Canada in Flanders, Volume II

by Baron Max Aitken Beaverbrook

THE COUNTER-ATTACK

Method of counter-attack—Successful efforts of the French—The question of time—Attacks which failed—Precipitancy of main counter-attack—Enemy reinforced—The assaulting forces—Inadequate system of railways—Failure of well-laid plans—Value of armoured cables—A stroke of misfortune—Uncertainty as to the enemy's positions—A test of endurance—Defective communications—Artillery unable to support infantry—An American officer gives a lead—The death of Major Stuart—Observatory Ridge—Enemy well supplied with machine-guns—The fatal trench—Heavy casualties—Gallant attempt of the 15th Battalion—The 14th Battalion digs itself in under heavy fire—The fateful gap bridged—Lieut. Beaton and Sergt. Topham—The Higher Command misinformed—Misfortunes of the 52nd and 60th Battalions—The Princess Pats cheer their comrades—Gallant officers of the 49th—Main object of the counter-attack fails—The road to Ypres blocked to the enemy—The 3rd Division wins its spurs—A prospect of defeat turned into an achievement of victory.

The doctrine of the counter-attack is one of the most simple in theory, and yet it appears to be one of the most difficult to apply effectively in practice. The idea is to take advantage of that confusion which must always beset an enemy in a victorious advance, and to strike him violently with the impact of new and well-organised troops from the second or support line of the defenders. The French have reduced this method to a fine art by punishing the Germans severely in their advance on a lightly held trench, allowing them to occupy it, and then turning them out at the point of the bayonet by a strong counter-attack from troops ready in the support line trenches just behind. It may also be used in the last resort to rally broken troops returning on their own line and threatening confusion to all concerned, or to repel an enemy adverse to bayonet fighting, rather than allow him to get into one's own trench.

All these methods of counter-attacking are largely questions of timing, like the blow delivered by a skilled boxer. You cannot hit too soon, but if you hit too late you fail. The time limit for the launching of this assault in the later stages of modern warfare is practically decided by the interval which it takes an enemy to get into some kind of cover and bring up his machine-guns. After that the confusion in the ranks of the opponents has vanished, the machine-guns are waiting, and artillery preparation is ineffective, as the gunners have not yet had time to locate and register the enemy positions with sufficient accuracy to make sure of putting those machine-guns out of action.

This chapter is the record of a counter-attack which failed, but it is only fair to the brigades which undertook the assault to point out that it took place eighteen hours after the Germans had made their first rush and many hours after they had fortified their new positions. During these eighteen hours it had been impossible to locate with any exactitude the new lines taken up by the Germans, so that while our artillery peppered the whole ridge very effectively, they could not concentrate on and wipe out trenches of the existence and position of which they were unaware.

It has been pointed out in the last chapter that the real counter-attack of the afternoon, or evening, of June 2nd could not be delivered because there were not at hand troops in sufficient force to attempt the task. Gunnery had gone too fast in its development for infantry tactics. The rim of the saucer, which could have been held against all odds eighteen months before, had been carried by the new artillery, and yet it was in effect the last and only defence of the Ypres salient. It is not possible to-day to defend on a single line of defence, and yet the Canadian Corps had been compelled by the logic of events and the policy of its predecessors to do so. Indeed, since Lord Ernest Hamilton wrote of the Mount Sorrel position as "the natural line," the whole science of defence had undergone a drastic change owing to the increased sweeping power of heavy artillery. A position must have "lungs," as Verdun proved—first lines which can be lost without overwhelming consequences. In the northern section of the Ypres salient there were at least three defensible sets of trenches with good sweeping ranges of fire, one behind the other, but here in the south-east the configuration of the ground did not permit of a dual or triple system. Lose one position of defence and you lose all. This fact no doubt accounts for the anxiety of the Corps and for the haste with which the main counter-attack was launched.

The original decision to attack was taken before 4 p.m. on June 2nd, and the Divisional Commanders of the 1st and 3rd Divisions were aware of it shortly afterwards, although the actual operation orders were not issued until 9.45 p.m. that day.

June 2nd, 9.45 P.M.

