CHAPTER XXII
From the finish of the battle of Festubert until the Indian Corps took part in the subsidiary attack in front of Mauquissart on the opening day of the battle of Loos in September 1915, was for us what was called in France a quiet time. No big attack was undertaken and no special features marked this period. The troops, however, had plenty of hard work, and a few incidents are worth recording. Some of our old battalions left us, and a few others arrived from Egypt, etc. Among the departures were the 15th Sikhs, 6th Jats, 9th Bhopals, 41st Dogras, and 125th Rifles. I was sorry to miss the old numbers, but after being refitted, brought up to strength, and re-equipped, they again joined one or other of our numerous forces operating in the many theatres of war, and shared in the toils and triumphs of Great Britain’s armies.
After the Indian Corps had left France, I wrote, as part of a story for a magazine, a tale of one Naik Ayub Khan of the 124th, attached to the 129th Baluchis. This was not allowed to be printed by the Censor, but all the same long before the war ended it appeared in full in The Indian Corps in France. I suppose if the Germans had found out that it was written by a former Commander of the Indian Corps it might have altered the whole course of events in Europe, so I presume it was that Solomonic Censor (and not Marshal Foch) who ended the war!
Here is the story, and I will give it in his own words:
“At 10 P.M. on 21st June I started with one other man to patrol the ground in front of our own trenches. The grass for about 100 yards this side of the German trenches has been cut. Their wire is about fifteen yards wide, and is composed of high wire entanglements (3 feet to 3 feet 6 inches high) outside, and chevaux de frise inside. It commences about five yards outside the German trenches.
I arrived at the ditch on the left of the road close to the barricade on the road near Point 63 one hour before dawn. I waited until it was light, and till the Germans stood to arms, and then stood up and held up my hands, saying, “Germany, I am an Indian Musalman.” The Germans immediately called an officer, who signalled to me to put down my rifle by the barricade. I then gave up my bayonet and ammunition and climbed over the barricade. The time was about 2 to 2.30 A.M.
There were many Germans in the trench, all wearing the number “15” on their shoulders. They wore grey uniform and soft forage caps, with a stiff and black shining band, apparently made of the same material as the German helmet. They had no pack on their backs, only a belt with several ammunition pouches and a bayonet.
The trench was very deep and strong, and is revetted entirely with boards held up with stakes. The floor of the trench is boarded and is kept dry by means of pumps.
Traverses are frequent, I cannot say at what intervals, but about six to eight men between each traverse. Dug-outs are well built and covered with sandbags. Some have doors and windows; these probably belong to the officers.
The parapet is very strong. There are a few loopholes in it for sentries and (perhaps) snipers, but in the case of attack the men would, I think, all fire over the top of the parapet (probably standing) on steps or sandbags. The German trenches appear to be considerably stronger and better built than ours.
About five yards behind their front trench and parallel to it runs a communication trench, connected with the firing-line in every traverse. It is dry and in good condition and I was taken along part of it.
Until the sun rose I stayed with the officer who called me in, and then he took me along the trench to a senior officer about 500 yards towards the German right.
During my walk through the trenches I saw some iron loopholes, probably for day sentries, also some wooden loopholes which may be used at night. There are more men in the German front-line trenches than in ours, perhaps in the proportion of three to two.
The senior officer had a shoulder-strap covered with silver braid, and the number “15”: I could see no other marks. I was sent off in charge of one N.C.O. and two soldiers. I was treated well and the men in the trenches gave me cigarettes.
The support trench was about 100 yards behind the firing-line. There were no dug-outs, and the trench was absolutely unoccupied. I saw no third line of trenches.
The course I followed seems to have been via (here he described it in detail). I then entered a wood, and went through it by a kacha road. (He emerged at Point 72 or 73, and turned sharp to the left, going for about 200–300 yards with the wood on his left.) I was then taken to the second of two houses on the right, quite close to the turning. The first of these houses is half destroyed and is used as a telegraph and telephone office. A trolley line runs along behind the wood and turns to the right by these two bungalows.
I was taken into the second house and saw two officers. The younger had no coat on; the senior, who saluted me (mark the salute) and gave me cigarettes, had silver braid on his shoulder and a brass crown and a number which I cannot remember. I think they must have been the C.O. and Adjutant.
I stayed there only about five minutes.
I started off along the trolley line, which continued till it reached a main road, probably the Aubers road. (From here the description is vague. Apparently he went past the factory west of Illies church, on to the main La Bassée-Lille road, and thence to Wicres.)
