Delville Wood

by Ian Uys

  “We found trench warfare quite different to the open warfare we had been used to. We were given part of the trench to man. During the daytime you had to keep your head low, only observing through a periscope. I have heard of men being killed by a sniper when looking through a periscope.

  “During the evening we went out to repair wire entanglements. We were given strict instructions that when the Very lights went up, to keep still and look on the ground. It was a ghostly feeling out there at night. We had to keep a strict guard for enemy night patrols.

  “Once we were standing on the step when suddenly an enemy machine-gun opened up and we all ducked. At that precise moment Col Churchill arrived on the scene and picked the closest chap, who happened to be the wrong one. Churchill proceeded to show us by climbing on top of the trench that there was nothing to be afraid of.

  “Sergeant O’Mally, an old Boer War warrior, said, ‘Sir, this man was wounded in Egypt, a head wound.’ Churchill looked at him, turned and walked away. Long after, I was wondering what would have happened if he had been there when the bullets were passing. The ‘Battle of Britain’, would have had to be re-written.

  “Rats — we had a novel way of killing them, the trench rats were the biggest I had ever seen, they used to pester us at night, so we used to get a lump of cheese and stick it on the end of a bayonet, lay the rifle on top of the trench, keeping very still. When the rat started to nibble, we pulled the trigger, with wonderful results.

  “Latrines — we had a problem here, every time we wanted to use them, you had to lay down on your tummy and crawl until you arrived round the corner, the reason being that the enemy sniper had the entrance marked and woe to the person who walked upright.

  “Rum ration — the duty officer would march in front, with the corporal walking behind carrying a demijohn of rum. Each man was given a tablespoon of neat rum. Every now and again the corporal would take a mouthful without the officer seeing him, the final result was that by the time the duty was performed, they had a very happy corporal, without a care in the world.”

  *

  Henry (Harry) Cooper, 18, had joined up as a drummer and bugler two years before. A professional blacksmith from Turffontein, Johannesburg, the 5 ft 4 ins bugler had served with the RLI for six months in the Active Citizen Force and for eight months in SWA. Cooper felt that the tough Scots were wary of them.

  “We met the chaps at Ploegstreet (Plug Street) and Armentieres during our probation in trench warfare — after our efforts with the Senussi in Egypt. They did not appear to receive us with open arms; possibly they knew we were untried and were a little anxious about whether we would act when it came to a big job.

  “Our first experience of heavy shell put the wind up us but we tried our best not to show the case-hardened 9th Div what we felt. After a while the ‘heavy stuff’ made us feel that we were able to take it and we learned when to duck.”

  *

  Meredith’s first day in the trenches was unforgettable. “We were drafted in small parties to the front line, where the men of the various Scottish regiments of the 9th Division, to which we had been attached, proceeded to teach us the art of trench warfare.

  “It was with some trepidation that I started off with a batch of my comrades one morning when our turn came. In our billets we somehow seemed removed from the war except for the anti-aircraft attacks against German planes high up over our lines. A trail of white smoke puffs right across the sky would often show us the path of the enemy aviator, usually so high he could just be seen.

  “Our trip to the front line passed off without incident until about half way down the communication trench, when several shells passed screaming just over our heads. Our reaction was natural and practically all of us bumped our knees on the duckboards — I know I did.

  “Later we came to know these whizzbangs better and gradually we accustomed ourselves to them and other missiles of modern war. The front lines in our particular section were about 600 yards apart, so things were fairly quiet except at night when we blazed away more or less continuously at the rifle flashes on the enemy side.

  “During the day the time passed fairly quickly with patrol work or trench duty with now and then sandbag filling or a rest in a dug-out. At periods during the day and to some extent at night, we would hear the distinctive whistling sound of heavy shells passing over and would listen for the explosions in the billets.

  “During our stay in Steenwerck before we went into the trenches there occurred an incident which showed not only the youthfulness of myself and some of my comrades, but also the interest taken in his men by Brig-Gen Lukin.

