by Mark Zuehlke
Peck’s other two forward company commanders were making similar pleas, but he had only one No. 1 Company platoon and sixty-eight men from No. 2 Company in reserve. Committing them required brigade approval, but Brig. George Tuxford refused with the argument that the Can Scots already had too many of their troops in the front lines.
At 0230 hours on September 6, the battalion intelligence officer, Lt. Edward Hart reported to Peck after a personal reconnaissance forward. Not only had they taken terrible casualties, Hart said, but the Canadian Scottish were holding a front 350 yards longer than assigned. Peck passed the information to Tuxford with the additional argument that his company commanders would not seek reinforcements unless they were needed. Tuxford relented and, by 0330, those men of No. 2 Company held in reserve were on the move.9 Thirty minutes later the divisional artillery began engaging suspected German gun positions with a fire rate of ninety shots per battery.10
The Canadian gunners were shooting blind, however, at only suspected targets. Their German counterparts had observers on the high ground who were able to see the Canadian Scottish positions and, throughout the day, they pounded them with artillery and mortar fire. One exploding shell killed a company runner while wounding Lt. Harold Strang and CSM Bernard Lunn with shrapnel. Six other men died instantly when a shell landed right on their position. Having observed these men’s deaths, the German spotters were able to direct a squad of infantrymen to seize their position. The Can Scots only took it back by mounting a bayonet charge. A No. 4 Company Lewis gun team was then wiped out while trying to mount their gun on a parapet. All attempts to remount the undamaged gun resulted in it being blown back down by a shell.
Lt. Hart came forward at dusk to take a head count. He discovered No. 3 Company had been reduced to Major John Hall, CSM George Palmer, and twelve men. No. 4 Company counted fewer than twenty. The battalion’s grip was desperately weak with one platoon from No. 2 Company spread across a long stretch on the right flank and the other broken up to bolster the ranks of these two badly reduced companies. When this information was passed to Tuxford, the brigadier ordered the 16th Battalion relieved that night by companies from the 14th and 15th Battalions. Heavy shelling turned the relief into another drawn-out affair, concluded only on the afternoon of September 7. One Can Scot, with the battalion from its 1914 formation, declared that “Mouquet Farm was the most nerve-racking, hellish time I ever put in; a lifetime in three days, I shudder at the thought of my experiences there.”11
The day after the Canadian Scottish left the line, so too did the rest of 3rd Brigade, with 2nd Canadian Infantry Brigade taking its place. Such confusion reigned because of artillery fire that control of the Fabeck Graben Trench section was lost to a hasty German attack. What was to have been a simple period of front-line duty served the brigade a butcher’s bill worthy of outright battle—970 killed or wounded.12 The fallen included 349 Canadian Scottish, with one officer killed and eight wounded plus 97 other ranks dead and 243 injured.13 Except for Second Ypres, the battalion had never suffered such a loss. Added to the men killed or suffering from physical wounds were those diagnosed with shell shock. Most galling was the fact that almost every casualty, whether physical or psychological, resulted from artillery fire. This aptly reflected the prevailing tactical belief of late 1916 that “the artillery captures the ground; the infantry occupies it.” But Pozières Ridge typified “the worst stage of [this tactic’s] evolution; a battle where two were playing at the game of attrition; an artillery duel where men, as the victim and plaything of mechanical forces, were subjected to the tortures of the damned.”14
In mid-September, 1st Division moved into corps reserve as the other two divisions took over in readiness for the coming British offensive. Two full armies this time would concentrate on a 10-mile section of ground with Fourth Army immediately right of the Canadians putting in the main thrust that Haig hoped would break through all the way to Bapaume, a gain of about six miles. The Canadians would protect Fourth Army’s left flank with an advance across a 2,200-yard front directed at Courcelette. Along the Albert-Bapaume road immediately adjacent to the Fourth Army, 2nd Canadian Infantry Division would launch the main assault, while 3rd Canadian Infantry Division would concentrate on overrunning Mouquet Farm and the most westerly portion of Fabeck Graben Trench.
A bloody fight was certain. Included in the first objective was a thousand-yard-long section of Candy Trench, which extended southeast from Courcelette to pass in front of Martinpuich, and lay a thousand yards from the Canadian lines. Securing the trench’s left flank was the heavily fortified ruins of Sugar Factory, about 500 yards south of Courcelette. Sugar Trench trended southwest from behind the factory toward Mouquet Farm which, at 400 yards’ distance, was the closest point to the Canadian front. These trenches and any nearby ruined buildings bristled with machine guns. Courcelette itself was a fortress, its cellars augmented by countless dugouts and large underground galleries that transformed it into a deadly rat’s nest.
