The History of the Prince of Wales' Civil Service Rifles

by Anonymous

PREFACE

This brief story of the 2/15th Battalion, London Regiment, is written, not as a specimen of literary art, but merely as a record of the work of the Battalion during the War of 1914-1918.

It is compiled from rough notes in my pocket diary, and probably some of the events in the experience of others have been overlooked, and to these I offer my apologies.

I have to thank Lieutenants J. L. Hutchinson, M.C., and T. H. E. Clark for their kindness and assistance in furnishing the notes for the greater part of Chapters IX and XI, especially the accounts of the Capture of Jerusalem, the Turkish Counter-Attack at Tel el Ful, and the journey to Es Salt. In these actions both these officers served with distinction.

I have also taken the liberty to include extracts from a Brief History of the 30th Division in France, in writing up the last three chapters of this book.

A. C. H. BENKÉ.

CHAPTER XXVII
FORMATION—TRAINING—IRISH REBELLION, 1916—AND DEPARTURE FOR FRANCE, JUNE, 1916

During the early days of August, 1914, the Headquarters of the Civil Service Rifles at Somerset House was besieged by crowds of younger Civil Servants; either wishing to re-enlist in their old Battalion, or to start their military career in the Civil Service Rifles, which had been mobilised for Active Service. Many of them were able to gain an entrance into the 1st Battalion, but others were disappointed. From the latter the nucleus of a second line unit was formed, and eventually the War Office authorised the existence of a new Battalion, the 2/15th Battalion, County of London Regiment.

The feeling of a separate existence brought with it great enthusiasm, and although arms, equipment and stores were slow in coming, every one worked hard to make an efficient unit. Training was carried out in the London parks, and each morning the semi-equipped army of recruits marched out of Somerset House for the day’s work. Indeed, so slow was the equipping of the Battalion that many of the keener members wondered whether they would be “too late for the war.”

However, before very long the new unit, under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel R. G. Hayes, T.D., left London for Dorking. This was, indeed, a pleasant change from the Metropolis, where friends constantly asked the budding rifleman, “Why aren’t you at the front?”

Training was pursued with more realism in the new area; organisation improved, and the novelty of “billets” was still prevalent. A word of appreciation for the kindness of the people of Dorking might well be included in this book. They did all they could to make the new soldiers comfortable.

Route marches among the beautiful Surrey Hills and sham fights over the surrounding country-side soon brought the physique of the men to a high standard, and the rigors of a cold, wet winter were easily borne. Leith Hill, the pleasure ground of many a week-end in previous years, became the training ground of England’s new armies. True, the pack and the rifle made the climbing stiffer, but keenness and enthusiasm to get out to fight the Bosche helped one to forget the additional fatigue.

Early in the spring of 1915, drafts were furnished for the completion of the 1st Battalion at Watford, which had then been ordered to France. This depleted the ranks of the younger unit, but recruits arrived from Somerset House, where a third line depot had been established, and the 2nd Battalion soon recovered its numbers, and shortly afterwards followed in the footsteps of the 1st Battalion which had then left for the front.

The move of the 2nd Battalion from Dorking was the first real move as a unit, and was creditably done. How many hours of worry and labour it involved does not concern us here, but what a contrast to the 2nd Battalion of two years later, which moved its home complete within a couple of hours after the receipt of orders; every one working with the precision of an automatic machine.

Following so closely on the heels of our 1st Battalion at Watford, added to the welcome of the people of Hertfordshire. The impression left by the parent Battalion was exceedingly fine, and the Watford folk looked upon the 2nd Battalion as part of a regiment they loved; in fact, they felt a part ownership in the Civil Service Rifles, and continued to thrust upon us all those wonderful kindnesses they had so recently bestowed upon the 1st Battalion. Houses were thrown open for entertainment, baths and meals; and there was no difficulty in billeting; every one was welcomed into the household. It must be remembered that at this time the billeting of troops in private houses was new to the people of Britain. In some parts it was a matter for misgivings and suspicions. In Watford, however, the whole town opened their hearts to welcome the Battalion, and, in fairness to the troops, it must be recorded that they lived up to that splendid standard expected of them as soldiers and gentlemen.

The stay at Watford was indeed a happy one, and training was carried out in the local parks at Cassiobury and Munden. Each day areas for manœuvres were allotted to the various Battalions of the Brigade, now known as the 2/4th London Infantry Brigade, comprising the second line units of the Kensingtons, London Scottish, Civil Service and Queen’s Westminsters.

Musketry was done at Chalk Hill ranges, a few miles from St. Albans, and by the summer the Battalion was an efficient unit. The earlier heart-burnings of the “fire-eaters” that they would be “too late” were dispersed; the war on the continent had developed into a far greater conflict than many had ever imagined.

In June, 1915, the Battalion, now under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel E. F. Strange, trekked to Saffron Walden, and encamped in Audley End Park. It was a lovely English summer, and all will remember the glorious golden carpet of buttercups in the camp; undoubtedly one of the prettiest camps in England. Being under canvas was a new experience for many, but the Battalion soon settled down to its new life away from the home comforts of Watford.

Here the summer of 1915 was passed. Training on similar lines to that at Watford was continued. Classes were instituted for specialists. Day after day the same routine was pursued, until rumours furnished the only excitement; and such rumours too! Was the Battalion to be kept in England on Home Service? Had the War Office forgotten its existence? Was not the Battalion good enough? Was it to be a draft-finding unit? etc., etc.—such were the questions that resulted from these rumours.

Then came the furnishing of a draft of about 100 strong to the 1st Battalion in France, and this in the minds of many sealed the fate of the Battalion. Never would the 2nd Battalion take its place as a fighting unit in the Great War.

However the horizon brightened, and all those men who had only volunteered for home service were ordered to be transferred to the 3rd line unit. It is not for anyone to comment upon the actions of others; circumstances alter cases, and during the war to act up to the dictates of one’s own conscience was the duty of all. Nevertheless, the departure of the home service contingent was a matter of great relief to the 2nd Battalion. True, many good friends were lost, and many who had striven hard for the efficiency and well-being of the Battalion had to bid farewell; but for those who remained there was that resuscitated feeling that the 2nd Battalion would some day take its proper place in the fight on the continent.

Fresh drafts were received, and a large training company was established where men qualified as trained soldiers and then passed into their respective companies. New N.C.O.’s had to be found, and special classes of instruction were organised, and again the Battalion felt itself to be an independent unit, every one earnest for foreign service.

This history of the Battalion’s doings at Saffron Walden must contain a reference to the two treks, the one to Furneaux Pelham and the other to Braintree and Stebbing. It was during these two expeditions that the 2/15th had their first real taste of campaigning; a day’s marching, an outpost or an attack, then a night in the open, which was the nearest approach to the actual war obtainable in England. From a military point of view the success of these operations was, of course, doubtful; every one had different views, but as a well-known Brigadier always said to the 1st Battalion at the end of a day’s operations, “Shot and shell would tell.” However, there can be no doubt that they proved conclusively that the spirit of the Battalion was right, and that all the inconveniences of treks were taken, by all, as part of the game.

By this time winter was approaching, and the canvas camp at Saffron Walden was becoming a rather cheerless place on wet days. On the 26th October, 1915, the Battalion proceeded by road to billets at Bishop Stortford. The whole of the Brigade was billeted in the area, and memories of the happy days at Watford sprung up. The billets were good, and the local people made the Battalion welcome. It is true many billets were crowded, but the size of the town would not admit of so large a concentration as the Brigade, less the Kensingtons who were billeted in a village a few miles south. The stay, however, was not to be a long one, for no sooner had the central cook-houses, miniature range, etc., been thoroughly established, than orders for a move to Ware were received.

On the 29th of November the Battalion packed up, and after a long march of about sixteen miles arrived at Ware. An earnest welcome was given by the townspeople, and the prospect of Christmas in Ware caused every one to keep a bright look-out for any good things Ware might produce. The officers of the Battalion formed a regimental mess in a large, roomy house at the top of the hill overlooking the town, where most of the officers were billeted. In the same building an excellent dining-room, a smoke-room and a card-room had been arranged, all of which proved to be great boons, more especially as the attractions of Ware in the way of evening entertainments were few.

The local drill hall was taken over as a central place for battalion messing, each company marching from its own area for meals. At Christmas time this hall was used for concerts, and a splendid Battalion dinner was held on Christmas Day. Some of the less fortunate members were, however, detailed at that time for aeroplane guards in the surrounding villages. Ware was on the outer defences of London against air raids, and pickets were arranged in the Ware district, armed with mysterious rockets for the purpose of representing anti-aircraft batteries. However, on no occasion was it necessary to use these alarming fireworks, and in spite of being on duty, these outlying posts are believed to have spent a very jovial Christmas. Leave was freely given, and the proximity of Ware to London was a great advantage, as was proved within a very short time; for on the 22nd January, 1916, the Battalion entrained during the night for Salisbury Plain.

Late in the afternoon of the 23rd, Warminster was reached, and after a march of about four or five miles a city of comfortable looking huts appeared. Their apparent comfort, however, quickly disappeared when the mud of Longbridge Deverill came into evidence. The interior of the huts so recently vacated by a division which had left for France, was little better than the filth outside. However, the Battalion was now becoming accustomed to this kind of thing, and soon settled down. Improvements were made in the camp, and competition between the various units of the Division for the smartest camp was soon astir. The whole Division (now known as the 60th (London) Division) was concentrated between Longbridge Deverill and Sutton Veny. The divisional R.E., A.S.C., R.A.M.C., and R.F.A. appeared in reality, and it was obvious to all that the Battalion was at last part of a real fighting division destined at some time or other to go abroad.

Everything was advancing at a pace, and stores and material were brought up to War Establishment. Training and musketry was being completed, the Regular Army Course having been fired on the local range. Manœuvres by the whole Division became daily routine, and inspections were frequent. Hopes ran high for an early departure for France, when suddenly, on the 28th April, 1916, the Battalion was ordered to proceed to Ireland with the rest of our Brigade.

Political events in Dublin had developed into war during Eastertide, every one was full of the possibility of Dublin; others said that France was the real destination, and the orders for Ireland were mere camouflage to deceive the Hun; while others, less optimistic, imagined a permanent exile in Ireland for the duration of the war.

However, all rumours were soon dispelled during the night of the 29th April, and the Battalion entrained at Warminster bound for Neyland near Pembroke Dock.

The following day was Sunday, and the Battalion spent a beautiful summer day on the grassy slopes facing the sea, awaiting embarkation to an unknown port, while the officers were kindly entertained by the Officers’ Mess of the 4th Welsh Regiment, which was stationed a few miles inland. Late in the evening a large quantity of rations was issued, and the prospect of a long sea journey arose in the minds of most of us. The night, however, was without alarms, and not until the following morning did the Battalion embark. Part of the unit, together with the transport section, sailed on the Archangel, and the remainder on board the Rathmore; both transports leaving the harbour early in the evening.

Here was real adventure at last, sailing to an unknown destination through seas frequented by enemy submarines. At daybreak the coast of Ireland was sighted, and at 4.30 a.m. we were alongside the quays of Queenstown. The disembarkation was without incident beyond the warning that we were now in “enemy” country. We proceeded straightway through the town to Belvelly Camp on Fota Island. No demonstration was made by the Irish people, and no one could understand why they should be regarded with suspicion. Smiles greeted the troops, and the unfortunate Battalion Signalling Officer, who was leading the Battalion on the march, was severely reprimanded by his superior for talking to some charming Irish damsels. The B.S.O. excused himself on the grounds that he was asking the way; a reply which brought forth a still further admonition for “enquiring of the enemy.” The new camp on Fota Island was situated in a beautiful Irish park, the property of Lord Ballymore, and for the next few days the Battalion was engaged on ordinary field training and not a bloodthirsty battle as many had anticipated.

The weather turned wet, and this fact alone appears to be a sufficient reason for the “Staff” to order a move with its consequent discomfort. On the 6th May the Battalion left the camp at Belvelly and proceeded to Ballincorrig via Cork. The march was performed in the rain, though while actually passing through the City of Cork the weather became kinder, and the streets were lined with the citizens, none of whom appeared to be really warlike. The real sensation, however, was an officer of the Munsters who passed the Battalion. He wore a steel helmet, which at that time was unique and rarely seen in the United Kingdom, and the atmosphere of real war conjured up by that single steel helmet somewhat counteracted the peacefulness of Cork. Leaving the town was to leave the finer weather; for the rest of the journey the downpour was terrific, and when the Battalion reached Ballincorrig no one was sorry. The Battalion was housed in the local cavalry barracks, and every one will remember the splendid comradeship of the artillerymen stationed there, who did all they could to attend to the needs of the soaked Battalion. The riding school was full of tired Londoners, but how they welcomed those steaming “dixies” of tea prepared by the barracks cooks. Tiredness soon disappeared, and fraternising was the “order of the night”; officers to the officers’ mess, sergeants to the sergeants’ mess, and men to the canteen. The horrors of the day’s march of 16 miles in the rain were forgotten, and a pleasant evening was spent. A word of thanks is also due to those artillerymen who so kindly took over the Battalion transport on arrival and groomed and fed the horses. Here, indeed, was the brotherly spirit, which existed so strongly in the British Tommy, illustrated.

The next morning the Battalion was astir early, the march was resumed, our destination being Coachford. The journey was shorter, about 12 miles, and the Battalion marched through some of the most beautiful Irish scenery, small villages like Dripsey on the route, with its tiny hovels sheltering animals and fowls in the living rooms, gave us an insight into Irish village life. Coachford, a sleepy little Irish village, was reached in the evening, and tents, which had been conveyed in advance by motor lorries, were soon erected on the local recreation ground, and the Battalion nestled down for the night. The next day the march was continued as far as Macroom, the day was fine and the march fairly short. Early in the afternoon the town of Macroom was reached, and the population turned out to welcome the Battalion. The camping ground was situated on the river banks in the grounds of the ancient castle of Macroom. By evening time the Battalion had settled down and every one hoped for a long stay in this glorious spot. The following day was market day in Macroom, and the town was crowded with people from the surrounding villages and farms; officers and men were allowed in the town, a happy release after the restrictions in existence since our arrival in Ireland. Shops were besieged and luxuries were purchased to supplement the rations of “active service.” Talking of purchases, most members of the Battalion will remember the famous small goat bought by an officer, which although an affectionate animal, became a nuisance by thrusting its vocal efforts upon that tent in any battalion camp which should be approached with bated breath, a salute and the word “Sir.”

Mystery surrounded the first armed party of about 100 strong which left the camp that night under the guidance of the Royal Irish Constabulary. However, the following morning all was common knowledge; a few Irishmen had been arrested, while the farm in which they lived had been surrounded by the troops to prevent escape. These were the “rebels” which the Battalion had set out to quell.

The stay at Macroom only lasted a few days, and the Battalion continued its march inland under the command of Major A. A. Oliver; our Commanding Officer Lieutenant-Colonel Strange having been sent to hospital seriously ill. Only a privileged few knew the day’s destination, but towards dusk the Battalion halted near Mill Street and turned off the main road into a field where tea was soon prepared by the company cooks. No tents on motor lorries were to be seen; a drizzle set in, and every one wondered whether it would mean a night in the wet with only waterproof sheets, which had already done great service throughout the day. Several hours passed, no orders were forthcoming, and every one became pessimistic. Finally, however, an entraining officer was appointed with the usual complement of N.C.O.’s and this ended all discussion. The Battalion was to move off by train. The geography of Ireland had been forgotten since school days and the names of likely places were confined to the Limerick and Dublin areas; however, about midnight the Battalion marched to the station at Mill Street, entrained rapidly and steamed out into the gloom of a wet, misty Irish fog. Tired by the day’s march of 16 miles over the moorlands of the Bochragh Mountains every one slept, and no one troubled about our destination. Great was the surprise, however, the next morning to wake and find that the train had pulled up on Rosslare Pier. France was in every one’s mouth, and then the memory of the Quartermaster Stores and rear details at Warminster dispelled such ideas. The day was spent on the stone pier of the harbour and eventually at 7 p.m. the Battalion set sail on the Connaught, reaching Fishguard after a pleasant crossing of four hours’ duration. Little did one think that within a few weeks the same troopship would convey the Battalion to France. Within an hour of reaching Fishguard the Battalion was entrained and started for Warminster, which was reached about 7 a.m. on the 13th May, 1916. After a short march we arrived back at our old camp at Longbridge Deverill. The visit to Ireland soon appeared like a dream, so sudden and so short had it been. The value of the “Irish stunt,” as it was commonly called, cannot be discounted, even if actual warfare had not been encountered. The Battalion had learnt to entrain and detrain; embark and disembark; and move its home day by day and in general to become a mobile unit. The experience was invaluable.

Back in Warminster the old question cropped up: “When is the Battalion going to France?” The slightest alteration in the daily routine was regarded by the numerous Sherlock Holmes in the Battalion as distinct clues pointing to an early departure for the front. However, signs soon became very real when additional Lewis guns, field dressings, active service pay books, and identity discs, were issued, and soon the Battalion was complete in regard to stores. A final medical examination was held and innoculation and vaccination were soon in full swing. Embarkation leave was granted and one whole day was spent before the camera; photographs of companies, sections and specialists were taken. Every one was hopeful.

On the 31st May, 1916, the whole division was inspected by H.M. The King, and it was a splendid sight to see the troops in review order on the slopes of the Wiltshire Downs. The 60th Division was fit and ready for the front; and on the 21st June, 1916, the final orders were received and the following morning the Battalion, under the Command of Lieutenant-Colonel C. de Putron, entrained at Warminster for Southampton. Many of the townsfolk turned out in the early morning and gave us a hearty send-off.

The following was the list of Officers and Warrant Officers, etc. who left for France:—

Commanding Officer	Lieutenant-Colonel C. de Putron.
Second in Command	Major A. A. Oliver.
Adjutant	Captain A. W. Gaze.
Medical Officer	Captain F. J. Leech, R.A.M.C.
Quarter Master	Lieutenant A. A. Joslin.
Transport Officer	Second-Lieutenant F. T. Bailey.
Lewis Gun Officer	Lieutenant W. S. H. Smith.
Signalling Officer	Lieutenant P. W. Thorogood.

“A” Company: Captain F. F. Tarver, Lieutenants C. H. Rimington and H. F. Rust, Lieutenant B. Peatfield, and Second-Lieutenant L. H. Hart. Company Sergeant Major H. A. Syrad and Company Quartermaster Sergeant J. C. Sale.

“B” Company: Captain C. A. Bailey, Captain A. C. H. Benké, Lieutenant J. H. Randolph, and Second-Lieutenants A. V. James, S. C. Bennett and H. J. Spencer. Company Sergeant Major H. T. Bassett and Company Quartermaster Sergeant W. D. Shanahan.

“C” Company: Major H. F. M. Warne, Captain K. A. Wills, Second-Lieutenants F. J. Smith, E. E. Andrews, F. E. Gearing, and F. W. Westmore. Company Sergeant Major J. S Oldcorn and Company Quartermaster Sergeant A. J. Rodd.

“D” Company: Captain F. R. Radice, Captain K. W. M. Pickthorn, and Second-Lieutenants F. W. Lewis, C. M. Kilner, G. E. Thompson and K. A. Higgs. Company Sergeant Major H. W. Lovelock and Company Quartermaster Sergeant F. King.

Regimental Sergeant Major A. H. Freemantle (Scots Guards).

Regimental Quartermaster Sergeant A. C. Gibson.

CHAPTER XXVIII
FRANCE, 22ND JUNE, 1916, TO 19TH NOVEMBER, 1916—IN THE TRENCHES AT NEUVILLE ST. VAAST—BATTALION RAID—JOURNEY TO MARSEILLES.

The journey to France was without incident; the train from Salisbury Plain arrived at Southampton Docks about midday on the 22nd of June, 1916, and after a few hours on the quayside the Battalion embarked on board H. M. Transport Connaught, the boat which only a few weeks before had brought us over from Ireland. Complimentary messages from the Embarkation Staff on the excellent and business-like behaviour of the Battalion pleased us. At about 10 p.m. we set sail, and the calm sea made the journey comparatively comfortable. True, it was crowded on board, but not to that extent that it reminded one of the proverbial “sardines in a box.” During the morning of the 23rd of June the Battalion set foot on the Continent at Havre. Great excitement prevailed; the novelty of France, the quaint French poilus in their blue service kit; everything, in fact, seemed to belong to that world of dreams that had for so long evaded us; while a group of German prisoners of war on the quayside added spice to our first taste of foreign service. Rain set in, however, and made the short march to the rest camp distinctly unpleasant.

Leave was granted to limited numbers, who immediately availed themselves of the “good things” in the town, and incidentally the opportunity of airing their French, much of which was of the “primer” lesson book type, and was neither greatly appreciated nor understood by the townspeople, who replied in good English. But the French people are so polite that one is encouraged to persevere.

The Battalion retired to their tents for the night, but an early réveillé at 2.30 a.m. reminded every one that they were now on “Active Service,” and soon the whole camp was astir preparing to move. After a wait of many hours the Battalion left (less “B” Company, which moved later in the day) for the station, and were entrained in the famous “8 Chevaux, 40 Hommes” wagons of which we had heard so much. Any discomfort in travelling in these trucks was recompensed by the novelty of our new surroundings. The French people by this time had become serious over the war, and the route was not lined by cheering crowds as had been the case in the earlier days of the war; though the French children on the route still made frequent requests for bully beef, biscuits and cigarettes, in their best “Engleesh.” The journey terminated on the 25th in the St. Pol area, and the Battalion soon marched to its billets in the villages of Penin, Averdoight, and Roellecourt. These were the first billets in France, but every one managed to settle down comfortably whether in a cottage or in a barn. The local “vins rouges et blancs” were sampled, and the 2/15th Londons appreciated the mystic word “estaminet” for the first time. At times the rumble of heavy artillery could be heard in the distance, and this brought home to us the fact that we were nearing the firing line. Orders were received the following day to move forward to Maroeuil, a few miles north of Arras. The Battalion formed up on the high road from Penin, and started off gaily enough on a glorious summer evening. An advanced aerodrome was passed on the way, and the planes in the air, and the observation balloons in the distance, helped to make the first part of the marching interesting. Gradually the night clouds gathered, and a heavy downpour of rain rather “spoilt things.” French “pavé” roads which up to this time had been traversed unnoticed, became torture to tired feet, and troops billeted on the line of march were envied; however, the Battalion plodded along, and by 11 p.m. reached the battered town of Maroeuil, where a few civilians still remained. Not realising that the town was close to the firing line, and under the direct observation of the German lines, the Battalion freely used its hurricane lamps which reflected their rays on the ruined walls of the buildings, and there can be no doubt that the salvos of shells that greeted us on our arrival had been “asked for.”

Only two men were wounded slightly; not forgetting “A” Company’s cooker, which received a direct hit. However, these incidents were quite sufficient to make us realise the unpleasantness of war. Billets were soon found under the able guidance of the “Scotties” of the 51st Division, who apparently knew all the cellars in the town. The Battalion, after having a hot meal, went to bed feeling tired, but many spent a restless night wondering when the next strafe was due. The night was, however, quiet, and the next day, the 27th of June, was spent in finding our way around the town, and investigating the few estaminets which remained open, where we were regaled with the horrible details of war by the men of the 51st Division of Scottish Territorials who were then holding that part of the front line. The following morning the Battalion moved a few miles farther north under the cover of the valley behind the town as far as Bray, which nestled behind the ridge of Mont St. Eloy, and was out of observation by the Bosche. The Battalion was housed in large Army huts, similar to those we had left on Salisbury Plain. Every one was relieved to get away from the dingy cellars of Maroeuil, our unpleasant reception having given most of us a bad taste of the village and its cellars. On the 29th of June, the Battalion left Bray via Maroeuil for the firing line, and by means of deep communication trenches, which had been dug for a distance of four to five miles from the front line system as far back as Maroeuil, the relief was carried out by day. This was a great advantage to the new Battalion as it became accustomed to that weird feeling of being in a trench, before the night fell and obliterated all.

The surrounding country was covered with red poppies, and the setting sun shone gloriously on this carpet of colour. On the way ruined farms were seen at points of vantage, and near the main road from Arras to Souchez, with its avenue of trees destroyed by shell fire, we passed the famous Maison Blanche, a deep dug-out, large enough to hold a battalion. In nearly every depression in the ground were cleverly camouflaged battery positions, the sight of which encouraged us in our new venture. After a long march through communication trenches the reserve line of the Elbe shelters in a sunken road was reached, and companies were distributed in the support and reserve areas for the night. Seven days after leaving England the Battalion was in the firing line. During the night of the 29th of June, the Bosche raided the trenches of the “Black Watch” in the front line, and many of the Battalion who got mixed up in the “Box” barrage will never forget the terrific local bombardment which lasted for some twenty minutes. The Battalion was fortunate and sustained no loss, but the “Black Watch” unfortunately lost about ten men killed and missing, while others were wounded. For the next few days the Battalion was held in support and reserve, and tours of duty in the front line were made by officers and N.C.O.’s, under the instruction of the “Black Watch.” Dug-out life was studied, and every one became acquainted with the new routine. The Battalion soon acquired the attitude of the “man in the line,” and very many thanks are due to those battalions of the Scottish Division which so kindly assisted us to pick up the threads of trench life. On the 2nd of July, 1916, the Battalion took over the front line, and became responsible for that part just north of Roclincourt, and in front of Neuville St. Vaast. The weather was unkind, rain made the trenches extremely unpleasant, and together with the constant salvos of enemy trench mortars known as “Grey Pigeons,” “Lead Pencils,” “Oilcans,” and so on, according to their various shapes and sizes, those first few nights in the line proved rather trying to the Battalion of novices. Casualties were few, and the men soon learnt the “unhealthy” spots in the line, and avoided them whenever possible. This section of the front which was adjacent to the “Labyrinth” had been held by the French during the earlier stages of the war, and sad and gruesome relics of the heavy fighting by our gallant Allies were numerous in the trenches. The Battalion set to work, and did a great deal to improve them, though our work was constantly being destroyed by the intermittent bombardment of the enemy’s trench mortars and minenwerfers. Wiring along the front was improved, and patrols were sent out each night into “No Man’s Land,” although the proximity of the Bosche did not allow much latitude in this respect. At this time the great Somme Offensive had commenced, and the heavy artillery fire farther south could be distinctly heard; and although the 2/15th Londons had not participated in the actual fight, there was a great consolation in the fact that the Battalion was at last holding part of the line, thereby releasing more seasoned troops for the offensive and at the same time preparing themselves for their turn when it should come.

The insertion of a sketch of this sector might prove interesting at this point, for it was here that the Battalion was destined to spend its stay in France.

The front held by the 179th Brigade was from the Stone Communication Trench on the north to the Victoire Communication Trench on the south, about 2,500 yards in all. Two battalions held the front lines, a third battalion forming the supports and reserves, while the fourth battalion of the Brigade was out at rest at Bray. The 2/15th always occupied the right sub-sector of the Brigade front being relieved by the 2/14th (London Scottish); while the 2/13th and the 2/16th Battalions shared the responsibility of the left sub-sector.

The right sub-sector in which the Battalion was located ran from the Vissec Communication Trench to the Victoire, on the right flank.

This sub-sector was again divided into three company fronts as follows:—

(1) Vissec C.T. to Bentata C.T.

(2) Biras Sap to Point ‘D.’

(3) Point ‘D’ to Bonnell Avenue at Point ‘A.’

The front line proper ran along the Doublement, MacIntyre Street, across Argyle Street to Bonnell Avenue. The support line ran parallel to the front line at distances varying from 70 yards to 150 yards at the different places, while between the front line and the support line an intermediate line, chiefly occupied by machine guns and trench mortars, had been constructed. Forward of the front line an observation line had been dug, and in the centre of the Battalion front a strong redoubt known as the Paris Redoubt had been constructed. From the front line system connection with the rear was maintained by four arterial communication trenches, the Vissec, Claudot, Douai, and de la Vase. Many minor trenches made the whole system a perfect maze, and many disused trenches added to the difficulties of the network.

Rough Sketch Map
Showing Trenches at
“Neuville st Vaast”
Also
Sketch of the
Neuville st Area.
Scale ½" = 100 Yds.

Three companies of the Battalion held the front line while the fourth company was in support on the right flank; the left flank support being furnished by the third battalion in the Brigade. While holding the line, Battalion Headquarters were situated in the Elbe Shelters, but when the line was handed over, and the Battalion had become support or third battalion of the Brigade, Battalion Headquarters transferred their activities to Maison Blanche.

On the 5th of July the Battalion were taken out of the line for a “rest,” but the word proved a misnomer. The Battalion was taken back as far as the Aux Rietz Cave in rear of Neuville St. Vaast and La Targette. Three companies were located in the cave, while “A” Company were billeted in dug-outs near La Targette. In the front line the Battalion had the good fortune to be housed in excellent dug-outs bequeathed to us by the French, but in no place on the whole British front could have been more secure from air-raids and shell fire than the Aux Rietz Cave.

Down wooden steps for over a hundred feet the weary infantrymen stumbled, and finally a wonderful underground world presented itself. A large cave capable of holding a thousand men, with hundreds of small candles lighting its sombre darkness, was the new home of the Battalion. Down here cook-houses were established, and all were able to roam about free from bombs, shells and bullets. A hot meal was soon prepared, and the weary Tommies soon fell asleep, in spite of the great heat and oppressive “fugginess” of their underground dwelling. The Battalion had not, however, escaped all the horrors of war, for the orderly sergeants of companies soon appeared and detailed numerous working parties, which were sent up the line that same evening to furnish Royal Engineer mining fatigues. Within a few hours most of the Battalion was retracing its steps through miles of trenches, knee deep in mud and water, to the front line, and after about six or eight hours strenuous work lifting and carrying heavy sandbags full of clay, they returned to the cave at Aux Rietz. A few hours’ respite was granted, and then the working parties were again paraded for another tour of duty with the Royal Engineer sappers. In fact, for several days it was a constant procession day and night of weary working parties leaving and returning to the cave. No one grumbled at the actual work with the Royal Engineers, but the long journey to and from the line provided sufficient for a “grouse”; every one longed for the front line again. The desire was quickly granted, and the Battalion were soon back in the trenches, and not until the 4th of August was it relieved. During this long stay in the line the Battalion became “old soldiers.” The cook-houses in the Elbe Shelter were thoroughly organised, and provided a hot meal each day to the men and a cup of hot cocoa each morning at “stand down.” The daily post and canteen stores came up with the rations each night, having been brought as far as Battalion Headquarters by the transport and Quartermaster’s staff; from which point company ration parties carried them to the front line. Specialists such as signallers, snipers, and bombers, overcame the various difficulties of their work. Every man learnt the way round his own particular sector; names of trenches, saps and craters became familiar, in fact the whole place became “a home from home.” Friends were made with the artillery forward observation officers and men, and the tunnellers on our front became companions in distress. A great deal of mining was carried on in this part of the British front, and our tunnellers were extremely busy combating the activities of the Bosche, and many restless nights were spent wondering whether the constant tapping underground was that of friend or foe.

Casualties were fortunately not very heavy, although one recollects with sadness such incidents as the dug-out in Argyle Street being blown in, burying Sergeant Wigney and his gallant fellows, but on the whole the Battalion had been lucky.

On the 4th of August the Battalion was relieved and marched back to Bray, this time for a real rest. The Quartermaster’s staff had prepared a hot meal, and after this repast was finished every one settled down for a well-earned rest away from the continual noise of the front line. The next few days were spent in cleaning up, replacing damaged equipment and boots, writing letters (not forgetting the censoring) and attending sundry parades. Dinners and suppers of varying degree were held either in the huts or in the local estaminets, and every one appreciated the restful green fields and shady trees near Bray, which had not been destroyed by the ravages of war. Entertainment was provided at Acq by the Divisional concert party, and our own Battalion concert party, “The Plumes” of Warminster days was resuscitated in an endeavour to add to the gaiety of life. On the 9th of August His Majesty the King visited the observation posts at Mont St. Eloy near by, and many of the Battalion were privileged to line the route and cheer His Majesty who was accompanied by His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales (our Honorary Colonel) and the Commander-in-Chief, Sir Douglas Haig.

On the 12th of August, after a week’s rest, the Battalion again proceeded to the line, and the old life amid the constant “strafes” of the Hun was resumed. Reliefs between companies were carried out with precision, and various fatigue parties, sap guards, gas guards, patrols and wiring parties kept every one busy. Parties of officers and N.C.O.’s spent a few days with the artillery batteries for the purpose of instruction. Nothing of importance, however, marked this tour in the line, and on the 1st September the Battalion was relieved and marched back to the huts at Bray.

On the 6th of September, we were again ordered up to the trenches. This tour of duty was to be one of importance. A mysterious section of two officers and twenty men were left behind to train for a raid on the Hun lines. The party was under the command of Lieutenant B. Peatfield, with Second Lieutenant G. E. Thompson as his second in command. The raid was of considerable importance as information of the exact disposition of the enemy was urgently required at General Headquarters in order to ascertain which German Divisions had been withdrawn from the heavy fighting on the Somme. The raiding party were trained over a facsimile of the actual ground over which they were to raid which had been dug near Divisional Headquarters. When the party arrived at the trenches on the 10th of September, excitement in the Battalion ran high. The raiders, all of whom were volunteers, were located in a small dug-out in the Paris Redoubt, and made preparations for the show. Unfortunately Private Rule, “B” Company, one of the party, was killed by a trench mortar shell that afternoon, but undaunted the remainder looked forward to the adventure. The raid was to be launched from the Paris Redoubt on the night of the 11th September, and was to be supported by covering fire from our trench mortars and machine guns while the artillery assisted the operation with a heavy local “box” barrage. Early in the evening all the officers concerned in the raid gathered together at Battalion Headquarters in the Elbe, and final instructions were issued, and watches were synchronised. Just as this party came out of the dug-out a salvo of shells arrived and caused great consternation, but no casualties occurred. That evening all sap guards were strengthened, and in the middle of the night every one “stood to,” when suddenly the barrage from our lines burst forth with a terrific crash, and the raiding party with its blackened faces sallied forth. No one but those who actually took part in the raid can describe the inferno which reigned for the next few minutes. The Hun soon sent up his S.O.S. signals and retaliatory fire opened up, but most of this fell in the “D” Company area on the left flank of the operation, where two lamps had been specially erected to mislead the enemy as to the actual part of the line from which the raid had started. Shortly afterwards the success of the raid was wired to all companies, and a sense of relief overwhelmed the Battalion. Apparently our fellows had followed closely to the creeping barrage of our trench mortars and had entered the Hun trench, killing or wounding the occupants, and bringing back a few prisoners. Luckily none of our men were killed although wounds were numerous among the raiders, and unfortunately Private J. F. Small of “B” Company succumbed later to his severe injuries. Both officers had been badly wounded but stuck to their job, and inspired the men by their example. Second Lieutenant G. E. Thompson, together with Private A. Small, returning to the Hun trench to rescue the latter’s brother who was found to be missing at the first roll call.

Valuable information had been obtained, and only the death of Private J. F. Small, who had been so gallantly rescued, marred the operation. Credit must be given to the artillery, machine gunners, and trench mortar batteries who so ably assisted in making the raid a success.

The raid placed the Battalion on a high footing, and great credit is due to all concerned.

On the 25th of September, the Battalion was relieved, and although nothing of importance happened after the raid, for many nights afterwards we expected a return visit from the enemy.

