Somme
Page 34
An additional complication was the decision to increase the contribution made by General Sir Hubert Gough and his Reserve Army to the overall offensive effort. Although it had by no means been inactive, Reserve Army operations since 1 July had largely been conducted on a small scale. Costly localised attacks had been made to ‘improve’ the tactical position and indeed the village of Ovillers had finally fallen on 16 July.
Ovillers has been of special interest to us the last six days. My battalion has seen some sticky fighting. By continually harassing the Boche and working our way round him, we eventually got him out of the village. In his last trench on the outskirts of the village he left a number of wounded, all of whom were agreed that they had had a damnable time. Here I collected all the Germans who could in any way hobble along and sent them back to our brigade dressing station. Would you believe it our damned brigade staff cursed the man in charge of the escort for not sending them down on stretchers. I only wish I had been there. I would have let the blasted maniacs have a bit of mind. As if we were not already busy enough dealing with our own wounded and carrying them back, and using every available man we had got to man the trenches as we collared them. It is this sort of damned impudence from people sitting on their haunches miles in the rear, who not only have no idea of the conditions and strain under which people are working up in front, but also are too idle to come up and find out—which makes the regimental officer despise the staff.16
Lieutenant H.G.Wood, 1/7th Battalion Worcestershire Regiment, 144th Brigade, 48th Division
As ever, an objective captured merely moved the focus on to the next perceived target. In this case it was the village of Pozières, which now lay before the British on the Albert–Bapaume road. The village was strongly defended as part of the original German Second Line defence system on the Pozières Ridge. It was a tactically important location as its capture would not only to some extent destabilise the rest of the German Second Line in that sector, but it would also begin to unravel the German stranglehold on the fortress of the Thiepval Spur, which still barred the way to any advance in the northern sector of the Somme battle front. Several small-scale attempts on the village had done little more than inflate the number of casualties suffered. It was at this point that Haig ordered Gough to capture Pozières as soon as possible, in conjunction with the general night attack being launched by the Fourth Army on 23 July. Gough decided to throw the newly arrived 1st Australian Division into the fray. They would attack at 0030 on 23 July, striking across from the south-east at the junction of the Reserve Army and the Fourth Army rather than straight up the Albert–Pozières road. To their left would be the 48th Division who, in attacking towards the head of Mash Valley, would depend for their lives on an Australian success.
The planned assault on 23 July would, therefore, be no single smashing blow, but in essence nothing more than a succession of isolated attacks, each of which would succeed or fail essentially on the basis of its own merits. With each complication and last-minute adjustment to the plans, the overall concept of a single coordinated blow was fatally diluted. The end result was a crazy mélange of start times amongst the X, ANZAC, III, XV and XIII Corps that spread out across a period of some five and a half hours between 2200 and 0340. It was a recipe for disaster.
The preliminary bombardment for the attacks commenced at 1900 on 22 July. The first assault was made three hours later by the men of the 5th Division, who attacked Wood Trench, which ran between Delville Wood and High Wood. The troops went over the top at 2220 that night—for the survivors it would prove an unforgettable experience.
It was a night of such kaleidoscopic effects that I can still see them vividly. It must have been terrifying in its utter inhumanity to the men of the new drafts from England. Every variety of sound, colour and odour assailed and overwhelmed our senses, so that we felt immune to the perpetual threat of death or mutilation—until it came. Loaded with rifle, bayonet, extra ammunition and an unwieldy field telephone in the hope of keeping contact with the rear, I went sprawling in the fitful darkness into a shell hole just short of a new explosion. When I recovered, I moved on, but not before glancing around the whole scene into which I was trudging at a half-trot. The wood was alive with points of light from machine guns, vivid with shell flashes and coloured by the urgent signal flares of Bengal lights; patches of black smoke and flickering red came from the burning debris. From Longueval, almost behind me came the reflected flashes of an exploding dump.17
Private Francis Fields, 15th Battalion, Warwickshire Regiment, 13th Brigade, 5th Division
Before they were spotted the 15th Warwicks made some considerable progress until they crossed the ridge and found themselves in view of the Germans. Lost in a nightmare the survivors were forced to take shelter in a scratch trench that offered only an illusion of protection.
