The front of the La Bassée Sector ran north and south for nearly 5000 yards, and was intersected in the centre by the Béthune—La Bassée Canal, at a point roughly three kilometres west of the town of La Bassée. The left, or Givenchy, sub-sector contained the ruins of Givenchy, once a mining village, now an important tactical point on a spur of the Aubers ridge. The right sub-sector, which included the canal and the village of Cuinchy to the south, was known as the Canal Sector. The opposing lines had been practically stationary since 1915, and here could be traced the history of trench warfare from its early and crude forms to its latest developments, as the story of the earth’s surface is revealed in strata and fossils to the geologist. The trenches and landmarks bore names familiar to very many battalions and units of the B.E.F., as, for instance, Windy Corner, Harley Street, Orchard Keep, Moat Keep, Poppy and Marie Redoubts, Death or Glory Sap, Red Dragon Crater, Mill Sap, and many others. In the reserve line—part of the “Village Line” which ran as far south as Lens—stood Cambrin, Pont Fixe, Le Plantin, Festubert, and Cailloux, all in ruins, though in Cambrin, within 2000 yards of the front line, a few civilians still clung to their homes and strove to subsist by providing light lunches and selling eggs, chocolates, and oranges to the troops. This sector was popularly known as “Egg and Chips Front.”

D.H.Q. was at Locon. One infantry brigade held each sub-sector and the third was in Divisional Reserve, with a system of reliefs described by an appreciative officer as “beautiful and soothing in its clockwork regularity.” The villages of Beuvry, Le Preol, Essars, Le Quesnoy, Gorre, and Oblinghem provided some of the best billets the Division experienced in France or Belgium, and the comparatively large town of Béthune was near enough to offer its considerable attractions to the troops in reserve. Béthune and its inhabitants had always enjoyed an admirable reputation among officers and men of the B.E.F., and when the Division first entered this area the town was not seriously damaged. At a later date, however, it suffered so severely from aircraft bombing and a long-range gun that many of its inhabitants were forced to leave; and a company of the 8th Manchesters on its way from the front to its billets in the vicinity of the town was surprised by a low-flying plane, which dropped a bomb that killed or wounded nearly half the company. By the end of the year 1917 Béthune was like a city of the dead.

Though the phrase “nothing to report” occurred with unvarying monotony during the Division’s sojourn in this region, and though the experiences here seem to have had little in common with those of the closing stages of the war, it was in the Béthune—La Bassée area that the 42nd Division was raised to its highest standard of efficiency, esprit-de-corps, and enthusiasm, and that it received training and inspiration to accomplish the deeds by which it won distinction in the great battles of 1918, and helped to break the iron might of the German armies and bring about the final triumph.

The trench system here was “Bairnsfather-land” pure and simple. The very names conjure up vivid pictures—the trenches deep in melting snow; No Man’s Land, with its almost continuous line of craters, full of stagnant, green, stinking water, the sides of crumbling earth and slimy mud converting them into death-traps for night-patrols; the front line with its saps—eerie and lonely posts for the sentries who kept watch. As in the leading case of the Curate’s Egg, some parts were better than others. South of the Brickstacks, and south of the La Bassée—Béthune road, for instance, the accommodation in dugouts and tunnels was quite comfortable. Company Headquarters there were sometimes mistaken by delighted visiting Brigadiers for public picture-galleries, so elaborately were they decorated with illustrations from La Vie Parisienne and kindred works. But north of the canal the water-level was only a few feet below the surface, and the “trenches” were little more than parapets of turf and sandbag breastworks. They had been made at a time when little thought was given to “batter” and “berm,” and, under the influence of rain, frost, and thaw, shell fire and trench-mortar fire, duckboards had disappeared under pits of mud, and walls had collapsed and blocked the trenches in a tangle of wood, rabbit-netting, and mud. It seemed enough to ask a man merely to keep alive in the awful discomfort of the trenches in winter, and under such conditions to carry on the offensive and defensive work of the garrison. But far more than this was demanded, for there was no end to the work of maintaining existing defences and constructing a new system. Give the infantryman a rifle and bombs, and point out where and how he can use them, and his inevitable grouse is no more than the Englishman’s traditional method of disguising his real cheerfulness. But hand him a spade or barbed wire and stakes, and ask him to dig, or erect “apron” fences, and he ceases to be his old cheerful self. However nicely the detested term “working party” may be camouflaged, nothing will ever reconcile him to fatigues, and it must be remembered that he was attired for war, not for manual labour. The impedimenta he carried, including the box respirator strapped across his chest in the “alert” position, placed him under a heavy handicap. Yet he does the work—no soldier better! He loathed it, but he put his back into it, and found matter for facetious comment in his own and his chum’s personal appearance. For the leather jerkin which had been issued when the frost came had now been supplemented by a pair of “boots, gum, thigh,” and he looked like a Yarmouth fisherman in a tin hat.

