Somme
Page 58
It was still raining, raining like hell, wet through. The whole battalion were on parade, all there, and Major General Shute inspected us. He starts off, the usual stunt, you know, ‘Blah, Blah, Blah!’ What wonderful men we had both on Gallipoli and in France, he’d done this and done that, he was reliable. He says that the place we were going to attack now was one of the most formidable parts of the firing line of the whole of the Western Front, the Germans had been there umpteen months, we know it was all honeycombed with dugouts, we know this, we know that, we’ve had five different attempts—but we must get that ridge at all costs—because if we don’t get that the whole of the advance on the Somme further down towards Bapaume and Pozières would be in danger of being encircled like a pincer movement. He said, ‘I’m going to tell you this much, you know what you have got to do, the more prisoners you take, the less food you’ll get, because we have to feed them out of your rations!’ Now that’s honest God’s truth! That’s General Shute’s instructions to us.29
Ordinary Seaman Joe Murray, Hood Battalion, 189th Brigade, 63rd (Royal Naval) Division
The men of the Hawke Battalion were treated to much the same kind of harangue during their inspection by Shute. Captain Jerrold still remained resolutely unimpressed.
Shute came to inspect us. He wished us luck and told us no prisoners were required. I am afraid we were not amused. After Shute, Sir Douglas Haig. This, of course was our death warrant; only those about to the salute the commander-in-chief.30
Captain Douglas Jerrold, Hawke Battalion, 189th Brigade, 63rd (Royal Naval) Division
The Hawke Battalion had been carefully drawn up in companies for the inspection but the men were surprised by the amount of interest that Haig took in them. They may have been unaware of Haig’s strong suspicion over the quality of the divisions that had served at Gallipoli.
Sir Douglas Haig made no speeches, but talked to all the officers and to most of the NCOs, and forbore from all comment when George Peckham, who had been summoned at the eleventh hour from the estaminet, burst through a hedge to find the inspection of his company actually in progress. George proceeded to explain, after being introduced, that he was a Marine, the implication presumably being that he had only just returned from a long sea voyage and that nothing but wind and tide had made him late.31
Captain Douglas Jerrold, Hawke Battalion, 189th Brigade, 63rd (Royal Naval) Division
As the relationship between the officers of the RND and their grim general simmered nicely to the boil, Captain A. P. Herbert finally hit back hard with his weapon of choice—the pen—in a devastating broadside of doggerel aimed right over the head of Major General Cameron Shute.
The General inspecting the trenches
Exclaimed with a horrified shout
‘I refuse to command a Division
Which leaves its excreta about’
But nobody took any notice
No one was prepared to refute
That the presence of shit was congenial
Compared with the presence of Shute
And certain responsible critics
Made haste to respond to his words
Observing that his Staff advisors
Consisted entirely of turds
For shit may be shot at odd corners
And paper supplied there to suit
But a shit would be shot without mourners
If somebody shot that shit Shute.32
Captain A, P. Herbert, Hawke Battalion, 189th Brigade, 63rd (Royal Naval) Division
The dislike demonstrated by such RND officers was entirely reciprocated and General Shute repeatedly reported numerous examples of what he considered to be their deplorable efficiency to General Headquarters. But the Fifth Army plans for the Battle of the Ancre demanded that the last reserves be thrown in and thus, despite it all, the RND was at last earmarked for serious action for the first time on the Western Front.
It was just the last throw of the year’s campaigning, and we were the last piece. It was a last desperate gamble against all odds, as it seemed; had not our dyspeptic General Shute reported on us time and again as unfit to go into action, and it was by mere chance, not intent, that our still-despised Naval Division and the 51st (Highland) Division, had landed up side by side in front of Beaucourt and Beaumont Hamel. The positions we were to attack were reputed unassailable and we were reputed utterly unworthy assailants. The weather was doubtful; the ground conditions lousy. As usual there were no reserves.33
Captain Douglas Jerrold, Hawke Battalion, 189th Brigade, 63rd (Royal Naval) Division
Many of the men knew what was coming. They remembered reading about Beaumont Hamel in their newspapers way back in July. They may not have grasped all the tactical details, but they knew enough to get the general idea of what they were facing.