The return to Bray was accompanied by the usual luxuries of baths at Maroeuil, the concerts at Acq, and the refreshments of the local estaminets. On the 26th, ribbons were presented by the Divisional General to those members of the raiding party who had escaped unwounded; while on the following day the Corps Commander, Lieutenant-General Sir Charles Fergusson, K.C.B., inspected the Battalion. A few days afterwards, on the 30th September, orders to return to the line were received, and the march was accomplished without loss, although the enemy artillery was active on the roads leading up to the trenches. Nearing the line a great activity on the part of the enemy machine gunners and snipers was noticed, and it was learnt that during the night the Germans had exploded two large mines on our front near the Claudot Sap. The London Scottish were holding that sector of the line that night, and it is to their great credit that the Hun made no inroads on our front. How great a fight they had made was best judged from the heavy casualties they had sustained. “D” Company of the 2/15th relieved this part of the front, and by dint of hard digging under considerable fire soon consolidated the new craters, and linked them up by saps with the observation line. Days of comparative quiet ensued, although at this time the enemy commenced to use large trench mortar shells standing some thirty-six inches high, with a diameter of ten or twelve inches. As a retaliation for this unwelcome increase in the size of missiles a deep emplacement was made in rear of “D” company’s sector in the Bessan Redoubt, and in it was placed a very heavy type of British Trench Mortar, having a projectile of similar proportions to those introduced by the Bosche. This shell was nicknamed the “Flying Pig,” and to fire it was only an experiment, so all the men in the trenches in advance of the emplacement were temporarily withdrawn lest the shell should accidentally fall short. The test was successful, and large craters about ten feet deep, and twenty yards wide were made in the Hun lines. However, the experiment was not taken by the Hun in the right spirit, and retaliation on his part for the next few days was very brisk. A strafe of shells from guns and minenwerfers of all calibres was poured on to the unoffending infantrymen’s heads. Dug-outs were blown up, but the resultant casualties were small. “D” Company’s headquarters dug-out was destroyed, and the signallers were entombed, but several hours work got them out, and they were rescued little the worse for their experience.

After these few days of continual bombardment a sigh of relief was breathed when the Canadian Division much depleted in numbers through heavy fighting on the Somme, marched up to take over the trenches at Neuville St. Vaast, and the Battalion left this sector for the last time.

Rumours of transferring our activities to the Somme were soon afoot, and after a few days rest at Bray, the Battalion made tracks for the Abbeville area via Hermaville, Frevent, Auxi-le-Château, and Beauvoir Rivière. Each night billets were arranged in the villages en route, and pleasant evenings in the local estaminets were spent after the day’s march. The weather was only moderate but the Battalion was well seasoned by now, and cared little for the discomfort of the trek after its long stay in the trenches. The Battalion finally halted at Francière a few kilometres south of Abbeville, and leave to England was granted to a privileged few. Preparations for a journey to the East were made, and these soon dispelled all rumours of fighting on the Somme.

On the morning of the 15th of November, the Battalion marched to Longpres and entrained on the familiar “8 Chevaux et 40 Hommes” troop train bound for Marseilles, leaving Longpres at 4.0 p.m. The journey to the south of France was most enjoyable, and the route taken was via Montreau, Dijon, Macon, Pierre Latte to Marseilles. At each of these places a halt was made when rations for the next stage of the journey were drawn, and hot tea prepared by permanent staffs stationed on the route was issued. Although halts sometimes were made in the middle of the night, most men were lured from their uncomfortable beds in spite of the cold nights to drink the hot tea.

The weather though cold was bright, and while daylight lasted everyone drank in the beauty of the French scenery, especially while passing along the valley of the Rhone, with its wonderful river scenes and terraced vineyards, which clothed the rugged slopes of the valley. Marseilles was reached on the 17th of November, after a journey of just over two days, and the Battalion marched to the Rest Camp on the western outskirts of the city. Here it poured constantly, and the whole camp was a veritable quagmire; fortunately the stay was a short one, for on the 19th November, 1916, half the Battalion marched to the Docks, and boarded the Transylvania, one of the large Transatlantic liners, at 11.0 a.m., bound for Salonica, while the other half followed in the Megantic, a week later.

CHAPTER XXIX
THE VOYAGE TO SALONICA—MALTA—SALONICA, 30TH NOVEMBER, 1916—JOURNEY TO KATERINA—OUTPOSTS AT STIPI.

H.M. Troopship Transylvania, which was unfortunately sunk by torpedo a few weeks later, set sail from Marseilles at midnight on the 19th November. A rough sea was encountered, and it was afterwards learnt that a tidal wave had swept over the harbour that night, destroying a great amount of shipping. The next day all was calm, and the officers and men of the Battalion became accustomed to their new surroundings, and acquainted with the interior of this huge vessel. Boat drill was the novelty, but even this soon became a “bore,” and after the first few parades everybody looked upon the compulsory life-belt attached to one’s body as a millstone, rather than the reverse. On the 20th, the islands of Corsica and Sardinia were passed about 4 p.m., and on the following day the vessel steamed along the north coast of Africa. During these days the calm Mediterranean lulled all into a sense of peace and security, and only when the three blasts of the ship’s syren disturbed the quietness and everyone bustled to their boat stations did one realise the possibility of enemy submarines spoiling the trip. It is said that R.S.M. Freemantle gained a handsome monetary reward for spotting a submarine, but the fact that only the R.S.M. saw it causes doubts in many minds. Regardless of any submarine reported to have been seen by the R.S.M., the Transylvania was ordered by its escort of torpedo boat destroyers to put into St. Paul’s Bay, Malta, on the morning of the 22nd November, and about midday on the 24th, the liner proceeded into the harbour of Valetta. This harbour is one of the most wonderful in the world, and has a very narrow, heavily fortified entrance leading from the outer bay to the inner harbour, which was full of shipping, while men-o’-war of all classes were constantly passing in and out. The town itself is on the high ground around, and was glistening white under the hot sun of the Mediterranean, which poured down its rays from a cloudless blue sky. During the night of the 24th, a slight mishap occurred to the Transylvania and she broke from her moorings, but the Battalion slept on under the protection of the submarine-forbidden harbour, unaware of any possible disaster. It was not until the 27th that the word to proceed was given by the Naval authorities, and a few days’ stay at Valetta had been thoroughly enjoyed by those members of the Battalion (officers and N.C.O.’s only, I am afraid), who were permitted ashore. A route march through the town had been arranged for the troops, but unfortunately this had to be cancelled on the receipt of orders to sail.

The journey was continued from Malta without event, and on the 29th November we passed the islands of the Greek Archipelago, the names of which were always in dispute and finally were dubbed with nicknames such as Enos, Kolynos, Thermos, Chaos, and so on. When nearing Salonica several hospital ships, which had been ruthlessly torpedoed, were just visible above the water where they had been beached. The next day, the 30th, the harbour of Salonica was reached, and the Battalion disembarked on the quay during the morning. From the harbour the town of Salonica looked very fine, and extends from the green slopes of the hills on the east along a flat stretch of some five miles to the low dismal country at the foot of the Greek mountains. The town is dotted with mosques and oriental churches, and the famous White Tower on the promenade forms a striking contrast to the low shops and hotels which line the harbour front. However, all this apparent beauty was soon dispelled, and the mud and smell of even the main thoroughfares was simply indescribable. On the quayside hundreds of troops, French, Serbians, Russians and Greeks, were shouting and making the harbour a babel of foreign tongues. The route taken by the Battalion lay through the western end of the town, and the curious shops with their gaily-dressed, though ragged, merchants caused much comment among the troops. Slow, lumbering oxen wagons formed the local method of transport, and these, intermixed with the heavy army motor lorries, caused considerable congestion. After the jumble of traffic through streets a foot deep in mud and filth, the Battalion was relieved to strike the main high road for Dudular. All along this road were signs of military activity; ordnance stores, A.S.C. dumps, motor lorry parks, and ammunition depots lined the route, and a few miles from the town the Battalion passed two extensive canvas general hospitals. Through this military city, which had sprung up with mushroom-like growth during the war, a railway had been built, and it struck one as being extremely humorous to see a green engine with L.S.W.R. in golden letters on its side puffing along under the control of the R.E. drivers. What visions of Waterloo and leave trains! This line was continued as far as Monastir, and troop trains of French and Serbians constantly passed up and down. The camp was finally reached after a march of about eight miles, and was situated on barren, desolate ground, which extended from a chain of hills to the marshes along the Salonica-Monastir Road. On this plain the whole Division was concentrated under a huge canvas camp. The ground was rough, uneven, stony and cut by numerous “nullahs.” Every one pitched his tent wherever the geographical and geological conditions permitted, and it is regretted that the beautiful straight lines of tents that distinguished our camp at Saffron Walden were no longer to be seen. Natives wandered around the camp and were promptly dubbed “hoojahs,” a word which was attached to all things Greek for want of a better descriptive word. These natives presumably desired to sell their fruits and wares, but judging by their mixed uniform of khaki and native garb it was doubtful whether “scroungeing” was not their real intention. On the few more level spots that were available football commenced, and for the first few days life was enjoyable. Letters were again allowed, and in spite of drills and parades it was a most restful time by day. Night time, however, was disturbed by the inroads upon the tired flesh of the troops by numerous “minor horrors of war,” which had been encouraged to life by the blankets and conditions generally on board the transport ship. Changes of underclothes were issued and washing in the muddy streams somewhat arrested the unpleasantness. This period was a particularly busy one for the Quartermaster’s Stores, and stores and equipment peculiar to the East were issued, among which were bivouac sheets. Each man having been presented, gratis by the thoughtful authorities, with a small khaki canvas sheet about a yard square, together with a pole 2 feet 6 inches long, two tent pegs and a piece of stout cord, bivouac parades were instituted. The erection of a bivouac was not an easy matter on such stony ground, and even when erected (sometimes by the aid of bayonets and entrenching tools, the use of which was soon forbidden) the open end provided little comfort from the cold winds which blew from the hills at night. To add to this discomfort, heavy torrential rains poured down on the 8th December, and bivouacs fell down on their occupants during the night with alarming rapidity, even the bell tents which remained were rooted from their moorings, and an unpleasant night was spent. The ground soon became a quagmire, and in the nullahs streams of brown, muddy water rushed along. The colour of the water used for cooking and making tea was of the same delightful solidity, and there was little difference between the tea before and after brewing. However, the weather improved slightly, and the next item of interest was the arrival of over 100 mules for the transport section, “straight from the nest” as it were, and with no decorous idea of military discipline. The Quartermaster’s Stores was full of pack saddlery absolutely new, slippery and unpliable, and the following day “Bill Bailey’s Circus” was in full swing. The transport section, under Second Lieutenant F. T. Bailey, was supplemented by fatigue parties from the Battalion, until each mule had nearly a dozen attendants, all of whom were absolutely necessary. The mules were then dressed in their new kit by the untiring energies of the transport section and their co-opted fatigues and paraded for the Commanding Officer’s inspection. This, however, did not last for many minutes; objections were raised, not forgetting the hind legs, by the four-footed members of the transport, and “saddles reversed” was soon performed. It was infectious, and half the animals soon left the arena with kits incomplete, or at least in quite the wrong places on their bodies. Finally the parade, or rather what was left, was dismissed, and then followed the counting of the mules, several of which had escaped. This, however, did not disturb the Transport Officer, he calmly remarking, “They will turn up at feeding time.” The next morning a recount was made, and apparently the mules had decided with which Regiment in the Brigade they would be billeted. Exchanges were made and, needless to say, the receiver was never the chooser. On the following day, after another wet night when the mule lines had become a horrible mixture of muddy transport men, mules and saddlery, the Battalion, complete with transport, was ordered to parade for a route march, apparently not so much for the benefit of the troops, but as a test for the endurance of “Bill Bailey’s Circus.” The mules were “dressed up” and the saddles loaded with panniers, etc., and after a considerable delay the Battalion started along the road. A few paces was sufficient to bring about a debacle in the column; packs slipped, and the men were detailed to fall out and reload the mules. Every yard of the route was strewn with loads of all descriptions, many of which had, no doubt, been unevenly weighted. The plain was dotted with muleteers chasing after mutinous mules which had dispensed with their encumbrances and taken flight. How many mules finished the march is not recorded, but sufficient to say the march proved amusing if nothing else. The next few days were spent in scraping mud and salving blankets, waterproof sheets, equipment and saddlery, which had been mislaid in the mud that followed the heavy rain each night. On the Sunday, 10th December, a Brigade route march was ordered, and we were inspected by our new Brigadier, General F. M. Edwards, C.M.G., who had taken the place of Brigadier-General Baird, who had remained in France.

The same afternoon secret orders were received, and by midnight the Battalion, less its transport, was marching to Salonica Docks. After a few hours’ wait on the quayside, the Battalion embarked on board H.M. torpedo boat destroyer Mosquito, and set sail for somewhere in Greece. Accommodation was very limited, and the black smoke from the funnels of the boat soon covered every one with soot. The officers and crew of the destroyer did all in their power to secure the maximum amount of comfort for the troops, and the whole of the Battalion officers were given an excellent breakfast in the small ward room. During the afternoon the Greek coast was approached, and in the distance we could see the snow clad peaks of the Olympus group. The destroyer anchored a few hundred yards from land, and parties of the Battalion were sent ashore in the small boats. Great credit is due to the Naval folk for their handling of these boats, and, with the exception of a few hasty members who jumped ashore out of the boats too soon, no mishap occurred, and with a cheer from both arms of the Service the destroyer left for sea. The Battalion lined up on the beach at a place called Scala Vromeris. The weather was glorious and the wet clothes of the unfortunates were soon dried. Small fires were made on the beach and a frugal meal was partaken. Scala Vromeris consisted of a few wooden huts, and apparently was the “port,” or rather the landing place, of the town of Katerina, which lay a few miles inland. Only a few Greeks were in occupation, and a large party of Maltese, working under some French soldiers, were housed in the small huts. Orders were received to march inland, leaving a rear party of about 50 men to await the arrival of stores from Salonica. The march was along a genuine “Greek” road, the chief constituents of which were mud, holes, ruts and large stones, but the route was without steep gradients, and the town of Katerina was reached early in the evening. This was a typical Grecian country town, and the natives thronged the streets half in fear and half in jubilation on the arrival of the troops. On the further side of the town was a large Turkish barracks, and here the Battalion was billeted. Men soon made purchases at the shops of very inferior tasteless cigarettes, but nuts and fruit were of excellent quality, though the prices were somewhat exorbitant. A party of officers found their way into a “café,” but when one realises that the plates were returned three times to the washer-up before they could be accepted for eating purposes, the quality of this “café” can be better appreciated. Like the rest of the town and its people it was extremely filthy.

The next day was spent in cleaning up the barracks, which afterwards reached a state of comparative comfort in spite of the broken windows and damaged floors. The day was peaceful enough, but when the day’s rations of bully beef and biscuits had been eaten every one wondered where the next meal was coming from. Neither the stores from Scala Vromeris nor the Battalion transport had yet arrived. The town itself had been practically exhausted of its eatables, and finally the question was settled by means of “local purchase.” A flock of sheep was bought by the Brigade, and mutton was issued to the men, but even fresh killed mutton stewed in mess-tins does not make a very substantial day’s feed for hungry troops. The Battalion, however, managed to “scrounge,” and a few additions were obtained privately from a French Quartermaster’s stores located in one part of the barracks, and these helped to eke out the meagre rations. It was a couple of days afterwards before the Battalion transport, which had taken an overland route from Salonica, arrived, and stores also arrived from the shore, though in the meantime it had been necessary to eat our “iron rations.” Both the transport and the stores’ escort had their special adventures.

At Salonica the Battalion stores had been loaded on flat lighters, which had proceeded to Scala Vromeris in tow of tugs. Heavy seas were encountered and many of the lighters broke loose and some drifted back to Salonica, while others, with half their cargo washed overboard, fought their way to Scala Vromeris. Those that landed back at Salonica proceeded under better conditions a day or so later, and on arrival were soon unloaded by the fatigue party we had left on the sea-shore. Much, however, was lost at sea, including officers’ valises, mess boxes, cooks’ gear, spare saddlery, Lewis gun panniers, ammunition, blankets, etc., but what remained was carted from the shore to Katerina by the aid of local ox-waggons, which lumbered along at a snail’s pace.

The Battalion transport, which had travelled overland from Dudular Camp near Salonica, left there the same evening as the Battalion, and had been brigaded with the transport of the other units in the 179th Brigade, and had been escorted on the route by mounted troops. The journey was not a happy one, and they had only moved at night for purposes of secrecy. This fact alone made travelling difficult, but the wet weather multiplied their troubles threefold. The roads were heavy and badly made, mere tracks across waste land, and maps were indistinct and even incorrect. Many of these tracks were built up above the level of the surrounding country, and so heavy were the floods that the water covered these roadways, and frequently pairs of mules were struggling in the water at the roadside sometimes five feet deep. When the catastrophes happened there was nothing to be done but to cut off the load and give it a watery grave; no attempt to salve them was possible or even desirable in the darkness. On one of these occasions, when mules and muleteer were thrown into the deeper water, an artillery officer, at great personal risk, dived in and saved the mule driver’s life, and Private Phillips, of our own transport section, was highly commended for his assistance, while the officer later received the Silver Medal of the Royal Humane Society for saving life. However, all is well that ends well, and the various parties of the Battalion which had set out from Salonica by different routes reunited at Katerina, but as a result of their respective adventures huge deficiency lists were prepared. For the next week the whole Battalion was employed on road making, and other Battalions assisted the R.E. parties to repair the embankment of the coastal railway from Salonica to Lharrisa, which had been washed away in many places. It was not long afterwards that the deserted railway station we had passed on the way from the coast became a centre of activity. Ration trains arrived daily from Salonica, and a large dump of stores and ammunition was formed at Katerina Station. The Army Service Corps and Royal Engineers did great work, and soon rations, letters, and stores appeared with unfailing regularity from the Base. The Brigade soon established itself comfortably at Katerina, and even the local residents appreciated the situation and replenished their stores with foodstuffs, wines and cigarettes.

A word must also be said in praise of the N.C.O.’s and men of the French contingent in this area. They did all they could to welcome the Britishers, and dinner parties were held nightly in the Turkish barracks in our honour, probably to the detriment of the French ration supply, but that was beside the point; “a short life and a gay one” was their motto. After dinner, songs in English and French were sung, toasts were drunk and friendships made. These convivial evenings will live long in the minds of those who participated.

On the 20th December, 1916, the Battalion marched out to Stipi, a few miles south of Katerina, to take over an outpost line which had been held by the Queen’s Westminsters since our arrival in this part of Greece. The march was over rough country, and the additional kit in the shape of bivouac sheets, waterproofs, blankets, winter clothing and cardigans, extra bandoliers of ammunition fairly broke the backs of the men.

“A,” “C” and “D” Companies relieved the outpost line, and “B” Company, with Headquarters, Transport, and Quartermaster’s Stores were kept in reserve. The outpost line was along the low ridge of hills which ran from Stipi to Kundariotisa, and strict orders were issued that no movement on the skyline should be made by day. Bivouac camps were therefore erected on the reverse or northern slopes which ran down to the grassy valley of the River Mavourneri. From the southern slopes of this ridge the panorama was wonderful, a flat stretch of country for some twenty miles could be seen in the direction of Lharrisa, so that observation from the defences was perfect. On the further side of the plain rose the gigantic chain of snow-capped peaks, of which Mount Olympus formed a massive centrepiece. This mountain wall cut off the Katerina area from the rest of Southern Greece. Only by way of the narrow seashore plain and through the famous Petras Pass on the west of Katerina could the south be reached. At this time the attitude of Greece towards the Allies was questionable, and the position taken up by the Brigade was to secure the base at Salonica from any attack that might have been made from the south.

The Battalion employed itself now in commencing to dig a defensive line on the southern slopes of the ridge, and trench-digging in this part of the world was extremely laborious, as the ground was practically solid rock.

Barbed wire was not obtainable, and for the purpose of obstacles thick zarebas of short, stiff, prickly thorn bushes which covered the hill-side were used for entanglements. In our spare time football was played, and platoon and company competitions were soon in full swing. A splendid flat field had been cleared near the river bank, and was the scene of many exciting struggles. Christmas was approaching, and funds were collected for additional luxuries. The canteen opened by Brigade at Katerina was insufficient to supply the extra needs for the festive season, and Lieutenant Andrew and an able assistant were sent to Salonica by rail, where a Base Canteen was successfully attacked, and on Christmas Eve large supplies of Christmas goods arrived; not so much in quantity as we should have liked, but considering the difficulties of transport, Lieutenant Andrew was to be congratulated. Chicken and eggs were purchased from the local villages of Stipi and Kundariotisa, and altogether a happy Christmas was spent in the bivouacs. Christmas decorations were numerous and consisted chiefly of grey-back shirts and underclothing which had become unpleasant to wear and decked the surrounding thorn bushes.

The festival of Christmas was celebrated by the local residents, and I had the pleasure of accompanying the Commanding Officer to the village of Stipi, where the chief man of the village bade us enter his house. Here we were ushered into the best room and seated on mats on the floor while the daughters of the house, in gay dresses, waited upon us, bringing in coffee, aniseed liqueur and apple jelly as refreshments. Conversation was carried on through the medium of the heir to the house, who had picked up a smattering of French in Salonica, where he was employed.

For the men sing-songs were arranged and sports were held, but the festivities of Christmas soon ceased, and the work on the trenches was resumed. New Year celebrations were limited to an excellent concert given in the Turkish barracks at Katerina by the French soldiers, and those who were privileged to attend thoroughly enjoyed their efforts.

The weather continued fairly fine, though spells of heavy rain, and sometimes snow, fell, making life in small canvas “bivvies” rather miserable. The Battalion remained on this outpost line for just over six weeks, during which time a strong defensive line facing Lharrisa had been built, and this was continued to the coast on the left flank by a series of strong points built and manned by the Westminsters. Road making and bridge building were carried on by the reserve Company, and I am sure the local Greeks must have appreciated our efforts, which resulted in the many military roads connecting Katerina with the surrounding villages. Occasionally field days were held by the Brigade, the rendezvous always being the Tumulus, which was an ever-present landmark for miles around our position. Kit inspections were frequent, and the losses of equipment, etc., resulting from our journey from Salonica led to lengthy sittings of a Board of Enquiry, and consequently many entries were made in pay books for loss of kit. In our spare time we played football after the day’s work, and keen competitions between platoons and companies resulted. Matches were arranged with the other Regiments in the Brigade, in which the Civil Service came through with considerable credit. For the benefit of officers a riding class, under the Medical Officer, Dr. J. W. Leech (John Willie to all his friends) was instituted, and the quality of riding in the Battalion greatly improved. While referring to John Willie’s equestrian ability, one must not overlook his medical skill. His sick parade each morning was divided into two classes; one from the Battalion and the other from the local villages, which brought their sick for attention. Frequently the Doctor was called out to a village to attend an invalid, and among the natives his skill was considered wonderful; not that I infer the Battalion did not appreciate his efforts, for his droll manner and Irish humour were characteristics we all loved, and his attention to all ranks was without fault. The only difference was that the natives presented him with fowls, fruit and small gifts, whereas the unfortunate recipient of a No. 9 offered his thanks in words alone. When a man was beyond the curative powers of a No. 9 or its brother pills he was transferred to the Field Ambulance, which had been established at Katerina. The country around was rough, and was only traversed by mule tracks, so that it was impossible to bring motor ambulances up as far as the Regimental Aid Post. The lying cases were, therefore, taken to hospital by means of a strange vehicle drawn by a mule. This vehicle simply consisted of two long poles some twenty feet in length which were attached to the mule after the manner of shafts, while the ends dragged on the ground behind the mule. These two poles were secured to each other in rear of the mule, and the stretcher was fixed resting between the poles, so that the patient’s head was higher than his feet. Whether this was a comfortable means of transit must be left to the judgment of the victims, but undoubtedly it was the most suitable means in those parts.

No mention hitherto has been made of “Peter,” who was appointed Battalion interpreter. He was an undersized Greek, who loved the Regiment, and no doubt worked very hard in the “Grecian way,” and although no one understood his parleys with the local natives when we wished to dig up their land for trenches, it is believed that he coerced them by the authority given to him by the wearing of the Prince of Wales’s feather in his cap. He loved the Battalion better than his countrymen.

About the middle of February the Battalion left the outpost line at Stipi, and two Companies, “A” and “B” proceeded to Katerina barracks together with Headquarters Company, Transport, and Quartermaster’s Stores. The other two Companies, under the command of Major A. A. Oliver, moved to Kolukuri, a few miles west of Katerina, and erected their bivouacs in Shrine Woods. Here a flank defensive line was held by night posts. From the 15th of February until the 28th the Battalion remained in these stations, and the only excitement which broke the monotony of the life was the visit of a strange aeroplane, which flew over the square at Katerina barracks. No one understood its mission and gazed at it curiously, for underneath its wings were two large blue crosses and not the black Maltese cross used on German aeroplanes. After it had taken note of everything it flew away; no one fired at it, and no one to this day knows the meaning of this “mystery” plane. Orders from Brigade to fire at it came later on, but by that time the plane was well out of the range of our field guns.

On the 28th of February the Battalion concentrated on the main road near Kolukuri on the way to the Petras Pass and proceeded up towards the Pass, where a strong defensive position had been held since our arrival in December by the London Scottish. The Battalion halted at Kalivia Miljas for the night, and the most unpleasant night it proved to be with the heavy rains. The following day orders were received to return to Katerina, and the Battalion marched back again as far as the banks of the River Mavourneri, just outside the town. In flood time the river is over a mile in width, but at other times it dwindles down to a fast stream only 40 to 50 feet wide. It was on the rough, dry sandy bed of the river that the whole Brigade was encamped, and here preparations for a long trek were made. The weather was fine, but the strong winds that blew and raised sandstorms made it an unpleasant resting place, and no one regretted the order to move, which was received on the 9th of March.

Before ending this chapter on our stay in Macedonia, the following letter, written from Greece, might prove interesting:—

“Macedonia is a lovely country, and the lack of reading matter a considerable hardship. It is a land of bare treeless valleys, strongly reminiscent of the Veldt and high snow-clad spurs of the Balkans. Of the people, the less said perhaps the better. St. Paul in old time was of the opinion that the Thessalonians were ‘lewd persons of the baser sort,’ or words to that effect, and my experience is that they have not improved by keeping in the interim. A motley mixture of Turks and Bulgars with a smattering of Greeks, they are undoubtedly picturesque in garb, more undoubtedly filthy in person and habits, and most undoubtedly the finest collection of thieves, brigands and cut-throats that could be brought together. When the brigandage business is slack, as at present, they apparently fill in their spare time as herdsmen and shepherds. We are employing considerable numbers in road making and the other day I heard the following: A party of Greeks came along towards our transport, and one bright youth on sighting them lifted up his voice to his chum, ‘Look out, Jack! Here comes Ali Baba and his forty —— thieves.’

“The days are hot and the nights bitterly cold, while at times a terrifically strong and piercing wind, called the Vardar blast, blows from the Balkans. Taken altogether the majority of us heartily wish ourselves back in France.”

CHAPTER XXX
LEAVING KATERINA—TREK TO THE DOIRAN FRONT—KARASULI NIGHT

On the 10th of March, 1917, reveille was at an early hour, and by eight o’clock in the morning the 179th Brigade had formed up in column of route together with the Artillery, Royal Engineers, Machine Gun Corps, and Army Service Corps detachments which had joined it since its arrival at Katerina in December, 1916. The whole town turned out to bid us farewell, and the local band played appropriate music in the market place. Flags decked the low-built houses of the town, and the people of Katerina were sorry to lose the Brigade which, during its short stay, poured thousands of “drachmas” into the town coffers, turning indolence and poverty into business and wealth. The French Commandant also did honour to the British troops and furnished a strong guard of honour, which gallantly stood at the “Present” while the Brigade passed by. The first day of the march was to a place called Tuzla, near the coast some ten miles north of Katerina, and although ten miles on a good English road is a small journey, the badly cut-up roads of Greece and the heavy kit the men were carrying made the journey appear to be twice its actual distance. Mules were loaded to their fullest capacity, and many loads slipped off, causing disorganisation on the march. Eventually, after about five hours’ marching, the Brigade reached the night’s bivouac area, where a terrific cold wind was blowing from the sea. However, “bivvies” were erected and a meal prepared, and every one retired for the night, wondering what the next day would bring.

Every one was astir early the following morning, and after an early breakfast the camp was packed up. Then the real fun of the day commenced; this was the loading of the mules. Although I have not yet described this performance in detail it might interest those who did not actually participate in the trek. Loads were arranged and specially lashed with strong ropes. The great art was to prepare loads in pairs, each of which was of equal weight. Of course, with such articles as blankets, Lewis gun panniers, ammunition boxes, where an equal number solved the difficulty it was an easy matter; but when it came to the question of cooks’ gear, pioneer tools, officers’ valises, and so on, it developed into a matter of either exceeding great skill or pure luck. Having thus made up two loads of equal weight and examined the mule’s girth, the muleteer would stand at the animal’s head and say nice things to it with a view of taking its attention from the loads. Two men would then stand on either flank of the beast and lift the loads, with the intention of hooking them on to the saddle by the rings attached to the lashing ropes. The loading on both sides had to be performed simultaneously, or otherwise the weight on one side only simply twisted the saddle under the mule, annoying the animal to such an extent that it would immediately kick out and break loose, dashing about with the load under its stomach. Such escapades on the part of the mules were all too frequent; the mules hated the loads, and to add to the difficulties of the performance commenced to dance a “tango” on the feet of the unfortunate fatigue men trying to persuade it to carry a couple of heavy side loads. Towards the end of this trek, however, the men became aware of this side-stepping by the mules, and eventually experts in each Company developed, and the balancing of the loads, the synchronisation of the hooking-on process, became matters of skill as the result of sad experience.

From Tuzla the line of march was to Livanovan, and as a contrast to the very cold wind of the previous day the sun poured down, and the journey of twelve miles was over the same badly-made roads, while steep gradients were also encountered. On the 12th of March the Brigade proceeded to Gida, a further distance of twelve miles. On arrival a flat piece of ground was found for the camp. On the march each man carried a few pieces of stick or wood from ration boxes, and at the end of the day’s march a supply of wood for fires was immediately ready on arrival in camp. During this trek great credit was due to the cooks, both in the companies and the officers’ messes, for the splendid way in which they immediately set to and prepared meals for their expectant clients at the end of the day’s march. I know that at Gida, Evison (“D” Company’s mess cook) and his batman pals had so trained themselves that on the arrival of their Company Officers from the men’s lines, after seeing the mules unloaded and the men settled down, a splendid meal of fried eggs and bacon, biscuits and butter, tea, and Welsh rarebit was spread on the mess table-cloth. (“D” Company always boasted of this cloth, regardless of its doubtful snowy whiteness at times.)

The next day, the 13th of March, was very trying owing to the great heat and the distance covered, just over 20 miles. A midday halt was made on that part of the road where the transport section had had such a disastrous time on their journey from Salonica in December, and the mule drivers regaled every one with the horrible details of their experiences. The roads were being improved near the town of Topscin by parties of Bulgar prisoners under French guards. As the column approached Topscin village the sounds of music greeted it. The town was in the hands of the French, and their band had turned out to welcome us. The “Marseillaise” and “God Save the King” were rendered alternately while the whole Brigade marched by.

Just after leaving Topscin we crossed the Vardar River, and a couple of miles beyond, the new camping ground was reached; but the rain which had then set in made the arrival miserable. It was then 6.0 p.m. and every one was dead-beat, but an issue of rum livened us up a little.

The following morning bivouacs were struck and the march resumed as far as Amantovo, a distance of 14 miles, and it was during this march that the first man of the Battalion fell out, and only the excessive heat caused him to faint, showing how splendidly he had stuck to it. The camp at Amantovo was on soft, grassy ground, and the pegs of our bivouacs were driven in with ease, a change after the stony nature of our previous camping grounds. The last part of the day’s march had been over grassy downs, and the beautiful weather made it enjoyable. To add to the happiness, however, there was a surprise in store; a ration of oranges was issued that night. The next day’s march was to be performed in two parts. The start was made about 8.0 a.m., and the route lay through pleasant valleys and over undulating grassland. A few miles from Amantovo the Battalion marched past the Commander-in-Chief of our forces in Salonica, General Sir G. F. Milne, K.C.B., and his staff. The General was greatly impressed with the fitness of the Battalion.

About midday a halt was called and cooking commenced. Plenty of water, duly chlorinated, of course, was drawn from the local streams. In the afternoon small card parties were made up in the Battalion, others slept, while others read novels; each man in some sections carried a small sevenpenny novel, and by exchanging there was plenty to read. Just ahead of the Battalion was a tumulus, and from this point it was said that the “line” could be seen, but of course it was forbidden ground. The progress of the Battalion having been thus barred, we settled down to a very pleasant, restful afternoon in the warm sunshine, little dreaming of the eccentricities of the Macedonian springtime.

At twilight the order was given to move off, and with darkness came rain, and such cold rain, too! The wind sprang up and the first few miles were spoilt by “concertina work” by the column, a most dreaded thing for infantrymen with a heavy kit. However, after the first halt the movement of the column settled down and became more tolerable; but accidents to the mules soon disorganised the column again and connection in the dark became difficult. The Battalion floundered on through mud and slush over what must have been ploughed land, I think. Mules now began to fall out with unfailing regularity and men were constantly detailed from the ranks to reload them, and a very straggling column resulted. No one seemed to be certain of the way over this strange country in the pitch darkness. No one appeared to have a watch, either, for no halts were called; certainly the ground was too thick in wet mud for halting purposes, but after three hours marching over such ground in pouring rain all infantrymen felt the strain. Onwards the Battalion struggled, mile after mile, through this awful morass of mud and the pelting rain. Every one longed for a halt, but this was not to be; not until the Battalion arrived on the outskirts of Karasuli did that precious whistle break the silence. Then every one just sat down in the middle of the road. The men had marched for six hours without a halt or even taking off their packs. Remarkable to relate, the number of men who fell out was practically nil; there were no estaminets here, and to fall out would mean a lonely night in the desolate wilds of northern Greece; and this was an unpleasant prospect. At Karasuli a fairly long halt was made and spirits revived, but being under enemy observation no smoking was allowed; this was the last straw, and the Hun and his Allies had curses heaped upon their heads that night, if ever. Rumour that the final halt was only a few hundred yards ahead helped to improve matters, but even this flicker of hope was damped by the heavy rain that constantly poured down. The whistle sounded again, and off the Battalion moved, though no one knows the route taken to this day. Brigade staff certainly did its utmost to sort out the mixed column of men, mules and transport of all regiments.

The country here was broken by deep gullies or “nullahs” along which the water rushed in torrents. For over an hour the Battalion staggered along over the broken ground, one moment stumbling down a steep rugged bank of a nullah, the next crawling on hands and knees up the slippery bank opposite, and frequently wading nearly waist deep in water. About 1.0 a.m. the Battalion halted. Rain had fallen for hours and the ground was churned up into a quagmire, but a halt, even in these surroundings, was welcome. Men threw off their packs and, in spite of their weariness and exhaustion, it was to be admired that all the mules, which had also struggled through this terrible journey, were immediately unloaded. Kits, rifles and mule loads had been thrown on the ground by the overwrought men, and some just lay down from sheer fatigue; others stood in the bitter cold and awaited the dawn. Some of the more energetic dared to put up their bivouacs, but soon gave up the idea of sleeping owing to the terrific cold wind that blew. Those who were able to move were issued with rum, but I am afraid that owing to the difficulties of the situation and the fact that many men had fallen into a delirious sleep it was unequally divided, and in the darkness it was difficult to discern whether a staggering man was the outcome of too much marching or too much rum. Towards dawn the downpour ceased a little, but the shivering troops, mud from head to foot, still stood in the withering clutches of the Vardar blast, and one man remarked, looking at the surrounding swamp, “Guess I’m standing in the Blasted Vardar, too!” Gradually daylight appeared, and what a scene—drenched men, cold, miserable, hungry and tired. The sick parade was extremely large that morning. Many had become so exhausted that they had laid down in the wet mud during the night and the next morning were, of course, physical wrecks; others had reached a state of delirium and wandered about bereft of their senses, and mention has already been made of the third group, the men who had “really” got the rum. The balance of the Battalion simply felt done up. However, all those who had not been sent to the field hospitals at Karasuli set to work and dragged from beneath the mud, rifles, equipment, bivouac sheets and remnants of the mules’ loads, and sorted them into dumps. The sun shone and life appeared possible, even if not desirable, in this wilderness of mud. About midday the Quartermaster’s Stores sent fatigue parties to an A.S.C. depôt a mile or so away, and fresh meat and rations were issued. Small fires were soon started and the old “gyppa” was on the boil. Every one looked forward to a nice hot meal, when orders for an immediate move were received. One can pass over this scene without expressing the views of the troops; it can well be imagined how pleasing it was to see the half-cooked “gyppa” poured away into the mud, as the cooks’ gear had to be packed on the mules at once.

