CHAPTER X

Between the Battle of Arras in the Spring and the Battle of Cambrai in the Autumn came the Third Battle of Ypres in the Summer. This middle battle in time (with which, in the history of the West Riding, we shall not be much concerned) was the northernmost battle in space, and its success, if it had been fully successful, would have been amphibious in kind. It would have rendered untenable by Germany the sea-bases of her submarine campaign, thus relieving the food-problem for the Allies, and it would have removed the military peril, fought out to a standstill in 1915, which threatened Paris and the Channel ports. On this account, as we saw in the last Chapter, the northernmost battle of the three was originally the chief in significance according to Sir Douglas Haig’s plans. If we may regard the long Allied line, say, from Reims to the sea, throughout, and even beyond, the fighting season of 1917, as the scene of a single battle, we must add that the course of that battle did not follow Sir Douglas Haig’s wishes. We read above of a ‘revised’ scheme, of ‘restricted’ preparations for the attack in Flanders, and we infer (indeed, we are informed) that, if Haig had been in sole Command of the Allied Forces on the Western front, he would have disposed the programme a little differently. Happily, it is not our business to judge the strategy of the war. Our task is to narrate the part which was played by a few thousand Yorkshiremen in bringing the war to a victorious close. Strategy was not in their contract: the Colonel obeyed his Brigadier, the General his Corps Commander; and even in a larger sphere, Sir Douglas Haig was less than supreme. In the triple battle of 1917 many factors entered into account. To burn out the submarine nests, to countervail Italy’s fate of arms, to anticipate Russia’s defection, to release French industry and railways: these were a few of the considerations which affected the movements of the Allied Armies between Verdun and Ypres, the two flagstaffs of French and British ardour. That they were, primarily, political considerations does not mean that they were wrongly brought into account. Always the strategical initiative, as distinct from the tactical, lies partly outside the control of the fighting men. But there was worse than this in the series of conditions which determined the fighting of 1917. The sequence of battle-areas (Arras, Ypres, Cambrai) might be dictated by causes which prevailed over the best-laid plans; the course of the battles themselves, especially of the Summer-battle about Ypres, was dictated by less calculable chances. Among these were the ‘pill-boxes’ and the mud, the solid and the fluid conditions. When to break off that last battle was almost more difficult a problem than whento engage it; and if its commencement was postponed by causes outside Haig’s control, we can read between the lines of his Fourth Dispatch the hesitation with which he carried it on:

‘After weighing these considerations, as well as the general situation and various other factors affecting the problem, among them the desirability of assisting our Allies in the operations to be carried out by them on the 23rd October in the neighbourhood of Malmaison, I decided to continue the offensive further....‘Though the condition of the ground continued to deteriorate, the weather after this was unsettled rather than persistently wet, and progress had not become impossible. I accordingly decided to press on while circumstances still permitted....‘By this time the persistent continuation of wet weather had left no further room for hope....[84]’

‘Though the condition of the ground continued to deteriorate, the weather after this was unsettled rather than persistently wet, and progress had not become impossible. I accordingly decided to press on while circumstances still permitted....

‘By this time the persistent continuation of wet weather had left no further room for hope....[84]’

it would be unnecessary to complete this final sentence, except that it closes with the definite statement, that, ‘in view of other projects which I had in view, it was desirable to maintain pressure on the Flanders front for a few weeks longer.’ Once more, we are not required to judge, but, at least, we may note the implication that, even when there was ‘no further room for hope’ (surely, a grave obstacle to progress) it was still necessary to ‘maintain pressure for a few weeks longer.’

The West Yorkshire troops did not come in till close to the end of this middle battle, and we shall presently be more fully concerned with the ‘other projects’ elsewhere. But we can imagine what it meant to those spent and battle-weary soldiers to ‘maintain pressure’ beyond the hope of progress. ‘Physical exhaustion,’ we read, ‘placed narrow limits on the depth to which each advance could be pushed’; and how far those limits should be forced was a matter of very difficult discretion. ‘Time after time,’ runs the Despatch, ‘the practically beaten enemy was enabled to re-organize and relieve his men, and to bring up reinforcements behind the sea of mud which constituted his main protection’; and at what point a ‘practically beaten’ enemy should be left behind his barrier of mud was, again, very hard to decide. Hard and difficult decisions for the High Command; but the hardship and the difficulty of the fighting fell heavily on the fighting men, and the Summer-battle of 1917, which was prolonged far beyond the Summer, entailed, as Sir Douglas Haig tells us, ‘almost superhuman exertions on the part of the troops of all arms and services.[85]’ The great Commander chose his word well. If the triple battle of 1917 were to be fought out again, with all the conditions constant exceptthose which strategists could vary, there would be, conceivably, a new time-table and a new distribution of effort at Arras, Passchendaele and Cambrai: there would still be the ‘superhuman’ effort to overcome the German advantage of irregular, murderous blockhouses, like Martello-towers sunk in a sea of mud, and of not less irregular rain.

