's Land, but I can vouch for the fact that much German powder was wasted in this way.
The work of the Canadian railway-construction engineers was very fine here. They rebuilt the old standard-gauge French lines which the Germans had destroyed and carried the new roads up to within a mile of the then front lines in the Hindenburg trenches. They were forced to rebuild many trestle-bridges, and their pile-driver crews carried on the work with great rapidity, calmness, and efficiency. The steam from their upright boilers provided an excellent target for Fritz and they were shelled consistently, but nevertheless the Canucks accomplished the work successfully. Twelve-inch naval guns were run up on this standard-gauge railroad and often fired from one to two miles back of the trenches. Previous to the retreat of 1917 it had evidently been more or less the policy of the British to rely mainly on their mechanical transport rather than on light railroads and standard-gauge railroads for transportation of supplies to the most advanced zones.
Since that time the general tendency has been to construct the light railroads almost up to the support-line, or to points within a mile or less behind the front trenches. The standard-gauge railroads also are now carried up much closer. On most sectors on the British fronts the light railways are now laid right up to the front line and supplies sent up on them at night. Previous to this time it was the exception rather than the rule to take them up so far. In this change they have more or less followed the example of the Boche engineers, whose light and standard-gauge roads are run up very close to their forward trenches.
The main difficulty in the constant use of large trucks or motor-vehicles was that the roads could not stand the constant and heavy wear on them. Adequate maintenance for the roads for the last two or three miles was out of the question, on account of the lack of men and material necessary for their repairs, to say nothing of constant hostile shelling. During the previous winters, road control had been established, and the most direct routes to the firing-trenches were often closed for weeks at a time, while all heavy traffic was routed along third-class roads, which were often double the distance of the more direct roads.
During the first week or two of this offensive we were employed on repairing the destroyed roads or building new ones. In many places where they crossed the old trenches we were obliged to take out the timber from the German trenches and dugouts, and corduroy the roads with it. Their lumber proved very useful. In many other instances we used the only material available—brick from the ruins of the buildings near by. These brick roads were naturally not much good, but they served our purpose for a week or two. We found considerable quantities of German high explosives in various dugouts. These we used in demolishing many of their own concrete emplacements, being able later to utilize the concrete so obtained in our work of road-repairing. The large trees which they had felled in such numbers across our path gave us much trouble.
The drainage was of first importance. With the exception of the main metalled or pavé roads, which invariably have ditches running along each side, the majority had no culverts of any description. It was very necessary for us to construct narrow drainage ditches along the sides and run these off into deep sumps dug in the adjoining fields from ten to twenty feet on either side of the road. This is practically the same method that we adopted in draining most of the communication-trenches. In the advance and the half-open warfare then proceeding, the infantry and gunners would carve little "funk-holes" or shelters under or into the banks of the roads, or use their waterproof sheets to cover the little huts they built with low walls of sand-bags filled with dirt.
On account of the Germans having destroyed practically all of their dugouts and shelters, there was little protection for us from their constant and heavy bombardment. Our only resource was to jump into the trenches which lined almost every road. As a matter of fact, trenches are fairly good protection and we were always glad to use them.
In addition to our rebuilding the highways we were engaged in making a reconnaissance of all the captured district in this area, and perfecting plans for the thorough salvaging of all enemy material left behind. The amount and value of this was very great and included rails, timber, iron, ammunition, explosives, and many other useful things. A light railway was constructed for several miles in the old No Man's Land and millions of dollars' worth of material recovered, even including the iron knife-rests for supporting barbed wire.
We used very large quantities of the old German dugout timber in constructing new dugouts in our recently captured positions.
It was common practice by this time to start the construction of new deep-mined dugouts if the trenches were occupied a week only. In the past the British were always optimistic about capturing the other fellows' trenches before long and had contented themselves with very frail, easily built shelters. As a natural result the casualties had been enormous.
It was not surprising to us that the morale of the German troops should be so inferior to ours. The fact that they practically lived underground most of the time, and even when on duty in the trenches above usually occupied one of their heavily reinforced concrete or thick steel-plated "pill-boxes," readily explained their rooted objection to facing the music on top. When our sentries were on duty they had practically no protection except, perhaps, the very occasional use of a sort of steel breastplate and always a sharp pair of eyes.
The German emplacements or strong points, often referred to as "pill-boxes," were built in the most solid manner. The reinforcing of the concrete was usually accomplished with the use of round steel bars, rails, and I-beams placed at very close intervals in a rich mixture of concrete, while the foundations were deep and also well constructed.
Many of the steel-plate emplacements were used. These were usually constructed of steel plates two or more inches thick, bolted together and embedded in a concrete foundation. As in the case of the concrete strong points, they would nearly always withstand direct hits from shells of average caliber. We found many "pill-boxes," with three-inch shells sticking out of the steel reinforcing rods.
