This movement had to be carried out while the air was foul with poisonous fumes, while shells were bursting all around, and bullets were flying from scores of machine guns and hundreds of rifles. By nightfall the left wing of the 3rd Brigade was in its new position. Then, under the flickering light of burning farmhouses and cottages and the fitful rays of the moon, the men dug themselves in and prepared to hold on, come what might. By midnight two battalions of the reserve had been brought up, and the Canadians had settled down to their desperate task. So fierce was the German curtain of fire that no food could reach the trenches for twenty-four hours, and then only bread and cheese. A company ofthe Buffs which attempted to bring relief was altogether destroyed.
The story of the Second Battle of Ypres is mainly the story of how the Canadian Division—outflanked, and outnumbered by four to one, stormed at with shot and shell by the heaviest artillery known to warfare, stupefied by poisonous vapours, unsupported by big guns, unaided by reinforcements, and short of food and water—fought through the day and through the night, and then through another day and night, losing heavily hour by hour, but enduring gloriously, and finally retiring with the proud knowledge that by its superb endurance it had saved the day.
When the French Colonials fled from their trenches, the enemy captured four British guns in the little wood which you see to the east of St. Julien. The teams were miles away, and the guns could not be carried off during the hurry and confusion of changing position. It was gall and wormwood to the Canadians to think these guns should be lost, and they were eager to recover them. Towards midnight, Colonel Leckie and Colonel Boyle led the Canadian Scottish (the 16th Battalion of the 3rd Brigade and the 10th Battalion of the 2nd Brigade) into the wood in a desperate endeavour to win back the guns. Let me tell you the story of this fine charge in the words of an officer who took part in it:—
"It wanted but a few minutes to midnight when we got to a hollow which was at most three hundred yards from the wood. The moon now reappeared at intervals, and we could have done without her. The shrapnel fire had completely ceased, and we had a second spell of a 'silence which could be felt.'"Whispered orders were given to fix bayonets, which were obeyed in a flash. Overcoats, packs, and even the officers' equipments were dropped, and we immediately advanced in light order."Scarcely had we reached a low ridge, in full view of the wood, when a perfect hail of fire was loosed on us from rifles and machine guns, which the Germans had placed in position behind the undergrowth skirting the wood."Instantly the word was given to charge, and on we rushed, cheering, yelling, shouting, straight for the foe. At first the Germans fired a little too high, and our losses until we came within fifty yards of them were comparatively small. Then some of our chaps began to drop; then the whole front line seemed to melt away, only to be instantly closed up again."Cheering and yelling all the time, we jumped over the bodies of the wounded and tore on. Of the Germans with the machine guns not one escaped, but those inside the wood stood up to us in a most dogged style. We were so quickly at work that those at the edge of the wood could not have got away in any case. Many threw up their hands, and we did not refuse quarter."Pressing on into the wood itself, the struggle became a dreadful hand-to-hand conflict; we fought in clumps and batches, and the living struggled over the bodies of the dead and dying. At the height of the conflict, while we were steadily driving the Germans before us, the moon burst out. The clashing bayonets flashed like quicksilver, and faces were lit up as by limelight."Sweeping on, we came upon lines of trenches which had been hastily thrown up and could not be stubbornly defended. Here all who resisted were bayoneted; those who yielded were sent to the rear."
"It wanted but a few minutes to midnight when we got to a hollow which was at most three hundred yards from the wood. The moon now reappeared at intervals, and we could have done without her. The shrapnel fire had completely ceased, and we had a second spell of a 'silence which could be felt.'
"Whispered orders were given to fix bayonets, which were obeyed in a flash. Overcoats, packs, and even the officers' equipments were dropped, and we immediately advanced in light order.
"Scarcely had we reached a low ridge, in full view of the wood, when a perfect hail of fire was loosed on us from rifles and machine guns, which the Germans had placed in position behind the undergrowth skirting the wood.
"Instantly the word was given to charge, and on we rushed, cheering, yelling, shouting, straight for the foe. At first the Germans fired a little too high, and our losses until we came within fifty yards of them were comparatively small. Then some of our chaps began to drop; then the whole front line seemed to melt away, only to be instantly closed up again.
"Cheering and yelling all the time, we jumped over the bodies of the wounded and tore on. Of the Germans with the machine guns not one escaped, but those inside the wood stood up to us in a most dogged style. We were so quickly at work that those at the edge of the wood could not have got away in any case. Many threw up their hands, and we did not refuse quarter.
"Pressing on into the wood itself, the struggle became a dreadful hand-to-hand conflict; we fought in clumps and batches, and the living struggled over the bodies of the dead and dying. At the height of the conflict, while we were steadily driving the Germans before us, the moon burst out. The clashing bayonets flashed like quicksilver, and faces were lit up as by limelight.
