by Peter Hart
Lieutenant Edgar Lord, 15th Battalion, Lancashire Fusiliers, 96th Brigade, 32nd Division
The men that took the responsibility for the mass interments were the army chaplains and padres, who were attached to battalions with the aim of providing the men with spiritual comfort. Now they found themselves ministering to the dead. It was a grim task: identifying where possible the corpse and securing any personal effects to pass on to the family.
The padre was confronted with the terrific task of burying the dead. It was the only certain way of compiling a correct casualty list. It was no one’s job other than the padre to concern himself with burying the dead, unless specifically detailed for the job. Experience showed that in any battle large numbers were merely reported in the first place as ‘missing’, when in fact their dead bodies were later found on the battlefield. The discovery and identification of the body settled a man’s fate beyond all question, and the sooner this was done after the action took place, the more accurate and complete the casualty list would be. It was worth almost any amount of labour to avoid reporting a man as ‘missing’ unnecessarily. A chaplain who was right on the spot could often seize the opportunity to bury his dead, or at least identify them, taking the red identity disc alone and leaving the green one for the burial party when it should arrive. It was unfortunate that well-meaning, but misinformed persons often removed both identity discs at the same time, without burial, a fact which explains how it was so many unidentified dead had afterwards to be buried.9
Chaplain Ernest Crosse, 8th and 9th Battalions, Devonshire Regiment, 20th Brigade, 7th Division
Often they were dealing with men that they knew; men who had perhaps taken communion with them just days before. Chaplain Crosse went forward in the footsteps of the Devons on 1 July. The ground was still littered with corpses. Once they were identified he had to supervise their interment in a rough mass grave and then recite the hackneyed but still moving words of the burial service above the newly disturbed earth.
All together we collected 163 Devons and covered them up in Mansell Copse. A colossal thunderstorm about 2 p.m. delayed us sorely. At 6 p.m., in the presence of the General, Foss, Milne and about sixty men, I read the funeral service and the ‘Thanksgiving for Victory’. The working party was deadbeat and the task of filling in the trench was awfully slow. I got the Pioneer Sergeant to paint a board with red lead borrowed from the Royal Engineers to mark the cemetery. I put up the board
Cemetery of 163 Devons Killed July 1st 1916
I placed twelve crosses in two rows and after wiring in the area I rode back.10
Chaplain Ernest Crosse, 8th and 9th Battalions, Devonshire Regiment, 20th Brigade, 7th Division
Amongst the bodies buried by Ernest Crosse were the mortal remains of Lieutenant Noel Hodgson who was buried close to where he had fallen in action. The earnest padre’s God had indeed met Hodgson’s resigned poetic wish: ‘Help me to thee, O Lord’. But the chaplain’s job did not end with the interment of the corpses.
Once the burial of the dead men was as far as possible completed, the chaplain could tackle the colossal task of writing to the homes of the men who had been killed. But this was such a huge business, that if he was to attempt it at all, some sort of circular letter was the only possible solutions. Even that was abundantly worthwhile, particularly if he was able to add that he had actually buried the man’s body.11
Chaplain Ernest Crosse, 8th and 9th Battalions, Devonshire Regiment, 20th Brigade, 7th Division
This was also a task undertaken by the regimental officers. Many of them were barely out of their teens and found it excruciatingly difficult to act as the harbingers of misery to the families of the missing and the dead.
The next heart-breaking task was to write to the next-of-kin of those for whom we could not account. Those who know the difficulty of sometimes writing an ordinary letter will get only a small idea of the reluctance to start such a job. One would wish to defer it forever, if it were not for the anxiety of their loved ones.12
Lieutenant Edgar Lord, 15th Battalion, Lancashire Fusiliers, 96th Brigade, 32nd Division
The letters had much in common. The stumbling phrases, the universal, unconvincing assurances of instantaneous death, which belied the more frequent reality of lonely, agonising deaths marooned between the lines, or life slowly draining away several days later in some anonymous field hospital. Two officers wrote to the grieving family of Captain Wilfred Nevill.
