by Peter Hart
Second Lieutenant Geoffrey Pratt, 9th Battalion, West Yorkshire Regiment, 32nd Brigade, 11th Division
Nervous that they were not in the right place, Pratt went back and paced out the eighty long paces to check. Then, still uncertain, he went back to the headquarters to report. But the headquarters no longer existed.
Smoke and fire was coming from the entrance. Every dugout in the redoubt had two ways in, so I went down the other and found that a shell had come straight down the stairs blowing everyone there to pieces. I found two men and we set to work clearing out the debris. Soon we came across mangled portions. I came across a man’s shoulder and chest mutilated and raw, and part of a severed head. There was an acrid smell of blood—peculiarly repulsive, and the debris soon resolved itself into merely a mass of loose earth in which the dead men were all mushed up together. We poked about a bit with our fingers, then turned our attention to a lad who had been sitting on the bottom step when the shell entered and was now half-buried. As soon as we cleared him up a bit, I could see that his back was broken, as he could not feel his legs and they lay twisted away from his body in an impossible position. He did not seem to feel much pain, but was very much scared when he saw where his legs were. I gave him a dose of morphia, I had a bottle of tablets, and he said it made him feel better.40
Second Lieutenant Geoffrey Pratt, 9th Battalion, West Yorkshire Regiment, 32nd Brigade, 11th Division
He returned to the trench where he found himself pestered by a German sniper who, in taking pot shots at them, was occasionally making himself just visible.
A lad near me was taking aim at him, ‘I’ll just give t’begger another one!’ he said as I passed, and both sniper and he shot simultaneously. He fell down quite unconscious in the trench and in an unearthly voice cried out, ‘Mother! Mother!’ Then he seemed to come to and tried to pick himself up. The bullet had ploughed through the top of his head, taking part of his brain with it. I picked him up, but he said he could not move his left arm and leg. This seemed to daunt him at first, but he soon picked up spirits and cheerily said he could get away given a little help. A man who seemed to be a pal of his took him off and I never saw him again. He was a lad of about 18. Soon after, I saw a shell drop near the sniper, and I imagined that I saw parts of him go up in the air. Anyway he troubled us no more.41
Second Lieutenant Geoffrey Pratt, 9th Battalion, West Yorkshire Regiment, 32nd Brigade, 11th Division
The pressure around the margins of their position in the Stuff Redoubt was slowly building up.
Those in the post told me that they were worried with bombs from two Boche posts beyond, and whilst I was there the Boche threw two or three egg bombs and a stick bomb which landed near. There was no hope of reaching the Boche with our bombs, as I threw one to find out—the distance must have been about 60 yards. I therefore thought it wise to retire our post out of reach. We did this for about five minutes, but, after considering the position, determined to go back, as the new position was very far from being as good as the old. It was foolish to attempt to retire at all, but I was sick of blood and carnage.42
Second Lieutenant Geoffrey Pratt, 9th Battalion, West Yorkshire Regiment, 32nd Brigade, 11th Division
Then Pratt noticed he could actually see some of the harassing German bombers and snipers. Despite the risks of being sniped himself, Pratt took them on.
I climbed on the trench side and tried to pick off a few Boche with a rifle. They replied readily enough and every shot I fired they sent me one back. At one time we aimed simultaneously—the Boche had a round German cap on—and I saw his cap fly up in the air and imagined I saw his face fall back. So I shouted to the men in the trench that I had shot one, and I did not see this particular man fire again. After this a Boche in a steel helmet took me on, and my place in a shell hole on the left side of the trench began to be too hot for me, for whenever I put up my head, they fired both with rifle and machine gun. I therefore shifted over to a shell hole on the right where there were some pieces of old timber sticking up. By moving about between these two shell holes I got in several more pot shots.43
Second Lieutenant Geoffrey Pratt, 9th Battalion, West Yorkshire Regiment, 32nd Brigade, 11th Division
He then was called to a conference and told that he and his men must take the rest of Stuff Redoubt at all costs. Pratt was to push round the north side, while two platoons of the West Ridings were to go round the south side. All German prisoners were to be bayoneted and thrown over the parapet.
