Delville Wood

by Ian Uys

  “I noticed that he was bleeding from the lobes of both ears, bits of shrapnel were sticking into the lobes and told him so but he told me to forget it and keep on doing what we could for the bad cases.

  “There were not enough stretcher-bearers to deal with the large number of badly wounded. Walking wounded were battling their way out alone.

  “One chap wearing no jacket or shirt came towards me shouting, ‘Where is the b … doctor?’ He was carrying his rifle slung over one shoulder, a bandage round his chest, three German helmets in his hand and was escorting five German prisoners, who had had enough, back to the edge of the wood. He got through all right. I saw him in Blighty on one of my leaves.

  “The shelling never seemed to stop and, to cap it, some of our own guns had not got the proper range and were helping the Germans!

  “I heard that someone had been sent to stop those guns or to get them to increase their range. Signals had also been sent from the centre of the wood, black and white flaps to attract the attention of our planes, but the smoke was too thick above the wood for the signals to be of any use.

  “The news got around that this battery had been cut off by the Germans and the crews captured. How true this was I do not know, but they seemed to have quit firing.”

  *

  Lawson returned from a dawn recce to an unexpected surprise.

  “Returning from a visit to the right flank of our centre, I found that Breytenbach, during my absence, with unselfish and considerate care for others, had prepared a royal spread of bully beef, jam and bread and butter. Notwithstanding our surroundings, it was a cheery sight. Dawn broke on Monday morning to find us engaged in doing full justice to this hearty meal.

  “Our first duty on Monday morning was to remove from the trench our dead, shell-holes providing a temporary resting place for them. This duty was luckily accomplished without further casualties, and certainly in the minimum time, as the intensity of shell fire had not abated. Thereafter, the only remaining duty was to keep a sharp watchfulness, which we did, trusting to Providence to turn the tide.

  “Monday passed as the previous day and night had done. There was for us only to wait, facing death as the Voortrekkers had done on South African soil. They established a standard when, at most perhaps a dozen, armed with muzzle-loaders, they stood fast against overwhelming odds. So today were the men from South Africa called upon, on foreign soil, and amid a greater peril to the world, to stand fast.

  “Breytenbach felt keenly the solemnity of the time, and responsibility rested heavily upon him. We were of about equal age and that would be about double the average age of the brave boys who so nobly stood by us. He and I were in opposite camps during the South African War. I am glad I never met him then. Here we met in a common cause. When he first spoke to me on the Saturday morning the impression I immediately got was that we had no other man so good with us; I was glad to see him there, and sought his companionship as much as possible.

  “Whenever we conversed, I always found he turned conversation to the one subject of the Great War. We had exchanged reminiscences of the South African War, humorous and serious, but he made of everything a text to speak of the appalling horror of war as we had seen it in Flanders and France. On the Monday we sat side by side in our cramped narrow trench. I knew by this time I was in the presence of a serious man, and I found my place in the conversation as an eager and fascinated listener. In all our talks his mind was full of the old problem of good and evil in the world.

  “The example of this man and his conversation, as I have already mentioned, make the most vivid impressions I carry with me of Delville Wood. His words at times were burning — I wish I could reproduce them. I cannot remember the words themselves, but their import and the impression they made I cannot and would not forget. It was as if the shrieking and bursting of shells all around had lifted off him the weariness of all we had gone through, and filled him with a holy wrath.

  “At the time I resolved that, should I ever get back to South Africa, I would do what I could to convey to others the tenor and import of Breytenbach’s conversation at different times during the battle, but more particularly on this fateful day. Having just returned, I am attempting to do so in this tribute to my friend’s memory.

  “He contrasted the present war with the war of seventeen years ago in South Africa, the occurrence of which he deplored. He found that an unnatural war waged between two peoples united in religion, in moral aspirations, largely united by intermarriage and the virile off-spring of this. Two peoples living and sharing things together, and, above all, sharing a common love of peace. He found the best evidence of this in the manner in which the game of war was played by both sides — clean and chivalrous. In contrast with the present war he found the conflict in South Africa was not war at all.