I hardly know how to begin to write this letter at all. It seems almost an impertinence to try to sympathise with you in such a dreadful loss, but I feel it my duty to tell you how your son met his death. He was in command of one of our leading companies in the attack on Montauban on the 1st of this month, and led his company most gallantly and with utmost coolness up to the German front line trench, where he was shot. Death must have been absolutely instantaneous.13
Lieutenant Colonel Alfred Irwin, 8th Battalion, East Surrey Regiment, 55th Brigade, 18th Division
Some found fluency and sought to reassure the deceased family of the popularity of the victim, how he would be missed but hastened to reassure them that his sacrifice, although cruel, was worthwhile in the greater scheme of things. Their son had died for his country and all that entailed.
With his brilliance as a soldier he was always my ideal hero as an officer and a gentleman, while as a personal friend it is now that I fully realise that I loved him as boys rarely love one another. It is only by the willing and noble sacrifice of our very best that our country can gradually restore peace and justice to the world. I only wish for your sake and for his country that I could have taken his place.14
Second Lieutenant Alan Jacobs, 8th Battalion, East Surrey Regiment, 55th Brigade, 18th Division
It is all too predictable that young Lieutenant Alan Jacobs would indeed die for his country just a month later in August 1916. Yet there is no reason to doubt the sincerity of such emotions. Many men retained a strong belief that there was a very real purpose to what they were doing and the sacrifices that were being made by so many of their friends and ultimately themselves. Not everyone despaired of the future; if they had, the offensive could hardly have continued. Discipline still held firm; men buried their friends, but fought on. A clear majority still believed that there was a real purpose to it all and still trusted their leaders to take them through the hard battles that lay ahead.
It has been a very wonderful show, one I wouldn’t have missed for anything, but it has also been rather terrible. It is still going on of course, in fact it has only just begun! But the centre of gravity has shifted away from us, temporarily at any rate, so you needn’t be the least bit anxious about me. The French have had a great show—the Boche thought they were done in and concentrated all his reserves opposite us, so that when the attack took place, the French met with practically no opposition. They have got on splendidly since, and the very latest is that they have broken the Hun line, are through at Péronne and have let loose cavalry to prey on the Boche ammunition columns and supply trains—my word I wish we were down there, it must be a very great show. Everything now depends on the next few days—can we enlarge or keep open the gap, or will the Huns close it again! I want to fight out in the open. I hate this mole life underground, being ceaselessly hammered by heavy guns and never seeing your horses.15
Captain Cuthbert Lawson, 369th Battery, 15th Brigade, Royal Horse Artillery, 29th Division
Yet such a response, mixing reason and still vaunting optimism was simply beyond the comprehension of those who had found their preconceptions ripped to shreds by the sheer scale of the catastrophe of 1 July. For them nothing could justify the suffering and death that surrounded them at every side.
I shall soon be a pacifist and a conscientious objector—to modern warfare anyhow. It becomes more impossible every month, and the ghastly mangling of human beings en masse seems disproportionate to any conceivable object. ‘A bloody mugs game’, said a stretcher bearer.16
Chaplain Francis Drinkwater, 139th Brigade, 46th Division
Unfortunately for them all, the Battle of the Somme had only just begun.
CHAPTER SIX
Creeping Forward
FOR ALL THE PAIN, mental anguish and crippling losses there was never any going back: a renewed attack was utterly inevitable. The Battle of the Somme was the major Allied offensive of 1916; it was too important to be set aside or evaded because of dreadful casualties. Even if Haig had fully realised the depth and breadth of the losses suffered by his assaulting divisions on 1 July he could not have aborted the offensive without seriously jeopardising the Entente Cordiale with France and Russia. The armies of his Continental Allies had been slaughtered time and time again in the first two years of the war while Britain’s new armies were given the time to slowly build in relative safety. They were unlikely to look on with any great sympathy if Britain tried to evade her share of the ‘butcher’s bill’. After all, the unrelenting German pressure on France at the slaughterhouse of Verdun had not miraculously diminished overnight; Germany was still strong. The Somme offensive had only just begun.