We were camped under canvas for several weeks at the village of Boyelles, about two miles back. Within a hundred yards of us was placed a large ammunition-dump, including many gas-shells. No cover for them could be obtained, so the shells were merely placed on the ground and covered with tarpaulins. Every night we were strafed hard at this camp, but, luckily, the dump was not hit. One night, we were quietly playing cards in our camp when a Taube dropped five bombs in quick succession within twenty yards of our tents, killing four horses and two men. This bomb-dropping was then, as now, a common occurrence behind the lines.
The work of the ambulance men and drivers during these days was splendid. On May 3 another man and I were watching with our glasses from an assembly-trench very near the shelling of an aid-post with Boche eight-inch shells. This post was in a dugout off the side of the road and the Huns were placing nearly every one of these heavy shells squarely on top of it or on the middle of the road. During the thick of this terrific bombardment we saw several Ford ambulance drivers bring their cars up, load their cases, and drive calmly away again.
The next day one of the infantry officers on our front who was scheduled to lead an attack "over the top" got started through some miscalculation five minutes before the appointed zero hour. The whole of his party ran into our own barrage and were nearly all blotted out. The same officer survived—but reached a dressing-station near us quite out of his mind.
Up the road a short distance from our camp was an infantry company officers' dugout, with another near them occupied by their orderlies. One night in May a Boche eight-inch shell burst on top of the orderlies' dugout and buried them completely. Unfortunately, the fact was not discovered until daylight, and when the entrance was cleaned out again the men had been dead for some time. So many were buried by shell explosions in this way that all dugouts are now constructed with two or more entrances.
OnMay 20 we engineered a most successful underground operation, and very materially aided our infantry in capturing another 500 yards of the famous Hindenburg line. In order to understand the situation more clearly, I will endeavor to explain briefly the construction of these Hindenburg-line trenches. They had undoubtedly been constructed during the months previous to the German retreat and were cleverly planned and executed. It was apparent that the enemy had intended to retreat to them and to hold them at any cost, and their subsequent capture by the British must have occasioned the Boche General Staff considerable surprise and pain. It was evident that the Germans last year, instead of constructing armored tanks to oppose ours, had decided to build large, deep trenches which they hoped would prove in most cases an insurmountable obstacle to the British tanks. The tanks could not normally cross a very wide trench, but the terrific artillery bombardment of the British succeeded in levelling off the trenches so that a tank commander by careful observation would be able to spot places at intervals over which he could waddle his machine. The usual three lines—reserve, support, and front—had been built, very heavy, wide, and dense barbed-wire obstacles separating them. All of these trenches were approximately twelve to fourteen feet deep and fourteen feet wide at the top. Opening from the sides at about fifty yards' intervals were dugout entrances built at an angle of forty-five degrees to the surface.
These entrances all opened out at the bottom into a uniform gallery six feet by four in size. The galleries ran underground for miles; one could go down an entrance in one village and come up again ten or more miles away in another. Everywhere there was an overhead cover of hard chalk and clay of from thirty to forty feet. As happens in nearly all of the Boche underground work, the tunnels and dugouts were all built of four-inch oak case sets, closely timbered throughout. On both sides of the tunnel at frequent intervals small chambers were cut out for the use of officers, non-coms., and cooks. In the main galleries the sides were lined with double bunks, in size six feet by two, made roughly of two-by-four lumber with chicken wire nailed across for the men to sleep on.
As these bunks took up about two feet of the four-foot width of gallery, it must have made it very difficult for the stretcher-bearers to move the wounded out. The enemy incidentally had very accurate surveys of these trenches and could always be relied on to place their shells squarely on or in these captured trenches.
Their former German garrisons had done themselves very well, and many evidences of comfort were found which are absent from our own trenches.
View from rear of a typical German reinforced concrete machine-gun emplacementView from rear of a typical German reinforced concrete machine-gun emplacement. Taken on the Hindenburg line south of Arras.Although the trench itself was blown to pieces by British artillery fire and the machine-gun crew either killed or captured, no harm was done to the concrete emplacement.
View from rear of a typical German reinforced concrete machine-gun emplacement. Taken on the Hindenburg line south of Arras.
Although the trench itself was blown to pieces by British artillery fire and the machine-gun crew either killed or captured, no harm was done to the concrete emplacement.
At intervals of approximately 100 yards the Germans had built reinforced concrete emplacements, with usually the top of the emplacement, or pill-box, from a foot to 18 inches above the surface of the surrounding ground. These well-nigh impregnable positions were all very ingeniously camouflaged, and could not be detected by the sharpest eyes from the direction of our trenches until one was almost on top of them; and even then the only thing to be seen were one or two firing loopholes. The illustration shown here was from a photograph taken in the Hindenburg line from behind the "pill-box," where, of course, no screening was necessary.
It will be readily seen that this emplacement had not been damaged much; in fact, it was practically intact, only small pieces of concrete having been chipped off by our shells. The trench itself had been almost obliterated by our artillery-fire, and the sides so destroyed that it was possible for a tank to cross. The emplacements in the Hindenburg line, as elsewhere, were variously used as machine-gun posts, observation-posts, trench-mortar positions, snipers' posts, etc. The British referred to this type of concrete pill-box as a "Mebus." It was a matter of considerable difficulty to destroy them from above by artillery-fire, and even if our gunners made a direct hit with a heavy shell it was seldom put out of business.
