Part 6

When we had eaten our rations we fell in again and moved off, and a few hundred yards down the road came on our cavalry, dismounted behind some buildings. From them we learnt that the enemy had been located about half a mile farther down the road. We were told from this point to leave the road and move in sections across country, and in this formation passed on beyond the cavalry. They had done their job and found the enemy, and it was now for us to come and take up the line.

VIII. GETTING INTO ACTION

After the cavalry had withdrawn my regiment was lined out along a road running at right angles to the road down which we had advanced. From this time onwards for the next ten days I only knew what the companies on my left and right were doing, and not always that. As a platoon commander, I was responsible for the fifty men under me, and all the information it was necessary for me to have was included in the orders which Goyle, my company commander, gave for the movements of my platoon. Therefore, for general knowledge of the battle, I had to rely on such deductions as I could make from sound of firing on my right and left and any gossip I could pick up when I went back to regimental headquarters.

Advancing to attack in these days of modern warfare is a very slow business. It is essential that platoons, companies, and regiments should move forward together in one line and not allow gaps to come between them, and what with one regiment waiting for another to advance, and each waiting for orders from their respective colonels, who in turn are waiting for the word from the Brigadier, there is often considerable delay. This delay is to a certain extent mitigated by the general policy of junior officers of pushing forward on their own initiative until they are stopped.

As a platoon commander one works with the platoon commander on one's left or right, leaving the platoon sergeant to keep in touch with the platoon on the other flank. To have a fellow subaltern to talk to as one lies in a ditch being shelled is a great comfort.

However, we were kept along the road we had first lined for about an hour before any further move was made, and most of the officers of the regiment congregated in a little group while we were waiting for orders. I was much interested in watching the doings of some gunner officers who had come up. Two of them were surveying the ground in front through field-glasses. From where we were we could see nothing, and as there had not been a shot fired that day we did not know how many of the enemy there were in front of us or where they were. However, the gunners were able to see something, for, after a bit, they conferred with the battery commander. Acting on their information he sent back a message for the guns to come up, and up they dashed, wheeled into line in the field, and unlimbered.

I happened to be standing near the battery commander, and ventured to ask him what he was going to do.

"I'm going to shell ----ville," he replied.

He was a squat, stumpy little major, who looked as though he had just made a capital breakfast, and he spoke of his intentions with as much complacency as if he was going out for a morning's partridge-shooting. Two minutes later he had given a crisp order, and the six businesslike grey nozzles had barked in sharp succession, and sent six shells screaming over the quiet countryside. Poor ----ville! Many shells have since crashed into the pretty little French village, but I shall never forget seeing its baptism of fire or the complacent way in which the tubby little major announced that he was going to shell the place.

Soon after this orders came for the infantry to advance, and Goyle sent for his four platoon commanders and gave his orders. Our company was responsible for keeping touch with the Dorchester Regiment on our left; No. 5 platoon, under Evans, was immediately responsible for this, with No 6 (mine) next, and 7 (under Edwards), and 8 (under Mayne), on the right. This was to be the first day's fighting for Edwards and Mayne, as they had only come out from England with reinforcements two days before. Edwards had been a Sandhurst cadet a month ago, but Mayne was a retired officer who had fought in South Africa; however, there was nothing to choose in composure between the boy and the man.

Goyle took us to a point where we could see the ground we were to move over, and showed us a ditch which he wished us to crawl along until we reached another ditch at right angles to it which we were to line. In this way we should be able to do the first part of the advance without being seen at all. Evans took his platoon out first, and when he had got a good start I followed with mine. He reached the ditch without mishap, but here we had to remain some while, as the Dorchester Regiment on our left had not got up in line with us. Verbal messages then passed between Evans and the subaltern in command of the right platoon of the Dorchester Regiment. Evans wanted to know why the Dorchesters were not in line with him, and the subaltern of the Dorchester's why he, Evans, had advanced so far. Up till now our guns behind had been firing steadily over our heads, and not a sound or sign had come from the enemy, but now suddenly, in the middle of the argument between Evans and the Dorchester subaltern, there was a different whistle in the air, a crash, and a white puff of smoke just behind us.

"Hullo!" Evans looked round and slid quickly to the bottom of the ditch.