We come to closer quarters with this middle battle. It opened on June 7th with an explosion of nineteen mines, which caused enormous rents in the enemy front-line trenches, and which effectively assisted the Artillery and the Air Force in their preparations for the Infantry advance. Impressive from a spectacular point of view, it was no sudden thing, this explosion. It represented many months of patient labour by highly-skilled miners and engineers, the memory of whose devotion to duty, under conditions of constant horror, should help, in industrial times, to soften acerbities at home. It was, further, the great surprise of the attack. British enterprise had to burrow underground in order to escape the observation of an enemy, who, since 1915, when the Ypres salient was inevitably contracted,[86]had occupied all the commanding ground in a stretch of country where 60 feet was the measure of a mountain. Messines, Wytschaete and Oostaverne were all captured on that first day (June 7th), together with more than 7,000 prisoners and 450 pieces of Artillery. General Sir Herbert Plumer and the Second Army, who had acted as wardens of these marches through so many weary and exacting months, reaped a swift reward in the second week of June.

Unfortunately, it did not end as it began. The obliteration of two Battalions on the Yser between Nieuport and the sea on July 10th belongs to the history of the Northamptons and the King’s Royal Rifles, whose heroic defence of a position cut off from succour or support is Homeric in its quality.[87]Canadian historians will tell the tale of the capture of Hill 70 from the Prussian Guard, and of the long struggles in the outskirts of Lens. The season was still young, however; the initial operations had been successful, and the results achieved in June encouraged Sir Douglas Haig to extend the area of his attack right along the ridges and their spurs from Messines to Houlthulst Forest. These movements started on the last day of July, with the Fifth Army under General Sir Hubert Gough and the Second under General Sir Herbert Plumer.

Slowly, resolutely, painfully, a way was forced up the difficult slopes. After twenty days a big advance could be recorded, but the going had been hard and expensive, and already the pace began to tell. The halt called in mid-August by exhaustion was employed for further preparation, and a month later, when the full attack was re-commenced, the highest points were still in enemy hands. It was now the middle of September: battle had been joined in the first week of June, butGlencorse Wood and Inverness Copse and a series of minor positions had still to be won, in order to render Passchendaele untenable and so to complete the capture of the ridges. The programme, we see, was out of gear; the price paid was out of proportion to the gains. The battle-fury surged up and down in gusts and lulls, and ebb and flow, shaped less to a regular advance than to a series of shocks and withdrawals, with the battle-mark always a little higher, but, behind it, in an ascending scale, loss of life, and devastated country, rain and ruin, and desperate endeavour. Was it worth while? was one urgent question. How long could it be kept up? was another.

Every Battalion of the 49th Division was engaged: the West Ridings, the King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry, the York and Lancasters, and the West Yorkshires, and at last they reached the top of the main ridge. The date was October 9th-10th, and the 49th was moved to the attack with the 66th Division on their right and the 48th on their left. The St. Julien road lay behind them, Passchendaele was a mile or two ahead. Three stout Infantry Brigades, eager to crown the Summer’s struggle, took part in the front of the operation: the 146th in the centre, the 148th on the right, and the 144th (48th Division) on the left. The 147th was the Reserve Brigade. The centre Battalion of the centre Brigade was the 1/7th West Yorkshires; they found the 1/5th of the same Regiment on their right, and the 1/8th on their left: the 1/6th was their Reserve Battalion. The heavy casualties in these two days’ fighting made exact information hard to collect: in three Companies of the middle Battalion all the Officers and senior N.C.O.s had been permanently or temporarily disabled, and as early as 7-30 on the first morning (October 9th) the Reserve (147th) Brigade was ordered to be ready at an hour’s notice. In these circumstances, an hour to hour narrative could not be accurately compiled. The details were too much confused. Touch was lost between Companies and between Battalions, and one Officer’s summary of a part must stand for the record of the whole: ‘The Brigade (the 146th) reached its first objective, but was unable to proceed further.’ Still, an advance was made on these two days, which count among the worst experiences on the Western front, and the Troops very thoroughly merited the congratulations of the Corps Commander, Sir Alexander Godley, on their achievement ‘under the extremely adverse conditions.’

The congratulations were renewed a few days later (October 18th) when Major-General Perceval, C.B., took leave of the 49th Division, which, despite the ‘adverse conditions’ and the ‘almost superhuman exertions,’ which we have read of, he had commanded so gallantly and with so much hope. We are told that, at the Brigade Parade, he appeared to feel the parting very keenly, and we know how warmly his regret was reciprocated by the whole Division. He had succeeded to the Command in 1915, when General Baldock wasinjured by a shell,[88]and he had led the 49th Division in the Battles of the Ancre and the Somme, culminating in the capture of Thiepval, during 1916.[89]He was succeeded now by Major-General Neville J. G. Cameron, C.B., C.M.G. (1916), of the Cameron Highlanders, who had served on the Nile and in South Africa, and whose proud privilege it became, as an Infantryman, to command a Territorial Infantry Division till the end of the war.

