The job of busting this defensive network fell to 55-year-old details man Lieutenant-General Sir Henry Horne.13 Before the war Horne had served in India and South Africa, where he burned Afrikaaner farms in a failed attempt to quell resistance.14 His previously non-descript career bloomed in 1914–16. Being a Haig protégé helped, as did the fact that both men were devoutly religious. Horne sometimes went to church twice on a Sunday. But his rise to corps command in 1916 had more to do with Haig’s and Fourth Army commander General Sir Henry Rawlinson’s appreciation of his scientific, open-minded approach to warfare and a ‘meticulous and indefatigable personal attention to details of organisation and execution.’15 Colleagues thought Horne courteous, charming, modest, honest and unpretentious,16 but Afrikaaner families probably still saw him as a war criminal. While artilleryman Horne was said to be sociable and even humorous among friends, outsiders thought him sparing with words.17 He possessed a ‘wise, kindly look, with a suspicion of a smile coming through his seriousness.’18 He liked horse-riding, hunting and fishing, found coarse language distasteful and later hypocritically raged against German scorched-earth tactics.19 Horne had a ‘spare, almost gaunt, figure, his sharp quasi-aquiline features were the very personification of dynamic energy.’20 There were many shades of grey to Horne’s nimble, ruthless mind.
Horne was quick to spy opportunity, open to taking calculated risks and prone to impatience. This last characteristic can be seen in Horne’s sacking of Major-Generals Thomas Pilcher, 17th (Northern) Division, and Ivor Philipps, 38th (Welsh) Division, in early July 1916 after they failed to produce results to his satisfaction.21 He said Pilcher could not get the 17th to ‘advance quickly,’22 while he thought politically appointed Philipps ignorant and incompetent.23 Horne’s eye for opportunity and measured risk-taking was all about securing operational success based on an objective assessment of facts, which was helped by his temperament being ‘always under complete control.’24 This would be seen in his plans to tackle the Fricourt–Mametz salient, and was present still in September 1918 when he approved Lieutenant-General Sir Arthur Currie’s daring and ultimately successful scheme to break through Canal du Nord.25 ‘I don’t believe I ought to let them do it,’ he said of the Canadian Corps,26 but agreed after balancing potential risks against rewards.27 Within Horne’s results-driven character there lurked a calculating, dispassionate opportunist with an eye to securing battlefield victory.
Horne’s battle plans wisely treated Fricourt village and wood as significant obstacles to a frontal attack. His final orders proposed a threephase flanking manoeuvre to envelop them and render them untenable by seizing the high ground on either side.28 From a total corps of 76,671 officers and men, an estimated 18,000 infantry, along with assorted engineers and pioneers, would be directly involved in the attack.29 The first phase of Horne’s plan would see 21st Division take Fricourt Spur, while 7th Division would seize Hill 110 and Mametz. They would then each form defensive flanks facing Willow Stream valley. In the second phase, the divisions would push on to more distant objectives, further isolating Fricourt village and wood. These would be captured in a third phase carried out by 50th Brigade of 17th (Northern) Division, which was otherwise in corps reserve. On paper, Horne’s plan appeared intelligent, conformed to the difficult ground, bypassed the strongest German defences and gave his infantry a fighting chance at producing results.
