CHAPTER III

THE CALL OF THE MOTHERLAND

" Uncle, what are you going to do with that gun?"

I turned around to discover my little niece, who had noiselessly entered my den just as I had removed from the wall a Mauser rifle, a souvenir of former campaigns in South Africa. My reply to her was in these few words: "I am going to 'Hunt the Hun,' for England has declared war against Germany."

As I replaced the rifle on the wall, memories of my previous campaigns arose before me and the chance of going on active service appealed to me strongly.

When war broke out between England and Germany, I was living in Toronto, Canada, and was at that time an officer in an irregular corps known by the name of the Legion of Frontiersmen. The men composing the corps were chiefly veterans of other wars and ex-soldiers. All were of the true fighting stock and each was imbued with the sole idea of doing his bit for king and country.

When I reached our district headquarters that same evening, I met a determined lot of Britishers all eager to answer the call that we knew would come from the Motherland. We held a meeting to discuss ways and means and how we could best assist the mother country. We decided that we should cable over at once to our commanding officer, Col. Driscoll, in London, England. Col. Driscoll was the organiser and commanding officer of the Driscoll Scouts in the Boer War. He had organised some 80,000 frontiersmen all over the British Empire. In response to our cable, we had a reply from him in which he informed us that we would have to go as infantry. The frontiersmen were trained as cavalry, so we were a rather disappointed lot that we could not go as mounted troops.

We therefore had to break away from the old organisation. I offered myself and my men to Major General Sir Sam Hughes, who advised us to join the Canadian Militia. This we did, and later on I received my commission and at once began to drill and train the men as infantry. This was not a difficult task, as nearly all of them had previous experience.

Eventually we were warned for overseas, but to my great disappointment, I was held back to do further recruiting two days before sailing. I at once began to recruit all over again, and my new battalion furnished me with a few amusing little incidents.

The men of this new battalion were a splendid lot taken from all walks of life, but each full of the one idea—doing his bit for King and Country. With such a gathering of men, you will always find some very keen wits.

I had occasion to remember one young fellow in particular named Duffy. He was a very green recruit, and while on guard duty for the first time, I happened to be passing his post. He stopped me and said, "Are you one of those fellows I have to salute?" To this question I replied "Yes." Then he wanted to know why he had to salute me!

I gave him the desired information and passed on. I could see that he was going to be an amusing character, and I had not long to wait before I found this to be true. He was paraded before me one morning by the sergeant. When I asked Duffy to state his business, he told me that he wanted to give in his resignation, as he had changed his mind about soldiering and he thought it only fair to give us a week's notice in order that we could get a man for his place. He was very much surprised to learn that he could not resign unless the medical officer would certify him as being unfit. After this I noticed he was very often on the sick list.

One morning just as we were about to commence a long hike, he was again paraded to me by an N.C.O. I asked him what he wanted this time, and he replied with a very pitiable expression on his face: "Sir, I want you to put me on fatigue work, I don't care how hard it is." I asked him why he wanted to do this fatigue work, as Tommy generally does not like this, and he replied, "Sir, I had a dream last night that if I went up a certain hill, which we had to climb on this march, I would drop dead."

My reply to Duffy was, "Well, we'll take a chance on it." So Duffy had to go on the route march.

The same evening there was a baseball match on the camp grounds. To my amazement I saw Duffy playing with the team. He was running and shouting as if his very life depended upon the outcome. When I had an opportunity to speak to him, I said, "Well, Duffy, how about that dream? I thought you would be a dead man by now, but I see that you are very much alive." He replied, "Yes, sir, I came out better than I expected." However, Duffy has climbed over more obstacles than a hill since then, and is now the proud possessor of a D.C.M.

A short time afterwards I went to Ottawa and had an interview with the ex-Minister of Militia, Major-General Sir Sam Hughes, with whom I had served in the same brigade in the South African War. I asked him to allow me to proceed overseas with a view of transferring to the Imperial Army. It was characteristic of the Minister to ask me when I wanted to go, and I answered him, "As soon as possible, sir." He then said, "Are you ready to leave to-morrow night?" I told him that I could not leave to-morrow night, but could leave in one week's time. I received the necessary documents, and a week from that date sailed from Montreal on the S.S. Metagama. There were 81 officers and 3,000 rank and file on board. The voyage was enlivened by the music of the battalion bands.

The trip across was also made interesting by boat and other drills. After our first boat drill, as I was an unattached officer, I was shown the place on the deck where, in the event of our being torpedoed, I was to take up my position. As we neared the danger zone, everyone was keenly on the lookout for the terror of the seas—the submarine.

It was with a great sigh of relief that we perceived our escorts, two small torpedo destroyers, steaming in our direction. They were soon circling around us, and from that time onward everyone on board carried life belts around with them, ready to put on at a moment's notice. It was not long before we sighted land, and later on we docked at Plymouth. The same evening I was in London, and was an eyewitness that night of a Zeppelin raid.

Few people on this side of the Atlantic realise the nature of a Zeppelin raid.

I can scarcely describe the horror I felt as the bombs began to descend on their errand of destruction and murder. The searchlights began to hunt the air for signs of the airships, and soon we heard the sharp reports of our anti-aircraft guns along the Thames and also the big guns at London Bridge.

The roar of the guns was terrible, but nowhere did I see any fear shown by the populace. Children cried out, but no one could blame them for that. The streets were weirdly dark, and with the shaded street lamps and the shrill whistle of the taxis everything seemed to be mysterious.

We could not see the airships. They were so high up in the air that we could not even see a speck in the sky.

All at once the guns ceased to roar, and then the air raid was over. Casualties were few. In one house, where a number of poor people had taken shelter, the roof fell in and the building caught fire. Amongst the killed was a young clergyman who had been preaching to the people at this critical moment. At this house, the people had taken shelter in the basement, which they thought was safer than their own homes.

I was very much impressed with an old lady who kept a fish and chip shop. Her establishment had been partially destroyed. One-half of the window had been blown out and on the other half of the window was displayed a sign which read "Damn the Zeppelins. To Hell with the Kaiser. Fish and Chips as Usual." This shows the spirit of the women of Britain. You can't beat morale like that.