The real difficulty was to get the troops up in time for an attack at dawn. In the ordinary course of events the natural troops to undertake such a task are the support and reserve battalions of the brigades which have lost the position, if a prompt decision is to be reached before the enemy can build himself in. But so serious had been the fighting of the morning that of these the 49th Battalion (Edmonton Regiment), Colonel Griesbach, alone had not yet been drawn into the fighting in the front line. The 5th Canadian Mounted Rifles, the 2nd Canadian Mounted Rifles, and the 42nd Battalion (Royal Highlanders), under Lieut.-Col. Cantlie, were already used up. Furthermore, it was known that at 9 o'clock on the night of the 2nd the Germans had been heavily reinforced, and a rough guess might have put their numbers at anything between four and five thousand. A strong assailing force was therefore necessary. The 3rd Brigade of the 1st Division, which was in corps reserve, and two battalions of the 9th Brigade of the 3rd Division, 52nd Battalion, New Ontario Regiment, under Lieut.-Colonel Hay, and the 60th Battalion (Victoria Rifles), under Lieut.-Colonel Gascoigne, were therefore sent up. Two battalions of the 2nd Brigade of the 1st Division, 5th Battalion (Western Cavalry), under Lieut.-Colonel Dyer, and the 8th Battalion (Winnipeg Rifles), under Major Humble, were already in the trenches on the right of the line, and had, with the exception of the 5th Battalion, been only slightly engaged. The 7th (British Columbia) Battalion, under Lieut.-Colonel Odlum, and the 10th (Western Canada) Battalion, under Lieut.-Colonel Rattray, were in support and reserve.

The new troops then at the disposal of the General Officer Commanding in charge of the attack were the 7th and 10th Battalions (2nd Brigade), General Lipsett, the 13th, 14th, 15th and 16th Battalions (3rd Brigade), General Tuxford, the 49th of the 7th Brigade, and the 52nd and 60th of the 9th Brigade, making a total of nine battalions. The 58th and 43rd Battalions of the 9th Brigade were not made use of in the fighting at the time. All these were placed under the command of General Hoare-Nairne, of the 3rd Division. That officer, in the conference which preceded the formation of the plan, had put forward the view that, rather than make a frontal assault across the open, it would be better to start from what I have called the Apex of the defence (the projecting angle between Zouave Wood and Maple Copse) and bomb a way up the various communication trenches towards Hill 62 into the heart of the enemy's country and then spread right and left along our own original line. It was agreed, however, that such an advance through an intricate tangle of trenches involved first-hand knowledge of the ground on the part of the troops engaged; otherwise the result would be confusion worse confounded. None of the fresh troops available had this knowledge, and it was therefore decided somewhat reluctantly to risk the frontal assault. June 3rd, 2 A.M. The attack was originally to be at dawn and to be delivered on a wide frontage—both precautions to obviate the deadly effect of the machine-guns. On the right, Colonel Rattray, with the 7th in advance and the 10th close in support, was to carry the south aspect of Observatory Ridge, and finally Mount Sorrel. Brigadier-General Lipsett, the Commander of the 2nd Brigade, was to see that this attack conformed with the movements of the centre battalions under General Tuxford of the 3rd Brigade. These two were old comrades, and well accustomed to work together; they decided to set up common Brigade Headquarters. The centre was the 3rd Brigade—the 15th Battalion (48th Highlanders) under Lieut.-Colonel Bent advancing on the left of the 7th, with the 16th Battalion (Canadian Scottish) under Lieut.-Colonel Leckie in support and the 14th Battalion (Royal Montreal Regiment), under Major McCombe to the left again, with the 13th Battalion (Royal Highlanders) under Lieut.-Colonel Buchanan close behind it. The right of the 3rd Brigade was Square Wood and the left Maple Copse, with Observatory Ridge Road as the point of junction between its two battalions. The objective of the 3rd Brigade was Hill 62. Farther north still, and not in immediate contact, the 49th Battalion of the 7th Brigade was to attack through the southern section of Sanctuary Wood and the 52nd Battalion of the 9th Brigade to the north again, while the 60th Battalion acted as support. Their aim was the position between Hill 62 and the Royal Canadian Regiment, still in place at Hooge. Such in brief was the plan. It was to prove, unfortunately, as fallible in execution as sweeping measures hurriedly conceived under the stress of war are apt to be.