If it came to bombing, it would be soon over one way or the other. I had made up my mind from previous experience that it was no use advertising our presence by chucking bombs forward as we went along. My idea was to go round quickly and silently, and only throw a bomb if absolutely necessary.44
Second Lieutenant Geoffrey Pratt, 9th Battalion, West Yorkshire Regiment, 32nd Brigade, 11th Division
Pratt had difficulty in amassing a trustworthy bombing party with their nerves intact after their experiences over the last 24 hours.
One man begged not to be moved, as he had made a nice funk hole and had a wife and children. I told him not to be a fathead and he reluctantly left the place. Sawyer, Crochan and Doyle I selected and they asked a man called Parkinson to come as well. Parkinson had always been a good sturdy fellow, but I found that he was trembling like a leaf. He said he could not understand why. He was so bad that I told him to sit in a dugout till he felt better. I rooted Westcott out of his dugout, told him the scheme and determined he should come on at the back. I asked Sergeant Beaumont to come with me as NCO. He started to make excuses—he knew nothing about bombing and so form. ‘Alright!’ I said, turning away, ‘You will come Corporal Welsh, won’t you?’ Welsh said he would and we moved up to our position in the post. I then started explaining the scheme to everyone, saying nothing about the bayoneting business. I gave the job of handing the bombs out and seeing to the ammunition to a lad named Gallagher and I divided the party up, making Crochan and Sawyer the throwers. It was now nearly six o’clock and we waited for the barrage. Ten minutes, a quarter of an hour went and nothing happened.45
Second Lieutenant Geoffrey Pratt, 9th Battalion, West Yorkshire Regiment, 32nd Brigade, 11th Division
At 1815 there was still no sign of the anticipated artillery barrage though two men were killed by a single shell that appeared to be dropped short by one of the British heavy guns.
Just after 7 p.m. the barrage started. We were quite close and could see every shell. They seemed all on the mark right along the trench. I had cleared away the barrier and entanglements and immediately the barrage was over we set off. I got some distance bent double and then looked back. I found that I had got a good deal beyond the others. I went back and we all came on. We went about 30 yards, rather too slowly as the men were laden with bombs etc., and I turned back and whispered to Crochan, ‘Have a bomb ready!’ as we were nearing the post. At that moment some bombs exploded close to us. It was dark, but I could see little spurts of green flame and loud cracks. At first I thought someone had dropped some of our own bombs. But immediately after it dawned on the that it was the Boche. I chucked two bombs I was carrying as hard as I could in the direction of the German post and fired my pistol. Then a whole shower of bombs seemed to fall at once and I felt pieces enter my foot, hand, legs and side. I can remember a sort of wail of alarm that we all set up together and I hobbled back as best as I could. I felt knocked to pieces and sure that I could not live long.46
Second Lieutenant Geoffrey Pratt, 9th Battalion, West Yorkshire Regiment, 32nd Brigade, 11th Division
For the moment at least the gallant Pratt was finished and was evacuated back out of the line. It took days of this murderously heavy fighting before the capture of Stuff Redoubt was finally completed. Another German redoubt had fallen. Another step to the British domination of Pozières Ridge and Thiepval Spur.
Both second lieutenant Pratt and Lieutenant Tom Adlam were clearly resourceful leaders with the stuff of her
oes manifest within them. But not everyone could be a hero. One nervous young officer, Second Lieutenant James Meo, had already been out in France for fifteen months before he finally came up into the line for the first time in late September. His experiences may well strike more of a chord in the psyche of the average person.
I went over the top to three listening posts to encourage the new draft men. It was a very wonderful experience, very tiring, especially dodging rifle grenades all day, the same incessant bombardment. What hell it all is. Blood-stained articles still lie about as memories of the slaughter the night before last. The men seem very good, and mixed, old and young. In the afternoon I patrolled alone from 2 p.m. to 4 p.m. Came under shell fire at 3.45 p.m. owing to Germans seeing some of our B Company at work in communications trench. It was hell; it proves to the I am not strong enough to stand it all. From 10.45 p.m. to 2.30 a.m. the Germans bombarded with minenwerfers—hell again. Thank God no one was hurt.47
Second Lieutenant James Meo, 11th Battalion, Royal Sussex Regiment, 116th Brigade, 39th Division
Just two days later the young officer had already realised that he could not cope. Meo was quite simply terrified and not afraid to admit it to anyone who would listen to him. Call it windy, call it nerves, call it neurasthenia—whatever it was poor Lieutenant Meo had it, and he was desperate to get away.