We return from this personal note, arising out of the change of Command, to the intense struggle outside Houlthulst Forest. It was renewed three times in October, a bloody October for the 49th Division, as for the British Army as a whole, and, at last, on the last day of that month, the British line had been carried, foot by foot, till within about 300 yards of the contested village of Passchendaele. One more week of effort was demanded of the Troops exhausted by four months’ bloodshed, and the final assault was delivered on November 6th, when the village fell to the Canadians. In the course of four days’ further fighting the last crests of the ridges were secured, and the long Third Battle of Ypres was definitely terminated.

Who had won it? Counting July 31st as the first day of that phase of the Third Battle, it had cost the Germans over 24,000 prisoners. They had lost positions from Messines to Passchendaele, roughly, on a front of twelve miles, the value of which, small in area, had been recognized as cardinal in three great battles in three years. Because they had lost the positions, we may conclude that they had lost the Third Battle, as they had lost the First (1914) and had been stalemated in the Second (1915). But this conclusion does not contradict another, that Sir Douglas Haig had not won. He had not won the victory which he sought. If we compare the close with the opening of this long and brilliant Despatch (‘the Campaigns of 1917’), we see clearly by how much he had contracted his original bold design, and how grievously his large hopes had been disappointed by extraneous events. ‘The general conditions of the struggle this year,’ he recorded, ‘have been very different from those contemplated at the conference of Allied Commanders held in November, 1916. The great general and simultaneous offensive then agreed on did not materialize.’ We turn back to the plans at that Conference, so far as the British Commanderreveals them.[90]They ‘comprised a series of offensives on all fronts, so timed as to assist each other by depriving the enemy of power of weakening any one of his fronts in order to reinforce another.’ The Arras battle was not to be pursued beyond its first objective: ‘it was my intention to transfer my main offensive to another part of my front.... I hoped, after completing my spring offensive further south, to be able to develop this Flanders attack without great delay, and to strike hard in the north before the enemy realized that the attack in the south would not be pressed further.’ But it ‘did not materialize,’ as has been said. The task of the British and French Armies had proved far heavier than was originally anticipated, and, on the other hand, the enemy’s means of resistance had proved ‘far greater than either he or we could have expected.’ We shall see in a later chapter how these disappointments imposed a change from the offensive to the defensive in the renewed campaign of 1918. Here we observe that, to this extent, the Summer battle of 1917, protracted almost too long for the endurance even of British soldiery, could not be counted victorious. Nor was the final outlook better, when the results on a wider front were added to those of the Third Battle of Ypres. On no front had we suffered defeat; on none, as German reports prove, was the enemy free from anxiety or confident of military success. But our great efforts were frustrated by outside causes: military opinion is hardening to the conviction that the Western battles of 1917 worked out, on a balance, to our disadvantage, and the dark shadow of the Russian Empire in solution fell across the concluding pages of the British Field Marshal’s Fourth Despatch.

While the 49th Division was struggling up the northern ridges, the 62nd was spending a brief and busy interval between the Battle of Arras in the Spring and the Battle of Cambrai in the Autumn.

Not an hour of that interval was wasted. The noise of the guns was never ceasing; and it is especially interesting to observe how admirably the Divisional Training, set on foot at once between the battles, fitted the daily calls which were to be made on all units of the Division.

But first, for the sake of its pleasant reading, and as a proof that merit found reward, take Lord Harewood’s statement to the West Riding Association in October, 1917, of the Honours awarded to their Troops. The 62nd had figured in an Honours List as early as the previous April, and there had been a good sprinkling from its units in June. Now, every unit had been fighting, and every unit had won distinction. Thus, we met Lieut.-Colonel Hastings at Bullecourt,and we read here of his well-merited D.S.O., and of as many as sixteen Military Medals awarded to gallant men in his Battalion. In point of fact, the Honours which were awarded were far fewer than the Honours which were deserved; and, confining ourselves to figures only, since it is not seemly to select names[91], we observe that, out of fourteen Military Crosses which fell to the 62nd Division, four went to subaltern Officers in a single Battalion of the West Ridings. In the 49th Division, there were twenty-four awards of the Military Cross; four men received Bars to their Military Medals; and there were over a hundred fresh Military Medals and other decorations. Many mothers and maids in the West Riding had cause to be proud of their sons and lovers.

So much in this place for the past fighting. Meanwhile, let us follow one unit of the 62nd to its interval of rest between the fights. Here, too, we need not particularize. We noted at the end of the last chapter how quickly sport succeeded war, and in all units alike, at Achiet-le-Petit and elsewhere, the typical Battalion Sports Officer would ‘get a move on’ very quickly. We may imagine the kind of man he was; say, a subaltern Officer with a wound-stripe, perhaps recently rejoined, and wearing, no doubt, the ribbons of a Military Cross and a Croix-de-Guerre. We may imagine, too, the shell-pocked field, which, in order to exercise his men, he would set himself to convert into a football ground, with its holes neatly patched and darned, and its goal posts and other appurtenances requisitioned as urgently as ammunition. Or take the signal example of the great crater-coliseum,[92]on which a whole Battalion had been set at work, and which was ingeniously constructed to accommodate about two thousand spectators. It was chiefly used for boxing contests, and the R.E. took a hand in erecting its 18-foot ring. The next step was to find and train the teams, and special mention is due to the middleweight champion of the 62nd Division, Company Sgt.-Major Schofield, D.C.M., of the 2/5th West Ridings, whose fight with Pte. Hayhurst, of the 2/6th Duke of Wellington’s, filled the Coliseum one fine day. They were not too particular about the seasons. When the weather was hot, they played cricket; when it was not, they played football, and an inter-Brigade Summer football match resulted in the victory of a team composed of the R.E. and R.A.M.C.; the 2/4th West Ridings being second, and the 2/5th West Ridings third. Later, a Divisional Cup was competed for at Beaulencourt, and was won by the 2/5th West Ridings, who beat the R.E. and R.A.M.C. by the handsome score of six goals to one.

