CHAPTER IV
ARMENTIÈRES UP TO GAS ATTACK
On April 19th we received orders to reconnoitre the Boutillerie sector, held by the 2/5th King's Own Royal Lancaster Regiment, with a view to early relief; and the Commanding Officer, Adjutant, and Company Commanders proceeded the same day to Foray House, the "King's Own" Headquarters. This sector was a combination of the old Boutillerie trenches, held by us in February, and the trenches on our immediate right. There had been several British and enemy raids since then, and the damage caused had been considerable. The difficulty of maintaining 2,800 yards of front in a decent state of repair throughout its whole length had further impaired the condition of the trenches, and we were not surprised to find serious signs of decay on every hand. Our first experience, moreover, of walking quite considerable distances—i.e., several hundred yards—without finding a trace of the defenders proved very instructive, and showed us what to expect for the future. The next day (April 20th, 1917) these orders were cancelled, and we were now informed that on the 26th we were to take over the Houplines sector in front of Armentières from the Australians. We set out once more on a tour of exploration. We rode to the Australian Brigade Headquarters in the Rue Jesuit, and thence on foot along the Houplines road to Tissage Dump, where the trenches began.
Those who now saw Armentières for the first time might well be impressed by the feeling of desolation which prevailed. The silent, shuttered houses, the empty streets, the ruins and the débris were familiar from the villages which had been already visited, but nowhere hitherto had the picture been on so large a scale as here. Armentières had been a bright and busy town before the war, with a population of some 30,000 people. Large spinning factories, fine houses and handsome shops abounded. Many of the streets, it is true, still contained quite a number of inhabitants; but as you made your way down the Rue Jesuit towards the line, fewer and fewer grew the signs of any civil population, and more and more battered became the houses. It is a long walk to Tissage Dump. On the left you soon passed Barbed-Wire Square, then quite a pleasant grass-grown square with young trees just beginning to bud. In the far corner a wonderful green and blue tiled house had apparently been the residence of a lady fortune-teller. The next landmark was the level-crossing, beside which a huge church bell was suspended on a wooden frame to give warning against gas. The road a little farther on swung round first to the right, past some very dilapidated workmen's cottages of a curious blue tint; and then to the left, where stood L'Octroi d'Houplines, the familiar little wooden erection to be found on the outskirts of every French town. This had been hit by a shell; it was a corner of ill repute, and the board bearing its title hung at an acute angle, being only supported by a fastening at one end. On the left of the road, next to the factory belonging to an English firm, stood Von Kluck's house, alleged to have been once the Headquarters of that famous General, and now used as the A.D.S., which for many months escaped a direct hit, while neighbouring houses were all but obliterated. A strip of open country followed; on the left, a wilderness of ruins and marshland, with a glimpse of 18-pounders cleverly concealed; on the right, loop-holed screening with a considerable view of the country beyond.
Nouvel Houplines (often thought to be Houplines itself, which was close to the river) consisted of two main streets forming an acute angle. At the junction stood Tissage Dump, where R.E. material for the line was stored. In the adjoining houses were a pioneer workshop, an observation post, the canteen, and the regimental aid post. The trench tram line (a continuation of the ordinary tram line from Armentières) divided here, one line running up alongside Gloucester Avenue to the trenches, the other following round to Durham Castle and other dumps. Several tall factory chimneys were grouped about this spot, all used as observation posts, and rejoicing in colonial names difficult to pronounce. Most of them bore signs of shell fire, one having been pierced right through close to its base, another having a large piece taken right out of its side.
The entrance to Gloucester Avenue—or "Gloster Ave," as the signboard called it—was really very picturesque, the trench descending gradually below ground level through what had once been a garden. On either side was abundant foliage, which later became prettily covered with flowers and presented a picture that might well have been the setting for the opening scene of "The Arcadians."
We began our walk up Gloucester Avenue, noting the trench running off to Spain Avenue, another fine communication trench. The way was up a gradual incline. At the top a network of narrow trenches appeared, and through these we made our way into the subsidiary line to Battalion Headquarters, a group of "bivvies" and short trenches entered under a small overhead traverse. On the immediate left stood a small elephant back, which combined the dual functions of mess and Adjutant's office, and opposite this was the cook-house. To the left was a double concrete dug-out, where "Signals" dwelt, and up a little short trench a minute concrete "bivvy" for the Commanding Officer.
In the mess we found the Commanding Officer of the 38th Battalion A.I.F. awaiting us, and he explained that our present place of rest was the old right Battalion Headquarters, while the left was in more commodious but less conveniently situated quarters in the spacious cellars of Cambridge House, some way along the subsidiary line. Half the Australians' Headquarters lived in one place and half in the other, and, though the two were connected by telephone, the disadvantages of the separation were obvious.
The Company Commanders now proceeded to their respective areas, while the Commanding Officer and Adjutant took a general survey of the line under the guidance of the Australian Colonel. The first impression was certainly most unfavourable. The principle of gaps and localities was maintained here, and constant shell fire, combined with lack of any means of repair, gave the sector a most dilapidated and depressing appearance, which was intensified by a great superfluity of water and a number of useless and derelict trenches running in all directions. Lateral communication, too, as so often happens in a combined sector, was extremely bad. After lunch at Cambridge House, the Commanding Officer and Adjutant proceeded on a tour of the left sector. This was notoriously the weak point, the left being bounded by the River Lys, which in winter rendered an area of several hundred yards along the bank quite impassable, though in summer this same area was perfectly passable, and to a large extent undefended. From the support line an excellent view could be obtained, the ground falling steeply away from there to a flat stretch called the Cricket Field, and then sloping upwards to a raised plateau on which Frelinghien stood, and on the hither side of which was built our front line. The sector, we found, was full of notices warning you that the spot you stood on was under direct observation from the Germans, which caused you to move round the traverses with alacrity. Most of these notices, we found, were obsolete, but on the left company's front, parts of the front line were certainly exposed, and till these spots were blinded casualties occurred from snipers. Generally speaking, the line appeared fairly quiet that afternoon, only intermittent shelling of a very desultory nature occurring. To our disgust, however, we learnt that gas cylinders were installed along practically the whole length of the front line, and the absence of heavy shelling was accordingly noted with some pleasure.
