by Peter Hart
The pace of the 9th Division advance slowed to a crawl as the troops fought their way slowly through Longueval, and finally washed up against the fringes of Delville Wood and the German strong point at the Waterlot Farm sugar refinery. Here, as German opposition stiffened and casualties inexorably mounted, the advance was finally halted.
To their left, the 3rd Division had substantially more problems with uncut wire but still managed to get forward towards the main Bazentin Ridge. The original German Second Line system was breached and overrun as the men swarmed forwards. In the excitement and trauma of mopping up the nobler virtues of war were not always observed.
Dead and wounded were lying all around. One of our infantrymen was kicking a wounded German, crying out, ‘You may be the bastard that killed my brother.’67
Sapper John Cordy, 56th Field Company, Royal Engineers, 3rd Division
The troops pushed forward and began struggling their way through the village of Bazentin-le-Grand. Sappers were a useful adjunct to the infantry in such close-quarter street fighting.
We got into the buildings which were on one side of the street in the village. It was an old brewery, half of it below street level. The Germans had made a first aid dressing station here, and German wounded lay in bunk beds both sides of the room. We moved them from the street-side bunks and put them all together on the other side, so we were able to stand on the beds and open up the air vents in the walls for our snipers to get rifles through. In my working party I had five pioneer infantrymen and I sent them to dig a trench past an opening between the houses. I left them, and went into the cellar to see how the fellow was getting on cutting the holes. I thought I would have a shot and went to step up on a bed, but spotted a sniper lying dead on the other side, a bullet through his head. As soon as I got outside again I saw an observation balloon go up over the houses and after a few moments over came the shells, one burst right near and a piece of shrapnel took the top off a fellow’s shoulder. The first aid chap with the bandages and dressings was very frightened, ‘What shall I do?’ he cried, ‘Get the fellow in the cellar and dress his shoulder!’ was the quick reply. Another shell exploded and the shrapnel knocked me down with pieces hitting my leg and shoulder, and another piece piercing the middle of my knee.68
Sapper John Cordy, 56th Field Company, Royal Engineers, 3rd Division
It was, of course, crucial to get artillery support in attacking the deeper objectives where the preliminary bombardment was obviously neither so heavy nor accurate. The gun batteries sent forward observation parties who followed hard on the heels of the first wave. It was naturally an extremely confusing environment.
We were walking over this open ground and this thick mist was rolling about. There’s bullets flying about and Locking said, ‘Well for stray bullets, it’s bloody good shooting!’ Just then we heard a voice yelling, ‘Get down you silly so-and-sos!’ We dropped flat and crawled up. There was a bank about two feet high and there was some infantry; it was the 8th East Yorks. There was about 200 of them left of 800 and it was only twenty minutes from the start. They were pinned down. One chap was making a run from behind, we were in a shell hole then, and this chap was hit right in the ear and he pitched amongst us. Just for a few moments blood was spurting out of his ear, I suppose his heart was still beating. Then it gradually died away. Then Jerry put a ‘box barrage’ down, to cut them off, so I thought, ‘That means he’s going to attack and he’s cutting off reinforcements’. I said to the officer, ‘We’d better get out of this, there’ll be a counter-attack in a minute!’ He wouldn’t move, so I said, ‘You bloody well stay there but I’m going!’ We started crawling out. We had some rations with us. I had a sandbag with some tins of bully and I put that across the back of my neck. We were crawling flat on our faces to get through this barrage. Fortunately, most of it was going into the ground and not doing much damage, it wasn’t bad. I’m crawling through this and suddenly there’s a terrific clout on the back of my head, knocked me out for a moment. Then I felt something move and what had happened was a big clod of earth had dropped on the back of my head and bashed me. My nose was bleeding, my chin was cut.69
Signaller Leonard Ounsworth, 124th Heavy Battery, Royal Garrison Artillery
When forward observation posts were eventually established with a reasonable view over the German lines, the observers began the difficult task of communicating with their batteries to ensure that shells were falling accurately. In many cases the telephone wires had not yet been laid, but even where they were they did not stay intact for long under the German barrage. Observation post work was an extremely dangerous task for if sighted by the Germans the signallers became a prime target.