In this sector sick and wounded were generally conveyed to the Base Hospitals by the Inland Water Transport’s comfortable hospital barges. This was a mode of transport much preferred to the alternative of conveyance over bumpy roads. One badly-wounded man, on being put aboard one of the barges, expressed the hope that there were no shell-holes in La Bassée Canal, as he would hate to be bumped. The men in the trenches regarded the “bargees” with some envy, and inquiries were made as to the qualifications necessary to obtain this coveted job.

An extensive scheme of concrete shelter construction was taken in hand by the engineers, especially in the support line, known as the Village Line. Owing to the presence of water a few feet below the ground level, tunnelled dug-outs were seldom practicable, so a system of 5·9-shell-proof, ferro-concrete structures was begun. The Brigade in rest-billets supplied working-parties, and some idea of the amount of labour required is shown in the records of the 428 Field Company, where the number of man-loads of material used in the making of these shelters for one brigade front alone is given as follows—

each averaging 60 lb. in weight, a quite sufficient load for a man to carry over a mile of trench duckboards on a slippery day in winter. A pioneer battalion (three companies) was lent by the 55th Division, one pioneer company and one field company being with each infantry brigade in line, the remaining pioneer company working in back areas under the orders of the C.R.E. By some men duty in the line was preferred to any other form of employment. A batman from rear headquarters was returned to duty for some misdemeanour. Being seen in the line a few days later looking particularly fit and cheerful, he was asked how he liked the change. “It’s a cinch!” he replied. “Keep your buttons clean and call the C.S.M. ‘Sir,’ and it’s a soft job.”

Though there were no infantry operations beyond occasional raids, the trench warfare was not lacking in incident, and snipers and patrols were active. Here the enemy snipers gave little trouble, and our patrols, of which several went out nightly from each front-line battalion, rarely encountered the enemy in No Man’s Land, where British mastery was tacitly admitted. Particular attention was paid to the systematic collection of intelligence by patrols, and a standard form of patrol report was introduced, and was incorporated later in the 42nd Division Pocket Book. Gas projectiles were freely used by the enemy, and on the first occasion these caused heavy casualties. But this incident gave the 10th Manchesters the opportunity to show their grit and tenacity. They seized the chance with both hands, and grievous as was the loss sustained, the story of the night of December 10 is one that Oldham men look back upon with pride. The battalion had only been in the front line for an hour or two when the enemy, knowing that a relief had just taken place, bombarded their trenches with gas-drums preliminary to an attack. Practically every man in Red Dragon Crater, occupied by men of “C” Company, was affected by the poison-gas, and most were out of action when the Germans attacked. But though choking, blinded, and reeling—and well aware from lectures on the subject that exertion under such circumstances is likely to be fatal—every man who could stand made for the parapet, and with bombs, rifles, and Lewis guns put up a memorable fight, one after another sinking back into the trench to die from the poison. But they held their post and beat the Boche, and every man who took part merited recognition. Private Walter Mills, realizing the deadly nature of the gas and the danger of the post being lost, sprang at once to the top of the trench, and fought magnificently to save the situation. Though suffering acutely from the gassing, he remained there, throwing bombs and beating off the attack, and fell back to die just as victory was assured. He was selected for the posthumous award of the V.C., and four other men of the company received the Military Medal.

A snowstorm in December was followed by a frost of more than a fortnight’s duration. When the sudden thaw came, with torrents of rain, the old trenches collapsed in many cases and were almost waist-deep in mud and water. Huge craters, due to former mining and counter-mining activity, abounded in the sector, and these were waterlogged, as was most of this marshy region, and the work of the night patrols was rendered still more difficult and exciting. Every available man was put to work, and the 55th Division lent their pioneer battalion and a field company.