In this manner the Huns wage war, trying to weaken the morale of the people. If they would consider for one moment the spirit of a nation like England, who gave the dead crew of one of these destroyed Zeppelins a military funeral, they would realise that a nation which treats a dead enemy like this has a morale that can never be broken. Incidents like the foregoing make the people more determined than ever to push the war to a victorious and successful conclusion.

The morning after my arrival I called at the Canadian War Office—the Cecil Chambers, the Strand, London. I had a letter of introduction to Major General J. Carson, who was then the official representative of the Canadian War Office in England. I was there informed by Staff Captain Oulster that the General was in France, and that he, the Captain, could not tell me when he would get back. I therefore seized the opportunity to go to my home town in West Cumberland, being furnished with the necessary railway warrant. This I appreciated and needless to say I was very pleased to visit the town of my birth, although it was many years since I had left it. I still had friends there whom I was as glad to see as they were to see me. Whilst there, I had related to me the following incident:

On the west coast of Cumberland there is a small seaport town named Harrington, which is about four miles from where I was born. In this little town there are a number of blast furnaces, and adjacent to the furnaces there are some by-product works. The product made here is used, I suppose, in the making of munitions.

These by-product works had been erected several years ago by German workmen, all the foremen and managers being also German. After the work was completed many of these Germans remained in the immediate neighbourhood. Nobody at that time thought anything about it, but shortly after the war there was a rude awakening one morning. For this little town was shelled by a submarine that had penetrated up the Solway Firth with the object of destroying the by-product works. However the attack was unsuccessful.

It was discovered later on that the wife of one of our leading citizens, who was herself a German, had boasted to her maid about the cleverness of the Germans, who remembered the locality and returned to destroy these works. It was due to the good common sense displayed by this Cumberland girl, who reported the boastful German lady to the authorities, that she was interned. This set the authorities moving, and they discovered that all along the coast for many miles prominent houses had been erected within recent years. All of them were occupied and owned by Germans. It was a very simple matter for any one in these houses to signal out to sea. However, I am pleased to say short work was made of any German who was living in these houses.

Later on I was pleased to meet two fellow townsmen of mine, both of whom had won the V.C. whilst serving with the border regiment in France. Another friend of mine that I met in civilian clothes, who, I thought, should be with the colours, was a big strong looking young man. When I rather angrily asked why he was not serving, he fumbled at his throat and tried to speak, his face flushing at the same time. He then drew out of his pocket a small slate and with a slate pencil wrote on it these words, "I can't speak, Jim, the Hun gas has destroyed my throat and tongue."

He was in the first gas attack and got badly gassed, with the above result. I don't know how to describe my feelings, but I felt proud to shake his hand and the water was near to my eyes when I did so. Now each invalided soldier is given a numbered button to show that he has been on active service at the front, so that mistakes like mine no longer occur.

I also met a young officer who had been invalided from Gallipoli with wounds, two of which were rather peculiar. One bullet had entered behind his ear and traversed around his cheek, coming out just between the eye and the bridge of the nose. The other one had taken the centre of the forehead for a path. To use his phrase, the Turks had put a permanent parting in his hair.

After spending a few days at my home town, I journeyed back to London but was informed again by Staff Captain Oulster that Major General J. Carson was still in France. This was rather awkward for me, so I asked Captain Oulster if he could give me the necessary letters of introduction to take over to the British War Office. Captain Oulster furnished me with the necessary documents, which I took over.

A few days later I went before the medical officer and passed my medical examination with flying colours. Finally I was given a commission in the 12th Royal Warwicks, but before the commission had been made out friends of mine interested themselves in my behalf and I got over to France as an unattached officer.

CHAPTER IV

WE MOVE FORWARD

On the night of the 9th our Company Commander received orders to establish a strong post, which was to consist of one company. After the company had been inspected we moved out of our trench in sections about 100 yards' distance having the usual connecting files.

It was raining very hard, but this was nothing new. We had to make our way over ground that was literally a sea of mud and honeycombed with shell holes and mine craters. One of my men slipped off the lip of a mine crater and rolled down almost up to the neck in mud and water. He was a Bachelor of Science and used to have various arguments with one of the boys who hastened to his rescue. This argument had evidently consisted of the rescuer's knowledge of physiology and phrenology. Evidently the man in the crater had told in a previous argument on these subjects that the rescuer's life was half lost because he did not know anything on these subjects. I was very much surprised to hear the man detailed for rescue shouting down the crater and asking our Professor of Science if he knew anything about "Swimology" and the answer being "No," the rescuer shouted down, "Then, by jabers, the whole of your life is lost."

After getting our professor out, we moved forward until we got our position, 'way out in No Man's Land, where the men were allotted their tasks. They at once commenced to dig by connecting up the shell holes, thus making a fair trench without being exposed to the enemy fire. During the time we were digging the Huns were sending up their white flares, but as they were some distance away our party was not conspicuous. Although the Huns did not know where we were, they had the unpleasant habit of firing shells in most out of the way places. So the men never relaxed their efforts, but kept digging away for dear life, as they did not know how soon there might be a counter attack. Eventually we got our work completed. We then posted sentries and sent out a small patrol. The object of our strong post was to hold the enemy in check, and thus give sufficient time for the troops in rear to resist any counter attack that might be made by the Huns. During the night everything passed off quietly and no counter attack was attempted. The Germans had evidently had all the fight taken out of them on that eventful day.

At daybreak I served out the usual allowance of rum to each man. As every man was wet and numb with the cold, the issue of this allowance was very much appreciated. I would like to see the people that advocate doing away with the rum issue take a turn in the trenches during the cold and rainy season. I think that they would come away perfectly satisfied in their minds that the rum ration under these circumstances is essential for the welfare of the men. It is so easy for people at home who have every luxury and comfort to sit down and criticise this issue. People who have never had any hardships to endure like those the soldiers in the trenches have will tell you that tea or coffee will do equally as well, but from long experience we in the army know different. I am a temperate man myself but I found benefit from this small drop of rum. Now that I am not in the trenches I don't need it and do not take it. The same applies to the majority of our soldiers. The army does not encourage the men to drink, as the drunkard is given very drastic treatment. We have no use for him.