We’ve got in mind what we got to do. We know we’re for the slaughterhouse. We know that the 29th Division, the Newfoundlanders, the Essex and everybody else got slaughtered. We know that! We knew that since then there’d been five attempts all beaten back—five!34
Ordinary Seaman Joe Murray, Hood Battalion, 189th Brigade, 63rd (Royal Naval) Division
Following in the footsteps of its predecessors the attacking battalion moved up into the lines on 12 November. The men certainly did not all go forward in a spirit of uncomplaining self-sacrifice. Some of them were voluble in the extreme as they considered their woes.
We were issued with two ‘P’ bombs. Phosphorous bombs, they were new things to us, we’d never seen them before. They were like an elongated jam tin. We had a couple of Mills bombs. Then we got two sacks per section of bombs. Bless my heart and soul if they didn’t come along with the rations. We were given a tin of jam each. Now we’d never had a tin of jam each in the whole time we were in the blinking army. A glass jar of piccalilli, never seen the damned stuff before. Cups hanging here, a mug hanging here, entrenching tool at the back beating a tattoo on the backside, you’ve got your haversack on this side, you’ve got a sack of bombs round your neck, like a blinking Christmas tree. Lousy things, coming up the communication trench, you got tied up with this telephone wire, you pull like hell, then you trip over and the sack would fall in the mud. A wet muddy sack is an uncomfortable thing. We were the front-line attacking troops, we were ahead of everybody, every time all the time. It was still daylight, round about five o’clock. We couldn’t go forward because of the observation balloons and planes flying across the top. We hid in these trenches just outside Hamel. We opened and ate the tin of jam and we ate the piccalilli! Well whether the piccalilli didn’t agree with the jam, or the jam didn’t agree with the piccalilli, I don’t know, but we knew the results afterwards! Anyhow we got rid of that lot.35
Ordinary Seaman Joe Murray, Hood Battalion, 189th Brigade, 63rd (Royal Naval) Division
The fact that they went forward into at least partially sketched out assembly trenches was largely as a result of the much maligned General Shute, who had gained much hard practical experience whilst in command of the 59th Brigade at Guillemont. When it came to the actual fighting, the fussy characteristics that they had so deplored in their leader began to appear in another light. His usual nickname was not only a classic pun ‘Tiger’, but it also suited his aggressive character. ‘Tiger’ Shute was a general who led from the front, who demanded the highest levels of performance from his subordinates; in turn, he used all his experience to try and ensure that his men’s efforts would be crowned with success in battle—where it counted. Shute was well aware that the trenches they were moving up into for the assault were not suitable as jumping off trenches and he had ordered an entire new system dug. The working parties that had to do the work may well have cursed him, but this was to prove a wise precaution.
We had to line up in four waves, so we had to have four jumping-off trenches near enough. We were the first ones, behind us was the Drake, and behind them was the Honourable Artillery Company. So when we got to our own front line we had to count the trenc
hes. One, two, three, four—that’s the HAC; one, two, three, four—that’s the Drake and one, two, three, four—that’s the Hood—so we know where we are. They were only about a foot or two feet deep in places. At that particular place the line ran along and then moved back towards the Ancre. We got to our assembly point at seven o’clock, official records say nine—but that was when it was complete, we were the first ones. The attack was due at 5.45 the next morning. We’d got hours to wait. In the open! In the mist it was, and the rain, people will swear falling into water, awful lot of noise although we tried to keep quiet. We didn’t know where the Germans were, but we knew they were in front. If they knew that 200 yards from them, there was thousands of troops lying out in the open for hours, goodness knows what would have happened. We knew that, we knew the danger we were in. We knew what we had to attack, we were getting a bit shaky, no doubt about it. We’d done all the donkey work and now we have to do all the fighting, why doesn’t somebody else have a go at this lot? We were getting a bit shaky. We ceased to have any conversation, we weren’t quite sure what each man was thinking. We were lying there.36
Ordinary Seaman Joe Murray, Hood Battalion, 189th Brigade, 63rd (Royal Naval) Division
It was a long time to wait. The November night was cold and wet, they had no shelter, no hot food and only the thought of what lay ahead of them to keep them warm.