There were two main difficulties: to get the troops up in time and to co-ordinate the artillery and the infantry so as to get the preparation and the assault to move as if by clockwork. But time was the great enemy. The original attack, as has been stated, was timed for 2 a.m. on June 3rd. The 3rd Brigade was back in Corps Reserve, and found the roads blocked with ambulances, transport, and ammunition.[[1]] June 3rd, 4.15 A.M. It struggled vigorously, but could not get into position until 4.15 a.m. on June 3rd, and the 2nd Brigade, which was already on the spot, could not attack without it. This upset the whole of the arrangements with the artillery, and these had to be rectified under conditions which were far from satisfactory for accurate Staff work. The telephone lines were constantly broken, and the heroic runners were frequently killed.[[2]] The armoured cables[[3]] were the main stand-by. On the left the 49th were ready at 2.10 a.m., but without their left-hand battalion (the 52nd) or their support (the 60th). As a result of these delays, the attack was delivered in broad daylight, in a succession of waves, against hidden machine-guns, so that the enemy's fire was concentrated on each section in turn. The signal was to have been six green rockets fired by the 3rd Division Staff as soon as all the troops were ready. But this was, of course, a night and not a day warning, and by a crowning stroke of misfortune many of the rockets fired in daylight were faulty, and fourteen had to be discharged before the requisite number was reached.

June 3rd, dawn.

The day dawned dull and stormy, with dashes of driving rain which drenched the troops, many of whom had been marching all night. And though the day broke, the signal to attack still tarried hour after hour. The 7th and 10th Battalions on the right had been in position since before 2 a.m., and in waiting on the others had lost the precious hours of darkness. The same fate had befallen the 49th on the left, which waited interminably for the battalions of the 9th Brigade which never came. The 49th Battalion was given permission to charge at 2 a.m., but their Commander preferred to wait for the 52nd and 60th rather than risk ruining the whole affair by an isolated effort. The 14th and 15th were ready by 4.15 a.m. As the chilled soldiers of the 7th, 14th, and 15th peered out in the full grey light they saw in front of them some hundred yards of open ground, and behind a tangled, irregular piece of woodland, sloping up to a low crest. Somewhere in this thicket lay the enemy's trenches, but the precise spot was largely a matter of guesswork, not of certainty.

The time of waiting for the charge is one of tense anxiety. As the company commanders consult their watches and note the passage of the minutes, the men string themselves up for a final effort. The next few seconds will carry them over the parapet through the shell fire and machine-gun fire into the enemy trenches if they are fortunate, but in any case to a fate which no man can predict. Here the moments of nervous strain were prolonged hour after hour until endurance must have become an agony. But the spirit of the counter-attacking battalions on the right never faltered, and when the time came at last they advanced to the assault in the face of a devastating fire with their customary resolution and gallantry.

The artillery preparation was from the first, in the opinion of competent witnesses, not adequate for the task of clearing the way for the infantry. The assault, as we know, had been ordered for 2 a.m. on June 3rd. The time had to be altered owing to the delay in the arrival of the infantry in some parts of the field. June 3rd, 7.00 A.M. The new assault was timed for 7 a.m., June 3rd, but in one case it was postponed for another hour owing to the constant breakdown of all telephone communication between the Higher Command, the Battalion Commander, and the gunners. These last had indeed a hard task in any event. The trenches in front of them had been dug by the Germans since the assault, and were neither ranged by observers nor photographed by our aircraft. The heavy rain and brooding mists had robbed the guns of the vision which is essential to accuracy. They fired blindly into the positions which the enemy might be supposed to occupy, and could not give the infantry the unfailing support which it expects and almost invariably receives.

