by Peter Hart
I was housed in a small dugout about a quarter of a mile behind the jumping-off trench. I had a periscope from inside the dugout to above ground level and it was thought I would be able to obtain a good view of our whole front and report progress to brigade headquarters. It was known that the Germans had machine guns and mortars in the dugouts beneath the farm and two tanks were allotted to us for the purpose of mopping up, while the infantry went straight on up the hill. The tanks had to remain under cover about a mile behind the farm until zero hour. It was a bright sunny day when, promptly at 1235, our barrage opened up and our men swarmed out of their trenches and began walking up the hill. The German response was very quick and I found that with all the dust flying about, I could see nothing through my periscope. I had a signaller with me, so I informed brigade headquarters that I was going to leave the dugout and would lie outside. Communication was more difficult there, but at least I could see something. Unfortunately, my first view was not very encouraging. The two tanks were coming down the hillside behind towards Mouquet Farm. The first went into a large shell hole on our side of the farm and remained stuck there. Very soon the second did likewise. Neither was able to neutralise the Germans in the farm who continued to shoot into the backs of our troops advancing up the hill. The farm was not subdued until the evening when our pioneer battalion, 6th East Yorks, dealt with it.8
Second Lieutenant Alan Angus, Headquarters, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
The failure of the tanks left the infantry exposed to a lashing crossfire from the German machine guns concealed in Mouquet Farm. The Germans were clearly still determined to fight every inch of the way across Thiepval Spur and Pozières Ridge.
To their left the 18th Division was faced with Thiepval village and chateau, and behind them the grim fastness of Schwaben Redoubt. The 18th Division had earned itself a great reputation for their performance in the opening attack on 1 July and in the capture of Trônes Wood. This time the 54th Brigade was charged with taking Thiepval itself: the 12th Middlesex and 11th Royal Fusiliers would lead the way with the 6th Northamptons coming up in reserve as required. When the orders were given to Lieutenant Colonel Frank Maxwell VC of the 12th Middlesex, he knew that all his accumulated military skills and a large slice of sheer good fortune would be required if he and his men were to have any chance of surviving their daunting task.
July 1st was a playground compared to it and the resistance small. I confess I hated the job from the first. So many attempts had been made, and so many failures, that one knew it could only be a tough thing to take on and I hadn’t personally any particular hopes of accomplishing it. More especially as the distance to be covered, nearly one mile, was enormous for these attacks under any circumstances, and under the special one of country absolutely torn with shell for three months it was, I considered, an impossibility.9
Lieutenant Colonel Frank Maxwell, 12th Battalion, Middlesex Regiment, 54th Brigade, 18th Division
The artillery opened up and provided a concentrated barrage, which crashed shells liberally across the German defences.
Shells crashed over and around our trenches, machine guns chattered as their fire swept to and fro across our path as we stumbled forward though No Man’s Land doubled up in the faint hope of dodging bullets. We had been told not to bunch up together as that would be an easy target, so from the first each man was on his own. Here and there were men tangled up in barbed wire, many dead. The ground was up hill and we did not have far to go to reach the German front line smashed by our artillery, where we found a few Germans.10
Private Reginald Emmett, 11th Battalion, Royal Fusiliers, 54th Brigade, 18th Division
Here the surviving Fusiliers took their awful vengeance, hunting down their quarry in a manner that combined bloodlust with a murderous efficiency.
We met Boches running about, scared out of their wits, like a crowd of rabbits diving for their holes. Men were rushing about unarmed, men were holding up their hands and yelling for mercy, men were scuttling about everywhere, trying to get away from that born fighter, the Cockney, but they had very little chance. I had the pleasure of shooting four of them before I was wounded in the wrist. After this everything seems blurred.11
Second Lieutenant George Cornaby, 11th Battalion, Royal Fusiliers, 54th Brigade, 18th Division
With the German First Line successfully overrun, the men of the 11th Royal Fusiliers pushed further forward as fast as they could in the appalling conditions. Private Emmett was heading for what little remained of Thiepval Chateau.