Even so, valid concerns lingered around the effect that unsilenced German machine-gunners in Fricourt would have on the attack by 21st Division northwest and north of its ruins. Concerns centred on whether 10th West Yorkshires*, of 50th Brigade, would be caught in machinegun enfilade, wrote Temporary Lieutenant-Colonel Robert Collins, 17th (Northern) Division headquarters.30 Collins and the 50th’s commander, Brigadier-General William Glasgow, held significant reservations along these lines, as did Major-General Sir David ‘Soarer’ Campbell, the 21st’s commander from May 1916.31 As Collins explained, ‘It was obvious that machine guns sheltering behind the crater area [known as The Tambour] just west of Fricourt had a glacis slope to shoot up north-west.’32 If not destroyed these weapons could enfilade Glasgow’s 10th West Yorkshires and, further north, 63rd and 64th Brigades as they crossed the exposed no-man’s-land on Fricourt Spur. Collins set out his concerns further: ‘Attack on the machine guns behind the craters was terribly difficult owing to the broken state of the ground. . . . I was terribly worried about the role allotted the 10th West Yorks; the whole of this portion of the attack [by 50th Brigade] did not sound right.’33
Against this backcloth, XV Corps’ artillery had the threefold job of neutralising and destroying enemy infantry, artillery and defensive obstacles. It had gathered about one heavy barrel for every 58 yards of attack frontage, and one field or howitzer barrel for every 25 yards.34 Across the corps’ 5000-yard frontage there were an estimated 200 field guns and howitzers35 and 78 British heavy guns,36 plus an assortment of French field artillery. Because the corps had devoted fewer heavy guns to counter-battery work than others, a greater proportion of its shellfire had been used to break down German defences and resistance.37 Several other factors meant Horne’s gunners were more effective than those further to the north. First, higher ground behind the British lines afforded better observation over the German lines and allowed shellfire to be directed and assessed more accurately. Second, French and XIII Corps’ gunners further south fired into the salient as a safeguard for their own operations, effectively improving Horne’s artillery concentration, bolstering his counter-battery fire and destroying more enemy guns.38 Third, in this part of the battlefield 28th Reserve Division’s gunners had not shown sufficient fire restraint, meaning their batteries behind the salient had been more easily located and destroyed prior to 1 July, undermining their ability to provide defensive shellfire for front-line infantry. On the eve of battle the 28th probably had fewer than 30 guns actually firing in direct support of the Fricourt–Mametz salient,39 and many of these were ‘useless’ weapons.40
All of this meant the 28th’s artillery was unable to effectively seal off no-man’s-land and stop attacking British infantry and reinforcements from moving forward, or limit any break-ins. By dawn on 1 July, XV Corps’ gunners had effectively robbed the 28th of its artillery support in the salient and placed the defensive workload squarely on German infantry.
The point was not lost on Lieutenant-Colonel Henry Bicknell, 4th Middlesex: ‘Another remarkable point, due either to the efficiency of our counter battery work or to the demoralization of the enemy, was the absence of a [defensive] German artillery barrage.’41
Fricourt–Mametz salient was primarily held by Reserve Infantry Regiments 111 (RIR111) and 109 (RIR109). RIR111 was ensconced around Fricourt, while a large portion of RIR109 was around Mametz. Their positions were also sprinkled with soldiers from Infantry Regiment 23 (IR23), several Bavarian pioneer companies and at least three machine-gun sharp-shooter detachments. RIR111 had no fewer than 24 machine guns spread throughout its sector, but mostly in the forward and intermediate trench systems. Around Mametz there were fewer, probably about 16. All told there were about 7000 infantrymen defending the salient.42 RIR109 and RIR111 hailed from the towns, cities and farmlands that now line Baden-Württemberg’s borders with France and Switzerland. RIR109 was drawn from around the industrial cities of Freiburg and Karlsruhe, while RIR111 was recruited from the rural service centres on the northern shores of Lake Konstanz’s satin waters. IR23’s soldiers were from Silesia, now southern Poland, and at times must have struggled to understand the more numerous Badeners and their unfamiliar Swabian dialect.