  “One afternoon I was walking along a road with Marsh from the signallers and another comrade whose name I now forget, when we met Gen Lukin and as we passed, of course we saluted. He halted us and came over and addressed us as follows:

  ‘Have you young fellows just come over from England?’

  ‘No, Sir, we were with the brigade in Egypt.’

  ‘Were you at Agagia with the Third?’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  ‘Well, you’re looking jolly young on it still.’

  “We went our different ways and about a week later Marsh was killed when a shell crashed right into the dug-out in which he was resting.”

  *

  Private Arthur Betteridge recalled the train journey to Flanders.

  “After a day and night in that confined truck we were thrilled to see the Eiffel Tower two miles away as our train bypassed Paris. That night we reached Armentieres in Belgium, made famous in the song Mamselle of that town. We detrained at nightfall, having heard the rumble of guns five miles away.

  “With rifle, ammunition, full packs and overcoat, total weight about 80 lbs, we marched in the dark along cobble-stoned main roads and many gravel-sunken roads, passing through villages until we reached the town of Le Bizet. The other three regiments of the brigade had been there while we were at Marseilles and had prepared billets for us in a number of shell-damaged two-storey houses.

  “Le Bizet was only three miles from the front line trenches, not far from Plug Street trenches where Col Winston Churchill had recently commanded one of the famous Guards regiments, after he fell from favour as First Lord of the Admiralty when the attack on Gallipoli failed.

  “We reached our billets exhausted after the long march; lay down on our kilts, boots for a pillow and overcoats to cover us, too tired to eat the hot meal that had been prepared for us. We were annoyed the next morning to find Le Bizet was only seven miles from Armentieres. In the total blackout our guides had marched us more than twice that distance.

  “Soon afterwards our officers took a special course in map reading. In spite of this we continued to get lost when marching in darkness with few road signs to help. There was practically no road motor transport for the infantry in those days and a serious shortage of small-scale maps of the terrain added to the problem. Some months later better and more correct maps became available.

  “Probably the worst chore was carrying 100 lb mortar bombs commonly called ‘pigs’. These three-foot long instruments of death were carried on the shoulders of two men who staggered along the communication trench kicking each other’s heels, cursing the broken duckboards, the bursting of nasty whizzbangs and above all the trench mortar gunners who would later on fire the beastly bombs and immediately retreat to the rear, leaving the infantry to cope with the inevitable enemy reprisal, by the way of minenwerfers, the enemy’s mortars.

  “These large bombs were more disliked than shells. It was possible to watch their trajectory immediately they were fired and no matter where they fell they seemed to be coming directly at the man watching them. Furthermore, they created deep holes and if they fell directly in the trench or very close to it, they caused a lot of damage and frequently, casualties. It will be realized that the trench-mortar gunners were not exactly popular with the infantrymen.

  “The billets at Le Bizet were in two- and three-storey houses, many of them badl
y damaged by shell fire. Most of the houses were in long rows attached to each other. The morning after our unnecessarily long march from Armentieres, the German artillery rudely woke us up by sending several salvos of shells.

  “The quartermaster’s store in the house next to ours received a direct hit, killing a sergeant and two privates. Several others were wounded. This was a shock because we had been told our sector was one of the quietest at that time.

  “In spite of the close proximity to the firing line, some civilians were still in occupation of their homes or small estaminets. Most of the civilians had been forced to leave all their possessions and it was pathetic to see damaged beds, pictures and a piano in one case hanging from the shell-blasted houses.

  “The Scottish relieved the 2nd Regiment in the front line trenches where one German saphead filled with machine-gunners was only sixty yards from our line. That first morning in the line a notice appeared above the German saphead, chalked on a board, “Welkom Afrikan Skotch”, proof of the efficiency of German intelligence. We learned later there were several German spies in the area behind our lines.

  “Two mornings later, just after stand-down from the usual dawn stand-to, I was on duty as signaller in the company dug-out, 25 yards behind the front line. We were keeping in contact on our instrument with battalion headquarters in the rear trenches. The Germans unexpectedly opened up an unusually heavy strafe on our front and rear support-line trenches.