We of the Hoods, under Colonel Freyberg, were right on the right flank, almost on the river. In fact the river was our boundary. It was dark, misty, there was a slight drizzle; it may have been the mist. So I was lying in this hole, the next man to me was about 5 or 6 feet away. I’ve got a sack of blinking bombs for my head; that was my pillow. It must have been about midnight, but I saw someone come along. I thought to myself, ‘Ooooh blimey, who’s that walking about in front here?’ Normally you would fire, anyone in front of me was an enemy unless you were warned. I heard this fellow talking and I find out its Colonel Freyberg. He’d come along to inspect his troops before the attack. The generals do it 10 miles away, quite safely, but Freyberg he was coming along. He went past the eventually and went on to see his old pal Kelly of B Company. There was Asquith, Freyberg and Kelly were the only three officers left out of the whole crowd, that left Avonmouth on the Grantully Castle in February 1915. Asquith had been pardoned off, they wouldn’t let him go, but Kelly was in charge of B Company. Freyberg said to me, ‘Oh, you here!’ He was quite cheerful, wondering how we were getting on. ‘Do try and get some sleep!’ I suppose we did sleep; exhausted sleep I suppose.37
Ordinary Seaman Joe Murray, Hood Battalion, 189th Brigade, 63rd (Royal Naval) Division
What sleep the men were able to get was fitful, broken by the sounds of battle and a penetrating cold.
In the early hours of the morning, round about five o’clock, we were all woken, perishing cold. A little bit towards Kelly’s place, B Company, there was a little bit of bombing going on. I think our patrol slung a couple of bombs and cleared out, came back again, but that didn’t affect us. There was a Very light up there and this shell hole in front of me, the edges were frozen and every time a gun went off you’d see the quivering of the water. The official record says that someone brought round some tea at five o’clock, quarter past five. I never saw any tea. I’m not saying they didn’t have it but I didn’t have any! About 5.30, most of us started getting warmed up a bit, dancing about, quietly! Then we had to fix bayonets. There’s always a noise with fixing bayonets, a clink, a metallic noise, so you put your tunic round it to deaden it. Up to now, for at least a month at 5.45 in the morning the artillery had an intensive bombardment on the Jerries, always at 5.45. Of course the Jerries, first of all, took that as the prelude to an attack. Nothing happened, the next morning, nothing happened again, after five weeks we did attack, they didn’t think we would having been mislead for five weeks.
At 5.45—all the watches were synchronised—‘Bang! Bang! Bang!’ All of sudden, behind us, the whole sky was red, it reminded me of home a couple of miles across the valley from Conset Iron Company, when they used to draw the furnaces there, it was the same thing. Immediately afterwards you could hear the shells going over your head and really and truly you could almost feel the shells. Then you heard the sound, the light was first, the shell was next and then the sound! There was a lot of them falling short. We expected to be shelled by Jerry, we didn’t expect to be shelled by our own men, but you knew by the thrust which way they were coming. You knew they were your own because they were coming forward. But at the same time, you know, were it not for the artillery barrage then we’d all have been slaughtered we wouldn’t have advanced at all. So it was the lesser of the two evils. We accepted they were doing a brilliant job. We knew we had seven or eight minutes, then the Germans would retaliate, they would bombard beyond the front line to the reserves coming up—which they knew would be there. So the quicker we got out of our positions towards the barrage, in a way the safer we were. When the attack opened at 5.45, we were up, we’d got our gun at what you call the ‘high port’.38
Ordinary Seaman Joe Murray, Hood Battalion, 189th Brigade, 63rd (Royal Naval) Division
Alongside the Hood Battalion were the men of the Hawke Battalion. Captain Douglas Jerrold was with the battalion headquarters party as they, too, watched the seconds ticking down to zero hour.