IN THE 65 minutes before Zero, the ferocity of XV Corps’ barrage escalated sharply. The intensive pummelling of the German front-line system began at 6.25 a.m., with a hurricane bombardment from Stokes mortars starting about an hour later. Gas was released at Fricourt at 7.15 a.m. for 10 minutes, and at 7.26 a.m. smoke discharges took place around the village to screen the Willow Stream–facing flanks of 21st and 7th Divisions
from the prying eyes of machine-gunners in Fricourt village and wood. As one German historian, a veteran of RIR111, later wrote: ‘As it began to get light everything was shrouded in mist, which grew thicker and thicker as [British] gas and smoke were released in several places. . . . Behind this wall [of smoke] the Englishmen prepared to attack.’43 Two minutes before Zero several mines were blown at points along the German line. Two of the largest mines44 — a third in the series failed to blow — were detonated just west of Fricourt to distract the enemy’s attention there and form piles of debris that shielded the 21st’s right flank from machine-gunners in and around the village and a cratered area of no-man’s-land known as the German Tambour (Kniewerk). Private Cyril Stubbs, 10th West Yorkshires, saw the columns of earth rise skyward: ‘The German trenches for a length of 300 yards were sent aloft, and the smoke and chalk dust hung around for several minutes after, for all the world like a thick, fat cloud.’45 German accounts are dismissive of the mines’ effectiveness, however, simply stating that they did not significantly damage their positions.46
In their deep dugouts German soldiers listened for the seven-day barrage to lift, a clear signal that the attack was starting. Some companies were forewarned thanks to a listening device at La Boisselle that intercepted British communications.47 That information was circulated: ‘We got our machine-gun ready on the top step of the dug-out and we put all our equipment on; then we waited,’ said Grenadier Emil Kury, RIR109.48 Morale between dugouts varied. Some soldiers expected to die and prayed;49 others waited patiently to exact revenge for having endured so much shellfire.50 Morale was said to be splendid among soldiers in dugouts further back.51 One Baden soldier noted that there were many infantrymen aged more than 40 in his regiment who were more inclined to surrender and return to their families than risk death.52 Whatever the mood, the audible lifting of the barrage at 7.30 a.m. and the muffled explosions of multiple underground mines across the salient signalled the attack.53
Kury, who was in the trenches at Mametz, recalled the flurry of activity at 7.30 a.m.: ‘Someone shouted, “They’re coming! They’re coming!” We rushed up and got our machine-gun in position. We could see the English soldiers pouring out at us, thousands and thousands of them.’54 So it began.
British infantry had to cross a no-man’s-land 100–400 yards wide, but mostly about 200 yards. Nine of the 10 battalions comprising XV Corps’ vanguard advanced in successive linear waves.55 Two battalions — 9th* and 10th King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry (KOYLI)† — adopted a column formation of successive two-platoon waves because of their narrower attack frontages, while another, 8th Somerset Light Infantry,‡ used a modified linear formation with some elements in artillery formation. Six of the 10 battalions began three to five minutes before Zero, with the remainder stepping forward at 7.30 a.m. The 7th’s five leading battalions progressed either ‘steadily’ or at a ‘walk.’ The 21st’s five lead battalions moved in either ‘quick succession,’ ‘quick time’ or a ‘rush.’ All followed a 50-yardsa-minute creeping barrage that stepped deeper into enemy territory.56 The 21st’s orders said ‘success of the operation will largely depend on troops following up the barrages as closely as possible,’ something not emphasised in the 7th. As it turned out, the creeping barrage provided some cover during the no-man’s-land crossover but it was too thin to suppress all resistance and thereafter moved too quickly for the attacking infantry to keep up.57 Bicknell later assessed the creeping barrage: ‘Owing to severe fighting in and around the German front and support trenches and the heavy losses there the infantry never got near enough to it [the barrage] again for it to be the slightest use. We saw it getting further and further away whilst the intervening ground was full of Germans who were as safe from it as we were.’58
British soldiers generally expected an easy crossover after their artillery had destroyed or suppressed German resistance.59 A 50th Brigade machine-gunner said it ‘seemed impossible for anything to survive in Jerry’s lines.’60 Lieutenant Wilfred Sansom, 174th Tunnelling Company, was in a Russian Sap dubbed L25 beneath no-man’s-land when the 65-minute intensive bombardment began: ‘It was awful, just one terrible roar and the sap wobbled as though drunk.’61 Private George Wilkinson, 10th Yorkshires, thought the ‘whole world seemed to be on fire.’62 Corporal Victor King, 1st Royal Welsh Fusiliers, said the bombardment was ‘like hell let loose.’63 Amid the din one Devonshire soldier distinctly heard ‘larks singing in heaven above, and it lifted my spirits.’64 Stubbs wondered ‘how I would feel when I went over — not frightened, mind you, but puzzled. Well, when I got on to the top it was just like field day.’65
Fifteenth Corps’ operations around the Fricourt–Mametz salient played out as two interrelated acts, each with multiple scenes. The first involved the opening attacks of 7th and 21st Divisions to about 2 p.m. The second was about those divisions’ renewal of operations from 2.30 p.m., with the capture of Fricourt the central focus. As it happened, XV Corps turned in a relatively successful performance when compared with III, X, VIII and VII Corps, but the thread was that battalions attacking furthest from Fricourt advanced deeper into enemy lines than those nearest to the village’s red-brick ruins and fortified cellars, which held German infantrymen and numerous machine guns.