Soon afterwards the clank of the entrenching-tool handle against the rifle butt and the rattle of the water bottle and other impedimenta associated with troops on the march was heard. The Battalion moved off with Platoons at intervals of 100 yards. The road from Karasuli was in good condition and had dried up under the warmth of the sun and the constant wind, but a mile or so from the camping ground to that main road was covered with deep nullahs and ravines. As we passed over it we wondered how the Battalion had ever marched over such ground the previous night. Once on the main road a decent step was taken and the troops felt the benefit of a good road, and made headway. However, the wind renewed its violence of the previous evening and blew into the face of the Battalion so that the benefit of the better road was soon nullified by the Vardar Blast. Clothing was still saturated with the rain of the night before, and the cold wind simply pierced us to the bones. Snow fell and added to the misery of things and soon the country-side was white; to say nothing of the Father Christmas-like appearance of the troops. When darkness came things really became difficult and the march developed into a hopeless plodding along, fighting against a biting cold head wind the whole while. For the first nine miles the route was along the main road, and the mules retained their loads with comparative ease, and not like the previous day’s march when they slipped and fell over on the treacherous muddy tracks.

So extreme was the cold that after each ten minutes halt it was with difficulty that men rose from the ground; most of them were frozen stiff. About 10.0 p.m. the head of the column was seen crossing the rough ground on the left of the main road. Hopes were raised, and if even a bivouac in the snow was an unpleasant prospect, the ending of the march was some consolation. Visions of a new camp were becoming plain, but when the Battalion followed this column across the rough ground for over an hour hopes were shattered.

From the roadway onwards men of all regiments in the Brigade lined the route; floundering over the rough ground after a stiff march had proved too much for even some of the stalwarts who had braved the night at Karasuli. Transport limbers and mules blocked the way, either stuck in the small nullahs that crossed the route or else the animals had become too exhausted to move. In fact, it was not an uncommon sight to see dead mules on the ground, having succumbed to the extreme cold, and when mules “gave up the ghost” it can be well judged how the men suffered. No one had any fear of being lost this night should he fall out; the route was well marked by deserted limbers, dead mules and fallen loads. About midnight the journey ended and the Brigade halted near the deserted farm buildings which were occupied by the Headquarters of the Brigade in the line. When the signal to halt was given every one just sat down exhausted, but the lesson of the previous night had been learnt, and little sleep was attempted. Small fires were lighted and mess tins were brought out and tea was made. “Scroungeing” parties went round and “won” blankets, tarpaulins, etc., from wherever possible, regardless of the Battalion or Company to which they belonged. Some officers, by dint of hard work, had even erected a bell tent, having a limber pole for its support. Whose tent and whose pole were never questioned. The night thus passed fairly quickly and every one made the best of a bad job. The snow had ceased, and it was, therefore, an improvement on the downpour twenty-four hours previously. As soon as daylight came every one was astir with the exception of the favoured few who had confiscated a pile of officers’ valises and rigged up a temporary shanty. However, their rest was soon disturbed and orders were given to “fall in.” The day was brighter and this cheered us a little. The Battalion soon marched off and soon sites were allotted to Companies in the deep nullahs or ravines about 500 yards from the deserted farm buildings. In the warmth of the sun, the sheltered positions in the ravines soon made us forget the discomfort of the night. The debris of the previous night was collected and every one enjoyed a hot meal which the cooks soon prepared. The afternoon was spent in rest and sleep.

However, war is war, and there is no rest for the wicked. The writer, together with another officer and some N.C.O.’s from each Company, were detailed to go up to the line for reconnaissance purposes that very afternoon. But even the darkest cloud has its silver lining, and after a trudge of four miles the party which had come over the skyline in twos and threes were welcomed by the Headquarters of the London Irish (2/18th London Regiment), and were soon detailed to Companies for the night. It was the 17th of March, and the London Irishmen who had been settled in the part of the line for some weeks celebrated their patron Saint’s day in the proper style, and the requisite canteen stores and drinks had been acquired. No one could have been more hospitable, and the wretched advance party which had left Kolonova that afternoon felt that the war was not so bad as it might have been. Perhaps it would not be out of place to mention here that one of the toasts drunk in the Company dug-out where the writer was so kindly entertained was “To our 1st Battalions, the 1st Civil Service Rifles and the 1st London Irish Rifles.” These Battalions were serving in France with the 47th Division and had curiously left England on St. Patrick’s Day in 1915. The 17th of March is “The day” in the history of our 1st Battalion, but it has its place in the history of the 2nd Battalion. It was the end of what is popularly known as the “Karasuli Trek.”

During the past week the Battalion had marched from Katerina, near Mount Olympus, to Kolonova, on the Doiran Front; a distance of about 100 miles had been covered in seven days. The march was over rough country the whole way. Extremes of weather had been encountered during these few days; from the hottest of Mediterranean suns at Livanovan to the wettest of oriental rains at Karasuli, and to the bleakest of blizzards and snowstorms that the Balkan Heights at Kolonova can produce. The man who was able to stick to his guns throughout this trek can well boast, and only the terrible experiences of the last two nights of the journey deprived many of the same boast.

CHAPTER XXXI
ON THE DOIRAN-VARDAR FRONT—THE ADVANCE

A short description of the situation on the Doiran-Vardar sector of the Salonica Front will no doubt assist the reader to better realise the type of operations peculiar to this theatre of war. A few miles west of Lake Doiran was a mountainous ridge running north and south, about five or six miles long, known as “P” Ridge. This chain consisted of a series of five distinct peaks, the southern one, “Pip 5,” being about 800 feet high, while the remaining four progressively increased in altitude until “Pip 1” at the northern end reached the height of about 1,700 feet (or 535 metres); this was the famous “535” which dominated the country for many miles around, in fact on a clear day the peak could be distinctly seen from the hills at Dudular near Salonica, some 60 miles away. The Bulgar held practically all this ridge of the “Pips” except at the lowest part at the south, where the British had gained a footing. The Bulgar was strongly entrenched on all the slopes of the ridge, and each peak was an almost impregnable fortress in itself.

From the northern end the enemy lines ran due west along a mountainous chain some 1,000 to 1,200 feet high through the town of Devedzili, thence south of Paljorca to Pobreg. Just east of Pobreg the line ran due south for some six miles along another ridge of hills about 600 to 700 feet high which terminated at the “Nose,” a fortified stronghold on the borders of Serbia and Greece. From the “Nose” the enemy trenches were situated on the hills just north of Macukova, finally having the right flank on the banks of the Vardar at a point some four miles from the “Nose.”

The British line ran from the southern extremity of the “P” ridge in a south-westerly direction to the village of Bekerli, from which point it ran practically due west to the Vardar, where our lines were only about 1½ miles from the enemy trenches. The whole of the British line was on the low hills just north of the Cidemli Dere, a valley through which a small stream of about 20 feet in width bubbled along.

South of this stream the reserve British positions were situated on the chain of the Kolonovan Heights (500 feet) which ran along north of Ardzan, Smol and Karasuli. It will therefore be seen that only on our flanks were we in close touch with the enemy; on the left flank near the Vardar for about four miles east of the river banks as far as Reselli opposite the “Nose” where the enemy line turned north, and on the right flank at the foot of the “P” ridge at its southern extremities south of the village of Krastali. Even at these points the lines were at least a mile apart. The remainder of “No Man’s Land” consisted of a plain through which the ravine of the Selemli Dere formed a definite line between the opposing parties. From this ravine the ground was fairly flat for about 500 yards on each bank, but it soon developed into a land of hillocks some hundred feet above the level of the Selemli Dere plain, forming the foot-hills up to the higher ground held by the two armies. In this part of “No Man’s Land” were dotted the deserted villages of Dautli, Selemli and Sejdelli. The enemy had taken up a strong defensive line on the high ground which overlooked the whole of the lesser hills on the southern side of the Selemli plain, and his observation on our movements was therefore good. Any movement by day on our part was restricted, and from the commanding position of “P” ridge he could practically look into our trenches which had been constructed on the forward slopes of the small hills north of the Kolonovan Heights. In daytime these trenches were therefore only held by a sentry group, while the remainder of the garrison retired to the small bivouac camps which had been dug in on the reverse slopes.

Rough Sketch Map Showing Approximately the situation on the ——“Doiran-Vardar” front—— (1917)

By reference to the sketch map at the commencement of this chapter it will be seen that no further advance on our part was possible beyond the Bekerli Village Line, for from “Pip I” the Bulgars could enfilade any camps that were pushed forward. Not until the whole of the “Pip” ridge was gained could any advance on the Vardar section be made.

The British Army had therefore to sit content on the line of low hills, each of which was made into a strong point held by a garrison at night and a sentry group by day. The whole front was strongly wired and the ground or dip between these hills held by a Lewis gun post, or sometimes a Vickers machine-gun section. The wire had been cunningly arranged so that all these re-entrants formed “culs de sac” into which heavy machine-gun fire could be poured by the defenders.

During daytime no one disputed “No Man’s Land,” but at night time strong patrols were sent out by both sides to obtain the mastery, and prevent raids or surprise attacks on the defensive lines that were held. Across the centre of “No Man’s Land” was a line of large white stone pillars at regular intervals, representing the frontier between Greece and Serbia; an interesting fact, though, of course, having no bearing on the actual operations in this part of the world.

The British transport lines and ration dumps were behind the cover of the Kolonovan Heights which ran parallel with the main Karasuli-Kilindir Road which made communication along the rear of our positions comparatively easy. From the transport up to the line the journey was done at night time, except in the case of individual runners, or perhaps two or three men in a party, but so keen was the observation of the Bulgar that even these small parties attracted the unpleasant attention of a “pip-squeak” gun which had the tracks over the ridge “taped” to a nicety.

On the 19th of March, 1917, the Battalion marched up to the line from its bivouacs at Kolonova and took over from the 2/18th London Regiment (London Irish). All reliefs were carried out by night and under cover of darkness the Battalion left its sheltered camp, by Platoons at intervals. Every one had been ordered to maintain silence and no smoking was allowed. All the average man knew was the fact that somewhere over the ridge at Kolonova was the line, how far or how near he was never told, and the order for strict silence on the march led him to believe that the enemy was fairly close to hand, although in point of fact the Bulgar was comfortably settled in the dug-outs of his mountain stronghold at least five miles ahead. Knowing this fact the following incident on the march will be appreciated. A nervous private recently joined approached his Platoon Commander with a whisper, “Don’t you think that officer on horseback ought to cover his luminous wrist watch?” True, Major Oliver was in charge of the Battalion canteen, and probably had first choice of the luminous Ingersolls that occasionally came our way, but even the most luminous are not guaranteed to dazzle the eyes at a distance of five miles. However, such was the keenness of this rifleman to save his platoon from a strafe by the enemy artillery.

For a whole month the Battalion held the line from Waggon Hill, just east of Reselli village, to the village of Bekerli. On our left was a battalion of the 180th Infantry Brigade, while our neighbour on the right was the Queen’s Westminster Rifles of our own Brigade. The Battalion front consisted of Waggon Hill, which overlooked the Selemli Plain and the village of Sejdelli in front, while the ground on the left flank was low and formed a branch of the Selemli Ravine, and made a dangerous entrance to the rear of our positions just opposite the “Nose.” “D” Company occupied this hill, with “B” Company in immediate support in the valley of the Cidemli Dere. The right of the Battalion front was on the high ground near the ruined village of Bekerli, and formed the angle from which the British line ran north-east through Bastion Hill, Bowls Barrow, Whaleback, Horse Shoe Hill to the foot of “Pip 5” on the “P” ridge. “A” Company was responsible for the Bekerli defences, with “C” Company in immediate reserve, while Battalion Headquarters were farther back at Bekerli Ford, on the Cidemli Dere. As previously stated, movement was restricted during the daytime, which was spent in sleep, writing letters and card playing, leavened, of course, by fatigues and working parties for the improvements of dug-outs and similar work which could be undertaken by day under cover of the hills. No movement was allowed beyond an occasional runner to the support Companies or Battalion Headquarters. At night time, however, work commenced. The trenches were strongly garrisoned, and sentry groups were posted along the wire, while still farther out in “No Man’s Land,” about 500 yards from the wire, standing patrols of an N.C.O. and 20 men were posted in order to prevent the enemy from approaching our lines in force.

The support companies furnished large carrying parties to bring up rations, letters and the Balkan News, a newspaper specially printed in Salonica for British troops; all of which arrived from the Quartermaster’s stores at Kulonova, about one hour after dark. They also provided working parties to improve the trenches, which for the most part had been blasted from solid rock. Communication trenches were also made up to the forward companies, care being taken to conceal them in the numerous shallow dips in the ground as any sign of digging was sure to be strafed the next day. All earth had to be removed, as the smallest heap of soil above the level of the ground was looked upon by the Bulgar as the commencement of a new gun emplacement and consequently bombarded. There is no doubt that the Bulgar took every advantage of his higher position, and his observers were very keen, and this together with the wonderful accuracy of his guns made us very careful to conceal all signs of digging.

The support companies also furnished an officer’s patrol each night of about 24 men strong. These fighting patrols had orders to approach the enemy’s wire on the other side of the plain. How different from the patrols of three or four men on the Neuville St. Vaast front in France, where movement was very restricted. On the Doiran front it became a nocturnal route march. A few points were sent ahead and the main body followed en bloc. Although instructions were issued to reach the enemy’s wire it was rarely accomplished; Bulgar patrols were always wandering about on the plain at night. In the area allotted to our Battalion for patrol work were the two villages of Dautli and Selemli, which were much nearer to the enemy’s advanced posts than our own. To reach these villages and search them was about the limit of our adventures. The Bulgars were far too strong at this point, for here the Selemli Dere could be crossed by tracks which the enemy jealously guarded. Fortunately, though shots were sometimes exchanged no serious fighting occurred to the 2/15th London patrols. On the return journey towards daylight it was considered part of the scheme to halt at the village of Sejdelli, near our lines, and break down the woodwork in the houses already damaged by shell fire and bring doorposts, window frames and so on back into our lines for the cooks’ fire. It was most amusing to hear the patrols heralding their safe return by loudly hammering on the woodwork of Sejdelli. Never a Bulgar fell into the hands of our patrols, but they always returned with plenty of wood.

Although in daytime it was not advisable to wander across “No Man’s Land,” on one occasion our Intelligence Officer, Lieutenant Andrew, and his batman, Private Joines, spent a day searching the village of Dautli. They walked to the village during the night and hid themselves at dawn in an empty house to watch the movements of the enemy near the fords across the Selemli Dere near by. Great was their surprise, however, when a party of eight Bulgars appeared from the other side of the village carrying some rabbits and hares. Discretion was the better part of valour and Andrew and his batman decided to keep quiet. After a few exciting minutes and by quietly sneaking around the houses they were able to evade the enemy shooting party, and spent the rest of the day quietly enough locating and sketching the enemy forward posts. They returned to our lines in the evening.

Life under these conditions was very pleasant and the Battalion thoroughly enjoyed its stay in this part of the line. The only interruption beyond the casual shelling of our trenches and camps was the occasional visit of a flight of enemy aeroplanes which crossed over and dropped small bombs near our bivouacs. Usually they passed right over and made targets of the horse lines and dumps in rear of the Kolonovan Heights, and only when they were driven off by our anti-aircraft guns did they attempt to expend their efforts on our small hillside camps. Aerial activity on this front was very persistent, and practically every day our bombing planes sailed over and bombed the railways and dumps behind the Bulgar lines.

Occasionally a fight in the air took place, but the commoner sight was the repeated attacks of the enemy airmen on our observation balloon at Kolonova. On one or two occasions it was brought down in flames, but more often the attacker was driven off by our anti-aircraft guns, and on one occasion a direct hit by an “Archie” shell brought down the offending airman. The plane fell in flames near our battalion transport lines, and curiously when the wreck reached the ground the machine gun was still spitting out bullets and a few men of a neighbouring regiment were wounded by them.

The enemy infantry troubled us very little, and only an occasional cross fire between patrols made us aware of their presence, and fortunately they made no endeavours to reach the Battalion front; although at Bowls Barrow, a few hundred yards on our right, they made a determined raid on the 1st of April on a British post and inflicted casualties.

About the middle of April, however, our artillery became extremely active, and on the 20th the “Nose” and “P” ridge were heavily bombarded. This was the opening of an offensive on our part which was undertaken with a view of capturing the whole of “P” ridge. The bombardment was continued for three whole days with the intention of cutting the fields of wire which protected the Bulgar positions and to destroy his forward entrenchments. On the 23rd of April the volume of artillery increased considerably and continued until the night of the 24th, when the 2/20th Battalion of the London Regiment raided the stronghold of the “Nose.” Under cover of this heavy bombardment the Blackheath Battalion approached the enemy wire, and although our artillery had damaged it considerably, it still formed a great obstacle to the raiders. Heavy machine-gun fire was encountered, and the front slopes of the “Nose” were heavily barraged by the enemy, who also used strong search-lights from the crest of the “Nose” which swept the forward part of the position. Only a few gallant fellows ever reached the Bulgar trenches and the casualties were very heavy. For several nights afterwards search parties were out bringing in wounded. For the actual raid there was little direct success, but it served its purpose and acted as feint attack which drew a great deal of the enemy’s artillery fire, and thereby assisted the main attack which commenced that same night on the “P” ridge. This was successful, and Pip 4 and Pip 5 were captured after heavy fighting. The Battalion actually took no part in this general offensive, and fortunately the enemy’s artillery was so deeply engaged in combating the two serious attacks on their lines at the “Nose” and on “P” ridge that most of us were able to look from our trenches and watch the pyrotechnic display on either side. There can be no doubt that the British suffered heavy casualties in the minor attacks and counter-attacks which followed this initial success on the “P” ridge, but any attack on such strongholds as the “Pips” must of necessity be at great expense. The battle raged for about four days, but gradually subsided, and on the 27th of April the Battalion was taken out of the line and marched back to Tetre Verte, just over the ridge of the Kolonovan Heights, “D” Company remaining at Mektoub in immediate reserve to the London Scottish, who were holding the line east of Bekerli. Of all the camps in the Salonican area Mektoub was undoubtedly the safest, as it lay behind the cover of the hill, and consisted of tiers of dug-outs built into the very steep side of the hill. While out of the line the Battalion found fatigues even harder than in the line, for as far back as Tetre Verte one could wander about unobserved by the enemy, and, therefore, people who were seen very little in the front line were now very much in evidence.

On the eighth of May the line from the village of Krastali to Waggon Hill was slightly advanced in order to straighten the line which had been pushed forward by the partial success of the forward movement on the “P” ridge. Of course, this operation amounted to “peaceful penetration,” and no attack was necessary. The actual advance was made by the London Scottish and the Westminsters on that part of the line north-east of the Bekerli village, and was of course continued towards Krastali by the division on their right. Only “D” Company from Mektoub was engaged in this operation, having been brought up in support of the London Scottish as far as Piton 5, in rear of Middle Hill, and not to be mistaken for Pip 5 on the “P” ridge. On the 179th Brigade front the movement was performed without obstruction by the enemy, though further north-west near the village of Krastali strong opposition was met by the Division advancing from the Whaleback, and heavy artillery support had to be given to assist this section of the advance. Unfortunately one of the supporting batteries was firing from the dip in rear of Piton 5 and inflicted several casualties on “D” Company owing to their shells bursting at the muzzle of the guns. Lieutenant Miles and Private Cutchee were badly wounded, while Lieutenant F. W. Lewis and Lieutenant Martin received minor wounds and remained on duty.

The original line ran from Bekerli village north-west along the forward slopes of Mamelon Vert, Bastion Hill, Piton 6, Hill 275, Scratchbury Hill, Bowls Barrow, along Whaleback to Horse Shoe Hill, but after the advance the new line ran through Pitons 1, 2, 3 and 4, Basin Hill, Single Tree Hill, Tomato Hill over Krastali Nullah forward of Whaleback, and on the Pip ridge. After the night’s operation on the 8th, “D” Company returned to Mektoub under the cover of a heavy fog, the rest of the Battalion having remained at Tetre Verte during the advance.

The next night, the 9th of May, “D” Company left Mektoub as local reserve for the Westminsters, who pushed forward on to Goldies Hill, thus forming a salient in our new line between Basin Hill and Tomato Hill. The taking of Goldies by the Westminsters was resented by the Bulgar, who made a strong attack on the position with the assistance of a heavy artillery preparation. However, the Queen’s Westminsters held on and drove off the attack after heavy local fighting. On the 10th the Battalion moved from Tetre Verte and took over the new line from the London Scottish and also Goldies from the Westminsters.

Rough Sketch Map shewing the Advance in May 1917 on the Doiran-Vardar front.

The advance was comparatively a bloodless victory as far as the 179th Brigade was concerned, nevertheless it was of great importance on our front. From the new line the Selemli-Dautli plain was now under our direct observation from Pitons 3 and 4, Basin Hill, Goldies, and these hills therefore became positions from which an attack on the Selemli Fords could be attempted. Furthermore, it denied the Bulgar of the freedom of manœuvre over the captured part of “No Man’s Land,” while facing north from Goldies and Tomato Hill we were in closer touch with the enemy’s advanced posts near Devedzili on the slopes of White Scar and Flat Iron Hills. It had been impossible for the British forces to push forward before as we had only captured Pips 4 and 5 on the “P” ridge a few days previously. The capture of these two pips enabled our men to occupy more advanced positions without being under the direct observation of the Bulgar. The enemy resented very much the aggression on our part, and constantly shelled the newly-taken hills.

For the first fortnight of this period in the line the Battalion was employed in consolidating the new positions, and on the forward slopes of Tomato Hill, Single Tree Hill and Goldies, trenches were dug and each night miles of barbed-wire entanglements were erected. All this work was carried out under the protection of strong fighting patrols which took up their positions on the ravine in front of Flat Iron Hill. In daytime the hills were left in charge of a single sentry group and one signaller, while the remainder of the garrison retired for the day into the small nullahs on the rear of each hill ready to counter-attack should a message be received from the sentry group. Throughout the day the enemy ranged in the new-cut trenches, and with the exception of an unfortunate shell which wounded Lieutenant Hounsell, our forward groups had a charmed life. Only a minimum force was left behind the hills during the day; the remainder of the men returned to the old camps on Hill 275 and Piton 6. At night time, however, when large working parties were engaged in consolidating the positions, the enemy’s artillery became very active and many casualties resulted.

However, the hill which received the greatest strafe at nights was Goldies; the occupation of this point annoyed the Bulgar very much. The hill consisted of three distinct peaks one in front of the other, and were known as Goldies I, II, and III. Trenches were sited on II and III, while on Goldies I a strong patrol went out each night. For the first week of our occupation the hill was constantly shelled, and no less than ten distinct batteries showered their offerings on our heads. Fire came from White Scar direction in the north, from Pip 1 and 2 on the right, and from the Ouvrage de Trapeze on the left. In time we became acquainted with the direction of each battery and special sentries were posted who shouted “No. 6,” and then all the men on Goldies II bobbed down to the shelter in the shallow trenches, the occupants of Goldies III taking no notice; but when the sentry shouted, “No. 4 battery” it was the men on Goldies III who bobbed down while No. II men carried on with their work as though nothing had happened. Throughout the night the hill received a constant bombardment, and in one hour alone 600 shells fell near Goldies II and III.

Like the garrisons of the other hills the night garrison on Goldies retired for the day to the nullah in rear of the hill, leaving a small sentry group on Goldies II and III. The only approach to the top of Goldies from our lines was up a small ravine, and the Bulgars were apparently aware of its existence, the place was shelled both day and night, and was christened Pip Squeak Alley. At night, large working parties were sent up from the support battalion of the Brigade and dug a communication trench up the rear of the hill, and also one connecting Goldies II and III, but considerable casualties were incurred while the work was in progress.

The patrol on Goldies I pushed out scouts at night to the ravine in front, and one night a patrol, under Lieutenant Lewis, met a strong force of 20 Bulgars and a short sharp fight ensued. Our losses were only slight, chiefly wounds from bombs, but several Bulgars were killed, Lieutenant Lewis gallantly rushing the post and shooting two of the enemy with his revolver. The next night it was decided to raid the post with artillery support, but the patrol found that the Bulgar had fled. A special watch on this ravine was therefore kept, and Lieutenant Andrew and his batman Joines (“D” Company) spent the next day hidden in the bushes at the foot of Goldies I. A strong post of Bulgars came up to the ravine at daylight and settled themselves comfortably in the ravine, unaware of the watching couple. After a time a Bulgar N.C.O. wandered away from his comrades and approached the hiding place of Andrew and his batman, which was only 25 yards from the enemy. Suddenly the Bulgar’s attention was attracted by a walking stick on the ground which had been left by Andrew just before dawn when they took cover in the bushes. The Bulgar picked it up and examined his souvenir, but before he had taken full details of his find Lieutenant Andrew and Private Joines rushed at him and captured him. Whether the other Bulgars near by were struck motionless or whether the N.C.O. was particularly unpopular it is not known, but in broad daylight and in full view of the enemy Andrew and his batman chased their prisoner towards our lines and soon got under the cover of the hill. No attempt was made to follow them, and the Bulgar N.C.O. was soon on his way to Brigade Headquarters. It was an amusing adventure, but the brilliant daring of our two representatives cannot be over-estimated. Surprise had beaten numbers.

The Battalion held these new positions until the end of May When the whole Brigade was taken out of the line and concentrated at Dache near Kolonova. Rumours floated around that Pip 3 on the “P” ridge was to be our objective, but on the 5th of June orders were received to march back as far as Hadji Junas, about 10 miles behind the line. The march was carried out on the night of the 5th of June, and rain poured down making the route over the soft marshy ground near Lake Ardzan slippery and treacherous. The Battalion remained here for three days in hot weather and had an enjoyable rest.

On the 8th of June the march was continued south via Janis and Kukus as far as Sargol. By this time it was apparent that Salonica was to be our destination, and on the 11th of June we arrived at Uchanter, not far from Dudular, our first camp in Salonica, having stayed one day at Nares and another day at Ambarkoy on the route. This trek from the line was much pleasanter than the trek to the line in the previous March. Marching was done at night under the silvery rays of a bright moon, each night’s journey being about 15 miles. The weather was now becoming hot and marching at night was far more enjoyable than toiling along under the hot rays of the midday sun; after leaving Hadji Junas the roads were good, and I think the march was enjoyed by most of us; even the company mules behaved themselves and gave a minimum of trouble.

For the rest of the week the Battalion, in company with the remainder of the 60th Division, spent its time doing what the authorities were pleased to call “intensive training,” which meant field work from morn to night. During the night of the 19th of June the Battalion packed up its home and marched to the docks at Salonica. Great secrecy was made of the destination, and even the Commanding Officer and his staff who went down to the ship earlier in the evening were not allowed to return to the camp in case the news leaked out. On the morning of the 20th of June the Battalion boarded the Abbasieh, and learning that the boat was one of the Khedival Line, Egypt was soon on every lip. The sea journey was pleasant, and on the 22nd of June, while at sea, dinners celebrating the anniversary of our departure from England, twelve months previously, were held in all parts of the ship.

CHAPTER XXXII
ALEXANDRIA, 23RD JUNE, 1917—ISMAILIA—BELAH—DESERT TRAINING—GAMBLI AND TEL EL FARA—EL SHAULTH—PREPARATIONS FOR THE PALESTINE OFFENSIVE

Alexandria was reached on the midnight of the 22nd June, 1917, and every one was pleased to get rid of the ever-present encumbrance on board troopships—the life belt, which brought back memories of the Transylvania. What a glorious sunrise we witnessed, the harbour with its white buildings gave us a feeling that we had at last again reached civilisation after our sojourn in the wilds of Macedonia. Disappointment, however, was keen when no leave ashore was granted, and only a few officers on duty were allowed on the Docks. Lieutenant Lewis and the writer however, under the pretext of purchasing food for the officers’ messes, spent a pleasant afternoon in the town and honoured “Groppi’s Tea Shop” with our presence, only to return to the boat to find a train alongside with half of the battalion already entrained. Early in the evening the Battalion started on its journey to Ismailia on the Suez Canal. Every one enjoyed the scenery of the Nile Delta while daylight lasted, and the beauty of the Egyptian sunset appealed to all. Descriptions of Egypt are to be found in many books, and I need hardly spend any time in this short history to describe it, sufficient to say that the Battalion thoroughly enjoyed the train journey and the excitement of being in a strange land made us forget the war.

Just after midnight the train pulled up at Ismailia and the desert was struck for the first time. The moon was bright, making night like day, and under the leadership of camp guides the Battalion marched through the heavy sand for about a mile or so and were soon allotted their lines in a huge base camp. Tea, as usual, was soon made and partaken of. Every one then retired to their tents and soon fell asleep; here was a land, at last, where blankets were not absolutely essential. However, dawn is early in these latitudes, and the sun shone down with considerable fierceness from about 5 a.m. The oppressive heat of the tents soon woke every one, to say nothing of the heavy hum of the aeroplanes from the local aerodrome, which flew so low that they missed the tent tops by a few feet, much to the dismay of the occupants. Flying cannot be carried out with such security in the heat of the day in Egypt, owing to the numerous air pockets, and during our stay at Ismailia reveille each morning was heralded by the heavy drone of these planes.

Ismailia, a small town on the Suez Canal, has a considerable French population, connected with the canal company. The town is very clean, even in the native quarters, while palm groves and tropical gardens furnish a relieving contrast to the surrounding desert of yellow sand. During the war it became the Base of the Australian Imperial Forces and also contained a large British Ordnance Depot. The main railway line from Port Said to Suez passed through the town, and on the east lay the large lakes of Timsah which form part of the Suez Canal. Leave passes into the town were granted, and this freedom was greatly appreciated by the men; for since the days of Katerina we had not even been encamped near a village. Officers were invited as honorary members of the French Club which provided excellent luncheons and dinners at a reasonable cost. The place was crowded each evening and jolly times were spent there. Leave as far as Cairo and Alexandria was granted, and parties left daily for three days in one of these cities. A certain amount of training was carried out in the early morning and in the evening. The men in their pith helmets and “shorts” soon became acclimatised and accustomed to the terrific heat of the sun. Bathing parades in the lakes were held daily, and on the whole our stay at Ismailia was most enjoyable. At the end of July the Battalion moved by road as far as Kantara.

It was only a few days after our arrival at Ismailia that the Transport Section, minus horses, limbers, mules, etc., joined us from Salonica. They had left on board the Cestrian, and while at sea had been torpedoed and landed on the island of Mudros.

The following eye-witness story by the Transport Officer, Lieutenant T. W. Pearson, gives a short description of the sinking of the Cestrian:—

“The Battalion and part of the transport personnel sailed for Egypt a few days before the main body of the transport. The remainder of the transport received orders to load and embark on the Cestrian, on the 23rd of June, 1917. In addition to ourselves, with our limbers and animals, the Sherwood Rangers Yeomanry and a Divisional S.A.A. column sailed on the boat; in all about 980 men and 960 animals.

“While we were loading, a German plane came over, but it flew at such a height that no one took much notice of it, but afterwards we thought it may have had something to do with the loss of the Cestrian.

“The Staff Veterinary Officers commented very favourably on the condition of our animals.

“We eventually sailed about 9.0 p.m. in the evening, under glorious conditions; all the men and animals having comfortable berths. We were escorted by two destroyers, and these sailed on either side. We were about 12 or 13 hours out of Salonica early on Sunday morning, the 24th June, having just been dismissed from boat drill, and all was peaceful and the water as smooth as a billiard table, when suddenly the boat gave a terrible lurch; the water around was churned up and shot to a great height on the starboard side. We had been torpedoed right amidship and the torpedo had struck the boilers, and soon every one was drenched with the sooty water which had been forced out of the funnels, and a funny looking lot we were.

“Part of the torpedo was forced on the upper deck. It was a terrible shock to all, as there was no warning whatever, but no one lost his head, every one went quietly to his respective boat station, without any panic. One of the life-boats allotted to us was broken up by the explosion, and, as an example of the coolness of our men, one of the fellows calmly produced a pocket camera and took snapshots of the damage.

“Nobody was allowed to go down below to the animals, though we could hear them screaming. If the incident had occurred about half an hour later we should have been below at stables and probably there would have been many more casualties. Fortunately, the casualties were confined to the ship’s crew below. I heard that one had been killed and several seriously wounded and scalded.

“Within a few seconds, one of the destroyers was alongside and commenced transferring the men from the wreck aboard her by means of ropes and rope ladders, and while this was taking place she was firing at 1,000 yards range at the periscope of the Hun, and is believed to have made a hit. The second destroyer was circling around at full speed to keep the submarine from reappearing. Many of the men jumped overboard on the port side, but all were saved by the second escort. The wireless was soon busy, and in a very short time help came from all directions. The Cestrian did not sink at once, but was towed to within a few miles of land when she suddenly went down with all animals on board. It is thought that she would have been towed in safely except for the fact that so many port-holes had been left open.

“The men were landed at Mudros, which was one of the islands used as a base depot during the Dardanelles campaign. We were a queer-looking crowd when we landed; some with nothing on their feet; others just in shirts and trousers; I don’t think anyone was fully dressed. The staff on the island were wonderfully kind, and did all that was possible to make us comfortable. Within half an hour of landing at Mudros, all were billeted and were comfortably housed. The A.S.C. officials were very prominent and had rations out to the men in a very short time. During our stay here, the Y.M.C.A. deserves great praise, they got all manner of things for the men free of charge, and organised concerts. They did so well that I believe many of the men wrote home to their parents to send a subscription to the Y.M.C.A. We were on the island for just a week when we were picked up by a boat from Salonica proceeding with troops of our own Brigade (London Scottish) for Egypt. We arrived in Alexandria minus our transport. I regret to say that the Battalion never had such good animals again all the time in the Palestine campaign as those which we had lost on the Cestrian. On arrival in Egypt the Battalion had to have the ‘cast offs’ from the other Battalions in the Division who were reducing their strength, and, naturally, they handed to us all their ‘duds,’ and you never saw such ‘clothes racks’ as they were. How the transport ever kept up with the Battalion on trek in Palestine I don’t know. As time went on, however, we were able to make exchanges with the Remount Department and got rid of some of our worst.”