Christmas arrived before the thaw, and, with twenty degrees of frost, the weather was appropriate to the occasion, and the blood tingled as it ought to do. The festival was celebrated by each unit on the date most convenient to itself, so the festivities continued well into January. Quartermasters had become expert in buying pigs “on the hoof” and fattening them. Béthune yielded oranges, apples, and nuts, and even beer at a price. Rations were supplemented lavishly from canteen funds, and there was no lack of cash, for it was intended that the men should have a good time. Mess-rooms were gay with garlands and bunting; dangers and hardships were forgotten, and the troops gave themselves over to merriment and good-fellowship. During the entertainment that followed one of the Christmas dinners an officer, much impressed by the radiant happiness, physical fitness, and morale, remarked: “I wonder what the parents would think if miraculously transported into this room? They would imagine that being at the front is regarded as the most glorious fun in the world, and that their boys are having the time of their lives.”

The pantomime, Cinderella, given by Th’ Lads, under the direction of Major Maude, D.A.A.G., Captain Webster, R.A.M.C., and Captain Makin, 9th Manchesters, drew large and enthusiastic houses, and richly deserved its popularity, the acting, staging and dresses being remarkably good. It was held at Le Quesnoy, within range of the enemy’s field-guns, and parties of officers and men were taken by motor-lorry from their billets in adjacent villages. In addition, each unit organized concerts and entertainments, and the 7th Manchesters were specially prominent in this respect, Major Hurst’s delightfully funny sketch “Gwendolen de Vere of Greenheys Lane” being hugely enjoyed. Each Brigade or unit had its favourite songs and its own peculiar jokes, many of which were incomprehensible to the outsider. Perhaps none was quite so esoteric as the weird Lament of the 10th Manchesters, known in three continents and many countries as “On Owdham Edge beaut ’at” (sung to an old Methodist tune combining swing and solemnity), wherein the gruesome fate of the lad who, without head-covering, courts Mary Jane upon that eminence is foreseen by the fond parent in a way that vies with Darwin’s logic in tracing the super-excellence of the roast beef of Old England (pre-war) to the prevalence of old maids in rural districts, via cats, mice, honey-bees, and clover. First a cold, then death, burial, eaten by worms, worms devoured by ducks, which in turn appear upon the family dinner-table. “Then we’s soon be ettin’ thee,” begins the last verse of this lugubrious but fascinating lyric. No doubt it recalled the loved, if unlovely, streets and mills of Chadderton, Mumps, Glodwick and Hollinwood, and visions of home and of potato-pie. A young “roughyed” who had taken a Blighty one at Nieuport got home-leave from a South of England hospital just after Christmas. “Eh, lad, but aw’m glad to see thi agen,” was his mother’s greeting. “Did they feed thi well?” “Feed me, mother! I’ve never ’ad such feedin’ in aw me life as this Christmas. ’am an’ eggs for breekfast, turkey an’ sossidges, plum-puddin’ an’ mince-pies for dinner. Cakes an’ grapes an’ apples an’ oranges as much as we could put away. Then yesterday we wur taken to a big house for dinner, and ’ad it all o’er agen, an’ other things too.” “Eh, lad, but they’ve done thi well!” “Aye, everything we could want—except one thing, mother, as I’m fair longin’ for, and that’s a gradely tater-pie.” “That’s aw reet, lad! There’s one a-waitin’ for thi i’ th’ oven, Aw knowed as they wouldna be feedin’ thi proper.”

The social life played an important part in developing and stimulating the morale of the Division. New drafts to replace casualties had first to acquire the esprit de corps of the Unit, and then of the Brigade and Division; and the hearty fellowship and jollity shown by all ranks at Christmastide had a distinct military value. The 42nd had again become one of the happiest of divisions, and good comradeship prevailed from top to bottom, whether in the line, where danger and hardship were cheerfully accepted as part of the day’s work, or in billets, where care was cast aside. To take one instance, who can forget “Harley Street” after dusk? Within rifle range of the enemy, and under observation in the daytime, it would hardly seem the place in which to congregate. With divisional baths and a reading and recreation room in full swing, the street was a crowded thoroughfare, and when night fell limbers and wagons passed through in an unending stream. Men lounged in the doorways of ruined houses, smoking, passing remarks on things in general and critical comments on drivers and animals. The air hummed with the buzz of conversation, broken now and again by snatches of popular ditties from gatherings of convivial souls. The spirit of good-humour was passed on to the folk at home. A machine-gunner had been punished by his officer, and, knowing that the same officer would have to read the letter in his capacity as censor, he wrote to his mother: “We have got a new Section Officer, such a nice fellow. We get on splendidly together, and he thinks me so capable that he has got me the job of cleaning pack-saddles this week.”

