CHAPTER VII.

THE EVE OF THE GREAT GERMAN ATTACK.

(November 1917-March 1918.)

The New German Tactics—The Experiments at Riga, Caporetto, and Cambrai—The 9th Division moves to Gouzeaucourt—The South African Brigade in the Front Line—Hardships of this Period—The 3rd Regiment disbanded—General Lukin leaves the Division—The Memorial Service at Delville Wood—The Brigade again enters the Line—The British Scheme of Defence—The Quiet before the Storm—The Morning of the 21st March.

During the summer months there was a strange quiet on the Eastern front. The German armies did not advance, though the way seemed plain before them. But they were not idle. Ludendorff had seen the opportunity afforded by the downfall of Russia, and believed that long before America took the field in strength he could deal a decisive blow to the Allies in the West. He prepared most patiently for this final _coup_, and turned the whole of his Eastern front into one vast training camp, where picked divisions were practised in open fighting; for his scheme demanded a high perfection of discipline and individual stamina. The history of the war had been the history of new tactical methods devised to break the strength of entrenched defences. The Allies had tried repeatedly from Neuve Chapelle onward, each time changing their plan, and at last at the Somme they seemed to have found a method which, though slow and laborious in its working, was decisive in its results. But the defection of Russia put an end to the hopes of this plan, and once again the theory of war was recast. But while Byng at Cambrai was feeling his way towards new tactics, Germany had already decided upon a scheme. She had seen that surprise was essential, and that therefore a laboured artillery “preparation” was out of the question. She realized, too, that in order to get the full cumulative effect of a blow, division must follow division to strike while the iron was hot. If these two things—surprise and an endless chain of troops of assault—could be found, then it might be possible to deal the decisive blow within the narrow limits of time still permitted to her. A break here and a break there meant only a restricted advance, behind which the enemy’s front grew solid in time, as concrete hardens with exposure. She therefore aimed not at a breakthrough in the older sense, but at a general crumbling.

Ludendorff’s plan was based upon the highly specialized training of certain units, and was a legitimate conclusion from the German use of “storm troops.” The first point was the absence of any preliminary massing near the front of attack. Men were brought up by night marches just before zero hour, and secrecy was thus obtained for the assembly. Again, there was no long bombardment to alarm the enemy, and the guns began at the moment when the infantry advanced, the enemy’s back areas being confused by a deluge of gas shells. The assault was made by picked troops in open order, or rather in small clusters, carrying light trench mortars and many machine guns, with the field batteries close behind them in support. The actual mode of attack, which the French called “infiltration,” may be likened to a hand, of which the finger-tips are shod with steel, and which is pushed into a soft substance. The picked troops at the finger-ends made gaps through which others poured, till each section of the defence found itself outflanked and encircled. A system of flares and rockets enabled the following troops to learn where the picked troops had made the breach, and the artillery came close behind the infantry. The men had unlimited objectives, and carried iron rations for several days. When one division had reached the end of its strength, another took its place, so that the advance resembled a continuous game of leap-frog.

This method was the opposite of the old German mass attack, which had seen a succession of hammer-blows on one section of front. It was strictly the filtering of a great army into a hostile position, so that each part was turned, and the whole front was first dislocated and then crumbled. This might be achieved by inferior numbers; but a local numerical superiority was aimed at to ensure a complete victory by pushing far behind into unprotected areas. Advance was to be measured not by metres but by miles, and in any case was to proceed far enough to capture the enemy’s artillery positions. Obviously the effect would be cumulative, the momentum of the attack would grow, and, if it was not stopped in the battle-zone, it would be far harder to stop in the hinterland. It was no case of an isolated stroke, but of a creeping sickness, which might demoralize a hundred miles of front. Ludendorff was confident, for he saw his way presently to a numerical superiority in the West, and he had devised tactics which must come with deadly effect upon an enemy prepared to meet only the old methods. But his plan demanded immediate success. A protracted battle would destroy the picked troops, and without them the new tactics were futile.

