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Somme

Page 16

by Peter Hart


  Oh, my God, the ground in front it was just like heavy rain; that was machine-gun bullets. Up above there were these great big 5.9-in shrapnel shells going off. Broomhead and I went over the top together. We walked along a bit. A terrific bang and a great black cloud of smoke above us. I felt a knock on my hip which I didn’t take much notice of. I turned round and Broomhead had gone. I walked on and I could not see a soul of any description—either in front of or behind me. I presume they got themselves tucked into shell holes. I thought, ‘Well, I’m not going on there by myself!’ I turned round and came back.41

  Private Frank Raine, 18th Battalion, Durham Light Infantry, 93rd Brigade, 3 1st Division

  As the Germans manned their front line they were left free of the threat of shell fire as the British bombardment had already lifted to new targets well behind the front line. This was unfortunate in the extreme.

  The first line all lay down and I thought they’d had different orders because we’d all been told to walk. It appears they lay down because they’d been shot and either killed or wounded. They were just mown down like corn. Our line simply went forward and the same thing happened. You were just trying to find your way in amongst the shell holes. You can imagine walking through shell-pitted ground with holes all over the place, trying to walk like that. You couldn’t even see where you were walking! When you got to the line you saw that a lot of the first line were stuck on the wire, trying to get through. We didn’t get to the German wire, I didn’t get as far as our wire. Nobody did, except just a few odd ones who got through and got as far as the German wire. The machine-gun fire was all trained on our wire. Only a few crept along. I lay down. We weren’t getting any orders at all; there was nobody to give any orders, because the officers were shot down.42

  Private Reginald Glenn, 12th Battalion, York and Lancaster Regiment, 94th Brigade, 31st Division

  One of the few that had managed to get further forward was Private Cattell. As the long lines of the infantry melted away behind him he found himself very much alone, marooned in No Man’s Land.

  I never saw another man because I went straight on to their wire and I lay there all day. It was very, very hot, a baking hot day, quite different from the previous day, it had been pouring with rain, that was the day we ought to have gone over. Well, I crept back on my belly into the trenches, about nine o’clock, well it was getting dusk. And that was that. I went to a dugout in a trench a lot further back, there were some officers there, they were surprised to see me—they didn’t think there was anybody left. I went down into a bunk and I think I slept for eighteen hours. The Germans could have walked through if they wanted, there was nobody there.43

  Private Douglas Cattell, 12th Battalion, York and Lancaster Regiment, 94th Brigade, 31st Division

  For the most part the wounded had to make their own way back to the British front line. Under the German barrage this was by no means a place of safety.

  I saw a few yards away the entrance to a dugout. I thought, ‘Well let’s see if I can get myself in there.’ So I dragged myself along to the steps of the dugout and I managed somehow to get my legs so that I was in a half-sitting, half-lying position on the steps leading down to the dugout. Suddenly the mouth of the dugout fell in and put me into a doubled up position. Some kind of a high explosive shell must have burst very, very near and upset the mouth of the dugout. I wasn’t any further hurt, I thought I’d better get myself out of this lot; a dugout’s not very safe because by then the rest of the entrance down into the dugout was blocked. So again I dragged myself out and rested a while in the open. Still nothing else hit me. This went on until the evening. I gradually dragged myself in the right direction, I’m glad to say. I passed quite a number of battalions who were going up to take our places in the firing lines. Eventually, I crawled myself to safety. Who should I see on arriving but an old college friend of mine who was nicknamed Whiskers. I shouted to him, ‘Whiskers!’ He came over and said, ‘Hello, what are you doing here?’ I told him the story. He was in the RAMC, he took charge of me, had the put on to a stretcher and conveyed to the medical centre. It took me over a week before I reached England into hospital. I was in the original state that I was in—all covered with mud and lousy.44

  Corporal Arthur Durrant, 18th Battalion, Durham Light Infantry, 93rd Brigade, 31st Division

  Just a few of these gallant men managed to reach the German front line where they were swiftly outnumbered and dealt with by the front-line garrison. Some of the 18th Durham Light Infantry reached Pendant Copse while one brave company of the 11th East Lancashires and a group of the 12th York and Lancasters, despite all the odds stacked against them, may have managed by some feat of determination to break right through and penetrate the village of Serre itself.