A major offensive cannot be held up at will for a detailed situational analysis. Speed is all important in warfare. Time not used by the attacker would inevitably be used profitably by the defender to stifle any forward momentum that might have been generated. The problem for Generals Sir Douglas Haig and Sir Henry Rawlinson was not as straightforward as might be imagined. At the end of the first day they had clearly gained ground in the south, but the tactically significant features still remained a considerable distance ahead of them, securely guarded by the German Second Line system. Furthermore, in the north the assault on the key Thiepval Spur and Pozières Ridge had utterly failed. Success here would have provided vital observation over large sectors of the German defensive system and thus destabilised the whole German line in the Somme sector. Succinctly put, the British had failed where it mattered and succeeded where it was all but tactically irrelevant. This left a quandary to which there was no simple answer. If the attack was renewed in the south with the intention of capitalising on success, then they would be evading the essence of the tactical conundrum—Thiepval and Pozières would have to be captured before there could be a rapid advance. Yet the sheer scale of the losses already suffered in the attacks there called to mind the wisdom of hitting your head against a brick wall as a means of progress.
At first, Rawlinson was inclined to grasp the bull by the metaphorical horns and batter down the continued resistance to the north before turning to exploit the success gained in the south.
A large part of the German reserve have now been drawn in and it is essential to keep up the pressure and wear out the defence. It is also necessary to secure, as early as possible, all important tactical points still in the possession of the Germans in their front line system and intermediate line, with a view to an ultimate attack on the German Second Line.1
Lieutenant General Sir Henry Rawlinson, Headquarters, Fourth Army
In other words he felt the VIII, X and III Corps would have to ‘catch up’ by taking their original objectives along the Thiepval Spur and Pozières Ridge before the next real assault designed to penetrate the German Second Line all along the original front. This approach can easily be caricatured—‘if at first you don’t succeed’—but Rawlinson was responding to the flawed reports of the situation on the ground. After all, he still had large numbers of reserves that had not been committed to the battle.
Haig took an alternative tactical approach. He wanted to push ahead in the south alongside the French, to build on success already achieved. However, this infuriated the French when Haig expressed his intentions at a meeting with General Joffre on 3 July. The natural French propensity for continuously monitoring the performance of ‘perfidious Albion’ for signs of backsliding and lack of resolve can clearly discerned in his testy reaction.
Joffre began by pointing out the importance of our getting Thiepval hill. To this I said that in view of the progress made on my right, near Montauban, and the demoralised nature of the enemy’s troops in that area, I was considering the desirability of pressing my attack on Longueval. I was therefore anxious to know whether in that event the French would attack Guillemont. At this, General Joffre exploded in a fit of rage. He could not approve of it. He ordered me to attack Thiepval and Pozières. If I attacked Longueval, I would be beaten, etc., etc. I waited calmly till he had finished. His breast heaved and his face flushed! The truth is the poor man cannot argue, nor can he easily read a map. When Joffre got out of breath, I quietly explained what my position is as regards him as the ‘generalissimo’. I am solely responsible (to the British Government) for the action of the British Army; and I had approved the plan, and must modify it to suit the changing situation as the fight progresses. I was most polite. Joffre saw he had made a mistake, and next tried to cajole me. He said that this was the English Battle, and France expected great things from me. I thanked him but said I had only one object viz to beat Germany. France and England marched together, and it would give me equal pleasure to see the French troops exploiting victory as my own!2
General Sir Douglas Haig, General Headquarters, British Expeditionary Force
Joffre considered that the tactical imperative of capturing the Thiepval Spur and Pozières Ridge entirely outweighed the likely price in heavy British casualties. He was very wary of the true British motives in switching the balance of the attack to the south. He feared the French Army might once again end up bearing the brunt of the fighting, thus at a stroke negating any alleviation that the Somme might hope to give them from the crippling pressure they were enduring at Verdun. The end result of the deliberations of the British High Command was fairly predictable in that Haig simply overruled Rawlinson and braved Joffre’s wrath. He would accept strategic control from Joffre in the joint Allied cause but certainly would not accept tactical interference on the ground.