Was sent to doctor yesterday afternoon. The doctor is going to have a board of inquiry, I shall probably get the sack as my nerves are no good.48
Second Lieutenant James Meo, 11th Battalion, Royal Sussex Regiment, 116th Brigade 39th Division
Everything seemed to conspire against his well-being, even his family and friends.
My thirtieth birthday. An awful day. Still in these trenches. In the afternoon I was called to see the doctor. It seems possible that if I live that I may be invalided away. This night I was sent on an ammunition job conducting a party of fifty bombers to stores in close support lines. It was hell! I was already tired and ill. This night we prepared a scheme to draw enemy fire. Oh it was hell! I came back and found a terrible letter from my dear mother, all scrawly and obviously ill. It was an awful night. Yvonne never writes warmly now. She takes absolutely no notice of my birthday. If it had been Captain Fisher or some ‘interesting’ person she would have thought about them and written warm letters.49
Second Lieutenant James Meo, 11th Battalion, Royal Sussex Regiment, 116th Brigade, 39th Division
On the day that Second Lieutenant Pratt was being wounded deep within the death-trap of Stuff Redoubt and while Lieutenant Adlam was earning imperishable glory in the attack on Schwaben Redoubt, the timid Meo was almost beside himself as he heard the thunderous echoes of that titanic battle.
1 p.m.—a terrible bombardment has started, it is simply awful to hear. As I write the guns are crashing, roaring and the din is like a collision of hundreds of bad thunderstorms. God knows what mothers are losing their sons now.50
Second Lieutenant James Meo, 11th Battalion, Royal Sussex Regiment, 116th Brigade, 39th Division
The next two days seemed to last for ever. Ironically, both Adlam and Pratt by this time were being evacuated home to Blighty with their heroes’ wounds.
At last. Reported to 134 Field Ambulance at 9 a.m. with servant. Sent to casualty clearing station at 3, arrived at 5. Examined, and am now going on, but staying the night. Officer in next bed with awful shell shock, also airman with broken nerves. God what sights.51
Second Lieutenant James Meo, 11th Battalion, Royal Sussex Regiment, 116th Brigade, 39th Division
No hero’s wound for Meo. But he was just glad to be getting away with his life. Even as he boarded the hospital train he could not conceal his delight.
At 3.30 I was warned I was going on. At 5 p.m. I was put on the hospital train with crowds of wounded officers. The train is packed with wounded soldiers. Most of the officers wear Tommies’ uniforms. This is all rather a wonderful experience. The thought of being alive for my dear mother is so great in me. My ‘ticket’ is marked with medical signs and ‘nerves and debility’, ear trouble etc.52
Second Lieutenant James Meo, 11th Battalion, Royal Sussex Regiment, 116th Brigade, 39th Division
He was finally sent back to England on 8 October. It should not be forgotten that for all his obvious nerves and possible cowardice, Meo had in fact tried his level best to do his bit and in the end had managed eight days under fire in the trenches. He was, after all, a volunteer. It was just unfortunate that he could not endure the manifold horrors of war. Nevertheless, if he had been a private soldier he would have run the risk of being shot.
I hear I am now off to England at 4.30 p.m. Thank God I am about to leave this miserable country. I hope to God I never return. I have been tortured all the morning by dreadful thoughts. How I wish I had a girl to care for me, waiting in England for me.53
Second Lieutenant James Meo, 11th Battalion, Royal Sussex Regiment, 116th Brigade, 39th Division
The pattern of the fighting on the Somme had now been clearly established. It was fundamentally a battle of the artillery. The British could not advance without it; the Germans could not defend without it. The roar of the guns was unceasing. It could grind away and erode the courage of all but the bravest.