We shot anything that moved and dragged ourselves out and on to the next trench. We had been told to make for the ruins of a castle and, dazed and exhausted as I was, I dragged myself to a little hill where there was a pile of stones—all that was left of the castle I supposed. Here the German machine gun fire became fiercer than ever, just sweeping above the ground. I threw myself into a shell hole and seizing my chance as the bullets whistled over my head, I slid from shell hole to shell hole into a third German trench where some of our boys were held up.12
Private Reginald Emmett, 11th Battalion, Royal Fusiliers, 54th Brigade, 18th Division
At this point the men were told by an officer that they had reached their objective. Emmett’s company had been assigned the role of mopping up the German dugouts. The wounded Second Lieutenant Cornaby watched them in action.
I found myself in a shell hole with one of my men who was also wounded. We patched each other up, and then went on. I have visions of excited men tearing after the Boches, visions of men sitting over dugout entrances waiting to shoot the first Boche that appeared.13
Second Lieutenant George Cornaby, 11th Battalion, Royal Fusiliers, 54th Brigade, 18th Division
Emmett was one of the men lurking at the top of the dugout steps.
I started by shouting down telling any Germans left to come up. If there was no response I fired a few shots and then threw a bomb down. We got quite a few—some came up holding their hands up and shouting, ‘Kamerad!’; others held up photographs of their wives and children. We had to be very quick on them, for some still had a bit of fight left in them and pulled out revolvers, but we soon knocked them off. The survivors were sent back down the line in charge of a corporal, but many got shot on the way, for many of our boys were mad with what they had gone through and the strain of it all, and just shot anything in a German uniform.14
Private Reginald Emmett, 11th Battalion, Royal Fusiliers, 54th Brigade, 18th Division
Private Fuller of the 8th Suffolks of the neighbouring 53rd Brigade saw an awful sight as they hunted down any resisting Germans.
One was lying buried almost to the neck by a shell which had dropped near, but still alive. I shall never forget the expression on this man’s face—ghastly white, his eyes staring with terror, unable to move, while our chaps threw bombs past him down the dugout stairs, and the enemy inside threw their bombs out.15
Private Sydney Fuller, 8th Battalion, Suffolk Regiment, 53rd Brigade, 18th Division
The 12th Middlesex also fought its way through to the ruins of the Thiepval Chateau, which Colonel Frank Maxwell immediately made his battle headquarters. His responsibilities were fast expanding as both Colonel Carr of the 11th Royal Fusiliers and Colonel Ripley of the 6th Northamptons were knocked out in the fighting. The simply irrepressible Colonel Maxwell took effective command of all three battalions.
It was an extraordinarily difficult battle to fight, owing to every landmark, such as a map shows, being obliterated—absolutely and totally. The ground was, of course, the limit itself, and progress over it like nothing imaginable. The enemy quite determined to keep us out as they had so many before. And I must say that they fought most stubbornly and bravely. Probably not more than 300–500 put their hands up. They took it out of us badly, but we did ditto, and—I have no shame in saying so—as every German should in my opinion be exterminated—I don’t know that we took one. I have not seen a man or officer yet who did anyway.16
Lieutenant Colonel Frank Maxwell, 12th Battalion, Middlesex Regiment, 54th Brigade, 18th Division
This was the old cruelty of the medieval wars. Fight to the end and no mercy given or to be had at the last. Small isolated parties of soldiers from both battalions fought their way down the trenches that filled the village area. Bombs were the main weapon, followed by the quick deadly rush with the bayonet. It was incredibly difficult to determine what was going on, and even more difficult to keep General Maxse at the 18th Division Headquarters abreast of the situation.