After crossing a railway line, some five minutes afterwards we came to a small village, well built and with only a few houses damaged. There were French women and children in the village. I passed straight through the village, seeing on the right an unmetalled road on which were horse-drawn artillery wagons. I was taken to a house amidst trees in the fork of two main roads.
An officer who spoke a little Hindustani and had been in India came out with a senior officer (whom I took to be a General), white-haired and with a grey moustache, whose shoulder-strap carried thick silver braid as thick as my finger. The Interpreter brought a map and asked me what trenches I knew. I told him that I could not read.
He asked me why the —— Regiment had left. I said they had been engaged for a long time and had lost heavily. Other questions and answers were as follows:
Question.—Were you in the attack at Ypres?
Answer.—Yes.
Q.—How many men did your Brigade lose?
A.—About 300 killed and 200 wounded.
Q.—Is your Brigade very weak now?
A.—No, a new battalion of 1100 rifles has just arrived.
Q.—What is this battalion?
A.—The 89th Punjabis. (The Interpreter then produced a book and wrote this down.)
Q.—Have the 124th (Ayub Khan’s proper battalion) come to this country? It is not in my book. (He saw an old shoulder badge of the 124th in my pocket.)
A.—No. When the 129th had lost 300 men, 400 more came from the 124th to bring them up to strength. When we returned from Belgium drafts arrived from other regiments. We are now 100 under strength but there is a draft of 600 men waiting for us (a good lie) when we are relieved from the trenches. I told him that the present strength of our companies is about ninety men. (Indian battalions formerly had eight companies.)
Q.—Do you have plenty of rifle ammunition?
A.—Each sentry is given a box and can fire what he likes.
Q.—Have the guns plenty of ammunition?
A.—Each battery has a dug-out full of ammunition, and they can fire what they like. (Good lie!)
Q.—What rations do you get?
A.—In the morning, tea, milk, and biscuits. In the evening, meat, bread, and vegetables.
Q.—Do you get pay?
A.—We are fed and clothed and get soap from Government. We get ten francs monthly in the field, and the rest accumulates at the depot.
Q.—Why did you, a non-commissioned officer, desert?
A.—My section is tired of the war, but dare not come over in case they get fired on. We discussed the matter and I decided to go alone and arrange for the others to come over. There are fifteen men in my section who want to desert, and I can find five more in the battalion.
The senior officer then said that, if I would come over to the Germans, I should get very good pay, and that he would give me Rs. 300 if I brought over twenty men.
These questions were asked at about 12 noon on the 22nd.
I was then sent to sit in an orchard. They brought me milk and bread on three occasions. A number of soldiers came to look at me. I saw about eight men with the number “55” on their shoulder-strap, and about ten men with the number “13.”
I sat in the orchard until 9 P.M. with some German soldiers. They all had a crown on their shoulder-straps and another mark I could not understand. They wore an ordinary black German helmet, with a black board on the top, raised up a little. One man took the grey cover off and showed me his helmet. It had a big white badge in front. (N.B.—This appears to be the 16th Uhlans.)
At about 9 P.M. the Interpreter, one of the officers, and I returned to the trenches in a motor-car. The officers in the trenches did not want to let me go. However, it was arranged that at dawn I should bring over the twenty men and call out my own name. The men were to bring rifles with them but leave them in the grass. I then left the German trench and arrived back in our own trenches about midnight the 22nd-23rd instant.
I brought back my rifle, belt, and bandolier. They took my ammunition and bayonet.
As regards the distance of the place of interrogation from the German trenches I cannot remember, but was walking for about two hours on the morning of the 22nd. My motor-car ride the same evening was about five or six miles.” Ends.
The story is a remarkable one and its general correctness was proved by subsequent events. Ayub Khan carried his life in his hand, for had his actions caused one doubt of any kind among his captors he would assuredly have been shot. One spot indicated by him as an ammunition dump was subjected to a heavy fire two days later and a very considerable explosion occurred which we at the time attributed solely to the information gained. The Hun was notified by unmistakable signs that the naik’s treachery had been discovered and rewarded, as such conduct in war should be.
Meantime I had the pleasure of presenting Ayub Khan with a larger sum of money than he had been promised by the Germans, promoting him to a higher grade of N.C.O., and getting him the Indian Order of Merit. Promotion to the commissioned rank of jemadar soon followed his other rewards.
