CHAPTER VI
I have told the story of the Indian Corps up to the date of the arrival of the Meerut Division on the British Front. This Division began its experiences in the trenches on the 29th October, from which date the portion of the line allotted to the Corps came under my command. In place of the Sirhind Brigade detained in Egypt, and the Ferozepore Brigade still away in the north near Ypres, I was given two British Brigades of the Second Army Corps; in addition, two extra battalions were temporarily left with me. With the arrival of the Secunderabad Cavalry Brigade and Jodhpore Lancers, I was able to count on another 1000 men as long as this Brigade might be left at my disposal.
In nearly all the accounts of our doings at this time I find it stated that two and a half Brigades were left to strengthen the Indian Corps; giving the impression that these were in addition to our own full numbers. This is of course entirely erroneous. As a matter of fact, even with the two and a half Brigades lent to us, the Corps was far under the strength of British Army Corps; while in the matter of guns we had nothing but the bare complement of field guns and two heavy batteries of four guns each. In consequence the Second Corps left us, to start with, a proportion of its Corps Artillery.
Sir John French had said to me on the night of my arrival, “Are you prepared to take over the front of the Second Corps at once?” and I replied, “Certainly.” If it had been twice as long, and had we been half our strength, I should have made the same reply. We had arrived and were going to take on anything ordered, and I felt confident we were going to do it well; and looking back on it all, now that one can take an unbiassed retrospect, there is only one conclusion to which honest soldiers will come and that is that all ranks, British and Indians, did their duty nobly and deserve well of their King and our country.
Headquarters were established at Hinges (pronounced by us phonetically), a large château not far from Bethune. In a very few hours we had adapted ourselves to circumstances; electric lights, telephones, and telegraphs were all erected with surprising speed, the Indian Signalling Company under Captain Franklin working as if it had been accustomed to such luxuries, though here they were absolute necessities.
The Indian servants adapted themselves at once to kitchen ranges, and meals were served up as if in an Indian bungalow. In the hall, orderlies and messengers, French, British and Indian, fraternised and exchanged a jargon of words; outside stood a couple of German prisoners guarded by a mud-bespattered trooper, waiting to be interrogated. What must have been their feelings as they watched the medley, and heard the mother tongues of races as far apart as London and Peshawar.
As I leaned over the banisters, I felt a stern joy that it was my good fortune to be entrusted for the first time in war with so varied a task as the control of such divergent elements of humanity, in the heart of a great European country.
Before General Smith-Dorrien handed over the command and left the château, I had the advantage of a long conversation with him. For him I have a great admiration, and I felt his advice would be valuable, and in those two hours I learned much which stood me in good stead during the war. I discovered that in addition to his own war-seasoned Army Corps he had had an extra Brigade. This was news to me; and as I was taking over his front I knew I must hold my trenches very lightly. He knew India and its troops, and had been Adjutant-General as well as commander of a Division in that country, so could speak from personal experience. I received many useful hints from him, and as he drove away I felt we had with the Expeditionary Force a General who thoroughly understood the Corps, and when the day came, which it soon must, for the formation into Armies, I hoped might have us in his command.
With the exception of Sir John French and Smith-Dorrien I was at that time the senior officer in France, but I never for an instant suffered under the delusion that this meant anything to me. I had come with the Indians, and I knew that there I should remain and so long only as they chose to keep me. Commands of Armies were altitudes too dizzy to be reached by a soldier who had lived in khaki it is true, but had worn it in far-away portions of the Empire, and had seldom been seen on the Downs of Salisbury or in the purlieus of Pall Mall or Whitehall.
The front assigned to the Corps was about eight miles in length from north of Givenchy on our right, passing east of Festubert and Richebourg l’Avoué (only a name on the map), west of Neuve Chapelle, past Mauquissart, and taking a bend to Rouges Bancs on our left.
The Meerut Division held the southern portion of the trenches in the following order, commencing from Givenchy: Bareilly, Garhwal, and Dehra Dun Brigades; with the Jalandar Brigade of the Lahore Division on the left. This takes no account of the extra British Brigades which filled gaps as occasion required, until our own two absent Brigades rejoined us.