The strength of the Division on January 1, 1918, was 732 officers and 14,314 other ranks. On January 14 Major-General Townsley, of the American Army, with his Chief of Staff and A.D.C., was attached to the Division for ten days. On the 22nd the campaign on behalf of St. Dunstan’s Hostel for blinded soldiers was closed. £775 had been raised in the Division, this amount being £130 more than had been raised by any other division of the 1st Corps.

The Divisional Artillery, which covered the whole of the front, had far more fighting than the infantry. The policy was one of “Offensive-Defensive.” The enemy’s guns, and above all his trench-mortars, were very active, and long acquaintance with this sector enabled him accurately to register the targets he periodically engaged. His “minnies” were the pet aversion of the men in the trenches. But here the Germans had not the advantage they possessed at Lombartzyde, and punishment was meted out to them. As a counter-measure a standing order was issued that for every T.M. shell fired by the enemy he must receive five in return, and with the exception of the few occasions when prevented by limitation of ammunition, all T.M. crews loyally and gladly carried out the order. Good use was made of the Punishment Fire scheme inaugurated in the Nieuport sector. A selection, carefully based on all available intelligence, was made of those targets which would cause the enemy the most immediate damage and inconvenience. These were registered, and when the enemy shell fire exceeded what was considered the limit of normal harassing, prompt and effective retribution was dealt out to him by guns of all calibres from the 15-inch howitzers to the 18-pounder field-guns.

Of the three machine-gun companies of the Division—the fourth arrived in February—two and a half companies were in action covering the front. A few of their guns fired indirect S.O.S. barrages, and the remainder were sighted for direct fire in carefully chosen positions distributed in depth. Every inch of ground over which the enemy must advance was swept by machine-gun fire, direct or indirect, frontal or flanking. To take two examples only—the ground from the canal at Death or Glory Sap up to and beyond Red Dragon Crater was swept by the direct flanking fire of two guns cunningly emplaced in the railway embankment on the south side of the canal; and the northern face of the bastion of Givenchy was swept by the indirect fire of four guns near Festubert Keep. In addition to their defensive duties the machine-gun companies carried out day and night harassing programmes.

A brief reference must be made to the work of the 179th Tunnelling Company, R.E., in the right sector. Most of their heavy work, such as the construction of tunnelled dug-outs and emplacements, and the maintenance of infantry sub-ways, proceeded unseen by the men of other arms, for the entrances to the deep-mining system were closed to the curious. The strata in which mining operations were possible had become so honeycombed with galleries and listening-saps that no new offensive mining could be undertaken without instant detection. The methods of keeping touch with enemy activities were full of interest. In a little chamber off the main gallery a man sat in front of a board on which was a plan of the mine system. A telephone receiver was fixed over his ears. By inserting a plug into the board at any of the sapheads he could listen by a microphone to the enemy’s subterranean activities in the vicinity of this particular sap. A pump at work in an adjacent trench, an enemy miner patrolling the gallery or tiptoeing to an adjacent saphead—even such sounds as these could be detected with uncanny distinctness.

The system of holding the line by tactical localities and immediate counter-attack, which afterwards proved so successful as compared with continuous line, was made the subject of strenuous training. The reorganization was planned with the double object of reducing the number of men required to garrison the trenches, and at the same time of strengthening the defence by a series of self-contained, mutually supporting localities, disposed in depth and connected, so far as possible, by underground, shell-proof passages, with wire-entanglements so sited as to bring an approaching enemy under the fire of these localities. The term “locality” is used to denote an area of ground of tactical importance which is organized for defence in depth to form a centre of resistance. The guiding principle is that its front and flanks should be held by infantry posts and machine-guns while reserves are kept in hand ready for counter-attack within the locality. A large number of concrete machine-gun emplacements, command posts, etc., were constructed, and as there was no adequate system of light railways or tramways serving the front, a heavy strain was thrown upon the transport in bringing up R.E. material alone. The value of this work was seen later during the German offensive on the Lys in April, 1918, the sector being then held by the 55th (West Lancashire Territorial) Division. Major-General Jeudwine, commanding the 55th Division, in a letter to Major-General Solly-Flood, stated that the work of the East Lancashires had greatly assisted the West Lancashires to defeat the onslaughts of the enemy—and thus hold inviolate that most important tactical feature, Givenchy—and that he had pleasure in acknowledging the debt they owed to their predecessors.