"Sweeping on, we came upon lines of trenches which had been hastily thrown up and could not be stubbornly defended. Here all who resisted were bayoneted; those who yielded were sent to the rear."
Another officer who took part in the attack described how the men about him fell under the fire of the machine guns, which, in his phrase, played upon them "like a watering-pot." He added quite simply, "I wrote my own life off." But neither he nor his men wavered. When one man fell another took his place, and with a final shout the two battalions flung themselves on the wood. The Germans were thrust back by the impetuous advance of the Canadians, who reached the far side of the wood and there entrenched themselves. They retook the guns, but were sorely disappointed to discover that the Germans had rendered them useless. They also captured a number of prisoners, including a colonel.
That night a terrible artillery fire swept the wood "as a tropical storm sweeps the leaves from a forest," and the Canadians fell back from the position which they had won at the price of many a brave life. All through the night the fighting went on without pause. The attacks constantly grew in strength, and it seemed hardly possible that the Canadians could resist much longer.
At six on the morning of Friday the enemy began an outflanking movement that looked very dangerous. In order to relieve the strain a counter-attack on the first line of German trenches was ordered. This was carried out by the Ontario 1st and 4th Battalions of the 1st Brigade, under General Mercer. The advance was made across 2,300 yards of open country, every yard of which was under hot shell fire.
"It is safe to say," writes Sir Max Aitken, the Canadian record officer, "that the youngest private in the ranks, as he set his teeth for the advance, knew the task in front of him, and the youngest subaltern knew all that rested on its success. It did not seem that any human being could live in the shower of shot and shell which began to play upon the advancing troops."They suffered terrible casualties. For a short time every other man seemed to fall, but the attack was pressed ever closer and closer. The 4th Canadian Battalion at one time came under a particularly withering fire. For a moment—not more—it wavered. Its most gallant commanding officer, Lieutenant-Colonel Birchall, carrying, after an old fashion, a light cane, coolly and cheerfully rallied his men, and at the very moment when his example had infected them, fell dead at the head of his battalion. With a hoarse cry of anger they sprang forward (for, indeed, they loved him) as if to avenge his death."The astonishing attack which followed, pushed home in the face of direct frontal fire, made in broad daylight, by battalions whose names should live for ever in the memories of soldiers, was carried to the first line of the German trenches. After a hand-to-hand struggle, the last German who resisted was bayoneted, and the trench was won."
"It is safe to say," writes Sir Max Aitken, the Canadian record officer, "that the youngest private in the ranks, as he set his teeth for the advance, knew the task in front of him, and the youngest subaltern knew all that rested on its success. It did not seem that any human being could live in the shower of shot and shell which began to play upon the advancing troops.
"They suffered terrible casualties. For a short time every other man seemed to fall, but the attack was pressed ever closer and closer. The 4th Canadian Battalion at one time came under a particularly withering fire. For a moment—not more—it wavered. Its most gallant commanding officer, Lieutenant-Colonel Birchall, carrying, after an old fashion, a light cane, coolly and cheerfully rallied his men, and at the very moment when his example had infected them, fell dead at the head of his battalion. With a hoarse cry of anger they sprang forward (for, indeed, they loved him) as if to avenge his death.
"The astonishing attack which followed, pushed home in the face of direct frontal fire, made in broad daylight, by battalions whose names should live for ever in the memories of soldiers, was carried to the first line of the German trenches. After a hand-to-hand struggle, the last German who resisted was bayoneted, and the trench was won."
The Canadian left was now safe. The German trench was occupied, and held against all comers in the teeth of every kind of deadly missile that could be hurled against it. It was still in the hands of the victors on Sunday, 25th April, when all that remained of the war-broken battalions was relieved.
At 4 a.m. on the morning of Friday, the 23rd, the Germans sent a great discharge of poison gas against the 2nd Brigade, which held the line running north-east, and upon the 3rd Brigade, which had continued the line up to the pivotal position and had then spread down in a south-easterly direction. In two minutes a cloud seven feet high rolled from the German trenches into those of the Canadians. The defenders had no respirators, but some of them wrapped wet handkerchiefs about their mouths, and thus obtained a little relief. They dared not retire, even if they had wished to do so, for the gas would follow them, and the exertion would cause them to draw deeper breaths of the deadly vapour. So, with blue, swollen faces and bloodshot eyes almost bursting from their sockets, they held on. Men went sick and giddy a thousand yards behind the line, and even the grass and trees grew white as the fumes passed over them.