The first experiment was made early in September, when von Hutier captured Riga. But the true test came in October, when Otto von Below, with the VI. German Army, broke through the Italian front at Caporetto, and drove Cadorna behind the Piave. After that there could be no question of the value of Germany’s plan. One other test, and her certainty was complete. On 20th November Byng struck at Cambrai, achieving by means of his tanks a genuine surprise. Ten days later came the German counterstroke—in two parts. The attack on the British left at Bourlon, carried out in the old fashion, signally failed. The attack on the British right between Masnières and Vendhuile, following the new fashion, as signally succeeded. But the Allied Staffs had not yet grasped the full meaning of the new method. Caporetto was explained by a breakdown in Italian _moral_ and Cambrai by defective local intelligence. Neither explanation was sound, and four months later the armies of France and Britain read the true lesson in letters of fire.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: _Nov. 20._]

On 20th November the 9th Division moved from the Belgian coast. The South African Brigade spent some days in rest-billets in the Fruges area, engaged in training the recruits which had arrived to replace the casualties of Third Ypres. On the 30th news came of the counterstroke at Cambrai, and the battalions were ordered to be ready to move at short notice. On the morning of 1st December they began their long march southward to the accompaniment of a deluge of rain and a sharp east wind. The lorries which carried the kits and blankets did not turn up, being required for some other purpose by the army controlling that area, with the result that the men passed three nights of bitter weather without adequate covering. Presently came snow, and then a binding frost, and when, on 3rd December, the Brigade arrived at Moislains, it was after three days of weary marches in the worst of weathers and a freezing night in the train.

[Sidenote: _Dec. 3._]

During the night of the 3rd they were ordered to relieve the 2nd Brigade of Guards at Gouzeaucourt, nine miles off. The 9th Division became part of the VII. Corps, under Sir Walter Congreve. By the night of the 4th the 2nd and 4th South African Regiments had taken over a section of the front line, with the 1st in support and the 3rd in reserve. The line now held was that established by the Guards Division after their brilliant advance on 1st December. It consisted of a newly-dug trench on the east slope of Quentin Ridge, extending from Gauche Wood, on the right, to a point near the head of Flag Ravine. No communication trenches existed, and in the right battalion section all approaches to the front line were under enemy observation. The trenches were neither fire-stepped nor revetted, and no dug-outs or shelters existed in the forward area. There was also very little wire, the whole position having been extemporized during the recent battle. The relief was carried through successfully, and the commanding officer of a Coldstream battalion wrote to Lieutenant-Colonel Christian complimenting the 2nd Regiment on its work, adding that the Guards had long heard of the South Africans’ reputation, and did not wish to be relieved by better troops.

As attacks on this part of the front were daily expected, the forward battalions had to detail troops to occupy the immediate support trenches as “counter-attack forces,” while the reserve battalion constituted a counter-attack force for the Brigade. The next few weeks were filled with strenuous work. Material had to be salved or brought up for the defence of the area, a large number of British and German dead had to be buried, trenches had to be broadened and deepened, and shelters constructed. All through December the Brigade was heavily shelled. On the morning of the 8th, for example, the 2nd Regiment lost by shell-fire Captain E. C. Bryant and Second-Lieutenants V. S. Dickerson and G. J. S. Mandy killed, while Second-Lieutenants B. Pope-Hennessy and L. Arnold were wounded. On the night of the 8th the 2nd and 4th Regiments were relieved by the 1st and 3rd, the 4th becoming the Brigade reserve, while the 2nd formed the garrison of the support and reserve lines. During the first week the casualties averaged throughout the Brigade about thirty a day, which were severe for trench warfare. After that they slackened, but carrying parties at night continued to suffer heavily. The Brigade, by constant patrolling, maintained its ascendancy in No Man’s Land, but the German outposts were exceptionally vigilant. The worst trial was the weather, which was first frost, then thaw, and then about the middle of the month a settled frost, which lasted until the New Year.

These violent changes added to the difficulty of the task by causing the trenches constantly to collapse, and the severity of the climate told heavily upon troops who had only lately been through a long action, and had had a peculiarly trying journey from the Belgian coast. Moreover, a large percentage of the new recruits were less able to withstand hardships than the older soldiers. Everything that was possible was done to ensure their comfort. Regimental kitchens were constructed so that the men could be supplied with hot meals during the night. A Brigade soup-kitchen was established in the support line under the superintendence of the chaplains, where men could receive hot soup at any hour. Nevertheless, during this month of December, the sickness returns were larger than at any similar period during the history of the Brigade. The chief malady was trench feet, but by the middle of the month rooms for the medical care of this ailment had been established at Heudicourt and Fins, and during rest periods all the men were sent there for preventive treatment.