There were raids on both sides, but while those of the enemy revealed a lack of determination and of the true offensive spirit, ours were entered upon and carried through with zest. In the southern sector the Germans were particularly inactive, but the Division opposite Givenchy showed rather more enterprise.[11] Twice they attempted to raid “J” and “K” saps, and on the first occasion succeeded in entering our trenches, only to be promptly ejected. Other attempts further north were equally futile. On the British side the raids provided welcome breaks in the monotony of trench routine. The most important raid by our troops took place on February 11 in the left sector, opposite Festubert. The artillery put down a “box” barrage, enclosing an area by three walls of bursting shells, and Captain D. B. Stephenson, with two other officers and ninety-seven men of the 9th Manchesters and an officer and six sappers of the 429 Field Company, went “over the top” in two waves. In places the wire had been imperfectly cut, so men lay flat on the “concertinas” to keep the wire down while their comrades scrambled across. As the barrage enclosed the enemy within the “box,” they could not get away nor could reinforcements reach them, so they had no choice but to fight man to man, and at this the Germans were no match for the Ashton men. At least twenty-five were killed, seven prisoners and two machine-guns were secured, and the sappers blew up three enemy dug-outs with gun-cotton. It was a good night’s work, carried out with great dash.

On the following night, Lieutenant A. Elliott, 7th L.F., with Sergeant T. Gerrard, Corporal J. Phipps, and two men, reconnoitred a mineshaft situated well within the enemy’s lines, near the Brickstacks. After exploring the tunnel he left a guard over it and went back for a demolition party, returning with an officer and three men of a tunnelling company and seven Fusiliers carrying explosive. Elliott helped the tunnellers to lay the charge, and then sent back all the men except Phipps, who remained with him to guard the entrance while the tunnelling officer lit the fuse. The mineshaft was completely destroyed and the whole party returned in safety. Elliott and the two N.C.O.s had been associated in two night adventures on February 1-3, in the course of which they discovered the mineshaft and explored the tunnelling system for 150 yards. Afterwards they located and bombed an enemy post, inflicting casualties.

On February 15 the Division was relieved by the 55th Division and withdrawn to 1st Corps Reserve in the Busnes—Burbure—Fouquieres area, with D.H.G. first at Hinges and later at Labouvriere. The divisional artillery were relieved a few days later, but the pioneers and the sappers remained at work in the line during the whole of the Division’s period of rest. The billets in the rest-area were good, sports were encouraged, and concerts held in the local halls. Training was carried on vigorously. Suitable ground for musketry and field work existed in the divisional area, and full use was made of it. The training always had in view open and semi-open warfare, and it included the hasty occupation of defensive positions in depth, counter-attacks on small and large scales, the use of ground for manœuvre, and of different weapons in attacks on strong points. This training proved most valuable in the operations following upon the enemy offensive in March. The Division also provided large working parties for work on the rear lines of defence within the Corps area.

Shortly before the Division was relieved it had received its pioneer battalion, the 1/7th Northumberland Fusiliers, transferred from the 50th Division. This battalion, commanded by Lieut.-Colonel Liddell, D.S.O., had been given little time to carry out its reorganization from a four-company infantry battalion to a three-company pioneer battalion before being set to work on the 1st Corps defences. The territorial spirit is strong, and the Northumberland men did not conceal their chagrin at having to leave the division in which they had won renown at High Wood and elsewhere, but they soon threw themselves into the work and play of their new division with such zeal that they rapidly won popularity and a reputation for great courage and efficiency. Their work was of the greatest value to the Division, both when resisting the German onrush, and no less when the tide turned. They also showed much prowess in all games and sports.