Many of the men were struck down by the fumes, and the Royal Highlanders of Montreal, 13th Battalion, and the 48th Highlanders, 15th Battalion, specially suffered. For a short time the 48th were obliged to withdraw a short distance from their trench. Soon, however, they were their own men again, and they advanced and reoccupied their old position. The Germans, as you know, had long been striving to drive back the devoted 3rd Brigade, in order to sweep round and overwhelm its left wing. In the course of the attacks a large number of the enemy managed to slip in between the wood and St. Julien. For a time it seemed as though the Germans had succeeded, and that the last obstacle to their advance would be swept away. Not only the men of the 13th Battalion, but of every other battalion, fought like heroes to avert the danger. All that mortal men could do they did. Major Norsworthy, who had already been disabled by a bullet, was bayoneted and killed while rallying his men. Major M'Cuaig, who had been seriously wounded in a hastily-constructed trench, insisted on being left behind lest he should be a hindrance. So fierce and constant were the German attacks that orders were now given for the brigade to retire.
The men were very unwilling to withdraw, and they insisted, at great risk, on carrying with them their belongings. A wounded officer, following the example of Major M'Cuaig, refused to move, and asked his comrades to leave him alone in the trench. He begged them to give him two loaded Colt revolvers, and with these and his own weapon ready at hand, he prepared to sell his life dearly.
On Friday afternoon the left of the Canadian line was strengthened by the arrival of seven battalions of British troops. But the artillery fire of the enemy grew fiercer and fiercer, and it was clear that the Canadian salient could not be held against the fierce and constant attacks which were being launched against it; so, slowly and stubbornly contesting every yard of ground, the defenders fell back upon St. Julien, and then still farther south, until the deserted village was half a mile in front of their new lines. The Germans swarmed into the village, but before they could call it their own they had to reckon with detachments of the Royal Highlanders of Montreal and of the Royal Montreal Regiment, unavoidably left behind when the main body retired. What befell these devoted fellows in St. Julien we shall probably never know, but as the crack of their rifles did not cease for a long time, we may rest assured that they fought and died as worthy sons of Canada.
The success of the Germans in capturing St. Julien threatened a new and dangerous attack by the enemy. In order to check it a British brigade was ordered to advance. The thrust was made through the Canadian left and centre, and as the troops went forward, many of them going to certain death, they broke out into loud cheers for Canada. There was no man in the British army who was not filled with admiration for the Canadians that day. The advance was very costly, but it succeeded. For a time the Germans were checked.
Now let us see how the 2nd Brigade fared. At five o'clock on Thursday it was still holding the whole of its original line of trenches. Now that the 3rd Brigade had retired, General Curry, who was in command, had to do as General Turner had done—that is, throw back his left flank to protect his rear. It is the glory of the 2nd Brigade that they never lost their trenches. They hung on from Thursday at five o'clock until Sunday afternoon. Then there were no trenches left; they had been wiped out by the German shell fire. General Curry withdrew his unbroken and undefeated troops from the tumbled heaps of earth and sand-bags, but not before many a deed of heroism had been done.
At Grafenstafel, the extreme north-eastern point of the Ypres salient, the position was held by the 90th Winnipeg Rifles, under Lieutenant-Colonel Lipsett. His battalion had been driven from its trenches by gas early on Friday morning, but in three-quarters of an hour it had recovered itself and retaken its old quarters. When the 3rd Brigade retired, as described above, a gap was left, through which the Germans strove desperately to force their way. Had they done so they would have been in the rear of the 28th Division, and the whole eastern section would have been in perilous plight. Colonel Lipsett, however, held on to this key to Ypres, though his left was "in the air," and kept the Germans out of the gap until the arrival of two British regiments. It is said that Lieutenant Bellew, a machine-gun officer of the 7th, stuck a loaf on his bayonet and hoisted it upon the parapet in defiance, while he worked his gun. It was smashed to pieces, but he afterwards continued the fire with relays of rifles. On Sunday evening the 2nd Brigade was relieved for much-needed rest. The 3rd Brigade had been relieved on the previous night.
Monday morning broke bright and clear, but it was a day of terrible anxiety, and every man was needed in the firing line.
Monday morning broke bright and clear, but it was a day of terrible anxiety, and every man was needed in the firing line. So the 2nd Brigade, now less than a thousand strong, was ordered back. "The men are tired," said General Curry, "but they are ready and glad to go again to the trenches." They had to cross a zone of shell fire in daylight before they regained their old position, and this was no easy task for men who had lived through such shattering days. They held the trenches all day on Monday; on Tuesday they were withdrawn to reserve trenches, and on Wednesday were relieved, and retired to billets in the rear.