The relief took place on March 26th, the Lewis gunners entering the line the previous evening, and, in addition, one signaller per station, two battalion runners, all snipers, of whom one N.C.O. and three men were to take over the observation post, and one officer and one N.C.O. per platoon. On the morning of the 26th the Sniping Officer and Sergeant, the Medical Officer's orderly, the Bombing Officer and Corporal, all Company Sergeant-Majors, the Regimental Sergeant-Major, and two runners, together with the balance of the signallers under the Signalling Officer, made their way up to the trenches. This was the usual advance party for a new sector, and the arrangement undoubtedly quickened the relief, while in addition increased knowledge of a sector was acquired from the extra length of time spent with members of the outgoing unit.
Guides were to meet the companies at Houplines Level Crossing, commencing at 7 p.m. The following were the dispositions and routes: "D" Company, right front sector viâ Spain Avenue; "C" Company, right centre viâ Gloucester Avenue; "B" Company, up Durham and Edmeads Avenue to left centre; while "A" Company went up Durham and along the subsidiary line to Irish Avenue and thence to left sector. Each company was responsible for its own supports and reserves, the latter consisting usually of a few cooks and ration carriers. Headquarters were accommodated in "bivvies" in the subsidiary line round Battalion Headquarters, and a few details at Cambridge House. The relief was completed at 11.40 p.m., and the Australians moved off for a rest and training preliminary to the Battle of Messines. They were a very cheery crowd and extremely obliging, and rendered the relief a very agreeable task. The code word was dispatched by telephone to Brigade, and we commenced our first tour in a sector that we were destined to occupy, turn and turn about with the 2/7th K.L.R., for four and a half months.
As the period was such a long one, a more detailed description may be attempted than has been thought necessary in regard to other sectors held from time to time by the battalion. There were three main communication trenches leading into the line, all previously referred to. Spain and Gloucester Avenues, both starting from Tissage Dump, cut the subsidiary line on the right and right centre respectively. Durham Avenue started from Nouvel Houplines a few yards from Tissage Dump and to the north of it, and joined the subsidiary line close to Cambridge House. There was also the road from Nouvel Houplines to Frelinghien which ran past the north end of the subsidiary and support lines, but was under observation by day and unhealthy by night. On the extreme right, and just beyond our boundary, was Buterne Avenue, a deep traversed trench over which we had a right of way. It wandered about distressingly, and eventually ended in a small side street near Barbed Wire Square. Farther to the right and well on into the Epinette sector was Lunatic Lane, which eventually became an open track and led into the outskirts of Armentières by the Asylum.
The subsidiary line was marked on the right by a large civilian cemetery, through which the trench passed. It was full of graves with wooden crosses and artificial flowers such as are usually to be found in a French burial-ground. From there to the Battalion Headquarters the trench was traversed, but there was little parados. "Bivvies" of small breadth and height abounded, and there were one or two concrete dug-outs, usually full of water. A ditch, with a railing in front of it, marked the approach to Battalion Headquarters, after which the trench narrowed into two small alley-ways where Gloucester Avenue joined the subsidiary line, and thence ran down steeply to a road from Nouvel Houplines to Quesnoy. Here the tram line crossed the subsidiary line and ran across country to the right company front. The open road was masked by a big screen. At this point the subsidiary line was built on a somewhat higher level, and contained big bays and long traverses, protected in rear by a parados, behind which was a traffic trench, in which a number of "bivvies" had been constructed.
Continuing your course, you came to Wessex Avenue, the finest communication trench in the sector, though but little used. The line now became a long, straight trench with a high parapet, with duck-boards along the side of the bank and also at the bottom. Beside the lower track was a green ditch. At the end of this stretch was a bridge across the Panama Canal, which ran back in a south-easterly direction to the support line in the right company sector. In design it was merely a deep drain, but it was duck-boarded and a handy short-cut diagonally across the sector. It was seldom used in daylight, in the hope, which was probably justified, that the enemy would regard it merely as a drain. Durham, Edmeads, and Sussex Avenues all met at this point; and a few yards in the rear stood Cambridge House. The last part of the line was full of "bivvies," and just before the end, Irish Avenue, the left-hand communication trench of the sector, led off to the front line. At the end the ground fell away steeply to some marshland beside the banks of the Lys. The only other means of communication with the front line, except the communication trenches above mentioned and a few overland tracks, was the road which ran from the junction of Wessex Avenue and the subsidiary line to Edmeads Farm. This was only passable at night, but it was an excellent short-cut, though subject to bursts of machine-gun fire and "whizz-bangs."
The description of the trenches forward of the subsidiary line is a far more formidable undertaking. We will commence with the right, as being the simplest and also, generally speaking, the most healthy. The subsidiary line was followed to the right almost as far as the cemetery. Just before reaching it a communication trench was found leading off (if you were lucky and knew the way) to the left under an overhead traverse, and guarded by a sentry. The latter in the early days informed you, in a bored fashion, that the wind was dangerous or the reverse, and criticized your box-respirator if not in the alert position. Following the trench in its windings for a short distance, Vancouver Avenue branched off to the left. This was only half finished, though you could with much floundering get through it to Gloucester Avenue; in reality, however, it was quite useless. A hundred yards or so farther on you suddenly came on a corrugated iron sentry-box, with a small weather-cock and a shell case suspended from a stick beside it, where the gas sentry over the right company Headquarters was stationed. Here in an open space you found two or three log huts of small dimensions, with one or two orthodox "bivvies." You then passed over a bridge, and, ducking your head to avoid a sheet of corrugated iron, under which cooking operations were usually going on, you entered a low edifice, which was lighted, it may be mentioned, with two small windows of real glass. Here you might find O.C. "D" Company sitting at the table, endeavouring to compose one of the innumerable reports that the higher powers delighted to collect. Two or three bunks adorned the walls; and a form on either side of the table, a Véry pistol, a tin of cigarettes, some recent pamphlets, and odd pieces of officers' equipment, made up the furniture. You could stand up more or less erect, and the place was really quite comfortable, but hardly shell-proof.