Some of us, survivors of two platoons of A Company manned a trench about an eighth of a mile in advance of the British front line, and beyond the limit reached by the British and Indian cavalry after their charge through waving corn up the slope topped by the ill-famed woods. Behind, bodies of horses and men lying under the hot sun did not let us forget the incident. The trench itself was a mere ditch and poor protection from the exploring German gunners, especially shrapnel as I knew to my cost when a red hot particle lodged near my left eye. We turned corpses out to improve the parapet. Here, a plane would come over at dawn, just visible through the mist, to assure headquarters we still held the position. We were surprisingly immune from attack and could watch that sector, all around us, without inhibitions. Once, there was a short liquid fire attack on the edge of High Wood; again, on the far corner of Delville Wood there were yells and a few running figures. The ground was littered with the blackened remains of Highlanders and Fusiliers. As a signaller I was either alone or working with a companion, Harry Ellis usually. Exploring this area for wire and souvenirs, I came face to face with a figure round a small shrub—a Highlander on all fours—staring, rigid, forever immovable. I guided a complete stranger who was utterly helpless, abandoned with ‘shell shock’. He moved leaning forward, his head projected, arms limp, all control of his face had gone. He could not hear me; he did not respond in any way, just slouched steadily forwards.18
Private Francis Fields, 15th Battalion, Warwickshire Regiment, 13th Brigade, 5th Division
Fields was sent to establish whether there was any contact between the right of his company and the neighbouring village of Longueval. Amongst the ruins was a strange reminder of more innocent times.
I was tracing a wire up an old German trench towards the village defences. Advancing boldly towards me came a tiny friendly little ball of fur, something utterly incongruous in that setting; a kitten, mewing and tail erect. Evidently the village pet, still surviving the devastation.19
Private Francis Fields, 15th Battalion, Warwickshire Regiment, 13th Brigade, 5th Division
On the right of the line the 30th Division had the task of attacking Guillemont without any support from the neighbouring French. The 19th Manchesters moved out from the edge of Trônes Wood, heading directly across the open ground to the battered village at 0340 on the morning of 23 July.
We attacked just before dawn, I being told off to carry a coil of barbed wire on a stake. We had 1,000 yards to go over the open. I soon dropped the barbed wire and lost the spade off my back—the Germans were waiting for us!20
Private Albert Andrews, 19th Battalion, Manchester Regiment, 21st Brigade, 30th Division
This was unsurprising as the British had by then been sending in isolated attacks for four hours. Yet despite all the problems and the added stress of uncut barbed wire, the Manchesters managed against all the odds to burst through to capture Guillemont. This, however, was just the opening gambit in a battle that would rage all day long. The inevitable German counter-attacks hit home hard, isolating and destroying the first two waves of Manchesters, and taking a heavy toll of the rest. Private Albert Andrews was one of the casu
alties, receiving a wound in the right shoulder. With considerable difficulty, battling with increasing faintness and thirst, he made his way back as one of the walking wounded.