The old saying about the playing-fields at Eton and the Battle of Waterloo recurs to memory as we write. The preparation for war in sport was illustrated again and again. Three times in the courseof this Summer, a certain Company out of a Battalion of the 62nd was stationed in a position known as the Apex, which had formed part of the Hindenburg Line, south-south-west of Riencourt. The first occasion was towards the end of June, and the Company Officers found cause to bless the foresight of the authorities who had organized so many forms of sport. Take their excellent shooting, for example. A party of the enemy, about six in number, had been observed on the sky-line walking in single file on the top of a communication-trench. The range was, approximately, 1,200 yards. Six men were sent out in a good lying position, and the sights were harmonized between 1,000 and 1,400 yards. After the third round, we are told, the enemy rapidly dispersed, and contracted their sphere of activity. Or, take the raid on the Apex on September 13th, which was shown by prisoners’ testimony to have been carefully rehearsed by a considerable enemy force of Storm-Troops, Infantry, and others, under orders to destroy all dug-outs near the Apex and to inflict as much damage as possible on our garrison. The attack fell on the 2/6th West Yorkshires, and was very gallantly repulsed; chiefly by the courage and determination of Captain G. C. Turner, who was killed, and of L.-Sergt. W. Pearson (No. 241038), who lived just long enough for General Braithwaite to recommend him for the award of the D.C.M. It was a typical ‘No surrender’ exploit, and merits special recognition. Or, another incident at the Apex back in August. On this occasion a private soldier distinguished himself, and was awarded the M.M., in a voluntary patrol to clear up an obscure position. In full daylight he went, unaccompanied, up a gulley some 35 to 40 yards, and located an enemy party. He reported the position to his Officer, who dealt with it successfully the same night by the aid of some rifle-grenadiers. It was the same private, by the way, the crack shot in his own crack company, who brought down some partridges in September, within a few yards of the enemy posts. Either for the game or for other causes, the men of this Company became so keen on patrol work at the Apex, that they petitioned for a double tour duty and stayed out eight consecutive nights. Insignificant details, perhaps, but good shooting and keen soldiership won the war; and the Division thoroughly earned the compliments of the Commander-in-Chief and Army Commander on their exploits during this period, which showed ‘skill and enterprise.’

They were as good at salving as at sniping. The tale is told of a Platoon near Bullecourt, which had become liable to a complaint that Salvage orders were being neglected. The complaint was quickly set to rights, and within a very short time a remarkable collection was accumulated outside Company Headquarters. A derelict Tank had been found hidden fast in high undergrowth, and as many as seven Lewis guns and some forty magazines in more or less bad condition were brought to join the Battalion dump. By the side ofanother Tank the bodies were identified of four men of the Royal Warwicks, and, as the Yorkshiremen themselves had once been engaged in the same sector, they began an organized search, which resulted in at least forty casualties being transferred from ‘missing’ to ‘killed.’

So, the pause between the battles were filled up. With raids and counter-raids, and martial exercises, and military sports, and play imitating work, the exhaustion after Bullecourt was repaired, and the spirit of Bullecourt was renewed. Field-work on the open fighting system completed the training at Beaulencourt where a move was made into hutments in October, and it is noted that the shooting was so much improved that one Platoon, at the end of its intensive practice, scored a total of 405 out of 450 points in a ‘mad minute’ competition. Early in November, a new Brigadier was appointed to the 186th Brigade in succession to Brig.-General Hill, whose gallantry and leadership had won him the affection of all ranks, when the limits of age compelled his retirement. The veteran’s place was taken by a very junior Officer, R. B. Bradford, V.C., who fell in action at the end of the same month, and whose name may stand, on the eve of the Autumn fighting, to typify thepersonnelof the Division, certain units of which we have visited here and there in the training period between Arras and Cambrai. Roland Boys Bradford was born in 1892; he joined the Durham Light Infantry in 1912, and went out to the war two years afterwards. Thus, his chance came early in life, and he made the fullest use of every phase of it. His promotion was as rapid as his valour was remarkable. He won the M.C. and the V.C. (1916), and was several times mentioned in Despatches, and accounts agree that this youthful Brigadier, when he reached that military rank at the early age of twenty-five, was a soldier of very brilliant promise. He died young, according to civil standards, but he achieved a fine professional record under exacting conditions of active service; and General Braithwaite’s 62nd Division was fortunate, in November, 1917, in possessing, on the Cambrai front, Brigadiers so thoroughly conversant with their duties and so fully qualified to lead their men as General Viscount Hampden, commanding the 185th, General Taylor, commanding the 187th, and General Bradford, commanding the 186th, whose swift death is the just pretext for this brief excursus.