In this account of a great and glorious feat of arms I have confined myself to the work of the infantry. A word must be said as to the behaviour of the other units. The signallers proved themselves cool and resourceful. During the fierce bombardment the telegraph and telephone wires were constantly cut, and in carrying out the repairs many brave men lost their lives. The dispatch carriers, as usual, showed the utmost bravery. One of them, sore wounded, gasped out his message to a passing officer before swooning away. The artillery never flagged, and not a single Canadian gun was lost in the long and confused battle. On one occasion the gunners of a battery were compelled to swing two of their guns round, and to fire on the foe in front and in the rear at the same time. Canadian engineers and the medical corps also played a devoted part, and are entitled to share with their comrades of all arms in the glory of a great achievement.
So ended the great ordeal of the Canadians in the Second Battle of Ypres. When the story of their glorious courage and endurance was flashed across the sea, Britons everywhere throughout the wide Empire were thrilled with pride. Consider for a moment what they had done. They had stemmed the onrush of an enemy which outnumbered them by four to one, and they had done it in spite of the deadly poison gas that choked and blinded and stupefied them. They had no heavy artillery to assist them; they were without reinforcements; they were unceasingly assailed; they held on for days and nights of incessant struggle and anxiety; yet so undismayed were they that they could counter-attack with fiery courage. And when, after enduring such trials, they were called from a brief rest to re-enter the zone of death, they were glad to return. Sir John French confessed that "by their gallantry and determination they had undoubtedly saved the situation." While the British Empire can boast such men, its future and its fame are secure.
Messages of congratulation were showered upon the gallant fellows. Here is the King's message, which was sent to the Duke of Connaught as representing Canada:—
"Congratulate you most warmly on the splendid and gallant way in which the Canadian Division fought during the last few days north of Ypres. Sir John French says their conduct was magnificent. The Dominion will be justly proud.—George."
"Congratulate you most warmly on the splendid and gallant way in which the Canadian Division fought during the last few days north of Ypres. Sir John French says their conduct was magnificent. The Dominion will be justly proud.—George."
Great was the price of victory. Three battalion officers died—Colonel Birchall of the 4th, Colonel M'Harg of the 7th, and Colonel Boyle of the 10th. Only ten officers of the 5th Battalion survived; only five were left alive in the 7th, only seven in the 8th, and eight in the 10th. When the long fight was over the machine gunners of the 13th Battalion only mustered thirteen out of fifty-eight, and there was but a single survivor of those attached to the 7th Battalion. Up to 2nd May the Canadian Division had lost in killed, wounded, and missing 252 officers and 6,332 men. When the tale of losses was unfolded there were many bleeding hearts in Canada; but mingled with the grief there was a sorrowful pride, and even those who had lost their dearest and best were as resolute as ever to continue the struggle to a triumphant end.
"The graveyard of Canada in Flanders is large. It is very large. Those who lie there have left their mortal remains on alien soil. To Canada they have bequeathed their memories and their glory."
"On Fame's eternal camping-groundTheir silent tents are spread,And glory guards with solemn roundThe bivouac of the dead."
"On Fame's eternal camping-groundTheir silent tents are spread,And glory guards with solemn roundThe bivouac of the dead."
Ihave told you in the form of a continuous story how the Canadians saved the day. In doing so I have had to keep your attention fixed on that part of the British line extending from Grafenstafel to the little wood where the Canadians made their midnight charge in order to recover the lost guns. We have now to learn what took place on the left and right of the Canadian position, and to follow the fortunes of the long-drawn-out battle to its close.
You already know that when the poison gas rolled down on the French trenches and drove the panic-stricken Turcos in headlong flight, a great breach of four miles yawned in the Allied line. By swinging back their left the Canadians barred a portion of this gap, but only a portion. From the little wood on which their left rested to the line of the Yser Canal there was still an undefended gap of at least two and a half miles. Had the Germans been prompt they could have marched through this gap into Ypres, almost without firing a shot. Strange to say, they were slow in moving, and did not push their advantage. As in the First Battle of Ypres, they broke our line, but could do nothing in the breach.
Not until the small hours of Friday morning did the first British reinforcements arrive in the gap. They had been drawn chiefly from the 28th Division, which was holding the line from Grafenstafel to Polygon Wood. All the battalions that could be spared from the 28th Division were hurried across the salient, and it was a strange mixture of units that held the pass between the Canadian left and the canal. As the fighting proceeded, this force, which was commanded by Colonel Geddes, altered its character from day to day and almost from hour to hour. A grenade company of the Northumberland Fusiliers, consisting of two officers and 120 men, was added to it by accident. They had been fighting at Hill60, and had been eight days in the trenches. On the way back to join the 28th Division, to which they belonged, these grimy, weary, and hungry warriors fell in with Geddes's force, and promptly took their places in his firing line. That night they lived up to the fame of the old "Fighting Fifth."