Beyond Company Headquarters the communication trench showed the strongest inclination to close in. It was extremely narrow, and but for the overhead struts would very soon have become impassable. Newburn Lane led off to the left, certainly more of a lane than a trench, through which you could reach the Orchard, a regular target for German gunners, and a place to be avoided at certain times of the day. Farther down the communication trench was a slit on the left where Light Trench Mortar Battery men lived. Just below here the trench suddenly came to an end, and you crossed a little stream running along a diminutive valley. The tram line also came in sight, wandering away along an old road through tangled bushes and weeds to the front line. It was badly smashed in places, and was never used as far forward as this. The trench began again up the far side of the tiny valley—London Road, as it was now called—and here stood two graves marking the resting-place of two unknown soldiers. The going was sticky and the trench much battered. Later on grass and green things generally were conspicuous on either side of the trench, but now everything looked bare and muddy—just yellow clay, shell-holes, mud banks, and trenches more or less derelict. Suddenly you heard voices, and without quite realizing it you found you were in the front line.
A broad breastwork formed the means of defence, occasional bays being held, but the majority being unoccupied and full of loose barbed wire. Everything betokened the effects of shell fire where men were too few to do more than just repair their own particular posts. Derelict "bivvies," odd broken duck-boards half covered with slime, sheets of corrugated iron riddled with holes, bits of old ground sheets, and fragments of equipment, lay about in all directions. Everything presented that damp, yellow aspect peculiar to clay soil. The traverses, sodden with water, were bursting down the hurdles or wire netting with which they were revetted, while the empty bays were falling in of their own accord, or presented a crushed and crumbling appearance, the result of the direct burst of a shell or "minnie."
As you rounded the traverse of an occupied bay the following picture met your eye. Imagine a narrow trench about 12 feet long by 4 feet wide, with a fire-step running along the entire length some 12 inches from the ground. Near the centre of the trench stands a rifleman in skeleton equipment, gazing into the bottom mirror of a box periscope which is fastened by a spike to the parapet, its top covered by dirty canvas to match the surrounding sand-bags. By the sentry's side is a rifle, and close at hand are the empty shell-case gong and strombos horn, in case of gas. Next to him sits his relief, similarly attired, all men invariably wearing equipment in the front line. The relief sentry is passing the time in cleaning some clips of ammunition from an open small-arms ammunition box. The corporal and two men are filling sand-bags, which will be required at dusk. Another rifleman sits at the far end, sleeping peacefully and dreaming of something (we hope) remote from the war. He was the last sentry. Two boxes let into the parados contain Véry lights and bombs; the Véry pistol hangs from a peg in the parapet. Five rifles with swords fixed stand in a row against the side of the trench; while a shelf holds some mess-tin lids, two water-bottles, some bread, and a tin of bully beef. Two sand-bags for salvage and rubbish hang at the end of the bay. Round the corner two "bivvies"—mere hovels about three foot high, wet and slimy—complete the "home comforts" of this cheerful abode. From one of the "bivvies" protrude two pairs of muddy boots and four legs covered with clay-stained puttees. Their owners are enjoying a well-earned rest, having spent most of the night prowling about in No Man's Land.
Taking the next communication trench, Gloucester Avenue, we could make our way up to the front line to a point not far distant from the top of London Road; or, better still, we could branch off along Pretoria to the right-centre company's support line. Gloucester Avenue was a good winding trench cut through what had once been cornfields. Pretoria was even better, and brought you out close to the point where the Panama Canal joined the support line. By the end of the canal were two deep concrete dug-outs, both small and damp, and in one of these the signallers and in the other the Company Commander were to be found. In the latter, as you carefully descended the steps, you would have been able at once to recognize, not only from the orderly appearance of the spot, but from the number of parcels from Fortnum and Mason, that Captain Eccles dwelt there; and, sure enough, there he was, looking as if he had just stepped out of a band-box, with Company Sergeant-Major Heyworth sitting by his side working at the company card index.
After making your way along the support line round interminable traverses, you squeezed your way up Timaru to the front line. Thence you went along past Wessex Avenue, which requires no further description, to the end of Locality 12. From here a path led up to the support line—Gap "M" being impassable—and from the support line by another path to the left centre company's front line—quite a decent stretch of bays and traverses with a wilderness of ruined trenches in their rear. Half-way along this sector you turned up a miserable ruin of a trench to Captain Steward's Headquarters, a concrete dug-out set like an oasis in a desert of derelict trenches. In spite of the neighbourhood, Captain Steward would appear perfectly groomed and with a cheerful smile, though denouncing the Germans for making him so uncomfortable. Another dug-out adjoining was used by his subalterns.
To visit the left sector it was now necessary to go right down Edmeads Avenue and then up Sussex Avenue, whence you could go to Hobbs Farm along Cambridge or along Fusilier Avenue to Captain Wyatt's Headquarters at Goodwood. The latter was another of these concrete dug-outs, and the owner, whether Captain Wyatt or any other Company Commander, generally had some severe remarks to make about the enemy, who gave the left sector but little rest. To reach "A" Company's front line you went along the support line to Irish Avenue, which from there back to the subsidiary line was good enough, but forward of the support line was hardly better than a track, and, except for some canvas, pretty well exposed to view from all points of the enemy front line. The whole of the left front line, in fact, from Edmeads Farm past Hobbs Farm, the ruins of which had almost been obliterated, was a maze of battered and derelict trenches, only entered by the inquisitive or by some luckless individual who had lost his way. The left company front was built into the side of a small ridge, and possessed no general parados, though most of the posts were self-contained. It ended some two or three hundred yards from the Lys, though from the enemy point of view it probably appeared to go much farther. It was very much knocked about, and it was hard work to maintain even a semblance of respectability.