[Sidenote: _Jan. 13, 1918._]

[Sidenote: _Jan. 23._]

[Sidenote: _Jan. 31._]

On 13th January the Brigade came out of the line, and for ten days was billeted in the villages of Moislains, Heudicourt, Fins, and Sorel-le-Grand. On the 23rd the 2nd and 3rd Regiments moved again into the line to relieve units of the 26th Brigade, and the 1st and 4th Regiments followed the next day. The relief was carried out without casualties. When the Brigade arrived at Heudicourt on 4th December it numbered 148 officers and 3,621 other ranks. By January 23rd its total strength had shrunk to 79 officers and 1,661 men. On the last day of January all four battalions came out of the front trenches, and were moved to a back area for a much needed month’s rest.

[Sidenote: _Feb. 18._]

That month was spent in training for the great battle which was now believed to be due in early March. One sad change had perforce to be made. It had been resolved to reduce the British divisions from a thirteen battalion to a ten battalion basis, and this meant that one battalion must disappear from each brigade. General Smuts and General Lukin, after consultation with General Dawson, decided to disband the 3rd (Transvaal and Rhodesia) Regiment, which had received the smallest number of recruits during the past twelve months. On 8th February Dawson visited the battalion to explain the decision. He promised that as far as possible complete companies would be sent as reinforcements to the other regiments of the Brigade, and that every assistance would be given to officers and men who might desire to transfer to outside units. Accordingly, on 18th February, the 3rd Regiment was finally disbanded, practically all the officers, N.C.O.’s, and men joining the other South African regiments.

In the beginning of March General Lukin relinquished the command of the 9th Division to Major-General Tudor, who formerly commanded the divisional artillery, and returned home on leave. While at home he was compelled because of the grave illness of his wife to accept the offer of a tour of duty in England. He had had more than two years of the most arduous service, first as brigadier and then as divisional general, and he left to the profound regret of all his colleagues.[25] It was a departure that could not be without its element of sadness, especially for the South Africans, for it meant a break in that continuity of tradition which they had hitherto preserved. They had begun with Lukin, and till March 1918 they had been directly or indirectly under Lukin. These changes were, as it were, symbolical of the change which was coming over the aspect of the war. The former things were passing away; the long months of almost static trench warfare were about to give place to a stormy season, when all maps had to be redrawn and every conception of war revised. It was the eve of the ultimate phase which at long last was to determine the issue of the campaign.

[Sidenote: _Feb. 17._]

But before these changes came about one great episode in the past record of the Brigade was commemorated. On the 17th February all its regiments, including the vanishing 3rd, took part in a memorial service at Delville Wood. On the south side of the place towards Longueval a tall wooden cross had been erected, bearing the inscription: “In Memory of the Officers and Men of the 1st South African Brigade who fell in Action in July 1916 in the Battle of the Somme.” Before this cross, among the shattered tree-stumps, the drumhead service was held, and around in a square stood details of the four battalions. First came a lament on the pipes, composed by Pipe-Major Grieve of the 4th Regiment. The service was conducted by the chaplains of the English, Presbyterian, and Dutch Churches, and the hymns included the beautiful Dutch version of the Hundredth Psalm. Sir Douglas Haig wrote to General Lukin:—

“I send you these few lines to greet you and all South Africans who meet together on Sunday next in honour of those brave men who, at the call of justice and humanity, came from a distant continent to fight and die for the principles they held sacred. The story of the great struggle of July 1916 for the ridge on which Delville Wood stands, when South Africa played so conspicuous a part, will live for all time in the history of our Empire—a perpetual witness to the strength of those common ideals which bind together all British people. The task of those who fell in Delville Wood and by their gallant death made desolation glorious, has not yet been completed; but I feel confident that those who remain will see to it that their blood shall not have been shed in vain.”