Perhaps the most trying business is to keep your generals informed of how things are going. It is extraordinarily difficult, for on a field like that at Thiepval, telephone lines don’t remain uncut by shells for more than five minutes. And yet they must know things of course, and must get their information by lamp or runner. By lamp it is laborious for no answer to say, ‘Message’, or rather ‘Word received’ is possible in case the enemy should see the replying lamp and put artillery on to its position. If the message is sent by runner, it means long distances on foot—by day the runner is usually killed or wounded, by night he gets lost!17
Lieutenant Colonel Frank Maxwell, 12th Battalion, Middlesex Regiment, 54th Brigade, 18th Division
When night fell they held the entire village except for the north-west corner where a strong German machine-gun post still held out. Consolidation was all important for they were sure there would be a German counterattack sooner rather than later.
We started to get the trench ready to resist, building up the parapet facing the other way round. This meant heaving the German dead bodies over the top, a gruesome job which covered us with blood. This done we waited through the night. Some explored the dugouts which were well supplied with drink and cigars and came up wearing German helmets. Those who had them divided up their rations and tried to get a little sleep through sheer exhaustion. The counter-attack never came.18
Private Reginald Emmett, 11th Battalion, Royal Fusiliers, 54th Brigade, 18th Division
Colonel Maxwell spent that night at the Thiepval Chateau.
I had a safe place in a pile of ruins which managed to ward off shells and all the other unpleasant things of a modern battle. It was a very busy night for the me though, and not unmixed with anxiety—in fact very much to the contrary.19
Lieutenant Colonel Frank Maxwell, 12th Battalion, Middlesex Regiment, 54th Brigade, 18th Division
As Maxwell wrote these words in a letter home he was being observed by a slightly awed young officer of the 11th Royal Fusiliers, who was experiencing the full force of Maxwell’s slightly irascible personality for the first time.
For some hours during the night Colonel Maxwell was writing diligently page after page—it was supposed popularly to be a letter to his wife. Shells were passing over and dropping all the time, and one runner who had the wind up gave a groan every time one came. Suddenly Maxwell got up from his writing, saying, ‘I can’t stand this any longer—send that man here!’ He then told everyone round to stand in line, said, ‘I’ll give him the first kick—the rest of you pass him along!’ and the runner was passed out into the dark.20
Second Lieutenant George Cornaby, 11th Battalion, Royal Fusiliers, 54th Brigade, 18th Division
BY THE TIME night fell on 26 September, the assault battalions of the Reserve Army were simply exhausted and the reserve battalions were moved forwards. In doing so they were threatened by the vicious German counter-bombardment that fell all across the newly captured trenches. Of course, the Germans had the range taped to an inch.
Dusk was creeping up fast and then came the biggest barrage Jerry ever sent over and well we knew it. We rushed about in all directions and dived into the old trenches that were knee deep in oozy, greasy mud, running from bay to bay, to escape the jagged metal showering down from the HE. It fell like white hot cinders around us and sizzled in the wet earth of the trench. This went on throughout the hours of darkness until dawn came, when the enemy gunners ceased firing, as they didn’t want to be spotted by our aircraft. What a sight met our gaze in daylight. The trench must have been a terrible hot spot during the past few weeks, for buried in its walls were dozens of bodies, both British and German, rotting in the wet earth. A khaki-clad leg or arm protruded from the sides and a couple of Jerries wrapped in blankets, complete with jackboots, were acting as silent sentinels either side of a dugout. During the night my mates and I had been close companions to all these corpses. The ‘lull before the storm’ as we called the silence that daylight brought, enabled us to leave the ‘mortuary’ and look further afield. More horrors were brought to our eyes. What a sight! A huge crater about 50 yards away, its occupants were the dead of our soldiers who made the advance on the 1st July—nearly three months before. They lay, sat or reclined in all positions, skeletons covered with the greenish skin and flesh of decomposition. One that I noticed in particular was lying on his back, his belly a moving mass of maggots. I was about to retreat to the trench when our captain came across to reprimand us for being away from our positions. Then he ordered us to search the bodies for their personal belongings and pay books. This helped to clear up the ‘missing believed killed’ problem. We found out that they were from the West Country—the Dorsets in fact. It wasn’t a very pleasant task.21
Private Thomas Jennings, 6th Battalion, Royal Berkshire Regiment, 53rd Brigade, 18th Division
In a state of shock, Jennings and his Lewis gun team were allotted a dugout for the night. Here further horrors awaited them.