  “In Europe he realised — as I did — that we had witnessed war for the first time. He had never dreamt war could be like this. Like all who had been to Flanders and France he knew of the loathsome passions that had been battening upon the inoffensive population — the murders, rapes, and all the horrors that issued from complete disregard of human feelings.

  “He shared with the rest of the world the shock of the consciousness that human nature could be brought lower than was realised before. He shrunk from nothing the enemy could do in the field. Till now, the wars of his day were wars waged between armies and governments, not by armies and governments upon helpless women and children.

  “On Saturday had we not seen the cold-blooded murder of Germans by their own people? Breytenbach expressed deep thankfulness that the enemy who fought his people were not the Germans, and that his beloved country did not pass under the heel of the loathsome Hun conquerors.

  “He spoke of the causes of war. He believed the prime root cause to be a horrible lust of power and dominion, that made everything subservient to its gratification. Moral and religious teaching, all that had been built up to make the world good — civilisation to its foundations — all had to go into the swill-tub for the feeding of this foul appetite. Nothing was to stand in the way. This was war arising from the will to war.

  “How then, he questioned, came the South African War, which was not waged like this? What sinister power could have set at war two peoples who did not will war, but peace, and so could not make war? He saw in the world a malevolent influence, cunning and in league with the Powers of Darkness, devoted exclusively to the one fell work. Such a Power, never happy without war, and plans of war.

  “Breytenbach thought he could make his dupes the two sides to a dispute. By subtle intrigue bad blood is fostered, to be heated by the fever of national pride. Then came false promises, and the ground is prepared for the conflict. But for this malevolent influence, Breytenbach did not believe it possible for two civilised peoples, without the stomach for war, to go to war with one another.

  “The issue in this great world struggle which had brought us together was plain to Breytenbach. He could see nothing national in the war. He saw that what we were fighting for was an ideal, and he saw the plain question this ideal put: for or against? For the right to live as free peoples, believing in ourselves, and desiring to hold our destiny in our hands; or, against this simple right, and for the yoke of an intolerable Prussianised system of world dominion and power — the system that had brought upon humanity the existing misery and pain, and would continue to do this as long as there lived men who loved liberty more than life?

  “Those who could not understand the question he regarded as incapable of thinking. Simple and convincing, the question divided the world into two opposing camps. To him the answer was just as simple as had the question been: ‘Are you in favour of letting loose upon the world a deadly plague, beyond the skill and science of man to control?’

  “In our trench, on this Monday, in the face of almost certain death, he seemed overwhelmed, not with the spirit of apprehension and fear, but that of thankfulness. He audibly thanked God, as he had done more than once be
fore in my hearing, that he had understood the question.

  “He said he was clear (his words were beautifully simple and clear) that on that very day he was engaged in the greatest and noblest work man could be called upon to do. He was humbly thankful to have a part, ranged with the forces of good, in the fight against the powers of evil. He saw a purpose in his life, and wished for nothing more than the strength to make the most of his opportunity.

  “Breytenbach’s courage could not be excelled, and he took manifest pleasure in the physical execution of the task allotted to him with his deadly rifle. Uneducated, in the conventional sense, his mind had reached lofty heights of clear thought. It seemed to me at the time, and still seems so, that he spoke as no man had ever spoken to me. Under the teaching of his simple words I caught a clearer consciousness of the presence in the world of opposing powers of good and evil than I had experienced before.

  “On the Monday, when few interruptions broke the spell, he seemed to have lost the names that designate the groups and countries at war — to have forgotten them — as if he would absolve humanity from the crime. As he spoke I also seemed to forget these names, and I could see in the war only a conflict between powers of darkness and the powers of light; and welling up in the heart I could feel a great wave of compassion for humanity.