On the morning of the 12th of April as I looked over the recently captured battle ground, I noticed that the railway construction troops had completed building a narrow gauge railway, which ran from our forward base of supplies at La Targette as far as Thelus, a very short distance from where I stood. Little gasolene engines were busy hauling up ammunition, which they distributed to the various ammunition dumps that were located at considerable intervals alongside the track. At one time we had large ammunition dumps; but we have learned from experience that it is better to have a series of small dumps well separated, so that if a shell from the enemy explodes on the dump, as it sometimes happens, our loss is not so great. The shells are carefully laid on a wooden flooring in little groups. Between each group is a layer of sand bag partitions. From these points the shells are carried forward to the different batteries on the backs of mules.

The labour and pioneer battalions assisted by some of the infantry were filling in the shell holes and clearing the debris to make new roads for the mule trains and transports that were to bring up the supplies. Along the Lens-Arras road men were clearing away fallen trees that had been struck by the shells and lay across the road. Owing to the high elevation of the ground our men could work both night and day without being observed.

The evening of the 12th we received orders to move forward and dig a trench at a given map location some 1500 yards from where we were. I was ordered to have my platoon dig in at a certain distance in front of a high railway embankment. I carefully took my compass bearing and, after each platoon had been carefully inspected by the platoon commanders, we moved off in single file, marching at ease. We crossed the Lens-Arras road, until we arrived and halted a short distance in front of what was left of the little village of Thelus.

This little village was now a mass of ruins. Our whole brigade assembled there. At nine o'clock platoons started to move off consecutively, and when our turn arrived we proceeded towards the crest of the Ridge and passed over some of the late German trenches. As we descended beneath the crest I noticed near me a thick concrete German heavy gun emplacement. This gun and several others on the same alignment had been captured by us and we were now using them against the enemy. Our progress was extremely slow owing to the fact that on the steep slope of the ridge was a dense growth of brushwood and shell shattered trees. It would have been much easier for us to move along the Lens-Arras road which for a distance ran almost parallel to the route we were taking, but as this was under constant shell fire from the Huns it was considered advisable to take a more difficult but safer way.

When we reached the bottom of the slope we came to a series of German trenches recently evacuated by them. On my right we passed close to what I took to be the ruins of a windmill. Then we came to a high railroad embankment and, passing under a bridge, found ourselves in open country.

The Germans during this period were sending up their star shells in abundance, the outline of the trenches was plainly to be seen, searchlights were busy searching the sky for our aeroplanes, which they thought might be passing over the lines in a bombing raid.

Word was now passed along to me that our line was broken. I therefore had to halt to allow those in the rear to catch up. I had set my luminous prismatic compass and began to march on my bearing which I eventually reached. Each man was allotted his task, which consisted of digging an amount of trench equal to the length of his outstretched arms.

Owing to the difficult nature of the ground we had to march over, we lost a great deal of time. As it was within one hour of daylight, we had no time to lose to get under the necessary cover for protection from the fire of the enemy. Some of the boys had brought with them German shovels which they had obtained in the Berliner House dugout. This was an improvement on the entrenching tool that every man is supplied with. The latter, being very much smaller, is not as effective as a shovel but is much easier to carry. It did not require much persuasion on my part to impress on the minds of the boys the urgency of digging in and getting under cover before daylight.

In my platoon I had a big husky French-Canadian who was an excellent soldier. Since officers do not carry entrenching tools I asked him to dig a place for me alongside of him. The infantry Tommy as a rule likes to take his time providing he is safe, whilst on a working party, from the enemy's fire, but when he realises the seriousness of the situation he can develop a remarkable amount of speed and energy. My boys did not lack pep, speed or energy and they began to work with grim determination. I handed over my platoon to the platoon sergeant for a few minutes to see if the platoons on my right and left flanks were all right, so that we would be able to connect up our trenches during the day when we would be under cover.

When I got back to my platoon I keenly supervised the boys at their work, paying particular attention to the private who was digging a place for himself and me. During this time I had two men wounded by shrapnel. After having their wounds attended to they were carried out on a stretcher to the regimental aid post. Although their wounds must have been painful they were carried out smiling and in good spirits. We were now under cover, so I issued the boys their tot of rum and posted my sentries who, through their periscopes, were to watch for any movement on the part of the enemy.

About 8.00 A.M. we heard the sharp report of our anti-aircraft guns and observed the white puffs of smoke that the shell emitted as it burst around the German aeroplanes high up in the sky. All at once we noticed aeroplanes manœuvring in the air and observed a quick diving motion from one of them which had opened fire on the one underneath, as the latter plane fell to the ground in a mass of flames. Afterwards the victor flew back over our lines, so we knew that another Hun aviator had fallen a victim to one of our R.F.C. men.

At midnight our field guns were brought forward and began to fire from behind the railway embankment at the Hun trenches. It was not long before the Huns started to retaliate with gas shells. The slight wind that was blowing in our direction soon brought the vile fumes towards us. Without a moment's delay every one put on his gas helmet or small box respirator. We were then safe from the deadly gas fumes, but an occasional German shrapnel shell would burst over our heads. The Huns' artillery fire was principally directed against our artillery, but they could not locate them.

We were now expecting the Germans to make an attack and were all in readiness to receive them. About 5.30 A.M., after being under the gas shell bombardment for about five hours, the air gradually got clearer and each platoon officer cautiously removed his gas mask to test the air. After finding it safe, they gave orders to the men to take their gas masks off.

On April 14th the Huns had found out by their aerial service the position of our trenches, so in the afternoon they started to bracket fire our trench. That is to say, as they did not know the exact range, they observed by aeroplanes or observation balloons the effect of shells which their artillery had dropped first in front of our trench and then in the rear. Gradually working inwards, they located the trench. It certainly was an unpleasant feeling as these searching shells commenced to come nearer and nearer.

A private who had been sent up with a ration party the previous night to take the place of a man who had been wounded, was in the line for the first time. He got very excited when the Huns started to bracket fire our trench and kept running up and down from one end of the trench to the other until he was tired out. Finally he decided he would not run any more and sat down to smoke a pipe. By this time the Germans had succeeded in getting the correct range of our trench. They sent over a shell which blew the poor fellow to pieces.