With the light of a candle we looked round our new quarters. A German officer, bare from the waist up was lying on a bunk with a mass of bandages around his middle. He had died from a severe wound. Another Jerry was lying dead on the floor. Rather reluctant to haul them up the twenty odd steps, we covered them with blankets and promptly forgot them. It was a case of ‘out of sight out of mind’.22
Private Thomas Jennings, 6th Battalion, Royal Berkshire Regiment, 53rd Brigade, 18th Division
Next morning there were further reminders of the bitter fighting that had gone on over the last three months on Thiepval Ridge.
We investigated all the trench, from one end to the other. In the next bay were three Jerries kneeling in a pool of blood. Their tunics were blood-red instead of field grey, their faces from the forehead to the chin were missing, completely blasted away. But why were they kneeling? Had they been at prayer? Going in the other direction we came across a strange sight. There were perhaps a dozen or more Jerries on steps that appeared to be emerging from a dugout. They were as dead as doormats and I was prompted to give the first one a push and send them all tumbling to the bottom. Well I didn’t succumb to the temptation.23
Private Thomas Jennings, 6th Battalion, Royal Berkshire Regiment, 53rd Brigade, 18th Division
That same night the 7th Bedfords also infiltrated their way forward to relieve the captors of Thiepval; ready to spring forward to clear the remaining north-west of Thiepval village before dawn on the morning of the 27th. Amongst them was Lieutenant Tom Adlarn who was temporarily in command of a company. At the colonel’s briefing he was given his deceptively simple instructions: under the cover of darkness they were to break into the German trench and then bomb their way along to establish strong outposts on the trenches leading directly into the heart of the threatening Schwaben Redoubt, slightly to the north of the village.
The guides that were taking us up all got lost except in my company. I thought, ‘Yes, it would be us!’ Luckily, just before we started the attack my company commander came and took over. It had taken us so long to get into position that it was quite daylight. I knew that we weren’t supposed to do this in daylight but he said, ‘Well, get along!’ And we got over. I was lucky because the part my platoon was opposite was only about 100 yards, then the trench swung back 45 degrees. We got a certain way then the machine guns started and we all went in the shell holes.24
Lieutenant Tom Adlam, 7th Battalion, Bedfordshire & Hertfordshire Regi
ment, 54th Brigade, 18th Division
Lieutenant Tom Adlam was certainly no ordinary young man. He was not prepared to sit around and wait for something to happen. He would make things happen and trust to his own luck come what may.
I thought, ‘We’ve got to get in this trench somehow or other. What are we going to do about it?’ So I went crawling along from shell hole to shell hole, till I came to the officer in charge of the next platoon. I said, ‘What do you think about it, “Father”?’ We always called him ‘Father’, that was his nickname. He said, ‘I’m going to wait here till it gets dark then crawl back, we can’t go forward’. I said, ‘Well I think we can! Where I am, I’m not more than 50 yards from the trench and I think I can get in’. He shook hands with the solemnly and said, ‘Goodbye, old man!’ I said, ‘Don’t be such a damn fool, I’ll get back all right, I’m quite sure I can get back!’ It didn’t worry me, it seemed—of course, I was abnormal at the time, I didn’t feel that there was any danger at all at that moment. I got back to my platoon. I went across to them and said, ‘You all got a bomb?’ We always take two bombs with us. And I said, ‘Well, get one in your hand, pull out the pin. Now hold it tight, as soon as I yell, “Charge!” stand up and run, two or three yards, throw your bomb, and I think we’ll get into that trench, there’s practically no wire in front of it.’ 25
Lieutenant Tom Adlam, 7th Battalion, Bedfordshire & Hertfordshire Regiment, 54th Brigade, 18th Division
His men could easily have taken a very jaundiced view of Adlam’s zeal and determination to get forward at all costs. Their lives were at stake, but they knew that they had no real say in the matter. Yet Adlam’s powers of leadership and his blowtorch style of courage seem to have inspired them forward.