During the night we carried out the (by now) usual programme of continuous shelling. This has been found by statements of prisoners and from captured documents to have a most demoralising effect on the enemy, and to prevent his supplies coming up. Every track and road for miles back is systematically searched, and I have no doubt we pip a good many that way, I didn’t sleep a wink. The incessant noise (to which I am not yet used, after a month’s quiet) kept me awake. We fired 200 rounds, and as we are one of about fifty batteries in the valley all doing the same, and the heavies lined up behind the next crest did their share (about one third of that), there must have been about 15,000 explosive shells from our guns—not to speak of the Boches who don’t take much withiout giving a receipt for it!54
Lieutenant William Bloor, C Battery, 149th Brigade, Royal Field Artillery, 30th Division
Nothing could slaughter like the guns. A mistake in full view of their muzzles was an invitation to disaster for the Germans.
Up at the OP in the morning, and at about 10 a.m. I saw a mass of Boches in open order coming out of Bapaume. My mouth fairly watered for them, but they were right out of my range. They advanced a bit towards Ginchy, and I thought they were going to dig a trench there and I rang up the ‘heavies’ and told them about it. Then to my joy they started advancing again, and I began to think I should have a shoot yet. I got an angle down to the guns, our utmost range, and waited. Started at ’em in about two minutes and had the time of my life. They—there were about two companies—scattered every way and ran down into a fold of ground, nearer me, but out of sight. Put a few more over there, and then gave up till they came into sight again. Three stretcher parties left the place shortly, so I certainly got a bull’s eye. The best shoot I have ever had in my life—the sort of thing that hasn’t happened since the open fighting of 1914. Later on saw another large party near Le Transloy, and the ‘heavies’ made mincemeat of them. This is the life! A gunner comes into his own in this place!55
Lieutenant William Bloor, C Battery, 149th Brigade, Royal Field Artillery, 30th Division
The Somme was becoming a mincing machine for the German Army. Fresh divisions were sent into action, where the British artillery simply chewed them up over a period of days to spit them out as mere shadows of their former selves. Herbert Sulzbach spent some time in St Quentin while en route for leave in Brussels.
In the two hours we had to wait there, a very large number of troops, some in column of route, moved through the town, coming from the Battle of the Somme, on their way to rest stations. They were ragged and filthy, with blunted nerves and indifferent expressions; while other troops, all fresh, clean and without a notion of what it was like, were pushing the other way towards the Somme, to be sent strai
ght into action.56
Sergeant Herbert Sulzbach, 63rd (Frankfurt) Field Artillery Regiment, German Army
The decisive moment of the battle had dawned. The Germans were staggering under the weight of the British attacks, the wearing out battle had reached its peak—the question was, would the Germans crack?
CHAPTER TWELVE
October Attrition
EVEN THOUGH THE SOMME campaign was now moving deep into autumn and the onset of winter was approaching, there was no still no question of abandoning the offensive. On the contrary, to General Sir Douglas Haig and the General Headquarters it seemed that the hammer blows of the previous months seemed to be bearing fruit at last. There were some indications that the German resistance was weakening and the tantalising possibility that they might at long last be on the very verge of collapse. This was in contrast to his own divisions which Haig felt were being bound by their experiences on the Somme into a real army as opposed to a conglomerate of half-trained divisions that had no experience at the sharp end of war. In a letter written to King George V he summarised his confidence for the immediate future.
I venture to think that the results are highly satisfactory, and I believe that the army in France feels the same as I do in this matter. The troops see that they are slowly but surely destroying the German Armies in their front, and that their enemy is much less capable of defence than he was even a few weeks ago. Indeed there have been instances in which the enemy on a fairly wide front (1,400 yards) has abandoned his trench the moment our infantry appeared! On the other hand our divisions seem to have become almost twice as efficient as they were before going into the battle, notwithstanding the drafts which they have received. Once a division has been engaged, all ranks quickly get to know what fighting really means, the necessity for keeping close to our barrage to escape loss and ensure success, and many other important details which can only be really appreciated by troops under fire! The men too, having beaten the Germans once, gain confidence in themselves and feel no shadow of doubt that they can go on beating him.1