During the afternoon our artillery concentrated their fire upon Bazentin-le-Petit and Shelter Wood. This wood is, or rather was situated upon a slope, and at the top in a small clearing there stood a crucifix made of wood. As our position was close by, we used this place to signal from—with flags. It was also not very far from the first-line trenches and could be plainly seen from the German lines. We were busy signalling from this spot when Fritz caught sight of us and, of course, put one of his guns on us. The first shell dropped just in the rear and then he got the range all right, for he absolutely levelled the ground, or rather made holes in it, smashing the crucifix to smithereens and turning the trees round about into sawdust. As for ourselves, we dived at once for the nearest shelter we could find. Some of us were lucky enough to get there, but two of the chaps were not. One of them was blown to smithereens and the other’s head was completely cut off. That finished our signalling there for that day. The body of the one chap and the few pieces we could find of the other were buried where they fell.70
Signaller F.J.G. Gambling, B Battery, 97th Brigade, Royal Field Artillery, 21st Division
Later in the day when the telephone line had been laid and duly broken by shelling, Signaller Gambling was sent back to locate and repair the break.
As we were passing through Mametz Wood, I pulled out a couple of fags from my pocket, gave my chum one and then found I had not got a match. My chum felt in his pockets and found that he had none either. We had been walking on for some distance when I saw a chap crouched against a tree. At first I thought he was getting a light. Then I saw he was not moving so I turned to my chum and said, ‘What’s he doing down there?’ My chum stopped and said, ‘God knows!’ So I went up to the chap and dropping my hand on his shoulder. I said, ‘Got a match, old chap?’ But I got no answer from him so I shook his shoulder gently, and was about to ask him again, when he fell over and I could see then he was stone dead. It seemed as though he had taken to that tree for cover when advancing and just as he got there, he must have been shot, and that is how he fell. He had a full pack on and his rifle was gripped tightly in has hands.71
Signaller F.J. G. Gambling, B Battery, 97th Brigade, Royal Field Artillery, 21st Division
In one sense the British had been unfortunate in their timing of the attack for 14 July. Local German counter-attacks had been anticipated, but the attack had coincided with the arrival in the battle area of the forward elements of the relief 7th Division. These fresh troops, unaffected by the prior bombardments, began to launch a series of counter-attacks that hammered time and time again against the villages of Bazentin-le-Petit and Bazentin-le-Grand. This effectively prevented any further forward movement, as the troops on Bazentin Ridge were fully occupied in holding what they had. Even if this had not been the case, Rawlinson had ordered the XV Corps to hold back from an assault on High Wood until the XIII Corps on their right had managed to capture Longueval.
As the infantry began to run out of steam this, if any, was the moment at which the much-vaunted mobile power of the cavalry should have been swiftly deployed to push through the infantry and so exploit the German confusion. In one sense it was strange that Rawlinson had allotted such a considerable role to his cavalry. Before the original assault on 1 July he had not at any time actually envisaged a breakth
rough and, despite Haig’s prodding, had not assigned the cavalry a significant role. Yet, on 14 July, conscious of the relative weakness of the German defences existing behind the front line, he had assigned a very definite task to his cavalry. Once Delville Wood and Bazentin-le-Petit were captured it was to deploy forward to seize the brooding High Wood before advancing to capture Flers and Eaucourt L’Abbaye. This was ambitious in the extreme.
Our fire continued at a rapid rate until 10.30 a.m., when we got news of the capture of the objective, and soon after, on the skyline west of Montauban, we could see the silhouettes of cavalry and horse artillery moving forward, a thrilling sight after the weary round of trench warfare.72
Major Neil Fraser-Tytler, D Battery, 149th Brigade, Royal Field Artillery, 30th Division
The Germans were in some disarray, but the difficulties in moving large bodies of mounted troops across a cratered battlefield, constantly snagged by barbed wire, had not simply disappeared. The cavalry consequently found it almost impossible to get across the broken ground and most were stymied well behind the new front line. Indeed, by the early evening only the 7th Dragoon Guards and 20th Deccan Horse of the 2nd Indian Cavalry Division finally managed to make their way forward on to the high ground that stretched between Delville Wood and High Wood.
They deployed ready for action, but horsemen were still a tempting and large target, unable as they were to take cover without dismounting. A few connected patches of barbed wire, a machine gun or a surviving battery of artillery would spell disaster. As they moved forward the bruised, but otherwise unharmed, Signaller Leonard Ounsworth saw a most unusual sight from his observation post.