Such is a brief outline of the Houplines sector. Its main features were its size, its maze of useless and ruined trenches, and its lack of lateral communication. There was not a single dug-out that would have stood the direct hit of a 5·9, and only a few that one would have cared to be in when hit by a "whizz-bang."
The day after relief (April 27th) was spent quietly enough. We had not yet got used to the presence of so many gas cylinders in the front line, and were not anxious to provoke unnecessary retaliation. The Germans were also very quiet. Some shrapnel, a few "whizz-bangs," six "pineapples," and two medium "minnies" made up his total expenditure for the hours of daylight. Sniping from the Chicken Run on to "A" Company's front line was, however, fairly persistent, but no casualties occurred that day. "A" Company of the 2/7th K.L.R. moved into the subsidiary line that evening as a more permanent garrison, and occupied the line between Battalion Headquarters and Cambridge House.
At midnight a gas attack from the whole front of our Brigade and that of the Brigade north of the Lys had been planned, but was cancelled at the last minute, as the wind proved unfavourable. However, the right battalion was not warned in time, and released their cylinders. We much regretted that ours could not be released too, as the clearing of the line had been arranged, and already several cylinders were leaking badly. But on the night of March 29th, after many "alarums and excursions," our two flank companies and the Brigade north of the Lys let off their gas, while projectors were flung into Frelinghien at the same time. It was a very bright night, and the whitish cloud could be seen rolling across No Man's Land. The wind was rather light, and the Germans must therefore have obtained sufficient warning. A number of coloured lights shot up into the air, bells rang, and rapid rifle and machine-gun fire commenced, which caused the inquisitive to expose as little of their heads above the parapet as was feasible. "Whizz-bangs" and "minnies" began to rain on the front line, where the special R.Es. working the cylinders and the garrison of infantry had a somewhat uneasy time. Our orders were to send an officers' patrol to inspect the damage in the enemy's front line. Fortunately, however, this futile and dangerous performance was countermanded, as No Man's Land was itself full of the gas, which the wind hardly carried beyond our trenches, and three of the R.Es. and four of our men were gassed, and a corporal was killed. Otherwise no one was hit during the retaliation. In due course the R.Es. withdrew in motor lorries and the rest of the men returned to the front line, where the sickly smell of gas was strongly in evidence.
Now that most of the cylinders were empty we paid less regard to the enemy, and determined to try to damp the ardour of the sniper, who had already shot two of our men through the head. Every effort from the front line to spot the fellow had failed, but the observation post in the support line had detected him, though the distance from there to the Germans made it futile to try a shot with a rifle. Major Brookes's assistance was accordingly invoked. A telephone line was run out to the observation post, and a trial round was fired with an 18-pounder. This was sufficiently near for the purpose, but unfortunately was too much for the sniper, who promptly retired. However, a few rounds of "battery fire" were delivered, and the area in the immediate neighbourhood of the sniper's lair was greatly disturbed. We knew he was not hit, but he knew that we had spotted him, and from that moment his activities ceased.
Photo by Gale & Polden Ltd., Aldershot.
THE OFFICERS-WOKING, FEBRUARY, 1917.
The next day, April 30th, a great aeroplane fight took place high over our line. The day was perfect, and it was a wonderful sight to see the aeroplanes twisting and doubling and hear the thin rattle of their machine guns. Suddenly one of the enemy's machines commenced to fall, with a tell-tale streak of smoke trailing behind him. In a moment the grey smoke became a vivid red, and the burning machine came roaring down, crackling and spluttering as the ammunition went off in the flames. For a few minutes it seemed that it must come down right on the top of Battalion Headquarters, but eventually it crashed about two hundred yards away on the open stretch between Battalion Headquarters and Spain Avenue. Both the occupants must have been dead before the machine reached the ground; the pilot was burned beyond recognition in the machine; the observer, an artillery officer, fell out about fifty feet from the ground, and among his papers we found a secret correction card for artillery shooting with aeroplane observation. All attempts to salve anything from the machine proved fruitless. It burned and smouldered for more than twenty-four hours, and its proximity was rendered dangerous by the exploding ammunition.
The question of our billets now began to exercise our minds. The 2/7th K.L.R., in spite of remonstrances, had been located at first in a row of houses close to the Houplines Level Crossing. In that position they had been continually shelled, and the powers that be had finally decided to move them back to a more salubrious locality. This we were very glad to hear, because, other things being equal, billets that are not regular targets for enemy artillery are distinctly preferable. Casualties in billets are always more trying than elsewhere, as they generally seem so gratuitous.
In the Houplines sector more than in any other our snipers and observers had found plenty of scope for the exercise of their special talents. The battalion observation post was in an upper room of a small house in the Rue Solferino, a narrow street which ran off the main road close to Tissage Dump. The Germans had kindly put a "dud" 5·9 through the gable end, thereby providing an excellent view point. The official apparatus installed in this spot was a telescope working on a pivot which was fixed to a quadrant. The observer sat on a chair raised on a rough platform to the necessary height, while next to him sat another man to make the necessary written notes of observations. In addition to a blanket to screen the shell-hole, the observation post was supplied with maps and compass, and also a telephone to Battalion Headquarters and the battery immediately in rear. A fine view of the enemy trenches and the ground in rear was obtainable from this observation post. In addition, there were three sniping posts in the front line, from which subsequently P. G. Jones, Maddocks, Matchett, and Corkill all secured definite "hits"; while for additional observation purposes there was a natural observation post half-way up Irish Avenue, about level with the support line, from which much valuable information of a more local description was obtained.