The enemy's first shell was followed by two others, which burst about the same place, and then by three which fell farther over us.

"They are after our guns," said Evans.

This was my first taste of hostile shell-fire, but the shells passed so harmlessly overhead that it hardly seemed as though we were under fire at all. After a while orders came for us to continue our advance. This time my platoon had to lead the way and advance up a ditch to another parallel ditch about three hundred yards away. We gained the ditch without incident, but it was a queer experience, pushing forward over the empty fields, never knowing when we were coming on the enemy or what lay ahead of us. When my platoon and the platoon under Evans were safely in the ditch, No. 7 was told to follow. To reach our line No. 7 had to cross over some open ground, and this proved their undoing, for midway across a shell burst just in front of them, followed by another and another.

"By Jove," said Evans, "Edward's lot has been spotted."

We watched. Edwards, as soon as he came under fire, had halted his men beneath a bit of bank, and from where we were we could see no sign of a man above the surface of the ground. But the enemy battery had evidently found their mark, for they plastered the little bank with shrapnel. I watched, able to do nothing and sorry in my heart. It was a very fierce baptism of fire for a Sandhurst cadet, and I wondered how the boy was faring.

It was now well on towards dusk, and as the light failed the firing stopped. Slowly, what was left of the exposed platoon began to creep up to our ditch, and much to my delight Edwards himself came up unhurt with the first man. He said he had had ten men hit, a man sitting beside him killed, and a tree just above blown in half. The boy seemed none the worse for his experience, and only a little anxious lest he had exposed his men unnecessarily to fire.

It now looked as though we were to spend the night where we were. I posted a patrol out in some bushes ahead and told the men to get to work with their entrenching tools to improve their cover. As it grew darker, the strain of looking out into the night for an enemy who never appeared became oppressive. Evans reported from the left that he could see no sign of the Dorchester Regiment, and we appeared to be in rather an isolated position. Much to my relief Goyle came up soon and said he intended to withdraw the company to the place whence we had started. It was a great relief to be able to lie down close to our own guns and near the Colonel and regimental headquarters. As soon as the men were settled I went back to the first-line transport to get the officers' rations for the next day. Goyle had given me the job of feeding the five officers in the company, leaving it to me to make arrangements for cooking where possible, and, when not, to see that each had a parcel of food to last him through the day. I found the regimental quartermaster-sergeant busy issuing rations to the different company orderly corporals. The work was being done in a barn by the light of a guttering candle. In a corner of the barn five of Edwards's platoon, who had come under the shrapnel fire, lay stretched out stiff and cold.

The quartermaster-sergeant saluted me cheerily and packed my ration-box with our rations, giving me a piece of bacon to divide between us, a wedge of cheese, fifteen army biscuits, a tin of jam, and three small tins of bully beef. With the box under one arm I started back for the company. On the way, having learnt from a sentry where regimental headquarters were, I just peeped in to see what was going on. After the day's work, there is often something to be picked up at regimental headquarters in the way of a tot of whisky from a bottle sent down by the Brigadier, or a helping from a dixie of soup sent up by the master-cook. Young subalterns are not supposed to hang about waiting for these delicacies, but if they do push a hungry face round the door and hastily withdraw it a kindly colonel or adjutant will often ask them in. Having therefore located regimental headquarters as being in the kitchen of a farm, I tapped on the door and asked if anyone had seen Goyle.

"Yes, here he is", said the Colonel, and I saw my company commander's nose emerge from a steaming cup of coffee. Round the fire were the Colonel, Adjutant, scout and machine-gun officers, the doctor, Goyle, and two other company commanders. These little informal gatherings are held by most regiments when the day's work is done and the night is not going to be busy, and a great relief it is, too, to be able to laugh and see the funny side of things after the strain of an anxious day. At the first sound of firing they melt.

I was given a cup of coffee and wheedled a cigarette out of a scout officer, who had just had some sent out from England. After warming myself for a quarter of an hour I said good-night and returned to the company across the field, taking with me a bundle of straw from the farmyard, which made a capital bed.

IX. AN ATTACK AT DAWN

I had not been sleeping long when I was awakened by a foot gently feeling the small of my back.

Looking up, I saw Evans standing over me.

"Goyle wants you," he said; "he is just down there." Evans pointed to a dark corner of the ditch in which the company was spending the night.