About a week before the time I have referred to we were informed that two infantry assaults had come "unstuck" and the parties composing them nearly all "scuppered" by reason of the heavy and accurate fire coming from a double machine-gun concrete emplacement some 200 feet in front of our most advanced barricade in the Hindenburg trench opposite the village of Fontaine-les-Croisilles. The artillery had endeavored several times to destroy this position, but were not successful. It became necessary to remove it.
The division staff then inquired of our company commander as to whether we could do anything from below. He thought we could and my section was detailed for the job. My company commander, Captain Miller, incidentally one of the finest sportsmen I ever wish to meet, was delighted with the opportunity.
The subsoil here was a hard chalk, and the top-soil a sandy clay, the latter averaging from seven to ten feet in thickness. It was essential to the success of our scheme that we confine our underground tunnel to the clay, it being possible to excavate in the clay almost without noise, while in the chalk below this could not be done.
Starting from an old dugout entrance we constructed a tunnel approximately four by two feet for some distance, and from this point to our objective continued a "rabbit-hole" three feet by two in size. As we had only an average of two feet of clay above our gallery we were considerably bothered by our own shells landing near, and on one occasion they destroyed it with an eighteen-pounder. At other times we broke through into shell-craters on our way over. One night after a heavy rain I was on duty in the tunnel when we were pretty close to the German pill-box and their crew. The earth sloughed away from the top of the gallery and exposed the timber of our gallery-sets. We blew out the candles at once and very carefully placed some muddy sand-bags over the exposed portion. Being so near the Boche sentries, we were fearful that they would have spotted our light, heard our low whispering, or even our heavy breathing.
The next night we struck the concrete of the emplacement, and very carefully excavating down to the bottom of the clay against the position, we placed a charge of some 500 pounds of high explosive, carefully inserted the usual detonators and electric leads tamped the gallery for some 30 feet back in the tunnel, and the next dawn at the "zero" hour fired the charge the instant the infantry went over the top.
The resulting explosion very satisfactorily disposed of the troublesome "Mebus" and largely enabled the 4th King's Liverpool Regiment to capture some 200 yards of the trenches. Some 12 hours later the 2d Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders continued the attack and captured an additional 300 yards, as far forward as the River Sensée (at this time a dried-up stream). In addition to a large number of Germans killed, they captured many wounded and over 60 unwounded prisoners that day, the latter caught in the underground tunnels completely by surprise. Early the next morning the Germans attempted a counter-attack in force, but the assembly having been observed by the F.O.O.'s, the gunners promptly and efficiently broke up the party.
I noticed the next day that smoke was issuing from a number of the tunnel entrances in the area captured, and other entrances were badly burned. In conversation with one of the Scotch officers it developed that the Jocks invited the Huns to come up out of the dugouts only once with their hands up to surrender. If they failed to respond promptly, bombs would be thrown down into the tunnels to expedite matters. This officer complained that he had posted sentries to guard the prisoners at each dugout entrance, but that as soon as his back was turned some trouble would occur, which necessitated more bombing practice on the part of the Scotch sentry. This was only a small affair, a battalion stunt. Everywhere along this front each day some attacks would take place, perhaps a regimental or brigade attack, or at other times just a small company raid.
For a day or two after this attack our trenches here were filled with the bodies of Germans and British. H.E. and bombs are terrible things.
It's all too big for words! I can only describe some of the incidents I saw or was connected with. These are typical of what was constantly occurring, and this was happening everywhere in our vicinity. The bodies and even uniforms were almost torn to pieces. Below in the dugouts were the German dead and wounded, the dead in every conceivable position, lying sprawled across the steps of the dugout entrances, half hanging from the dugout bunks, or on the floors of the tunnel. The wounded had been given first-aid treatment, and our soldiers were giving them a share of their rations and cigarettes. Some of our men were searching around for German souvenirs, the invariable practice after the first excitement of an attack is over. I tried to talk to some wounded Germans, but couldn't get very far with the conversation, then left them some cigarettes and passed on. We found many things of value. The Boches had set up an electrical listening-instrument in the chalk from the tunnel below, but had apparently, unfortunately for themselves, neglected to listen to our underground work in the clay above.
Attacks were made almost daily on this front. A week or so before the attack just described, a party of the Leicester Regiment had suffered badly. A party of some 200 wounded infantry, including, I believe, some other units, had been captured by the Huns and placed for the time being in a German barbed-wire prisoners' cage in the village of Fontaine-les-Croisilles. This village was a popular target with our artillery, and soon after these British soldiers had been placed in the cage it was shelled badly by the English gunners.
The account comes from a wounded corporal whom we helped to haul in over the parapet one night. He stated that during the bombardment the Hun sentries bolted and all these prisoners who could walk or crawl escaped, a few of them, including himself, managing to reach No Man's Land and at night our own trenches. Although a prisoner for only a short time, his account of the treatment accorded them confirms all of the stories of the brutality inherent in the German race. No treatment was given to the wounded, not even first-aid. No water or food of any kind was allowed them, and whenever a German guard noticed a prisoner looking up or around, he was struck over the head.