Our S.O.S. signal had been sent back and the forward observation officer was now alive to the situation. It was not long before we heard the sweet music in our ears of the swish, swish of our artillery as the shells passed over our heads on their errand to the German batteries, which they soon located and silenced.

The night of the 14th we were relieved and retired to a series of dugouts situated just beneath the railway track. These dugouts had formerly been occupied by the Huns when they had held the ridge. The idea was that if the Germans should counterattack we would immediately get over the top of the railway embankment and make it our line of resistance.

The dugout occupied by our company officers had evidently been a German battalion headquarters, as it was fitted up with comfortable bunks and had in the rear a beautiful kitchen garden in which all kinds of vegetables were growing at one time. It was quite evident the Germans had been living very luxuriously. About 6:30 the next evening, while we officers were having our supper, a shell landed suddenly on the top of the railway embankment. We thought that the Germans intended shelling this point.

As we hastily rushed through the doorway into the open, each officer blowing his whistle for the men to come out of the various dugouts along the railway embankment, I noticed that a working party from the 22nd French Canadian Battalion instead of going under the bridge had passed over the embankment. The Germans had directed their fire upon this party, inflicting several casualties. They then started to shell along the embankment, killing two brigade machine gun company men in the next dugout to ours.

Later on I saw all my men located in the various shell holes. I then took up my position alongside of my batman and stretcher bearer, remaining with them until 3.00 in the morning. We were now so used to the periodical shelling that we did not pay any attention to it. We all felt like sleeping although it was exceedingly cold and rainy. Three of us huddled close to one another for warmth, the stretcher bearer lying next to me. He proved a most uncomfortable companion as he was continually trying to rub his back against the stretcher. I had my suspicions that I would soon be hunting something other than Huns.

CHAPTER V

HUNTING THE HUN

For three weeks my battalion practiced going over the tapes for an attack on the Cité St. Laurent, a suburb of Lens. The tapes were laid on the ground to represent the trenches held by the Germans. Various coloured flags were placed at the corners of the assumed streets and these were named as we would find the streets when we made our attack. The church of the town was represented by a cross made of tape. Our battalion frontage was some 300 yards, and at some places we were not more than the same distance away from the Hun trench.

In order to reach our front line trenches we had to go through an ingoing communication trench which ran partly on the outskirts of the Cité St. Pierre and through the centre of the Cité St. Edouard. We had already made a tour in the sector of the line from which we were to go "over the top." As a result of constant artillery activities on both sides we had many casualties. A great number of guns were in the Cité St. Pierre and as far up as the Cité St. Edouard. Both forces strafed incessantly.

On the morn of the 14th of August we were told that the attack was to take place on the morn of the 15th. "Zero Hour" was set for 4.20 A.M. Everyone got busy getting things ready to move. All surplus kits were returned to the quartermaster's stores. In the afternoon church service was held and an excellent sermon was preached by our battalion padre. Two hymns were sung during the service, "Onward, Christian Soldiers" and "Nearer, My God, to Thee." Everyone's taking communion closed the service.

No. 1 sections of all platoons participating in the attack were supplied with special wire cutters, which were an attachment to the rifles. That evening about seven o'clock all companies fell in on their respective parade grounds, where a thorough inspection was made by the officers. One platoon per company remained out of the line as usual. Each company commander took charge of his respective company, the seconds in command remaining out.

The Colonel gave us a little talk and said that we would be going into the attack and that our work would partly consist of village fighting. Everyone was expected to live up to the good reputation our battalion had made. He then shook hands with each officer, all officers in turn shaking hands with each other. One of my friends, when I shook hands with him, told me he was going in for the last time. He really did not expect to come out alive. I rather pooh-poohed the matter at the time and it made me feel badly for him and rather nervous. Unfortunately his presentiment came true.

As the Huns were constantly shelling our back area, we marched off the parade ground in sections at distances of 100 yards. When we arrived at the Cité St. Pierre, which had previously been captured by us, and as we passed through this Cité, where our Brigade Headquarters were established in what had been a former deep German dugout, we were told by one of the officers of Brigade Headquarters that the "Zero Hour" would be 4.20 A.M. and that we were to go "over the top" at that time.

As we followed the ingoing communicating trench, part of which ran through the middle of the street, there were houses on both sides. These the German artillery was constantly playing on, so bricks and mortar flew in all directions. The few houses that had been left standing were demolished as if they had been made of cardboard. You can well imagine that when a shell hit anywhere near a house it made things very unpleasant for those of us passing through these trenches.

The platoon officer, who had preceded me, had evidently got out of the communicating trench to see how his men were coming up from the rear. When I passed him he was lying on the sidewalk. I did not think at that time he was dangerously wounded as he waved his hand to me. I could not stop to give him any attention for, although he was my best friend, my duty was imperative and I had to lead my men onwards. I therefore shouted for the stretcher bearer from his platoon and gave the necessary instructions for his care. I regretted very much to hear that he passed away in a few hours after receiving his wound.

By the time we reached the firing line, which was directly in front of the Cité St. Edouard (also a suburb of Lens), I had eight casualties. Three men had been killed, and five wounded. The wounded had been given every attention and sent back to the rear. The leading platoon was now in charge of the platoon sergeant, a very capable man who had taken charge of the platoon whilst in practice for this attack. All the other N.C.O.'s had also been trained to do this, so that in case any platoon officer became a casualty they would be able to carry on.

As we arrived at the firing line the holding troops were "standing to" on the fire step. We could thus pass along in their rear. Guides were assigned to each platoon to show us the openings that had been made in our barbed wire so that we could then get into No Man's Land without being obliged to cut the wire. During this time the Huns were incessantly sending up their star shells and other coloured rockets.

I gave the necessary instructions to N.C.O.'s in charge of sections, and then we crawled out through the barbed wire and got into shell holes. The Huns at this time were firing "whizz bangs" and Minenwerfers at our front line, these being short ranged shells. As the German star shells illuminated the ground, I noticed that the barbed wire had not been altogether destroyed by our artillery. This was probably due to the fact of the close proximity of the two opposing lines, which prevented our artillery from concentrating its fire as they would have done if we had been further apart. It was for this reason that the No. 1 section of each platoon had been supplied with special rifle wire cutters.