THE CURTAIN LIFTED on the first act with 50th Brigade suffering galling casualties on the western fringes of Fricourt. Tenth West Yorkshires, ordered to wear ‘gas helmets rolled upon the head,’ attacked just northwest of the village, a tickle beyond the two just-blown craters of The Tambour, whose piles of chalkstone spoil were not high enough to screen their advance as intended.66 While two companies crossed the German front line before the defenders could man the parapet, the pair following was annihilated by machine guns in Fricourt and in enfilade from the south and, further away, the southeast.67 The dead lay in rows. A few of the living that reached the German trenches held out until nightfall. Others were isolated and killed near the northwest outskirts of Fricourt. Some hid in a cellar and lived.68 With 710 casualties by day’s end, the battalion practically ceased to exist.69 Nearby, at 7.45 a.m., one company of 7th Yorkshires* was destroyed within moments when its commander, Major Ralph Kent, directed it — for reasons still unknown — to advance directly at Fricourt. It was an error; the company was not supposed to have attacked at this time at all. ‘This seemed so incredible that I could hardly believe it was true,’ said Lieutenant-Colonal Ronald Fife, commanding 7th Yorkshires, of his subordinate’s blunder.70 Of the 140 officers and men of A Company who went forward, 108 were dead or wounded at the hands of at least one German machine-gun team, probably more.71 This company, noted RIR111, evidentally did not anticipate resistance and suffered ‘huge losses’ as it attempted to leave its own trenches in wave formation.72
The dead of 7th Yorkshires and 10th West Yorkshires lay in heaps; the wounded and unscathed hid in shell holes or tried to crawl back. Among the ripening corpses was Bradford-born Private Sam Tomlinson, 10th West Yorkshires. The 19-year-old’s body was later interred at Dantzig Alley British Cemetery with an epitaph chosen by his parents: ‘Too far away thy grave to see, but not too far to think of thee.’
One German machine-gun team on Hill 110 had a clear view over the ribbon of ground that was the scene of the 50th’s tragedy. From more than 1000 yards away, the gun, said one of its five-man team, ‘put down a hail of fire on the attacking enemy. Two companies of British [probably 7th Yorkshires] who attempted to assault from the area of Fricourt Station were quickly caught by our machine gun and suffered dreadful casualties.’73 The gun rattled through some 22,000 rounds during the day. Three of its crew became casualties:74 a small loss in relation to the casualties they had inflicted.
Twenty-first Division’s break-in came high on Fricourt Spur, on the demarcation line between two German regiments. Here, the defences were pulverised, the wire cut, and several machine guns put out of action during the barrage.75 A roughly 170-yard gap had opened between RIR111 and Reserve Infantry Regiment 110.76 Even so
, 64th Brigade’s 9th and 10th KOYLI came under machine-gun fire from the front, Fricourt to the southeast and high ground nearer La Boisselle as it crossed no-man’s-land from 7.25 a.m. One MG08 machine gun began firing even before the British bombardment ceased. The two battalions’ initial waves advanced from a secret Russian Sap known as Dinnet Street, just outside the British wire and about 180 yards from the German line.77 This sap ran parallel to the German parapet and was opened overnight on 30 June. Two other Russian Saps northwest of Fricourt — Balmoral Street and Purfleet, originally intended to be used as flame-thrower emplacements to hose the German front line with liquid fire — appear to have gone unused.78 Crucially, Horne’s effective pre-battle counter-battery fire meant German gunners were only able to lay down the weakest of defensive barrages on no-man’sland, and were insufficient to stop the British infantry.79
Ninth and 10th KOYLI were met with a flurry of stick grenades on reaching the hostile parapet but nonetheless broke into the trench ‘with little delay,’ and quickly pushed the German defenders back.80 Sir Basil Liddle Hart, then a captain in 9th KOYLI and later a military historian and theorist, was there, face to face with the enemy:
They were mostly six footers and they hauled their remaining machine-guns out of the dug-outs and lying in shell-holes fired point blank at us, despite our terrible barrage of shell-fire. Their fire was so deadly that our men were forced to crawl, and this slowed down our advance so that the barrage lifted off the German trenches before we had nearly reached their front line. Our battalion lost about 500 men crossing the 180 yards of No Man’s Land, of whom the majority were only slightly wounded, but unhappily we had 14 officers killed before we reached the German trenches.81
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