The same night a sergeant of the same battalion crawled back over our parapet after having spent four days in No Man's Land with a broken arm. The poor chap had been bombed, and sniped at as he crawled painfully back, and machine-guns all along the line had opened fire on him. No one was to blame; all sentries have explicit instructions to fire at anything moving in No Man's Land. It was a marvel he even reached our parapet, but he told us there were other poor fellows out there still alive. Rescue-parties were instantly organized and brought in all the poor chaps they could find.
One of our own tanks had broken down in a previous attack and was now lying in a shallow sunken road about twenty yards from our most advanced position. The caterpillar tread of this machine had broken, and it was then occupied by an infantry detail, the former tank crew having gone back to man another tank. From this machine we could get good observation of the enemy trenches. To get to it in daytime we had to double across the road and get inside in a hurry.
It is an unfortunate fact that many of our men were wounded from our own shelling in these Hindenburg trenches. When a programme "strafe" by our heavy guns and howitzers was planned on the nearest enemy trenches, it was the practice to withdraw the infantry and engineer parties who were on duty or working in our most advanced trenches. With the ever-increasing destructive radius of our heavy H.E. shells it was impossible to avoid a certain percentage of casualties of this nature. Occasionally also other shells would burst short. I was standing by the side of a sentry one day when his arm was broken by a shell fragment, and every one can record instances of close shaves from them.
With the bulk of the German troops opposite us in deep dugouts most of their time, it was an increasing problem with the gunners to secure targets. I was observing one day with an F.O.O. when we spotted a couple of Boches running across from one trench to another. He promptly called to his telephonist to order three guns of Battery No. —— (three-inch) to open fire on them. At the same time he remarked: "We're doing lots of sniping with our eighteen-pounders these days."
One day about this time I was walking back to the village of Hénin with my section commander when a staff limousine pulled up on the road and a staff captain and half a dozen correspondents stepped out. The staff captain inquired as to whether there were any of the new heavy howitzer batteries near us and, if so, could we recommend them as being reasonably safe. The correspondents wished to see some in action. As it happened, there was a 9.2-inch battery quite close and we introduced these gentlemen to the gunner major in charge of the battery. Mr. Hilaire Belloc was pointed out to me as one of the party. I understand the latter gentleman walked on to the first Hindenburg line shortly after.
Our main company camp at this time was at Boisleau-St.-Mare, some three to four miles back. We could usually figure here on being out of the war, as we expressed it. Nevertheless, one day when we were at lunch in one of the Nissen huts, of corrugated-iron construction, the Huns were shelling an observation-balloon near us. Numerous fragments struck the hut. Some of us decided to lunch in our tin hats. One of the mess-waiters was severely wounded in the head at the same time. The shelling of camps at this distance was rather exceptional, though, and only occurred at intervals.
My furlough coming due toward the end of May, I applied to the brigade commander for leave to visit Paris. The request was not granted, apparently on account of the fact that too many officers were applying. Instead of going to Paris, I crossed over to London for the ten days' "permission."
Whilst in London and some two days before I left to return to the trenches in France, General Pershing and his staff arrived in Liverpool and came on down to London. Since our declaration of war I had been trying very persistently to transfer to our own army, but had not had much success. General Pershing and his officers were stopping at the Savoy Hotel. I immediately called on some of the engineer officers, being delighted to see and talk to some real American men again after such a long time. The officers were much interested and did their best to straighten matters out so that I could be at once transferred. Unfortunately, there was some red tape to unentangle, and finally I was advised to hand in my written resignation as a British officer and ask the British authorities to accept it on the grounds that I wished to join my own army, and thought my experience would be of value in training our men. Accordingly I mailed my resignation from London to my commanding officer and returned to the trenches.
On my return to the Cambrai sector I found my section were engaged in salvaging enemy timber and other material from the old German lines near us. After a short time at this work I was ordered to take command of another of our company sections who were at that time building new dugouts near the Hindenburg trenches close to Bullecourt. There had been a recent mining alarm there, but our fellows had, as I was informed, satisfactorily disposed of it. In the course of a few days I received a "chit" (note) from the brigade major of the infantry occupying the sector, stating that "suspicious noises believed to be enemy mining" had been reported from a Lewis-gun party who were occupying a "Mebus" (old German pill-box) at the end of Lump Lane, the latter a forward trench which served as a communication between two firing-trenches. Accompanied by an experienced miner I visited the "Mebus" and we both listened for some time. We heard the enemy working, but could get nothing satisfactory from this spot. A short distance from the "Mebus" in No Man's Land we found an old dugout entrance which had been half filled in with loose earth. We carefully crawled down this and listened. Very soon we heard the Germans talking and walking past in the gallery below us, going past us and in the direction of the "Mebus." One man would go down while the other remained on top in order to cover against surprise. Every time we moved whilst listening in this entrance a shower of dirt would slip and run down the sides of the gallery, making considerable noise. This was not pleasant, as we expected the Huns to hear it. We reported the situation to the infantry and advised their withdrawing their post from the end of Lump Lane. In addition to the Lewis-gun post there was a bombers' post of four to six men within twenty yards of the former. The infantry company commander was very loath to act on our advice, particularly as the "Mebus" was an admirable observation-post.