A more extensive reorganization had now to be made. So great had been the drain upon the man-power of the empire that it had become necessary to reduce the establishment of infantry brigades from four to three battalions. A number of officers and men of the 6th Lancashire Fusiliers, the 4th East Lancashires, and the 9th Manchesters were posted to other battalions of the Division, and the remainder transferred to the 66th Division. As the 126th Brigade thereby lost two battalions, the 8th Manchesters were transferred to it from the 127th Brigade. The brigades were then made up as follows—

The 125th Brigade—

• 1/5th Battalion Lancashire Fusiliers
• 1/7th ” ” ”
• 1/8th ” ” ”

The 126th Brigade—

• 1/5th Battalion East Lancashire Regiment
• 1/8th ” Manchester Regiment
• 1/10th ” ” ”

The 127th Brigade—

• 1/5th Battalion Manchester Regiment
• 1/6th ” ” ”
• 1/7th ” ” ”

As most of the battalions were all considerably below strength they received as reinforcements three battalions (less Commanding Officers, Adjutants, and Quartermasters) from the 66th Division—the 3/5th Lancashire Fusiliers, the 2/8th Manchesters, and the 2/10th Manchesters—which were divided among the nine battalions. The departure of three battalions which for three and a half years had shared in the labours, dangers, and honours of the Division was a matter of deep regret both for those who left and those who remained, but there was some consolation in the thought that they now formed part of the sister-division, and would thenceforward fight side by side with the second-line battalions of their own units. The four separate machine-gun companies were now reorganized as a machine-gun battalion, one company being with each infantry brigade, and one in Divisional Reserve. There were also changes in the trench-mortar batteries. V/42, 9·2-inch T.M. Battery had been left in the La Bassée sector. X/42 and Y/42, 6-inch T.M. batteries were transformed into six-gun batteries, Z/42 being divided between them. The departure of the C.R.E., Lieut.-Colonel D. S. MacInnes, C.M.G., D.S.O., to become Deputy Engineer-in-Chief at G.H.Q., caused general regret. Few men of the Division had so thorough a knowledge of the front line, and whenever any particularly difficult and dangerous work was in hand, he would be there by day or by night to assist, and especially to encourage. Another of the best-known figures in the Division, the A.D.M.S., Colonel T. P. Jones, C.M.G., had left, and had been succeeded by Colonel W. R. Matthews, D.S.O., who maintained the R.A.M.C. in the highly efficient state to which it had been brought by Colonel Jones and his subordinates, and the Division soon had reason to congratulate itself upon the appointment. In January, too, Lieut.-Colonel R. F. Guy, D.S.O., had been appointed G.S.O. 1. A hard worker, he backed up his chief with loyalty and energy, and soon gained the entire confidence of the Brigadiers and C.O.s.

The Divisional Reception Camp at Allouagne was proving very valuable as a training centre, and even casuals passing through from hospital or other leave were given a brief refresher in musketry and gas training, and a general smartening up. That instruction in “General Knowledge” was needed by some of the newer drafts is shown by the following true story, which is also a tribute to the energy and activity of the A.A. and Q.M.G. of the Division. An N.C.O., at the close of an hour’s instruction in a barn at Le Quesnoy, asked one or two general questions—

Instructor. “Who commands the battalion?” (Correctly answered.) “Who commands the battalion when the colonel is away?”

A Voice (after an interval of silence). “Sergeant-Major —”

Instructor. “Wrong.”

Another Voice. “Colonel Slaughter.”

Instructor. “Wrong again. Major X. commands in the colonel’s absence. Now, who commands the Brigade?”

Several Voices. “Colonel Slaughter!”

Instructor. “Wrong. It is commanded by General Henley. Now, who commands the Division?”

Loud Chorus. “Solly-Flood.”

Instructor. “Right. Who commands the Division if the General is away.”

Full Chorus. “Colonel Slaughter!!”

About this period a violent attack of mange among the R.E. horses carried off eighty per cent. of one field company’s animals. Stringent orders were given to prevent its spread, and the drivers were separated into two lots, one to look after the infected horses, the other to guard those which had not yet developed symptoms. All the clothing was stoved, and for one day drivers had to do their best to keep warm in their shirts and pretend that they were “Jocks.” The Divisional Commander was always pleased to see the transport men on terms of intimacy and affection with their animals, and he frequently asked the names of the horses. One day he heard a driver address his mare as “Phœbe,” and remembered that the man had recently assured him that its name was “Dolly.” He pointed this out, whereupon the driver explained that in the meantime he had changed his girl.