On May 1st the activity of the hostile artillery began to give evidence of registration on the left half of the battalion front, and support lines, important trench junctions, and communication trenches received direct hits or bursts sufficiently near to be suggestive. That night, as had been anticipated, it being the German Labour Day, sounds of shouting were clearly heard from the enemy lines, while a regular "Brock's benefit" was kept up for a considerable time. Next day the registration was even more marked, so early on the morning of May 4th 2nd-Lieutenant Hodgkinson and a small party of stout-hearted men from "D" Company (Walmsley, Mann, Moore, Evans, Woods, and Bissell) crept out to try to kidnap a German sentry. They worked their way up to a post in Centaur Trench opposite the Pont Ballot salient, and got right under the parapet without being detected. Hodgkinson was, in fact, just climbing into the trench to effect the capture when, most unluckily, the relief arrived, and one of them spotted the blackened face of Rifleman Mann peering over the parapet. Dawn had broken and the game was up. Bombs were hurled in among the Germans, the fellow who had spotted Mann receiving a back-hander from a Mills grenade in the face, and the party raced for home under a hail of machine-gun bullets, rifle grenades, and "pineapples." No casualties were sustained, and, as the G.O.C. Division remarked, "it was a bold and useful bit of work," which only failed through sheer bad luck.
At 10 p.m. the 2/7th K.L.R. began to arrive, and at 12.40 a.m., relief being complete, the various companies and platoons were making for Tissage Dump, where transport awaited the Lewis guns and trench stores. "C" Company moved into the subsidiary line.
Two companies were billeted in large houses in the Rue Jesuit adjoining Brigade Headquarters. These must have been fine residences once, and even the ravages of war had not been able entirely to destroy their architectural pretensions. What was of more importance, they were very strongly built and had good cellar accommodation.
The other two companies were at 57, Rue de Lille, where the battalion had spent the evening en route for the Rue du Bois. Battalion Headquarters were in a good house, No. 3, Rue Bayard, a turning off the Rue de Lille. You entered through a gateway into a paved courtyard, surrounded by various domestic offices, and thence up a few steps into a roomy building with a delightful garden behind. The dining-room contained a book-case full of beautifully bound volumes. The Quartermaster's Stores were situated in a large house in the Rue de Lille, opposite which the truck-lines for the trenches started. Mule-drawn trolleys as far as Tissage Dump, and from there smaller trucks man-handled, were the methods of transport employed. The transport lines remained at Bac St. Maur. For the men there were several good estaminets dotted about the town; while a good meal for officers could be obtained at the "Au Bœuf," an ordinary French provincial restaurant, while the more fastidious frequented "Lucienne's," opposite the church of Notre Dâme. There was also "Madame Burberry's" shop, where most items of clothing and field kit were on sale.
The period in reserve was not without incident. To begin with, General Headquarters' pamphlet S.S. 143, "The Training of Platoons for Offensive Action," had just been issued. It contained a scheme for the employment of a platoon as a small force of all arms—one section Lewis gunners, one rifle grenadiers, one bombers, and one riflemen, with a platoon headquarters consisting of the officer, platoon sergeant, runner, and signaller. Each battalion was now ordered to tell off one platoon for special instruction in this latest scheme. This was not particularly difficult, except that the average strength of a platoon and its four sections never approached the strength of the "War Establishment" platoon for whose instruction these illuminating pamphlets were always designed. The selection of ground proved far more difficult, but an open space in the vicinity of the Nieppe Bridge, where some old practice trenches stood, afforded reasonable facilities at a moderate distance from the billets. The Second-in-Command, Major H. K. Wilson, undertook to find a site, and ultimately decided upon what seemed suitable for the purpose. Unfortunately, the site selected had also been chosen as the position for certain silent batteries and defensive machine-gun companies, who watched Major Wilson making notes in his notebook and arrested him as a suspected person. Major Wilson persuaded the machine gunners to accompany him to Battalion Headquarters, whence, after he had been identified, they retired, feeling no doubt that they had at least done their duty. The incident caused considerable merriment, but to no one more than to the officer chiefly concerned.
The shelling of Armentières by the enemy had recently become a daily and nightly operation. Our gradual increase of guns of major calibre hidden among the houses—there were two 8-inch howitzers in a garden in the Rue Bayard—was quite sufficient to attract hostile notice. Apart from Armentières itself, the enemy had also been busy shelling many back areas, and in retaliation the Second Army decided on a general back area shoot, commencing at 7.30 p.m. on April 7th, and all ranks were warned to keep under cover.
The shoot duly commenced, but in spite of the din we heard what sounded uncommonly like a barrage on the 2/7th K.L.R. front. However, we imagined, as at first did they, that this was the anticipated retaliation. At 7.45 p.m. a false gas alarm occurred, but at 8 p.m. the order came for the battalion to stand-to. The raid for which we thought the Germans had been registering had actually come off, and, as ill-luck would have it, at the same moment as our area shoot. At 10.15 p.m. we were ordered to send up a company to reinforce the 2/7th K.L.R., and "D" Company duly moved off, returning at dawn the next morning without casualties. A further barrage at 10 p.m. caused a second stand-to, but the fire died away in a short time, and normal conditions were finally re-established.
On May 8th "A" Company relieved "C" Company in the subsidiary line, and full particulars of the raids were obtainable. The enemy had certainly put up a very fine barrage, but fortunately "C" Company had escaped casualties, though Captain Eccles, returning from Battalion Headquarters, had a narrow escape, and had been forced on one occasion to make a somewhat hasty descent into a muddy ditch.
Preparations now commenced for the relief, an operation which became easier every time the battalion returned to the old sector. On May 11th the Lewis gunners moved in, and the trollies were soon busy trundling up and down the Houplines road, which became more unhealthy every day. Shelling was, in fact, much more frequent and general by day, though our nights also were regularly disturbed by the scream and crash of the shells landing in the houses. The area round the Pont de Nieppe attracted special attention, and many civilians were killed or wounded. The gas-works, where a number of guns were concentrated, the churches of Notre Dâme and St. Vaast, the Rue Sadi Carnot, the railway station, and other places, also came in for their share of attention, till really one began to think that perhaps the trenches were preferable to the billets.