By the morning of Friday the Germans had crossed the canal south of Steenstraate, and were threatening that village, which was held by the French. Allenby's three divisions of cavalry, along with two Indian divisions, were being hurried up with all speed to help the French, who were struggling on the west of the canal. Meanwhile all along the line from Polygon Wood to the canal the big guns of the enemy were heavily shelling our lines. The fighting, as we already know, was heaviest against the Canadian 3rd Brigade, which had suffered great losses both from gas and from artillery fire. There were gaps all along our front,and in one place the machine guns of the enemy were behind our trenches.
While the Canadians between the little wood and Grafenstafel were holding on, British battalions were being hurried up as rapidly as possible. You will see from the map on page208that the 13th Brigade filled the gap between the canal and the Pilkem road, and that they were supported by Territorials of the York and Durham Brigade, who had arrived in France only three days before. Between Geddes's detachment and the little wood lay the 10th Brigade, consisting of Territorials, the 1st Warwicks, 2nd Seaforths, 1st Irish Fusiliers, 2nd Dublin Fusiliers, and 7th Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders. The Durhams and the 1st Hants were holding the gap between the Canadians and the 28th Division. Such was the condition of the northern side of the salient on Saturday evening when the 3rd Canadian Brigade was retired. The Northumbrian Division took its place.
About 4.30 on Sunday morning the 10th Brigade and two battalions of the York and Durham Brigade made a great attempt to recapture St. Julien. The men reached the cottages at the end of the village, but were brought to a standstill by German machine guns. They lost very heavily in the advance, but for the rest of the day they hung on to the blood and gas stained position. Further east, at Grafenstafel, the Durhams were assailed by shells filled with gases that choked and stupefied them, and at two o'clock in the afternoon, before they could breathe freely again, the Germans charged down upon them. From two o'clock until seven the Durhams hurled back attack after attack, but as the evening wore on the pressure proved too great, and they were forced to retire with heavy losses to the little village of Fortuin. A similar attempt was made on the 28th Division, but without success. When night fell, our front was unbroken on the east as far north as Grafenstafel. That Sunday night, you will remember, the Canadian 2nd Brigade was retired only to be called up again the next day. Its place was taken by the Lahore Division of Indians.
Monday, 26th April, was a day of furious fighting and constant anxiety. The salient was greatly narrowed now, and our men were shelled on three sides. The Germans were making a curtain of fire behind our lines in order that no reinforcements could be brought up. Another fierce attack was made on the Durhams, who were compelled to fall back behind a little stream to the south of Fortuin, where they stood fast until the end of the day. Shortly after ten in the morning the Northumbrians and the Indians made another desperate attempt to recapture St. Julien. It fared ill. The Northumbrians were held up by wire, and were shot down in droves. The Brigadier was killed; 42 officers and some 1,900 men fell. Neither the Northumbrians nor the Indians could pierce the curtain of fire. The 40th Pathans, known in India as the "Forty Thieves," lost their colonel and nearly all their British officers. The famous 57th Wilde's Rifles made a most heroic advance, and though shells of all kinds fell thick and fast amongst them and their numbers were greatly reduced, the survivors managed to get within eighty yards of the German trenches, where they dug themselves in. When Captain Banks fell, his Sikh orderly, though weak from loss of blood, picked up his body and staggered with it to the rear until he fell exhausted.
The Germans now opened the nozzles of the gas tubes in front of their trenches and sent a cloud of poisonous vapour against the Indians. The wretched victims suffered horribly, and the survivors had to retire through the deadly gas amidst bursting shells and the incessant fire of machine guns and rifles. It was during this retirement that Jemadar Mir Dast won the Victoria Cross, as you will read later.
That night the northern side of the salient fell back. Fighting still went on; there were attacks and counter-attacks without number, and the Germans ceaselessly shelled our front. By this time there were many Territorial regiments holding the northern face of the salient, and right gallantly did they behave. The salient was now an oblong of so awkward a shape that the front had to be shortened. "The old Ypres salient was such a silly thing;" it had always been a danger, and now it was more perilous than ever. Accordingly, preparations were made to withdraw the whole line until the salient became an easy curve, with its outer line three miles from Ypres.
Before, however, this could be done, the Germans made another gas attack, both against the French on the Ypres Canal and against our troops lying behind Fortuin. The French were ready for it, and their 75's took a terrible toll of the enemy. Our men were also ready for it: they were now provided with respirators—not yet of the best pattern, but good enough to save them from the worst effects of the gas. The 12th Brigade suffered most, and was obliged to give way a little. The 2nd Seaforths and the 10th Brigade did not move at all. The Seaforths' doctor, Lieutenant Jones, behaved with wonderful courage; although badly "gassed," he stuck to his work for two whole days. One Territorial battalion—the 7th Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders—actually charged through the gas and captured a German trench.