We reach now the final stage of the campaign, which had been planned with such hopeful anticipations at the November conference just a year before.

There are several ways of regarding the Battle of Cambrai. We may look at it through big, strategic spectacles, as a means, opportune, but timely, of engaging and distracting German Forces which might otherwise have been sent to Italy. This view is not withoutauthority, and it is stated with his usual lucidity by Mr. Buchan in his popular narrative:

‘Italy, fighting desperately on the Piave, deserved by all the laws of war some relief in the shape of an Allied diversion. Weary as his troops might be, Sir Douglas Haig was not able to grant them the rest which they had earned and most urgently required.’[93]

It is not within our province to strike a balance between this assumption of ‘all the laws of war’ and the degree of weariness of Sir Douglas Haig’s troops.

Again, we may look at this battle through the narrower spectacles of a tactician. It was designed in the nature of a surprise. It was unexpected in time and place, and it brought into operation a new weapon in the form of a mass attack of Tanks in lieu of Artillery preparation. In this aspect the Battle was victorious: it evoked von der Marwitz’s Order to the German Second Army (November 29th):

‘The English, by throwing into the fight countless Tanks on November 20th,gained a victorynear Cambrai. Their intention was to break through; but they did not succeed, thanks to the brilliant resistance of our troops. We are now going to turn their embryonic victory into a defeat by an encircling counter-attack. The Fatherland is watching you, and expects every man to do his duty.’

Once more, we shall not attempt to strike a balance. We gained a victory, according to this Order, but it was embryonic and not a success. At the same time, we know that things were serious when the Fatherland was said to be watching.

A third way of looking at this battle, and the way best suited to our present purpose, is to regard it as a very gallant enterprise, worthy of the finest traditions of the British Army, and not less worthy because a large part of its hardest demands fell on Territorial Troops. They might muffle the joy-bells in England when the full story of the battle was revealed, but at least they had rung them spontaneously in recognition of a brilliant feat of arms, and the bells still peal in celebration of the dash and heroism of British soldiers.

We turn back for a moment to the sketch onpage 116, especially to A B C, the road from Albert through Bapaume to Cambrai. The British line has swallowed up the eleven miles (A B), where the fighting was so intense in 1916, and it struck now (November 20th) across that road at a point just east of Boursies, about half-way between Bapaume and Cambrai. Thence it forged right into the triangle, of which Arras is the apex, leaving Quéant in German occupation on the east, and Bullecourt in British on the west, to the northerly country where we have been adjourning. Turning next to the position before us, we see what advantage would accrue from a deeper biteon the same road. Not primarily to capture Cambrai, though this, too, might enter calculation, but to roll up the British forces from below the road in such a way as to threaten Cambrai and to disturb the German Winter dispositions, was a hazard worth the stake in late November. Roughly, the scheme of the attack was to push out between Boursies and Gonnelieu in a north north-easterly direction, lapping up the strong positions like a flame, and to spread in a converging semi-circle up to the main road (Bapaume-Cambrai) and beyond.

The troops at Sir Julian Byng’s disposal[94]were, first, a fleet of four hundred Tanks, commanded by General Hugh Elles; next, the following six Infantry Divisions: the 36th (Ulster), 62nd (West Riding), 51st (Highland), the 6th, 20th and 12th; next, four Cavalry Divisions; and, finally, three more Infantry Divisions (3rd, 16th and 29th), of which the 29th, of Gallipoli fame, was actively engaged. It will be seen that the 62nd had a place of honour in the attack, and it was allotted the task of capturing Havrincourt, the strong point of the enemy’s line. This task required all the powers the Troops could bring: unfaltering leadership, indomitable mettle, and untiring endurance. The methods and needs of the attack had been the subject of constant discussion since the original scheme of operations had been laid before Divisional Commanders at a conference on October 31st. The 51st and 62nd Divisions had been trained close to one another in order to facilitate co-operation, and the preparation of Artillery positions, begun on November 4th, was carried out night and day till the 19th. No detail was too small to engage the personal attention of the Officers in charge of the operation, various features of which were modified from day to day in accordance with practical experience.

On the night of November 17th-18th, the two leading Brigades of the 62nd Division took up their battle front; the 185th on the right, and the 187th on the left. Detachments of the 36th Division were kept in the outpost line, so as to avoid any chance of the enemy spotting the relief; and, though he rushed one of these posts, and captured two men of the 36th, he was not made aware of the date or time of the attack, or of the fact that Tanks were to be used. These lumbered off from the advanced Tankodrome at the south-west corner of Havrincourt Wood, and reached their lying-up places by midnight on Y Z night, November 19th-20th. The pace of the Tanks was calculated, after practical experience, at a hundred yards in five minutes, and the Artillery barrage and Infantry advance were regulated accordingly. The two leading Infantry Brigades were to attack on a two-Battalion front, preceded by twenty-two Tanks. The remaining two Battalionsof each Brigade, preceded by eight Tanks, were to leap-frog through the leading Battalions, picking up all surviving Tanks on their way.