At 3.45 A.M. I served the rum to the boys before "going over." It was certainly a very dangerous job, as my batman and I had to crawl from one shell hole to another to give each man his allowance. When a star shell would go up I would be exposed but would try to screen myself flat to the ground. I never wanted to appear so small in my life and I thought all the time that I must have been as huge as an elephant. I did not want to be "napooed" whilst acting as rum server, and if I had to "go west" I wanted to go fighting at the head of my men.

However, I served all out in safety and then crawled back to my shell hole. I looked at my watch and saw that it was exactly 4.00 A.M. The artillery on both sides was now less active. Dawn was just breaking; a slight mist appeared. The men had their bayonets fixed and were all ready and anxious for the signal to "go over." At 4.19 A.M. a heavy barrage was laid on our front line and rear trenches. We knew then that the Huns had anticipated our attack, and had by some means found out our "Zero Hour." We were not able to move forward until the "Zero Hour."

Exactly at 4.20 our artillery opened up, and as the shells passed over our heads to the German front line they gave us a great deal of satisfaction. At the same time mines that were previously laid beneath the German trenches were exploded and great big cones of flames shot up into the air. These pillars of fire appeared to be about twenty feet at the base and forty feet high. I would think in my estimation there would be about one hundred of these pillars of flame all along the German front support lines. We were now "over the top" and were advancing in two waves in extended order. The third wave was still in the front line trench and would remain there until our barrage lifted, when we would advance to our first objective. Then the third wave would come out.

When within 50 yards of our barrage I signalled to the men to take all possible cover, which they quickly did by getting into the shell holes. As I looked to my right I saw Lieutenant L—— at the head of what was left of his platoon. He was leading them into their position. Blood was flowing from his face and running down all over his tunic, but he was bravely carrying on. Just as he was about to slide into a shell hole with another man, who I presume was his batman, a shell landed close to them. As the dust and smoke cleared away I noticed on the ground their two dead bodies. Each one had answered his country's call. My friend's presentiment had come true!

Matters were now very exciting. The bursting of shrapnel and the crumps of large shells were exploding around us. Every man knew that his life depended upon his keeping cool. We were impatiently waiting for the barrage to lift, as we were expecting to encounter the Germans out in the open as soon as that happened.

The German is a good fighter as long as he can rub shoulders with his comrades. But when he gets to close quarters and is opposed to our men with the bayonet he seems to wilt. Our boys have no difficulty in putting him out of business then. I had a Russian in my platoon whose boast was that he personally accounted for one dozen Germans and he had notched his rifle, much against orders, twelve times. His ambition was to get another dozen in this fight. He was in the next shell hole to mine and was eagerly watching for me to give the signal to advance. When I did give it, he went along, and I had little doubt, from the look on his face, that he would get another dozen.

I had lost quite a number of men, my platoon was very much diminished, and the platoon sergeant had been killed. As our barrage lifted we advanced and made a dash into the German front line trench, to find nothing there except the mangled German bodies. We ran along the trenches, but could not find anything. By this time our moppers-up were in the trenches, so we left them to look after the dugouts and immediately clambered out and made for the German second line.

On the second line we encountered a number of Saxons. They all appeared to be terrified and put up a very feeble resistance. I afterwards learned through a prisoner that these Saxons were sent out in front to resist our advance, and that the Prussian Guards had threatened to shoot them from the rear if they showed any hesitation in going forward. They were made to act as a buffer between us and the Guards. They seemed to be quite young and boyish looking, and did not appear to have any heart for the fight.

During this time we were very much annoyed by the Hun aeroplanes which were dropping bombs and firing their machine guns upon us from above. I was glad to see two German aeroplanes brought down, for our aviators were getting busy and there were numerous battles in the air. It was not long until our boys had the air supremacy, and we were left in peace from that quarter.

As we advanced with our barrage, a German barrage of machine gun bullets played around us as well as their shells. We got into Cité St. Laurent and followed a German trench for some distance, then out again until we reached what I took to be the church, now in ruins.

We now got into a former German communication trench, called "commotion trench" for obvious reasons. There was certainly some commotion here. We had to fight our way up this trench, dodging German stick bombs and rifle grenades, walking over dead German bodies, until we reached our objective, a trench called Nun's Alley. At a certain point I established my Lewis gun section so that they could fire up a certain sector of a trench running at right angles to Nun's Alley, which was originally part of the Hun's strong line of resistance.

The battalion was so much reduced in strength that what was left of the whole battalion was required to hold the front line.

At noon the Germans retreated, but all day long their artillery as well as our own was busy. A great deal of counter battery work was going on. Shells were likewise being dropped along the sector of the German trenches we had captured from them. At dusk as we were "standing to" the Germans sent up a great number of coloured rockets, and suddenly our outpost men who had been stationed in shell holes came in with the news that the Prussian Guards were advancing in close formation on a counterattack against us. Our S.O.S. was sent up and quickly answered by our artillery. Just before their barrage opened up, we quickly jumped out of Nun's Alley trench and got into shell holes.

With the assistance from our artillery, and every machine gun and rifle playing upon the advancing hordes of Prussians in close formation, we mowed them down ruthlessly. What was left of them turned and fled.

Until the night of the 18th we held the line, and during this time we had four counter-attacks in one day. Our ration parties could not be sent out, nor could we get our rations for two days. Our iron rations were eaten by special permission from the commanding officer, and it was only on the night of the relief that we were able to obtain more food.

I noticed the Germans had built some very good and deep dugouts in Nun's Alley, but as we were liable to counterattack at any time, I did not examine them.

I was glad for the few men I had left of my platoon when the relief took place, about 1.30 the morning of the 19th. They were all keyed up to the highest pitch and keeping up on their nerves alone. They had had no sleep while they were in the attack, so after giving all information about the enemy to the platoon commander of the relief, we got on our way back to rest billets.