  “In surroundings of death, on this third day of terrible strain, I wonder did Breytenbach get a glimpse of the beyond — so near to us — where our human anxieties and perplexing doubts are set at rest and cleared up. With the steady light of faith (or was it revelation?) he saw ahead victory for the cause of right. Not victory to make the people delirious with joy, but to be accepted with chastened hearts full of contrite thankfulness — a victory for both sides, a purging of the world, the dawn of the better day.

  “To have intimately known Breytenbach at Delville Wood, as I did, was to undergo a change for the better and for all time.

  “Three days and two nights of terrible strain had now passed. The two or three hundred yards of trench that D Company had been called upon to hold looked battered and stricken. What remained of the defenders had been tried beyond all endurance. Deaf to the roar of hundreds of guns and explosions of shells all around, the boys were answering the overpowering call of nature, and taking respite from the horror in the oblivion of sound sleep.

  “It was now everyone for himself; the non-commissioned officers of our party had all paid toll. Breytenbach then suggested to me that together we should maintain a watch, relieving each other every two hours. The duties of each two-hour watch were, first to patrol the trench, and then take position in no-man’s-land, about twenty five yards ahead. The alarm signal was to be a violent pull on a length of wire rope which formed the connecting link between him and me, and was fastened at the trench end to the sleeper’s arm. The first part of this (Monday) night passed as the day had passed, but for a downpour of rain.”

  *

  Lance-Corporal S du Plessis showed coolness under heavy shell-fire in bringing up rations and water, and in collecting and distributing ammunition along the line under shell fire.

  *

  Private Walter Arthur Stewart, 18, was born at Langlaagte, Transvaal. He became a sail and tent maker at Johannesburg and did some cadet training before joining up. Stewart was 5 ft 7 ins tall and was a stretcher-bearer at Delville Wood, where he showed outstanding heroism.

  Despite being bruised and exhausted Stewart insisted on going through a hail of fire to bring a wounded man in. On two occasions he made a tour of all the company’s lines, bringing back wounded and rendering a report regarding untended wounded. Stewart saved many lives by risking his own. He was slightly wounded on the 17th.

  *

  During a heavy attack two teams of a Lewis gun were killed. Under heavy fire Pte Victor Allen left his trench, recovered the gun and carried it to another position from where he continued to work it. Eventually the gun was smashed by shell fire. The same feat was performed by Pte Ernest Hollington.

  Private Walter Prentice acted as runner between the brigade and battalion headquarters. He repeatedly went through zones swept by shell fire and exhibited great eagerness in keeping up communications.

  When Major Donald MacLeod was wounded Major Donald Hunt took over command of the battalion.

  Second-Lieutenant R D Grierson was severely gassed at Montauban. Nevertheless, while subjected to heavy artillery fire, and suffering from gas poisoning, he twice assisted to clear the road in order that the transport of the 3rd and 4th SAI could be moved out of the barrage of shell and gas.

  *

  Second-Lieutenant D Jenner handled his platoon efficiently during the fight until he was compelled to leave the wood badly wounded.

  *

  Oswald Lovegrove, 19, was a 5 ft 9 in tall mechanic and had a scar on his chin. He had joined the Cape Town Highlanders as a volunteer and remained with them for four years, including 11 months in SWA. He was promoted to corporal on 25 June 1916, the day after he had been severely reprimanded for gambling! After the battle he wrote to his mother in Sea Point of his experiences commencing shortly before Trones Wood.

  “I had seven narrow escapes: first a shell burst ten yards from the parapet and buried me under seven bags of sand, and a lot of loose sand. Fortunately some fellows were there and dug me out.

  “Second, when retiring from the position in Trones Wood in the dark I fell into a shell-crater, and as I landed in it, a high explosive burst just 15 yards off the top of the hole. Third, got blown down flat on my face by what we call a coalbox. It’s a big shell with very high explosives, used for blowing up trenches; its ‘bark is worse than its bite’. It makes a terrible concussion when it explodes.