Many other striking deeds of valour were done on that day. A huge shell fell into a trench held by the 1st Rifle Brigade and buried Captain Ralston alive. He was dug out only to be hit by the fragment of a shell, and by this time there were only three men left in the trench. Though shell after shell continued to drop into it, the four men still fought on until their rifles were too hot to hold. They snatched up the weapons of the dead and took the full cartridge clips from the bodies of the slain, and by so doing managed to keep up such a continuous fire that the Germans believed the trench to be held by a full company. Ralston and his men ran up and down the trench, stumbling over sand-bags, tripping over heaps of blown-in earth, and falling over their dead comrades. They fired first from one point and then from another, and in this way "bluffed" the Germans and held the trench until nightfall, when reinforcements came up. Three men and one officer had baffled swarms of Germans!
Later on we shall read how Private Lynn, of the 2nd Lancashire Fusiliers, won the Victoria Cross by keeping his gun in action while enveloped in the deadly gas. I could fill many pages with stories of men who did miracles of heroism during this awful time.
On 3rd May we shortened our line. The 12th Brigade at the pivot held fast. During the night, while picked riflemen from each company fired on the enemy, battalions were withdrawn piecemeal, in perfect order, and with no losses. You can form some idea of the skill with which this retirement was conducted when I tell you that in some places our trenches were within ten yards of those of the enemy. All the wounded, except a few who were too far gone to be moved, were safely carried to the rear, and in this merciful work the R.A.M.C. covered itself with glory. Long lines of stretcher-bearers bore the stricken men, swiftly and silently, from cellars and dug-outs, along the dark roads until they were out of danger from shell fire. Some 780 of them were thus carried into safety, and not one of them was lost.
Many of our men were reluctant to leave theirtrenches, especially those on which they had spent much time and labour. One man solemnly cleaned and swept his dug-out before saying good-bye to it. In one trench held by a score of picked shots belonging to the 2nd Cheshires, one man did not receive the order to retire. For a whole hour he remained and continued to fire—one man against the whole army of Wurtemberg! At last he discovered that he was alone, and then, and only then, did he follow his comrades. Not until the early morning of the 4th did the Germans know that we had retired. For hours before they had been busy shelling our empty trenches.
The map on page213shows you how the new line ran. You will notice that it was much easier to hold than the old salient, which had been hopelessly knocked out of shape. The Germans now began to batter at the new line, and especially at the portion between the pivot and the Ypres-Menin road. On the 8th they attacked furiously, and though some of our battalions fought almost to the last man, the centre was all but driven in. The 1st Welsh, however, refused to budge. They sent message after message back that they were holding a hot corner, but that they were very comfortable and could "stick it" as long as was necessary. No fewer than 900 shells were flung into the trenches of the 9th Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders, but the men did not yield a single inch. On that day they lost Colonel James Clark, their well-beloved leader, who in days of peace was Chairman of the Edinburgh School Board.
It was now time to withdraw the 28th Division. It had fought without a pause from 22nd April to 12th May, and had suffered almost as severely as the famous 7th Division at the First Battle of Ypres. Cavalry divisions took over its trenches, and the weary and much-battered survivors went into billets for greatly-needed rest. Still the fierce contest continued. The cavalry were terribly assailed, and on 13th May the artillery fire was so deadly that the 7th Brigade, lying to the north of the lake which you see on our eastern front, had to fall back, leaving an ugly rent in the line. Troops were hurried up to fill the gap, and at 2.30 the 8th Brigade, assisted by armoured motor cars, made a charge that will go down to history. The dismounted cavalrymen advanced as if on parade; they swept forward, utterly regardless of death, and won back the lost ground. But no soldiers that ever wore uniform could have held on to the position in face of the awful fire of the German guns. Our men did all that men could do, but they had to retire; and when the muster roll was read, the regiments which had taken part in this glorious but unavailing charge were found to be but shadows of their former strength.
The infantry on our left were also fiercely attacked, but they managed to hold their ground. The Territorial battalions on this part of our front fought like veterans. Sergeant Douglas Belcher, with six men, repeated the exploit of Captain Ralston, and nobly won the Victoria Cross for saving the flank of his division (see page218). The 2nd Essex cleared the Germans out of Shell-trap Farm at the point of the bayonet, and held on to the ruins all day. Like the Welsh, they were quite cheerful under their ordeal, and one of them swam to and fro across the moat carrying messages to headquarters.
The great battle was now ebbing away into a series of lesser engagements. As we shall learn later, the Allies had begun to make a big thrust near Festubert and towards Lens. The Germans had been obliged to send some of their heavy guns to the south, and the artillery fire on the Ypres salient consequently slackened. But before the battle ended the Germans made one more attempt—and this the most terrible of all—to shatter our lines. Again they used the foul weapon by which they had won ground at the outset of the struggle.