  Messages now began to pour in. An aeroplane reported that my men were in Serre. The corps and the division urged me to support the attack with all the force at my disposal. I was quite sure that we had not got anyone in Serre except a few prisoners, but the 93rd Brigade on my right, reported that their left had got on, whilst the 4th Division beyond them again claimed the first four lines of German trenches and were said to be bombing down our way. It was obviously necessary to attempt to get a footing in the German first trenches to assist these two attacks. The hostile barrage had eased off by now and was no longer formidable, so I ordered two companies of the 13th York and Lanes to make the attempt. I did not know that the German barrage was an observed barrage, but as soon as this fresh attack was launched down came the barrage again. One company was badly mauled, whilst the other wisely halted short of it.45

  Brigadier General Hubert Rees, Headquarters, 94th Brigade, 31st Division

  The Germans closed in around the isolated parties of men behind the German front line, cutting off all escape and they were gradually hunted down. There are no survivors’ accounts. None of these gains were held and everywhere the line stayed exactly as it was. The story of the 31st Division attempt on Serre was one of truly tragic failure that has become the symbol of everything that went wrong that day. The Pals division had suffered some 3,600 casualties.

  Meanwhile, immediately to their right the 4th Division was attacking in the gap that lay between Serre and Beaumont Hamel. This was not an attractive prospect, but the 4th Division was a regular division with a proud record. Although it had eventually been cut to ribbons as part of the original BEF in 1914, it had been patiently rebuilt with recruits from the original regimental depots and the battalions had largely succeeded in preserving their regular character.

  Although the wire had been cut and the German front line trenches severely battered by the bombardment, again their deep dugouts had survived almost unscathed. The initial thrust was made by 11th Brigade with two additional battalions supplied from 48th Division, which was acting as the VIII Corps reserve. They were intended to capture the first two German lines before the 10th and 12th Brigades leapfrogged them to continue the assault on the third line. The lack of surprise after the nearby detonation of the Hawthorn Redoubt mine coupled with the early lift of the artillery on to the German rear areas, meant that as they emerged into No Man’s Land they faced an immediate torrent of well-directed machine-gun fire from the front, augmented by sweeping enfilade fire from the Redan Ridge. At the same time the German artillery opened up, drenching No Man’s Land and the British front line with masses of exploding shells. Two communication tunnels, named Cat and Rat, had been opened up just short of the German front line and these were occupied by Lewis gun sections. Unfortunately, the Germans soon knocked out the Lewis guns and following up hard and fast with bombing parties; they overran the tunnel ends and proceeded to block the tunnels. This left no safe method of crossing No Man’s Land, which was under heavy continuous fire.

  In front of the 1/8th Warwickshires was the Heidenkopf Redoubt, part of an earlier scheme of defensive works, which protruded out from the new German front line. The position was indefensible in the event of a concerted British attack and
the Germans manned it with only a token garrison and had prepared a substantial mine with the intention of blowing the attacking British troops to smithereens once they occupied the position. Unfortunately for the Germans the mine was detonated far too soon and the 1/8th Warwickshires were able to swarm over what remained, using the chaotic shock of the explosion to advance into the neighbouring support trenches. However, the total failure of the 31st Division on their left flank doomed any hopes of exploiting this relative success. The usual German counter-attacks soon began to push in from Serre pressing hard on the mixed battalions occupying the Heidenkopf Redoubt.

  At 0930, in circumstances of considerable confusion and amidst attempts to cancel the attack, half of 10th Brigade began their planned advance from the British front line ready to push on the assault by 11th Brigade. On the left flank of their advance was Lieutenant Colyer and the rest of the men of the 2nd Royal Dublin Fusiliers. They faced a desperate situation.

