The Seventh Manchesters - S. J. Wilson (leveled readers .TXT) 📗
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because it was their first venture of this sort, and it had been
crowned, after a glorious five minutes’ rough and tumble, with
unqualified success.
2nd-Lt. Hodge was decorated with the Military Cross for this feat—the
first M.C. in the division in France—and this was really the beginning
of a brilliant career for him as a soldier. He was eventually
transferred as a Company Commander to the 5th East Lancs. with whom he
obtained the D.S.O. From there he progressed to Major with the L.F’s.,
and finally finished the war as Commanding Officer of the 8th
Manchesters, leading back the cadre of that battalion to Ardwick Green
in March, 1919. He is unreservedly one of the officers whom the Fleur de
Lys are proud to claim.
Sgt. McHugh and Ptes. McLean and Braithwaite received Military Medals on
this occasion, and they also were glad to know that they opened the long
list of decorations that the battalion was to obtain in France.
I have spent some little time on this “Wigan Copse” raid because it is
an important event in the history of the battalion. The 7th Manchesters
never looked back after that show, and they held up their heads in the
proud consciousness that they had attempted a good thing and had
achieved it. It gave them confidence—for there was a reputation to live
up to, and all felt that they could not possibly fail once a job was
begun. And so it was. Nothing the battalion ever touched in future went
wrong, and there has been no incident in the war which the 7th need look
back upon with remorse or regret.
Another important event in our life at Havrincourt was the digging of a
new front line about 500 yards in advance of the old one along almost
the whole of the divisional front. The 5th, being the collier battalion,
achieved their part of the business on the Slag Heap, while the 7th and
6th worked on their right. The first night was a great success, there
was not a whisper of protest from the Boche, and we had cut through an
almost continuous line, adequately protected by concertina barbed wire,
and particularly strengthened at various points where posts had to be
held during the next day. The enemy must have rubbed his eyes rather
vigorously next morning when he saw what had been accomplished during
one night. However, he soon began to register on the new trench, and
unfortunately an isolated tree (Cauliflower Tree) helped him in this
work. We were not surprised therefore to have our labours frequently
interrupted on the next night’s digging by violent displays of wrath
accompanied by pyrotechnics. One of these was particularly spectacular,
eliciting from a digger the remark: “Wouldn’t Jennison be damned jealous
if he was here now!”
Rumours increased about going out for Divisional rest, until elements of
the 58th (2nd line London Territorial) division began to appear and make
reconnaissances of the front, from which we augured good. One of their
C.O’s. on being told that we had arrived in France in March, was quite
delighted, and said he had been searching the British Army for troops
who had come out after they did. They arrived a month before us—but
from England! Nothing pleased Col. Cronshaw better, and he carefully led
him through the exploits of the 42nd from the day they sailed from
England in September, 1914. The London C.O. left the dug-out with a more
or less chastened countenance, and I presume he still continued his
search.
July 8th was our last day at Havrincourt, and although we were glad at
the time for the promise of a respite from trench duties, we have since
frequently looked back on those sunny days with great pleasure, for by
comparison it was a “bon front,” and picturesque withal, which can
hardly be said about any other sector we learned to know. The light
railway was utilised again to take the battalion to Ytres, and after a
night there we marched first to Barastre, and then to Achiet le Petit,
beyond Bapaume.
ACHIET.
The 127th brigade resided under canvas about the battered village of
Achiet le Petit on patches of ground not too incommoded by shell holes.
The war had passed comparatively lightly over this portion of France,
but a short walk westward took one to the battle-scarred fields of the
fierce Somme fighting, and this was useful to us for we could pay visits
to these districts to learn something of modes of battle in those days.
One day, the Brigadier took a number of officers to Thiepval and
recorded his own personal experiences of the fighting around there. On
another occasion a brigade scheme took place on the famous Gommecourt
trenches. We little guessed in those days that we should actually be
fighting for our lives in those same trenches in less than twelve
months. It seemed as though the tide of war had rolled over this ground
for ever, and that the very earth would cry out if it were to hear again
the shrieking and tearing of shells that came to wound it.
Intensive training was the order of the day, and realising that we had
still much to learn the work was seriously taken up. The men came from
Lancashire, the division had been sorely tested by fire in Gallipoli,
and by endurance in the Sinai, so that hard work under able leadership
was all that was required to uphold the flag of achievement which had
yet received no stain. As the days wore on, and we had almost forgotten
our trench activities at Havrincourt, rumours began to float once more
about an early move, and this move was to be connected with a big stunt
coming off soon “up north.” At any rate no one disputed the suggestion
that our next contact with the enemy would probably be of a more serious
nature than the last.
