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

never failed to

accept. The rough is taken with the smooth. If ever there has been

incompetence men have simply blamed the system and cursed the War

Office. If they happened to have been five minutes in France they might

have philosophically added “c’est la guerre.” The actual individual

responsible has not been worth worrying about. Thus even with regard to

this mere side issue, the author’s story reflects a cardinal attribute

of the national character, and therefore in its essence conveys the

truth.

 

In my opinion, it is not, however, the whole truth. There is no reason

why England in her reconstruction should forget that want of sympathy

with the Territorials, which far too often marked men, to whose hands

their fortunes were from time to time entrusted. This vice should be

borne in mind not because the memory is bitter; but because by

remembrance we may make its repetition in later wars impossible.

Territorials ought never to be ousted from the command of their own

units, or to be excluded from staff appointments, merely because they

are not Regulars or because they fail to comply with needlessly drastic

and therefore non-essential codes of discipline. Discipline is, in fact,

degraded into servitude when it becomes a mere fetish. How fallaciously

it may be construed could often be seen in the tendency among powerful

martinets to “drive a coach and four” through the law and procedure

which regulate trials by Court Martial. The need for the

“standardisation” of all infantry units in France was quite genuine; but

unimaginative men in authority could make “standardisation” a burden to

the spirit, and the picture of some men of this class, which is painted

in A. P. Herbert’s novel. The Secret Battle, is founded on the truth.

We have all seen such cases. The grinding necessities of the Western

front ended the joyous amateurism, which a Territorial unit was able to

preserve through all its vicissitudes in Eastern warfare, but they did

not require the prevailing banishment of individuality and of the

exercise of intellect from Regimental life.

 

After landing in France the 42nd Division had to make a new reputation

by rising from the ruck, and it is very notable that the personnel of

the 7th Manchesters, as of the other units in the Division, although

almost completely changed from the personnel of the Battalion when in

Gallipoli and drawn from a later generation of recruits, achieved equal

distinction and much greater technical efficiency. This fact points to

the wonderful resourcefulness of the English people. Historically it

shows how thoroughly our Army of 1917-18 was professionalised.

 

The later chapters of Captain Wilson’s book detail very brilliant

fighting by our men, which it would be idle and impertinent to praise.

Such “crowded hours” are not, however, and never have been the most

typical of a soldier’s life. Infinitely more numerous were the hours of

endurance and privation, which the 7th spent among the broken ravines of

Gallipoli, among the dreary mud flats on either bank of the Yser, among

the desolate craters in front of Cuinchy and Le Plantin. In their

patience and fortitude amid these wastes lies their strongest title to

the gratitude of Christendom.

 

Peace is already dimming men’s memories of the War as effectually as the

grass is covering the ruins of devastated France. The Manchester

Territorial is back at his job. The broken home no longer feels the same

first poignancy of grief. “Man goeth forth unto his work and unto his

labour until the evening,” and it is a good thing for the world that he

does. Nevertheless, all men and women who cherish associations with the

7th Manchesters will, I think, read and re-read Captain Wilson’s work

for many years to come. From amid all the hardships and miseries of

soldiering which the Englishman readily forgets, the light of

self-sacrifice shines upon the human race with a never fading beauty.

Herein lies the true romance of war. As the reader turns over the

ensuing pages he cannot but realise something of the cumulative drudgery

and hardships which these men endured for their country.

 

To the 7th Manchesters themselves they mean much more. The very place

names of our warfare recall the memory of the comrades whom we have

loved and lost, the early enthusiasms which we shall never feel

again:—Khartoumn, Gallipoli, Shallufa, Suez, Ashton-in-Sinai, Coxyde,

Nieuport, Aire, B�thune, Ypres, Bucquoy, Havrincourt. When we are very

old, many of us will still conjure up the tune of “Keep the Home Fires

Burning” on the lips of tired men beneath the stars on Geoghegan’s

Bluff; the thud of the shovel falling upon the sand ridges of Sinai

while a blazing sun rose over Asia; the refrain of “Annie Laurie” sung

by candle-light in some high roofed barn behind the lines in Belgium.

 

I hear them now.

 

GERALD B. HURST.

 

List of Illustrations.

 

PAGE

 

PLATE I. Frontispiece

Brigadier-General Anthony M. Henley.

 

PLATE II. facing 8

1. Group of Officers. N.B. Fleur de Lys.

2. Ridge occupied on August 5th, 1916.

3. Issue of Water: Morning of August 5th, 1916.

4. In Katia: August 6th, 1916.

 

PLATE III. facing 18

1. Bivouac Shelters on the Desert.

2. Making the Railway over the Desert.

3. At El Mazar.

4. Digging a Well.

 

List of Sketch Maps.

 

PAGE

 

The Sinai Desert 21

 

Nieuport and Coast Sector 57

 

Round about Bapaume 78

 

Attack on the Hindenburg Line, September 27th, 1918 125

 

Area covered during advance of 42nd Division, 1918,

facing 143

 

CHAPTER I.

 

Holding up the Turk.