  Here goes. I clamber out of the front of the deep trench by the scaling ladder, and face my platoon. I am smoking a cigarette and superficially am serene and cheerful—at least, I hope I appear so. As I give the order to advance a sudden thought occurs to me: will they all obey? This is instantly answered in the affirmative, for they all climb out of the trench, and the advance begins. We are advancing in diamond formation, Moffat’s platoon is in front, mine on the left corner of the diamond, Stobart’s on the right, while the rear platoon is led by a sergeant. So far all has gone as per programme, and there is no reason why it should not have done, for we have simply been traversing more-or-less dead ground. Now as we approach the crest of the rise, we can distinguish hostile rifle fire and shell fire much more clearly in the great pandemonium. Ah! Then the Boche haven’t all run away yet! Bullets are flying about and things aren’t so comfortable. A communication trench which we have to cross affords us temporary relief from the ordeal. We can see over the ridge now. There are the skeleton trees of Beaumont Hamel. Between is a waste of trench land which is being torn up by shell fire—we are going to have trouble I can see. ... We are on top of the ridge and under direct fire. I am trying not to mind it, but it is impossible. I am wondering unpleasantly whether I shall be killed outright or whether I shall be wounded; and if the latter, which part of me will be hit. A traversing machine gun rips up the ground just in front of us. That’s enough for me; we can’t remain in this formation, ‘Extend by sections!’ I shout. The men carry out the movement well. We have certainly practiced it enough, though we did not expect to have to use it until well past Beaumont Hamel. The Boche artillery and machine guns are terrific. The anticipation of being hit has become so agonising that I can scarcely bear it; I almost wish to God I could be hit and have done with it. I have lost some of my men. I feel an overwhelming desire to swear, to blaspheme, to shout out the wickedest oaths I can think of, but I am much too inarticulate to do anything of the kind. A shell bursts near and I feel the hot blast. It seems to the this is a ghastly failure already. A trench runs diagonally across our path. Half of my remaining men are already in it. My whole being cries out in protest against this ordeal. I am streaming with perspiration. I think I shall go mad. I am in the trench, trying to collect the rest of the men together. Where the devil have they all got to?46

  Lieutenant William Colyer, 2nd Battalion, Royal Dublin Fusiliers, 10th Brigade, 4th Division

  The 2nd Royal Dublin Fusiliers came under heavy fire from both the Ridge Redoubt on Redan Ridge and Beaumont Hamel to their right. The rehearsals in training had seemed a cakewalk and bore no resemblance to the terrifying chaos that faced them. After an abortive attempt to locate his neighbouring platoons, Lieutenant Colyer tried to decide what on earth he was to meant to do next.

  I must go on. That’s right; I have that firmly fixed in my mind. I can do no good by stopping here, and the idea of going back could not be entertained for a single moment. But it’s rather vague: where am I to go, and what am I going to do when I get there? I certainly never anticipated the extraordinary situation I find myself in now. I have lost touch with half my men in this cursed network of trenches, and in trying to get hold of them again, I have lost the other half. The whole attack as far as we are concerned seems to be completely messed up. Well, if I can’t find my own men, I must jolly well collect some others and go forward with them. Let’s have a look over the top and try and see what’s happening. I climb on to the firestep and look over the parapet. The same scene is there—a desolate waste being churned up by machine guns and shell fire. Shells bursting unpleasantly close too.47

  Lieutenant William Colyer, 2nd Battalion, Royal Dublin Fusiliers, 10th Brigade, 4th Division

  A moment later the necessity of taking such a life or death decision was irrelevant as he was knocked over and concussed by a shell. The sheer force of the blast stripped him of his senses and left him suffering from the classic symptoms of temporary shell shock.

  I was stunned for a moment and thought I was hit. I wasn’t hit; how I escaped I can’t imagine. Then my whole nervous system seemed to be jangled up and I ran like a hare down the trench. I don’t know where I thought I was going. I was much too agitated. I went tumbling along that until I saw what I took to be a dugout opening, which I made for at once. There were a couple of men and an officer sitting just inside the opening. They looked at me as if I had taken leave of my senses—which for the time being, really, I suppose I had. The officer asked me what the matter was and I mumbled something about a shell bursting close to me. He seemed to understand for he was sympathetic and told me to come inside and rest awhile.48

  Lieutenant William Colyer, 2nd Battalion, Royal Dublin Fusiliers, 10th Brigade, 4th Division

  So, feeling muddle-headed and totally confused he took shelter and actually fell asleep in a dugout back in the original British front line.