Towards the end of June 1915 I wrote to G.H.Q. through the First Army on the subject of the depots, convalescent camps, and drafts at Marseilles. I have before me reports of a Committee of experienced senior officers, also separate reports of other officers concerned. Those who only judge Army Corps by the number of rifles and guns available might receive a shock on reading these documents, and incidentally gather therefrom some of the difficulties that had to be faced by the Commander of the Indian Corps in France. The truth is that Marseilles proved to be the most unsuitable place that could have been selected as the Indian Base. When we first arrived it was intended to move it farther north, Havre or elsewhere, as soon as the main body of the Corps had reached the front; but once established, Marseilles remained our Base to the end. Its geographical position and the shortage of shipping, of course, had much to say to this.
The Committee did not shirk responsibility. On the contrary, its report is a document that should be valuable to those who may ever again be called on to select bases in Europe for Indian troops, and assist them to avoid the stupid blunders that were made and the chaotic conditions that prevailed. The Commandant, Colonel G. F. Tinley, did all a man could do. He worked all and every day, but he could not refashion a rotten system nor cleanse the Augean stable. Some of the reservists and drafts that were sent from India were a humiliation to our name. Some of the officers who passed them as fit should have been removed from the Army.
For what did it all mean? Merely this, that from reasons either of laziness or stupidity they did not hesitate to send men marked as fit for service in the field who were absolutely unfit, and who they must have known were unfit. They themselves were safe enough in India; if anything went wrong, well! their comrades in France and not they would suffer. As I look back on it all I cannot but hope that in most cases it was only ignorance, but of what use are such officers in the Indian Army?
It is difficult to write calmly on such a subject, for on 15th July I myself went down to Marseilles and remained there four days. I saw all that was being done, inspected every hospital, depot, and draft, and returned to Flanders, only realising fully for the first time that the authorities in India knew as much about the requirements of a European war as I did about a Zeppelin.
Talk of the mentality of the East: I truly learned more of it in those four days in Marseilles than I had in a lifetime. The mind of India was laid bare. The ignorance of the West, when endeavouring to understand the viewpoint of the East, suddenly stood naked before me. I thought I knew something of Indians; I left Marseilles knowing a little more, but still very far from all.
A few details may amuse the reader; they certainly afford material for amusement, though little comfort was it at that time. I will quote from the official reports. One lot of reservists was classed as “utterly valueless.” Of nineteen men of one regiment “three are fit for service.” Another small draft was classed together as “particularly poor,” of another out of thirty-five men sent “ten are plague convalescents who have not even yet recovered their full vigour.” One boy was referred to as fourteen years of age, and another as a “mere child.” Of a draft of sixty-seven reservists nine were of “indifferent physique” and fifty-eight “unfit.” India appeared anxious to fill up sorely needed shipping with trash of this sort. One draft of thirty Hindus was sent for the 129th Baluchis, a Class Mahomedan regiment that had not had a Hindu in it for thirty years, and of the thirty, twenty-two were pronounced unfit on arrival at Marseilles.
Finally this particular Committee closed its proceedings with the remark: “Of 212 men inspected only five or six—who (also) are temporarily unfit—are suitable for service in France.”
G.H.Q. was shouting to us, “Promite vires,” on the battle front, but we were fast reaching the Ultima Thule of our resources in the rear.
Attached to the Indian Corps was Captain P. J. G. Pipon of the Indian Civil Service. He had volunteered for active service and in addition to his military duties did much work of a political nature. His assistance in all matters connected with religion, interior economy, etc., always proved most valuable, and his inquiries at Marseilles unearthed many details which make strange reading. He received the Military Cross and C.I.E. for his services in the war. My Indian A.D.C., Risaldar Khwaja Mahomed Khan, I.D.S.M., accompanied him on one occasion, and then, as always, rendered invaluable service. Of course in the doing of this he made many enemies, and those who understand the East will know what this means. His loyalty and zeal deserve strong recognition, and I feel certain that should the Viceroy or Commander-in-Chief ever hear of these remarks they would not fail to inquire, and would assuredly see that this distinguished Indian officer was honoured by those who owe him a debt of gratitude. Captain E. B. Howell (I.C.S.), Censor with the Indian troops, rendered valuable service and received a C.I.E.
In March 1915 I had recommended to G.H.Q. that wounded Indians should not be sent back to the front, and the Adjutant-General had issued orders to this effect. They still continued, however, to be sent, and in May the G.O.C. First Army himself made similar recommendations, to which the A.G. replied that only those who volunteered would be returned. It was a great mistake keeping wounded men at Marseilles. They did little good and much harm, and they should either have been kept in England or returned to India. It was folly to mix them up with fresh drafts, who were not cheered on first arrival by meeting a lot of bandaged men. The Indian is not built that way.