I got up from the pile of straw on which I was lying and followed him. Goyle was squatting on the ground with a map and an electric torch which he was shading under his greatcoat. He had just come back from battalion headquarters, where he had been to receive orders.

"We are going to attack at dawn," he began, as soon as his four platoon commanders were settled round him. "We are to gain the line ----," he indicated the points on the map which marked the position we were to capture. "The Dorchesters have orders to take ----ville"--he pointed to a village on our left--"and the --th Brigade are to take ----"--he pointed to another village marked on the right. "The attack begins as soon as it is light, which will be 5 A.M. I want you to see now that the platoons return their tools" (we had been digging earlier in the night), "that each man has his rations, and that twenty-five bandoliers of spare ammunition are carried per platoon. The mist will cover the first part of our advance, and there must be no firing until the order is given by me."

We went off to carry out the instructions given, and then lay down to wait for the dawn.

Perhaps Evans and the other platoon commanders slept. I don't know. I know only that for my part I did not. The thought that we were to attack at dawn dispelled any lingering sleepiness. I looked at my watch--3 A.M.--in an hour it would begin to grow light. How would the day end? What would be the fate of the attack? I wondered if Goyle was awake, and thought I would go down to him. I peeped down into the corner of the ditch where I knew he was lying. A dark form lay stretched at full length, and I heard a gentle snore. I lay down again.

After a while, looking out in the direction of the enemy, I saw a faint flush low in the sky. I watched. The flush swelled to a vast crimson glow. I woke Goyle. For a moment we looked at the day breaking blood-red over the fields across which we were to fight our way. Than we went, one either way along the ditch, rousing the men.

The men yawned, stretched themselves, and stood to arms. Their bayonets, which they always kept fixed during the night, glittered faintly in the early light. The crimson flush was broken now, and streaks of yellow and pure white shot the sky.

Goyle caught my arm.

Low on the horizon the crest of a yellow ball just showed above the trees. "The sun," he said.

_CRASH! bang! CRASH! bang! bang! bang!_

We listened as our guns behind opened the ceremony with a salvo. They fired fast for five or ten minutes.

"The Dorchesters are advancing on our left, sir"--the message was passed down to Goyle.

He signed for the company to advance. The men crawled up out of the ditch and pushed over the country in a thin line. Evans was on my left, with Edwards and No. 8 platoon commander on the right.

We advanced very slowly, with long pauses, lying flat on the ground waiting for orders to continue. Now the officer commanding the company on the right would send word to say he had reached such a point, and would C Company come up in line with him? Now Evans passed along that we were getting ahead of the Dorchesters. The attack is a very slow and ticklish business in these days of modern firearms. All this while steady firing could be heard on the right as the --th Brigade swung round, and for about an hour there was sharp firing on the left, but in front of us not a shot was heard.

At last we gained a group of cottages on a road which marked the point we had been told to reach. There was still no sign of the enemy, and had it not been for the firing on the right and left we should have doubted his existence in the neighbourhood, so quiet and peaceful did the cottages look.

However, we heard afterwards that the brigade on the right had suffered heavily, and that the brisk firing on the left was the Dorchester Regiment under machine-gun fire from the village they had been told to take. It just happened to be our luck that day to have an uncontested piece of frontage to advance over.

A road ran through the group of houses and beyond a ploughed field. At the end of the ploughed field there was a hedge and ditch, which formed a natural trench facing the enemy. In spite of the apparent absence of the enemy Goyle refused to allow the men to loiter about along the road or in the farms and cottages, but ordered the company to line this ditch. As it turned out later it was well he did so.