I had my watch by me, and it was the second hand that I was watching. Wilson, graver than I had ever seen him, was doing exactly the same. The horrible thing, for us, was that it was not our battle. In a matter of seconds the 400 officers and men would have passed out of our knowledge and control. We were to go forward and establish our headquarters in the German front line as soon as it should be occupied.39
Captain Douglas Jerrold, Hawke Battalion, 189th Brigade, 63rd (Royal Naval) Division
When the men went forward, Jerrold’s habitual cynicism was, for once, overwhelmed as he watched his men go forward into the unknown.
I shall never see a sight more noble. I was, you see, in the front row of the stalls. Eight lines of men passed me so closely that I could see every expression on their faces as they faded into the mist, and among all those men walking resolutely to wounding or death, I saw not one expression of fear or regret, or even of surprise.40
Captain Douglas Jerrold, Hawke Battalion, 189th Brigade, 63rd (Royal Naval) Division
On the right the Hood Battalion went forward in fine style attacking towards Dodders Green Lane line. They achieved this without much difficulty, but on their left the Hawke and the Howe Battalions ran into far more severe resistance from the Whaleback Redoubt located between the German First and Second Lines. Coming up behind the Hoods were the 1st Battalion, Honourable Artillery Company.
It was very dark and misty and several times got hung up in the Huns’ barbed wire. I eventually lost touch with our battalion and arrived in the Huns’ front-line trench by myself and found a chap belonging to the RND in there. We at once started bombing and throwing smoke bombs down into the dugouts and it was some time before we got them out. The first one to come out went down on his knees and cried for mercy. I did not have the heart to stick him although I would have liked to. Between us two we took forty or more prisoners.41
Private Stanley Hawkins, 1st Battalion, Honourable Artillery Company, 190th Brigade, 63rd (Royal Naval) Division
Thankfully, General Shute’s more bloodthirsty command not to take prisoners had been ignored by at least some of his mopping-up teams. Back at the various battalion headquarters there was no clue as to what was happening.
We stood there for a quarter of an hour, and I remember turning to Leslie Wilson and saying, ‘No one has come back.’ We wanted, of course, a message to say, quite comfortably, that we had captured the front line. Then we could have sent a message from our own notebooks, and everybody would have been pleased and we should have gone forward to establish our ‘report centre’. That would have been charming. But it had just not happened. And there we were lost in the fog
of war.42
Captain Douglas Jerrold, Hawke Battalion, 189th Brigade, 63rd (Royal Naval) Division
The pain of responsibility was intense. There was no real evidence as to what was the right course of action; a mistake might well, and probably would, be fatal.
Wilson was looking more and more troubled; then suddenly his face cleared of anxiety. I knew him so well that I was ready for his question, ‘Hadn’t we better go on and see what’s happening?’ ‘Go back?’ would have been a question. ‘Go on!’ was an order. So we went. I had laboriously acquired a revolver for the battle, but in my right hand I carried all the documents adjutants are supposed to carry, including even the orders for the battle, in case we ever arrived there. We knew enough by now, however, to realise, that if we got anywhere at all it would be by luck, and if we got anywhere near our destination it would be by using our wits. Then suddenly as I was trying to think if I had forgotten anything, I felt a blow and realised my arm had been shot off. I looked round and found my arm hanging somewhere at my back, but, alas, no revolver. Oddly enough, I hadn’t been knocked out. Indeed I walked on a few yards, looking for my arm, and was really only overcome with the pleasure of finding that it was still there. Then I subsided into a shell hole, and Wilson relieved me of such papers as he wanted, while one of our own orderlies stayed with me and bandaged my arm, with very great skill incidentally. So that was the end of my dream. No heroic exploits, no triumphs, not even a ‘triumph of organisation’.43
Captain Douglas Jerrold, Hawke Battalion, 189th Brigade, 63rd (Royal Naval) Division