But the British had a couple of innovations—one entirely new and the other a refinement of past tactics—that they hoped would give them the advantage. First was the tank Haig had been awaiting. The Mark I was a massive waddling 26.5-foot-long hulk—trailing two heavy wheels intended to reduce shock and aid steering that added yet another six feet to its length. It was 14 feet wide and 7.5 feet high and weighed 28 tons. Its eight-man crew (four of whom operated the complex drive mechanism) was armed with either two naval 6-pounder guns or four 7.62-millimetre Hotchkiss machine guns mounted on either side. Powered by a six-cylinder, 105-horsepower Daimler engine, its top speed was 3.7 miles an hour, but over the heavily shelled ground of No Man’s Land that speed was effectively halved. Caterpillar tracks provided traction and its awesome length meant the tank could span a ten-foot-wide trench without tipping in.15 Forty-nine tanks were available, but only seven were assigned to the Canadians—all going to support 2nd Division with one held in reserve. Each leading brigade would have three tanks.16 Five infantrymen were detailed to each tank, their task to pull wounded comrades out of the way to prevent their being crushed.
Mechanically undependable and few in number, the tanks were not considered a decisive force. Because of this, Haig’s trust was weighted to the artillery, but this time adding a new twist as to how it was delivered. The July offensives had proven it was “fallacy” to expect “that nothing could exist at the conclusion of the bombardment in the area covered by it” and infantry would stroll in and take over.17 Long waves of infantry being butchered by machine guns left untouched by the artillery proved this. The solution was for the infantry to advance behind the shelter of a “creeping barrage.” For Canadian Corps this meant “the first large-scale rolling barrage ever … fired by Canadian gunners.” At Zero Hour the guns would rain shrapnel on a sector 50 yards in front of the German trenches. Sixty seconds later the barrage would lift to directly flail the trenches for three minutes. Thereafter each lift would advance a further 100 yards at three-minute intervals, creeping ahead of the advancing infantry until they reached the final objective. These objectives, including Candy Trench, would be saturated for six minutes before the artillery advanced again in three more lifts, staged three minutes apart, until reaching the end point for the creep directly between Courcelette and Martinpuich—a full 3,000 yards from the Canadian start point.18
On September 15 the artillery arrayed to support the Canadians numbered sixty-four heavy and 234 field guns—their wheels literally brushing each other in the gun pits behind Pozières. It was the same elsewhere so that literally “mile upon mile of batteries of all calibres [were] massed along the front.”19 For the past three days these guns had been relentlessly battering the German lines. Now the guns fired in unison at 0620, the concussion and explosions making the ground tremble.
As the assaulting battalions went over the top, they could hear none of the shouts or whistles of the officers over the din of shells roaring overhead and the explosions ahead. But words were
unnecessary. The men were well briefed. In seven minutes, the first of the seven successive waves sent forward reported being on the first objective. The forward German trenches had been obliterated, their occupants mostly killed by shrapnel injuries to the head. A German counter-barrage began cutting down Canadians as they renewed the advance but, at 0700 hours, 4th Canadian Infantry Brigade reported it was inside Candy and Sugar trenches with the 6th Brigade reaching its objectives forty minutes later. Brutal hand-to-hand fighting cleared Sugar Factory with 125 Germans surrendering.
The contribution the tanks made to this success was forever shrouded in the fog of war. Some said they were pivotal in suppressing German fire from the Sugar Factory, but only two were known to have got anywhere near the place with three of the others becoming stuck and a fourth breaking down. The two that remained operational withdrew soon after Sugar Factory’s capture.20
Lt.-Gen. Julian Byng ordered the attack renewed at dusk, and a two-day street fight ensued in Courcelette, with the bayonet figuring as the prominent weapon. It ended with the town taken. Meanwhile, 3rd Division had gained control of a significant portion of Fabeck Graben and, to its left, II British Corps had pushed forward 400 yards. Within a few days 3rd Division declared Mouquet Farm taken but, when it was relieved by British troops on the evening of September 16, they discovered Germans still hiding in the deep tunnels there. Close fighting cleared them out. The week-long fight cost the Canadian Corps 7,230 casualties.21
Despite Fourth Army’s being the main offensive effort, it had fared less well than the Canadians. Although Martinpuich fell on September 22, the attack then ran out of steam and the Germans quickly formed a new defensive line running from Morval past Gueudecourt and the Albert-Bapaume road at Le Sare about a mile north of Courcelette.