On the early morning of Monday, 24th May, when the sky was cloudless and a light north-easterly breeze was blowing, they released gas against our front from Shell-trap Farm to the lake. The wind carried the poisonous vapour towards the south-west, and it rolled over nearly five miles of our trenches in a cloud which in some places was forty feet high. For four and a half hours the gas surged towards us. Where our men were quick to don their respirators, they were able to hold their ground; but where there was delay, they suffered horribly. After the gas came a violent bombardment from three points of the compass, and in various places our line was pushed in until three dangerous salients appeared. British steadfastness, however, prevailed. Except in two places, our lines remained intact. The 9th Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders, the 2nd Royal Irish, and the 9th Lancers lost very heavily. Amongst those who fell was Captain Francis Grenfell, who had already won the Victoria Cross for a splendid deed of pluck and coolness, which I described on page 88 of our second volume.
The Second Battle of Ypres was over. It was not so full of danger to us as the first battle, but it will be ever memorable because, for the first time in the warfare of civilized men, a foul and deadly weapon had been used. You must have noticed, in reading these pages, how the Germans relied on machinery to overcome us. High-explosive shells and poison gas—these were the weapons which they believed would give them victory. During the Second Battle of Ypres the German infantry made few serious attacks, and when they did so they were almost destroyed to a man. Cannot you imagine the anguish of our brave fellows assailed by gas and shell fire and unable to reach their foes? Many of them, goaded to madness, stood up on their parapets and challenged the enemy to come on. Some of the Germans accepted the challenge; our men cheered, and then swept them to earth. It was the Second Battle of Ypres which taught us how inferior we were to the Germans in machinery, and our bitter experience had much to do with the formation of the National Government and the setting up of a Ministry of Munitions.
We lost ground in front of Ypres, and we lost tens of thousands of gallant men; but we had something to be proud of when the end came. We knew that our soldiers, man for man, were superior to the Germans, and we were specially proud of our Territorials—not only of the Canadians, but of the miners of South Wales and North England, the hinds and tradesmen of the Scottish Lowlands, the shepherds and gamekeepers of the Highlands, the clerks and tradesmen of our great cities. A few short months ago they had been working in the mine, the field, the factory, the shop, and the office, never dreaming that they would be called on to ply rifle and bayonet in a life-and-death struggle for all that they held dear. But in front of Ypres they bore themselves as though war had ever been their business, and they fought and died with a heroism that must never be forgotten. They went down into the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and some of them came out of it silent, weary, sick at heart; but no man of them felt his faith falter, and all were determined that never, while God gave them the strength to pull a trigger, should the foul foe prevail.
The beautiful little city of Ypres, famous as far back as the days of Chaucer, and adorned with old-time buildings that were the gift of the ages to the modern world, was now a heap of ruins. German guns had shattered it beyond repair. It resembled a city destroyed by an earthquake—a rubbish heap, with here and there a few gaping walls and shot-rent towers brooding over the desolation like gaunt skeletons. Never while our Empire endures—and God grant that it may be for aye—can Ypres and the blood-sodden meadows that lie eastward of the city be anything but holy ground to the British people. For ever the city and its neighbourhood will be sacred to the memory of our glorious British dead.
Seven Victoria Crosses were awarded for remarkable feats of courage and devotion during the great series of struggles known as the Second Battle of Ypres. You will not, I am sure, make the mistake of supposing that this little list comprises the names of all who wrought deeds of glorious valour during those days and nights of combat. Hundreds of men who received no mention proved themselves worthy of the honour, and many of those who were awarded less notable decorations fell no whit short of those who carried off the palm. According to custom, I shall now give you some account of those on whom the highest of all military honours was conferred.
Lance-Corporal Frederick Fisher, 13th Canadian Battalion.
You already know that the Second Battle of Ypres was largely Canada's battle. It is therefore fitting that the first three heroes in our roll of glory should be Canadians. On 23rd April 1915, in the neighbourhood of St. Julien, Lance-Corporal Frederick Fisher, who was in charge of a machine gun, went forward under heavy fire and most gallantly assisted in covering the retreat of a battery. Four of his crew were killed, but as soon as he had made up the number, he went forward to the firing line and engaged the enemy once more. While bringing his gun into action in order to cover the advance of supports, he was shot down and killed. Canadian boys and girls will have a warm place in their hearts for the hero who thus nobly fought and fell.
Colour-Sergeant Frederick William Hall, 8th Canadian Battalion.