The next day the divisional commander visited this sector of his front and, hearing of the suspected mining, ordered me to report to him. At the battalion dugout I repeated to him the advice I had given the company commander, with the result that he promptly instructed the latter officer to withdraw the posts referred to.
In order to play safe, we at once started to counter-mine from trenches a little farther back. A few days later the Huns fired a mine almost directly under the "Mebus." The infantry occupying the former post would most certainly have been all killed.
It was quite evident that, although the trenches above had been captured from the Boche, below ground the old tunnels had not been destroyed at this place. Usually, as the Huns retired in the Hindenburg line, they destroyed the galleries below as well as barricading the trenches on top.
Our work in the Hindenburg trenches was most interesting. Relics of the former inhabitants were around everywhere, buried or half buried in the trench above and lying around in the galleries below. Uniforms, equipment, bombs, ammunition, even black bread and sausage, cigars, beer, and numerous other things were found. The work of cleaning them out was a big task. All dugouts have a peculiar "fug" of their own, but these German dugouts were particularly unpleasant. The work of repairing the tunnels and rebuilding these parts which they had destroyed was given to us. Most of my company were split into small parties, and our work extended for several miles along this front. Some six or eight of our men would be detailed to dugouts or other work, and each of these parties would have usually from fifteen to twenty infantrymen to assist them.
At this time the Australians were having some very heavy fighting at Bullecourt. The enemy had made over twelve counter-attacks in attempting to recover the positions lost. The roads through Croisilles and up to the trenches were badly shelled. The alertness of the military police stationed at crossroads certainly saved many casualties. The familiar "shelling up the road, sir," often prevented our running into bad spots. We would wait for a short while and then go on.
Our men, instead of marching up the roads in artillery formation, would in the daytime hike across the fields in groups of two or three, usually trying to avoid battery positions. This undoubtedly reduced our casualties. We gave them always a contract task to do, such as placing three or four sets of timber, excavating the necessary dirt and camouflaging the latter.
After long experience we found this method the most satisfactory. When their work had been passed by the shift non-com., they could go out to their camp. These section camps were approximately from a mile to a mile and a half back of the trenches. For a time whilst in the Bullecourt trenches we occupied dugouts in a chalk quarry in the support-line. When things were fairly quiet we would ride right up to this point on our motorcycles. These chalk dugouts were also the regimental headquarters and first-aid post. In a cubbyhole opposite ours in these quarters I met one of the most genial M.O.'s (medical officers) I ever knew. His good humor was infectious and his light, cheery badinage to his patients of the utmost value. On the 18th of July, after having been up on our two days' shift, I said good-by to this officer, thinking I would be back again in another forty-eight hours. On my arrival at the section-camp I was greeted with the news that my resignation had been accepted and that my name had appeared in the official paper, theLondon Gazettewith the following announcement: "Temp. Lieut. H. D. Trounce relinquished his commission and is granted the honorary rank of second lieut., Royal Engineers—July 15th."
I had been serving in the trenches as a civilian since the 15th of July. As a matter of fact, I left the quarry at the right time. On July 19th the Huns were shelling them with 250-mm. shells. Most of them burst on top, each making craters about 30 feet wide and about 15 feet deep, though one with a defective fuse did not burst, but penetrated through some 18 feet of hard chalk to our dugouts and buried itself 15 feet below the floor about 10 feet away from our bunk. Fortunately it did not burst there, though 4 or 5 men were killed by the timber it smashed as it came through. The total penetration was over 40 feet.
Conclusion
My experience has been in no way unique; thousands of other men have gone through and are now experiencing much greater risks and hardships than any I have so far encountered. Fortunate men like myself live to write or talk of them, but in doing so feel almost contemptible to themselves when they compare their lot with those of the men who have given their lives and their all in the great sacrifice for the cause of humanity. However, we have taken our chance and now we are only too glad of an opportunity to tell of the bravery and cheerfulness of our comrades in the trenches. In my account I have related a number of characteristic incidents which came within my own observation, or which happened on our small front. Thousands of such incidents are happening every day all along the line and are a part of the every-day life.
On my return to the United States I returned to California for a short vacation and the rest I badly needed. In October, 1917, I received a commission as a captain in the Engineer Reserve Corps, and reported again for duty, and I now am expecting that I will be shortly ordered overseas again.
When I return this time it will not be for love of adventure, curiosity, or any such reason, only the same sense of duty which impels most of us to the task. Although there is undoubtedly a certain fascination which admits of no reasonable explanation in living in and going up to the trenches, I have never yet met a man who has spent alongperiod there who can truthfully tell me he really likes it.