The night of the 29th October was ushered in by a storm of rain, and through the bogs, ditches, and darkness officers and men tramped to their first battle positions. It was difficult, but every one was keen to try it and learn for himself what manner of game it was that was being played in this novel war. And they soon enough learned it, for within a few hours of their arrival our Indian troops took the first shock. The 2nd battalion 8th Gurkhas was the unit which happened to be holding the portion of trenches chosen by the Hun to test our men in. Throughout the night the Gurkhas were subjected to a heavy fire—shells, rifles, and machine-guns all taking their toll; several Infantry attacks were also made but none were pushed home; and occupying trenches a foot too deep for them under a deluge of rain, the men from Nepal went through a severe ordeal. It was found impossible, under the circumstances, to do anything to improve the trenches, which in many places were merely the ordinary water channels or broad ditches, affording no shelter.
At dawn the Germans made a fresh attack, which however gave them no advantage, and about 8 o’clock concentrated a heavy shell-fire on the 8th Gurkhas and Devons, who with them formed the left of the line of the Bareilly Brigade. For four hours this inferno continued, and, as the Headquarters 5th Division reported, the trenches were seriously damaged.
From 11 A.M. onwards attacks followed one another in rapid succession, but these were splendidly repulsed. Before mid-day Colonel Morris, who was in command of the 8th, began to doubt if his ammunition would last out, and, whilst making the best arrangements possible, observed that the trenches held by Captain E. Hayes-Sadler and Wright were being heavily attacked. For an hour this attack continued. Major Wake also felt the full brunt of an attack against his trench, and on all sides the Gurkhas were being assailed, but held on. By 1.30 P.M. the whole battalion was in the firing-line.
Morris now sent word to General Macbean, his Brigadier, asking for reinforcements and saying his ammunition could not last much longer. He directed Major Wake to hold out at all hazards, which orders that gallant soldier carried on to the death. Captains Hayes-Sadler and H. Wright were killed whilst stemming the advancing tide. Captain E. Stack, although severely wounded, attempted to deliver a message and in this glorious act was again struck down, and killed. Major Barlow, already three times wounded, by strenuous exertions succeeded in driving back a German attack on the right, but here he found his men outflanked and the enemy in his rear, and whilst still endeavouring to do his duty he collapsed into a trench but fortunately after some time recovered his senses and survived to tell the tale.
Captain B. Hartwell was killed, and Colonel Morris, who from first to last had displayed every quality of an intrepid leader, was severely wounded, and lay in a trench till found by his men. He lived to command them once more, and died fighting on the day of Loos in September 1915.
Lieutenant MacLean carried on, although wounded, until unable to continue any longer; and Captain Davidson was missing. Till half-past three o’clock the Gurkhas held on to their line, when a heavy attack succeeded in driving them from their fire trenches. Of Indian officers two were killed, one wounded, and two missing, and the casualties in other ranks totalled 207.
This serious set-back was caused chiefly by the right of the battalion being turned, thus exposing them to a flank attack; but even this might have been averted under conditions less trying to new troops. The merciless shell-fire, the weather, and the trenches, useless to short men, all combined to severely shake them and afforded little opportunity of recovering the lost ground. They had to do what better troops have done over and over again in this war, viz. learn their lesson. It was a severe one and it takes time to obliterate the memory of such an ordeal, but that the battalion was soon again able to take its share in the heavy fighting in Flanders is the best tribute to its tenacity.
Whilst the companies which had suffered most made the best of their way back from the trenches, Major Cassels held his portion of the line, but was, like the remainder, eventually forced back, and Captain Buckland with a company rejoined his Headquarters that evening.
The shortage of British officers is well exemplified by this action, as owing to the number of casualties amongst them I was obliged to send Major Tomkins of the 28th Punjabis, my Assistant Military Secretary, to assume command of the battalion, no other officer in the Corps being available. An officer who had been present throughout the retreat from Mons told one of my Staff that he never experienced a heavier shelling than the Gurkhas were exposed to that day.