We did not delay and were soon marching away from the danger zone. The nervous strain began to wear off the men, although they were dropping from lack of sleep and fatigue. First one man and then another would drop out. When we were about 800 yards from our rest billets I heard a loud "hurrah! hurrah!" It came from the officers and men whose turn it had been to remain out of the line. They had come to meet us and brought along with them the Brigade Bagpipers, who immediately began to strike up "The Campbells Are Coming" and "The Cock of the North." It was wonderful, the effect this music had on the boys, who immediately began to brace up and marched in very briskly. Our efforts and success were appreciated, and it was not long until we all had a good meal that had been specially prepared for us. And after eating the same, we were soon in bed.

In the morning I heard one of the men making inquiries about my batman. I had missed him early in the fight but had been expecting him to turn up at any time. To my consternation I was informed by a man from another company that he had seen my batman's dead body in a shell hole. I regretted this news very much, as he had been like a friend to me. He had completed two years of medicine but like a great many more he had answered his country's call and gave his life for the cause.

The casualties of our battalion were four officers killed and six wounded and 260 men killed and wounded. It was a very hard fought battle but we gained and held all our objectives, inflicting terrible casualties on the Huns.

During the month of May one of our brigades made an attack on Fresnoy-en-Gohelle. It was what we call a little brigade show.

Fresnoy was three miles from Vimy station. At daylight early on May the sixth, the brigade went "over the top." The German barbed wire had all been cut by our artillery, so the Germans, anticipating the attack, met our brigade with a whole German division. This did not stop our brigade from advancing and closing with the enemy. In the little village of Fresnoy, though greatly outnumbered, they fought with the Huns for a whole day and night.

All the troops on both sides were wearing their gas helmets, and it was really a hand-to-hand struggle. Each one tried to tear the gas helmet from his opponent. A gas helmet pulled off a man meant his death, as the fumes were very thick. I later on spoke to an officer who participated in this fight and he told me of some of his experiences.

His eyesight had been rather bad previously. When he started to walk over No Man's Land, in his haste to put on his small box respirator, he lost his glasses and could not see very far in front of him. He led his men more by sense of direction than by sense of eyesight, as he could not see through his goggles without his glasses. He therefore had to go blindly along until he fell down in a shell hole, where he remained until the fumes had been dispelled. When he tried to crawl out of the shell hole German snipers in front of him made desperate attempts to pot him. However, he was fortunate enough to be allowed to remain until nearly dark, when he was located and brought back to safety. Our brigade suffered rather heavily in this attack, but we had the pleasure of inflicting a greater amount of casualties on the Germans than they had on us.

One of the most sanguinary encounters that I was ever in happened during the latter part of April. My company was doing duty in brigade support line which was a captured trench we had taken from the Germans. It was now being used by us as an observation trench. It ran along the slope of the ridge, and from it we could see the smoke coming out of the chimneys of the coal mines at Lens, about four and a quarter miles away. A splendid view of the ground occupied by the Hun could be had, as his trenches lay in front of us. One day about 4.30 P.M. we received information that the Germans were assembling in a certain sunken road with the view of making a counterattack. Our artillery had been given instructions to concentrate their fire at 5.30 P.M. upon this road. Excitement ran high in our trench and we were all anxious to be at the Huns again. Everyone that could was looking through periscopes and some peered over the top of the parapet as we eagerly waited for our artillery to commence.

At 5:30 P.M., much to our surprise, our artillery did not open up. We suspected that the Germans had by some means found out that we knew they were assembling for this counterattack and that they therefore gave up the idea.

That even at dusk we prepared to advance, but during our stay in the observation trench we had five casualties in our company. We were to occupy a lately evacuated German trench which was directly in front of our firing line. The battalions on our right and left flank also had to move up. At 10.00 P.M. we left the observation trench and were met by guides from the battalion which was then holding the sector of the front line trench that we had to pass to get to the recently evacuated German trench, now to become our front line. With my guide I led my platoon in single file for a distance of 50 yards past the firing line. All at once the Germans commenced to bombard us with gas shells. We immediately put on our gas helmets and advanced through these poisonous fumes. When we were within 200 yards of our objective the Huns put up what we call a box barrage. They had evidently been warned of our advance.

A box barrage is shell fire directed along the rear and both flanks. It hemmed us in, although the flanking fire did not harm our company, as it was too far away from us, still the fire from the rear was gradually creeping up to us, and it was a very anxious and trying time for our nerves as it came gradually towards us. I shouted out to form line in extended order and we made a rush for our objective, which we had named "Winnipeg trench." We managed to get into it in the nick of time, as the creeping barrage was almost on top of us.

I left the trenches. One officer and seven men were granted ten days' rest, I being the lucky officer. We left the trenches at midnight and went to Sains-en-Gohelle. I arrived here and found busses all ready to transport the men to the Railhead. We were conveyed to the Railhead and then entrained, detraining at Boulogne. From there we marched to Ambleteuse, a distance of ten kilometres.

Here were gathered together, I should judge, about 10,000 troops—all under canvas. Imperials, Canadians, Australians, New Zealanders and Maoris were in the camp.

There were several Y.M.C.A. marquees and during our short and pleasant rest we were entertained by some of the most celebrated actors and actresses from England who had come over to offer their services free. It was very much appreciated by us and we thanked the Y.M.C.A. for their cordiality in giving us such a pleasant time.

Ten days passed all too quickly and we entrained at Wimereau, a short distance from Ambleteuse, amidst the cheers and waving of handkerchiefs by the girls of the W.A.A.C. (Women's Army Auxiliary Corps). There are over ten battalions of these girls in France, all doing their bit at the bases.

We left Wimereau at 1.30 in the afternoon. Every car in the train was packed to full capacity. Sometimes we were travelling at the rate of about thirty miles per hour, then we would slow down to five, depending upon the grade.

We arrived at Hasebrouck about 4.30 in the afternoon. We heard the reports of exploding shells and bombs as we approached the station, and as we looked out of the windows of the train we could see the French inhabitants fleeing out of the city. The Germans were shelling and bombing the town. I could see fires here and there in the neighbourhood. Our train slowly pulled into the station and stopped. Every window was occupied by the officers and men who were anxiously looking out at the fires and the damage that had been done by the German shells and bombs.