Our great army is still new to us, but, nevertheless, I believe it is the duty of every person with a fair sense of justice, to learn to distinguish between the various aims of the service. The infantryman is the man who undergoes most of the dangers and risks, the real fighting man, and the man too who experiences the greatest hardships and discomforts. Find out if you can where a man has served, whether it was in the trenches or in a more or less comfortable billet in a village far from the lines and appreciate him accordingly. When successful actions occur in which the infantry, as usual, are the main heroes, don't forget the work of the engineer which made much of the success possible. A lady said to me recently: "Why, the engineers are in no danger, they don't go into the trenches, do they?" I hope that my account of an engineer's life at the front will do something to dismiss such ideas.
Every man and woman who plays his or her full part in this great struggle is justly accorded honor, and the greater the sacrifice the greater the honor.
I would not depreciate for a minute the value to the country of those men in the rear of the lines who are a necessary and vital part of the machinery of war, but I am jealous for the men who suffer most and endure almost unbearable hardships in the real trenches.
No officer who has served in this campaign has anything but the most unstinted praise for the men in the ranks—the real workers and the real fighting men. Many of us have felt at times that we were hardly fit to even tie their shoe-laces, such examples of cheerfulness and courage did they set us, and such inspiration did they afford us with their never-tiring devotion. Thoughts of this nature occurred to me last year when we buried one of our own lads just behind the lines, and paid him the last and only salute that an enlisted man receives. But his memory will never die!
Froma prolonged and varied experience under shell-fire, machine-gun, rifle, trench-mortar fire, etc., and from an intimate and close association with men of all kinds in times of deadly peril, it seems evident to me that personal courage is very largely a matter of physical condition and general health, and that, provided a man be healthy and his nerves in good condition, it is natural for him to be brave.
In the case of a man of liberal education, used to the refinements of life, imagination is an important factor of personal bravery, and I think it would not be incorrect to say that sixty per cent of his courage is dependent upon the possession of good health, and the remaining forty per cent representing strong control of will and nerves.
He who is less educated, less sensitive, or whose nerves are less highly strung, relies to a greater extent on his physical condition, and the element of imagination is naturally less, representing, one might say, for purposes of comparison, eighty per cent physical condition and twenty per cent mental. The imagination of such a one, as a rule, does not carry him to the same lengths as does that of an educated man, and his envisage, as it might be termed, is only concerned with the actual events happening in the immediate vicinity, while his mind quite philosophically reviews, or more often fails to consider, the possible dangers ahead of him. The mind of the man of intelligence is so much more active, sees so much further, and his observation and experience so plainly tell him certain possible and eventual consequences, that it is only by the exercise of very strong will-power that he succeeds in subduing the apprehensions into which his superior mentality carries him and in rising above them.
As a matter of actual fact, every one, educated and uneducated alike in different degree, experiences some distressing reflections on the eve of an attack, especially of an infantry attack. For the ten or fifteen minutes immediately preceding the "zero" hour, as it is called, or the second in which the men go "over the top" they usually have some leisure moments in which they are bound to reflect upon a possibly disastrous outcome. This period is particularly trying, but the average man is much more afraid of being thought afraid by his comrades than he is of the danger itself, and this feeling is necessarily greater in the minds of the more imaginative. Once he is started in the actual forward movement and has work to do, his mind is occupied nearly always to the complete exclusion of everything but the matter in hand; the excitement drives the emotion of natural fear from his mind; only in the lulls in the action is he conscious of any unpleasant moments, and it is just for such moments as these that our strenuous military training is largely intended. Weak men fail under the strain, and disasters ensue. But the long hours of drill and training have so instilled habits of self-control and obedience that this, combined with the inherent strong characters of men, the necessities of the moment, and their desire and determination to do their best, enable them to rise to heights never experienced at times less critical.
The above remarks refer to the sensations of the soldier about to enter upon an attack; every-day trench warfare is rather different. During quiet intervals, when the enemy are not raining missiles in his immediate vicinity, only his subconscious mind asserts itself, and the nervous strain, although existent, does not usually evidence itself in any outward form. However, when troops are being shelled badly, or, I should say, being "strafed," a worried and reflective look can be seen in the eyes of most men, which is usually accompanied by perspiration as a physical sign. Trench warfare has been very accurately defined as "months of intense boredom punctuated by moments of intense funk." This expression seems to cover the experience fairly well.
As a general thing, it is true that occupation of some kind which involves mental effort is nearly always effective in banishing thoughts of fear, and in times of extreme danger the most courageous of acts are performed when one is so absorbed in the endeavor to accomplish the purpose desired that the slightest thought is not given to the possibility of death, wounds, or sacrifice; and it is due to this absolute self-effacement that the most heroic deeds are done.
The unknown always presents the most fearsome aspect. A known and experienced danger invariably results in a much-increased confidence in one's will and powers of self-control.