I was just about done and was staggering along, I think I would have given up some time since, but my nose was towards home. A parson saw me nearly fall, picked me up and carried me into the dressing station at Billon Farm, where he gave me a drink of tea. While I was drinking this a general came, looked at my shoulder and said, ‘Manchesters’, asking where I was wounded. I told him, ‘Guillemont!’ He seemed as if he could hardly believe it, until a Yorks said to him, ‘Yes, Sir, the Manchesters are in Guillemont.’ He turned to me and said, Are they in it now?’ I said, ‘They were when I left, but were being hard pressed in a counter-attack by the Germans!’ He waited no more and off he went with some other officers. I asked who he was, with him being so anxious, and was told it was General Rawlinson.21
Private Albert Andrews, 19th Battalion, Manchester Regiment, 21st Brigade, 30th Division
Of course their heroism proved all in vain. Cut off by the German artillery and hounded by ceaseless counter-attacks the Manchesters could not hold on to their cherished gains and ultimately fell back to their start lines by the early afternoon. They had fought hard but the odds were always against them. The situation was replicated more or less all along the front of the Fourth Army during their attacks on 23 July. Rawlinson had presided over an unfocused attack and his men had paid a grim price. No ground was gained and the casualties were made all the more painful by the sacrifices being all in vain.
Meanwhile, on the Reserve Army front, the 1st Australian Division, fresh from all their wasted endeavours at Gallipoli, were experiencing for the first time the reality of warfare on the Western Front. The supporting British artillery flayed the ruins of Pozières from 19 July with an ever-increasing intensity in preparation for their attack, which was scheduled for 0030 on 23 July. At about midnight the Australians moved out to their jumping-off tapes and many crept out into No Man’s Land to get as close as possible to the barrage line when it fell, thereby accepting the risk of casualties from shells that dropped even a few yards short. At 1228 the massed guns roared out together and the Australians saw for the first time the stupefying lethal power of an artillery bombardment.
Down came our barrage on to the enemy lines and Pozières village, the Germans replying with artillery and machine-gun fire. As we lay out among the poppies in No Man’s Land we could see the bullets cutting off the poppies almost against our heads. The flashes of the guns, the bursting of the shells and the Very lights, made the night like day, and, as I lay as flat to the ground as possible I was expecting to stop one any time. Jamming my tin helmet down on my head I brought the body of my rifle across my face to stop anything that might happen to drop low. In the tumult it was impossible to hear orders. My ears were ringing with the cracking of bullets. A man alongside me was crying like a baby, and although I tried to reassure him he kept on saying that we would never get out of it. Suddenly I saw men scrambling to their feet. Taking this to be the signal for the charge I jumped up and dashed across.22
Sergeant H. Preston, 9th Australian (Queensland) Battalion, 3rd Brigade, 1st Division, Australian Imperial Force
The surviving German machine guns gave the Australians the unwanted chance to judge the killing potential of these guns in the relatively open fields of the Somme battlefields compared to the enclosed gullies of ANZAC. When Zero hour came the officers’ whistles went for the most part unheard, but their men followed them forward as fast as they could. The bombardment had done its grim work and they soon forced their way into Pozières Trench, which barred the way to the village.
At the point where I entered there was a German doctor, who afterwards did good work among the wounded. Private Jack Rogers, who reached the trench with me, bayoneted two Germans, and after a sharp fight the trench was cleared, and we immediately set to work to improve our position. Captain S. N. Lawrance was in charge of this work. The trench was in good order, with dugouts let into the sides. The dead bodies, which had to be thrown out, were used in building up the parapet.23
Sergeant H. Preston, 9th Australian (Queensland) Battalion, 3rd Brigade, 1st Division, Australian Imperial Force
The 9th Battalion were on the right flank of the Australian attack and thus had to contend with the threatening presence of the German OG1 and OG2 lines. A German strong point immediately to their right was still holding out. Private John Leak was awarded a VC as he rushed a machine gun and bayoneted the whole crew. The fighting that ensued had a particularly vicious intensity.