A pleasant reminiscence is the recollection of the ungrudging help given by the British Corps in the vicinity. As soon as it was seen that the Gurkhas were being subjected to a very severe shelling and that the enemy was launching one attack after another at them, their comrades of the gallant English regiments whether in first line or in support at once came to their help. Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien directed that the Bedfords and West Ridings, who were down for relief, were not to be withdrawn that night, and the Norfolks and Devons also remained on temporarily, until the situation could be cleared up and the line re-established. An Indian officer who had been through the mill, in telling me about it said, “I do not know a word of English but I will remember the names Napak (Norfolk) and Diban (Devons), they are burra bahadurs (very brave men).”
And this gives me the opportunity of repeating with what real admiration the Indian soldiers looked on their British comrades, not only of the fine battalions which formed part of the Indian Corps, but Britishers of all Corps. It has been an example and a lesson that will never be forgotten, and under many a village tree as the sun goes down over Indian hills and plains the old soldiers of the days to come will recite to their listening brethren tales of the great days when the Gora log (white men) dashed themselves against heavy odds or hurled back the Kaiser’s legions.
The enemy had gained a success, but he was not going to be allowed to retain his hold, and a counter-attack was led by the West Ridings and Bedfords, with the 58th Rifles and 107th Pioneers in support. The attack succeeded in clearing the enemy out of his captured trenches nearly to the late support line of the Gurkhas; and the 58th Rifles from this point were pushed through to the assault. The Hun had had his fling and it was now his turn to run, with the result that the support trenches were captured with some farm-houses near them. These were at once subjected to a severe shelling which caused many casualties, amongst them Colonel W. E. Venour commanding the 58th and Lieutenant J. M. Craig (attached to the battalion from the 57th Rifles) were both killed.
The 58th lost also a good soldier, Captain and Adjutant W. Black, who was killed whilst closely reconnoitring the German trenches prior to the assault; but the regiment kept a firm hold of its gains at a cost of the lives of three British officers and five other ranks killed, and four Indian officers and eighty others wounded. The enemy still retained some of the Gurkha trenches he had captured earlier in the day.
I had known the 2nd battalion 8th Gurkha Rifles since 1886 when they were known as the 43rd Gurkha Light Infantry, and they had borne many different titles since, being reorganised as the 2/8th Gurkha Rifles in 1907. I had served beside them in Burmah 1885–87. They were composed of a fine sturdy lot of men, and had they not had the misfortune to start their very first day in France exposed to a prolonged shelling, followed by a series of heavy attacks, they would not have been so heavily handicapped during the entire campaign as they were by the loss of practically all their own officers at one sweep—the most severe trial an Indian battalion can possibly undergo.
The 58th Vaughans Rifles was an old Punjab Frontier Force battalion; and I soldiered alongside it in the days when it was known as the 5th Punjab Infantry. It was given its present title in 1903. The ranks were filled by Sikhs, Dogras, Pathans, and Punjabi-Musalmans. The battalion took part in nearly all the fighting of the Indian Corps in France, and was ably commanded by Lieut.-Colonel Davidson-Houston, who succeeded to it on the death of Colonel Venour; he later was awarded the D.S.O. and was killed in the attack on the German trenches opposite Mauquissart on the 25th September 1915, and thus the regiment lost two of its commanding officers. One of the last letters he ever wrote was to me (mostly about his beloved battalion) on the eve of his death.
No. 1811, Havildar Karam Singh of the 58th was awarded the Indian Order of Merit for gallantly remaining on in command of his section after being severely wounded.
The Army Corps being now established in its trenches, with different members of my Staff I began a regular round of various portions of the front and visits to the Divisional commanders and Brigadiers. During these tours, which I kept up regularly throughout my tenure of command, I saw over and over again every battalion, regiment and battery in the Corps and inspected every unit forming the Transport, Supply, Medical, etc., and of course every detail of the Hospitals, from the trenches to the railhead. I made a regular practice of doing as much of all this as it was possible to do on horseback, and I am convinced that no ordinary person on the Staff should ever have had a day’s sickness who, wet or fine, mud or dust, took his exercise, and hard exercise too, without fail. Of course the regimental officers and men and all others connected with them had to live a life not only of daily labour, peril and discomfort, but had to do it on foot, and to them must always be awarded the palm of all toil. But I am now writing of the higher Staffs; whatever their responsibilities, they lived in comfort, they slept in houses, and shared comparatively few of the dangers of the war, and yet there were some who were too fond of the motor-car, and whose horses stood idle awaiting the great advance, which did not come till four years later.