On 24th April, in the neighbourhood of Ypres, Company Sergeant-Major Hall heard a wounded man, who was lying some fifteen yards in front of his trench, call out for help. A heavy enfilading fire was at that time raking the trench. Nevertheless, two men climbed over the parapet and strove to reach him. Both were shot down in the attempt, and it was feared that the wounded man could not be brought in. Seeing this, Sergeant-Major Hall went to the rescue. He reached the wounded man, and was just lifting him up when a bullet pierced his brain and he fell dead. Sergeant-Major Hall died the most glorious death that a man can die—he gave his life for a comrade.
Captain Francis Alexander Caron Scrimger, Canadian Army Medical Service, 14th Battalion, Royal Montreal Regiment.
On the afternoon of 25th April, Captain Scrimger was in charge of an advanced dressing-station which had been established in some farm buildings near Ypres. While he was attending to the wounded, the enemy heavily shelled the farm, and it was clear that all his patients would soon be killed. Despite the heavy fire, Captain Scrimger directed the work of removing the wounded to a place of greater safety, and himself carried out of a blazing stable an officer who had been badly hit. When he could carry the officer no farther he remained with him while the shells were bursting all around, and did not leave him until help arrived. Nor was this the only gallant deed to Captain Scrimger's credit. From 22nd to 25th April he was unwearied in well-doing, and never relaxed his attentions to the wounded, night or day.
Jemadar Mir Dast, I.O.M., attached to 57th Wilde's Rifles (Frontier Force).
On page209I referred to the splendid courage and coolness of this hero, who was the fourth Indian soldier to win the Victoria Cross. You will remember that Wilde's Rifles made a heroic advance to within eighty yards of the German trenches at St. Julien, and that the survivors of the charge dug themselves in and maintained their position until dislodged by gas. Jemadar Mir Dast remained behind, and, undaunted by the ceaseless fire that was poured upon him, collected all the men he could find, amongst them many who were slowly recovering from the effects of the gas. He kept them under his command until they were ordered to retire. As he led them to the rear he picked up many men in the old trenches and brought them in. Later in the day, while exposed to very heavy fire, and himself wounded, he assisted in carrying eight British and Indian officers into safety. He was afterwards promoted Subahdar.[37]
Acting-Corporal Issy Smith, 1st Battalion, Manchester Regiment.
On 26th April, near Ypres, Corporal Issy Smith saw a severely wounded man lying far in front of his trench. Without waiting for orders, he clambered over the parapet, and while machine-gun and rifle bullets whizzed around him, pushed forward for some two hundred and fifty yards. He hoisted his wounded comrade on his back, and succeeded in returning safely with his charge to the trench. Later on he went out again and again to rescue the wounded, and showed the most fearless courage in ministering to them under fire.
Corporal Issy Smith also received from the Tsar the Order of St. George, the Russian equivalent to our Victoria Cross. He was a Jew, and when he returned to London the Jewish body gave him a great welcome. His fellow-members of the Berner Street School Old Boys' Club presented him with a gold watch suitably inscribed. After receiving it Corporal Smith assured his "pals" that he had only done his duty, and said that any other man would have done the same.
Private John Lynn, 2nd Battalion, Lancashire Fusiliers.
When the Germans were advancing behind their waves of poison gas, Private Lynn, though almost overcome by the deadly fumes, rushed to his machine gun without waiting to put on his respirator. Single-handed he kept his gun in action all the time the gas was rolling over the trench. When he could no longer see his foes, he moved his gun higher up the parapet, and poured such a stream of lead into the advancing Germans that they were completely checked. The gallant fellow, now gasping and choking from the effects of the gas, was carried to his dug-out; but when he learnt that the enemy was coming on again, he tried to get back to his gun. Twenty-four hours later he died—a victim to gas-poisoning. "That Lancashire lad," says a writer, "died a hundred deaths. He knew his risk—saw the fume-bank rolling towards him, yet fought on in the hideous fog, resolute still, though in the clutch of a terrible fate."
Lance-Sergeant Douglas Walter Belcher, 1/5th (City of London) Battalion, the London Regiment (London Rifle Brigade).
Lance-Sergeant Belcher was the second Territorial to receive the Victoria Cross. Early on the morning of 13th May he was in charge of an advanced breastwork, which guarded the flank of one of our divisions somewhere to the south-west of Fortuin. The Germans fiercely bombarded this breastwork, and blew it in. Nevertheless, Lance-Sergeant Belcher and ten men remained amidst the ruins of their position and sent back to their comrades who had retired the following message: "We're holding on, whatever happens." Belcher and his handful of "die hards" kept a close watch on the enemy, and as soon as they saw parties of Germans massing for an attack, opened a rapid and skilful fire on them. Time after time the parties were dispersed, and the Germans came to the conclusion that a whole company was opposing them. By means of this heroic "bluff" a large force was kept at bay for thirteen hours, and the flank of the line was saved. Lance-Sergeant Belcher was afterwards promoted second lieutenant.