To return to the doings of the Battalion in Egypt. Their stay at Kantara, which had by this time developed into an immense base for the Egyptian Expeditionary Force, was only for a day, and they were soon on the train bound for the Palestine Front. This desert railway across the Sinai Peninsula for over a distance of 150 miles was one of the finest engineering feats of the war. Early in the war the British garrison had jealously guarded Egypt by means of outposts along the Suez Canal, and frequent raids on this defensive line were made by the Turks. It was, therefore, decided to push the line right out into the desert, and under the pressure of the Australian Mounted units, the Desert Mounted Corps and certain Infantry Divisions, the Turk was forced north, and when the Battalion joined the E.E.F. the firing line was just south of Gaza and running inland to Sheik Nuran on the south-east, generally speaking along the line of the Wadi Ghuzze. The whole of this advance from the Canal to Gaza had been made over the trackless waste of the Sinai Peninsula desert. In order to provide rations, stores and ammunition to the advancing troops a railway was laid by the Royal Engineers, ably assisted by working parties of the Egyptian Labour Corps of natives. The railway was kept up to the advancing troops at each step forward, and in order to provide water a pipe line ran at the side of the railway. Dumps and depots were made at intervals. At El Arish numerous sidings were built and stores and water were accumulated, and the small oasis of palm groves became a busy advanced base. From this point the line was pushed forward through Rafa, and when the Battalion arrived in Egypt the railhead was at Belah a few miles south of Gaza; where there were large dumps and also two extensive stationary hospitals. On arrival at Belah the Battalion detrained and marched through loose sand, ankle deep, and great was the relief when it pitched its bivouac near the seashore; the pleasure of sea bathing was shortlived, for in a few days, on the 29th July, 1917, the Battalion marched inland to join the Desert Corps. It was here at Belah that a new method of transport was introduced in the shape of the Camel Transport Corps. That fascinating quadruped, the camel, was substituted for the mule, although a few mule-drawn vehicles still remained for general purposes. At Belah there were extensive camel lines; each camel company, which consisted of 600 camels, having its own area. Ropes were staked across the width of these lines at regular intervals and to these ropes the camels were tethered a few yards apart. Each pair of camels had an Egyptian attendant, who was dressed in a long butcher-blue smock with the letters C.T.C. in red on the chest. These natives took great pride in their lines and kept them particularly clean, while the saddles were neatly arranged just in rear of the camels.

The saddle fitted over the hump of the camel, and at each side near the top of the saddle were fixed two stout bars of wood, about ten inches longer than the saddles, on to which the loads were hooked in rope nets. Water was carried in “fanatis” or copper tanks, which rested on the sides of the saddle. A certain number of men were detailed as camel guides from each company and section in the Battalion.

On leaving Belah, on the evening of the 29th July, the Battalion struck inland in a south-easterly direction along rough-made tracks, but the sand was loose and made the going very heavy. Although it was evening time the heat was terrific, and soon the perspiration was rolling down every one’s face and the dust raised by the column soon formed into mud on the face and hands. Every one was choked with dust and eyes and nostrils became extremely painful. No one felt like singing, and even talking was rewarded with a mouthful of sand, one and all just blindly followed on through the cloud of dust raised by the four in front, which could only just be discerned. Water was limited, and it was practically forbidden to drink it; only a mouth wash or gargle could be indulged in. After struggling for about nine or ten miles in this unpleasant fashion the whole column was relieved to move off the tracks and settle down for a rest. With no movement the dust clouds disappeared, and in the wondrous beauty of the moonlight of a warm Egyptian night bivouacs were soon erected, but water was too scarce to make tea, and doubts arose as to when the next issue would arrive. Nevertheless, tiredness overcame the Battalion, and it was soon asleep. The next morning the sun poured down, but the arrival of the water camels cheered us and the routine of desert life, which was to be our existence for some time to come, had begun. After a day’s rest, which included the kicking about of a football by some of the more energetic, the Battalion moved off again in the evening, about 4 p.m., and plodded its weary way past Sheik Nuran to Gambli on the Wadi Ghuzze. This was a repetition of the previous night’s march in every detail, except that the ending was not a simple right wheel on to the level desert, but as a special treat a descent of the steep cliffs of the wadi banks had to be negotiated. This descent was difficult with such appendages as company mules, camels and transport, and was followed by a mile over the stony bed of the wadi. About midnight the Battalion halted and settled for the night under the steep banks of the wadi. The next day the companies went out to take over the line on the Gambli defences. Reliefs were carried out by day and companies simply marched over the desert in mass, a most amusing performance after the communication trenches in France and the careful night reliefs on the Salonica Front. At this point of the line the Turks were at least 20 miles away, and, therefore, precautions from shelling were not necessary. This, indeed, was a pleasant part to hold and keep. Strong points well wired around were held, these being about 150 yards apart. The right flank of our line curled back so that it actually faced away from the Turk. The front was protected by night by cavalry patrols of Australian Light Horse, while to the east the Desert Camel Corps was operating as a mobile flank guard. Bivouacs were arranged in the small wadis or fissures in the ground and, of course, movement was not restricted. To those who were not privileged to see this part of the war it would be humorous to think of the sentry by day standing in the trench shewing well above the parapet under the protection of a huge umbrella-like shade which could be seen for miles around. Although the war in this theatre lacked shot and shell it had other horrors in the shape of oppressive heat, limited supplies of water, sandstorms, and numerous flies. In addition to the ever-present insect life associated with active service and the trenches, there were centipedes, scorpions, tarantula spiders and small snakes, which invaded our blankets. Chameleons were also plentiful and were kept as pets, though we never committed the atrocity attributed to a man in a Scottish Division on the Palestine Front who placed a pet chameleon on his tartan kilt and wondered why the poor little beggar suddenly died.

An average day in these parts was as follows: Early morning company drill in front of the wire, breakfast, and then utter collapse and seeking of shade until about 4 p.m. The only joy of the hot day was the arrival of the camels with water, and even this water was strongly chlorinated. Water was drawn from the Wadi Ghuzze where, by digging down for a few feet, pools of water were frequently found. During the day every one lay down and put pieces of muslin over their faces, hands and exposed knee caps, so that the flies should not be too irritating. Each afternoon a hot wind, called the “Khamsin,” blew regularly and brought with it a sandstorm. Drifting sand found its way into every nook and cranny; the food was soon covered and things were generally unpleasant while the storm lasted. It was during one of these afternoons that a private remarked: “They call this a land of milk and honey, eh! One tin between 20 men and not a b——bee to be seen.” However, about 4 p.m. each day the atmosphere cooled a little; letter writing (not to forget the inevitable censoring), card playing and dinner were the next items on the programme, only to be marred by the company drill and exercises that followed.

At night-time sentry groups were posted by each platoon in its own strong point, and visiting patrols wandered between the posts throughout the night. It was a short night and no aerial torpedoes or other types of frightfulness disturbed the tour of duty. Each evening about 5 p.m. large bodies of Australian Cavalry went out to the front, sometimes accompanied by Armoured Cars, and took up an outpost line some five or six miles ahead of the defensive line. But even with this cavalry screen it was possible for a strong raiding party of Turks to attack one of our posts. In fact, only a short time before our arrival, our predecessors had been surprised one morning by a heavy bombardment with field guns, which some adventurous Turks had brought up under cover of darkness.

The Battalion, however, remained in undisputed possession of this part of the line until the 12th August, when it was relieved by the 2/13th Londons (Kensingtons) and retired to Tel el Fara, renowned as being a camping ground of Richard Cœur-de-Lion and his Crusaders. Tel el Fara was a high cliff jutting out into the Wadi Ghuzze and could be seen for many miles around and was used as an observation post. It was the local landmark for all who were lost on the desert. It is an easy matter to be lost on the desert, as each square mile is identical with its neighbours, and only a feature like Tel el Fara helped the wanderer.

The rest of the month was spent in training and lectures, when the heat permitted, and was only varied by an occasional route march in the early morning, not a pleasant outing. The tracks were not watered by the local borough council and chewing grit was the only occupation of the silent troops; talking and singing was impossible, and this denial always added to the monotony of the march. Practice attacks were also carried out against imaginary enemies.

By the beginning of September the Battalion had moved to El Shaulth, near Sheik Nuran, and remained there to prepare for the offensive which was to be made in Palestine. The men had become accustomed to the heat and no longer was it necessary to reserve parades until evening time. All day and every day training was carried out with vigour, until Brigade operations in the way of advanced guards, attacks and long night marches became frequent. A rifle range was built and field firing was done. It may be interesting to mention that some of our tactical schemes were carried out some six or seven miles in front of the wire of the defences. On one occasion the Brigade set out on a long night march by the assistance of many luminous compasses and numerous pacers, the objective being a lone tree standing in the open desert some ten miles away from our camps. The march was made and by all the careful calculations we arrived at our destination about two hours before dawn. A halt was called, but no trace of the lone tree could be found, and after an energetic search by mounted officers and a consequent “pow-wow” the verdict, “Lost,” was given, and there was nothing to do but to wait till dawn. When the sun rose it transpired that we were in the correct spot, but during the night some Australian Troop, which had run short of wood, had cut down the tree which had stood alone in the desert on the previous day, and to all appearances had stood since the days of the Flood, only to be felled by the hand of a “Dinkum.” The opinion of the Brigade staff who had arranged this pleasant little outing is not recorded, but it is thought was not complimentary to our friends from the Antipodes.

Plans for the great attack were being drawn up about this time, and officers made reconnaissances towards the Turkish lines. These outings were no small undertakings. A party of officers and grooms would leave El Shaulth about 5 a.m. in the morning and ride over the desert to the more rugged and undulating country to the south of Beersheba, and then spend some hours in the heat of the day in scouting over the hills on foot to become acquainted with the ground, and at the same time doing their best to evade the Turkish patrols which frequented the hills. The party would then rendezvous at a given time in the early evening and start on the homeward journey. A halt would be called about ten miles from the Turkish lines, at which point it was considered safe to disregard the Turk. Here, under the glorious moonlight, a picnic would be held and the adventures of the day would be recounted, and after a smoke the journey would be resumed, camp being reached by about 2 a.m. the next morning. From the Turkish lines to the Wadi Ghuzze landmarks were definite enough, but on the other side of the wadi there was nothing but sand for miles. Everyone knew the most direct route to the camp, and, of course, this was the beginning of an argument which often ended in parties of officers going off in different directions. At different times during the night these parties struck the camp; some had taken the direct route, some had been misled by lights in other camps; others found that some camp which had existed when they went out had moved during the day, and so on. However, on return to camp there was always a hot meal ready, prepared by our faithful batmen, who waited up for us. A word here perhaps would not be out of place in praise of the batmen of the Battalion. Veritable “scroungers,” they always thought of their officers, and nothing was too hot or too heavy, not even the Company Commander’s valise. At the end of each day’s trek or manœuvre they forgot their own fatigue and prepared meals for the mess, the variety of which was confined to the army rations and the ever-present issue of sand.

The only excitement of the war at El Shaulth was the daily visit of two enemy aeroplanes to our camps and a few days’ operations at Hiseia, on the Wadi Ghuzze, where we tackled the banks of the wadi instead of trenches dug in the flat sand, and where we had already exhausted the possibility of taking cover on such ground during the attack.

Besides the shortage of water, fuel was also very limited, and Egypt was practically denuded of trees to provide fuel for the E.E.F. One Company cook, however, had different views as to the origin of his firewood, and after vainly endeavouring to chop a hard piece of olive wood which had been issued to him, paused, and with much emphasis consigned the trunk to a far hotter fire than his own, remarking what he required was “wood and not Adam’s petrified doorposts.”

So far I have only spoken on the warlike side of our stay at El Shaulth, but among the pleasanter things of life was the leave to Cairo or Alexandria which had been granted. With what joy those few miles over the desert to Sheik Nuran were traversed, followed by a scramble for the leave train and then a long train journey on the Desert Railway to Kantara, which took about twelve hours. At Kantara a rush was made for the Divisional Rest Camp, a wash and shave and breakfast and a dash for the first available train on the Egyptian State Railways and then a comfortable journey to Cairo or Alexandria. I need hardly describe either of these cities, for as holiday resorts they hold a world-wide reputation. The return to the line about nine days later was never so pleasant. The heat became oppressive again, the meal at the rest camp at Kantara was adversely criticised, and the desert train journey was monotonous in the extreme. However, on rejoining the Battalion, tales of the Continental, Shepheards, the Pyramids, the Sphinx, the Barrage and so forth were told, while the fellows from Alexandria talked of nothing but the Majestic, the Regina Palace, the Races, Bathing, and Groppi’s.

By the middle of October the serious side of the campaign in Palestine had commenced, and most people had had their leave in Egypt. Leave was stopped and football and sports in the evenings, and an occasional Divisional concert party were our only entertainments. The post was regular and parcels were received, although occasionally a foot-note in Battalion orders to the effect that the mails from the United Kingdom on certain dates had been lost at sea through enemy action made us depressed. Canteen stores were plentiful, as we were near the railhead at Sheik Nuran, but they soon became less in quantity as the ration trains were then being employed for war material for the coming advance. Towards the end of October the attack on Beersheba was a popular topic, and the hard training was not to be in vain. The Battalion was fit and strong, although malaria and fever had claimed their victims, and a fair number were sent down to Base Hospitals. However, the Battalion was ready and willing to show the Turks the way to the north.

While at El Shaulth several changes took place in the higher command. Major-General J. S. Shea, C.M.G., had taken over the Division from Major-General E. S. Bulfin, C.B., who had been promoted to the command of the 20th Corps, while Lieut.-Colonel C. de Putron left us to go to the School of Instruction at Zeitoun, near Cairo, his place being filled by Lieut.-Colonel T. E. Bisdee (Duke of Cornwall’s L.I.). Colonel Bisdee was intensely popular with all ranks from the first day of joining the Battalion, and in the short time he commanded us before Beersheba he worked wonders. The Company Commanders at this time were Captains C. H. Rimington, F. W. Lewis, K. A. Wills, and A. C. H. Benké.

CHAPTER XXXIII
BEERSHEBA, 1917 (21ST OF OCTOBER TO 4TH OF NOVEMBER)—WADI WELFARE

The left flank of the Turkish line, which ran south-eastward from Gaza, formed a stronghold around the south-eastern outskirts of Beersheba. In the main scheme of the advance in Palestine the 60th Division was detailed to attack and take those trenches covering the Khalasa Road which ran from Beersheba on the south-west of the town. On the right of the Division were the 21st Corps cavalry regiment (½nd County of London Yeomanry) and they were ordered to make an enveloping movement simultaneously with the main attack on the Beersheba defences. From the desert line held by the Battalion near the Wadi Ghuzze at Gambli a long approach march was necessary. On the 21st of October, 1917, the Battalion moved from the Wadi Ghuzze, near Gambli, where the 179th Brigade had been concentrated. The march was not a difficult one, as the track lay over country of a more solid surface than the desert we had just left, but some sympathy must be given to “D” Company of the Battalion, who had marched some additional eight miles at midday across the desert from Divisional Head Quarters at Shellal, where they had represented the Battalion at a Divisional Church Parade in the morning and had been on parade since the early hours of dawn.

In the cool of the evening the column started out full of glee, knowing that at last a march was to be undertaken without that horrible feeling that the further one went from camp the further one would have to retrace one’s steps. The weather was fine and the journey was along the high ground overlooking the Wadi Shanag, a continuation of the Wadi Ghuzze, past the peak of Goz Mabrouk and across the Shanag at Bir Esani to the high ground that lay between the fork of the function of the Wadis Imalaga and Esani, just south of Rashid Bek. About midnight the column halted, and the Battalion took up an outpost line reaching from Rashid Bek, a desolate, empty eastern house standing some 690 feet above sea-level, to the north bank of the Wadi Imalaga. The remainder of the Brigade extended the line to the north as far as the Karm-Beersheba Road. The line was taken up on the 22nd of October, and the Battalion remained here until the 28th of October. During the week forward reconnaissance work was done, and, under cover of the outpost, stores and guns were brought up by means of tractors, while large columns of camels and small white donkeys brought up ammunition, etc. A large dump of foodstuffs and stores was formed near the Khalasa-Esani road, and it was amusing to think that this dump was some few hundred yards in advance of the outpost line, although in front of the dump there was a cavalry screen of Australian mounted troops. Even if the Turk had attacked in force the outpost line would have proved a strong defence, though perhaps the dump and its camel lines would have been sacrificed. Strict orders were given to the officers in the line that no one was allowed through the line without strict scrutiny, as small bodies of nomadic Arabs acting as spies were always wandering about this neighbourhood. One evening a horseman approached one of our posts and was promptly halted. He was challenged. He argued in his Australian twang that he was friendly, but the officer was adamant and ordered him to advance for further investigation, to which he replied, “Do I look like a —— spy with these 400 —— camels?” and lo! from the darkness in front loomed a silent column of camels which had lost their way when returning from the dump and had not used the recognised gap in the line further to our right flank.

During this week every one wrote letters as it was a doubtful thing when the post would next be sent, once the advance had commenced. Every one rested and no movement by day was encouraged. Such relaxation came as a welcome change after the weeks of hard gruelling, and, to quote the words of our Commander-in-Chief, Field-Marshal Sir Edmund Allenby, on the occasion of his admission to the Freedom of the City of London, when he referred to the 60th Division:—

“Before it attacked Beersheba it was exercising so hard to keep fit that the G.O.C. ordered his men to eat and drink more and not work so hard.”

Not only for purposes of rest, however, was this stay made at Bir Esani. We had left our old line with its water supply many miles away, and it was necessary for the R.E.’s to develop and exploit wells that existed at Abu Ghalyun under the cover of the mounted patrols out to our front.

Our own part of the line was held by “C” and “D” Companies, with “A” and “B” in support. Fortunately the Turk did not trouble us, although a short distance further north a skirmish took place between the 74th Division and the Turk near the Karm-Beersheba road. The enemy was driven off with loss and gave no further trouble. On Sunday evening, the 28th of October, the march was resumed as far as Abu Ghalyun, which lay some seven or eight miles south-west of the Beersheba defences. The march was only a matter of a few miles and was along the level though stony bed of the Wadi Imalaga. The Battalion halted but bivouacs were not erected, and the very minimum of movement was made. It was a glorious day, and final preparations for the attack were made; aeroplane maps were studied and final orders were issued. The Commanding Officer told the Company Commanders, and through the usual channels the real facts of the case were put before the private soldier. Arrangements for transport and water were made, but the great event was the issue of a small bottle of tea and rum to each man. Rum was not a regular issue in this hot climate, but by this time (October) the nights were becoming colder and the light kit worn by the men required something more than keenness to get at the Turk to cheer the dawn, hence the rum and tea. No sign of the enemy was seen this day except two Turkish aeroplanes flying at a great height over the concentration of troops from Karm to Abu Ghalyun, but British air scouts were soon after them and by great skill drove them down. Later, when the plates in their cameras were developed at Cairo, a complete set of photographs showing the concentration of troops was obtained. Had these planes succeeded in reaching their lines our reception at Beersheba might have been even warmer.

On the evening of the 30th, before leaving Abu Ghalyun, the Commanding Officer, Lieut.-Colonel Bisdee addressed the Battalion and in a few words told us what he expected of us. The result was never in doubt, and the regiment rose as one man and cheered him. It is safe to say that at no time previously was the morale of the Battalion so high, and the morrow augured badly for “Jacko,” as the Turk was called. It was our first time “over the top,” as a Battalion, and every man from the Colonel down to the latest-joined private determined to prove that the 2nd Battalion of the Civil Service Rifles was worthy in every way to uphold the traditions of the Regiment, which had been so gloriously upheld in France by the 1st Battalion. The 60th Division had had a great deal of hard work and a rough time with no prospect of glory, but that night it was to start a career of much glory equal to that of any Division in the War.

The first stage of the march towards Beersheba that night was as far as Wadi Mirtaba, where the R.E.’s had developed an efficient water supply a little more than two miles from the Turkish positions. Here the whole of the wheel transport was parked under the cover of the steep banks of the wadi, and the infantry shed their packs and resumed the march in fighting kit. From this point we were only accompanied by camels carrying ammunition and medical and signal stores. A section of the Machine Gun Corps was attached to the Battalion here, for the actual attack.

From this point the Khalasa Road ran direct to Beersheba and formed a splendid guiding line through the wadis and hills on either side. From aeroplane maps sketches of the wadis had been reproduced, and each wadi had been allotted a familiar name; the local Arabic names were far too difficult to memorise. Such names as Service, Scottish, Kensington, Westminster, St. Pancras and Blackheath were given; while each Battalion had named the wadis in their own particular sector by popular names; some of our nicknames were Strand, Dorking, Watford, Walden and Ware Wadis.

About 3,000 yards from the Wadi Mirtaba the Khalasa Road was joined by the Wadi Halgon, and from this point right up to the Turkish trenches they intertwined so much that one could hardly tell whether one was walking on the road or in the wadi; from this fact the quality of the “road” can be best judged.

At night-time the Turks sent out patrols to the hills in advance of the trenches, and from these patrols resistance soon came in the shape of rifle fire, and after sharp skirmishes they were driven back to their lines. The only casualty on our side was a camel belonging to “C” Company. Later machine-gun fire down the road became heavy and the Companies soon got off the road into their prearranged wadis, where protection was good. It might be mentioned here that the wadis in this part were not deep ravines some sixty feet deep, like the Wadis Ghuzze, Imalaga and Mirtaba, which we had passed, but were simply small valleys between the hills, where a dried water-course was termed a “wadi” after the larger variety further south.

The advanced guard was carried out by “D” Company, with orders to reach Poplar Wadi, about 500 yards from the enemy trenches, and to form a defensive line on the ridges on the further side of the Wadi; this was carried out without loss, and strong forward positions were taken up in advance of Poplar Wadi on both sides of the Khalasa Road. Patrols went forward nearly to the enemy lines and were able to ascertain that there were no wire entanglements in front of the enemy position. This information was invaluable to the artillery, as many rounds of ammunition were saved, instead of bombarding imaginary wire. From aeroplane map photographs, definite lines of white spots could be detected in front of the line of trenches, but that night it was proved that they were merely white stones cunningly arranged by the Turk. Throughout the night Turkish machine-gun fire was intermittent and spattered the whole front with bullets. When dawn broke, any advance up the Wadi Halgon was impossible, as it was raked by the fire of two machine guns. Runners kept clear of the road and made their way to the forward companies by rushing over each ridge into the wadi in front. One runner, however, unaware of the dangers of the Wadi Halgon, calmly strolled along in the early morning and of course, drew violent fire both from machine guns and rifles on to his tracks, and after a certain amount of dancing about he fell down. Every one thought he had been hit, but Captain Wills, regardless of his personal safety, dashed from the cover of the Wadi and ran out to the man. This again was the cause of a further hail of bullets, and Wills fell down near the man. Thinking that both of them were dead the Turks ceased fire, but a moment or two later Captain Wills got up and made a successful dash for safety in the wadi, and although the Turks reopened their fire they did not hit Wills, who was no worse for his adventures. The man, inspired by Wills, got up a few minutes later, and also made a dash for our wadi, through a hail of bullets. Now comes the amusing side of the incident. The breathless runner handed us a note, and when it was opened the following words were exposed: “What time shall the platoon drink its rum and tea? ——, Lieutenant, Officer Commanding —— Platoon, ‘C’ Company.” Needless to say no reply was sent to this request.

ROUGH SKETCH MAP “BEERSHABA-HUJ” OPERATIONS. OCTOBER-NOVEMBER —(1917)—

So much for the events of the night and early morning in the Wadi Halgon.

In the general scheme it was arranged that the 181st Brigade on the left of the 179th Brigade, should attack and capture the strongly fortified hill known as “Hill 1,070,” which towered up in advance of the general line of the Beersheba defences. Not until this hill was captured was the main attack to be made.

As soon after dawn as light permitted, the operation of wire-cutting on the enemy’s advanced works on Hill 1,070 was commenced by the Artillery and was continued, with short checks owing to dust clouds, until 8.30 a.m., when the 181st Brigade moved to the attack, which was undertaken by the 2/22nd and 2/24th Battalions, London Regiment, under cover of an intense barrage and overhead machine-gun fire.

At 8.42 a.m. the positions were entered and captured, the Artillery lifting on to the reverse slopes.

During this phase the 179th Brigade, led by the 2/14th and 2/15th Battalions were gradually moving forward for the attack on the main positions in conjunction with the 181st Brigade. At 10 a.m. the latter had reorganised and were reported ready for the next phase, which was preceded by wire-cutting on the part of the Artillery. This having been completed by 11 a.m., orders were received from the 20th Corps for the assault to take place in conjunction with the 74th Division on the left at 12.15 p.m. By 12.45 p.m. the whole of the enemy main positions were in our hands, and our left artillery group were left free to assist the attack of the 74th Division, who were slightly checked on our left.

While the operations against Hill 1,070 were proceeding the Battalion formed up under cover for their attack; and orders had been previously issued to “D” Company in the advanced positions that should the Turk leave his trenches on our direct front, as the result of the attack on Hill 1,070, he was to be pursued with fire. Odd men had been seen to retire, and the message came through that the Turks were retiring, and “D” Company lined their ridge and poured fire into the enemy trenches. However, the message of the Turks’ retirement which came from a rear observation post was not quite correct, and was far too sanguine. The retirement was not so wholesale as had been anticipated, and the Turk returned strong retaliatory fire. “D” Company stuck to their positions, and although suffering heavy casualties, continued to fire at the Turks in the trenches. While this battle of cross fire was proceeding, orders for the general advance were given, and, under the covering fire of the advanced company, the attacking Companies “B” and “C,” with “A” Company in immediate support, rushed the enemy’s line. In spite of heavy opposition no one hesitated, and the attackers assaulted and captured the trenches, killing the occupants and pursuing with fire those who had retired. The Turks fired until the very last moment, and when our fellows were within bayoneting distance held up their hands and cried “Kamerad” or “Arab.” They were poorly clad, and apparently the sprinkling of German N.C.O.’s had kept up their morale until the sight of our bayonets. By 12.45 p.m. the position was in our hands, and a line some 800 yards beyond the trenches was immediately consolidated. Patrols pushed forward, but little was seen of the Turk; only small groups could be seen in the distance running away as fast as their legs could take them.

In clearing the trenches to our right flank, Private E. J. Cook, “C” Company, the last unwounded member of his Lewis gun team, greatly distinguished himself. Crawling out of the trench he engaged a German-manned machine gun point-blank, and although the Lewis gun was hit and he was twice severely wounded, he continued to serve his gun until the enemy gun was knocked out, whereupon it was promptly captured by a bombing party.

The cavalry who had worked around the flank from the east of Beersheba occupied the town that evening, and the Reserve Battalions of the 60th Division were sent forward to cover our front.

The conclusion of the day’s planned operations was marked by the concentration of the attacking Brigades in the captured positions, with outposts pushed out on the high ground overlooking Beersheba. The 2/13th (Kensingtons) which had been detailed for this duty in our Brigade succeeded in capturing two 77mm. guns which had been causing us casualties earlier in the day.

To return to the actual attack by the Civil Service Rifles, the whole operation had been a great success, and in spite of considerable casualties the losses could not be considered too heavy. “D” Company, the advanced Company, had suffered most while giving support to the attacking Companies. “C” Company had the next highest total, as it was their misfortune to advance over the machine-gun swept valley of the Wadi Halgon. The casualties in “B” Company were much lighter, as they were able to use the cover of the small branch nullahs in their advance. “A” Company had very few casualties, but this does not reflect that they did not do their share; it was their fortune. The whole Battalion had at last been able to display its fighting qualities in a real attack. The Battalion’s captures included three officers and over 50 men, while more than sixty dead Turks were buried by us afterwards in their old trenches.

An amusing incident of the final scene of the attack was when the stentorian voice of one of the sergeants of “C” Company was heard during the lull in the rifle fire, shouting, “All officers and sergeants”—an order which had palled on our ears at the close of the numerous practice attacks during our training on the desert.

The evening was quiet enough and the Battalion was not worried by Turkish artillery fire, and it was only an hour after the success of the attack was known, when the Battalion transport under Lieutenant Pearson and the water camels under Lieutenant Gearing arrived from their hiding-place in the Wadi Mirtaba, where we had left them the previous evening. Souvenir-hunting in the Turkish lines was our evening pastime; but not until search parties had found and collected all the killed and wounded and every man was accounted for.

The night was cold, but men availed themselves of the protection of the trenches, and some of the more fortunate succeeded in obtaining captured tents and bivouac sheets; but these were unpleasant dwellings and smelt horribly. With the dead Turks lying around, the whole place was no health resort. The Turk was a filthy fellow, as his trenches showed, and the whole area was infested with flies. The next day the dead Turks were collected and buried in their trenches. The British guns had fired with great accuracy into the trenches, and in one instance had knocked out a machine gun and its team of eight men.

On the 1st of November the infantry were employed in clearing the battlefield while the 519 Field Company, R.E., entered the town of Beersheba soon after dawn for the purpose of water development.

The captures by the 60th Division included two 77 mm. guns, many machine guns, 15 officers and 193 other ranks unwounded, and 5 officers and 85 other ranks wounded.

On the morning of the 3rd of November the Battalion moved to the valley on the south-eastern outskirts of the town. The whole valley was crowded with British troops and transport. Beersheba as a town appeared to be of little value, but its importance as a stronghold on the flank of the Turkish line was considerable. Water was obtained from the wells which had been quickly repaired by the R.E.; the Turk having blown up the winding gear before he left. In the town, prisoner of war compounds were established, while a still larger compound for the natives and Arabs of the surrounding district was made in the valley outside the town.

The soil of the valley where there is some moisture is exceedingly rich and is rudely cultivated by the natives, and in the tracks around Beersheba the Bedouin find ample pasturage for their flocks and herds which in the evening assemble around the wells as they did 3,000 years ago. The desert of Beersheba is very beautiful in spring and early summer when the surface is carpeted with herbage and flowers; but later in the year it is parched and desolate in the extreme, not a tree breaking the monotony of the landscape or the rays of the sun. It was in the latter state when we arrived.

On the evening of the 3rd of November the Battalion moved again to Bargut, some two miles or more north of the town of Beersheba, but were not privileged to pass through the town; passing it on its western outskirts. At Bargut a bivouac camp was erected, and the Quartermaster’s Stores and transport sections moved with us. Officers were allowed the benefit of their valises which had been reduced to 25 lb. in weight, and blankets were issued to the men.

Meals were soon prepared, and a day of complete rest away from the filth of the Turkish trenches was thoroughly enjoyed by all.

At this time it had become apparent to the Higher Command that the enemy had been able to anticipate our threat of enveloping his left flank, by a concentration of his reserves on the high ground in the neighbourhood of Khuweilfeh. The Corps Commander therefore decided to throw our whole weight upon the centre of the Turkish defences represented by the Kauwukah system and a series of works extending some 5,000 yards to the east, and at the same time occupying the enemy’s left flank by the employment of the 53rd Division and mounted troops at Khuweilfeh.

Accordingly the 60th Division moved over in the direction of Kauwukah on the 4th of November, the Battalion moving to Wadi Welfare, a distance of 7 or 8 miles as the crow flies. This was a most trying march over sandy desert and the sand was not of that “golden” type which one associates with the east when reading books, but was of a dirty black variety, and our memories went back to that first dusty march from Belah to Abu Sitta some months previously. Every one was covered with black dust, and eyes and nostrils became unbearable. Water was limited and the day’s supply had not been received before starting. The water camels had returned to Beersheba, but here the supply was insufficient, and they were re-directed to Abu Irgeig, which was about 7 miles in the direction of Gaza, and in quite a different direction to that taken by the Brigade.

The ground over which we travelled was extremely hilly, and the Battalion constantly descended into deep wadis and ascended over the steep ridges for practically the whole of the last four miles. It was getting dark, and the difficulties were tremendous, and credit is due to those responsible that the various battalions of the Division ever found their allotted areas, most of which were in the beds of deep wadis. The Battalion halted about 10.0 p.m., and an outpost line covering the Divisional front was taken up by the 181st Brigade. No water, however, was obtainable. All we knew was that the camels had gone back as far as Beersheba, and knowing the difficulties of the march that we had encountered, the possibility of the camels arriving that night appeared remote. However, shortly after midnight a small voice was heard on the surrounding heights, “Who is down there?” “2/15th,” we shouted. “Thank God,” uttered the small voice, “How the devil do you get down there?” No one could say how we had got down into this basin-like dip, in the darkness it appeared to be surrounded by steep cliffs. The small voice was heard no more, but an hour afterwards the swishing of the water in the “Fanatis” was heard approaching along a branch wadi, and Lieutenant Gearing appeared, followed by his convoy of water camels and their weary leaders. How this officer performed the journey that night from Bargut to Beersheba and thence to Abu Irgeig—where water was drawn—and eventually across the wilderness to the Battalion, which was concealed in one of the many holes in the ground, is beyond imagination. The water camels, with their officer and his Company guides had dragged over a distance of at least 15 miles in the dark. Even Gearing himself cannot explain; in fact, he never attempted, and “Sparrow,” as our tiny water officer was called, simply grinned and felt pleased. There were heroes in the battle of Beersheba, but no one was so deservedly popular as Gearing that night. He had done great things through sheer grit, where thousands would have failed (and not without reason). Great was the relief on the arrival of the water camels, and then our minds turned to the transport and Quartermaster’s stores with its precious rations which had not yet arrived. However, ere long the voice of Lieutenant Pearson (not a small one this time) was heard, and we knew that the “gods” were with us. The route taken by the Battalion had been impossible for wheeled transport, and it had been diverted some four miles back on to a different track. Even this second route was extremely difficult, but the transport section “stuck to their guns,” and after a somewhat lengthy and tedious journey had struck the Battalion. It was simply a matter of “striking,” too. Maps were indistinct, and in the darkness every wadi is a replica of its neighbour; signposts were badly needed in these parts. However, daylight came, and this put a better complexion on the state of affairs.

Officers were called to Headquarters and given details of our next attack which was to be against the centre of the Turkish line in Palestine, at a place called Kauwukah. The rest of the day was spent in reconnaissance of the ground. Landmarks were few, but all hoped for the best, and compass bearings were taken. Final preparations were made in the evening and rations were issued. Water again presented a difficulty, as the wells at Abu Irgeig had run dry, but it was hoped that the R.E. would open up a new source during the night.

CHAPTER XXXIV
KAUWUKAH AND RUSHDI SYSTEMS—ATTACK—SHERIA—MUNTARET—HUJ—NEJILEH—AND TO GAZA VIA SHERIA

The position to be attacked was on the high ground at Khirbit Kauwukah, just north of the Beersheeba-Gaza Railway and south of Sheria. This was an extensive stretch of trenches about four miles long, which faced south-west from near Samarra Bridge to Abu Heirira on the Wadi Sheria. The left of this trench system was swung round forming a strong defensive flank facing south-east, and it was against this flank that the 60th Division was to make its attack. In front of our objectives stretched an open plain for over a mile and, of course, formed an excellent field of fire for the defenders.

The general plan of attack consisted of an enfilade assault from the east to be started by the 74th Division on our right attacking and rolling up the enemy’s works east of the actual Kauwukah System, followed by our own Division which was to operate against the main defences with one Brigade of the 10th Division on our left; each Division being echeloned back from the right.

Careful arrangements were necessary with regard to the timing of the advance of each Division in order to safeguard the possibility of the troops of the 60th and 10th Divisions being enfiladed from the enemy’s works to be attacked by the 74th Division before the latter had accounted for them.

By the flanking attack it was hoped that the 10th Division on our left would reach the Abu Heirira Redoubt, a strongly-fortified mound on the edge of the Wadi Sheria. In the 179th Brigade the Westminsters and Kensingtons were to form the attacking Battalions and the Civil Service were to be in support; the Brigade Reserve being the London Scottish. A second Brigade of the Division, the 180th Brigade with the London Irish (21/8th) and the St. Pancras (2/19th) Battalions as attacking Battalions were to push forward on our right. The 181st Brigade, of Hill 1,070 fame, being the Divisional Reserve. After the first lines of the enemy’s works had been captured, it was intended that the 2/15th and the 2/19th Battalions should continue the advance and take the rest of the Kauwukah System in enfilade as far as the Rushdi System which adjoined just on the banks of the Wadi Sheria; while the Battalions of the 10th Division on our left should concentrate their energies on the strong redoubt at Abu Heirira, and thus complete the capture of the Turkish positions from the east as far as the Wadi Sheria.