A friend of mine whom I had met at the rest camp was in the next compartment to mine. He remarked to me that he did not mind the shelling so much if the civilian population were out of danger, and added that in his opinion he thought that we were quite safe. Suddenly a shell struck a tree not more than thirty yards away from us and a splinter glanced off and struck the railway train. I heard then the old familiar cry of "stretcher bearer," "stretcher bearer on the double," and an R.A.M.C. Sergeant came running over to our car. As I jumped out of my compartment, I went into the other one. There to my horror my friend was lying unconscious. Blood was flowing freely from all parts of his body, and as I helped to place him on the stretcher he passed away to the Great Beyond. In another car five N.C.O.'s were wounded from fragments of the same shell, so I could shake hands with myself on being fortunate to escape without injury.

CHAPTER VI

TRENCH ROUTINE

The war establishment of an infantry battalion is about 1,046 men divided into four companies. There are four platoons to a company, and four sections to a platoon.

The platoon is the smallest unit in the field. It is often said that this is a platoon or junior officers' war, and I believe this is quite true. I must mention something about the organisation of this compact little unit.

As previously stated, a platoon consists of four sections. Taking for example an average strength of 49 O.R. (other ranks), a suitable organisation would be as follows:

Platoon Headquarters:  1 Officer
1 Platoon Sergeant
1 Officer's Batman
1 Stretcher Bearer
1 Cook

No. 1 Section          1 N.C.O.
9 Riflemen
3 Snipers
1 Scout

No. 2 Section          1 N.C.O.
6 Rifle Grenadiers
3 Carriers

No. 3 Section          1 N.C.O.
2 Scouts
8 Lewis Gunners

No. 4 Section          1 N.C.O.
10 Bombers

Sometimes each section may wear a different coloured cloth armlet, so that you can tell at a glance what section a man belongs to. The platoon commander has at all times to look out for his men's comfort first—is own comfort and safety being a second consideration.

EQUIPMENT OF AN INFANTRY SOLDIER WHEN GOING "OVER THE TOP"

1 Steel Helmet which seems to him to weigh a ton when he is marching out of reach of shell fire, but when under shell fire, he thinks it is as light as a feather and he wishes it were much heavier and bigger.

1 Iron Rations. A small, white bag containing 3 hardtack biscuits, a tin of bully beef, sometimes a tin of mixed tea and sugar.

1 Small Box Respirator or gas mask, at the alert position. This is lying flat on his chest.

1 P.H. or Smoke Helmet. This is a spare gas helmet, which is out of use, but is perfectly effective, and may be used if the small box respirator is damaged.

1 Haversack. This is fastened on the back of the man. D-shaped buckles are provided on the Webb equipment to allow for this.

1 Rubber Sheet. Fastened on the outside of the haversack.

220 Rounds of Small Arm Ammunition.

2 Mills Bombs per man. Ten bombs to bombers and rifle grenadiers. The latter have grenade cups, and copper rods about 12 inches long which are screwed into the base of the Mills bomb and are fired from a rifle.

1 Ground Flare and Matches.

1 First Field Dressing.

2 Identification Discs.

1 Mess Tin.

2 Water Bottles, filled with water.

1 Jerkin.

1 Entrenching Tool and Handle.

1 Wire Cutter. Usually the riflemen have wire cutters attached to their rifle. There are about seven men supplied with wire cutters in a platoon.

1 Rifle and Bayonet.

Besides the above, during the cold and rainy weather each man takes a turn to carry the jar of rum, extra rations and bombs. Tommy is pretty well loaded down by the time he has all his equipment on him. Sometimes he may have to carry two extra bandoliers of cartridges.

There are four battalions to an infantry brigade and, like the company system, one of these four battalions in its turn is out for rest and training behind the lines. During this time the other battalions are taking their turn in the trenches.

The battalions may be in the trenches for ten days. No fixed time is allotted as we have found out by experience that the Germans somehow or other learn the night and time of our relief and they then open up their artillery upon us. Consequently when we go into the trenches, we never know how long we are going to remain there. We might make a tour of say ten days, three days in the support line, two days in the front, two days in the reserve, then back again for another three days in the front line. It all depends upon brigade headquarters staff, who order operations for relief before the battalion takes over the trenches from another unit. The relief takes place under cover of darkness.

The battalion that is relieving the one that is in the trenches is met by guides from the battalion to be relieved at a rendezvous point. There is one guide for each platoon. He conducts them separately and in single file to the part of the line that they have to occupy. Platoons are widely separated if going over open ground. As the incoming platoons enter the trench, they line up directly in the rear of the men who are to be relieved, who are "standing to" on the fire step with all their equipment on. On the command "stand down" the relief takes the place of the outgoing party.

It is usual to have one officer per company accompanied by some N.C.O.'s. One day before the relief takes place the actual conditions and situation must be ascertained. If the communication trenches are good this is often done in daylight. The trench stores are taken over by an officer who checks them up, but does not sign a receipt until the relief actually takes place.

All information of value such as the name of the opposing force, whether they are Prussians, Saxons or Bavarians, the whereabouts of their machine guns and if there was much activity shown on the part of the enemy, description of their S.O.S. signal, if known, is passed on to the relieving force.

If the enemy trenches are close to ours we may run a little narrow sap extending from our fire trench in the direction of the enemy. Great pains are taken to conceal this sap. The excavated earth is placed in sand bags and carried some distance away. At the end of this sap, which may be 3 × 4 feet, we make a cutting sufficiently large to accommodate two men. As a rule the men in this sap, or listening post, as it is commonly called, are connected with the sentry in the fire trench by a long, strong cord. Signals are pre-arranged to give silent warning of any movements on the part of the enemy.

The duties of these men are very exacting and great caution must be observed. They must listen for any underground mining or hammering on the faucet of gas drums. Consequently this is very important work and a great deal depends upon the coolness and intelligence of the men in the listening post. As the work is very nerve racking, reliefs usually take place every hour. A platoon officer may accompany such relief.