Though it is always gratifying to come across men thoroughly devoted to duty and conscientious in its performance, enthusiasm may be carried to extremes. Two worthy men on the pioneer staff of their battalion were detailed to superintend a foot-bath, and being very conscientious, they determined that no foot-bath in the B.E.F. should have a better record. Each day they proudly reported the number of men who had used the bath, and the average was high. But for some reason numbers began to dwindle, so the pioneers resorted to the expedient of seizing passers-by and compelling them to wash their feet. The average went up again until on one unhappy day they grabbed three of the adjutant’s runners.

The coming event was already casting its threatening shadow before it. The feeling was in the air that the Germans were preparing for the mightiest of all their amazing military efforts, and as one could only conjecture where the heaviest blows would fall, the whole army was on the alert. The 42nd Division was in a state of readiness to reinforce any part of the 1st Corps front should the necessity arise. In addition, one infantry brigade and machine-gun company were warned to move at short notice by motor-bus and route-march to reinforce the Portuguese[12] on the immediate left of the Corps. On the night of February 25-26 the Portuguese trenches were heavily bombarded, and in the early morning the 126th Brigade moved to its supporting positions in the area around Vieux Chapelle and La Couture, arriving at 10 a.m. However, nothing more serious than a raid was attempted, and in the afternoon the Brigade was withdrawn.

The Divisional Artillery came out of action for a period of training near Choques, and on March 1 the Division passed from Corps into G.H.Q. Reserve. The Divisional Commander availed himself of the opportunity to deliver to officers and N.C.O.s a lecture the purport of which is expressed with admirable terseness in its title, “Wits and Guts.” The General gave a vivid picture of the fighting of 1914, and foretold that it was highly probable that the Division before long might find itself similarly situated, and would then have the opportunity to emulate the deeds of the “Old Contemptibles.” The lecture was given to every officer and N.C.O. of each infantry and artillery brigade, and to other units in turn, and a précis was afterwards issued in the Foreword to the Divisional Pocket Book. It was in the course of this address that Major-General Solly-Flood gave the Division its motto, “Go One Better,” a motto adopted with enthusiasm by all ranks as a very real expression of the spirit that inspired the Division.

The training during February and March included some keenly contested and most useful competitions. The basis of training and sport was the platoon. The spirit of the attack was the platoon. There were platoon efficiency competitions, from guard mounting and clean turn-out to contests of skill with all weapons; platoon boxing, football, cricket, sing-songs, and similar rivalries, and also transport competitions. In this way every individual had to take part, and none looked on all the time. There were other interests, too. Larks were singing, and though the wanton lapwing was not in evidence, the fuller “crimson” was showing on the robin’s breast—in short, spring was in the air, and more than one young man’s fancy lightly turned to thoughts of love, and the French maidens were not coy. The rather hazy notions that had been entertained of the French as a light-hearted, frivolous race had been turned inside out. True, they had seen little or nothing of French males under fifty-five years of age, but they had discovered that French women and girls were the most practical, shrewd, clear-headed, and capable in the world. Young girls and middle-aged and elderly women were combining the heavy farm-work of men—and doing it well!—with the house-work of the capable house-wife, the art and craft of the trained milliner and dressmaker, and a mastery of finance worthy of a chartered accountant. The rapid and facile mental arithmetic displayed by girls in “totting up” the sum total of a complicated series of purchases in one lightning utterance, apparently composed entirely of sibillants that reminded the audience of “Sister Susie’s sewing shirts,” took the breath away and compelled admiration. Nor was the admiration wholly one-sided. The Lancashire lad was pronounced gentil and aimable. He would fetch and carry, amuse the children, mind the baby, and perform a hundred and one odd jobs to help the overworked women, and many friendships were formed. But training, sports, and dallying were rudely interrupted by the call received on March 21, when, at about 6 p.m., warning orders were received that the Division might be suddenly called upon to move southwards into action. The warning was emphasized on the night of the 21st by a terrific bombardment by German aircraft of all back areas, railheads and junctions.

The great German offensive had begun. On the morning of March 23 the Division started to join the 6th Corps, Third Army, in the Somme area, the infantry, R.E., and R.A.M.C. personnel proceeding in motor-lorry and ’bus, the artillery and transport by road.

Total strength of 42nd Division, March 1, 1918—