A Morane-Saulnier, a French aeroplane that we had at the time, kept diving down on to the corner of the field on our left front. I saw this Indian cavalry, the Deccan Horse they called them, and this plane was diving down and up again. Suddenly the officer in charge of the cavalry cottoned on. He stood up in his stirrups, waved his sword above his head and just charged across that field—like a shot out of a gun, like bats out of hell. The two outer lots split, so they made a pincer and encircled them—it was all over in a matter of seconds. The next thing we saw was thirty-four Jerry prisoners, some with heavy machine guns. They were waiting while the Cavalry got a bit nearer—my God, they’d have slaughtered them. The plane was trying to draw their attention, just diving down on top, I suppose distracting these machine gunners, because a plane coming down close above your head is enough to draw your attention.73
Signaller Leonard Ounsworth, 124th Heavy Battery, Royal Garrison Artillery
Despite such minor successes, the Deccan Horse soon found that they had bitten off more than they could chew. As they moved forward the machine gunners forced them to ground and they took up a dismounted line stretching from Longueval to the southern corner of High Wood. By the early evening sufficient infantry reserves had arrived to allow a partial resumption of their advance and elements of the 7th and 33rd Divisions managed to gain a fairly solid foothold in High Wood. It has been suggested that if Rawlinson had not waited for the cavalry then the infantry could have advanced much earlier and taken High Wood almost without opposition. The Royal Flying Corps had reported on several occasions that the wood was free of Germans during the afternoon. Yet this vista of lost opportunities totally ignores the difficulty experienced along most of the new line as the infantry struggled to hold back the German counter-attacks. And whatever the RFC observers may have thought they had seen, their gaze could not penetrate the leafy bowers and inner fastness of the woods—the Germans were there in some strength. There were indeed opportunities for further advance, but it would be ludicrously over-optimistic to discount the prospect of further stiff German opposition. It probably would have been hard going; on the other hand, suffering endured then may have been an easier option than the subsequent torments the Fourth Army underwent over the next two months in High Wood.
One man truly grateful for the arrival of the cavalry was the seriously wounded Private Downes of the 9th Cameronians. He had been left abandoned in a shell hole by a pair of stretcher bearers who had clearly believed he was beyond mortal help.
A young trooper of the Dragoon Guards, whose horse had been shot from under him, jumped into the shell hole for protection. Finding me alive, he called to his comrades, also horseless and on foot, who despite my stretcher being full of blood, hoisted it onto their shoulders and raced over the ground to hand me over to an Indian cavalry unit waiting in reserve, who completed my journey to the field ambulance unit—a journey with the smoothness of a magic carpet ride compared to the one with the troopers. As always it was the combat men who showed their humanity towards comrades in distress.74
Private Barney Dowries, 9th Battalion, Cameronians (Scottish Rifles), 27th Brigade, 9th Division
While the main advance was progressing a separate but related tussle was taking place on the right flank of the main thrust on 14 July. It had been considered axiomatic that Trônes Wood would have to be captured before the launch of the next phase of the attack. It stuck out right into the side of the intended attack on Bazentin Ridge and promised a scything flanking fire that could have cost thousands of lives. Yet, as night fell on 13 July, the bulk of the wood still remained in German hands; time had all but run out when Rawlinson ordered a last desperate attempt by the 54th Brigade of the 18th Division. They were to advance in the dark, seize and consolidate their hold on the wood and form a defensive flank along the eastern face, thus covering the advance of the neighbouring 9th Division. In view of the prevailing communication difficulties Colonel Frank Maxwell of the 12th Middlesex was placed in charge of the attack.
From 11 p.m. onwards kept busy for an attack on the Trônes Wood which had been taken (more or less), lost and retaken about three or four times. Finally it had to be taken and kept at all costs. The Northants and my regiment, under myself, were ordered to do it. Not a pleasant or easy job to take on and be warned off for at 2 a.m., to get across the open before daylight to the edge of the wood or be Maxim-gunned out of existence.75
Lieutenant Colonel Frank Maxwell VC, 12th Battalion, Middlesex Regiment, 54th Brigade, 18th Division
It looked hopeless at such short notice for there were severe organisational difficulties to be overcome. His unit was not expecting to be ordered forward and had been scattered about by the various conflicting orders received that day. Maxwell only had two Middlesex companies ready in the right place at the right time and he was forced to send the 6th Northants in first. In the event they were delayed to such an extent that they were attacking broadly at the same time as the main assault that morning. Yet at first things seemed to go well as the Northants disappeared into the maw of the wood.