Second only, if second, to the Tanks in novelty and effectiveness was the new, great weapon of surprise, perfected by the lessons of a hundred mistakes. We may quote the evidence of a contemporary Battalion diarist, who ascribed the initial success, first, to the Tanks (‘these dealt extremely effectively with the enemy wire, which was very formidable in places’), and, secondly, to secrecy (‘even in the marches up to the line the destination of the Battalion for that night was not made known to anybody below the rank of an Officer. That this policy paid well may be judged from the fact that the enemy was obviously taken completely by surprise’). This record, taken from the account of the 2/4th York and Lancasters, is repeated in almost every diary. In order to keep the secret, very elaborate precautions had been taken. Aerial photographers were deceived by marches on the off-side of roads. Lorries going northward carried lights, lorries going southward carried none. No fires were allowed. There was no preliminary bombardment, and, as indicated above, no one in the Division knew the destination of the Division. Zero hour on November 20th was 6-20 a.m., and at 6-20, on that foggy morning, the first intimation to the Germans of the 62nd Division’s attack was the sight of a sheet of flame from every gun, and of heavy Tanks looming through the mist. No wonder, that the first bound of the eager Infantry started with conspicuous success, and was attended by comparatively few casualties.

That first bound of the Infantry was to carry them to Havrincourt and Flesquières, and Havrincourt, as we saw, was to be the prize of General Braithwaite’s Troops. We shall come to the fighting in a moment. Here let us straightway say that the Division acquitted itself brilliantly. Sir Douglas Haig, in his Despatch, expressly used this rare epithet. ‘The 62nd (West Riding) Division (T.), (Major-General W. P. Braithwaite),’ he wrote, ‘stormed Havrincourt, where ... parties of the enemy held out for a time,’ and ‘operating northwards from Havrincourt, made important progress. Having carried the Hindenburg Reserve Line north of that village, it rapidly continued its attack, and captured Graincourt, where two anti-Tank guns were destroyed by the Tanks accompanying our Infantry. Before nightfall, Infantry and Cavalry had entered Anneux, though the enemy’s resistance in this village does not appear to have been entirely overcome till the following morning’ (November 21st). ‘This attack of the 62nd Division,’ added the great Field Marshal, ‘constitutes abrilliant achievementin which the troops concerned completed an advance of four and a half miles from their original front, over-running two German systems of defence, and gaining possession of three villages.[95]’As a fact, their advance on that day, the third Tuesday in November, covered a distance further in actual mileage than any other of Sir Julian Byng’s Divisions; further, indeed, than any Division of the British Army had advanced in one day under like conditions since war was engaged in the Western Front. Starting from a point just below the big bend of the Canal du Nord, they took Havrincourt by assault (which meant, among other factors, (1) secrecy, (2) Tanks and, as we show below, (3) Infantry-rush) pushed straight forward to Graincourt, and reached and occupied Anneux, at the edge of our B C road, and opposite the south side of Bourlon Wood: over 7,000 yards, as a crow flies, and a wholly exceptional day’s march for soldiers fighting every foothold.

We have drawn attention to the secrecy and the Tanks. ‘The measure of further success,’ so ran an order of the day, ‘is entirely dependent on the speed with which the operation is carried out. Every minute is of importance.... Once the enemy is on the run, every man must put forth his utmost efforts to press on and to prevent his rallying.’ Here, again, the 7,000 yards of the 62nd Division bear witness to exemplary team-work in training for this Infantry-rush both in the period of Divisional rest and of intensive preparation. One more detail may be set down in this place. At the Dinner of the 62nd Division, held at Leeds on September 9th, 1919, when Major-General Sir James K. Trotter took the Chair, General Braithwaite, on leave from his Command in Cologne, announced that a site for a Divisional Battle Memorial had been sought and courteously granted in Havrincourt Park—an announcement which, as we shall see, derived additional force and appropriateness from the further record of the Division at Havrincourt in the victorious advance of 1918.

Meanwhile, still on that first day, when the Tanks went crashing through the fog, the Highlanders (51st Division) were repeating against Flesquières on the right, the ‘bound’ of the 62nd against Havrincourt. Its capture was reported about 11 a.m., but two hours later authentic news arrived, that, though the troops were holding the front trench of the Hindenburg Support Line in front of the village, machine-gun and rifle fire had broken the assault; a large number of Tanks had been put out of action; the Support Line and Flesquières itself were still in enemy hands. This retardation of the programme affected immediately the advance of the 186th Infantry Brigade (Graincourt). Its right wing was dangerously exposed; and the two Field Artillery Brigades to the east of Havrincourt, deprived of the hope of Cavalry assistance, were also left hanging. Still, the Infantry pressed on. The results achieved were too good and too promising to be sacrificed to a risk which might eventuate either way, and it would at least be practicable to call a halt on the Graincourt-Cambrai road till the position at Flesquières was clearer. This plan was exactly carried out, and shortly after 5-30 that afternoon the186th Brigade had captured Graincourt, and was resting (or at any rate not advancing from) a line north of the Cambrai road.