On May 10th a Padre was attached to us, the Rev. M. T. Eland, and it was arranged that he should share Captain McHugh's elegant quarters at Tissage Dump. This was a reasonably intact house, containing, amongst other choice bits of furniture collected from the neighbouring houses, some beautiful plush-covered chairs. The area just beyond Tissage Dump itself used to come in for a good deal of shelling, but McHugh slept unconcernedly on the first floor, and paid little attention to the noise of falling débris and the hum of flying splinters. It was a handy place of call for visitors, often rather breathless in consequence of having traversed the last part of the Houplines road in what the text-books call "a series of short rushes."
Just before the relief the enemy expended more than his usual quantity of ammunition on Armentières, and we were not sorry when he desisted shortly before the march to the trenches was scheduled to commence. The relief itself was carried out without any interference on the part of the foe. The companies had been moved round, and the order from right to left was "A," "B," "C," "D." To our disgust, we found that great quantities of gas were in process of being installed in our sector, projectors being located near the cemetery and on the extreme left. Every night large carrying parties of the Irish came struggling up the trenches; and for the benefit of those who have never had personal experience, it may be stated that gas cylinders are no light weight and are awkward things to handle, apart from the extremely unpleasant nature of their contents should a flying piece of shell happen to cause a leak. One very wet night, when the duck-boards, slippery with the rain, made the task more than usually distressing, Captain Eccles was passing down Wessex Avenue on his nightly tour of inspection. Suddenly the sounds of highly-coloured language from the direction of the Fry Pan attracted his attention. Now, it was quite easy to turn into the Fry Pan unwittingly, and even in daylight very far from easy to find your way out again. An unfortunate carrying party, loaded with cylinders, were found by Captain Eccles just completing their third tour round this circular redoubt—an occupation which, when the frequent low overhead traverses were concealed by the blackness of the night, would warrant the employment of any form of bad language. Great apprehension existed in the minds of the authorities, and not without reason, lest the enemy should detect what was going on. Cylinders and gas were never allowed to be alluded to as such either in the front line or on the telephone. They were called "eggs," and incidentally by the men many other names not fit for publication. In addition to this, companies had to send out covering parties into No Man's Land to prevent the approach of any inquisitive German. Lying flat on your stomach in wet mud and grass on a drenching night, and for two hours at a stretch, is most dispiriting work, especially if you have to live in your soaking garments for the next eight days, with the added joy of expecting that you may be in the front line when the gas is being released. Fortunately, during these operations the enemy remained exceedingly quiet. Artillery destructive shoots drew no response; and a rifle grenade and light trench mortar battery shoot on Cell Trench, and wire-cutting in front of Centaur Trench by medium trench mortar batteries, produced no effect on him whatever.
The damage done by the raid barrage was found to be considerable. A trench which had been laboriously constructed from the left-centre Company Headquarters to the detached post at Hobbs Farm, previously only accessible viâ Cambridge Avenue, had been completely obliterated. It appeared to have been in the 100 per cent. zone of the barrage line, and though to save time one did go along it, one risked constant exposure.
The observers now began to notice considerable movement in and behind the enemy's line. Men were seen wearing packs, others popped their heads over the parapet, and transport was heard at night. A relief was suspected, and on May 17th the suspicion was more than confirmed by the unusual activity of the Germans. Their attitude became suddenly aggressive. "Pineapples" became unpleasantly frequent on the left company sector, and a sniper reappeared in the old loophole in the Chicken Run, which had not been used for fifteen days. Fortunately, the larger "minnie," which commenced operations just before our last tour ended, showed no signs of activity; it was probably part of a "travelling circus" brought up for the raid. Anyhow, "pineapples," small though they may be, are noisy and destructive, and made the left company sector very unpopular. There was also a long-range light "minnie" which carried nearly to the subsidiary line. Artillery activity, though spasmodic, was considerable on some days. The left-hand communication trenches—Edmeads and, more particularly, Irish Avenues—were heavily shelled, direct hits being not infrequent, and parties were always being sent to clear away the fallen earth. On other days a few rounds on Houplines and two or three bursts of shrapnel over the cemetery were the only signs of activity.
On May 20th Colonel Fletcher went on leave, and Major H. K. Wilson assumed command of the battalion.
On the night of May 20th we made an attempt to get into Centaur Trench, but the party was detected, and had to retire hastily under a shower of grenades. At 2 a.m. the next morning the enemy returned the compliment by trying to cut off a bombing post situated between Edmeads and Hobbs Farms. The operation commenced with a sudden shower of stick grenades, and a couple of men were seen trying to get through the wire into the derelict trenches in "N" Gap. Bombs were thrown and rapid fire opened, and Rifleman "Gink" Bailey distinguished himself by standing on the parapet and slanging the Germans to the full extent of his very adequate Irish-American vocabulary. The Germans, disliking this, or at any rate not appreciating their general reception, withdrew, and a patrol was immediately dispatched, which located a dead German on the wire. He proved to belong to the 14th Bavarian I.R. Shrapnel was called for on the enemy's front line to welcome their return, after which the night settled down to its normal state once more.
As the spring advanced the trenches lost a great deal of their barren unloveliness. What had been mud or greyish-looking grass now became a deep and luxuriant carpet of bright fresh green, with many a wild flower peeping out here and there. The trees, which so far had been but gaunt skeletons, began to cover their nakedness with fresh foliage. The sides of Gloucester Avenue were gay with poppies and white daisies; Sussex Avenue became an ideal country footpath, dotted with may-trees; and even that forbidding-looking spot the Orchard assumed quite a cheerful aspect. Round Cambridge House the lilacs blossomed out, both purple and white. Roses bloomed in the old gardens near Tissage Dump, and later on a small crop of strawberries and currants was gathered there. A stroll round the line in the early morning was a real pleasure. Just as the dawn was breaking you could wander anywhere. Not a shot would be fired and the guns were silent. As the sun climbed higher in the heavens, the pleasant smell of fresh, moist earth filled the nostrils, instead of the stale stench of which one had grown so sick. Dew-spangled grasses and fern overhanging the trench brushed your face as you passed along. In the rapidly clearing mist that heralded the hot day even the ugliest features of the line seemed to take on a certain softening outline, a certain grace in harmony with the countryside. High over No Man's Land you could see the fluttering lark, and all the air was resonant with its trilling notes. The call of the cuckoo sounded from the trees, and the chatter of sparrows and finches in the overgrown hedges filled the air with a merry sound, while but a few hours previously the nightingale had been pouring out its full-throated melody. "Oh, to be in England now that April's here!" How we re-echoed Browning's wish, with the substitution for "April" of the month of June, at which we had now arrived! How true the words seemed, how deep their significance! Beautiful as Nature was around us, rejoiced as we were at this delightful contrast to the hideousness of strife, yet it increased the bitterness and made one feel more keenly than ever the loathsome misery of war. How one pictured to oneself the peaceful beauty of the English countryside, so like this in outward appearance, and yet so different in reality! How one longed for the war to be over, to wander once more in the fields on a summer's morn, with the black clouds of war cleared away for good, and not merely lifted for a few precious moments!