They would attack in the south with the intention of securing a position from which the next main thrust would crash through the German Second Line which stretched along the Longueval to Bazentin le Petit Ridge. In addition, there would be a diversionary attack at Thiepval on 3 July as part of an overall aggressive posture north of the Albert–Bapaume road—this would hopefully deflect German attention away from the real targets to be assaulted when Rawlinson was ready. It would take a considerable time to get ready for the next stage of the attack complicated as it was by the need to secure the cooperation of the French: Rawlinson was unwilling to push any further on his southern XIII Corps front towards Longueval and Trônes Wood without a simultaneous French advance as that would form a dangerously exposed salient.
While the great men pondered their next move, down on the ground, 2 July was largely a day of consolidation as the British sought both to complete the capture of the few objectives almost within their grasp, and to secure their meagre gains from the threat of German counter-attacks. Clearly the best chance to move forward without undue trouble was at Fricourt where the German garrison had been placed in an almost insupportable position by the advances pressing in on them from both north and south. Indeed, in the event, the Germans had more sense than to stay put and evacuated during the night. Yet despite reports from patrols that they had found the village clear of Germans, there was still considerable confusion before the village was actually occupied. The Royal Engineers claimed that it was one of their more adventurous officers who finally resolved the situation as the artillery began a somewhat futile barrage of the empty village.
After all the ‘pushes’ he was the first to race up to the line to see what was happening, and used to walk up and down the parados, encouraging the men, when it seemed absolute death. The Major had the luck of kings not to have been wounded hundreds of times. After repeated attacks had failed to capture Fricourt and whilst a bombardment of the village previous to another attack was taking place, the Major got out of our front-line trench and waved his
hat. Finding no one shot at him, he walked across, in the open, to a point 200 yards in front of Fricourt Farm, an enemy strong point. Finding no one shot here again on waving his hat, he returned to our line and sent this message to Divisional Headquarters, ‘Our artillery barrage is only stopping our infantry entering Fricourt!’ This report was considered and patrols pushed out, who took the village.3
Captain A. C. Sparkes, 97th Field Company, Royal Engineers, 21st Division
Alongside them, the 91st Brigade were charged with advancing to the White Trench and thereby completing the capture of their intended objectives from the previous day. This was easier said than done and Lieutenant Colonel Frank Maxwell VC, commanding the 12th Middlesex, watched such tentative proceedings with some bemusement. As an experienced veteran he was disturbed at the amateurism of much of what he saw and resolved to assist as best he could.
I am vain enough to think I helped ’em to succeed at long last by carrying a wire and observing the battle, sending back information to our generals who passed it along to the general concerned. It was a most curious position to be in, actually watching an action from a flank, I was more or less behind the Germans and could see almost from behind. Of course if we could have got artillery up—and I think we could have—we should have boiled the Germans and helped our people out in no time. But we didn’t and all I could do was to help with four Vickers guns and my telephone. It was rather a pitiful sight to see our people getting knocked over, hung up, retiring and going forward again. All seemed so unnecessary and badly worked. They only had very inexperienced forward observation officers who knew about as much about fighting as a violet. So I took them in charge and ordered them to send back targets to their people. At length we got things right and the artillery on to a place full of machine guns. It was plastered by the guns for twenty minutes—it did the trick and the whole crowd surrendered—something like 700–800 or so.4