Rain mired the battlefield at the end of September and both sides spent the interval of poor weather readying for another round. On September 18th, 1st Canadian Division relieved 2nd Division. The plan was to renew the offensive on September 26, with 1st Division putting two brigades up front on the left while the slightly rested 2nd Division returned its 6th Brigade to the northern outskirts of Courcelette. First Division had its 2nd Canadian Infantry Brigade on the left and 3rd Canadian Infantry to the right, with its shoulder touching the lines of 6th Brigade. In this formation, Canadian Corps would drive northward on a 3,000-yard front to break the defences atop a low spur projecting eastward from the Thiepval Ridge. Three trenches stood in the way—Zollern Graben, Hessian, and Regina. Branching off to the southeast toward Courcelette from the latter was Kenora Trench. Intelligence reports warned Kenora was “one of the deepest and strongest trenches … ever seen.” Regina was farther away, though, about 1,000 yards from the start point.22 The Canadians were not attacking alone. On the left were the 18th and 11th Divisions of II Corps from the Reserve Army. This meant the offensive spanned a 6,000-yard front, stretching from Courcelette to Thiepval. Haig’s intention was to gain control of Thiepval Ridge, which would deny the Germans the ability to overlook the British rear areas.
After being briefed at 3rd Brigade headquarters, Lt.-Col. Jack Leckie led his officers and non-commissioned officers to the top of Pozières Ridge for a look at the ground. To the east they could see the German lines. Leckie pointed out Kenora Trench, which from this distance “did not appear to be of any particular strength. It had an excellent field of fire, but there was little wire in front of it. The 16th parties were confident that it could be captured with ease. The ground beyond was open country untouched by shell fire; the fields looked fresh and green. The towns of Pys and Miraumount in the distance seemed intact.” While Canadian Corps headquarters had received sound intelligence on Kenora’s defensive strengths, this information was not passed down to divisional level. So Leckie and the other Can Scots could only draw conclusions on what they saw from the ridge.
Two days before the attack scheduled for September 26, Brig. George Tuxford told Leckie his battered battalion would play a minimal role—advancing one and a half companies behind the Royal Montreal Regiment to clean up any pockets of resistance it bypassed.23 While the two men talked, the supporting artillery began to thunder. Until the assault, the guns would fire continuously, drenching German positions with explosives intermixed with a generous dose of gas shells.
As night fell on September 25, No. 2 Company’s senior surviving officer, Lt. Henry Duncan, led his men and half of No. 4 Company toward 14th Battalion’s lines. The Montreal battalion had sent a guide who quickly became disoriented. After several hours blundering about in the darkness, he brought the party unintentionally to the Courcelette’s outskirts. German artillery suddenly began shelling them, and as the Can Scots moved warily into the ruins, a soldier ran toward them.
“What’s all the rush, fellow?” called one of Duncan’s sergeants.
“Wait, and you’ll damn well soon see,” the man shouted over a shoulder as he sprinted out of the village. The sergeant advised Duncan they should get through Courcelette as quickly as possible and trotted forward. Duncan signalled for the others to match the pace and they “were hardly out of the village when a hurricane of five point nines swept into it, letting us know what we missed.” The guide remained disoriented, leading them on a wander into No Man’s Land that ended only when he tripped upon a sap (an enemy-dug trench providing the Germans with a concealed approach to the Canadian lines) that led to the Royal Montreal Regiment’s forward trenches. Dawn was breaking and Duncan figured it a miracle their sojourn in No Man’s Land had not brought them into contact with any German patrols or drawn their fire.24
Zero Hour was set for 1235 hours, so Duncan and his men took up a position in a trench behind the Montrealers. All along the front, 3rd Brigade’s troops were packed tightly into jumping-off trenches so shallow they had to crouch. Just before the whistles sounded, officers signalled them to stand, straighten their gear, and fix bayonets. Suddenly bullets, like so many thousands of bees, buzzed overhead causing many of the men to reflexively crouch back down until they realized the fire was going outward. For the first time, Canadian gunners manning Vickers machine guns were firing their weapons indirectly in hopes of catching any reinforcements in the open before they could reach the forward trenches.25 A minute after the machine guns opened fire, eight hundred artillery pieces unleashed a barrage of shrapnel and explosive shells. Those shells were roaring overhead as the first wave surged forward. This was quickly followed by a second, and then the Canadian Scottish detachment headed into No Man’s Land behind the Royal Montreal Regiment.26 Brigadier Tuxford thought the Royal Montreal Regiment and 48th Highlanders putting in the attack were “moving well” and that the supporting “barrage [was] beautiful.”