Boom! The "morning hate" has begun. With a start we come back from our pleasant dreams. Another stifling day is before us, and the never-ending struggle with its monotony, its destruction, its every detestable feature, claims us once more for its own.
One of the special delights of the Commanding Officer was crawling about exposed parts of the sector by day. It was not only his anxiety to acquire an accurate knowledge of his sector, though that was certainly one reason; he wanted to find out where every derelict trench led to, what secrets lay hidden in those areas of abandoned chaos in which the sector abounded, and no one could ever have known his sector better than did Colonel Fletcher. But apart from all this, his old big-game hunting instincts were aroused. This time he was not tracking the shy koodoo or the skulking lion, but matching his brains and his woodcraft against the ever-watchful German. Major Geddes more than once accompanied him on these excursions, as he crawled and wriggled on his stomach from place to place, now lying up to use telescope and field-glasses, now tracing out all the intricacies of our own or the enemy trenches. Home the pair would come at last, with the perspiration streaming down their faces. "Well, that is the best afternoon I have had since the war started!" the Commanding Officer would exclaim, as he sat mopping his face and drinking large cups of tea.
The gas attack had originally been fixed for the night of May 20th-21st. The targets selected for the projectors were Census Support Line, Les 4 Hallots Farm, and Battalion Headquarters at Census Farm. The inclusion of the latter target caused some people certain misgivings, as they had a suspicion—afterwards confirmed from a captured German map—that our own Headquarters were not unknown to the enemy. The usual invasion of our sector by "N" and "L" Special Companies, R.E., took place on the night in question. Extra telephones had been rigged up, and in addition cryptic messages about "presentations of medals" and "indents for bicycles" came frequently over the 'phone. At the last moment the wind veered round, as it frequently did at night. It was too late to cancel the orders by message, so a special signal rocket was fired from Headquarters. It was a red, green and red rocket. The first one lighted refused to move at all; but the second, a parachute light, went up with a roar for about twenty feet, and then sailed off along the subsidiary line. Fortunately, it was successful in stopping the discharge of the gas. We took a more than usual interest in this discharge, as it appeared that we could not be relieved till it took place. However, in the end, when we had been in ten days, the attack was definitely postponed for twenty-four hours to allow the relief to be effected. On the early morning of May 22nd 2nd-Lieutenants Hodgkinson and Little with patrols attempted entries into the German line at Cell Trench, opposite Hobbs Farm and at Centaur Trench respectively. Both were spotted and heavily bombed, Little being slightly wounded, but not sufficiently for evacuation. Lieutenant Alcock two days previously had been hit in the eye by a splinter from a "pineapple," and had retired temporarily to a Base hospital.
In spite of rather depressing accounts from the 2/7th K.L.R. as to shelling in the vicinity of billets, we were glad to find, on May 22nd, that the relief, twice postponed, was really to take place. Dug-outs or "bivvies" are not particularly comfortable—some, indeed, very much the reverse. You get tired of stooping, of working by the light of one miserable candle, of eating at odd times and of sleeping at odd hours. The daily and nightly tours round the line become more than usually wearisome. Duck-boards seem to get more treacherous, angle irons and stray bits of barbed wire seem to project still farther from the sides of trenches; while for the man in the post—and everyone else's position is bliss compared with his—the time must have been trying indeed. Not that it was particularly dangerous, though even in quiet sectors most posts have their highly unpleasant periods; but it was infinitely uncomfortable and trying to the last degree. Besides, there was the pleasant hope that the wind would surely be favourable for one night at least out of the next eight, and then the 2/7th K.L.R., and not we, would experience the delights of a gas discharge, to the accompaniment of the applause of the enemy, which was usually of a vigorous nature. However, the relief took place at last without any hitch, and the early hours of May 23rd found us back in our old billets in Armentières. The routine was the same as last time—working parties, one platoon for special training, and the remainder general training. The new extension for the box-respirator was also fitted, and in addition we received twenty horse respirators, to which even the mules raised no violent objection. The opportunity was also taken to have all the swords sharpened. Two officers at a time were attached for instruction to A/286 Battery, R.F.A., and as the latter's quarters were situated in a comfortable orchard, the two days allowed passed pleasantly enough.
On May 26th "B" Company, who had remained in the subsidiary line, were relieved by "D" Company. Early the next morning sounds were heard suggestive of a gas attack. The great bell at Houplines Level Crossing was tolling. Runners flew off to rouse the companies. Officers appeared at doorways, clothed in pyjamas, gum-boots, and box-respirators; while Lieutenant James, the Gas Officer, sniffed the early morning air like a war-horse scenting battle. Each person in turn thought he smelt chlorine—or was it phosgene? In every case it turned out to be the smell of a stale cigar, the proximity of the refuse-bin, or something else equally harmless. Gas there was none, and at length, after conversation with the Brigade, it was discovered that a few gas shells had fallen near the sentry at the level-crossing, and thus produced an alarm. So back we all went, cursing, to bed, everyone feeling a bit resentful that after we had been thus disturbed no gas had come after all.