The platoon officers on duty have to make up several reports such as: weather report, showing strength and direction of the wind, and situation report, stating particulars of what may have been seen of the enemy, the number of shells fired in our direction, also any results noted from the firing of the German rocket signals. There is also a casualty report showing the number of casualties during the day. Another report is made out for the shortage of equipment, ammunition, bombs, etc.

TRENCH ORDERS

1. Duties—(a) One officer per company and one N.C.O. per platoon will always be on duty.

(b) By night the officer and N.C.O. on duty will frequently patrol the trench line, to see that the sentries are alert and to inquire whether they have any information to report about the enemy.

(c) The N.C.O. coming on duty will go around and post new sentries with the N.C.O. coming off duty.

(d) The length of each tour of duty will depend on the number of officers and N.C.O.'s available in the company. Normally, each tour should be, by night 2 hours, by day 4 hours, day commencing at morning "stand to" and night commencing at evening "stand to." In inclement weather it may be advisable to reduce the tour to 1 hour.

(e) N.C.O.'s after posting sentries will report "All correct" or otherwise to the officer on duty.

(f) The officer on duty will be responsible for sending in the reports required by battalion headquarters, unless there is anything unusual to report, when this duty will be performed by the company commander.

(g) Men will be warned for duty by the platoon N.C.O. on duty. This will be done at evening "stand to."

(h) On being detailed for duty, a man will be informed at which hours he will come on duty.

(i) When possible to do so, notice boards will be placed in each platoon's trench, on which will be pinned, daily, all orders regarding working parties, and a list of the men in the platoon, giving the time at which they will come on sentry and other duty.

(j) Except under special circumstances, such, for instance, as a sentry being killed or wounded, no sentry will be relieved by another man unless the relief is properly carried out in the presence of a N.C.O.

2. Sentries—By Night—(a) Sentries will be posted every 2 hours, except under bad weather conditions, when the length of the tour of sentry may be reduced.

(b) From evening "stand to" till morning "stand to" one sentry to every three or four bays in the fire trench will be posted. If wiring or digging parties are out in front, or listening posts are numerous, this number may be reduced.

(c) The next relief will remain within reach of the sentry.

(d) Every sentry is to be regularly posted by a N.C.O., who will explain to him his duties and the front to be watched, and ascertain that the sentry and his relief are aware of the position of the section and platoon commanders, the sentries on either side, and whether there are any patrols or working parties out in front. Should there be salients in the line, the sentry will be carefully instructed, so as to avoid any possibility of him firing toward his own trenches.

(e) By night or in places which have the reputation of being dangerous, i.e., where enemy are suspected of mining, advanced posts, etc., no man should ever be posted alone. There should be either a double sentry post, or the next relief should rest within kicking distance of the sentry.

By Day—(f) The number of sentries required depends on the proximity of the enemy's trench line and whether a good view to the front can be obtained, normally one to every four bays is sufficient.

(g) Every sentry will be provided with a periscope.

(h) Well protected "look out" posts for sentries will be built along the front trench line.

(i) Sending Out of Patrols—Patrols will never be sent out without definite orders as to what is required of them. Patrols will go via a listening post (if such exist). All listening posts will be warned of the strength of the patrol and the approximate hour of departure and return. Word will be passed quietly along the line of sentries that a patrol is out in front.

(j) As little challenging as possible will be done by sentries, and then only in a low tone of voice.

The battalion quartermaster, who usually holds the honorary rank of captain, has charge of all rations and equipment for his battalion. He is assisted in this duty by the battalion quartermaster sergeant, who in turn very often goes to battalion advance headquarters with the rations. During the daytime at battalion rear headquarters or horse lines the quartermaster supervises the distribution of the allotted quantity of rations that is required for each company. All company quartermaster sergeants being present, they in their turn see that their company's amount of rations is safely delivered to the transport officer. The transport officer at night has his small ammunition carts or transports take the rations as near to the support line as is possible, the company quartermaster sergeants going with him. From that point ration parties from the respective companies meet the company quartermaster sergeant, who sees to the proper delivery of the ration. In addition the party may have the mail, ammunition, or any shortages of equipment that may be required, after which each quartermaster sergeant reports to his company headquarters for orders.

In the trenches we often have papers only two or three days old, and the news from them is literally devoured. As this is the only means by which we can find out how the war is going on, all newspapers and periodicals are looked on with great favour in the trenches.

My sergeant reported to me when we were in the front line trench that Private Johnston had swollen feet. I went over to a shallow dugout where I found Johnston with his boots off. One foot in particular was very much swollen and blue. It had been raining hard since we were in the trenches. As we would stand down off the fire step, we would be in mud almost up to our knees. Trench knees were very prevalent at the early stages of the war. At present it is almost a crime for a man to allow himself to get it. Trench feet are caused by the extreme cold due to dampness; and not only dampness and cold, but to the inaction of the feet brought about by the heavy claying nature of the ground and the weight of the water surrounding the man's boots and legs. It was found that a warm layer of air between the foot and the outer covering was absolutely necessary if trench feet were to be avoided. An oiled silk stocking has been recommended to be placed next to the skin and looser boots and loosened puttees are considered necessary when in the trenches. At present we have long rubber boots that the boys wear when they occupy the trenches. They are considered trench stores and remain there.

A batman is chosen by an officer to act as his orderly; his duties are many, and wherever the officer goes while in the trenches his batman accompanies him. The higher the rank of the officer the easier the work for the batman and the less the risk, although there are exceptional occasions when a commanding officer takes as much risk as the junior Lieutenant under him. When a platoon officer leads his platoon "over the top" his batman goes with him; he therefore takes the same risk as the other men in the platoon, but he has several privileges that the private has not, such as: after he has attended to the requirements of his officer when out of the line he may spend the balance of his time as he deems fit, he is exempt from sentry and fatigue duties, and as a rule he has a good standing with the boys.

Whilst in the trenches, we receive reports giving us information regarding the movements on the part of the enemy, and also describing the number of shells that the enemy has fired at us and the number that we have fired in return. We also receive a communique that gives us information as to what has happened on the various sectors of the line, and also the result of any battles or raids that we have been participating in. By this we learn how we have been progressing along the whole of the frontage we have fought along.