It was a clear day of frost and bright sunshine, and in the pause of the hymns, like the sound of breakers heard afar off on a coast, came the drone of airplanes overhead, and the echo of the now distant guns. That ceremony was something more than a commemoration of a great thing in the past. It was a sacrament taken in preparation for a still greater test of manhood now impending. For before the next month had closed, the enemy flood had once again poured over the wastes of Delville, and the flower of the South Africans had fallen in a new Thermopylæ.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: _March 12._]

Early in March the Brigade moved up to the front area, and on the night of the 12th began to take over from the 116th Brigade of the 39th Division the sector east of Heudicourt. Ever since the close of 1917 the Allied Command in the West had been conscious that the situation had altered. The Germans were able now to resume the offensive at their will, and the next phase of the campaign must see the Allies on their defence. Haig and Pétain were aware that large reinforcements could be brought from the East, which would give Ludendorff a numerical superiority until such time as the Americans arrived to redress the balance. Nevertheless, the general temper of the armies of France and Britain was one of confidence. At the worst they believed that they would have to face a small preponderance in numbers; but they had faced greater odds at First Ypres and Verdun, and had held their ground. Let the enemy attack and break his head against their iron barriers. He would only be the weaker when the time came for their final advance.

But certain wiser heads among both soldiers and civilians were uneasy. They knew that the German Staff would make a desperate effort to secure a decision while they still held their opponents at a disadvantage. The German defence had been conducted in a long-prepared fortified zone; the battles of 1917 had given us a new line, in parts only a month or two old. How, it was asked, would we fare against a resolute assault? Worst of all, we were deplorably short of men. Haig had not received during 1917 the minimum levies he had asked for, and had been compelled to put into the line of battle men imperfectly trained, and to strain good divisions to breaking point. There were other drawbacks which bore specially hard upon the British. Up to January 1918 their right wing had been Sir Julian Byng’s Third Army. Before the middle of that month the Third Army was moved a little farther north, and the place on its right taken by Sir Hubert Gough’s Fifth Army from the Ypres area, which replaced the French in front of St. Quentin. About the 20th the Fifth Army extended its right as far south as Barisis, across the Oise, thus making itself responsible for a line of 72,000 yards.

For this new duty Haig had not received proportionate reinforcements. He had now a front of 125 miles, and he did not dare to weaken his north and central sections, where, in the case of an attack, he had but little room to manœuvre. So he was compelled to leave the Fifth Army on his right in a condition of perilous weakness. Gough on his forty-mile front had no more than eleven divisions in line, and three infantry and two cavalry divisions in reserve. His right three divisions were holding 30,000 yards—an average of one bayonet to the yard, while the German average was four.

There was the further handicap that the Germans from their position inside the great salient in the west could concentrate with ease a force of attack, and until the actual assault was made the Allied Command would not know on which side of the salient the blow would fall. For Ludendorff’s dispositions would threaten the French in Champagne as much as the British at St. Quentin. There was still no centralized command, though the Versailles Council provided something in the nature of a unified Staff. Hence it would not be easy to arrange for co-operation with Pétain and for the support of French reserves till the battle had developed, for the French commander would not unreasonably desire to keep his reserves at a point where they could be used with equal facility for St. Quentin or Champagne. Yet it was to French support that Gough must look in the first instance, since the available British reserves had been allotted to Byng, and it would take time to bring troops from Plumer and Horne in the north.

The British Command attempted to atone for its weakness in numbers by devising defences of exceptional strength. In front, along the ground held by Byng and Gough, lay the “forward zone” organized in two sections—a line of outposts to give the alarm and fall back, and a well-wired line of resistance. In both were a number of skilfully placed redoubts armed with machine guns, and so arranged that any enemy advance would be drawn on between them, so as to come under cross fire. The spaces between the redoubts were to be protected by a barrage of field guns and corps heavy guns. The line of resistance and the redoubts were intended to hold out till the last, and to receive no support from the rear, except for such counter-attacks as might be necessary. The purpose of this “forward zone” was to break up an advancing enemy, and the principle of its organization was “blobs” rather than a continuous line.

Behind the “forward zone,” at a distance of from half a mile to three miles or more, came the “battle zone,” arranged on the same plan, except that it had no outposts. It was a defence in depth, elaborately wired, and studded with strong-points. A mile or two in its rear lay the third and final defensive zone, which in March was little more than a sketch. The theory of the system was that the “forward zone” would break up the cohesion of any assault, and that the “battle zone” would be impregnable against an attack thus weakened. Consequently the alternative positions in the rear—the third zone and the Péronne bridgehead—were not serious defences. Considering the small number of men available, it was not possible to provide any further safeguards in the time. On the “battle zone” rested the hope of resistance for the Third and Fifth Armies. If it failed to stand, the situation would be grave indeed, for there were no prepared defences to fall back upon, and no immediate hope of reserves.