During the night of the 5/6th of November, 1917, the Battalion moved from the Wadi Welfare to its position of assembly preparatory to the opening of the action by the 74th Division on our right at 5.0 a.m. The position of assembly was some two miles south-east of the left flank of the Kauwukah System, and under cover of the undulating ground we waited for the result of the 74th Divisional attack. One thing which worried us, however, was the fact that our water supply had not yet reached us; the camels which had left for Abu Irgeig on the previous evening had not been heard of since. Just as every one gave up hope Gearing and his camels appeared over the crest in front. Here was another adventure of our camel officer. Finding no water at Abu Irgeig, and learning that some was obtainable nearer Beersheba, Gearing trudged back, got the water, and then made a “bee-line” for the Kauwukah System along the Beersheba-Gaza Railway line. True, the route was well defined on the map, but when one thinks of the journey back towards Beersheba from Abu Irgeig wells is a matter of about eight miles, and after that a night march of ten miles towards Kauwukah on the return, it was a grand performance and an exhibition of determination for which Gearing deserved praise. He had apparently arrived at the position of assembly just previous to the Battalion, and seeing no Battalion he had pushed on towards the Turks, and when dawn came, seeing nothing in front of him, decided to return, and luckily met us at the appointed place. Water was quickly issued, and every one was relieved for at least 24 hours.

Being in reserve is always a weary job and always one of anxiety; if all goes well in front it is easy; but should things go all wrong it is horrible. During the early morning the 74th Division had gained their objectives, and by 8.0 a.m. it was decided to commence operations on our Divisional front. An artillery bombardment of the Turkish trenches was commenced, and the Battalions deployed for the attack. However, from observation it was seen that much of the strong barbed-wire entanglements in front of the Turkish lines was still uncut, and it was decided that two batteries of R.F.A. should go forward and cut the wire at point blank range. By this time the Westminsters on our direct front had advanced to the ridge overlooking the plain in front of the enemy’s trenches, and were suffering many casualties. Suddenly, in rear of our Battalion large clouds of dust were seen, and from these clouds came galloping two batteries of artillery. On they galloped through the extended lines of the Battalion which lay in support near the railway bridge at Samarra, and over the ridge in front until they gained the open plain. Here they unlimbered their guns and opened a rapid rate of fire on the Turkish lines. The battery horses at once returned back over the ridge for cover from the heavy shower of shrapnel which was coming from the enemy gunners. The teams returned at the gallop, but many horses were riderless and teams were often dragging one of their number either dead or wounded. In front of the ridge, in full view of the enemy, the two batteries continued to pour fire on the Turkish entanglements. They were paying for their gallantry, and many wounded artillery officers and men crawled back over the ridge to receive medical attention at the advanced dressing station that had been erected at Samarra Bridge, under cover of the embankment. Only a few men finally remained with the guns, and under the command of a corporal—who afterwards received the D.C.M.—they continued to successfully carry out the cutting of the wire. The whole incident was an inspiration to the infantry, and the gallantry of our brothers in the gunners encouraged us in our attack, which commenced to push forward about midday. The Battalion followed closely on the heels of the Westminsters, with “D” Company leading. Extended order with lines about 70 yards intervals in depth was the formation adopted. Once over the ridge the Battalion came under heavy machine-gun fire and also a shrapnel barrage. But just ahead we could see the Westminsters pushing on towards the trench line which was strongly garrisoned, and with a final rush at 1.0 p.m. they captured their objective. The Battalions on their flanks had also succeeded, and the first lines were won. Without a moment’s delay we, together with the 2/19th on our right, pursued the enemy and captured many lines of trenches without a great deal of opposition. Occasionally a machine-gun would hold us up for a few minutes, but it was soon out-flanked and the line advanced again. All resistance was broken down and the garrisons killed or put to flight. Not until the whole of the Kauwukah and Rushdi systems were in British hands did the Battalion halt, and then finally took up a position overlooking the Wadi Sheria about 2.0 p.m. in the afternoon.

A defensive line in the vacated trenches was made, and in the distance across the valley of the wadi columns of Turks with their transport could be seen hurrying to get out of range of our artillery fire. The whole attack had been successful and our casualties were comparatively light. Great losses had been inflicted on the enemy, and many prisoners were captured. The comparative lightness of our casualties was probably largely due to wide extensions and also to the élan displayed by all ranks who, once they got in close touch with the enemy, pursued him relentlessly, giving him no time to develop counter-attacks or occupy a fresh line of resistance.

The flanking attack of the 60th Division had swept forward over the trenches and the 10th Division on our left altered their direction slightly and concentrated on the Heirira Redoubt, which consisted of a large mound literally honeycombed with trenches and machine-gun emplacements. On the Battalion front things soon quieted down, but on the right flank of the Division the Turk had concentrated and was strongly resisting the British advance towards Sheria Railway Station.

At 3.30 p.m. on the 6th of November orders were received from the XXth Corps to establish a strong bridgehead across the Wadi Sheria in order to secure the water supply; the 10th Division being ordered to relieve the 60th Division in the captured works.

Accordingly the 180th and 181st Brigades were ordered to advance and form a bridgehead north of Sheria in order to attain that object, and were supported by the Divisional artillery, the 179th Brigade remaining in Divisional Reserve. The 74th Division were ordered to operate on our right, with their left resting on Khirbit Barrata. At 5.30 p.m. one Company from the 180th Brigade had captured Sheria Railway Station, securing some prisoners and two machine-guns, while two Battalions from each Brigade prepared to cross the Wadi Sheria and occupy Tel el Sheria, the high ground north of the town.

Before evacuating Sheria Station, however, the enemy had succeeded in firing a large ammunition dump south of the station which commenced to explode just previous to the launching of the attack. The conflagration raged for some hours, and so illuminated the country in the vicinity that further progress was rendered temporarily impossible. Nevertheless, the ground over which the attack was to be made was carefully reconnoitred, and at 3.30 a.m. on the 7th the attack was launched by the 2/17th and 2/20th Battalions of the 180th Brigade west of the Railway, and the 181st Brigade was represented by the 2/22nd and 2/23rd Battalions east of the railway.

The enemy offered a determined resistance, but by 4.30 a.m. our objectives were gained. During this part of the day’s operations our captures included 4 field guns, 4 machine-guns and over 150 prisoners. The Turks were disinclined to accept their defeat without further efforts, and at 9.25 a.m. developed a strong counter attack against the line now held by the 180th Brigade, but this was effectively broken up by concentrated machine-gun, Lewis gun and rifle fire, assisted by the supporting artillery, with great loss to the enemy.

During the foregoing operations the 2/15th Battalion in common with the remainder of the 179th Brigade had handed over their captures in the Kauwukah and Rushdi systems to the 10th Division and were brought back a few miles and remained for the night of the 6/7th of November in reserve near Sammara Bridge. Little rest, however, was possible, as the weather was extremely cold. The next morning was spent in reorganising after the previous day’s attack, and in the early afternoon we were ordered to move to the Wadi Sheria.

About 4 p.m. on the 7th the Battalion, with the London Scottish on its left, moved forward from a ridge on the eastern side of the valley of the Wadi, “B” Company under Captain Lewis leading. While moving across the open we were heavily shelled. After crossing the Wadi, however, the advance was pressed, and after considerable opposition and stubborn fighting the enemy was driven back and we established an outpost line on the high ground west of the Wadi. During this advance “B” Company, as advance guard, had engaged a considerable force of Turks, but led by the personal dash of their Company Commander, they pushed forward and inflicted severe losses on the enemy. The Battalion soon followed up and passed over a large Turkish camp where “B” Company had captured an anti-aircraft gun, and the night was spent in digging in. Patrols pushed forward, but no sign of the Turk was found. Taking up this line ended the second phase of our operations in Palestine. Beersheba and Sheria had fallen under the pressure of the 60th Division. The following summary from Divisional Headquarters on the attacks on Kauwukah and Sheria defences will no doubt be interesting.

“The total prisoners at the end of this stage amounted to 31 officers and 521 men. During the whole of the day the Division was engaged in severe local fighting, while at times the hostile shell fire, especially in the afternoon, was particularly troublesome, the Turkish command obviously realising the importance of denying us access to the water supply in the Wadi Sheria. It afterwards transpired from prisoners’ statements that picked troops had been hastily formed into composite units and entrusted with the defence of the position. The large number of enemy regiments represented among the prisoners lent colour to these assertions, the opposing commanders doubtless fully realising the vital importance of delaying our advance at this point in order subsequently to secure the exposed flank of the retreating Gaza garrison.”

On the following morning, the 8th of November, the situation had sufficiently cleared for an advance to be made upon Huj, a few miles north-east of Gaza, where it was thought there would be an efficient water supply. Transport and water camels had joined the Battalion, and we were complete to move off about 7 a.m. Cavalry patrols were sent forward to gain touch with the enemy, who was retiring with all speed. The ground was undulating grassland with an occasional outcrop of sandy desert, and movement was fairly easy. The 179th Brigade formed the advance guard of the Division, having the 2/15th Civil Service and 2/14th London Scottish as its leading Battalions and covering a wide front. Instructions were issued to advance towards the high ground near Khirbit Muntaret, which was known to be occupied by the enemy. For several hours under glorious weather conditions the Brigade pushed forward across the undulating country and found no signs of the enemy except his numerous dumps which he had left hurriedly behind him. About 10 a.m. cavalry patrols brought in information to the effect that the enemy was strongly entrenched on the high ground on the north of the village of Muntaret, and the Battalion was deployed for attack. There was a considerable force of Turks near Muntaret and they were well supported by artillery. The Battalion, having “C” Company under Captain Wills for their advanced guard, opened out into irregular artillery formation or, in other words, “blobs” of Platoons at 150 yards interval. The approach to Muntaret was over an open stretch of country, and while going over the ground the Battalion came under very heavy artillery fire, and suffered considerable casualties. “C” Company soon opened out into extended order and advanced to the bottom of Muntaret Hill which was steep and, except for a small ravine a few feet deep, offered little cover. In spite of the machine-gun and rifle fire from the trenches, “C” Company crept up the hill for the final assault, and within a few hundred yards of the enemy the men took off their packs and prepared for their final charge. Led by Captain Wills, they captured the position (thus forestalling the cavalry, whose objective it had been), while the London Scottish on their left made a flank attack on the position at the same time. The rest of the Battalion soon followed on to the ridge, having also dumped their packs at the foot of the hill. However, the Turkish artillery continued to heavily bombard the captured position, and it was necessary to dig in and consolidate. Further advance was impossible across the plain west of Muntaret, and any attempt to cross the plain would mean considerable casualties from shell fire. The G.-O.-C. Division, Major-General Shea, came up and ordered the Worcester and Warwick Yeomanry to charge the Turkish batteries which were holding up our advance. None of us had had the fortune to see the Balaclava Charge in the Crimean War, but it was our privilege to see a similar type of gallantry, and I insert here an account from a newspaper cutting of the charge.

“On November the 8th the Londoners while occupying a ridge less than two miles from the enemy lines, came under extremely heavy gun fire. Meanwhile the Yeomanry had come up. The Londoners’ commander, who had seen the whole enemy’s position and their guns, ordered the Yeomanry to charge them. There were 10 troops of Worcester and Warwick Yeomanry, commanded by a Colonel, Master of Hounds.

“He and his men swept over the ridge in successive lines about 2,000 yards from the enemy, raced down the slope across the flat, partly obscured by a mound in front. Over this rise the yeomen spurred their chargers, took the final rise at a terrific pace, the ranks somewhat thinned by gun, machine-gun and rifle fire, which the enemy switched off the Londoners soon after trails of dust told of advancing cavalry.

“The cavalry’s target was not so much the infantry as the guns. Giving full-throated cheers they went straight for the field and heavy pieces. There were 12 guns in action against these valiant boys from the Shires—nine German-made field guns and three 5·9 howitzers. The field guns banged as fast as the Austrian and German gun crews could load them, but every enemy artillery man was sabred by his piece. The Londoners heard the fire of all the guns stop dead almost at the same moment.”

After witnessing this magnificent feat of arms and benefiting by the resulting “cease fire” from the Turkish guns, a hasty meal was taken and a short halt was made. Later on in the afternoon under the protection of the London Scottish as advanced guard, the Brigade pushed forward in the direction of Huj. The 2/14th breasted the high ground at Tor Dimrah, near Huj, about 4.50 p.m. in the evening of the 8th of November, and were soon followed by the rest of the Brigade. It will thus be seen that between 3 a.m. on the 6th of November and 4.50 p.m. on the 8th, the Division marched 23½ miles, in the course of which advance the Kauwukah and Rushdi systems of defensive works were captured, the bridgehead at Sheria stormed, a determined counter attack repulsed, and the Turkish rearguard driven from Muntaret to beyond Huj, entailing attacks upon three defensive positions on the way.

The total captures by the Division in the whole operations amounted to 12 guns, 26 machine-guns, 51 officers and 907 other ranks.

The following newspaper extract, I think, might be included here without any shadow of a boast, and summarises our doings from the commencement of the Palestine campaign.

“The achievements of the London Territorials, who had the hardest part to do in the thrust from our right flank, will rank in the deeds of the war. A distinguished officer of my acquaintance, who has seen nearly three years of war in France and watched every movement of the London County Territorials here, told me that he could not speak of these warriors without a lump rising in his throat. This is his considered judgment:—

“‘These Cockneys are the best men in the world. Their spirits are simply wonderful. I don’t think any division ever went into a big show with higher morale. After three years of war it was refreshing to hear the men’s earnestly expressed desire to get into action again. These grand fellows went forward with the full bloom upon them. There never was any hesitation. Their discipline was absolutely perfect, and their physique, and courage alike magnificent. Their valour was beyond words. The Cockney makes the perfect soldier.’”

In eight days the men marched 66 miles and fought a number of hot actions. The march may not seem long, but Palestine is not Salisbury Plain.

On reaching Tor Dimrah near Huj on the evening of the 8th of November, the Battalion was bivouacked on the grassy slopes and waited for water and rations to be brought up from Sheria. During the evening a large British bombing squadron of some 30 planes flew over our heads and no doubt dropped their missiles with great effect on the columns of retreating Turks fleeing northwards.

Late at night water and rations arrived and these, together with cigarettes made from dried tea leaves, helped every one to retire for the night satisfied with the day’s work.

For the next two days we remained here and the Battalion was reorganised; transport came up from Sheria and fatigue parties were sent back to Muntaret for the packs which we had dumped just before the attack; while others had been left as far back as Sheria by “C” Company who it will be remembered started off from the Sheria Wadi as an advance guard. Unfortunately the water supply at Huj was not so promising as expected and the damage done to the wells by the retreating Turk did not help matters. Horses and mules were sent out in all directions without finding a sufficient supply and lack of water became so acute that the Artillery men near by sacrificed their own limited supply for their horses. The difficulty of our own transport is best described by the following letter from Lieutenant Pearson, our transport officer at the time:

“On one occasion we left the lines at 5.30 a.m. with the animals to go about 10 miles for water, and had to be back ready to move off at 2.30 p.m. When we arrived at the given place there were several thousands of Australian Cavalry horses, artillery horses, and several infantry units, animals with only one 30-foot long portable trough. The Australians’ horses had not had any water for over 36 hours, so you can imagine there was no system or order, the horses could not be held back. We had to return without watering, and arrived back at 2 p.m. In the meantime, the Battalion had received further orders to the effect that they would not move until next day. After feeding the animals, and after the men had had a snack, we were told there was a well near at hand. We went in search and found it was about 60 feet deep and had to pull up a bucketful at a time by means of a long rope; anyway, we arrived back at 1.30 a.m. The men and animals only having had one meal at midday between 5.30 a.m. and 1.30 a.m. the next day. We moved off at 8.30 a.m. the same morning.”

The foregoing incident actually occurred while we were at Tor Dimrah on November 9th, 1917.

From the heights at Tor Dimrah the result of our recent fighting could be well appreciated. A few miles to the south-west could be seen the town of Gaza, the scene of heavy fighting some months previously, while to the west stretched the coastal plain which ran up country as far as Jaffa. Frontal attacks on Gaza had proved unsuccessful earlier in the year, and therefore General Allenby decided to attack from a flank. The line of attack commenced at Beersheba and was made in a north-westerly direction, rolling up the Turkish line from the east, and hoping at the same time to reach the north of Gaza in time to cut off the garrison. While this flank movement was in progress local frontal raids on Gaza were made under heavy artillery bombardments from both land and sea. However, the Turkish leaders were able to thwart the full intention of the scheme and by their strong resistance, by powerful flank guards at Kauwukah, Sheria and Muntaret, were enabled to give time for their troops at Gaza to retire north with minimum losses. However, as soon as the Gaza front gave way, the XXIst Corps under our old Divisional Commander, General E. S. Bulfin, relentlessly pursued the Turks as far as Jaffa.

Except for the 53rd Division, our own Corps, the XXth, was withdrawn from the pursuit and, in order to assist the advance, much of our corps transport was lent to the XXIst Corps. The 53rd Division just mentioned had been kept at Khuweilfeh just north of Beersheba since the beginning of the offensive, and had fought manfully against repeated attacks and thereby protected the right flank of our advance across Palestine.

On the 11th of November the Battalion moved a few miles north-east to the Wadi Jemmemiah where the whole of the surrounding country was covered with well planned trenches and all the valleys covered with machine-gun emplacements; but the numerous ammunition dumps round about signified how hastily the Turk had withdrawn without making a strong resistance. Only a day was spent here, and on the 13th we moved still farther north to Nejilah; a pleasant spot after the filth and dust which existed around Jemmeniah. The route was lined with large collections of war material which had been left by the retreating Turk and everywhere was desolate and uninviting. Not until a mile or so from Nejilah did the scenery improve and then a stretch of undulating grassland presented itself; a restful change for our tired eyes after a lengthy stay on the glaring yellow desert. A few flocks of sheep strayed over the pastureland and the quaintly dressed shepherds, at last, presented to us a fair representation of Biblical Palestine as we had imagined it in our youth. This was the first clean, healthy spot, free from sand and the filth which the Turks always left behind them, we had struck since our arrival at Belah.

For three days the Battalion remained here on these grassy hill-sides overlooking a wide plain of pasture land to the north. Just near the camping ground a stream of crystal clear water flowed and bathing parades were again indulged in. To give the Britisher his due, he does love cleanliness and even through the recent advance most of the men had used a portion of their limited ration for purposes of shaving, although a proper wash was out of the question. No parades were ordered and a restful time was spent at Nejilah. However, difficulties arose with regard to supplies; much of our corps transport having been lent to the other corps pursuing the enemy. Consequently the Battalion was ordered to return to Sheria.

As I have already said the Turk revelled in filth and pollution, and no better illustration could be seen than the Sheria area where he had apparently had a large base camp since the early days of the war. For miles around Sheria the place literally stank and flies were present in their millions. The ground was strewn with dead Turks, camels, horses and mules, and the presence of these carcasses did not improve the polluted atmosphere. However, the desert was expansive and camps were arranged as far from this debris as possible.

While we had been fighting during the past few weeks miracles had been performed by the A.S.C. and R.E. The former corps had worked well and supply dumps had been advanced with rapidity; camel and horse transport working in conjunction with the railways in the captured area. The latter corps had repaired the Turkish railways and used the captured rolling stock to good purpose; other sections of R.E.’s had exploited the wells and obtained good supplies of water in the Wadi Sheria.

November the 17th, just after the arrival in the Sheria area, was known as “Parcel Day”: it was the first post since our departure from our desert line on the Wadi Ghuzze. Not only letters arrived but huge bags of parcels; nearly every man received a parcel. The owners of many, however, were not to be found; some had given their lives for their country while others had been sent to base hospitals either wounded or sick. But each platoon or mess made short work of these and divided the spoil; it was an unwritten law and not stealing. Luxuries were plentiful and hundreds of tea parties and dinner parties were held that evening. Every unit, however, has its “grousers,” not that they mean any harm, but it is their privilege as British Tommies. They could not legitimately grouse this night with all the good things around so they turned their morbid thoughts to treks and predicted a move on the morrow, when every one would be laden with luxuries. Their prophecies came true and the following morning camp was struck and the Battalion marched towards Gaza as far as Muntaret. On the 19th of November the march was resumed to the outskirts of the town of Gaza. The day’s march was not a great distance but the downpour of heavy rain in the evening drenched all. This was the commencement of the rainy season in Palestine.

CHAPTER XXXV
THE MARCH FROM GAZA UP COUNTRY—ENAB—THE CAPTURE OF JERUSALEM—TEL-EL-FUL—BIREH.

At Gaza the Battalion bivouacked just to the north of the town. “Town” was perhaps a complimentary term for Gaza at that time, for it was in a deplorable state. The proud town of the Philistines and the scene of Samson’s deathly triumph had been most thoroughly treated to every type of missile known to the British forces, from rifle bullet to the 12-inch naval projectile, and there was ample evidence of the efficacy of that treatment. Scarcely a whole wall remained, big gun emplacements built of concrete and iron rails, though skilfully hidden, had been utterly destroyed and most of the trenches flattened out. Before these had stood formidable obstacles in the shape of cactus hedges, which had proved themselves more efficient than any barbed wire, but what remained of these was liberally sprinkled with shrapnel holes. In short, Gaza had been made as unhealthy as it was possible for us to have made it, and at last the Turk had been made to quit, though not without a struggle.

Through the centre of the town a clearing had been made and the broad-gauge railway was being rapidly advanced. The methods of the R.E. railway construction companies are well worth a short description. They were the essence of efficiency. First the R.E. officer with a few satellites carrying the necessary instruments would prospect and decide the direction of the line, and he was quickly followed by a large gang of the Egyptian Labour Corps who, armed with a tool similar to an adze, but without that instrument’s sharp edge, and a bag similar to a carpenter’s, would immediately set to work to clear the ground and make the necessary cutting or embankment. The sight of some hundreds of these natives swarming over the position was exactly like an overturned ant-hill. Every one seemed to run in different directions, and to the uninitiated confusion appeared to reign supreme, but the work was completed at a pace which would have made a “ca’canny” trade union delegate weep with anguish. When the necessary alteration to the landscape had been effected more labourers would appear, each carrying a huge railway sleeper which was dumped roughly in position, later to be arranged properly and levelled by soldier platelayers. This work was no sooner completed than lengths of rail were dumped upon and quickly secured to the sleepers by means of fish-spikes. The rails were then trimmed, levelled and bolted together and very shortly afterwards were being used by the construction train, which with its supply of material, could thus closely follow the quickly moving construction gangs. The “permanent” way thus made could not, it is true, attempt to rival that to which we were accustomed, but an adequate supply of transport was absolutely necessary for the success of the E.E.F. at that time, and in those days no branch of the Services worked more quickly or efficiently than the railway construction companies to maintain the supply line.

After a short rest at Gaza we commenced our march northwards on the 19th of November, 1917. Our actual destination was unknown, but the “lying jade” had been busy and the magical word “Jerusalem” was ever on her lips. Private soldiers or humble subalterns do not presume to understand the ways of an Army Commander. They have, in the famous game of war, not even the status of a pawn, but nevertheless are for ever weighing the pros and cons of each and every movement they are required to make and thus if anyone had, but two short months ago, been rash enough to suggest that Beersheba was the opening move of a game that was to end in the capture of the Holy City, they would have suggested that the unfortunate one had been disobeying divisional orders and by not wearing his helmet had caught a touch of the sun. But the situation had rapidly changed since the dreary days of the Gambli defences, and Jerusalem was in fact well within our reach. True it was that our grip had not been closed upon it, but the days of the Turk in the home of Christianity were for ever numbered.

Rain had fallen heavily for a short time during our stay at Gaza and though its advent had been a welcome change we later had cause to regret the hot sunny days of the Sinai Desert. The flat coastal plain which runs north from Gaza has been cultivated land ever since Biblical times, and is the most fertile spot in the whole of Palestine, and in consequence the most thickly populated, though the total number in the whole land, apart from the cities such as Gaza, Jaffa, Ludd and Jerusalem, would disgrace a small English county. A plentiful crop of barley which had been grown had been recently cut; indeed rumour had it that a famous “Scotch” whisky firm had nearly failed owing to the lack of supplies from Palestine! The course of our march was set through fields of stubble. When it was hot and dry, there arose stifling clouds of dust, and when wet the sticky nature of the ground could even bring a “caterpillar tractor” to a standstill. The change, however, from endless sand was at first welcome and we found great delight in passing through the native villages. These were amazing collections of mud huts, windows were unknown and of sanitary arrangements there were none; yet the inhabitants though inexpressibly dirty seemed quite happy and contented with their lot. When opportunity arose we supplemented our meagre rations by purchasing eggs, figs, nuts and oranges. The last named were most welcome. We had seen no vegetables for months and the supply of fruit undoubtedly did much to dispel the ill effects of this enforced denial of “greens.” The number to be obtained for one Egyptian piastre (2½d. English) varied, but the native drove a hard bargain if you failed to obtain at least six magnificent Jaffa oranges for that small sum. Many indeed did show in their dealings with us characteristics of the descendants of the twelve tribes with which we are all familiar, but at least one of them met his match. One famous youth, noticing that a coloured Egyptian bank note had a remarkable purchasing power, was smitten with a brilliant idea. Hurriedly quitting the village market place he produced a gaudy label from a tin of jam and succeeding in persuading a hoary-headed old extortioner to part with the whole of his stock of oranges on the understanding that the aforesaid label was worth untold gold. That youth of course had no right to be a private soldier “foot-slogging” through the Holy Land; he had missed his vocation, which was that of a company promoter in the aeroplane or munition line at home. So many oranges were eaten on that march that, later on, drafts marching up from Gaza were known to have followed this trail of orange peel and found their way across Palestine to Jerusalem.

Marching is a thirsty business in any country and when for the most part the march is made enveloped in clouds of dust, it becomes even a still thirstier business. We had had long training in that fine art of marching from dawn to dusk without having recourse to the water-bottle, and that training stood us in good stead in those November days. The supply of water was an ever-present anxiety with the higher command, and in spite of the exploration of wells by the Royal Engineers, we were only allowed the meagre amount of one water-bottle full per man per diem, and this had to be carefully husbanded if the owner desired to partake of tea ration at the end of the day. He who could not produce a mugful of water could not draw a mugful of tea, and this was strictly adhered to.

It was our great good fortune during the whole campaign never to miss our daily supply of water, and for that great credit is due to Lieutenant Gearing, who was in charge of the water camels. He had an uncanny knack of finding his way to us over trackless unknown country, and wherever we bivouacked for the night he was sure to arrive very shortly afterwards with his precious convoy of water camels. His trials cannot here be recorded and their recital on paper would never convey an adequate impression of his difficulties, and yet no one in the Battalion ever did better work. Such deeds are not rewarded with decorations, but perhaps this tardy recognition of his work will in some way convey to him our appreciation of his excellent work.

Water was not the only difficulty. Rations were very short. We had been for weeks on what the A.S.C. called “mobile” rations, which was the official name for four biscuits, one tin of bully beef and a small ration of tea and sugar for each man every twenty-four hours. This was occasionally supplemented by jam, but even then it was a wearisome diet. “Smokes” became very scarce and the old substitute of dried tea-leaves was often in use. Fuel was conspicuous by its absence, as also were mails.

However we did not grumble too much when we realised the difficulties of transport. The railway embankment built over the Wadi Ghuzze had been twice swept away by floods and all rations, etc., had to be brought by motor lorry from Gaza, and as there were no roads it was a trying experience for the A.S.C., particularly as two of the Motor Transport companies had been but recently formed and rushed up from the Base and immediately given the task of supplying a rapidly moving Division over 50-60 miles of trackless country.

In spite of all we pushed on through Beit Hanun, Deir Siniid, Mejdel, Mesmeyiah, and Junction Station until about the 24th of November when at Latrun we set foot on the first metalled road we had seen since leaving Kantara. Latrun is about midway between Jaffa and Jerusalem and a few miles to the north-east the road enters the Judean Hills at Bab-el-Wad, and after negotiating two ranges of hills approximately 2,500 feet high it reaches Jerusalem which is set at the top of a third and higher cluster of hills.

The effect of marching on a hard road after months of sand and soft soil was soon felt and our feet and footwear quickly began to show signs of wear. Boots, the leather of which had perished through exposure and lack of grease, were soon worn through and even the oldest and best of soldiers suffered from sore feet. The road itself though labelled “metalled” was not in good condition. The Turk was ever notorious for the bad state in which he kept his communications and this one was no exception to the rule. It had not been repaired since the visit of the Kaiser many years before, and the defects were soon aggravated by the passage of much transport. It was an exhausting climb and it lasted for a long time. The road was bounded on the one side for the most part by a precipice and on the other by the steep hillside, except for a few places where it ran through deep cuttings, and one could speculate on the chances of success of any troops attempting to force such a road against the opposition of a few well-armed British troops and the result of the speculations was distinctly unfavourable to the attackers. Yet the Turk had been hurried from hill to hill with little loss to our troops. As we toiled upwards we momentarily expected to get our first view of the Holy City. We knew definitely by that time that such was our objective and with the words of Holy Writ in our minds—“a city that is set on a hill cannot be hid,” we eagerly awaited the vision. That moment was however denied us for many a day, and it is a matter of conjuncture whether in any of our minds we felt satisfied when that view was obtained. It is rather ironical, but nevertheless a fact, that the first portion of Jerusalem we saw was of German origin—the tall tower of the Kaiser’s palace on the Mount of Olives.

Crown copyright—by permission Imperial War Museum.

ROAD TO JERUSALEM NEAR BAB-EL-WAD.

Crown copyright—by permission Imperial War Museum.

JEBEL KURUNTUL (Mount of Temptation) AND JERICHO.
Occupied by London Troops February 2nd, 1918. The traditional scene of Christ’s Temptation.

To face page 314.

We eventually reached the crest of the first range of hills at Enab, and descending into the valley on the opposite side we entered an area which in comparison with the deadly wastes left miles behind seemed like paradise. The hill sides were pleasantly wooded, the road was good, fuel and water were in abundance and a little monastery was discovered to possess a stock of most excellent wine made from the fruit of the vines for the cultivation of which the hillsides were terraced. We remained near Enab for some days and enjoyed life. One company was unlucky and was sent up to relieve a post of the 75th Division which had been sorely tried in holding what they had gallantly won but the remainder of the Battalion enjoyed a well earned rest. The troops were in great need of it, but the animals were in a much worse condition. Owing to the difficulties of maintaining supplies the transport animals had for nearly a month been on half rations and had done a tremendous amount of very hard work. They were tired and worn and in fact were so hungry that the steady diminution of the size of the tail boards of the limber and the amount of leather harness eaten by the animals caused the transport officer (Lieutenant Pearson) many anxious moments.

The remaining brigades of the Division moved up behind us and the Division took over the right of the line from Soba through Kushil, Nebi Samwil to Beit Izza. Nebi Samwil, so called by the reason of its being the traditional burying place of Samuel, was a distinct thorn in the side of the Turks.

This high hill overlooked Jersualem and threatened the road to the north from that city and our presence there was much resented by the Turks. They made strenuous endeavours to recapture the hill but all their efforts failed. When the 180th Brigade took over the hill there was on the top of it a splendid mosque with a graceful minaret. But Boche gunners with the Turk were no better in their respect for things religious than their brethren in France and it was not long before the minaret and mosque were utterly destroyed by a concentrated bombardment of heavy metal.

The final preparations for the attack on Jerusalem having been completed, the 74th Division which had by this time come up in rear took over Nebi Samwil from the 180th Brigade and we concentrated near Soba. The 179th Brigade were to attack the left of the Turkish position near Ain Karim, and if possible effect a junction with the 53rd Division, which was struggling up the Hebron road. The 180th Brigade were to attack up the main Jaffa-Jerusalem road through Kolonieh and Lifta while the 181st Brigade were in reserve.

On the night 7/8th December we advanced from Soba, crossed the Wadi Surar and at 3.30 a.m. on the 8th of December the Brigade attacked the high ground overlooking the Wadi Surar and south of Ain Karim and were speedily successful. This operation was a difficult one and its success was essential to the main operation. The whole brigade with mountain batteries descended the precipitous hillside in single file. It was a wretched night with no glimmer of moonlight to assist us and the rain fell heavily. The whole route was fraught with much danger to life and limb, but was negociated without a casualty. The main attack was delivered by the other regiments in the Brigade but we were called upon to assist. “C” Company who had taken the Jura Heights and were subjected to three determined counter attacks, the last two of which “C” Company helped to break up, were sent to the help of the Kensingtons.

Meanwhile Captain Leech, our medical officer, hearing that our sister Battalion had sustained over a hundred casualties, came up under heavy fire from two machine guns which were still holding out in a building of Ain Karim in our rear. He and our stretcher bearers, particularly Privates Davey and Eels, rendered most gallant service to our own and the Kensington wounded for which, and for their timely assistance, “C” Company earned the grateful thanks of that regiment’s C.O. By 4.0 a.m. all objectives had been gained and one hour later the main attack up the Lifta road commenced. Much stubborn resistance was met with, as the Turk was well dug in and the progress of the attack was retarded by the fact that our help was not forthcoming as had been expected. This was not our fault. We had hoped to effect a junction with the 53rd Division, and then advance together, but the 53rd were by then many miles away fighting hard to come to our assistance. The resistance they met with delayed them and we in consequence were subjected to much hostile artillery fire from our right flank and unable to push forward. The weather was very bad, a high and bitterly cold wind and torrential rains made conditions extremely uncomfortable. We were clad only in tropical kit, had been exposed to the elements on hills nearly 3,000 feet high for over twenty-four hours and were by no means in a happy frame of mind. The Turk was also making himself extremely objectionable and we were supplied with many gifts in the shape of shells. Our opinions of Jerusalem at that time are not fit to be recorded here, and they did not change for many a long day. Near Lifta the Turk was making strenuous efforts to keep us out, but by 3.30 p.m. he was dislodged by a gallant bayonet attack, and Lifta was occupied at dusk. We pushed on to the outskirts of Jerusalem and remained in battle outposts.

That night pandemonium reigned in the Holy City. The Turk was evacuating as quickly as possible, so quickly that when a patrol of the 180th Brigade advanced from Lifta in the early morning of the 9th of December it was met by the “Mayor” who proffered the surrender of the city. Major-General Shea was instructed to accept it and did so at 1.0 p.m., and Jerusalem passed for ever out of the dominion of the Turks.

We were billeted that night in an empty school in a garden named “Abraham’s Vineyard,” and next day moving out to the north took up an outpost line at Shafat on the Jerusalem-Nablous (Shechem) road where we remained till the 15th of December when we returned to billets in Jerusalem, in the school in “Abraham’s Vineyard.” Jerusalem was the first town worthy of the name that we had seen since leaving Ismailia and to many the prospects held out when viewed from afar off was not fulfilled on closer inspection. The weather was cold and wet, but we made light of such minor discomforts, being so overcome with the novelty of being in Jerusalem. The idea seemed so fantastic. This ancient city which for centuries had been a bone of contention between East and West was at last in Christian hands and withal in the hands of the London Division! True it is that our Welsh friends of the 53rd Division had lent a very helping hand by struggling up the Hebron road, but nevertheless it was to the London Division that credit was due for the releasing of this home of Christianity from the hands of its enemies. Yet withal it was difficult to arouse any real sentiment concerning this famous city. It was inexpressibly dirty, the people comprised all the nations and races known in Biblical times and since, and they like the city were very dirty. Of sanitation there appeared to be no sign and outside the Jaffa Gate the main water cistern, which from its accumulation of rain-water provided drink for the greater part of the city, had to all appearances not been cleansed since the time of Herod. The railway station, a comparatively modern addition, was in a state of chaos, although perhaps the R.F.C. were to blame for that. The fine ancient wall which, with the Temple site—and the water cisterns—was one of the only original things left from Biblical times, had been cut into at the request of the Kaiser and a hideous clock tower crowned with a large clock by “Dents” had been built in the gap made. Appallingly dirty fellows in charge of a few decrepit animals attached to a kind of cab stood near the clock tower plying for hire, but their condition was such that it needed no General Routine Order to forbid us to use them. Of the Holy Places within the city we were allowed only a view from the outside until some months later, but we studiously traversed the whole city armed with the Padre as guide and a Bible as guide-book. We visited the Temple site, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, David’s Tower, and traversed the so-called Via Dolorosa complete with its sites of the supposed halts of Christ during His journey with the Cross. The pool of Siloam was an offensively smelling puddle of dirty water, whilst the Brook Kidron was a mere trickle. Indeed, the whole aspect of the city dispelled in the minds of most of us that vision we had often had in our youth and had forgotten of Jerusalem the Golden. Whatever faith we had in the genuineness of the Holy Places was sorely tested and it was not long before we came to the conclusion that one either had to view everything through rosy-tinted spectacles and believe all that was said, or be convinced that most of it was sham and accordingly see the castles built up in our boyhood rudely shattered by a simple historical fact. Nevertheless Jerusalem possessed a great attraction for us. Outside the old city had grown up a comparatively new town with many modern buildings, and to the north was a genuine church of England—St. George’s Cathedral.