Perpetual bodily exercise in war, as in peace, should be insisted on in all ranks; it is the fulcrum of the health lever. In the early days of the war and in the bog which is an ever-present feature of the Flanders landscape I found it most difficult to get to the advanced trenches owing to the impossibility of dragging my steel-bound leg (a legacy of past campaigns) through the mud, and more than once in consequence I found myself riding past sentries who had been posted on roads leading to the vicinity of the trenches to stop all horses or vehicles proceeding any farther. I suppose it was wrong to disobey orders, but the gallant sentinels generally let me pass, only remarking, “All right, pass as the orders are your own.” It was always an interesting experience.
After we had managed to dig communication trenches and improve the drainage, and as the wet decreased, visits to the firing-line were not only in themselves a very good form of exercise, but in truth the most interesting and exciting exercise one could take. I can see the reader, who perhaps spent most of his days in that unenviable region, smile, but I say again, for a General and his Staff the visits to the trenches form their most pleasant recollections.
When one talks of riding across country, it has to be borne in mind that during October and even into November there were days when this was quite feasible, later on it became absolutely necessary to stick to the roads, or what went by that name, as the fields were mere bogs; and often have I been in deep sympathy with my brave chargers, who hammered along the stony tracks or pavés. It had to be done, however, if riding was to be a means of conveyance, and I had the satisfaction of feeling that in the case of my favourite arab, “Arabi Pasha,” no one after his own master would ever mount the faithful horse, and I believe he knew it also. It was one of the farewells one does not wish to repeat.
What manner of country was it in which the Indian Corps now found itself? A dismal dead plain, dotted with farm-houses and here and there clumps of trees. The uninteresting roads metalled only in the centre; ditches and drains in every direction; observation beyond a very limited distance impossible, and for months the morning mists enveloped everything in a thick haze well into mid-day; canals, crossed here and there by bridges, added to the difficulties of communication. The fields soon became impassable; ditto the paths except on foot; rain fell almost daily; snow fell heavily in November; the trenches were first turned into water channels and then frozen over. Above, the aeroplanes seemed the only moving things besides the clouds; below was a waterlogged soil, and on the surface lived and died men who will be handed down for all time as heroes. This monotonous land boasted no hills and valleys, not even a mound; it was just a flat dreary expanse in winter, and studded with green leaves and some wild flowers in summer.
Only a few hundred yards beyond us lay the Aubers Ridge which we were never to reach, and a small wood cast of Neuve Chapelle of which I shall have much to say, and which went by the name of the Bois du Biez. I have since been to Flanders to see that wood, for on it I longingly gazed for ten months, and my last day in France was spent in the trenches exactly opposite to it.
It was plain to see that with our weak battalions and the impossibility of receiving Indian reinforcements, it would be necessary to have in hand a small reserve. The only reserve I could count on was the Secunderabad Cavalry Brigade. Much as I hated doing it, I informed G.H.Q., and although the Commander-in-Chief was sorely pressed for troops I eventually got three battalions, and I forthwith wrote to say that I was now quite happy as to my position. I mention this as, although it may have been inconvenient or even dangerous to weaken the line elsewhere, the Indian Corps was the extreme right of the British line and joined hands with our French allies near Givenchy, and it would have been a blunder to allow any gap being created in that vicinity.
I also at once got into touch with the French Generals and commanders on my right, and we mutually arranged to support one another whenever it might become necessary. We became the best of friends, and many a time did I lend or borrow troops or guns for various operations.
The 2nd November was a day of trial for the Indian troops, as on that morning the 2nd Gurkhas, which held the trenches to the east of the road junction a mile N.E. of Pont Logy and N.W. of Neuve Chapelle, which formed an acute salient in our general outpost line, were furiously attacked. This salient was very much in the air; the trenches were badly sited and could hardly be called trenches at all; there was no plan; salients were open to enfilade fire and the position as a whole was practically untenable. In addition it was isolated from the rear by a spinney and orchard.