  Meanwhile, elements of the 10th Brigade had struggled on as far as the Munich Trench with a few brave men even being reported to have reached Pendant Copse. But whatever success the 4th Division had achieved was soon negated by the failure of their neighbouring divisions—the 31st Division to the north and the 29th Division to the south—to make any advance. Like the brave Londoners at Gommecourt a few miles to the north they found themselves totally isolated. As desperate attempts to reinforce them failed, the incessant hammering of German counter-attacks forced them back step by step until all that they retained of their gains was the Heidenkopf Redoubt. The German tide surged round them but they held out until early next morning when even that was reluctantly abandoned. The 4th Division was left to lick its wounds back in the trenches from which it had started.

  In the dark of the night Lieutenant Colyer slowly began to recover from his temporary shell shock. As he regained some idea of his surroundings he found a renewed commitment to find his unit and do his duty once more. But when he rejoined his battalion he found them back in the support line, behind the original British front line, which by then had been smashed to smithereens by the German counter-bombardment. Once again he tried to settle to sleep, but was haunted by the sheer horror of his experiences.

  I am lying in the corner of a darkened dugout. The night is already far advanced, but I cannot sleep. The sound of heavy breathing within the dugout mingles strangely with the occasional whine of a shell without. Every now and again the doorway is filled with an eerie shivering light, caused by a flare set off from the front line a few hundred yards away. The odour of spent explosives still hangs heavy in the air. What a disastrous day it has been! What a wanton shedding of human blood. And yet, I suppose, only to be expected in war, and all in the day’s work of a soldier—I’m no soldier, that’s about the truth of it. I cannot sleep, for thinking of my fellow officers; I can scarcely grasp the fact that I shall never see some of them again. It is such a short while ago that I left them in the height of good spirits, and now in the freshness of youth they have suddenly gone off to another world. It is uncanny to think of it. More than that it is sickening-wicked-cruel
-impossible. It is only now that I realise how much their friendship meant to me.49

  Lieutenant William Colyer, 2nd Battalion, Royal Dublin Fusiliers, 10th Brigade, 4th Division

  The 4th Division had suffered severely in their brave advance, for overall they suffered 5,752 casualties.

  Next to the 4th Division was the 29th Division—another regular division. Scraped up from garrisons around the empire, their experiences serving at Gallipoli had succeeded in strimming down the number of original pre-war regulars until survivors were the exception rather than the rule. Nevertheless, since the evacuation in January 1916, the division had been rebuilt and had retained a considerable self-confidence claiming for itself as it did the sobriquet ‘Immortal’. Now on the Somme they faced the Hawthorn Ridge and the fortress village of Beaumont Hamel. The ground was devoid of worthwhile cover with the exception of a sunken road near to the left of their sector. In addition the engineers had dug three tunnels reaching forward beneath No Man’s Land to near the German line. Two of these were to be used to establish Stokes mortar sections in posts at the end and the other was for use as a communication trench to the sunken road in front of the 1st Lancashire Fusiliers. As the mine was detonated the Stokes mortar teams, who had squirreled their way to the tunnel exits and taken up positions in the sunken road, would commence a furious bombardment of the front line.

  The detonation of the Hawthorn Redoubt mine at 0720 was caught on film by the official British film cameraman Geoffrey Malins. It seems strange to be able to watch such a key moment of the attack, for the film and photographic record is thin for obvious reasons. In a storm of bullets and shell burst any cameraman who exposed himself in the open was no safer than any ordinary infantryman. Despite the natural fears of the men that they would be vulnerable to falling debris the two platoons of the 2nd Royal Fusiliers with machine guns and extra Stokes mortars were to race across and seize the crater. Unfortunately, the Germans were not completely shaken by the enormous explosion. In the immediate area of the crater the effect was truly devastating. But elsewhere the garrison were safe underground in their dugouts. Now they knew the British were going to attack.

 

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