The shops began to display their goods openly for the first time for three years, and the natives offered fruit—figs, oranges, nuts, etc.—for sale in the market places. And indeed it was an event of some importance to be able to walk the streets of the famous city Jerusalem and feel that one was really a Crusader, a descendant of those hardy people who 800 years ago had borne the heat and the burden of the day clad not in khaki drill, but in armour. The amount of correspondence which was handed over to the Army Postal Service was enormous—and written let it be noted for the main part on German paper by German pencils—and in many a home in England to-day is treasured a Divisional Christmas Card for 1917 sent from Jerusalem. We had ideas of being able to spend our Christmas in the city, but that was not to be, and on Christmas Eve, 1917, we relieved the 180th Brigade in the line Beit Hannina—Tel-el-Ful astride the Nablous road. The weather became very bad and the climatic conditions were by no means pleasant. The line was held on the west by the Kensingtons in front of Hannain, and on the east by the Westminsters in front of Tel-el-Ful, and we were in support. Bivouacs had just been erected and we were settling down for a wet cold night when the Colonel sent for Company Commanders.

Headquarters was situated in an old tomb cut in the solid rock and entering we saw the C.O. seated at the head of a roughly made table and near him his senior officers. When we had all arrived he said, “Just listen while I read out the Brigadier’s Christmas greetings.”

“... it is expected that the enemy will attack at dawn on Christmas morning.”

It was an awkward moment, but the Colonel at once relieved the temporary gloom which had settled on us during the reading of the message by adding at the end “and England expects that every one will give the Turk a hearty Christmas greeting.”

Dispositions were soon made. “A” Company moved out in support of the Kensingtons at Beit Hannina and “D” Company to the Westminsters, who were holding the line at Tel-el-Ful. The Companies were very weak and “D” Company was reinforced by No. 11 Platoon of “C” Company, the remainder of the Battalion moving to a hill behind Tel-el-Ful. It was midnight before the move was complete and nothing remained but to wait for dawn. It was a most appalling night; a high wind and torrential rain make life very unpleasant when one is in bivouacs on top of a hill 3,000 feet high. Our bivouacs were flooded and we were soaked to the skin, but it was realised if the Turk attacked under such conditions he would be a hardier man than we expected. Christmas morning broke and the grey light from the east disclosed one of the most dismal pictures dawn could ever disclose. Jerusalem almost hidden in driving rain on Christmas morning! As we expected, the attack did not take place, though we could not but realise the irony of our dear friends at home hurrying off to church to sing “Christians awake, salute the happy morn,” when the dear ones for whom they prayed had just spent the most miserable night of their existence in waiting for a dawn which in no circumstances could have been called happy. The rain continued all Christmas Day until the morning of the 26th when the sun came out and cheered us. That the attack was imminent we all knew, but the sun revived our spirits and by midday we were willing to tackle all the Turks in Asia. We had suffered several casualties from exposure, but a supply of whale oil for the feet did much to check wholesale sickness. Information came through that the attack really would take place on the 27th, and a few minutes after midnight of the 26/27th, the Turks pushed in an advanced post in front of Tel-el-Ful. The first main attack came about one hour later, supported by heavy artillery fire on the Westminsters’ position in front of Tel-el-Ful. Shortly afterwards the Kensingtons were also heavily attacked to the west of that hill. The Turk had been reinforced by new troops from the Caucasus and was making a desperate effort to retake Jerusalem, so the brunt of this attack fell on our positions which covered the main road, and only road from the north. Two platoons of “D” Company were soon sent up under Lieutenant T. H. E. Clark to reinforce the left Company of the Westminsters and the struggle was intense. Eight attacks in all were made on the position in front of Tel-el-Ful, and in the heaviest just before dawn the Turks succeeded in effecting a footing in the main positions. The situation was grave and Colonel Gordon Clarke of the Westminsters thereupon ordered the officer in charge of “D” Company (Lieutenant Hutchison) to take the remainder of his Company and eject the Turk with the bayonet. This counter attack made by No. 16 Platoon, “D” Company, and No. 11 Platoon, “C,” under Lieutenant R. H. Harris, M.C. (“Bulldog” Harris of the 1st Battalion), under the command of the O.C. “D” Company, in spite of severe shell fire, ejected the Turk from the main position, though not without sustaining severe losses. Lieutenant Harris, with a party of seven or eight men, became detached and was surrounded. They fought to the last and Harris, accounting for at least three of the enemy himself with the bayonet, was killed. All the remainder of his party were either killed or were wounded and taken prisoners. These were the only prisoners we lost in Palestine, but their loss was due solely to the vigour with which they pushed home their attack. The remainder of the Company lost heavily and had when they took over the line from which they had ejected the Turk but 50 per cent. of their original strength. Junction was made with Lieutenant Clark and the line was reorganised and held throughout the remainder of the day in spite of repeated attacks which were supported by heavy artillery shelling. The following letter received by our C.O. a few days later gives an appreciation of the value of the work done:

Photo by Turner & Drinkwater, Hull.

2nd Lieut. R. H. HARRIS, M.C.
Killed in Action, Palestine, 1917.

To face page 320.

“Head Quarters, 60th Division, “31st December, 1917.

“My Dear Bisdee,

“I visited the post held by the platoons of your Battalion in front of Tel-el-Ful. The number of dead, their attitude, their closeness to the parapet, the bomb and shell holes, are all witnesses to the grim struggle of your splendid men. They must have inflicted not less than 300 casualties in all. The fact that they maintained their line intact against heavy odds and a brave and determined enemy is an incident of which your Battalion may well be proud.

“I should much like to know who commanded the platoons and how many casualties they had.

“Accept my warmest congratulations on their courage and determination.

“Yours sincerely, “(Signed), A. C. Temperley, Lieutenant Colonel, “General Staff, 60th Division.”

On the left in front of Beit Hannina, “A” Company did no less glorious work. After being in the line in the early morning they were withdrawn until about midday when the Turk made his final onslaught on our line. He pressed his attack right up to the stone breastworks which had been erected, and fought with determination. As on the right in the early morning, the situation was critical and “A” Company were called up to assist. In company with the Kensingtons they counter-attacked with the bayonet, and forced the enemy back. In this action, Lieutenant R. W. G. Andrews greatly distinguished himself.

A story of the 27th December would be very incomplete without mention of the gallantry of the other ranks, and particularly the stretcher bearers. These latter went out time after time under heavy rifle and machine-gun fire to bring in wounded comrades. Private Martin, “D” Company, went out with a fellow stretcher-bearer, Ridley, some forty or fifty yards from cover, and placed a wounded man on a stretcher. Whilst doing this Ridley was shot through the head, Martin thereupon, in spite of the fact that he was much the smaller of the two men, got his pal on his back, and commenced to carry him in. He stopped exhausted half-way, and after a brief rest shouldered his burden again, and got him under cover only to find that he was dead. Quite undismayed he again went out with another man, and succeeded in bringing in the first man safely. All this was done under aimed rifle and machine-gun fire. Martin afterwards was awarded the Military Medal although recommended for the V.C. When told of his reward a few days later all he said was “What about Ridley, sir, I did no more than he did,” and that epitomises the self-sacrificing spirit of the stretcher-bearers. (Martin was killed in France some months later while gallantly attending the wounded under heavy fire.)

“A” and “D” Companies were withdrawn from the line on the evening of the 27th December, and joining up with the remainder of the Battalion followed up the Turkish retirement northward next day, which resulted from the crushing blow by the 10th and 74th Divisions on the Turks’ right flank.

The importance of the operations near Jerusalem at Christmas, 1917, were never properly realised at home. They were the result of the one really determined counter attack that the Turk made during the whole of the Palestine campaign. Jerusalem, and the crumpling of our right flank was his objective, and to attain it he brought down several new divisions from the Caucasus, but the result to him was not a victory but a real defeat, crushing casualties, and an immediate loss of many more miles of country.

Referring to our subsequent advance, Mr. W. T. Massey, the official Press correspondent at General Headquarters said in his dispatch, dated 31st December, 1917:

“The rapid advance in most difficult country is due to the overwhelming defeat of the Turkish attempt to retake Jerusalem on December 27th, when, after resisting desperate attacks, the British delivered a masterly counter-stroke, causing the Turks, who had suffered tremendous losses, to yield almost impregnable positions and fall back along the Shechem (Nablous) Road, leaving in our firm possession points of great strategical importance.”

General Allenby in his dispatch referring to the same operations says:

“The heaviest fighting took place to the east of Jerusalem-Nablous Road. Repeated attacks were made against Tel-el-Ful, a conspicuous hill from which Jerusalem and the intervening ground can be overlooked. The attacks were made by picked troops and pressed with great determination. At only one point did the enemy succeed in reaching the main line of defence, but he was driven out at once by the local reserves”—

and later referring to the western side of the road where “A” Company were engaged, he says:

“At 12.15 p.m. the enemy launched an unexpected attack of great strength against the whole front, in places he reached our main line of defence, but these successes were short lived, for, in each case, local counter-attacks carried out immediately were successful in restoring the line.”

After the defeat of the Turk the Division pursued him, and a couple of days later were successful in capturing the heights at Bireh about ten miles north of Jerusalem. While passing through Ram Allah on the way to Bireh, some of the men we had lost when fighting at Tel-el-Ful were found wounded, having been left behind by the Turks.

CHAPTER XXXVI
IBN OBEID—BETHANY—JEBEL EKTIEF—JERUSALEM—MUKMAS

The capture of the Bireh Heights, and driving the Turk towards Nablous, completed the capture of Jerusalem, as far as attacks from the north of the city were concerned, but on the east and south-east there was still danger. On the 1st January, 1918, after a night in Jerusalem, the Battalion was ordered to take up an outpost line to the south-east of the town from Sur Bahir just off the Bethlehem Road, running in a north-easterly direction via Khirbit Jubb er Rumm to Abu Dis, just outside Bethany. The line, therefore, formed a defence about three or four miles from the city. Sur Bahir was held by “D” Company, Khirbit Jubb er Rumm by “C” Company, while “A” and “B” were at Abu Dis. The day was fine when the Battalion marched out of the town during the morning, but before proper communication could be established along the line, a heavy rain fell, and the whole countryside was enveloped in a thick mist. Each company, therefore, had to form its own strong points, and wait for dawn on the following day. In the darkness and mist it was impossible to move over the rough hilly country, and patrol work was limited to a couple of hundred yards. However, the next morning in brilliant sunshine patrols were pushed out, but no sign of the Turk was to be seen. Communication with the flank companies was obtained, and rations and water supplies were sent out to each of the companies in the line. Every one looked forward to a quiet tour of outpost duty. “D” Company, however, received orders to push out as far as the monastery at Ibn Obeid on the Wadi en Naar, which in Biblical times was known as the Brook Kidron, and was three miles south-east of Sur Bahir. The new line, therefore, ran from north to south, from Abu Dis to Ibn Obeid, passing through Jubb er Rumm.

The country over which the line ran was composed of stony hills with deep wadis in the valleys, sometimes 500 feet below the summit of the surrounding hills. The monastery at Ibn Obeid which was the southern terminus of the line stood on the top of the cliffs of the Wadi en Naar which descended steeply for some 800 feet to the bed of the Wadi.

The monastery had been the scene of some heavy fighting a few weeks previous to our arrival, in which a battalion of the Middlesex Regiment had fought with distinction, and had driven off repeated attacks of the Turks. When “D” Company, however, came upon the scene everything was peaceful. Only a few monks lived in the monastery, and they were soon packed off to Jerusalem; in case they acted as enemy spies. On the 10th January, the whole Battalion was relieved by the 2/13th Battalion (Kensingtons) on this outpost line, and moved to Bethany.

At Bethany three companies were billeted in the local school and a monastery near by, while “A” Company took up an outpost position at Sniper’s Post, overlooking the Jericho road, about a mile or so ahead of the Battalion. Here we reorganised our specialist sections which had suffered heavy losses in the fighting around Jerusalem during the latter part of December. A new draft had just arrived from England, and they were initiated into the art of warfare in the East by constant training over the local hills. The remainder of the Battalion was employed on “road making,” or perhaps I should say making cart tracks through the wadis near Abu Dis, and occasionally a strong force of about 200 men would reconnoitre the ground in front of the Turkish positions along the Jericho road; especially towards the Arak Ibrahim Caves, some four miles away, where the Turk had a considerable garrison.

On the 20th “D” Company relieved “A” Company at Sniper’s Post, but except for the occasional noise of two captured field guns at Bethany which were used against the Turks at Arak Ibrahim Caves, there was no sound of war. Six days later the Battalion moved back to Jerusalem and billeted in some empty schools in the German part of the city, while many of the officers were placed in private houses. The journey was full of interest, and the Mount of Olives, the Garden of Gethsemane, St. Stephen’s Gate, were passed among other famous sights. On the way we met a Jewish funeral; we thought that the Macedonian method of carrying the coffin lid in front of the procession, with the body exposed to the eyes of the curious, as being a crude method, but this funeral was even more gruesome. The party rushed along the road at a great pace, and the corpse wrapped in a blanket was merely suspended by cord at the head and foot to a long pole, which was carried on the shoulders of two men, while the body limply swung from side to side as they hurried along.

During this stay in the city of Jerusalem, parties under the expert guidance of our Padre (Rev. G. C. Cavalier) were allowed to visit the Holy Places in the town. I need hardly recite the wonders of the Holy City as many guide-books will do so far better. As far as the Battalion was concerned we enjoyed the privilege of seeing these ancient Biblical landmarks. Souvenir hunting in the shops and the purchasing of food stuffs (chiefly fruit and bread, which was of a greenish hue when cut, and of the consistency of gluten) formed the chief amusement during the day. At night time, however, the two Divisional concert parties, the “Barnstormers” and “Roosters,” both of which had made great “hits” in Cairo and Alexandria, were in full swing at their respective temporary theatres, and provided us with splendid recreation.

Major Grissel from the 74th Division took over command of the Battalion on the 28th January, our own Commanding Officer, Lieutenant-Colonel Bisdee, having been granted leave to the United Kingdom.

Danger, however, soon occurred from the epidemics of disease and fever in the city, and the Battalion was moved out of the town to tents and bivouacs on the slopes of the Mount of Olives; Headquarters being in a sheik’s house near by. The camping site was just off the Nablous Road, overlooking the Garden of Gethsemane, and was on dry, dusty terraces of barren land which in a few days became a wretched quagmire. Heavy torrents of rain continually poured down for four days and four nights without a break, and every one was swamped out and miserable. Refuge each night was taken in the Divisional theatres, and large parties would march across the city in the pouring rain simply for the comfortable shelter of the “theatre.” When the weather had cleared a little the Battalion was employed on road-making, and one day an exhibition of “sangar” building was given by a company of Indian troops who were past-masters in hill-fighting.

It was, however, unhealthy to live in the mud of the camp, and the Battalion was moved up to Sir John Grey Hill’s house at the top of the hill. It was a large desolate mansion, overlooking the valley of the Jericho Road, while in the far distance the Moab Mountains could be seen. A short stay of two days here and the Battalion was moved to bivouacs in the wadis of the Abu Hindi Wadi on the 13th of February, where preparations were made for an attack eastwards over the hills towards the Jericho Plain.

The Turkish line east of Jerusalem consisted of a line of entrenched strongholds on the hills some eight miles from the city. The southern extremity of the line rested on Muntar, a high hill just east of Ibn Obeid Monastery, and came north via Jebel Ektief, Talat ed Dumm, across the Jericho Road to the Arak Ibrahim Caves, and thence over Ras el Tawil to the deep ravine of the Wadi Um Farrar.

The British line ran practically parallel to this line, a few miles nearer the city, with Ibn Obeid forming the right or south flank, and ran north via Jubb er Rumm, Abu Dis, Sniper’s Post, on to the Jericho Road, and thence north over Suffra to Mukmas.

The intention of the attack was to drive the Turk from the high ground on the west of the Jordan Plain, and thereby render the Holy City immune from attack from the east. The advance was to be made in three distinct phases as follows:

(1) The capture of Muntar, Arak Ibrahim Caves and Ras el Tawil.

(2) The capture of Jebel Ektief and Talat ed Dumm.

(3) To advance to the steep cliffs overlooking the Jericho or Jordan Valley.

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The three Brigades of the 60th Division were holding the line in this sector, and the objectives were allotted as follows:

(a) 181st Brigade, Ras el Tawil.

(b) 180th Brigade, Arak Ibrahim Caves and Talat ed Dumm.

(c) 179th Brigade, Muntar and Jebel Ektief.

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In the 179th Brigade, the 2/14th Battalion (London Scottish) were given the hill of Muntar as their objective, and they concentrated in the depths of the Wadi en Naar near Ibn Obeid. During the night of the 19th of February the companies deployed and crept up the hill-side under cover of darkness. At dawn the trenches were heavily bombarded, and the attack was pushed home under the artillery support. The hill was captured, and fortunately the strength and resistance of the enemy had been over-estimated, with the result that the Scottish casualties were small. The same morning, the 180th Brigade were successful and captured the caves at Arak Ibrahim in the centre of the Turkish line with comparatively few casualties. Further north, however, the 181st Brigade had met with strong opposition at Ras el Tawil, and after several hours of heavy fighting gained possession of the hill and put to flight a strong force of Turks. Casualties, however, on both sides were fairly heavy.

The first phase of the advance had proved successful, and the battalions detailed for the second day’s move were able to push forward and prepare for the assaults on Jebel Ektief and Talat ed Dumm. Like the first day’s operations the second day’s attacks resulted in the objectives being taken, although the fighting was more strenuous as the objectives were surrounded by more difficult country, which provided the defenders with better cover. The Turk, finding himself overwhelmed and outmanœuvred, retired over the hills to the Jordan Valley, covering his withdrawal with machine-gun rear-guards so that the third day’s work came under the heading of “peaceful penetration.” Thus the 60th Division was master of the Jordan Valley from the commanding heights on the west of the plain, and the possibility of an attack on Jerusalem from the east had disappeared.

To return to the particular part in these operations performed by the 2/15th Battalion it will be remembered that they were in bivouacs in the Wadi Hindi on the 13th February.

For the few days previous to the commencement of the advance we were occupied in road-making in the wadi beds to assist the bringing forward of guns, ambulances and transport for the attack. Reconnaissances were also made towards the front, and on one of these “stunts” our Brigade Major, Captain Sherston, was seriously wounded in the leg.

On the early morning of the 19th of February we were awakened by the artillery fire from Abu Dis, where our heavies were assisting the attack of the London Scottish on Muntar. A few hours later we learnt of the success, and realised it was now our turn. During the morning the Battalion gradually moved along the valley of the Wadi Hindi under cover of the surrounding heights, “D” Company forming the advance guard. After advancing some three miles the Battalion was halted as further advance was impossible by day. Under the cover of an outpost line the Battalion rested until darkness came, thus making further progress possible. During the afternoon patrols were sent out and reconnaissance towards Jebel Ektief was made, and resulted in a sharp skirmish with the Turkish advanced posts, but no casualties occurred to our party, although several Turks were seen to be carried away on stretchers.

About 6 p.m. the order was given to advance to the attack, and three platoons of “D” Company were ordered to “make good” the high ground west of the deep ravine in front of Jebel Ektief while a fourth platoon under Sergeant Cross moved along the wadi bed to a point where the deep wadi in front of Jebel Ektief branched off to the left. When these platoons had pushed ahead sufficiently the remainder of the Battalion marched along the wadi in order to reach the line of deployment before daybreak.

Probably of all the country over which the Battalion had passed throughout its stay in both Salonika and Palestine none could compare with the deep ravines and precipitous cliffs over which the advanced guard had to pass, and if this statement is accepted, there is no need for further comment on the difficulty of the advance. To move forward a matter of three miles occupied a full six hours of hard climbing over ridges and difficult descents down precipices. The night was exceedingly dark, and great credit is due to Lieutenants Clark and Neall, platoon commanders in “D” Company, for maintaining their direction and reaching their objective; the men behaved splendidly and struggled along through this wretched patch of the Holy Land. Fortunately no opposition in strength was met except an occasional volley of fire from the Turkish advanced posts, but they soon retired to their main position on Jebel Ektief. Great caution, however, was necessary as large bodies of the enemy had been seen that afternoon leaving Jebel Ektief, and advancing towards our lines. When, however, the advanced guard had reached the limit of their advance, the Battalion pushed along the bed of the stony wadi, and were supposed to halt at the junction of the wadi in front of Jebel Ektief and the main wadi, where they hoped to turn the corner into their place of deployment. However, the noise had apparently disturbed the Turk, and he constantly poured machine-gun fire on to this junction corner. It was therefore found necessary to find another way into the Jebel Ektief Wadi, and the only way was to climb the steep, precipice-like sides of the main wadi on to the high ground held by “D” Company. This was accomplished, but how, no one can tell; when the Battalion with its Lewis guns, regimental aid post, and signalling mules reached the crest, dawn was appearing in the east. It was decided, therefore, to make a hurried descent into the Jebel Ektief Wadi in spite of the casual fire from the enemy’s snipers and machine guns. Luckily the going down into the second wadi was easier and more speedily accomplished than the climb from the first wadi, and just as daylight arrived the tail of the Battalion disappeared into the bed of Jebel Ektief Wadi, out of sight of the Turks. Once in the bottom of the wadi the companies sorted themselves out and prepared for the actual assault, “A” and “B” being the attacking companies, “C” in support, and “D” in reserve. It had been arranged that the 2/13th (Kensingtons) were to assault the position on our left, having approached the wadi at Jebel Ektief by a night march on a parallel route to the one we had taken. Unfortunately, the ground over which the Kensingtons had to pass had proved too difficult, and when daylight came they found themselves perched on a precipice unable to cross the deep ravine before them.

At seven o’clock on the morning of the 20th February, the artillery opened up a heavy bombardment on the hill. The advance up the hillside described officially as “trickling forward” should have taken place under this barrage, while the assault was timed for eight o’clock when the barrage was to lift.

Unfortunately little or no progress could be made owing to the fact that the heavies were shelling the “bench mark” some 1,000 yards behind the enemy’s forward lines thereby leaving the enemy’s machine guns undisturbed, while at the same time other machine guns on our left raked us, those, in fact, which should have been concentrating their attention on our brother battalion, the Kensingtons, who had been so unfortunate in their advance march.

At eight o’clock, when we should have assaulted, the attack was therefore hung up for a while. An hour later a Forward Observation Officer having come up, a second barrage was fired for fifteen minutes concentrating accurately on the forward Turkish trenches.

At the same time “C” Company was taken from support, and by means of quick concealed movement succeeded in moving to our left flank, thereby taking up the position and rôle in the action which should have been the Kensingtons’.

“C” Company was able to make some ground and also was able to give great assistance to “A” and “B” Companies by bringing enfilade fire to bear on the snipers and machine guns that were holding them up.

As this second barrage lifted, the Battalion assaulted the steep hill and in spite of heavy frontal fire were successful in capturing the first line. By this time the two companies of the Queen’s Westminsters had come up on to our left, and under the gallant leadership of Captain Flower silenced the machine guns which had enfiladed our attack. When the first ridge was gained it was found that a valley beyond led to the second ridge, and here the Turks were again strongly resisting. After a breather, however, the “Charge” was given, and the men, led by Captain Wills and Company Sergeant Major Oldcorn of “C” Company, rushed over the valley and gained the second ridge only to find a still further ridge strongly held. Machine-gun fire from the flank was still causing considerable casualties to us, but after a breather, the Battalion assaulted the third ridge, and thus completed the capture of Jebel Ektief. The Turks fled down the precipitous slopes, into the Jordan Valley, and could be seen collecting in small groups as though preparing for a counter-attack. The Battalion’s casualties in this action numbered about one hundred.

Further north of Jebel Ektief, the London Irish of the 180th Brigade had succeeded in capturing Talat ed Dumm after heavy fighting. The Turk, however, still had isolated machine guns on the hills between the recently captured positions of Jebel Ektief and Talat ed Dumm, and these poured a persistent fire into our flank. In the late afternoon the Kensingtons came up on our left, and soon cleared the ground of these irritating machine guns, and by the evening everything was quiet except for an occasional shell from a Turkish battery which could be seen some couple of miles away across the Jordan Plain, well out of the range of our guns. Just before dark we had a splendid view of the Jericho Plain.

No other valley in the world presents such extraordinary physical features, none other has been the subject of such various theories as to its origin and character. From our position on the eastern edge of Jebel Ektief, the ground sloped steeply for about 2,000 feet to the flat plain below, which stretched for over twenty miles to the foot-hills of the Moab Mountains. Winding through the plain the river Jordan could be seen in places where its steep banks were broken by small branch ravines; while to the south the dismal flat water of the Dead Sea was visible. The only town on this extensive plain was Jericho, and as the light failed it appeared as a dead city of mud huts.

The following morning, the 21st February, the London Scottish were moved on to the plain as far as the white ruins of Neba Musa, and Australian cavalry patrolled the Jericho area. The Turk had crossed the Jordan, and all was quiet. About midday, however, four enemy planes flew over our positions, and, but for a remarkable cloud which suddenly enveloped the hill, would no doubt have poured bullets into our bivouacs. When the cloud lifted they were nowhere to be seen. For two days the Battalion remained on the heights of Jebel Ektief, and although free from fighting it was a most strenuous business carrying rations and water from the Quartermaster’s Stores and Transport which were now in the Jebel Ektief Wadi, from which the attack had started, some 600 or 700 feet below the summit of the hill.

On the 23rd February, the Battalion was ordered to move as far back as Jerusalem.

CHAPTER XXXVII
JERUSALEM—MUKMAS—JERICHO—ES SALT—WADI EL JIB

On the 23rd of February the Battalion left Jebel Ektief, and after some discussion in the wadi near the transport lines, some companies chose the route via the Wadi Hindi, Abu Dis and Bethany, while others struck across country over a distinct track, supposed to be the remains of a pilgrims’ road to the Jordan, and thence along the main Jerusalem-Jericho Road, via Bethany. Which was the better route has not been decided, sufficient to say that the troops hated both. Rain poured down when we were half-way to Jerusalem, and when Sir John Grey Hills’ house was reached late at night no one had the heart to argue as to the better way from Jebel Ektief. On the following day (Sunday) we availed ourselves of the rest. In the evening many attended Divine Service in the huge chapel of the German Emperor’s Palace, near to the Mount of Olives. It is a huge structure, and a wonderful view of the surrounding country could be obtained from the tower. It was used as a Corps Headquarters during the operations around Jerusalem; not quite the purpose for which the Kaiser had intended it. The chapel was wonderfully decorated inside, but the two things which struck one as being odd, and even profane, were the panelling of the altar, which was decorated by the crests of each of the Kaiser’s sons; and the ceiling, which was divided into two parts; one containing a beautiful painting of the Son of God, while the other contained, equally well painted, a picture of the Kaiser and his wife sitting on their thrones!

On the 25th of February the Battalion moved from Jerusalem, further north to Mukmas; the route was along the Nablous Road as far as Er Ram, a distance of about five miles, and here we struck off the main road eastwards over the roughly made military roads as far as Jeba. Here the route became more difficult and was across rough mountain paths making it necessary at times for the Battalion to march in single file. The transport could not travel the whole route, and was halted near Mukmas, from which point camels and mules carried stores and rations. The Battalion halted on the hills near Umm et Talah, and outposts facing the Jericho plain were taken up by “D” Company. The distance as the crow flies from Jebel Ektief to Umm et Talah was about five miles, but the country was of such a nature that the only route between these points entailed a long march through Jerusalem, a distance of nearly twenty miles. Just in front of the outpost position was Jebel Kuruntul, reputed to be the Mount of Temptation. For nearly a month of delightful weather all was peaceful on our immediate front. Occasionally patrols pushed out to the front and explored the deep ravines leading on to the Jericho Plain, but only once were we fired on by the Turks, and then from a considerable range, probably 1,000 yards. Acting on the principle, however, that the Devil finds work for idle hands to do, that wonderful pastime for tired troops was revived, namely road-making, and large fatigue parties were so employed. It had been a source of great interest to some of us that nowhere behind the Turkish lines, away from the four main roads which run north to Nablous, south to Bethlehem, east to Jericho, and west to Jaffa from the city of Jerusalem, could any trace be found of ways of communication, except an occasional mule track; whereas, behind our own lines, a network of specially constructed tracks was always to be found. It was a mystery to us how the Turks ever moved their guns, men and supplies in sufficient quantity to even replace normal daily wastage, but the fact that after the repulse of the counter attack on Jerusalem in December, 1917, a Turkish Quartermaster surrendered to one of our posts because he, a Quartermaster, could not get sufficient food, may indicate that they suffered from shortages through lack of roads and means of communication.

We had often gazed at dawn on the gorgeous sunrise over the Mountains of Moab, and seen the dull silver of the Dead Sea turned to burnished gold; we had also seen that white streak across the dark plain of Jericho which denoted the presence of that wonderful stream, the Jordan, but the thought that the words of the old song “One more ribber to cross” would ever come literally true never entered our heads. If it did we gave it no serious thought. We had heard of the Jordan Valley and its appalling heat in summer (for had not the Turk left in Jericho a note to the effect that they would return in the autumn to bury us), and also were familiar with the expression “go to Jericho,” so, indeed, had no wish to spend any time there. If the shades of the hereafter are hotter than the scene of Joshua’s miracle they can have no terrors for the 60th London Division. “Brass hats,” however, have ever since their creation been seers of visions and dreamers of dreams, but their decision to give us an Easter holiday in Moab could only have been the result of a nightmare.

Accordingly, the 21st March, 1918, saw the 60th Division concentrated with the Anzac Mounted Division in the Jordan Valley, ready to carry out a raid on a scale unheard of in the annals of the war: that is, penetrating over thirty miles into enemy territory of the wildest nature, with the destruction of the Hedjaz Railway at Annam as the objective. The Civil Service Rifles crossed the river on the afternoon of the 23rd of March by a pontoon bridge at Makhadet Hajlah, which had been gallantly constructed under fire by the Engineers, and moved up the left bank of the river, passing on our way the Commander-in-Chief, General Allenby, and the Duke of Connaught, who was on a tour of inspection well within range of the Turkish field artillery. Our object to the north was to rout out a nest of machine guns which was delaying the crossing at the El Ghoranyieh Ford some five miles to the north, but to our delight this particular body had realised the threat to their rear, and had “impshied.”

We bivouacked for the night in the Wadi Nimrin, near Umm Enkhala, and at 5.0 a.m. the next day moved out in support of the London Scottish and the Queen’s Westminsters, who attacked the hill of El Haud which, held in force by the Turk, barred the second means of approach to Es Salt—that by way of the Wadi Arsinyet.

A Boche “pip squeak” battery, which endeavoured to hinder us, drew the attention upon itself of one of our own 4·5 howitzer batteries, and speedily ceased fire. We were not called upon to assist, and were fortunate to witness a most successful attack in open order against an extended position. The sight of lines of London infantry advancing calmly under a heavy enemy field and machine-gun fire, and also of the final assault with the bayonet was one to be remembered and treasured. El Haud was taken with little loss to our forces, and we moved up to the foot-hills and bivouacked in the Wadi Arsinyet, near El Haud.

The river Jordan at Makhadet Hajlah is 1,200 feet below sea level, and El Haud is 846 feet above, and the weather changed, becoming steadily worse. The night was wet and bitterly cold, and we were not sorry to start at 7.0 a.m. the next day on our advance up the Arsinyet track to Es Salt (Ramoth Gilead).

In heavy rain up a most slippery, muddy, and stony track, we toiled upwards and upwards as advanced guard to the Brigade, which, with a Regiment of Australian Light Horse and Mountain Battery, was soon strung out in single file. Communication was maintained with the 181st Brigade on the main Es Salt Road by means of a portable wireless installation, carried by the Light Horse. After a most exhausting climb of nearly 3,000 feet, we arrived on the outskirts of Es Salt about 1.0 p.m., thoroughly fatigued and soaked to the skin. The weather was bitterly cold, and it was felt all the more, for in a little over twenty-four hours we had moved from the tropical heat of the Jordan Valley up some 4,800 feet to the climatic conditions in winter of the top of a mountain higher than Snowdon. The Turk had retired hurriedly, and offered little opposition, and further progress being impossible owing to our exhausted state we bivouacked—and slept in inches of mud. The night was disturbed by much rifle fire from Es Salt, and at dawn on the 26th, No. 16 Platoon was detailed to reconnoitre the town. Under Lieutenant Andrew, who was acting as O.C. Company, they entered the town to find no trace of the Turk, and to receive a tumultuous welcome from the population who, during the night, had kept up a “feu de joie” from their house-tops, which noise we had interpreted as hostile rifle fire. We were the first British infantry to enter Es Salt, for it was not until some hours later that the 181st Brigade, which had been moving up the main road from Shunet Nimrin, arrived in the town. Supplies were lacking owing to the great difficulty of getting the camels up the slippery mountain track, and an officer was detailed to proceed to the 181st Brigade and bring back some water camels—water being the pressing need.

The remainder of the Division moved up the Annam road, and the defence of Es Salt was left to the Civil Service Rifles. The same evening the Battalion moved out to the north-east of the town to Kefi Huda (3,597 feet), and took up a position covering the route from the north to Es Salt.

News came through of a possible attack by some 2,000 Circassian cavalry, and arrangements were at once made for their proper reception. Time available was short, but by toiling all night under the protection of standing patrols of the Australian Light Horse, dawn on the Maundy Thursday saw the 2/15th snugly settled ready behind stone sangars. Firing started with the first light of dawn and continued throughout the day, but no serious attack was attempted by the Turk.

At dawn on Good Friday, under cover of a thick mist, the Turks attacked with bombs a post in the centre of the Battalion. An energetic reply with Mills hand and rifle grenades, and a burst of fire from a machine gun resulted in their speedy repulse. The mist suddenly lifted, and opposite a neighbouring post was discovered a Turkish captain and his batman, with their kit complete. He was brought in and it transpired that he had set out with 200 men to assault the hill under cover of the mist, but his left flank got too far forward and pressed the attack before the remainder were ready, and they in consequence—like the burglar who heard the noise overhead—thought all was lost and fled, leaving their officer stranded on the hillside. In his pocket was found a small diagram which showed the relative positions of all our Lewis and machine guns, and this caused no little searching in the mind, for we had, as we thought, camouflaged them successfully. However, even if he, the captain, knew, his snipers apparently did not, for, though throughout the week-end we were continually sniped, one of our Lewis guns, though continually in action, had not a shot fired at it.

SKETCH MAP OF OPERATIONS AROUND JERUSALEM

There were constant alarms, and on the night of the 30th/31st March “D” Company repulsed four separate determined attacks on their position, with no loss to themselves. On the right and left “A” and “B” Companies were troubled slightly, but the brunt of the defence of Es Salt fell on the centre of the line.

The situation was nevertheless serious, and the 2/14th and 2/16th Battalions were brought back to Es Salt.