 

In September, 1914, the 7th Bn. Manchester Regiment set out for active

service in the East in goodly company, for they were a part of the 42nd

(East Lancashire) Division, the first territorials to leave these shores

during the Great War. After many interesting days spent on garrison duty

in the Sudan and Lower Egypt they journeyed to Gallipoli soon after the

landing had been effected, and took a continuous part in that ill-fated

campaign until the final evacuation. The beginning of 1916 thus found

them back in Egypt, where they were taking part in General Maxwell’s

scheme for the defence of the Suez Canal. The things that befell the

battalion during this long period have been admirably described in Major

Hurst’s book With Manchesters in the East, and this short history will

attempt to continue the narrative from the point where it left off.

 

At the end of June, 1916, the 7th Manchesters made a short trip by rail

along the Suez Canal, the last railway journey they were to make as a

battalion for many a long day. The 42nd Division left the defence of the

southern half of the Canal in the able hands of the East Anglian

Territorials, and journeyed north to the Kantara region. It was not

definitely known why we made this move, but there were persistent

rumours that we were destined for France, where events were speeding

towards a big battle. However, the 7th detrained at Kantara and there

met, for the first time since Gallipoli, the 52nd (Lowland Scottish)

Division. We knew very little of this coastal region of the desert.

Occasional stories had floated down to us to supplement the very meagre

official communiqu�s as to events there, but it was recognised as a

place where opportunities of getting in touch with our invisible enemy

were rather better than in the south. So it was felt that, even if we

did not go to France, life would lose a certain amount of that deadly

monotony which we had experienced for six months.

 

It transpired that the 127th Brigade were to relieve detachments of the

11th Division, who, it was openly whispered, were definitely to sail for

France to try their luck in the more vigorous scene of this great

adventure. Most interesting to us was the discovery that we were to take

over posts occupied by the 11th Manchesters, the first Kitchener

battalion of our own regiment. Our astonishment and delight can be

imagined when we saw that they wore the good old Fleur de Lys for a

battalion flash on the puggarees of their helmets—just as we wore it,

but yellow instead of green.

 

The battalion marched east along a good road recently made for military

purposes, and eventually reached Hill 70, where the headquarters were

established. Early next morning, garrisons marched out before the heat

of the day to occupy a series of posts arranged in semi-circular

formation between two inundations about three miles apart. “B” Company

took over Turk Top and No. 1 Post. Capt. Smedley, Capt. Brian Norbury,

2nd-Lt. C. B. Douglas, 2nd-Lt. Pell-Ilderton being at the former, while

Capt. J. R. Creagh, 2nd-Lt. Hacker, and later 2nd-Lt. Gresty took charge

of the latter. “C” Company were divided between Nos. 2 and 3 posts, with

Lt. Nasmith and 2nd-Lt. S. J. Wilson at No. 2, and Lt. Nidd and Lt.

Marshall at No. 3. “A” Company, who were responsible for Hill 70, was

commanded by Capt. Tinker assisted by 2nd-Lt’s. Kay, Woodward, Wood and

Wilkinson. The officers comprising headquarters were Lt.-Col. Canning,

C.M.G., Capt. Cyril Norbury (second in command), Major Scott

(Quartermaster), Capt. Farrow, M.C. (Medical Officer), Lt. H. C.

Franklin, M.C., Adjutant and 2nd-Lt. Bateman (Signal Officer), while

2nd-Lt. J. Baker was in charge of the Lewis guns of the battalion. “D”

Company were at Hill 40 in a reserve position under the command of

Capt. Higham supported by Capt. Townson, 2nd-Lt’s. Grey Burn, G. W. F.

Franklin, Ross-Bain, Gresty, Morten, and R. J. R. Baker. The work of the

transport was divided between Capt. Ward-Jones, and 2nd-Lt. M. Norbury.

 

The posts consisted of self-contained redoubts which were capable of

holding out in the matter of food and water for about three days.

They had been constructed at the cost of great labour by the 52nd

Division. Routine was simple, our only duties being to man our posts

before dawn, then improve and maintain the trenches and wire until

about 7 when the sun entered his impossible stage. The same thing

happened in the evening. During the night patrols were executed from

one post to the next. All this carried a certain interest because we

knew that the Turk might come near at any time in the shape of a

flying raiding column to reach the canal. Rumours were frequent of

his proximity, and when Turk Top one night frantically reported

mysterious green lights, out towards the enemy, serious preparations

were made for his reception. The climax came, however, about noon

one day at Hill 70 when those who were not asleep heard, with a

mixed feeling of old familiarity, “s-s-s-sh-sh-SH—flop.” Most of

us, after cringing in the usual manner, said, with a relieved air,

“Dud.” Then followed commotion. They had arrived and were shelling

the post. The shimmering desert was eagerly scanned by the officers’

field glasses, and all kinds of things were seen and not seen.

Meanwhile someone went to look at the “Dud,” and found not a shell

but a large stone, still quite hot. It finally dawned upon everyone

that we were bombarded from the heavens, and not by the Turk. It was

a meteorite, still preserved amongst the battalion’s war souvenirs,

which had upset our composure.

 

Whilst on duty at these posts we had a visit from the Marquis of

Tullibardine, now Duke of Atholl, of the Scottish Horse, who was

responsible for this section of the Canal defences. Lieut.-Gen.

Lawrence, afterwards Chief of Staff in France, who was in command of the

northern section of the Canal defences also paid a visit, and

remembered us as part of the brigade which he had commanded on

Gallipoli. Important changes took place in the battalion at this time.

Lt.-Col. Canning, C.M.G., relinquished the command, and returned