The attitude of men in trench warfare is an illustration. For the first week or two they are "jumpy" and take very good care not to expose themselves needlessly; their imagination runs away with them to some extent, and they conjure up in their minds visions of themselves wounded, maimed, or even blown to pieces. Especially do these mind-pictures rise when they are alone in dangerous places. I remember that soon after I first went into the trenches, and, walking by myself at night (when it seems somehow that all dangers are accentuated) over a stretch of flat ground where no cover or shelter existed, and where, nightly, the enemy would pour a hail of machine-gun bullets over us. I remember well the very unpleasant sensations which raced through my mind, and of its dwelling particularly on the chance of my being hit and of being left badly wounded there on the ground for hours unnoticed, or until daylight came. I do not doubt but that my mind, like others, was naturally influenced by some of the terrible things we had seen. One of the first sights that I happened upon in the very place to which I have just referred was a poor chap, a fellow engineer officer, who had been caught by a machine-gun fire, and who was lying dead in the path. How long he had been lying there I do not know.
Men are not usually alone in the front-line trenches, day or night, but occasionally this happens. I can recall very distinctly, in going my rounds visiting the different mine-shafts alone at night, of wondering, as I walked from fire-bay to fire-bay, separated by earth traverses or blocks, as to whether, as I cautiously made my way around, I would suddenly stumble on some Boche stealthily prowling there in the bay ahead or whether one would catch me from behind in the dark as I passed along. I was ready for them at any time, always carrying a couple of small bombs in my blouse pocket, but it's an eerie feeling that one has when patrolling sectors which are very close and often raided by the enemy at night. After many such experiences as these, men begin to form those habits of self-control which must characterize a good soldier.
But "revenons à nos moutons," as our French comrades say. After the first two or three weeks the average man acquires more confidence, and at this time the officers of his unit have to be especially careful in warning him against needless exposure. Then it is that he gets reckless, looks over the parapet every now and then, and in other ways shows an overconfidence which always results in an increase in the casualty lists.
A few months pass—a short time in an ordinary life, but a time so crowded with different sensations to the man in the trenches that it seems an eternity—he develops into a seasoned and confident soldier, and, while showing at all necessary times the strength and courage of the real fighting man in not fearing to make or face any attack, he meanwhile sensibly takes advantage of all possible cover available in the hope that he may not become a casualty before he has been of some real service to his country.
It is, of course, my conviction that, man for man, we are more than a match for our enemy; and when hand-to-hand fighting occurs, we can always rely on our fellows smashing the Hun. It is inspiring to me to see the confidence with which our new soldiers take their training: at first diffident, and later growing in confidence and assurance as they realize their ability to take care of themselves and punish the enemy. It has been my privilege to lecture to engineer officers and men, and I have felt to a marked degree the enthusiasm and conviction of superiority which is in the soul of every fighting man at our big camps.
What real man could fail to feel the grip of this war? Who would hesitate to show in a practical way the thoughts and ideals for which America stands? For is notevery onecalled upon to dohisshare for humanity and freedom?
Miningis an effective weapon, but it must be applied to suitable objectives, and its use restricted by certain rules which have been deduced from experience.
As regards the actual processes, the only important changes to be anticipated are the development of the use of rapid tools and of high explosives.
The most vulnerable points in trench-mine warfare are the following: Listening and observation posts in advance of the line; machine-gun and trench-mortar positions; junction-points of communicating-trenches with front line.
Mines were employed to attack, and countermines to defend, many besieged cities in the past, but the application of mining methods in trench warfare has at no time or place reached the scientific development which obtains in the present war, though our own Civil War furnishes several examples of its use in connection with the trench fighting of those days, viz.: Petersburg, Va., and other localities.
The situation of the western front is briefly as follows: Some thousands of mines have been blown by the Germans, British, and French, many of them with very large charges. The British and French were mostly engaged in defensive operations during 1915 and a portion of 1916, but since that date the application of mining methods by the Allies has been mostly on the offensive. Wherever opposing trenches are close together, mining warfare has almost invariably ensued. Mining fluctuates from time to time, and in 1915 and 1916 was most active on this front. It is always a possibility to be reckoned with, although the element of surprise, the most important factor in offensive mining operations, has now been largely discounted. On the other hand, the field of mining activity has been enlarged and is constantly changing. The destruction of enemy strong points is now an important problem for mining engineers. The use of mines in destroying roads and shelters also, in what might be described as the half-open warfare which has been so common this year, and in strategical retreats, is of increasing importance. The necessity of training engineer-pioneer units is important, as in the absence of special mining troops, this work may fall to their lot, particularly in the case of defensive operations in order to protect the infantry.
On account of the large number of men, quantity of material, expense, etc., the use of mining operations is very carefully considered beforehand, and careful plans devised before starting on any underground operations. Attacks are sometimes undertaken only to demolish a portion of the hostile trenches, in view of a local operation. At other times they form a part of a large offensive movement. Generally speaking, speed and silence are the first requisites. If these can be obtained with any degree of certainty, mining operations are nearly always successful. In the underground struggle in this war, the forces with superior personnel, material, and explosives at their disposal are bound to win, this is a fact proven by actual experience. The objectives will be usually such points as cannot be destroyed by artillery-fire, areas organized with deep dugouts and strong points which form valuable objectives, etc.