The Battalion was relieved on the night of the 31st of March, and at dawn moved down to the south side of Es Salt. The Divisional withdrawal from Annam, the assault on which place had not been entirely successful, was now in full swing, and the majority of the Armenian population of Es Salt, terrified at the prospect of the return of the terrible Turk, was hastily evacuating the town. The road, which had been churned up by men, horses, guns, and wheeled transport, was inches deep in liquid mud, and was packed with refugees. Old men and boys, women and children of all ages, with their household goods in large bundles on their backs, staggered along obsessed with great fear. Their flight was terrible, and not a few of us hurriedly realised that it is not only troops who suffer in war time. We could give little assistance; our own baggage wagons were already overburdened and our own loads were heavy, but we did what we could.

At 8.0 a.m. on the 1st of April (Easter Monday), after standing in full marching order in the mud for a solid hour, we started our retirement, and though hindered and hampered by the crowd of refugees which surged and swayed either side of us, we marched steadily until 5.0 a.m. next day, when we emerged from the hills at Shunet Nimrin, and bivouacked for a few hours, after which we continued and, crossing the Jordan River by the Ghoraniyeh Ford, we arrived at a position in the Wadi Nuemiah about 3 p.m., having covered a distance of about thirty miles since 8.0 p.m. the previous night.

Every one was footsore, dirty, unshaven, with seven days’ growth of beard, and thoroughly tired, but we soon settled down to our first proper night’s rest for nine days, during which time we had experienced almost the extremes of heat and cold, and had marched about seventy miles through some of the most atrocious country our army has ever operated in. The other Brigades had fared even worse than we had, but the whole Division had covered itself with honour, and had no reason to be dispirited at the apparent failure of its novel enterprise. Gains in warfare are not measured by territory alone, and the influence of this raid—indeed it was almost a campaign—had a far reaching effect on the strategy of the Palestine campaign.

We were happy, on our return to the Jordan Valley, to welcome back from leave in England our Commanding Officer, Lieut.-Colonel Bisdee, and the Battalion, though it had worked well under its temporary Commander, was delighted to see its Commanding Officer back once again, and it speaks much for the spirit of comradeship of the Regiment that no one was perhaps more pleased to be with us again than Colonel Bisdee himself.

After a day’s rest in the valley, we moved once again up towards Jerusalem, and halted at Talat ed Dumm for twenty-four hours. At Talat ed Dumm there is a wayside house reputed to be the Good Samaritan Inn of Biblical times. After this short rest we again pushed up the old Jericho road, which we had come to know almost as well as the Strand. On arriving at Jerusalem we were again billeted on the Mount of Olives. The road from Jericho goes through particularly desolate and wild country, and no doubt in years to come, many a Civil Service Rifleman, when questioned by his offspring concerning the man who fell among thieves, will truthfully say, “If you had seen the road you would not be surprised.”

It was not a habit in those days to keep us idle, and we were soon moved on up the Jerusalem-Nablous road via Bireh and Ram Allah to the Wadi el Jib, where we temporarily relieved the 10th (Irish) Division. The Battalion was in reserve, and bivouacked on a terraced hillside which was covered with fig trees and vines. It was very hot, and we were glad to resume our summer kit. The camping ground was one of the most pleasant we had experienced in Palestine, and we made the most of it. There were flowers and plants in great profusion, and botanists amongst us spent hours collecting specimens; one of them, a botanist by profession, collected a hundred or so specimens which he had never seen before, and which he could not name.

Of actual war we saw but little, occasional bombing raids were made by enemy planes, but our chief enemy was just behind us—a gunner officer in charge of an 18-pounder battery, whose idea of humour was to give an order for ten rounds gun fire regularly each night at varying times between midnight and 4.0 a.m. Our considered opinion of this gentleman cannot be published here.

A week later we moved back as far as Attara, where we gave a most sincere and regretful God speed to our Colonel, who left us to take command of the 2/13th Battalion London Regiment. Colonel Bisdee had joined us at El Shaulth in September, 1917, and no Commanding Officer was ever so popular, both with his officers and men. He had instilled into the Regiment a magnificent spirit, and it is no idle boast to say that the Regiment would have gone into action anywhere and under any circumstances with Colonel Bisdee, with no misgivings and fully aware that, whatever happened, he would be their leader.

Photo by Searle, S.W.

LT.-COL. T. E. BISDEE, D.S.O., M.C. (D.C.L.I.)
Commanded 2nd Battalion, 9th October, 1917, to May, 1918.

To face page 338.

CHAPTER XXXVIII
EL HAUD—AIN ARIK—SURAFEND—KANTARA—ALEXANDRIA—JOURNEY TO ITALY

On the 23rd of April, 1918, the Battalion marched south from Attara and encamped for the night just north of Ram Allah, near Lake Ballua. The march was carried out during the evening, and the bright weather made it enjoyable. On the two following days the journey was continued towards Jerusalem, and on the night of the 25th we halted at Shafat, a few miles north of the city. Rumours of another “stunt” across the Jordan were then confirmed, and on the night of the 27th the Battalion marched down the Jericho road once more to Talat ed Dumm, arriving there about 11.0 p.m., where the concentration of transport foreboded another operation on a large scale. The following evening the Battalion moved to the Jordan Valley, and crossed over the river at Ghoraniyeh Ford, which was then held by Indian troops. Although it was only April the heat in the valley was terrific during the day, and white troops would, no doubt, have suffered considerable losses from disease had they been stationed there for any considerable length of time. The next day was spent amid the thick brushwood on the plain, and every available piece of shade was used, but even under this protection the damp heat was nigh unbearable, and only a minimum of clothing in the shape of drill shorts were worn by most. There was a large concentration of troops in the area, and preparations were made for an attack on the foot-hills of the Moab Mountains.

On the 30th the attack was launched by the 179th Brigade, the Westminsters on the left and the London Scottish on the right, while the 180th Brigade was operating farther south. Under a heavy artillery bombardment the troops advanced from their positions of deployment, which they had taken up during the night. They attacked the first ridge and, after heavy fighting, obtained a footing. Many prisoners were captured and casualties were inflicted on the enemy. The 2/15th were held in reserve at Ghoraniyeh Ford, and when a crowd of over 200 prisoners appeared we felt that the operation was so successful that we should not be needed; it transpired afterwards, however, that these Turks were not captured in the actual assault, but had been detailed to reconnoitre our concentration on the plain, and while coming over had walked into the London Scottish, who were pushing forward for the attack. They made no resistance, and were soon sent to the rear as prisoners.

After the first ridge had been taken it was found that the whole position was strongly held by the Turk, and that further advance over deep ravines swept by machine guns would be very difficult. Repeated attempts were made to push forward, but only heavy casualties resulted. The actual objective of the 179th Brigade was a steep hill called El Haud, which lay some six miles east of the Jordan, and formed part of a continuous line of steep, rocky hills that bordered the Jericho Plain on the east.

On the night of the 30th April the London Scottish had only been able to gain the first ridge of El Haud after heavy fighting, and during the following day held on to the captured ground with the idea of pressing forward the attack at dawn next morning. In order to support this second effort “A” and “B” Companies of the 2/15th pushed forward to the foot of El Haud, to act as local supports. The second attack on the 1st of May was also unsuccessful, not only at this one particular spot but along the whole Divisional front. Heavy machine-gun fire swept each ridge, both from the front and the flanks, so cunningly had the Turk arranged his emplacements. Throughout the day desultory fighting took place and small local attacks were made, but no general advance could be accomplished. During the evening of the 1st of May “C” and “D” Companies were brought up from the Wadi Nimrin, where they had been moved the previous night, and during the night of the 1st the Battalion relieved the London Scottish on El Haud. Orders were received on the same night to attack at dawn. This meant a busy night in reconnoitring. “A” and “B” Companies were detailed for the attack, with “C” Company in support, and just before dawn they deployed for the attack on the right flank of the hill, from which point it appeared the approach to the summit was easiest. “D” Company remained in possession of the captured ridge.

The attack was launched forward with great spirit and dash, but was met with the same murderous fire that had swept down the London Scottish in their attempts, and the 2/15th could only push forward a little way, gaining some 500 yards and a small hill, thus forming for themselves an unpleasant little salient into the enemy’s lines. Even then casualties were fairly heavy, and the work of carrying back the wounded was made more hazardous by the Turk, who fired on every stretcher with his machine guns throughout the day. Captain Peatfield, “A” Company, was reported missing, but late at night he returned under cover of darkness, having lain out all day in the sun, a few yards from a Turkish machine gun, apparently dead.

At dusk the wounded were collected, and “A” and “B” were withdrawn, “C” Company staying on the captured ground and hastily organising it for defence by building sangars.

During the afternoon two platoons of “D” Company, under Lieutenant K. P. Neall, had attempted to push forward from the main ridge, but the progress was soon arrested by heavy machine-gun fire, and this proved conclusively that frontal attacks were impossible. From the result of this local attack it was learnt that between ourselves and the Turk was a deep ravine with precipitous banks. The night of the 3rd of May was fairly quiet except for the intermittent machine-gun and rifle fire from both sides. On the following morning, however, the Turk made a determined counter attack on our immediate right, against the London Irish of the 180th Brigade. Curiously, just before this counter attack took place, four enemy planes flew over our lines and poured machine-gun fire down at us. They did little actual damage, and one of them was brought down by our Lewis-gun fire. Every one was on the alert for a repetition of the aeroplane attack and sought cover behind the numerous boulders on the hill. However, the planes sailed out of sight behind the summit of El Haud, and just as every one thought of coming from their cover a sentry group in front of the Battalion on our right shouted “they’re coming over,” at which every one near by took immediate cover, but were soon surprised to find that no aeroplanes appeared but that a force of Turks about 250 strong rushed their position and drove them off. The Turkish “coup,” however, was short lived, and an immediate counter attack by the “Irish” sent them hurrying back to their lines with loss. However, the incident was disastrous to that Company of the 2/15th which was holding the little salient which had been gained during the morning attack of the previous day, as the Turk was able to pour machine-gun fire into the rear of “C” Company, causing casualties. The gallant action of Private Freer, a signaller, in remaining at his telephone though severely wounded and under close-range rifle fire, materially assisted the “Irish” to regain their position, for Captain Wills, of “C” Company, was thus able to send back information which led to the “Irish” receiving adequate support from our machine guns and eighteen pounders.

Later in the day the enemy aeroplanes returned, but this time devoted their attentions to the transport lines and A.S.C. dumps near Ghoraniyeh Ford. For the rest of the day the infantry could make no progress, and spent their time watching the artillery bombardment of those places where machine guns had been located. The Turk was clever in concealing his emplacements, and it was only in the evening when a slight breeze sprang up were we able to detect one that had been firing at us throughout the whole day. This machine gun was in a cave in the hill side, and the entrance to the cave had been cleverly camouflaged with a blanket of the same colour as the surrounding rocks, and not until the breeze caused the blanket to move was it realised that the fire had been coming from an apparently solid rock. However, attentions were soon upon this spot, and one of our machine guns poured heavy fire into the cave, tearing the blanket in shreds, and no doubt killing the enemy gunners.

On the evening of the 4th May orders were received that the whole of the British Force would be withdrawn to the Ghoraniyeh Bridgehead as the Turks had sent a considerable force down the Jordan Valley from the north, and which had been driven back by our cavalry that afternoon. However, it was realised that should this attack by the Turk succeed our left flank and our line of retreat would both be seriously threatened. In the Battalion arrangements were made for “D” Company to be left as a rear-guard, holding the hill of El Haud until the rest of the Battalion had got a good start across the plain. “D” Company kept up an occasional Lewis gun and rifle fire for nearly an hour and then left the hill to the mercy of the Turks. Every one was relieved to reach the wire entanglements of the Ghoraniyeh defences the gaps in which were guarded by Indian cavalry. The amusing part, however, was that when the Battalion returned to its bivouac area of a few days previous they found “D” Company there first. Apparently being a smaller force they were more mobile and certainly they knew the shortest cut home. Once inside the wire a few hours’ rest was granted, and at 3 a.m. the withdrawal was resumed as far as Tel el Sultan, a ruined village near Jericho. We arrived at our bivouac area early in the morning, and in the glorious warmth of the day every one enjoyed a thorough rest after the unsatisfactory hard fighting of the past few days. Before leaving the subject of El Haud a word of praise is due to the Divisional R.A.M.C. for the splendid manner in which they evacuated the wounded during the fighting, and had erected a large field hospital tent well within range of shell fire under the slopes of El Haud.

On the 6th of May the Battalion had the surprise of its life, when orders were received to pack up and move to Jericho, where motor lorries were to take us as far back as Jerusalem. Never in its existence had the Battalion partaken of such luxury, but it is regretted that we all thought that this kindness to tired troops was to move them to another part of the front where they were needed in a hurry.

In the late hours of the afternoon the Battalion boarded the lorries and the convoy started its journey to Jerusalem, along the new Jericho road, which is a masterpiece in mountain roads, and was built under German influence. About half-way home we met several regiments of Indian cavalry proceeding in the direction of the Jordan Valley, where they were to hold the line during the summer months. Many of them wore the Mons Star ribbon, and apparently had seen fighting in France. After passing these troops rain commenced to fall and those who had greedily sought the seats beside the driver paid the penalty and were soon drenched through. The lorries pulled up just north of Jersualem on the Nablous road, from which point each load of men marched independently to the camping ground near Shafat, which we had occupied only a week previously. The writer was detailed to supervise the unloading of the Battalion, and when they had finally “debussed” he made his way to Shafat probably about 45 minutes after the first party of the 2/15th had left their lorry. In spite of the rain and the muddy ground bivouacs had been erected and each one had a small candle burning inside. To see the camp from the roadway it would have appeared to a casual observer that it had been in existence for several weeks, so expert had the Battalion become in erecting its temporary home. Finding his bivouac the writer was soon presented with a plate of bread, bully beef, pickles, cheese and a mug of tea by his batman.

On the 7th, the G.O.C. Division inspected the Battalion and complimented it on the splendid way in which it had stuck to its unsuccessful work in the recent visit across the Jordan.

The following day the Battalion moved north a few miles as far as Ram Allah; the march was not long, the road was fair, and the weather was glorious, and by 2 p.m. the Battalion had settled down in its new area, and dinners were being cooked. I have already referred to the speed with which the Battalion made themselves at home on the night we arrived at Shafat, but as a further illustration the following true story may be given. On this day’s march we were followed by the London Scottish, who were in turn followed by an officer of our own Battalion and a draft fresh from England who were on their way to join us. Having missed the Battalion as it left Shafat this new officer attempted to catch us up. We arrived at our bivouac area and moved off the road to allow the Scottish to pass to their camp which was farther north. We immediately put up our bivouacs and commenced cooking. The new officer and his men followed the Scottish for some two miles only to find that the encampment he had passed some 25 minutes before was really that of his own Battalion. It was hard to make him realise that we were only just ahead of the Scottish on the march and turning off the road had immediately set to and erected our camp.

Here news of a long rest reached us, and we were told that after the next day’s march to Ain Arik we should have a complete rest. On the way to Ain Arik we were inspected by the Commander-in-Chief, General Allenby, and on the afternoon of the 9th arrived at our new camp. The camp was situated on the rocky slopes of a deep wadi; little ledges were however found for “bivvies,” and each company made itself at home in its particular area. The slopes were covered with many small trees, and it was undoubtedly one of the prettiest spots in Palestine that we had visited. Here the Battalion remained for 10 days, and everything was done to make the rest enjoyable. At the top of the wadi near the main roadway a few level places were found and football competitions, both inter-Battalion and inter-company were arranged. A Brigade Sports Committee was set up and a varied programme of games, sports and transport competitions was arranged. The final placings were as follows: 2/15th Battalion, 10 points; 2/14th Battalion, 10 points; 2/16th Battalion, 3 points; and 2/13th Battalion, 3 points. Great credit was due to the excellent turn out of our transport section, and also our Lewis gunners in their particular competitions. In the Brigade football final the London Scottish beat the Queen’s Westminsters after a hard game. The Divisional Concert Party arrived and gave nightly performances in a large marquee. In the Battalion itself company concerts were held, a piano being hired all the way from Jerusalem through the personal efforts of Lieutenant Phelps. The whist drive held by “B” Company must also be included in the “mention in dispatches.” Shooting competitions were held at a small range built at the bed of the wadi, and Battalion sports, limited to the three-legged, sack, egg and spoon type of race, were held on the flat bed of the wadi and proved a huge success. There was no suitable ground for sprinting, and even the course for the comic races had to be cleared of large stones by a voluntary fatigue party. One competition of the afternoon which deserves special mention was a “beauty competition for the best dressed lady.” The originality of the aspirants was marvellous, and real harem dresses with the aid of bacon wrappings, etc., were among the prize winners. Canteen stores were plentiful and “dinner” parties were given throughout the camp each night. A real happy time was spent here and the Battalion was loath to leave Ain Arik when orders were issued on the night of the 19th May.

The Battalion proceeded next morning to Beit Ello by a circuitous route around the many hills in that part of Palestine. A pleasant camping ground was found, and after a night’s rest we proceeded the next morning to Beit Rima, which was near the centre of the British line in Palestine which then extended from Jaffa, on the west, to a point just south of Nablous on the east. Here the proximity of the enemy’s observation posts necessitated us to place our bivouacs under the numerous olive trees on the terraces round the village. For the next week or so the Battalion rested by day and each night large working parties sallied forth north of the village of Beit Rima to dig a system of trenches for the defence of the hill.

Rumours of France commenced to float about, and these rumours soon developed into fact. On the 29th of May, 1918, the Battalion, together with the London Scottish and Queen’s Westminsters of the same Brigade, bade farewell to the 60th Division.

In France, heavy fighting and the stupendous thrust by the Germans in the spring of 1918, necessitated that seasoned troops from the East should proceed to the Western Front. Certain Battalions of the 60th Division were therefore withdrawn from the Palestine Front leaving on an average one white Battalion in each Brigade, and filling up their vacancies with Indian troops.

Leaving Beit Rima the Battalion trekked to the Jaffa area via Ibn Harith, Amwas, near Latrun, to Surafend, near Ludd, which had then become the British railhead for the western flank of the British line in Palestine. The marches were carried out by night as the summer heat became too trying for any movement by day. The nights were warm and glorious, a bright moon shone throughout the march, the roads were in good condition, and every one enjoyed the journey. Only one night was spent at Surafend, and in the afternoon of the 2nd of June the Battalion marched to Ludd Station and travelled throughout the night, reaching Kantara by 5 a.m. on the 3rd. A short march to the rest camp brought the journey to an end, and here we were met by the advance party under Lieutenant Neall, who allotted us to our proper lines in the camp.

At Kantara we were fortunate to be given a part of the Divisional Rest Camp and were not bothered to erect tents as was the lot of other battalions in the Division. The camp kitchens, canteens and mess tents were at our disposal, and this saved a great deal of work and organisation. Immediately on our arrival large parties were granted leave to Cairo and Alexandria, and except for morning parades and ordinary camp duties those who remained took every advantage of the benefits of life in a base camp. The local cinema huts, concert party marquees and canteens were packed each night, and every day bathing parades in the Suez Canal were held. The weather was extremely hot and the bathing parades were a great boon. Preparations were also made for an early departure to France.

On the evening of the 15th of June, 1918, the Battalion paraded and marched to Kantara Station and entrained for Alexandria, which place was reached by 5 a.m. the following morning. The train ran alongside our transport, the Indarra. As soon as the train stopped on the quayside we were busy transferring our stores, and for a couple of hours fatigue parties were constantly up and down the gangways. When this work was completed the Battalion paraded alongside the boat and then marched up the gangway, leaving their pith helmets in heaps on the dock side; it was a pathetic farewell to Egypt, where we had thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.

The Indarra remained alongside for the day, but no leave ashore was granted, and the time was spent in allotting boat stations and issuing life-belts. The following morning we moved to the middle of the harbour, and during the day bathing from the side of the boat was permitted, and although a certain amount of flotsam floated around the ship the warm sea water was most delightful. Non-swimmers were advised to put on their life-belts in order to gain confidence in case the journey was ill-fated, and in many cases the men proved to themselves the efficiency of the belts in actual water. Practice alarms for boat stations added to the “pleasure” of the day. About midday the Indarra was joined by four other transports, namely, the Kaiser-i-Hind, Malwa, Caledonia and Canberra. This convoy left the harbour in the evening in single file and was escorted by armed trawlers and some naval vessels; to one of which was attached a captive balloon for purposes of detecting submarines which frequented the area around the entrance to Alexandria Harbour. Several aeroplanes also flew over the convoy, and not until we were some 50 miles out to sea did our aerial escort leave us, when we were handed over to the care of ten Japanese destroyers and then the trawlers from Alexandria returned.

By the time the Alexandrian escort had left us the transports had lined up abreast of each other with a distance of roughly 500 yards between each boat, and this formation was retained throughout the voyage, the ten Japanese destroyers forming advanced, rear, and flank guards.

The journey across the Mediterranean was without incident, and the coast of Italy came into view early on the morning of the 21st of June, and the convoy steamed towards Taranto Harbour. When the boats arrived within the wide bay just outside the entrance to the inner harbour every one was relieved, but excitement was intense when the guns of the escort opened rapid fire on our left. Immediately the Japanese flag was run up the mast of each of the destroyers and frantic signals were sent from the Commander’s boat, which was ahead of the flotilla. Three of the destroyers rushed at full speed to a spot about two miles to the left of the convoy and immediately commenced to drop depth-charges, the explosions of which shook the sides of the Indarra even at that distance. Torpedoes, however, had already been fired by the enemy submarine, which had apparently been lying in wait in the harbour only a couple of miles from an Italian Naval Base. One of these torpedoes came at a terrific speed, leaving a white wake in its trail, and passed in rear of the Malwa on our left, and only missed the bows of our own boat by a few yards. The second torpedo passed about 200 yards ahead of the convoy. The course of the transports was immediately altered and with a zig-zag route the boats hurried to their berths just outside the narrow entrance of the inner harbour; while the Japanese destroyers continued to drop depth-charges around the suspected position of the German submarine. No official result was published, but it was reported in Taranto that the submarine was sunk by the explosion of the depth-charges.

The following day the Indarra moved through the narrow channel into the inner harbour. So narrow is this entrance that the sides of our troopship only missed the high walls on both sides by a matter of five or six yards. In the inner harbour were battleships of all sizes belonging to the Italian Navy, and one marvelled how our allies could allow enemy submarines to lie in wait just outside without any interference, for on our arrival not a sign of an Italian warship was seen in the outer harbour. In the peacefulness of the still waters of the inner harbour, which was several square miles in area, we remained until the early hours of the following morning, and just after dawn the Battalion disembarked by means of lighters which carried us to the temporary pier erected on the shallow beach near the British Base Camp.

It was the 23rd of June, 1918. Just a year previously we had landed in Egypt, and two years practically to the day since we had left England for France. Once again our feet were on the continent of Europe and we felt we had left the East for good. We looked forward with no little anxiety to our coming return to France, though many maintained that we were bound for the Italian Trentino Front, and arriving at Taranto and not Marseilles lent colour to this possibility.

CHAPTER XXXIX
JOURNEY THROUGH ITALY AND FRANCE—RECONSTRUCTION—MOULLE—ST. SYLVESTER CAPPEL—MONT ROUGE—LOCRE—DRANOUTRE—MONT VIDAGNE.

On arrival at the pier at Taranto beach a short march brought us to our lines in the Base Camp. Only one day was spent here, and the following evening we entrained for France. During the day canteen stores were bought for the journey from the large Expeditionary Force Canteen, but no leave into the town was granted. Orders were issued for entraining that evening, and an amusing paragraph appeared to the effect that troops were requested not to refer to our gallant Allies, the Italians, as “Italianoes,” “Ice-creamoes,” “Chip Potatoes,” etc. The route by train was along the east coast of Italy, and the train left the camp siding about 8 p.m. on the evening of the 24th June, 1918.

The first part of the journey was practically along the seashore and there was nothing of special note about the scenery. Halts were made at Bari, Foggia, Termoli and Castellammare, which town was reached about 1 p.m. on the 25th. By the following midday we had reached Rimini, having passed through Ancona and Pesaro en route. As far as Rimini the scenery had not been above the average of the coastal scenery of Kent or Sussex, but shortly after leaving the town the railroad branched inland towards Faenza; and on this part of the journey the scenery was beautiful, the countryside being rich with summer flowers of bright colours, while the perfect blue of the sky overhead added to the richness of the colour scheme. Faenza was reached by 4 p.m. on the 25th June, and a long halt was made in a siding and men were permitted to leave the train and stretch their legs a little. Hitherto the halts had been short and just long enough to permit the issue of hot tea which had been prepared at wayside cookhouses previous to our arrival. At Faenza the long halt of several hours permitted officers to visit the town, where a decent meal was procured at one of the hotels. Time also enabled many of us to purchase and send home as souvenirs, pieces of artistic pottery for which the town is noted. Early in the evening the journey was resumed, and our next halt was made in the large station of Bologna, just after 8 p.m., when we caught a passing glimpse of the quaint Cathedral and University in the town. The people on the station cheered us as the train pulled up; a decided change from the apathetic gaze which had been our greeting from the southern Italians. While standing in the station a long ambulance train full of wounded Italian troops drew up alongside our train and fraternising between the two armies commenced, cigarettes and souvenirs were exchanged, and when the hospital train moved out we gave a hearty cheer to our wounded allies. A short time afterwards our train steamed out of Bologna, and by dawn the following morning we were passing through the glorious mountain scenery of Northern Italy. The train wended its way along deep valleys and pierced through the long tunnels which are numerous in the Apennines. The route taken was through Novi Liguire, Ronco to Sampierdarina, just west of Genoa; the railway skirting the city at this part of the journey. During the afternoon of the 27th we halted at Savona where an enthusiastic crowd gathered and cheered us; no doubt thinking that the Battalion was part of the British Forces which had so materially assisted the Italians in their recent victories on the Trentino Front. We did not disillusion these kind people and accepted their flowers, fruits and, cigarettes. From Savona the journey was continued along the sea shore, and we enjoyed the beauty of the calm, blue, sunlit Mediterranean on our left, and on the other hand the steep cliffs covered with bright flowers and dotted here and there with pretty little towns and beautiful gardens. At 11 p.m. that night the train pulled up at Ventimiglia, the frontier station where certain international formalities were gone through by the railway officials. However, such things did not worry us, and we spent the halt in the railway refreshment cafés and buffets. Unfortunately, the beauties of the Mentone-Cannes Riviera were passed at night-time and the only excitement of the night was the gamble in most carriages while we were passing Monte Carlo. Early on the morning of the 28th June we reached the outskirts of Marseilles. The railway ran along the north-eastern side of the town on high ground, and a splendid view of the harbour and city was obtained. From this point the route went northwards via Miramas, Avignon, where we crossed the Rhone to Le Tiel, which town we reached at 10.30 p.m. that night, and obtained an excellent meal at the railway buffet. The rest of the beauty of the Rhone Valley, which many of us had enjoyed some eighteen months previously, was lost in the darkness. Lyons was passed early the next morning, but it was sufficiently light to obtain a splendid view of the city and its bridges, which had been denied us in the outward journey to the East. After passing through St. Germains au Mont D’or the railway branched off to the west and a long halt was made at Paray-le-Monial, giving us the opportunity of exploring the quaint provincial French town for about an hour, when the journey was again resumed. During the night we passed through Moulins, Nevers, and Gien, and on this part of the trip we passed a train containing the London Scottish which had been delayed owing to a fire breaking out in one of the trucks. During the morning of the 30th June we arrived near Versailles about 10 a.m., at which point the network of railways is extremely intricate and hopes of passing through Paris were high at one moment when we appeared to be travelling towards the capital, only to be dashed to the ground the next when the train shot over the points in quite a different direction. Over this network of railway lines outside Versailles the train halted, shunted, went forward, moved backwards until we became quite bewildered as to the real direction of Paris, but when we eventually passed through the station of Poissy it was settled once and for all that we were not going near Paris. The day was beautifully warm and every one was getting tired of this long train journey with its constant jolting, when the train pulled up miles from nowhere. Every one descended from the train to the fields alongside and enjoyed a “leg stretch.” The signal was against us, and in spite of the frantic whistle of the engine it did not fall. None of the railway officials could account for the stoppage, so we enjoyed the freedom of the fields for about two hours. Eventually, however, the shrill whistle of the engine warned us that the journey was to be continued, and as the train slowly moved, every one made a dash for their truck. Every one was present except two officers, and we all worried about their apparent predicament or even perhaps their desertion. However, about a mile further up the line the train pulled up and the two truants appeared. Apparently they had gone off to a village further up the line in search of luxuries in the shape of eggs, butter, fruit, etc., and before leaving had made a compact with the driver (no doubt with the aid of a few francs) to wait for them at a given point if the train was permitted to pass the signal. After this incident the train crawled along until the town of Gisors was reached, and here the explanation of our delay was apparent. The train in front of ours, carrying French troops and transport, had run into a stationary engine in the station, and as the result of the collision, several carriages had been smashed up and the engine derailed, causing casualties among both troops and horses. After some delay, which allowed us to visit the cafés in the town near the station, we proceeded on our journey, and early on the 1st of July we passed through Etaples, where the large British Cemetery brought back to us the real horrors of war after a pleasant journey across the Mediterranean and the long and interesting train ride through Italy and France. From Etaples the journey to Boulogne was through a particularly dull piece of country, and consisted of a continuous line of dumps, hospitals, camps, hutments, ordnance depots, etc.

About midday on the 1st of July, 1918, the Battalion detrained at Audricques, a large Royal Engineer locomotive repair depot. The scenery at this place was not particularly pleasing; all railheads are surrounded by the same old ration and ammunition dumps, but the W.A.A.C.’s, whom we had never seen before, brightened our lives at that particular moment. It must be remembered that we had not seen a real fresh-complexioned English girl for over two years. Not that I am belittling the beauty of their French sisters or even the particular charms of the girls of Italy, Macedonia, Egypt and Palestine, but to us there were none to touch the homely loveliness of the British girl.

Orders were soon issued by the new Divisional Staff which had met us on our arrival, and we proceeded to billets at Moulle, not an excessive distance, it is true, neither were the roads dusty and rough like the tracks we had traversed out East, but after a week in the train it was a trying march.

Here we were informed that we were to form part of the 30th Division which had been recently reconstructed and was under the command of Major-General W. de Williams, C.M.G., D.S.O., and with the London Scottish and the Queen’s Westminsters we were to form the 90th Infantry Brigade under Brigadier-General G. A. Stevens, D.S.O.

The other two brigades in the Division were the 21st Brigade, consisting of the 1/6th Cheshire Regiment, 2/23rd London Regiment and the 7th Royal Irish Regiment, and the 89th Brigade, containing the 2nd Battalion South Lancashire Regiment, 7/8th Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers and the 2/17th London Regiment.

The following extract from a brief history of the 30th Division gives an idea of the state of affairs on our joining the Division:—

“The various units of the Division were collected together at the beginning of July, occupying an area around Cassel, where Divisional Headquarters were. But the Division was hardly ready to go into the line without some training and preparation. This was particularly the case since there were indications that the enemy was going to attack again on the Kemmel-Hazebrouck Front. The French troops holding the line between Kemmel and the Mont des Cats had been relieved by British troops at the beginning of the month, and the defensive systems still required a good deal of attention, so that during the month of July the Division was busy enough. The various battalions within the three Brigades of the Division had to get to know each other. The various arms of the Division had to learn to work together for defence and offence, the Palestine Battalions had to accustom themselves to the warfare of 1918, which had changed since their departure for Salonica in 1916. While the whole Division had to prepare for, and practise its rôle as Reserve Division to the 10th Corps with a series of counter-attack programmes in the event of an enemy attack taking place. This involved careful organisation and co-ordination of each arm for the various situations that might arise, from the piercing of the line by Mont Rouge, to a thrust on the south-western slopes of the Mont des Cats.”

From the 2nd of July to the 7th the Battalion was comfortably billeted at Moulle and carried out intensive field training in the neighbourhood. Our Battalion organisation was soon revised and completed, and the Battalion was initiated into the revised methods of warfare in France in 1918. Leave was granted to the United Kingdom in limited numbers, it being in most cases the first home leave for two years.

On the 7th of July the Battalion marched to La Nieppe, between St. Omer and Cassel, and stayed there for the night. The next morning the march was resumed as far as Eecke, where the Battalion was billeted in a couple of large farms between the villages of St. Sylvester Cappel and Eecke. The Battalion, in common with the remainder of the Division, became responsible for the defence of the reserve line at Coq de Paille, south-west of Mont des Cats. Each day reconnaissances of the various routes from our billets to the position, and also a complete study of the system itself, was made by officers and N.C.O.’s. On several occasions the Battalion marched up at night and manned the trenches for practice purposes, while schemes for counter attacks from the trenches were worked out and practised. During the day field training was carried out with vigour, while on those evenings when we were not detailed to march up to the Coq de Paille defences for the night, Company concerts, assisted by our own drum and fife band, which had again been organised, were held. Except for the night time, when the enemy persisted in shelling a dump of artillery ammunition near our farms, our stay at Eecke was quite enjoyable. Leave was still granted, and parties continued to leave each day for the United Kingdom.

On the 13th of July we were inspected by General Plumer, the Army Commander, who complimented us on our turn out—The usual “splendid lot of men” business which we all know.

German attacks on our front were threatened to take place on the 18th of July in the region of Mont Rouge, and the Battalion was accordingly ordered to move up through Boeschepe and was held in reserve for the night in the rear of Mont Rouge, with orders to occupy and defend the line of reserve trenches covering Berthen should the attack develop. However, beyond the usual artillery fire the night was quiet, and we returned just after daybreak to our billets near Eecke. Training was continued for another week, and on the 25th the Battalion moved up to the line near Mont Rouge and relieved the 17th Royal Scots in the support trenches on the Locre sector. Nothing of special interest occurred beyond the usual unpleasantness of trench warfare. Movement by day was practically impossible owing to the German observation from Mont Kemmel, on our left front. For five days we remained in this sector of the line, and were relieved on the night of the 30th by the 2/14th London (Scottish) and marched back towards Boeschepe. We had suffered a few casualties from shelling, but it was great experience for the officers and men who had joined the Battalion since its departure from the French front in 1916. Those of us who remembered the old line at Neuville St. Vaast were struck by the absence of those splendid dug-outs which we had occupied during our first visit to France. On the 3rd of August the Battalion moved back as far as St. Sylvester Cappel and enjoyed a week’s rest.

At the end of the week the Battalion moved to the line and took over the Locrehof sub-sector as supports, and were moved up seven days later to the front line trenches, relieving the London Scottish. Only two days were spent in the front line, when we were relieved by the Queen’s Westminster Rifles and returned from the line to Moth Farm, which lay midway between Boeschepe and Godewaersvelde, and while in rest here it was arranged that our Division should attack the Dranoutre Ridge. We overlooked the German lines throughout their length from the Mont Noir-Mont Rouge Ridge, but the Bosche had the advantage in the possession of the Dranoutre Ridge, a long spur running down from Mont Rouge through Locre, with Dranoutre at its tip, which high ground represented, after successive ebbings and flowings, the mark of the Hun tide of advance there. This ridge, looking down as it did into our front trenches, made approach by day almost impossible; and it set bounds to movement, cooking and life there generally, which only those who had to live there could properly appreciate. The 35th Division, whom we had relieved, had long ago made up their minds to take the ridge, but wet weather set in and their patrols reported the going across “No Man’s Land” impossible; it was therefore left for us to accomplish.

The attack was fixed for the night of the 21st/22nd of August. It entailed an advance of some 300 yards over swampy ground, pocked with shell-holes, the crossing of the River Douvre here a small stream, the ascent up through the straggling Wakefield and Mowbray Woods to the crest, where stood two strongly fortified posts—the old farms of Romp and Locrehof—a total advance of about 1,000 yards. The going was really difficult in the last part, where to the usual tangle of rough grass, shell-holes new and old, odds and ends of trenches and dug-outs was added the presence of trees and some undergrowth, the navigation of which even in daylight and without an enemy or the impedimenta of attack requires a certain care.