We crossed just as dawn was breaking the half-mile of open ground to the wood, passing through a very thick enemy barrage of shell. The edge of the wood we were aiming for was held by a battalion that had managed to stay in at the last attack. We got over wonderfully well and only one or two parties were blown away which was wonderful. Men were very good and steady. On arrival at wood my orders were for the battalion to halt at the edge and reform. But the CO got muddled and didn’t do this, and consequently hadn’t a dog’s chance of doing anything except be killed just in the same way that other regiments had been for the same fault. Fortunately, I stopped mine inside and kept them in hand. Then waited for reports to come back from the Northants. None came, nor could come as they were soon lost and broken up into small bodies playing just the same game the Germans like for it let them fire at them from sideways and behind.76
Lieutenant Colonel Frank Maxwell VC, 12th Battalion, Middlesex Regiment, 54th Brigade, 18th Division
Realising things were going wrong Maxwell went forward himself to see what he could do. As he looked into Trônes Wood, Maxwell realised the sheer magnitude of the task that lay before his men. The English language no longer seemed to have appropriate words to encompass what lay before him.
To talk of a ‘
wood’ is to talk rot. It was the most dreadful tangle of dense trees and undergrowth imaginable, with deep yawning broken trenches criss-crossing about it. Every tree broken off at top or bottom and branches cut away, so that the floor of the wood was almost an impenetrable tangle of timber, branches, undergrowth etc. blown to pieces by British and German heavy guns for a week. Never was anything so perfectly dreadful to look at—at least I couldn’t dream of anything worse—particularly with its dreadful addiction of corpses and wounded men, many lying there for days and days. So dense is the tangle that even if one finds a man, gets someone to bandage him and then leave him, you have lost him probably, simply because you can’t find your way back to him.77
Lieutenant Colonel Frank Maxwell VC, 12th Battalion, Middlesex Regiment, 54th Brigade, 18th Division
Realising that the Northants had been smashed, Maxwell then devised his own method of dealing with the ferocious problems of fighting in woodland. Modern commentators may jeer at the ‘hunting, shooting and fishing’ mentality of the old-style regular officers that filled the pre-war Regular Army, but in these circumstances that kind of experience certainly seemed relevant as Maxwell considered the problem. He would form a single line and ‘beat’ the woods from end to end as if he were flushing out pheasants for a shooting party.
Well I formed a line with fragments of the Northants and two companies of my own with a job lot of about five very young officers—all the rest being hors de combat. After infinite difficulty, I got it shaped in the right direction, and then began the advance very, very slowly. Men nearly all very much shaken by the clamour and din of shell fire and nervy and jumpy about advancing in such a tangle of debris and branches. I had meant only to organise and start the line, and then get back to my loathsome ditch, back near the edge of the wood where we had entered, so as to be in communication by runners with the brigade and the world outside. It is a fundamental principle that commanders of any force should not play about but keep in touch with the higher authorities behind. But though an old enough soldier to realise this, and the wrath of my seniors for disregarding it, I immediately found that without me being there, the thing would collapse in a few minutes. Sounds vain, perhaps, but there is nothing of vanity about it really. So off I went with the line, leading it, pulling it on, keeping its direction, keeping it from its hopeless (and humanly natural) desire to get into single file behind me, instead of a long line either side. Soon I made them advance with fixed bayonets—and ordered them to fire ahead of them into the tangle all the way. This was a good move and gave them confidence and so we went on with constant halts to adjust the line. After slow progress in this way, my left came on a hornets’ nest and I halted the line and went for it with the left portion. A curtain may be drawn over this, and all that need be said was that many Germans ceased to live, and we took a machine gun. Then on again, and then began what I hoped for: the Germans couldn’t face a long line offering no scattered groups to be killed. They began to bolt, first back, then, as the wood became narrow they bolted out to the sides, and with rifle and automatic guns we slew them. Right up to the very top this went on, and I could have had a much bigger bag, except that I did not want to show my people out of the wood too much, for fear of letting the German artillery know how we had progressed and so enable them to plaster the wood pari passu with our advance. So far they had only laid it on thick, strong and deadly in the belt we had left behind. And, finally, the job was done, and I was thankful, for I thought we should never get through with it.78