HAVRINCOURT: CANAL DU NORD BRIDGE.HAVRINCOURT: IN THE PARK.

HAVRINCOURT: CANAL DU NORD BRIDGE.

HAVRINCOURT: IN THE PARK.

We shall come back to the epic battle of November 20th. Passing now to November 21st, the objective of the Division on the second day was the high ground west of Bourlon and Bourlon Wood. The gallant 186th Brigade was entrusted with this attack, and all available surviving Tanks were put at their disposal. One Regiment of Cavalry was attached to the Division, and Zero hour was fixed at 10-0 a.m. It had been hoped to push forward the Artillery during the night of 20th-21st, but the rain which had been falling since the afternoon interfered with this programme. However, despite the opposing mud, all four Artillery Brigades were in action between Havrincourt and Graincourt early in the afternoon of the 21st. The night of the 20th had passed quietly. About 8 o’clock the next morning, the 51st (Highland) Division had completed their capture of Flesquières, and were advancing on to the Marcoing-Graincourt Road. Prisoners’ tales reported that Bourlon Wood (the 62nd’s objective) was held by the 32nd and 224th Brandenburghers, indicating that a Reserve Division had been brought up by the enemy. It was time to get on, and punctually at Zero-hour the 186th Infantry Brigade, with the 185th in close support and the 187th in reserve, were started on their way, while the Artillery bombarded Bourlon village and put a smoke barrage on Tadpole Copse. Eighteen Tanks in all was the number of available survivors, but, owing to trouble with petrol-supply, etc., not all of these were ready to time, and some delay ensued in the execution of the operation.

Before estimating the results of the severe fighting in which the Brigade was involved, one or two facts may be stated as to the participation of some of its units.

The 2/4th West Ridings were detailed to capture Anneux and Anneux Chapel. The village, though strongly held by Infantry and Machine-Guns, duly fell to their splendid efforts, but further advance was stopped at the edge of Bourlon Wood. The Company detailed to take the Chapel performed skilful work with heavy casualties, and, after making good their advance to the edge of the wood, and capturing at least 300 prisoners, were withdrawn shortly before dark to the sunken road.

The 2/5th and the 2/7th West Ridings were badly handicapped for lack of Tanks. Instead of the frontal attack which had been intended, the uncut wire compelled them to have recourse to an attack by bombs, with consequent loss of impetus. A single Tank, which arrived in the afternoon, was utilized to the utmost of its capacity. The 2/6th Battalion, which was to have been kept in Brigade reserve, and to have been used for the capture of Bourlon Village as soon as the leading Battalions had reached their objectives, had to be employed to reinforce the assault and to fill up gaps in the line. Similarly,the Cavalry were dismounted in the later hours of the afternoon, and helped to complete the line held in front of Anneux by the 2/4th West Ridings.

Though Moeuvres and Anneux (inclusive) had been captured, and were held, it was evident that Bourlon Village would not be taken that day. Orders were issued, accordingly, to relieve the 186th Infantry Brigade in their present positions, and their relief by the 185th was duly carried out that evening.

The general situation on the night of November 21st was somewhat vague, and next day, though the Division was to have been relieved during the night of the 21st/22nd by the 40th Division, it was decided to make one more effort to capture the ridge west of Bourlon Wood, which overlooked all the ground west and south of Graincourt. They tried, and struggled, and tried again, but, despite much desperate fighting, no capture ensued, and, owing to the enemy’s counter-attack and the consequent disorganization, the attempt had to be abandoned. On the same day, the 51st Division took and lost Fontaine. In the night, the relief of the 62nd was duly effected by the 40th.

We break off here for a moment to set down one or two of the gallant deeds which were done in the three days’ battle. And, first, we should quote in full the special Order of the Day, which General Braithwaite, Commanding the Division, published on November 24th, the first full day of the relief. The Divisional Commander, it stands written,

‘has the honour to announce that the Commander-in-Chief and the Army Commander have expressed their high appreciation of the achievement of the 62nd Division in the battle.‘The Divisional Commander had the most implicit confidence that the Division would acquit itself with honour.‘To have advanced 7,000 yards on the first day, taken all objectives, held them against counter-attacks and handed over all gains intact to the relieving Division is a feat of arms of which any Division may be justly proud.‘The number of prisoners taken is not far short of 2,000. Thirty-seven guns have been captured, which include two 8-inch Howitzers, one complete Battery of 4·2, one complete Battery of 5·9, and the remainder, guns of various calibres, many of which were brought into action against the enemy.‘The number of Machine-Guns, Granatenwerfer, etc., etc., which have fallen into our possession is so considerable that it has not been possible yet to make an accurate tally of them.‘The advance of the Artillery to Graincourt, and the accuracy of the barrage, is worthy of the best traditions of the Royal Regiment. To C Battalion, the Tanks, all ranks of the Division express their admiration of the skill, bravery and the splendid self-sacrifice which made success possible.‘The discipline, valour and steadiness of all ranks has been beyond praise.‘It is with great and legitimate pride that I have the honour to sign my name as Commander of the 62nd (West Riding) Division.’