As soon as I had seen my platoon lined along their section of the ditch I went back to a farm behind to explore. I found Jenkins, my soldier servant, there before me, busy searching the farm for breakfast. He had found half a dozen new-laid eggs in an outhouse, kindled a small fire in the farmyard, and was boiling the eggs in his canteen. He was not, strictly speaking, supposed to be doing this, but soldier servants are a privileged class, and Jenkins was the most tactful of servants. On my going up to him to see what he was doing he pointed to the eggs triumphantly and said they were for me. So instead of telling him to join the company at once in the ditch I stayed with him to watch them boil. I had not been in the farmyard two minutes when suddenly sharp firing broke out from the ditch. So we had found something in front of us at last. I dashed across the ploughed field to my platoon, leaving Jenkins, quite unperturbed, still watching the eggs. Reaching the ditch I flung myself down beside Evans, who was lying against the bank peering to the front through the hedge. We could see nothing; however, our fellows continued to fire furiously. For the first minute or two the firing was so hot that both Evans and I thought there must be something ahead of us. As it continued, though we could still see nothing, we crept along behind the men to try to find out what they were firing at. My platoon sergeant informed me that he thought the enemy were lining the corner of a wood 400 yards away. He had seen one or two dodging in and out among the trees. However, as no reply was made to our fire, I ordered that no man was to fire unless he saw something, and gradually the line grew quiet again.

Suddenly there was a dull report from a distant point in front, and a shell whistled overhead. Looking back, I saw it strike the roof of the farm where I had left Jenkins. Poor Jenkins! I wondered if he was still cooking those eggs! However, I had no time to speculate on his fate, for the enemy, having located our position owing to our own rather unnecessarily aggressive outburst of rifle fire, began to shell us. Round after round they sent crashing into the cottages and farms, and then, shortening their range, began to put shots just over our ditch. Well it was that Matley had made all the men get into the ditch from the beginning. It was a fine deep ditch, and few of the many thousands of shrapnel bullets found their mark. Soon after the shelling started it began to rain heavily. It was a weird experience lying there in the ditch with the rain pouring down on us from above and the shrapnel bullets crashing sideways like a leaden hailstorm through the hedge. The men pulled their water-proof sheets from their packs, and, spreading these over themselves, lay down in the ditch, smoking unconcernedly. Now and again a wounded man whose cover had not been sufficient would crawl by. One very fat lance-corporal I remember, puffing along on his hands and knees as fast as his rifle and pack would let him. He kept slipping, catching his pack in the branches, and swearing profusely. He had been caught in the most fleshy part of his body, and evidently was of the opinion that there was no place like home, for from time to time he grunted, "Stretcher bearer! Stretcher bearer! 'Ere! I've been 'it!" He was a most comic sight, and I couldn't help laughing as he passed.

The firing went on intermittently throughout the day. At dusk we were withdrawn, another company taking our place in the ditch. We were formed up behind the shelter of a farm wall on the road behind, and told we were going to be taken back into reserve for the night.

By the farm I found Mulligan, a brother subaltern. Taking me gently by the elbow he led me into the farm kitchen, through a door beyond, and down some cellar steps. I lit my torch to look around. The cellar floor was heaped with broken and empty bottles and corks. On a shelf were half-finished glasses of wine. A party of German soldiers had evidently been in before us and helped themselves, breaking what they could not drink. However, they had left one or two bottles intact amid the debris, from which Mulligan and I each had a good glass of red wine, for which I hope the owner, if he ever returns to his battered home, will forgive us.

Coming out of the farm, much to my delight, I met Jenkins still alive, in spite of the shell-fire. He pressed two cold, hard objects into my hand.

"How did you get these?" I asked.

"They were them eggs I was cooking this morning," he replied; "I had to quit when that first shell came--nearly went up, eggs and all, with it. But I went back afterwards. The fire was out--but they was boiled all right, if you don't mind 'em hard."

X. THE RESERVE COMPANY

After D Company had taken over our section of trench we remained on the road behind for a time, while the authorities were deciding what to do with us. Goyle said the question was whether we were required to fill a gap between our right company and the Dorchesters on our left or whether our right company and the Dorchesters between them could span this gap and enable us to go back as reserve company into billets.

We waited in the rain for our orders. The men stood expectantly with their rifles slung over their shoulders, their hands in their pockets, and their greatcoat collars turned up to their ears. They said little. Now and again one would say to another hopefully, "We're going back to billets--ain't we, Bill?" One or two of my N.C.O.s came up and asked me if I knew what was going to happen, and I told them the situation, about which, like the dutiful fellows they were, they expressed no opinion. He is a wonderful fellow on active service is Tommy Atkins. However roughly his inclinations may be torn he never says a word, but just does what is required of him so long as he can stand. Those men would have gone off to fill the gap that night without a question or thought except that it had to be done, and perhaps a "Gor blimey!" on life in general and European warfare in particular.