Between the start line and Kenora, the Germans had constructed a 250-yard-long trench codenamed Sudbury, which angled to the east off Courcelette-Grandcourt road. This trench formed the boundary between the two 3rd Brigade battalions, but neither bothered clearing it of enemy troops. That job fell to Duncan’s Can Scots.
Approaching the trench they came upon “a gruesome spectacle.” Inexplicably the Germans had abandoned the trench in favour of lying out in the open on its front slope where they had been flayed by shrapnel. A long line of bodies dangling head down over the trench parapet indicated most had realized the error too late to return to its cover. The trench itself was clogged with others who had either succumbed to wounds or who were still dying. Forty to fifty surviving Germans offered a stiff fight until the Canadian Scottish killed them. Another forty had offered no resistance, waiting meekly to surrender.
Dead or alive Duncan, was surprised to see that all these troops were “of excellent physique” and wore new uniforms. The trench was well stocked with “soda water, small bottles of brandy, wine, and boxes of cigars.” Leaving the trench behind, Duncan led his men along a sunken road to clean out a series of dugouts. Rather than breaking into each dugout to engage the Germans with rifles and bayonets, Duncan’s men instead threw phosphorous bombs—a �
�jam pot” bomb filled with phosphorus—inside. The bombs released a “white pungent vapour, sufficiently powerful to overcome any man still taking refuge underground.” Dugouts cleared, Duncan declared the mopping up over and returned his men to the cover afforded by Sudbury.27
The two assaulting battalions, meanwhile, had gotten separated when the 48th Highlanders met heavy resistance from dugouts in No Man’s Land. Speeding on alone, the Royal Montreal Regiment plunged into Kenora Trench, where most of the defenders opted to surrender rather than fight, and reported the objective secure at 1322 hours. They began sending large groups of prisoners back. Just as the Montrealers began to relax, however, the Germans struck back by counterattacking from both flanks and German artillery precisely targeted the trench. Casualties mounted alarmingly and, twice, the battalion was driven out of Kenora entirely. Each time it was regained in vicious hand-to-hand fighting.
It was mid-afternoon before the 48th Highlanders advanced out of No Man’s Land into a gap between Hessian and Kenora Trenches and dug in on the slope of Thiepval Ridge about 150 yards short of Regina Trench. On the left, 2nd Canadian Infantry Brigade had gained its objectives on the ridge’s summit but was fighting off repeated counterattacks. II British Corps had gained a toehold in Thiepval village and captured the western half of Zollern Graben Trench. But between its flank and that of Canadian Corps a gap had opened and the Germans still controlled most of Thiepval Ridge.
Lt.-Gen. Byng’s intention for the morning was that his 2nd Division would secure the German front northeast of Coucelette while 1st Division seized Regina Trench. Tuxford, however, was worried that 3rd Brigade’s heavy casualties were such that even “to hold position taken, I may require considerable reinforcements.” The brigade’s ability to reinforce the captured front with its own men was limited, the 48th Highlanders reporting they had sent “all available men to hold this line” and desperately needed more troops from other units to help them hold on through the night. By nightfall, the 48th had every man it could find up front and still counted only 150 troops stretched in a thin line that was unable to tie in with the Royal Montreal Regiment on its right. This battalion controlled a 200-yard stretch of Kenora Trench but was constantly engaged and also plagued by friendly artillery fire that kept chewing up one of its flanks. A fragmented signal to Tuxford reported that the Montrealers had “taken over German bombs and can use them.… Will hold position until further orders. Kindly send up reinforcements. Have fairly good trench, 2 M.Gs., very little ammunition. Great number of wounded between here and [Battalion Headquarters].” A following message sent at 1840 reported thirty percent casualties, but morale remaining good. Again, reinforcements were urgently requested—as “we now have every available man in the line.”28