I was with a party that was ordered to the right in an endeavour to force a way into the stronghold. This, however, proved difficult as it was strongly held by the enemy whose egg bombs could be thrown farther than our Mills. After a sharp fight our bomb supply ran out, and we were forced to barricade the trench and rely on rifle and bayonet until more grenades arrived. Men were spread out along the trench and the bombs were passed from man to man. The Germans at first tricked us by putting helmets and caps on their rifles and walking along with them held above the parapet. When our men put their heads up and attempted to shoot them, they were shot by other Germans farther along the trench. But it did not take us very long to wake up to this ruse, and very soon we were playing the same game. While all this was going on we were tunnelling under a road into the strong post, and by this means we succeeded in getting into the enemy trench. This movement startled the Germans, who dashed out and across the ridge towards Pozières village, making an excellent target for our rifles and machine guns. In the meantime, other Australians had entered Pozières and driven out its garrison who were making their way to the stronghold. So out over the top we went and chased the confused and panic-stricken enemy over the ridge in the direction of the old windmill. A good many were overtaken and shot or bayoneted.24
Sergeant H. Preston, 9th Australian (Queensland) Battalion, 3rd Brigade, 1st Division, Australian Imperial Force
The capture of most of the village meant that consolidation was the priority as the troops awaited the inevitable violent German reaction. Once it realised the situation the German artillery was not idle, it took a steady toll of the Australians; it isolated them, in an attempt to cut them off from reinforcements and basic supplies. This tactic was obvious and expected, but almost impossible to counter without a concerted prior attempt to knock out the German batteries.
Most of the fire was in enfilade, and as the line ran parallel and close to the main road, our position was accurately marked down. As fast as one portion of the trench was cleared another was blown in. There were no dugouts in which men on post could take shelter, and the only thing to do was to grin and bear it. The shells, which were dropping almost perpendicularly, could be clearly seen in the last 40 feet of their descent, and the whole trench was methodically dealt with.25
Captain J. R. O. Harris, 3rd Australian (New South Wales) Battalion 1st Brigade, 1st Division, Australian Imperial Force
This bombardment was not falling on virgin ground; by this time it had been thoroughly pounded, thrown up time and time again until it was merely a treacherous amalgam of loose earth, bricks and helpless soldiers.
The men who were not wounded were kept busy digging out men who were buried alive by the explosions caving in the trench sides. I had occasion to bless my ‘tin hat’ for in our portion of the trench the parapet was composed of the debris of a ruined house—and a shell pushed over a barrow load of bricks on to my head with no other ill effect but some bruises on the shoulders.26
Captain J.R.O. Harris, 3rd Australian (New South Wales) Battalion, 1st Brigade, 1st Division, Australian Imperial Force
There was nothing for the survivors to do but endure as best they could.
Without doubt Pozières was the heaviest, bloodiest, rottenest stunt that ever the Australians were caught up in. The carnage is just indescribable. As we were making our attack after the 3rd Brigade had go
ne through we were literally walking over the dead bodies of our cobbers that had been slain by this barrage. I can’t imagine anything more concentrated than the artillery barrage of the Germans at that particular stunt. He was even shelling our front line with great ‘coal boxes’. His artillery was registered right smack on it. The bay on our left went in, two or three chaps were killed; the bay on our right went in. I said to this chap, ‘Its our turn next!’ I hadn’t said it before we were buried. I was quite unconscious, buried in what had been the German front-line trench. I was picked up and sent back to the battalion first aid post. I was given a bottle of sal volatile or something—I wish it had been rum! I was sat in a corner of this aid post for a little while, but then the wounded just streamed in and the chap in charge of the post said, ‘Oh well, you’ve had enough rest, you’d better get back again!’ And I went back. During the whole of that period I can’t remember anything more nerve-wracking than the continuous shelling day and night.27
Private Frank Brent, 2nd Australian (New South Wales) Battalion, 1st Brigade, 1st Division, Australian Imperial Force
Whatever the men did, whether they moved to left or right they could not second guess the random machinations of high technology and blind fate that guided the shells to their final resting place.
The heavy shells were falling, so it was estimated, at the rate of three a minute. It was not long before the area became unrecognisable, and as time went on even the unwounded felt sick. Food and water were not too plentiful, and we did not know when any more would be available. After our iron rations had gone we were compelled to fall back upon any that could be found on the dead.28