The Seventh Manchesters - S. J. Wilson (leveled readers .TXT) 📗

so famous as this because they were not so frequently

used. Many things can be camouflaged to deceive aircraft, but I think a

bridge over a river would tax the most ingenious in this art, hence,

although hidden from direct observation from the enemy lines, the Hun

had the exact position of these bridges, and, what was more

disconcerting, he also had the exact range. So he “dusted” them at

irregular intervals with various calibres, and trips across resembled

the noble game of running the gauntlet. This portion of night reliefs

was naturally particularly exciting. The late Lt.-Col. Marshall, V.C.,

when second in command to the 6th L.F’s., provided an amusing story for

the division one day when a couple of officers failed to salute him in

the middle of Putney Bridge, he walking calmly across, and

they—obviously hurrying. He pulled them up and strafed them duly, then,

to force his point, he stood on the bridge and caused them to pass him

two or three times in a dignified manner and salute him correctly.

Luckily the Boche did not interfere in this little humorous interlude.

 

The Redan was a large triangular redoubt, with the base resting on the

river and having an artificial moat through the middle and on its other

two sides. It had been built many years ago to defend Nieuport and in

this war had played its part. The enemy had paid a good deal of

attention to it with heavy shells so it was considerably knocked about.

Most of the concreted dug-outs, however, were still intact, and they

served to house a good portion of the 7th in their support position.

Headquarters inhabited the ever famous Indiarubber House. This resembled

an innocent barn in appearance, and the Hun had hit it hard many many

times, but his shells had only bounced harmlessly off the solid

concealed concrete—hence its name. The French, in the quiet days, had

“done themselves well” here, and we thanked them for the excellent

supply of electric light which they had handed over.

 

It was when we took over the front line, however, that the real meaning

of the Nieuport sector was revealed. The ground was torn and devastated

like the Salient, but here the destruction and misery was increased by

floods, ever present in a greater or less degree. It had been impossible

to dig in the low ground, so the defences consisted of breastworks which

had been very much battered since the enemy had established his

superiority here in guns. Over this area the Boche had uninterrupted

observation from the ruins of Lombaertzyde, which lay on slightly higher

ground just within his lines. It was thus practically impossible to move

about by day, for the sight of khaki brought down a hurricane of whizz

bangs, special batteries being apparently told off for sniping of this

nature. Further, as we lay in a very sharp salient just here our men

could be plainly seen behind the breastworks by the enemy on their right

rear, and these people indulged in long range machine gun sniping.

Since our purpose was a “peaceful” one in this sector, we could see no

value in inviting the enemy to indulge in artillery and M.G. target

practice on us, so we lay “doggo” during the day. Everything had to be

done at night, and runners to the companies found this their busiest

time, wading thigh-deep through stretches of water, and picking their

way amongst innumerable shell holes in search of Company Headquarters.

This front also lent itself to heavy trench-mortar work by the Hun, and

“minnies” were constantly stealing over with evil intent to batter down

our flimsy breastworks. Battalion H.Q. and the signallers will probably

not easily forget the morning when they found themselves the objective

in this kind of work. One shot dropped plumb on the H.Q. concrete

shelter, half removing the roof and scattering the contents of the

orderly room in a disrespectful manner, whilst the next one pushed in

the signaller’s dug-out, wounding L.-Cpl. Wild. It was the sang-froid of

a/R.S.M. Clough on this occasion, coupled with his sound work generally

in the line, which earned for him the Belgian Croix de Guerre.

 

Although the casualties were nothing like so numerous, still our men

agreed that for general conditions they preferred the Ypres sector to

this, and it certainly was a most depressing spot. One of the great

troubles was the number of canals, which, owing to the destruction of

the dams and locks, etc., were now affected by the tides, causing them

to overflow and flood our defensive works. This was another source of

glee to the Hun, and he played a most amusing game—to himself—of

allowing us to build up a dam and then promptly knocking it down with

5.9’s and 8”s. One night, a new officer to the 7th, 2nd-Lt. J. H. Milne,

was in charge of a working party on one of these jobs when they were

suddenly subjected to heavy shelling. The dam was smashed and Milne

found his party broken up on each side of the canal. Realising that one

or two of the men on the opposite side of the canal to himself had been

hit, he, along with Sgt. Heath and Pte. Titchener, scrambled across,

although the shelling had not ceased, and looked after them, getting

them to places of safety. Milne received recognition for this, while

Sgt. Heath and Pte. Titchener were awarded Military Medals.

 

On the night of November 1st a most unfortunate incident occurred. We

were out in support again and were to relieve the 5th the following

night in the front line, the usual advance parties having been sent up.