Almost everywhere on the western front the enemy are intrenched in deep, well-constructed trenches, and in nearly every area these trenches are further fortified by numerous deep dugouts and underground galleries, in most cases close-timbered with four-inch oak and other hard woods. The German mine systems are also almost invariably close-timbered.
In the same way as the general principles of tactics in open warfare agree with those of trench warfare, they are guided by the same logical reasoning. Many considerations must be studied before adopting any plan of offense.
With regard to depth below the surface, the miner must be guided by the elevation of his objective and by the nature of the strata through which he will have to work. In most operations the water-level is an important factor in considering depth.
It must be always borne in mind that mining is not an independent service, but is employed in connection with the other arms of the service.
Underground activity, either offensive or defensive, is first observed from those points in our lines nearest the enemy. All enemy trenches facing salients of our lines will be the object of particular attention and closest daily observation. This observation of the first-line and support-line trenches should disclose the presence of enemy underground works and their approximate location. For their definite location, the most careful listening underground must be done.
Aeroplane pictures are a source of much valuable information if studied very carefully. Aeroplane photographs covering several weeks, and if possible several months, are procured from the nearest squadron of the air service. The use of a strong magnifying glass will probably discover chalk mounds where fresh heaps are, by comparison with previous aeroplane photographs, shown to be growing in size; and other features or changes which will afford useful information on careful study. Particular attention is paid to new trenches in the enemy's lines. In fact, any change from week to week in these aeroplane photographs is carefully accounted for. If further pictures are desired, particularly just after craters have been blown by the enemy or ourselves, they are furnished by the air service. The enemy's lines are studied from day to day with field-glasses. Perhaps the accumulation of sand-bags different in color to the others will be noticed, or freshly placed earth, white and less dull in color than that of the parapets, which have been washed by the rain and blackened by explosives. As a matter of fact, in mining operations in Flanders, where blue clay was encountered, the bags containing the clay (different in color to surface clay) were so distributed along the front-line trenches or breastworks on both the enemy and British trenches that it was a matter of considerable difficulty to obtain much information from this source. It was, of course, common knowledge that both sides were engaged in mining and fairly accurate information as to position of enemy galleries was deduced, but the actual location of enemy mine-shafts was very difficult to determine, as quite a number of mine-shafts emanate from dugouts and are connected up with others.
Listening reports give a fair idea of where the enemy's galleries are, and plans are made up showing the suspected location of enemy galleries or mine system. These plans are developed in accordance with the evidence furnished. Careful observation may show that a number of men come up the communication-trenches regularly to certain spots and there disappear from view. One may notice carrying parties coming up with timber, by catching sight of the timber above the trench. Infantry listening patrols, who have been listening in "No Man's Land" at night may have heard the sound of machinery or ventilators at work, or some other sounds which go to prove the existence of enemy mining, or the location of mine-shafts, etc. It is important to listen in "No Man's Land" at night, in order to obtain definite information or confirm the reports from infantry.
Sufficient evidence being obtained as to probable location of enemy mine-shafts, or dugout entrances, etc., there is difficulty in having these places "strafed" by our own trench-mortars and artillery.
In the desire to obtain evidence of the enemy's activity underground, the proper camouflage of one's own spoil-heaps and entrances cannot be neglected.
It is essential to have a scheme of attack. Numerous attacks have failed on account of there being no clearly thought-out plan. A common mistake has been failure to anticipate possible counter-mining by the enemy, and to commence the attack without guarding against it.
Study of the objective and the ground will therefore furnish the information necessary to settle the essential elements of the scheme.
The attacks must be arranged so as to reach the objective in spite of anything the enemy may do. The vulnerable parts are the flanks; that is, both the flanks of galleries or branch galleries which are first constructed, and also the flanks of the combined scheme.
Usually it is of no advantage to begin an offensive by mining if the enemy has covered his position with countermines; if the distance to be covered is more than 150 yards; or if the water-level is very shallow.
There should be more galleries than the actual number needed to reach the objective.
They should be placed close enough to each other to insure enemy operations being detected from either parallel gallery.
If the enemy tries to bar the way by counter-mining, a breach must be made in his system, so that, in spite of him, the galleries may be driven to their objectives and charges placed as previously arranged.
The underground struggle which ensues must aim at clearing the ground by destroying the enemy's galleries, and at holding him to one part of the front whilst the attack passes elsewhere (to one side, above or below) by working quicker.
In order to do this successfully, it is necessary to get ahead of the enemy and strike before he can do so, to go for the flanks of the enemy's galleries, to strike as hard as possible, and to strike only when within good range.
To insure this it is required to have an accurate plan of the mines, a well-organized system of information, and decision and rapidity in execution. The value of a blow on the enemy's flank by placing the charges at the sides of branches or galleries will be enhanced.
In meeting the enemy underground, maximum-charge camouflets are largely employed. These will naturally vary with the depths at which they are placed.
To strike within good range requires great coolness. Every explosion causes a temporary delay in the attack, because it will damage part of the gallery leading to the charge. A mine should be fired only when it is considered that it is likely to do more damage to the enemy than to ourselves.