  “Fourth, I was again buried. Fifth I had to run through a sheet of bursting shrapnel. I could hear the pieces striking the ground in all directions around me, and it is still a marvel to me how I got through without being hit at all.

  “Sixth and seventh, I was blown into the air, the first time only five yards, but the second time I cannot say how high I went, as I did not know what had happened until I found myself at the dressing-station, with a frightful pain in my back and left leg, so I think I must have landed on my back.

  “I am told by one of our sergeants that poor little Aubrey Fockens was blown to pieces by a high explosive (on the 16th). Our poor old commanding officer, Colonel Jones, has gone under. A shell burst in his dug-out, and a piece of shrapnel pierced his heart. This was just before the big fight at Delville Wood. We then had Major MacLeod in command until he was seriously wounded in nine places, and I believe he was riddled from head to foot.”

  Lovegrove was evacuated as a case of shell-shock to Dulwich Hospital.

  *

  Private Clive Swales Canning, 19, of Tamboerskloof, Cape Town, was 5 ft 7 ins tall, had dark hair and was a bank clerk in civilian life. He had served in the Cape Town Highlanders for two and a half years, including a spell in SWA. He recalled the shelling of the previous day when they had entered the wood.

  “They shelled us for two hours with gas shells that night, but we advanced up to the far edge of the wood and started digging ourselves in. We had some exciting times in bombing the Germans in the woods. We used to go out on our own, bomb the Allemande for about an hour, and then skedaddle back to our own trench, if we had one.

  “Now there are about two bombers left, officers and all being on the casualty list. The Germans had used liquid fire the night before, but they were too far away to use it that night. They were out in the open by then, and were too busily occupied in digging themselves in to worry us much; but about 12 noon the next day the artillery got on to us and gave us a lively time of it, until I tried conclusions with a piece from a coalbox.

  “Like the thoughtful chap I am, I tried to protect government property by endeavouring to stop a piece of shrapnel from going through my boot, with the result that it not only went through the boot but through my foot also. I immediately started off to England for my week’s
leave, but my rate of progress was rather slow, as there were snipers in most of the trees of the wood. In fact, it took me about five hours to crawl 100 yards; but after that I managed to get the aid of a limber (not an ideal Red Cross conveyance), and rode, or rather jolted, six miles to the field ambulance.

  Another piece of shrapnel might have done a little more damage than the other, had it not been for the book given to me by Mr Irwin just before I left South Africa. I kept it in my left-hand breast pocket, and a piece of ‘shrap’ tore into it about half-way, making rather a bit of a hole in the book, but saving me from another Blighty.

  My half-section, Tommy White, got hit in the head after we had brought some ammunition for the company, and then I went and got it in the foot.

  “… I lost absolutely everything except what I stood up in, even my gas helmet and steel helmet. I had quite a lot of souvenirs, such as badges off helmets (the helmets themselves were too big to bring), German sword-bayonet, German gas-helmet, and quite a lot of other odds and ends, like nose-caps off German shells, but I had to leave them all behind and clear out, as there were no stretcher-bearers left.

  “It was a jolly good job I cleared out when I did, as a Jack Johnson came in the place where I had been lying and blew five chaps up.”

  *

  Private Bert Higgins was wounded by shrapnel from a shell.

  “We were up against the German Grenadier Guards — big chaps with double eagles and brass on their helmets. Very tough boys — and we were so disorganised. We broke up into small groups and those not killed from the blasts were killed by trees falling.

  “On 17 July I was wounded and didn’t get out until the 18th. I got a shrapnel ball in above the left knee, which missed the main artery. I was very lucky.

  “I walked out. There were stretcher-bearers but they were few and far between. If you get wounded, a Blighty as we called it, we just said goodbye boys, I’m off to Blighty, off to England. But you had to get up and that wasn’t so easy.”