The 9th Division formed the extreme left of the Fifth Army, with, on its right, the 21st Division under Major-General David Campbell; and on its left the 47th (London Territorial) Division under Major-General Sir G. F. Gorringe—the right flank of Byng’s Third Army. The 9th held its front with two brigades, the 26th on the left and the South Africans on the right, with the 27th in reserve. The South African sector covered some 2,000 yards from just north of Quentin Redoubt to just south of Gauche Wood. The Brigade was distributed in depth—that is to say, it was responsible not only for the front line, but for all other trench lines to the depth of about a mile. This made it impossible for it to man the entire length of its trenches, so its front was held by a series of posts placed at key positions, and so arranged as to enable their occupants to cover the whole ground with their fire. As the hour of attack approached, the “forward zone” was held by the 2nd Regiment on the right and the 1st on the left, with the 4th Regiment in reserve in the “battle zone.”

To understand the battle which followed, it is necessary to examine more closely the nature of the Brigade’s position. The country around Gouzeaucourt is more deeply cut than most of the tableland, with small valleys and ravines running north by east. The South African “forward zone” lay west of the village of Villers-Guislain, and was separated from it by a well-defined hollow. The outpost line had two important points—Quentin Redoubt on the north, garrisoned by a company of the 1st Regiment; and Gauche Wood on the south, held by a company of the 2nd Regiment. The line of resistance ran from near the point called Chapel Crossing on the railway, along the west side of the Gouzeaucourt valley, and along the east side of the ruins of Gouzeaucourt. The “battle zone” began about the same point, and its first line, following the high ground west of the valley, curved round the western end of Gouzeaucourt. The reserve line of this zone lay some three-quarters of a mile farther west, from Chapel Hill along the eastern slope of the ridges north of Revelon Farm. This was known to the Brigade as the Yellow Line. A few hundred yards farther back, on the western slopes of the same ridges, lay the Brown Line, the final line of the “battle zone.” Three miles in the rear lay what was known as the Green Line, the third zone of defence, which, as we have seen, was still in embryo. Apart from the posts in the “forward zone,” the specially fortified areas of resistance for the 9th Division were—for the 26th Brigade, Gouzeaucourt village and the place called Queen’s Cross, south-east of Gouzeaucourt; and for the South Africans, Revelon Farm, and, should that fail, the village of Heudicourt.

[Illustration: POSITIONS HELD BY THE SOUTH AFRICAN BRIGADE AT THE OUTSET OF THE GERMAN OFFENSIVE OF 1918.]

[Sidenote: _March 14._]

The first weeks of March saw the dry, bright weather of a Picardy spring. As early as the 14th our airplanes reported a big concentration well back in the enemy’s hinterland, and the Third and Fifth Armies were warned of an approaching battle. The troops on our front waited on the future with composure. No one, perhaps, either in France or Britain, realized how much Germany was prepared to stake on this, her last blow, or the immense asset which her new tactics gave her. They did not know that Ludendorff had promised his country absolute and complete victory at the cost of a million and a half losses, and that she had accepted the price. Many raids undertaken during these days established the arrival of fresh enemy divisions in line; but they gave us no notion of the real German strength. One fact however we learned—that Thursday, the 21st March, was the day appointed for the attack.

The last eight days were the quietest which the South African Brigade had ever known in the front line, and they had scarcely a casualty. On Tuesday, the 19th, the weather broke in a drizzle, but it cleared on the Wednesday, with the result that a thick mist was drawn out of the ground and muffled all the folds of the downs. That day was spent in an eerie calm, like the hush which precedes a storm. When the sun set, the men in the front trenches were looking into heavy fog, which grew thicker as darkness fell. There was no warning of any enemy movement, scarcely even a casual shell or the sputter of outpost fire.

[Sidenote: _March 21._]

About 2 a.m. on the morning of the 21st word was passed along our lines to expect an assault. The “forward zone” was always kept fully manned; but at half-past four the order went out to man the “battle zone.” Still the same uncanny silence held, and the same clinging fog, under cover of which the Germans were methodically pushing up troops into line, till by dawn on the fifty odd miles of front between Croisilles and the Oise they had thirty-seven divisions within 3,000 yards of our outposts. Then, precisely at a quarter to five, the whole weight of their many thousand guns was released on the British forward and battle zones, headquarters, communications, and artillery posts, the back areas specially being drenched with gas, which hung like a pall in the moist and heavy air. Ludendorff had flung the dice for victory.