  “Unfortunately, one of C Company platoons was relieving another in the front line trench. Three men were killed and only two wounded. One of those killed was Cecil Paterson, an 18-year-old friend of mine who had joined the regiment with me at Potchefstroom. I had to write to his mother and sisters in Kimberley.

  “It was a sorry business because of our inexperience in trench warfare. Only two men at a time should have been sent to take over two others’ duties and not gathered in numbers as they did. We were learning the hard way. Cecil and the others were buried in the beautiful French cemetery outside Le Bizet.

  “The same evening I was again on “buzzer” duty when a staff officer from a Guards regiment, with red capband and tabs, asked the signals corporal in the dug-out, in a rather affected tone of voice, where the company headquarters of the 2nd Regiment was situated. They were out of the line and we told the officer who proceeded along the communication trench.

  “Some hours later frantic enquiries came from our headquarters, asking about the appearance of this officer. It appeared he was a German intelligence officer who had audaciously entered the lines on more than one occasion, checking the movement of British troops. He was not caught, but we all admired the courage of that German. Few of us would have liked to take the chances he took, in the interest of his country.”

  *

  On Wednesday, 31 May, the brigade left Le Bizet and began their long march to the Somme, a distance of about 50 miles. They arrived at Enguingatte on Sunday, 4 June, where they would do most of their training for the coming “Big Push”.

  *

  During the march Pte Eddie Fitz was working while his friends rested.

  “From Armentieres we marched down to the Somme. Whenever we stopped we ran the telephones around to the company headquarters, so that the officers could talk and make arrangements for movements the next day. We had expert South African telegraphists, chaps who could do 30 odd words a minute on a key — far better than most of the British army. As an electrician I drifted into the job of linesman, responsible for laying and maintaining telephone lines.”

  *

  The most highly decorated officer in the brigade was Lieut Alexander “Sandy” Young VC, 43, who was born at Balinona, Ireland, in 1873. He was an outstanding horseman and served with the Queen’s Bays from 1890. He became a riding instructor in India, then served in the 2nd Dragoon Guards in Egypt and the Sudan as a sergeant-major.

  In 1897 Young performed his daring feats of horsemanship before Queen Victoria at Aldershot. While in charge of the 2nd Dragoon Guards’ riding school at Canterbury he was severely kicked by a horse, which forced him to retire from the army.

  Young fretted at inactivity and in August 1899 came to South Africa where he joined the Cape Mounted Police. During the South African War he served as a sergeant-major and was wounded at Stormberg. He was mentioned in despatches for his coolness during the saving of Bethulie Bridge in March 1900.

  He won the Victoria Cross 17 months later, when he was again wounded. London Gazette, November 18, 1901: “Alexander Young, Sergt-Major, Cape Police. Towards the close of the action at Ruiter’s Kraal on the 13th August, 1901, Sergt-Major Young, with a handful of men, rushed some kopjes which were being held by Commandant Erasmus and about 20 Boers. On reaching these kopjes, the enemy were seen galloping back to another kopje held by the Boers. Sergt-Major Young then galloped on some 50 yards ahead of his party, and, closing with the enemy, shot one of them and captured Commandant Erasmus, the latter firing at him three times at point-blank range before being taken prisoner.”

  After the war Young took part in the suppression of the Herero Rebellion in SWA in 1904. He then went farming near Bulwer in Natal and two years later served in the 1906 Zulu Rebellion where he was again wounded. He returned to farming near Bulwer, where he often broke in horses for other farmers. He was an unholy Irish terror, however loved children and all animals.

  He would flatter the children’s governess by telling her that she was the prettiest “colleen” he had seen since leaving Galway, then would ask her to give them a half-day holiday. No wonder they loved him. Whenever the children asked him how he had won his VC, Young would say, “I chanced me arm.” When his troop horse, Paddy, on which he had won the VC, died, Young wept unashamedly.