On May 29th the gas stored in Houplines was at length released. The only part that we took in the proceedings was the posting of six stretcher-bearers at the top of Irish Avenue, an unpleasant spot, though fortunately they sustained no casualties.
During these days in billets the presence of the Battalion Orchestra made itself felt, with excellent results. The instruments had been brought over for us by the Division. It was a considerable item for regimental baggage, consisting as it did of ten instruments. Sergeant Lawton, battalion sanitary N.C.O., was in charge of the orchestra, and played the trombone when his duties permitted. Rifleman Garrod, the first violin, was a player of exceptional merit from the Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra. As a soloist he was particularly fine. The remaining members of the party, all well above the average, were—violins, Lewin, Hardacre, and Lance-Corporal Hume; viola, Edmondson; 'cellos, Kaye and Kennedy; bass, Lance-Corporal Buckley; trombone, Williams; drums, Burden; and librarian (self-styled and self-appointed), Rifleman King. Lance-Corporal Bell, from the Quartermaster's Stores, occasionally performed on the oboe. Rifleman Collins, an excellent violinist, had been left behind, unfortunately, in England suffering from influenza.
By arrangement with the other units of the Brigade, our contribution to the recently formed Brigade Pioneer Company was reduced by the strength of the orchestra. In return for this, the latter was always loaned to another battalion while we were in the line, and also for special occasions when we were out. In addition, it used to play for our own mess on guest nights, and very delightful it was; and also occasionally for the Divisional Concert Party's performances, and for the Brigade and Divisional Commanders. It was in great demand everywhere, and there can be no doubt that the results more than justified the employment of the personnel thus utilized. Another invaluable asset was Rifleman Kessen, a very prince of conjurers. He seemed to have an infinity of excellent tricks, and he fooled you under your very nose in the most baffling fashion.
On May 31st the battalion once more relieved the 2/7th K.L.R. The arrangement of companies—"A," "B," "D," "C" from the right—was due to the forthcoming raid, to be carried out by parties from "A" and "B" Companies on Centaur Trench, opposite the Pont Ballot salient. This necessitated "A" and "B" Companies being as near the proposed area as possible. Colonel Fletcher arrived in the line from leave at midnight, and with characteristic energy proceeded at once on a tour of inspection.
This spell in the line was one of exceptional activity. To begin with, there was the impending raid, which, being our first, occupied nine-tenths of our thoughts. There were innumerable special patrols to examine the wire and the approaches to the points of entry; the artillery wire-cutting operations had to be settled; the incessant visits to observation posts and the selection of forming-up places, raid headquarters, regimental aid posts, etc., to be arranged for. In addition to all this, the Battle of Messines took place during the tour. Immediately after that came orders for following up the enemy, if he voluntarily evacuated his trenches; and before we were half through that came schemes for the defence of Armentières in the event of an attack by the Germans. But we must take things in order.
The morning after relief (June 1st, 1917) the enemy dropped a "pineapple" into a Lewis-gun post of "C" Company, killing three men and wounding two. His activity in this direction was now so great that steps had to be taken to cope with it. Two light trench mortars were permanently established in the front line, and for every "pineapple" we returned a number of Stokes shells. The teams did not have a pleasant time of it, as the Germans made every endeavour to knock them out; but they stuck to it gallantly, and by the end of the time their efforts had become singularly effective, although the enemy later retaliated by producing a medium "minnie."
A slight scare was caused by the alleged appearance of a German near "C" Company's cook-house, at the left extremity of the subsidiary line, and patrols spent several nights down by the river trying to catch the supposed intruder. Whether there was anything in the rumour or not was never satisfactorily settled, but it would have been perfectly simple for him to get there. Between our left and the river there was a gap of a couple of hundred yards, which after weeks of fine weather had become dry and hard, and, as subsequent investigations after the Armistice proved, there was ample cover for a whole battalion to come up unseen. Moreover, the German raids on the left sector must have revealed to them the absence of any serious opposition in that part of the line. In fact, the liability of the battalion to be outflanked on the left was the subject of a strong memorandum from Colonel Fletcher, but nothing was done except that some wire was erected later, and a Lewis gun post located in the cellar of a ruined house close to the river and in line with our support line. The presence of fresh earth on a footbridge crossing a branch of the Lys, which was discovered by the patrol, certainly gave some colour to the story of "C" Company's cook.
June 4th, 5th, and 6th produced barrages on the Messines Ridge; they took place each afternoon, and lasted for about an hour. It was understood that barely half of the guns to be employed on the day were in action, but it was a wonderfully awe-inspiring sight to watch the effect of the mass of shells crashing down on the slopes of the ridge. The heavies in Armentières and our own 18-pounders took part in these preliminary barrages, with the result that the shelling of Armentières by the enemy became intense, and particularly in the vicinity of battery positions, which constant firing had now revealed to the enemy, and produced the most severe counter-battery work on his part. Our trenches, too, received marked attention. The enemy seems always to have been suspicious of an attack on Frelinghien, and he set to work on the left and left-centre company sectors with great determination. Shells of a calibre not usually employed in ordinary trench warfare began to plough up our communication trenches, Irish Avenue especially. Cambridge House was frequently shelled intensely, and, in fact, there was no part of our sector that did not receive considerable attention daily. The wire-cutting on the right provoked the enemy terribly, and each time it was carried out severe retaliation took place. Houplines road was now shelled regularly with great bursts of 5·9's and heavy shrapnel. One 4·2 battery kept up such an incessant fire into the vicinity of Tissage Dump that we used to call it the "rising tide," the noise of the stream of shells as they passed over sounding not unlike the steady onrush of the sea.
Quesnoy, nearly opposite to us, we used to bombard heavily, and some part of it was usually on fire. Frelinghien was frequently almost hidden in red dust, while Wytschaete Ridge for long periods at a stretch looked as if it were enveloped in a sandstorm. Every night north of the Lys one or both sides were raiding, and the rumble of barrages, the red bursts of shrapnel, and the stream of coloured rockets continued well on into the daylight.