The London Scottish represented the 90th Brigade in this show, and that the attack was carried out with courage and great credit is due to the 2/14th Londons, who showed that the Palestine troops were equal to any demands that the Western Front might make upon them.

During the night following the attack the Civil Service Rifles relieved the Scottish in the captured line, which merely consisted of odd shell holes, and there withstood a determined counter-attack delivered by storm troops. Under continual heavy artillery, trench mortar, and machine-gun fire, we helped to consolidate the new front line. Fighting patrols were pushed forward and great courage was displayed by members of the 2/15th, particularly Sergeant P. J. Kelly’s patrol, “C” Company, at Locrehof Farm, and by Lieutenant H. J. Mallett’s patrol, “D” Company.

Wakefield Wood, which was on our front, was heavily shelled with gas shells, but this did not deter the Battalion, and on the 24th of August we drove off a determined counter-attack by the Boche. Local fighting continued until the 26th; but the consolidation of the line progressed, when the Battalion was withdrawn and retired to the comparative security of the dug-outs on Mont Rouge, and on the following day returned to our old billet at Moth Farm for a couple of nights, when a return to Mont Rouge was made.

On the 1st of September the enemy withdrew from Mont Kemmel, and the British line was immediately pushed forward as far as Daylight Corner, and close to Wulverghem. On the night of the 3rd-4th of September we relieved the London Scottish near Wulverghem, which was merely indicated by a notice board with “This is Wulverghem,” and a few chipped and broken tombstones which marked the site of the church. Our orders were to carry on the same policy of advancing as far as possible without a full-dress attack. But we were now up against the outposts of the enemy’s main line of resistance; he held the high ground, and furthermore the ground was of the worst possible type for advance under fire. Hardly a yard of it but had been wired at some time in one direction or another. In fact, it looked exactly as if the wire had taken root and spread like brambles. What was not wire was shell-holes or old trenches full, or perhaps only half full, of water. Any advance at all was creditable. There was, too, from this time a noticeable increase in artillery fire of all calibres, with a fair amount of gas from our line back beyond Daylight Corner to beyond Kemmel. Wulverghem and Daylight Corner succeeded Locre and Canada Corner as targets, with Kemmel as a substitute for the Mont Rouge Hills. Thus, though the left company of the 2/15th Londons managed on the 4th to advance their right about 200 yards and establish new posts east of Wulverghem, efforts during the night of the 4th-5th yielded little in the way of progress, but more in the way of heroism when Private Cleaver stayed by his wounded comrade in “No Man’s Land” until they were found two or three days later. But even as this bald outline suggests, there was plenty of work and opportunity for both leadership and initiative, whether on the part of the Company Commander, e.g., Captain Andrew, whose bold reconnaissances were of as great value to his Company as to the Battalion, or on the part of the Platoon Commanders—Sergeant E. G. Ward, “B” Company, who held on all day in an isolated position far ahead of the general line, or Private Shepherd, “D” Company, who specially distinguished himself by keeping up communication under fire between his own platoon, which was isolated in front, and his Company. On the night of the 5th-6th we were relieved by the Queen’s Westminsters and marched back to Donegal Farm, at the foot of Mont Kemmel, leaving the 2/16th to carry on our work of “peaceful penetration.” After a couple of days’ stay here we marched back as far as Mont Vidagne, where our rest consisted of furnishing strong working parties for road making and clearing up the area near Westoutre. The Battalion transport and Quartermaster’s Stores moved up from Nonne Bosch, near Godewaersvelde, which had been their home since the beginning of August, to a place just west of Westoutre. Not only had this rear headquarters provided us with rations and letters regularly while we were in the line, but they had prepared for us a concert party, a revival of the original “Plumes,” who had worked hard and got together an excellent programme under the able leadership of Lieutenant K. P. Neall, our assistant Quartermaster. A full-dress rehearsal was given in a marquee on the 14th of September on the rear slopes of Mont Vidagne. Other units of the Brigade were invited and gave the party a great reception. One must remember that although the party did not reach the excellence of a London theatre, or even the “Barnstormers” (one of our Egyptian Divisional concert parties), it was composed of men of the transport and Quartermaster’s staff who came up the line each night with rations and shared with the Battalion the unpleasantness of enemy artillery fire and aerial bombing raids. It was not a party of selected entertainers who retired from the fray for the sole purpose of becoming efficient music-hall artists.

On the 16th the Battalion was moved to Mont Noir and Major Benké assumed command.[16] Working parties still continued to work in the Westoutre area, while parties of officers were detailed to make a thorough reconnaissance of the line just beyond Wulverghem and facing Messines Ridge, with a view of relieving the 6th Cheshire Regiment. However, this work was in vain, orders for the relief were cancelled, and we were ordered to move farther south and occupy the support area on the Neuve Eglise Sector, taking over from the Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers.

[16] Lt.-Col. Gaze proceeding on leave.

On the 19th of September the Battalion marched from Mont Vidagne over the captured area as far as Bailleul, which town was now completely devastated, and then turning east arrived at Neuve Eglise about midnight. The relief was carried out successfully, although everyone was tired after their march of some ten or eleven miles.

CHAPTER XL
NEUVE EGLISE—MESSINES—HOUTHEM—WYTSCHAETE

In the Neuve Eglise area the Companies were spread over a considerable area, the whole of which was under the direct observation from the German lines on Messines Ridge. “A” Company was in immediate support to the London Scottish, who were in the line on Hill 63, north of Ploegsteert Wood, while the remaining three Companies were dotted along the defensive line of trenches just east of the village of Neuve Eglise. The Battalion was under orders to garrison this reserve line should the Bosche make an attack on our immediate front. Movement, of course, during daylight was restricted, and at the slightest sign of smoke the enemy would deluge the area with shells, and during one of these strafes “B” Company had to move its home further back, but not without suffering a few casualties. “A” and “C” Company were also unfortunate one night while furnishing working parties in the line, and several of their men were killed and wounded during an enemy bombardment of Hill 63. On the whole, however, a quiet time was spent in this area, and the Battalion was ordered up the line on the 26th of September. We relieved the 6/7th Inniskillings and took over the line in front of Messines town from the right of the main road from Wulverghem to Messines. Headquarters was situated near South Midland Farm, “A” Company were in the front line on the sector adjoining the road, and “C” Company on their right, having Stinking Farm as their right flank. “B” Company provided supports to both front Companies, while “D” Company were held in reserve behind South Midland Farm. The intention was that within a few days the Battalion, in conjunction with other units, should attack and capture Messines Ridge, so that the first days in the line were spent in reconnoitring our front, from which it was learnt that the enemy had a plentiful supply of machine guns. At night-time we were also busy in bringing up and distributing stores which are peculiar to an organised attack, such as red lights, Verey pistols and so forth. To recapture the ridge was less an operation by itself than an operation supplementary to a much larger attack further north.

The 2/16th Queen’s Westminsters were on our right and the 2/17th Londons on our left. The main road from Wulverghem to Messines formed the general line of the direction of our attack. On the Divisional front the first objectives were some enemy strong points close to our front line, and directly in front of our Battalion were three such strongholds, viz., Big Bull Cottage, Boyles Farm and Rome Alley. The attack was timed for dawn on the 28th, and at 5.30 a.m. our artillery opened up their bombardment on our front. It was not a creeping barrage, which had by that time become fairly perfect, but was rather a treatment of carefully-selected places and areas to cover the advance of our Companies on their allotted strong points to be attacked. Both our attacking Companies got well off the mark under this artillery preparation and possessed themselves of their objectives, the greatest resistance coming from Big Bull Cottage, where most of the occupants were killed, and before 7 a.m. the Battalion had claimed seventeen prisoners and nine machine guns. The Battalion on our left were also successful in capturing Mortar Farm and Ontario Farm. This clearing of the way for the advance to the Messines Ridge, though perhaps more an affair of fighting patrols than a staged attack, called for a good deal of initiative on the part of Company, Platoon and Subordinate Commanders in rushing and getting around machine guns when even the mere covering of the ground alone presented considerable difficulties. All the enemy strong points to be attacked had the armaments of machine guns, Captain Peatfield’s Company, “A,” our left attacking Company, accounting for six, Second-Lieutenant Pittam leading the platoon that captured them. Lance-Sergeant P. Mason, of “A” Company, mopped up a post of four with no little dash and skill, helped by the daring reconnaissances of the previous night, in which Private J. Volke had a notable share.

“C” Company (Captain F. H. Du Heaume) had also pushed forward and captured a network of trenches known as Rome Alley, driving off the garrison and killing a few of the enemy, while their patrols afterwards pushed towards Gabion Farm, which was strongly held by the enemy. Against this strong point “C” Company had to form a defensive flank, as the 2/16th Battalion had not advanced in the first stage of the day’s operations. No determined counter-attack was made on our front, although the enemy was active with his snipers and machine guns.

“B” Company moved forward during the attack from their position in support and occupied our original front line, while “D” Company was brought up to occupy the support line vacated by “B” Company.

The new front was then held pending the result of the greater attack taking place further north, while on our right the 2/16th Battalion (Queen’s Westminsters) assisted during the afternoon on the left flank of the attack of the 31st Division through Ploegsteert Wood, which met with considerable resistance, and the Westminsters suffered considerable casualties. The actual attack took place about 3 p.m. in the afternoon of the 28th, and turned out to be no easy task. The element of surprise which had assisted us was of course entirely lacking, and the progress of the troops on our right was attended with difficulties, and the Bosche made a determined stand, but under pressure gradually gave way.

By this time the success of the operations further north had begun to tell and, pressed on his right flank as well as in front, the enemy began to withdraw over the ridge in the late afternoon. His passage over the ridge, which of course was visible, was hastened by our artillery and machine-gun fire, which the sight of the enemy on the run in broad daylight naturally provoked. More than that, the Division could now, while still preserving the role of flanking the attack further north, push on to the ridge. Orders were accordingly issued for further patrols to advance over the ridge in the evening and secure a line east of Messines itself, curving back on the right to keep in touch with the troops there. This implied following the dip into the hollow of the Steenbecque River and its steepish rise to the top of the ridge, the whole way a pitted and torn desolation of the familiar type. Progress in the dark—it was pitch dark that night—was necessarily slow over such ground.

During the late afternoon and the evening our advance companies pushed forward, meeting small resistance from the enemy’s rearguards. “A” Company on the left were able to push forward past Hospice Mill and actually entered the ruined village of Messines before midnight. The advance of “C” Company was necessarily slower as the troops on our right were held up, and it became necessary for us to form a defensive flank. Unfortunately, it was found inadvisable to hold the village of Messines, as the Battalion on our left had also met some strong resistance, and the salient which we formed became particularly unpleasant and it was ordered that we should withdraw from the village itself and occupy Hospice Mill, on the western outskirts, where “B” Company had pushed out in support of “A” Company during the advance to the village. In view of the advance being continued the following day, it was decided that “D” Company should relieve “A” Company in the front line, and “B” Company should continue as supports and “A” and “C” Companies be held in Battalion reserve. Great credit is due to all concerned for the excellent manner in which this reorganisation was carried out on such a dark night and over strange country covered with shell-holes, trenches and with entanglements. The first day’s work had been very successful.

Our casualties were comparatively small when one realises the advance we had made, and most of them were the result of heavy artillery fire which had continued all day on our old front line, and, curious as it may seem, Headquarters suffered most, one unlucky shell killing nine and wounding five others seriously. Amongst those killed by this shell was our R.S.M. H. W. Lovelock, well known to both the 1st and 2nd Battalions.

By daylight on the 29th, however, the ridge was ours for the taking, and in the heavy mist at dawn parties of the Battalion pushed forward and by seven o’clock were in the village and over the ridge. Messines, with its memories of four years’ fighting, passed into British hands again, and this time for good. There was, indeed, little else than memories, save the jagged cairn which had been the church, the ruined houses which had been made into concrete blockhouses, some of them left intact, or nearly so, and a few broken tombstones on the site of the cemetery. The Messines Ridge in the chill of a misty, late September morning, when you have been fighting since dawn the day before, and do not know where in the mist the enemy is hidden, provides neither time nor the place for philosophising. The ridge, from being an objective, became merely a road to the valley of the Lys. Somewhere there, as not infrequently in the history of Flanders, we might expect a stand to be made. The task of the Division was to see that it was made as far east of the ridge as possible—at any rate, as far as the line of the Ypres-Comines Canal, so well known and so little loved in the Salient farther north.

In order to carry out this idea the Battalion was ordered to push forward at dawn and advance as far as Houthem, and if possible make for the line of the Canal, a distance of over three miles. Except for constant artillery fire the first mile of the advance on our actual front was carried out with few losses to ourselves. However, we soon came under the direct observation of the captive balloons behind the German lines, and his artillery fire became heavier and well directed.

As no other British troops were to be seen over the ridge it was decided to halt about 2.0 p.m., and while waiting for further developments we had the pleasure of seeing one of our airmen bring down two of the enemy balloons in flames. They were immediately replaced by another balloon, but its life was short and the airman returned and downed it. An enemy plane, flying low, came over our position, but luckily no artillery fire resulted.

Just after 2.0 p.m. we saw a British skirmishing line advance on our left, and patrols soon got in touch, to find that it was the 2nd Battalion of the South Lancashires, of the 89th Brigade, who had pushed through the 2/17th Londons and taken up the pursuit. After consultation between the two Battalion commanders it was decided to push on together towards Houthem Church, as the 2nd South Lancashires were in touch with a Battalion of the 41st Division on their left. On our right matters were not so clear, and the heavy machine-gun fire confirmed our idea that the Boche was making a stand. The first part of our advance from Messines was over ground which had been in our hands the previous winter, while the latter half was enemy territory and unknown to us. The “going” down the slope was easier than on the west side of the ridge, though still a desolation of rank grass and old shell-holes. Houses, of course, there were none. Remnants of trenches and wire entanglements still served to remind us of the former British front line area. The only solid things were the pill-boxes left vacant, and in many cases intact, by the retreating enemy. By our rapid advance we were able to materially assist the advance of the 41st Division on our left by outflanking the enemy machine-gunners.

On our right the advance had been taken up by the London Scottish, and during the night of the 29th of September they entered Warneton.

After we had linked up with the South Lancashires we were able to push forward without meeting much opposition, and lost only a few men wounded. When darkness came we had reached the Ypres-Comines Canal, and took up a defensive line near the Canal near Houthem, turning our right flank to face south, as we had not at that time obtained touch with our troops on the right. We used the numerous pill-boxes as rain began to fall, and except for intermittent artillery fire and an occasional burst of machine-gun fire which caused us a few casualties, the night was quiet. Signal communication by lamp was obtained with Brigade Headquarters on Messines Ridge. By dawn on the 30th of September our right flank was secured by the Queen’s Westminsters who arrived during the night, and the Brigade formed the extreme right of the great advance which was proceeding successfully from the banks of the Lys to the north. The River Lys forming a protection to the retiring enemy made it necessary for a great deal of preliminary work to be done before any advance in that direction could be undertaken.

Next day brought no further advance on our front, the 30th Division was flanking an attack rather than making one, and so regulated its movements to those of the forces on the left where the line went away north-east towards Gheluwe and onwards. We were free to close up the tail of the Division behind Messines Ridge, to improve shelter where there was none—which was practically everywhere—to clear roads, and to count the spoil. The number of prisoners taken was small, but if there is a peculiar pleasure in capturing guns which have shelled you for days and nights together, that pleasure was ours, for the Division took four 8-inch howitzers, three 5·9-inch howitzers, one 5·9-inch gun, three 4·2-inch howitzers and a similar number of guns, and 24 field guns. Any one who cared might possess himself of a trench-mortar or a machine-gun with sufficient ammunition for a month’s fighting. The whole battlefield was, in fact, strewn with material from trench boards to 15-inch “duds”—relics of the British bombardment the previous year. The only road for transport and guns was the Wulverghem-Messines road. A very large crater completely demolishing it had been blown just east of the Steenbecque, where the road ran over an embankment. The enemy had also placed 36 tank mines across the road. These were all removed and the crater bridged to take lorry traffic by midday on the 29th of September. On the morning of the 30th the Divisional front, which had been gradually lessened in width by the advance from the north of the 41st Division and on the south by the 31st Division, was handed over to the reserve Brigade (the 21st Brigade) and the Battalion was withdrawn and marched back to Messines Ridge, and occupied old Hun dug-outs and pill-boxes near Blauen Mullen, where Colonel Gaze rejoined from leave. Our rest, however, was soon disturbed, and the area was heavily shelled, causing casualties, especially among the men of “B” Company, and after a short and unpleasant stay on this part of the ridge the Battalion moved to Oosttaverne Wood, a little farther north. The march proved exciting, as a Boche plane came over our lines and cleverly set fire to five of our observation balloons in such quick fashion that no less than ten airmen were parachuting to earth at the same time.

Oosttaverne Wood proved a very desolate spot, and it was with great difficulty that the Battalion obtained sufficient cover from the cold weather. Most of the dug-outs and pill-boxes in this devastated wood were under water. However, being free from enemy observation and the consequent artillery fire made up a great deal for the discomfort. A few days later the Battalion went farther back towards Wytschaete, where a fairly clean area was found and better accommodation was discovered. It was a restful time and some of the more energetic members of the Battalion journeyed to Ypres to see the “sights.” Lieutenant-Colonel A. W. Gaze, M.C., left the Battalion for a Senior Officers’ Course at Camberley, and the command of the Battalion was given to Lieutenant-Colonel A. C. H. Benké, M.C.

CHAPTER XLI
AMERICA CORNER—THE ATTACK—CROSSING THE LYS—BOUS—BECQUE—RONCQ—THE PURSUIT TOWARDS THE RIVER SCHELDT—PETIT TOURCOING—AVELGHEM—THE ARMISTICE—COURTRAI AREA—MARCH OVER DEVASTATED AREA VIA ARMENTIERES—BOESINGHEM—BASE DUTIES—THE END.

On the 11th of October, 1918, the Battalion left their camp near Wytschaete and marched to take over the line at America Corner, about 1½ miles north of Wervicq. This relief entailed a long march of about 12 miles. The first part was done during the morning, when a halt was made under the cover of a small ridge about a mile west of Houthem. The weather was fine and the enemy artillery did not bother us on this part of the journey. On the way we passed two derelict British Tanks, relics of our advance in 1917. From the halt advance parties of an officer and a few N.C.O.’s from each Company went forward, but it was not until dusk that the Battalion was able to continue their march over the canal bridge at Houthem and thence via Tenbrilen. The roads were difficult, and as the country had been in enemy hands many new tracks and roads had been made, and, together with the darkness and the inevitable rain which accompanies most marches, attacks and reliefs, the latter part of the journey became very trying. The advance parties who left earlier in the day came under very heavy artillery fire near their destination, and were met by large parties of British troops who had been “gassed”—an unpleasant omen. The whole area near America Corner was soaked with gas, and the place was littered with dead horses. The Headquarters of the Battalion we were to relieve had been reduced to the Commanding Officer, who lay on the floor of the dug-out blinded by the gas, while practically all the remainder of Headquarters Company had suffered from the gas shells and had been evacuated. The R.A.M.C. men, who were busy in this gas-stricken zone, which was still being shelled when the advance parties of our Battalion arrived, deserved the highest praise for their devotion to duty. Here, indeed, was a pleasant outlook, and before the Battalion had arrived some of our own advance party had suffered and had to be evacuated, including Acting R.S.M. Dyer, who, unfortunately, was killed later on in the day, an enemy shell landing right on the ambulance car in which he was travelling some six miles farther back. In the evening heavy rain fell, and the Battalion struggled in the dark along the shelled roads which were now covered in thick mud. About 11 p.m. the Battalion arrived at America Corner, and fortunately at that time when the shelling had diminished, only to learn that the Battalions in the line on both flanks were just about to raid the Boche lines. Before the Companies could form up under their guides, a heavy artillery duel opened up, and, of course, every one took immediate cover wherever possible. Luckily only a few minor casualties resulted, and the relief was continued. The Battalion, however, had practically no time to learn anything of their new surroundings before daybreak, as the enemy continued to shell the area throughout the night. When dawn came it was found that we were under observation from the Boche trenches, and that Battalion Headquarters was only a matter of 250 yards from the front enemy trenches, and overlooked by Wervicq Church, where the enemy had an Observation Post. Not that there is anything particularly daring about this fact, but Battalion Headquarters is always the centre of attraction for thousands of runners from rear authorities, asking for the quantity of jam, etc., when the real thing to be considered is the enemy artillery and the preparation for the coming attack. Besides, constant callers always make a place conspicuous, even if that place is in a quiet suburban street, and with the perfect observation of the enemy we had no desire to become conspicuous. Throughout the day the enemy continued to shell the area, devoting much of his “gaseous” attentions on America Corner. Two days were given to us to acquaint ourselves with this sector, and as no movement was possible by day it meant a great deal of night work and practically no rest.

The night before the attack rations were brought up on pack mules by our Quartermaster, Captain Joslin, and his assistant, Lieutenant Wright. Both these officers found great difficulty in persuading the mules to come up with the rations, and the prospect of being heavily shelled on the return journey while in charge of these stupid animals was not encouraging for them. However, they were soon relieved; an orderly put his head into the pill-box entrance and gravely informed them that a shell had just arrived and disposed of their four-footed friends. Wright had a leave warrant for England on the morrow in his pocket, yet he came up to this inferno just to wish us “Cheerio and Good Luck,” although his attendance was not officially necessary.

The attack was ordered for dawn on the 14th of October, and the artillery opened up a most terrific barrage at 5.30 a.m., and after a four minute bombardment of the enemy front lines the attack was launched under the same heavy volume of artillery fire which gradually crept forward. “Jumping-off” lines had been laid out the previous night, and from these the Battalion advanced close on the creeping barrage in which a great number of smoke shells were used. Within 30 minutes of the commencement of the attack, German prisoners poured into our lines; apparently under this fierce artillery fire they had made very little resistance in the front line. No less than 313 prisoners, including 9 officers, passed through our Battalion Headquarters within a half-hour.

The 2/14th attacked on our left and with us were successful in reaching the first objectives near the railway line from Wervicq to Menin.

Some individual cases of gallantry reported were: Sergeant B. Coultard, “B” Company, who, with his Platoon, did yeoman work, and rounded up 45 of the enemy; Corporal C. D. Lodge, “C” Company, with his men cleared the wire defences of a strong point and carried it; Private Oakes, “D” Company, single-handed rushed an enemy pill-box, put 14 of the enemy out of action, with rifle and bombs and then took 10 prisoners. Lance-Corporal J. Barnsfather, “B” Company, and Corporal W. J. Mash, “D” Company, were not far behind in their performances.

All along the line the first rush had succeeded, and under cover of a barrage from our artillery the Battalion halted and consolidated in preparation for a counter-attack. While the attack was proceeding all occupied areas behind the Boche lines were bombarded with a great number of gas shells. Although the resistance from the Boche troops was small, their artillery was not slow in replying to our fire, and a heavy bombardment of the British lines was soon in full swing.

The next step was to exploit this initial success and to push on up to and, if possible, across, the River Lys, whilst the enemy was still disorganised and his guns on the move. On the right this involved the clearing of Wervicq, in whose narrow streets and half broken-down houses there were still a good many machine-guns and snipers. By this time the mist and smoke had gone, and the advance was entirely uncovered in any way, for there was practically no ground cover here. Patrols pushed out towards the Lys as soon as the first objective was gained were held up by machine-gun fire, and, in part, by the old wire that still remained.

From the newly-captured position the ground on our direct front sloped gradually to the River Lys, and it was devoid of all cover; in daylight it was impossible to push forward without incurring unnecessary casualties. In the dusk, however, patrols pushed out and found that the enemy had retired to the farther bank of the river, but had destroyed all the bridges by fire. About midnight, however, “A” Company, under Captain Du Heaume, were able to make a crossing by a bridge which had not been quite destroyed, just to the right of our direct front, and afterwards he was able to take his Company along the farther bank and form a bridgehead near Bousbecque. Under cover of this bridgehead the Sappers, under Major Atkinson, R.E., placed a pontoon bridge across the river, though during the whole of its construction the work was hindered by artillery and machine-gun fire. Just after dawn the remainder of the Battalion crossed the river and occupied Bousbecque, a village which had been badly damaged by our artillery.

We cleared the village and in the early morning were able to form a defensive line on the far outskirts. It was, however, impossible for us to push on any farther, as we were held up on our direct front by a heavily-wired line of trenches known as the Linselles Switch. Furthermore, on our right the situation was not quite clear and heavy fighting was in progress, while the London Scottish on our left were unable to effect a crossing of the Lys owing to the flat nature of the ground to their front, which was swept by machine-gun fire from the high factories on the farther bank nearer Menin. Later in the day, however, the 14th Division had forced a crossing near Wervicq, and were able to push up on our right, and on this flank the enemy gradually withdrew. During the afternoon the London Scottish came over to their right and crossed our pontoon bridge and came into Bousbecque. By this time the enemy had left the Linselles Switch under our pressure, and we were able to occupy the high ground east of the village of Bousbecque from Mont D’Halluin to Roncq. The line was continued on our right by the 31st Division which had then pushed through the 14th Division, while on our left the 2/16th Londons (Queen’s Westminsters) continued the line north-east as far as Reckem, having experienced some hard fighting in crossing the Lys just south of Menin by means of rafts made from old doors, duck-boards, etc. In the evening the London Scottish moved from Bousbecque to Roncq for the night, when they were ordered to continue the pursuit next morning after their night’s rest.

During the night of the 17th of October the Battalion held the Mont D’Halluin—Roncq outpost line, but as the Boche was retreating fast and was not expected to make a real stand until he reached the River Scheldt, the night was peaceful, and the civilians in the neighbourhood gave our men a hearty welcome. In the farm occupied by Battalion Headquarters the Hun had left his playing cards on the table in the middle of a game, while at the piano were fragments of German songs.

The next morning the London Scottish continued the pursuit on the Brigade front, while the 2/15th and 2/16th followed in their wake in column of route, as far as Kruistraat. Not until passing this village did the 2/14th meet any opposition, but on the ridge a couple of miles beyond were many well-placed and concealed enemy machine-guns which arrested their progress. According to plan the Scottish were to have passed over this ridge that day, but in view of this enemy rear-guard were unable to do so. In spite of this temporary hold-up, however, our own Battalion was ordered to billet in farms practically in the firing line. Remarkable as it may seem, the London Scottish support Company was actually behind our Battalion Headquarters, where we were enjoying a nice hot meal, and slept in comfortable beds.

During the night while we slept, however, the 2/14th pushed over the ridge, and the next day we resumed our march forward. Except for the visit of a Boche plane which flew over our column and was brought down by Lewis gun fire, the journey to Aelbeke was without incident. That night we were in comfortable billets in private houses and farms near the town which had been untouched by the ravages of war. The stationmaster where the writer was billeted produced an English Grammar which he had studied for this “day” when British troops should arrive, and consequently spent the evening in questioning us in his laboured English.

On the following days the advance was continued by the 2/14th and 2/16th Battalions, and except for a slight check at Rollinghem, where the enemy had two field guns firing from the market place, little opposition was met. On the 20th these advance Battalions had reached the high ground at St. Genois overlooking the Scheldt, the patrols of the London Scottish actually reaching the banks of the river that night. However, the enemy resistance showed signs of increase, and heavy artillery fire from the farther banks of the river informed us that the Boche was making a stand here. On the same night the Battalion moved forward towards Petit Tourcoing, and were billeted in the farm-houses just behind the St. Genois Ridge.

The advance being held up by the German defences on the east bank of the Scheldt, the Brigade was withdrawn from the line and remained in billets in the Petit Tourcoing area until the end of the month. As much rest as possible was given to the troops, and in the fine autumn weather sports and football were indulged in. The countryside had not been destroyed by war, and looked very clean and beautiful after the desolation of the Messines area, where the ebb and flow of the fighting had destroyed nature for miles around. During our stay here the 30th Divisional Concert Party (“The Optimists”) gave us an excellent evening’s entertainment in one of the large barns, and except for a few practice attacks over the open we had a restful time. The appearance of home-made rafts on a local pond at the end of the month, however, made us think seriously of watery graves in the Scheldt.

On the 1st of November we were ordered to take over the line at Avelghem on the Scheldt, and after a trying march we relieved a Battalion of the King’s Royal Rifles. Although our approach march was disturbed by enemy shelling we suffered no casualties. Avelghem itself was on the banks of the Scheldt and was overlooked by the Mont D’Enclus (150 feet) on the farther bank. Previous to our recent advance the town had been a peaceful market town, but now it was battered to the ground by the German artillery, and the last few civilians were leaving in haste when we arrived. The line held by the Battalion was on the bank of the river in front of the town and extended north as far as Rugge, where a bridgehead on the farther bank had been established.

The care of the bridgehead was entrusted to “B” Company, under Captain Lewis, while the remaining Companies occupied cellars in the town and in the farm-houses near by. Our days were spent underground, as the Boche had complete observation of our lines, but at night our transport brought up rations, and we prepared ourselves for the next day under the ground. Each morning just before dawn the enemy barraged our position with a heavy artillery “strafe”—no doubt anticipating a further attack from us.

On Sunday, the 3rd of November, the Boche concentrated his attentions on Avelghem Church, and in about six hours of constant shelling reduced a most beautiful building into absolute ruin. The following day the Battalion was relieved, and returned as far as Knocke, about four miles farther back. After a night’s rest here a further move was expected and in the evening orders were actually received from Brigade. Billeting parties left for the new area and commenced their work. The Battalion soon followed, accompanied by the inevitable rain, only to be turned back on reaching the new area to find that the change had been cancelled. When we returned to our former homes we found another unit occupying the best places, and it was with difficulty that we found accommodation. However, this crowding only lasted for one night, and the next morning we moved still farther back, a distance of about six miles, just to the north of Belleghem.

On the 9th of November the enemy evacuated Mont D’Enclus, and the next day we were brought forward towards the Scheldt as far as Heerstert, just west of Avelghem. On arriving in the village we found it full of troops and heard rumours that British cavalry had passed through earlier in the day. At the same time, however, a German Taube was hovering overhead, and we anticipated a bombing raid that night. We realised that the Boche had retired so far that his artillery was unlikely to trouble us, but we hated this inquisitive ’plane circling overhead.

That night rumours of an Armistice became prevalent. Every one turned out of his billet and, led by our Drum and Fife Band, we paraded up and down the main street of the village. In the midst of this excitement, however, news came from Brigade that no official news had been received confirming the rumoured cessation of hostilities, and this so depressed us that we gradually faded away one by one to our billets. The next morning ordinary routine was pursued, and no one dared to utter the word “armistice” without receiving disparaging remarks from his hearers.

About 9.0 a.m., however, the official telegram came through and the rumour of the previous night was confirmed. All the excitement of an armistice, however, had been squashed the previous night; the sting had gone. During the afternoon a thanksgiving service was held in the local church. The Battalion remained at Heerstert until the 15th November, and many took advantage of the opportunity of visiting the enemy defences on the banks of the Scheldt under more peaceful conditions than anticipated. A couple of large fatigue parties were furnished for work at Escanaffles on the east of the river, but difficulty arose with regard to the supply of rations, etc., and the Battalion was withdrawn and marched back to the St. Annes Area, south of Courtrai, which had now become an important railhead.

The rest here was much appreciated, and beyond the passing of military transport there were no signs of war. Parades were held in the morning, but the remainder of the day was devoted to games, chiefly football. Passes to Courtrai were freely granted.

A ceremonial parade for the presentation of medal ribbons was held on the 26th of November on the local aerodrome, and beyond the preparation for this parade little demand was made on the energy of the troops.

On the 30th of November orders were received to move back still further to the St. Omer area, and this necessitated a five days’ trek. The first day’s halt was made at Linselles, where we saw the terrible effect of the British artillery fire during the attack over the River Lys in October, and also the wanton destruction of the Hun hordes, who had deliberately broken furniture and mirrors, and had slashed the covering from upholstered furniture. The night’s billets were very uncomfortable, but as it was for one night only no one troubled. The next day we proceeded to Verlighem, and here we were quartered in an extensive hut encampment which the Germans had cleverly concealed from aerial observation, in a thick wood. A comfortable night was spent here in the bunks so recently vacated by our enemies. All along the route to this point were signs of the hurried retreat of the Boche, and we wondered why he had left such strongly-defended points with so little real resistance. In places the wire entanglements were 30 yards in depth, through which no troops could advance without a terrible massacre. The third day’s journey took us to Armentieres, and it was appalling to see this great town practically razed to the ground. Undoubtedly the retiring Hun had blown up many of the fine buildings and churches by mines, and except for a few French troops wandering about the ruins, there was no sign of human habitation. The day’s march ended at Sailly-sur-la-Lys, and here in absolute desolation the cover of dug-outs and tumble-down buildings, the Battalion rested for the night. Opposite Battalion Headquarters on the main road was a huge German cemetery containing no less than nine thousand numbered graves; a grim relic of the heavy fighting in this area in March, 1918, the dates on the crosses being evidence of the period. Many French peasants were wandering aimlessly over the fields, looking for their lost treasures, and it was pathetic to see them building temporary homes with the old material, such as ammunition boxes, corrugated iron, biscuit tins, and so forth, which littered the old battlefield. The following morning the march was continued through Estaires and Merville, and the same devastation greeted us all round. It was not until evening time, when approaching St. Venant, that we met occupied farms where the occupants carried out their daily toil regardless of the adjoining desolation. A short journey on the 4th of December just south of the Nieppe Forest brought us to our destination at Boesinghem, a few miles north-east of Aire, when Lieutenant-Colonel Gaze rejoined from England, and again took over the command. Billets were soon arranged, and improved on our acquaintance—combined with hard work and cleaning, which did a great deal towards this improvement. Arrangements were immediately made for Christmas time, and when the 25th of December arrived everything was carried out with great success, although doubts were entertained until the very last minute as to whether the goods would arrive in time. At Boesinghem touch with our 1st Battalion in the Lillers area was obtained, and inter-Battalion football matches were arranged.

From this time the Battalion commenced to fade away. The fighting over, demobilisation set in, and every day some familiar faces left the Battalion to re-enter civil life. Early in January the Battalion moved to Etaples, where, after a stay of about nine days, they entrained for the Dunkirk area and encamped at Mardyck. In February the Battalion, much depleted in strength, developed into a “General Purposes” Battalion, and carried out Base duties. In the following month they were relieved of these duties, and moved to Pont de Petite Synthe, only to be moved again by train to the Etaples area, first staying at Dannes and then at St. Cecile Plage.

From here “C” and “D” Companies were detailed for duty at a Prisoner of War Camp near Boulogne.

In May a further move was made towards Abbeville, and a new home was found in the Ciquier Area. Demobilisation increased at a great pace, and by September only 155 other ranks remained. Canteen stores were sold to another regiment, and without canteen stores no regiment can exist.

3rd Battalion Civil Service Rifles
By Major H. Duncan Lewis

The 3rd, subsequently the Reserve, Battalion, was raised in May, 1915, for the purpose of furnishing drafts to the 1st and 2nd Battalions. Lieutenant-Colonel R. C. Hayes, T.D., relinquishing the command of the 2nd Battalion, was appointed Commanding Officer, and retained the position until he was disabled by an unfortunate accident during a Madsen gun demonstration on the miniature rifle range at Wimbledon in May, 1918. He was succeeded by Lieutenant-Colonel C. M. Mackenzie, D.S.O., who commanded the 2nd Battalion of the Kensingtons in France and Palestine. Lieutenant-Colonel Mackenzie remained with the Battalion until it was broken up shortly after the Armistice, when he was appointed Commandant of the Demobilisation Camp at Wimbledon.

The men were at first billeted at their homes and assembled daily at Somerset House for preliminary organisation, drill and route marching.