The Gurkhas were dumped into it on the night of the 29th and 30th October, and as the C.O. said at the time, there was no option but to hold and make the best of it. The Germans, who were only some forty to sixty yards distant, knew exactly the weakness of the position, and determined to take advantage of it, and with this object in view were fast sapping up to it.
The attack was opened with high explosive shell, and a trench mortar which was some 400 yards distant threw one shell after another in rapid succession, fired with a precision which showed they had the exact range and correct target; the trenches were soon practically obliterated and the occupants blown up, killed, or wounded, the position being rendered still more difficult by the fact that we were being enfiladed. Simultaneously with this the enemy commenced throwing hand-grenades from the saps they had run up close to our line, and No. 3 Company’s trench was made the target for these, rendering its right half untenable. Aided by all these devices the Hun Infantry dashed into No. 1 and 2 Company’s trenches, specially selecting any remaining British officers as their victims.
It is well to once remind those who may read this that all the story of those days must be read in the light of facts as they existed. With the accounts of fighting at a later date before them, they are apt to forget the dark days of 1914 when our men had to face mortars, hand-grenades, high explosive shell, and a hundred other engines or contrivances of war, with which they themselves were not provided. Here were these gallant fellows just arrived and exposed to every form of terror, and they could reply only with their valour and the rifles and two machine-guns per battalion with which they were armed, and yet they did it.
The left half of No. 3 Company’s trench and that of No. 4 Company still remained; these were echeloned back to the left, towards the Connaught Rangers, and they were held till nightfall. The Irishmen, seeing the state of affairs and the tempest sweeping over the Gurkhas, first sent one platoon to their assistance, and followed it with two others.
At this juncture Lieut. J. Reid, the only surviving officer, ordered the occupants of No. 3 trench to fall back towards the left trenches; but the communication trench was full of dying and wounded, and as they crossed the open they suffered heavily. The survivors in the trenches who had managed to hold on were brought out late in the evening by Subadars Dalbahadur Rana and Fateh Singh Newar; this latter officer received the Order of British India for his conduct, and the commanding officer specially mentioned as fighting well and holding on to the last Jemadars Kharak Bahadur Gurung and Tirthe Gurung, who was wounded, as well as Bahadur Ghale and Suba Singh Gurung.
The 1st Battalion 9th Gurkhas were on the right of the 2nd, and well thrown back. Lieut.-Colonel C. E. Norie, commander of the 2nd Gurkhas, carries only one arm, having left the other in the mountains of Tirah; but with one arm he also has but one heart, and it is a brave one.
He was near the battalion reserve when the German attack began, and at once moved with it to the right of his forward trenches; having located the mortar which was doing all the execution, he silenced it by a concentrated fire; shortly after he again moved to his left as his ammunition was exhausted; having replenished this and meeting a squadron of the 34th Poona Horse coming up in support, Norie moved his reserve forward with the squadron to assist in the defence of his left trenches. Met by a furious machine-gun fire, this advance was held up as these trenches had meantime been captured by the enemy.
About 2 o’clock the Gurkhas were subjected to a concentrated fire of high explosive shell and had to move north. That evening reinforcements of Royal Scots Fusiliers and an Indian battalion arrived, and the 9th Gurkhas on the right were also reinforced by a portion of the 6th Jats and 7th Dragoon Guards. Norie himself advanced with the Royal Scots Fusiliers and his own men, and this party got within twenty yards of the Germans, but were then held up by machine-guns. One officer of the Fusiliers was killed and two officers of the Gurkhas were wounded; but although the push did not succeed in getting home, it was too much for the Huns, who forthwith left and returned to their own trenches, and ours were reoccupied.
At this stage Brig.-General Bowes commanding the 8th British Brigade, which was one of the two left with the Indian Corps, issued fresh orders and a new line was begun to be consolidated. During the time General Bowes was with me he invariably rendered good service, always being ready to take on any job.