Let it not be supposed, however, that these rather sordid thoughts
occupied our minds completely whilst we remained at Achiet. Officers and
men took full advantage of the period of rest, and the weather
fortunately was exactly suited to enjoyable life under canvas. The thing
of the moment only concerned us, and this was more often than not an
important football match with another battalion, a game of cricket, a
sports day, a visit to the divisional concert troupe—“Th’ Lads”—who
gave some very good shows about this time. Boxing was a great thing, and
Pte. Finch, who was, poor chap, killed and buried in this spot the
following March, knocked out all comers in the divisional heavyweight.
Some of these events took place in a huge crater, which had been
transformed into a sort of Roman amphitheatre, produced by the blowing
up of a large and deep German heavy ammunition dump. In the divisional
sports also, the officers proved that they were at least the most
able-bodied in the 42nd by winning the Tug-o’-War cup.
On the whole, we look back to the weeks at Achiet as a period of solid
training, plenty of “Spit and Polish,” but “lots of fun.” On the 1st of
August we got word of the big offensive at Ypres amidst all that
disastrous rain, and we expected to move up there any day. It was not
until three weeks later, however, that we did move, and then it was
known definitely that we were for Flanders. The battalion marched down
to Aveluy, near Albert, on an enervatingly hot day and remained one
night in huts there. The next night they entrained and proceeded to
Poperinghe in Belgium, and so added another country to the list of those
they visited during the war.
CHAPTER V.
Belgium.
YPRES.
Ypres! That wonderful place, the sound of whose name makes the heart of
the Englishman at home glow with pride, but makes the soldier, friend or
foe, shudder at the mere recollection. It was the scene of much stern
work, and if Belgium has been dubbed the Cockpit of Europe, surely the
“Salient” was the cockpit of cockpits. More men lie buried in that small
patch of ground than one cares to think about, and when instances of the
unreasonableness and veritable folly of war are cited from other fronts,
they can always be equalled by experiences at Ypres.
In many respects, however, the 7th were lucky in this sector, for we did
not actually go over the top during our stay. Other units of the
division carried out what would be termed minor operations (which are
anything but minor operations to the people concerned), but the 7th
escaped any such work. So far as we were concerned it was a continuation
of line-holding, but under vastly new conditions. It would be useful,
perhaps, to indicate the nature of these conditions.
As all the world knows the third battle of Ypres commenced on the 31st
July, 1917, preceded by a terrific concentrated bombardment of the Hun
positions lasting about ten days. The effect of this bombardment was to
obliterate all signs of life on that part of the earth, with the
exception of a few horrible, naked, and shattered trees. Nothing green
was visible anywhere. In fact the land looked as though it had been a
very choppy earth-brown sea suddenly frozen to stillness. Everywhere
was shell-holes, shell-holes, shell-holes—large and small. Only by
careful searching could one ascertain where enemy trenches had been.
Dotted about over this terrain were the Hun “pill-boxes,” concrete
shelters in which the enemy had made their last machine gun fight.
Whereas at one time they had been skilfully concealed from view, they
were now standing stark above the ground which had been torn away from
them. Some of the pill-boxes, indeed, had been smashed in by direct hits
from the heavies, so deadly had been our gun fire during those ten days.
The opening of the British offensive had brought bad luck with regard to
weather. The men had gone over in a terrific downpour of rain, so that
all the advantage lay with the defences. The tanks had struggled
wonderfully with the appalling conditions, but the ground was against
them, and most of them were “ditched” before they were knocked out. A
few, however, had got well ahead, until they were out of action, and it
hardly required field glasses to be able to distinguish them within the
enemy’s lines, now functioning, by the cruelty of fate, as German
pill-boxes and sniper-posts. Such was the salient in the early days of
September when the 42nd went up to take over the “line.”
It was ascertained that we were to relieve the 15th division, a most
excellent division consisting chiefly of highlanders of the New Armies.
They had fought over this ground in the first days of the offensive, and
after a short rest had come back again to help to hold the positions
taken and to initiate “minor” operations. They were situated astride the
Potijze Road, due east of Ypres, and that is where the advance parties
from each battalion of the division found them. The first impression
was: “What a contrast with Havrincourt!” It was the exact antithesis in
every respect. This was a country where the desire to kill and destroy
had developed to an unimaginable intensity. Nothing of use was to be
left by either side, and every yard of ground almost was searched by the
gunners to carry out their cruel game.
As evidence of the meaning and determination of the business the
18-pounders were packed axle to axle amongst the mud and shell holes,
ready to bark forth their loud defiance to the Hun. The 4.5 howitzers
were visible in batches at various places. Further back, but still
closely packed were the 6-inch howitzers, the 60-pounders, and the
heavier
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