Lt. Sievewright had gone up for “B” company, and whilst there some

scheme had been suddenly formed to go out a short distance to examine

new wire that had been put up. The party had ventured out beyond the

wire, however, and were suddenly assailed with a hurricane of bombs from

what appeared to be an enemy patrol or covering party. Sievewright and

two officers of the 5th were killed and two other ranks wounded. It was

an exceedingly unfortunate event for it was quite an impromptu venture

and it would appear that the usual patrol precautions had not been

considered so seriously as they would ordinarily have been. This was a

strange front, however, and extraordinary things happened, our brigade

not being the only one to suffer from mishaps, for on another night the

commanding officer of the 8th L.F’s., whilst visiting his outposts

wandered into a Boche post and was never seen again, while the late

Lt.-Col. Marshall, V.C. (previously mentioned) did the same thing, but

after a short scrap with a Hun he managed to get away.

 

We had the 2nd Matrosen (Naval) division in front of us, and they were

really an enterprising lot. Undoubtedly our pressure upon Paschendaele

was making the German nervy on this sector, and he was under an

obligation to keep alive and display a vigorous activity. Further, his

morale was considerably heightened by the Teutonic success in Italy

which his wireless sets were busy blazoning forth to all the world. This

will account, therefore, for the sudden arrival of an enemy patrol

outside one of our isolated posts one night. They flung in bombs over

the scanty wire, inflicting casualties, and then rapidly departed. This

was a sting which had to be avenged, and while the 5th were in they

took first toll by meeting a Hun patrol in No Man’s Land, and after

fighting it out returned triumphant with two prisoners, who proved to be

Bavarians, thus giving a valuable identification. When we took over, our

chance came very soon for a patrol was met on the same game as before.

The result was discomfiture of the enemy and the capture of a wounded

petty officer of the Matrosens. From these two events we could

approximately deduce the enemy divisional boundary. The next night,

determined to assert our superiority over the Boche, another of our

patrols from “A” company, journeyed forth, got through his wire, located

a post, and then filled it with bombs.

 

After seventeen days of amphibious soldiering in front of Nieuport we

were relieved by the 125th brigade, and went back for a welcome rest to

huts near Coxyde. Rumours drifted around about accompanying the 41st

division to Italy, but they did not materialise. Bitterly cold weather

suddenly arrived, however, which made us aware of the flimsiness of the

French huts in which we dwelt.

 

CHAPTER VI.

 

An Interlude.

 

The 42nd division added to its list of new experiences when it was

relieved at Nieuport, by a division of French troops. We afterwards

heard that they had demonstrated their capacity for common sense in

warfare by evacuating all the horrible ground in front of the Redan,

which we had clung to with characteristic British bull-dog tenacity.

 

Lt.-Col. Carr, D.S.O., having proceeded on leave, Major Allan commanded

the battalion during the succeeding days. It was found later, however,

that the C.O. would not return, having been placed on the sick list at

home. The division was destined for Bethune and it was a very pleasant

five days’ march that took us to that area. On the first day, Nov. 16th,

passing through Leffinckoucke, near Dunkirk, we reached Teteghem, while

the next day took us to Esquelbec, just outside Wormhoudt. The following

two days required only short distances to the Hazebrouck district, but

the fifth day was longer, and, marching past the divisional commander in

Aire, we arrived at Mazinghem, a small village just off the main Lillers

road.

 

The battalion spent a few days here, and a really happy time it was. The

villagers had not become blas� to British soldiers, and they gave our

men a hearty welcome in their billets. It was with no small pride that

the cur�, with whom the padre and myself were lucky enough to be

billeted, informed us that General P�tain had at one time spent many

happy days in his house, for his uncle had been the cur� here. Whilst in

this village we received the news of the wonderful Cambrai attack by

General Byng, and we had a curious feeling that he had no right to do

that without asking the 42nd to help him, for we naturally possessed a

fatherly interest in Havrincourt and all its works. The first flush of

news gave us no details, and we were perplexed to know what had happened

to “Jerry’s Wire” which we knew was formidable enough. Then the stories

of tanks upon tanks drifted through, and we began to understand it.

 

It was here that Lt.-Col. Bromfield, of the Leicestershire Regt. first

saw the 7th and assumed command. He was due for leave, however, and had

just emerged from a trying time at Paschendaele, so Major Allan was soon

left in charge once more. We did not remain long at Mazinghem for our

duty was to relieve the 25th division in the line at Givenchy, before La

Bassee. As everyone knows, this was one of the sectors of the original

British line so that everything connected with it was essentially

English. Since the fighting at Festubert in 1915 comparative peace had

reigned along this front and we were content to allow it to remain so

after our noisy experiences at Ypres and Nieuport.

 

Givenchy was once a mining village situated on a spur of the Aubers

Ridge, which, running west to east, looks down upon the flat ground,

stretching uninterruptedly northwards through Festubert, Neuve Chapelle

and Laventie towards Armentieres. Someone had facetiously suggested in

the trench diary (a beautifully bound document that had been handed down

from battalion to battalion from early days) that “Givenchy Church be

kept in a state of repair for the Huns to register on,” and therein lies

an important fact. Had the church