Such is the story of the first experience of another fine unit being initiated in the form of fighting in Flanders, and brings to light the discipline and tenacity of the Gurkhas of Nepal. The odds were immense, but although hard hit they were ready to take part in a counter-attack, and their British and Indian officers performed many deeds of gallantry.
I have described the part taken by Colonel Norie, and his own Brigadier, C. E. Johnson, and General Anderson commanding the Meerut Division wrote in the highest terms of him and his battalion. Sir John French too wrote in his despatch: “The situation was prevented from becoming serious by the excellent leadership displayed by Colonel Norie of the 2nd Gurkhas.” A very special compliment, as he was the only officer in the Indian Army Corps mentioned by name in this despatch. He was rewarded with a Brevet-Colonelcy.
Of the officers killed, Major H. S. Becher met his death in covering a portion of the retiring line. Lieutenants J. H. Walcott and I. Innes died leading a charge against the enemy as they were nearing our trenches.
Lieut. Reid, after hard fighting, fell whilst coolly conducting a relieving party of the Connaught Rangers to the Gurkha trenches. Lieut. Lucas was killed whilst collecting his men, and the same shell blew up several of them also.
Major Ross and Subadar-Major Man Singh Bohra heroically led a charge which ended in a hand-to-hand fight, during which they and most of their men were killed.
Major N. Macpherson and Captain F. Barton fell at their posts.
Subadars Tekhbahadur Gurung and Gopal Singh Rawat were killed in the counter-attack with Innes and Walcott, and Subadar Chet Singh fell with them.
In the Connaught Rangers, Lieut. G. D. Abbott was killed while moving up with his company in the open to the help of the Gurkhas, and with him fell many of his brave Irish. Lieut. Hewitt of the same battalion was wounded, but the rest held on to their trench during the night. The Rangers suffered forty casualties.
In the 34th Poona Horse, the C.O., Lieut.-Colonel C. O. Swanston, a very keen and earnest soldier, was killed at the head of his men whilst crossing up to the support of the Gurkhas, and in this regiment Sowar Madhu was given the Indian Order of Merit for saving the life of a wounded Indian officer under a heavy fire. The Interpreter Lieut. Sturdee was also wounded and the casualties numbered thirty-eight. Major G. Molloy’s name was brought to notice for good work.
The 2nd Gurkhas had seven out of their full complement of twelve British officers killed, but this did not complete the roll of casualties. Captain G. McCleverty was wounded while “showing great gallantry, always well to the front endeavouring to get to the trenches,” and the same remark applied to Major F. H. Norie, attached as Interpreter, who owing to the heavy losses amongst the officers voluntarily took his place in the forefront of the fighting and was severely wounded, earning the grateful thanks of all ranks and a D.S.O.
No. 1618, Naik Padamdhoj Gurung received the Indian Order of Merit for conspicuous gallantry.
The total losses of the 2nd Gurkhas on this day were seven British and four Indian officers killed and two British and two Indian officers wounded; thirty-one other ranks killed and 100 wounded.
This action brings conspicuously to light the fact that even the best Indian troops in European warfare need the leading of British officers.
The 2nd Gurkhas was a regiment second to none in the Indian Army. The British officers were as good as those of any battalion in His Majesty’s armies; the Indian officers, N.C.O.’s, and men were of the best stamp of fighting men in the East, and if I had been asked I could not have selected a better fighting battalion; and after this affair my belief in them was confirmed. They had been tried in the fire and not found wanting.
I had known them since the days of the Afghan War of 1878–80, and by common consent they were acknowledged to be a first-class fighting unit. Bhurtpore, Aliwal, Sobraon, Delhi, Kabul, Tirah are their battle honours, and to these will now be added others well earned.
The 34th Poona Horse was originally raised in 1817, and had under different names served from Ghazni (1839), Meeanee, and Kushab to Afghanistan (1879–80). The Honorary Colonel was Lieut.-General H.H. the famous Maharaja Sir Partab Singh, and the ranks were filled by Rathore Rajputs, Kaimkhanis, and Punjab Musalmans. It was the first Indian Cavalry regiment of the Cavalry Brigades to be engaged in the war, and whilst it remained with the Army Corps always gave a good account of itself.