‘has the honour to announce that the Commander-in-Chief and the Army Commander have expressed their high appreciation of the achievement of the 62nd Division in the battle.

‘The Divisional Commander had the most implicit confidence that the Division would acquit itself with honour.

‘To have advanced 7,000 yards on the first day, taken all objectives, held them against counter-attacks and handed over all gains intact to the relieving Division is a feat of arms of which any Division may be justly proud.

‘The number of prisoners taken is not far short of 2,000. Thirty-seven guns have been captured, which include two 8-inch Howitzers, one complete Battery of 4·2, one complete Battery of 5·9, and the remainder, guns of various calibres, many of which were brought into action against the enemy.

‘The number of Machine-Guns, Granatenwerfer, etc., etc., which have fallen into our possession is so considerable that it has not been possible yet to make an accurate tally of them.

‘The advance of the Artillery to Graincourt, and the accuracy of the barrage, is worthy of the best traditions of the Royal Regiment. To C Battalion, the Tanks, all ranks of the Division express their admiration of the skill, bravery and the splendid self-sacrifice which made success possible.

‘The discipline, valour and steadiness of all ranks has been beyond praise.

‘It is with great and legitimate pride that I have the honour to sign my name as Commander of the 62nd (West Riding) Division.’

November 24th, 1917—the years that have elapsed and that will elapse since General Braithwaite signed this Order cannot diminish its praise. The glowing words breathe and live; they survive theneiges d’antanwhich cover his gallant men’s graves between the Bapaume road and the Canal de l’Escaut.

Here, too, is the place to mention the visit on November 22nd of Sir Douglas Haig himself to the Headquarters of the 62nd Division (a visit preceded the day before by the dispatch of an A.D.C. by the Commander-in-Chief), in order personally to congratulate General Braithwaite, and to tell him to let the Division know how splendidly, in his opinion, they had acquitted themselves.

Or take the record here and there (it can be but a casual selection) of the acts which won these praises in the three days’ battle which we are reviewing. It was at the very beginning of the battle, early in the morning of November 20th, that the 2/5th Battalion of the West Riding Regiment, going forward in column of route to try to get through the gaps in the wire in front of Havrincourt, lost Lt.-Col. T. A. D. Best, D.S.O., their Commanding Officer, described by the General at his graveside as ‘one of the finest soldiers and the most perfect gentlemen he had had under his command.’

The same Battalion, if we may follow it a little further, continued its advance on the first day to a point on the further (north) side of the Bapaume-Cambrai road, where it succeeded in establishing touch with the 36th Division on the Canal bank. This attack was a ‘record at the time for depth in one day’s advance, the Battalion going about 7,000 yards from the old British Front Line to the final objective for the day.’ Its captures for the day included more than 350 prisoners, fifteen Machine-Guns and a Trench Mortar, and the total casualties in the Battalion were three Officers and ten other Ranks killed, one Officer and fifty-five other Ranks wounded, and four men missing. Its honours included two appointments to the Distinguished Service Order, in the persons of Captains Goodall and C. S. Moxon; and next day, November 21st, when Major F. Brook was appointed by the G.O.C. to the Command of the Battalion, in consideration of his gallant conduct and brilliant leading after the death of Colonel Best, Captain (Temporary Major) Goodall, Senior Company Commander, became second in command.

Records similar to the above might be lifted out of the Diary of each and every Battalion engaged on those days. Our selection of a single example will have sufficed to typify the spirit which animated all units in all ranks; and when we turn from the exploitsof a Battalion to the exploits of individuals, the same tale of courage is repeated.

Take, for instance, the following record of an exploit by two young Officers: it is regarded by the Divisional Commander as one of the most remarkable during the battle. In the 187th Brigade, the G.O.C., Brigadier-General Taylor, in his determination to be prepared for all eventualities, had impressed upon his Officers the necessity of pushing forward at Zero hour, whether or not the Tanks had arrived. This meant that the Infantry must know their way, and, consequently, during Y Z night, two Officers of the 2/5th King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry crept out between midnight and dawn to reconnoitre the route. They actually succeeded in creeping up to the enemy’s wire, and marked out the route which they would have to follow, if the Tanks were late the next morning, by placing tapes to guide them. It was well that they did so, for the unexpected happened. The Tanks, which were to lead the Battalion, were delayed; and it was due to the initiative and enterprise of these two gallant Officers,[96]that the Battalion was able to start without the advance-guard of Tanks, and to march straight to their first objective, which they captured at the point of the bayonet.

Take, again, seven exploits in the ranks, each of which won a Military Medal. We select them as typical acts, in the various arms of the Service; and, though the extracts from the records are accurate, we shall not identify them by names, since many pages of this narrative could be filled with similar accounts. In each instance, the date of the exploit is November 20th or 21st, and they all redound to the credit of the 62nd Division.

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