  On the outbreak of the War in 1914 Young became roaring drunk and went to the German Trappist Mission where he turned the priests and all out and made them sing “God save the King.”

  Young served in SWA as regimental sergeant-major of the Natal Light Horse until February 1915, then as temporary lieutenant with the Umvoti Mounted Rifles. He was one of the first volunteers for the brigade and was commissioned in the 4th SAI and posted to D Company.

  *

  Lance-Corporal George Warwick, 18, had spent the first 12 years of his life in Mauritius where he learnt to speak French and Creole. He was serving an apprenticeship in Durban when the war began. His parents would not allow him to sign on for SWA, however when advertisements appeared for the brigade he immediately enlisted. This time his parents grudgingly approved. After serving in Egypt he found himself once more at training — this time in Flanders.

  “We got down to intensive training with reveille at 5 am, parading at 6 am for bomb-throwing practice before breakfast at 8.30 am on Wednesday, 7 June. At 11 am there was a general present when we practised the attack. This was followed by bayonet-fighting drill. After dinner we marched to a field to attend a gas lecture and practise passing messages along while extended and lying in a prone position, followed by fire-control. News was received today that Lord Kitchener had been drowned.

  “The next two days were spent practising the attack and with new bayonet-fighting instruction and practising rapid loading. We paraded for pay on Thursday.

  “The events of Saturday, 10 June, had some interesting features, especially in the afternoon. The bomb-throwing practice in the morning had been followed by an attack uphill and an advance downhill under simulated artillery fire. But the real fun started after dinner when there was bomb-throwing with live bombs, to add to the fun there was thunder and rain.

  “There were two officers present, Lieut Young, VC, and Lieut Duff. Private Cullen removed the safety-pin of a Mills bomb and, instead of holding on firmly to the lever before throwing the bomb, he released it. Realising what he had done, instead of flinging the bomb over the sand-bags, he placed the bomb on the ground and ran round the other side of the sand-bags. The two officers had hardly time to get round the sand-bags; indeed, Lieut Duff received a slight cut
over one eye.

  “Lieutenant Young, the bombing officer, who was himself an Irishman, addressed Pte Cullen thus:

  Bombing Officer: ‘What is your name?’

  Cullen: ‘Cullen, sir!’

  Bombing Officer: ‘Where are you from?’

  Cullen: ‘County Galway, sir!’

  Bombing Officer: ‘I always thought that there was something of the Sinn Feiner about you!’

  “The bombing officer then proceeded to demonstrate the use of the newly invented rifle-grenade. He placed a rifle-grenade into the muzzle of a rifle and said he would fire it into a field of barley. Right enough, on pressing the trigger, the rifle grenade sailed through the air and came down in the barley field; but it did not explode.

  ‘It must be a dud,’ said the bombing officer, ‘I’ll try another one’. This one also fell into the barley field and did not explode. ‘That can’t be a dud too. Perhaps I should have unscrewed this little screw here.’ He proceeded to do so, while we wondered whether he was going to blow the lot of us up.

  “He then placed the rifle-grenade in the rifle and pressed the trigger. For the third time a rifle-grenade dropped into the barley field, and this time exploded on contact. At this, Lieut Young said, ‘It’s a good job I didn’t try any of these yesterday when the general was here. He’d have said, ‘Young, you don’t know anything about it, and faith, he’d have been right.’”

  *

  The intensive training at Enguingatte came to an end on 14 June. The South Africans were issued with gas helmets and ammunition, then marched to Ailly-sur-Somme where a new draft joined them. They reached Corbie on 24 June, had lunch, then continued on to Welcome Wood.

  They remained there for two days. Warwick recalled that on the Sunday afternoon his platoon went on a route march! The brigade left at 9 pm the next night and marched via Bray-sur-Somme to Suzanne. There they fraternised with French soldiers and exchanged Boer tobacco for the French soldiers’ bread and wine rations.

  On Thursday, 29 June the brigade moved from Suzanne to Grove Town Camp, a large tented area with barbed-wire enclosures for German prisoners.