However, it was eventually decided that all recovered wounded, as well as sick, should as soon as pronounced fit be sent back to the front. On this I made fresh recommendations for forming a working battalion behind our lines, which could be utilised, at any rate for military working parties. This project had taken shape before I left France. It was indeed the only way out of the difficulty, and served as a means of partially clearing that focus of discontent, Marseilles.
On 2nd July I attended the regimental sports of the 4th Cavalry. A big French crowd had gathered, and the proceedings recalled many happy days in India. The tent-pegging was quite good, and the jumping showed that the horses were in good fettle and well trained.
The 4th Cavalry, the Divisional Cavalry Regiment of the Meerut Division, was originally raised in 1838 as the “Cavalry Regiment of the Oudh Auxiliary Force,” and received its present title in 1904. It was granted an honorary standard for service in Scinde in 1844, and served in Afghanistan (1879–80).
On 8th July Lord Kitchener visited us. He told me the Indians were to have a rest and also said very decidedly that he meant to keep them in France to the end of the war. He informed me that they would be formed into ONE Division, and not kept as two, which was the opposite of what he had sturdily maintained when I last saw him, so I presume the pressure brought to bear on him had been too much even for his determination. The G.O.C. First Army also informed me that the Indians were to have three weeks’ rest, and that the British battalions were to be formed into two Brigades and have a third added whilst the Indians’ rest lasted. By the 16th July this reorganisation had been completed, but was of short duration, as only a week later we were again ordered to change our front, and 3000 rifles of those in rest were sent to the Lahore Division, which had been detailed to hold the line whilst all the Indian units had been temporarily turned into the Meerut Division. Lord Kitchener on this visit was in peculiarly happy vein and made light of all his difficulties.
On 11th July the pipers of the 40th Pathans played in the square of the village where our Headquarters was located and a large crowd of French people gathered to listen. It was a very cheerful sight, and an old Frenchman who was bent double came up to me and said, “Your Indians are just like the British, you are a wonderful race of people.”
My own old battalion, the 1st Leinsters, was at this time quartered at Armentières not far from us, and I went over to see them. Unfortunately I had selected the 14th July for my visit, not remembering that it was a great date in France, and that, in consequence, the Boches would certainly select it as a special day of hate. Before I reached the town this was forcibly brought home to me by the heavy shelling it was being subjected to. However, I had fixed an hour and I knew the battalion would be on parade waiting for me, shells or no shells. With some difficulty I wended my way in a motor-car by back streets full of debris, and arrived in time. I carried out a formal inspection while the big shells were falling in the Square quite close by; but the men were in high spirits, and I believe had a shell burst in our midst, not a Leinster would have budged even to pick up his comrade. I could not but compare it with the very last occasion on which I had met my old Corps in India and had the high honour of presenting it with new colours, a distinction that does not often fall to the lot of an ordinary officer.
We had lunch to the accompaniment of a chorus of projectiles, and I left after the Hun had poured out the vials of his wrath. The Irishmen looked grand. Would that we could enrol many Army Corps of such fine soldiers.
On 18th July Sir John Hewett, late Lieutenant-Governor of the United Provinces of Agra and Oudh, paid us a visit. He came on duty in connection with the “Indian Soldiers’ Fund,” for which he had done so much and which I have written of elsewhere. Sir John was one of the greatest of modern India’s Proconsuls—a man full of saving common sense, strong in character, quick in decision, just in dealing, such an one, in fact, as Indians respect and love, and his visit was much appreciated by us.
Towards the end of July we received a very fine draft of 900 men from India. I saw them on parade and was very pleased with their physique and general appearance. They were nearly all highly trained and keen to see fighting, and I saw that the authorities had at last begun to realise that what we needed were soldiers and not useless reservists.
Hudson, by this time promoted Major-General, my Chief of Staff, left us to command the Eighth British Division. I was truly sorry to lose so excellent a Staff officer and so good a friend. His knowledge and advice had been invaluable from the day we landed in France. Captain Langhorne, R.A., also rejoined his own Army, and I felt his loss much. Hudson was succeeded by Brigadier-General Charles, R.E., and Captain Forbes, 57th Rifles, relieved Langhorne.
It is of interest to record that at the beginning of July the casualties of the Indian Corps had reached a total of over 26,000, exclusive of nearly 500 other deaths among the Indians.