At last it came! The green rockets were fired at 7.10 a.m. of June 3rd, and those battalions which were ready went over the parapet. Major Stewart, an officer of the Canadian Forces, formerly in the regular U.S.A. Army, was wounded in giving the 7th a lead over the parapet at 7.37 a.m., as they were clearly puzzled as to whether the signal had been given or not. His orderly stopped behind to bandage his wound, and both were killed in an instant by a shell. The 7th Battalion, closely supported by the 10th, attacked on the extreme right of the position with the view of clearing the south edge of Observatory Ridge, and so getting through to Mount Sorrel. It was impossible to go straight for the objective while the Ridge remained in German hands. The task was a very difficult one, and it is not surprising that they failed. They were exposed to an enfilade fire from the position on Hill 60 held by the enemy,[[4]] who as the 7th Battalion dashed out from the trench, could see our troops with perfect distinctness. The enemy were plentifully supplied with machine-guns, and had even wired their front in the eighteen hours in which they had enjoyed undisturbed possession. They had a particularly new strong trench just behind Armagh Wood, which held up the whole centre of the assault, for it had been in no way impaired by the artillery preparation. Lieut. Elliott and Lieut. Carstairs, each with a company of the 7th, attacked on the right, and Captain Holmes with two companies of the same Battalion and one of the 10th under Captain Fisher on the left. Captain Holmes found it impossible to get on, and finally dug himself in about forty yards in front of the enemy; Captain Fisher, pressing up to his assistance, was shot through the head and killed. Meanwhile a party on the extreme left found a hole in the enemy's line, and, turning the fatal trench, broke right through. But the Germans had reconstructed the battered Fortified Post, once held by the C.M.R.'s at this place, and manned it with machine-guns, which simply swept the bold adventurers out of existence. Few returned. On the right, Lieut. Elliott fought his way forward and turned the south end of the German position, reaching the original trench line just south of Mount Sorrel. Here, however, he was caught in the right rear by the German machine-guns on Hill 60. His party suffered heavy casualties and he was wounded. They were not able to hold their ground. Lieut. Carstairs' company fared no better. The attack on the right had broken down, and to press it was mere suicide on a large scale. There was no alternative but for the 2nd Brigade to get back and turn on the guns.

June 3rd, 8.35 A.M.

Next, to the north, came the 15th Battalion, who attacked at 8.35 a.m. They were already astride the end of the Ridge, but the ground in front of them had absolutely no cover, and after pushing to just beyond Rudkin House they were compelled to stop and dig themselves in under a withering fire.

The 14th Battalion (Royal Montreal Regiment) was to continue the attack on the north, its right connecting with the 15th Battalion on Observatory Ridge. The connection was duly made earlier in the night, and the Battalion was in position to attack at 4.15 a.m. in the morning of June 3rd. It is of the essence of an attack made on a broad frontage that it prevents the concentration of enemy fire at any one point in the line, and it is therefore essential that the various assaults should be simultaneous. This, unfortunately, was not the case with the 14th Battalion. Although the regiment had been ready for some hours and had been notified that the artillery preparation would begin at 6.15 a.m. and last till about 7 o'clock, a subsequent message was received to the effect that the bombardment would not begin until 7.45 a.m., and therefore terminate at 8.15. June 3rd, 8.17 A.M. The battalion in consequence advanced to the attack at 8.17 in broad daylight against machine-guns, an hour after the first assault had taken place. In spite of these adverse circumstances, the 14th Battalion went forward without flinching and ultimately linked itself up with the 15th at Rudkin House on the right and with Maple Copse on its left. Here the regiment dug itself in under the fire of the enemy, and so with the 15th bridged the fatal gap between Square Wood and Maple Copse. The casualties in the 14th were 387.[[5]] Two notable feats of arms were performed on both flanks of the 14th Battalion. Lieut. Beaton and his platoon pushed right up to the German lines on the right of the regiment and maintained himself there until midnight of the 3rd-4th. On the left Sergeant Topham and fourteen men broke clean through the enemy and reached a point not far from our own original front line. They were, of course, completely unsupported, and soon found themselves practically surrounded by the enemy. Of Sergeant Topham's party of fifteen, two succeeded in making a safe return.

These stories, however, of isolated bodies getting through the first German line and penetrating to our trenches reached the Higher Command and conveyed to them a totally erroneous view of the actual situation. In consequence, although the right and centre attack had stuck fast after an advance of 200 or 300 yards, the left was urged forward later in the day under the impression that the whole enemy position was being carried.[[6]]

The position on the extreme left, where the 49th and 60th[[7]] were to attack through Sanctuary Wood, was a peculiar one. The 49th Battalion was in position by 2.10 a.m., the regiment having moved steadily to its objective under heavy fire, merely panting for the fray. It had not yet been engaged in any great general action, and was anxious to give its proofs—which, indeed, it did most nobly. Unfortunately, the 52nd and 60th Battalions failed to arrive in time for the assault, which took place at 7 a.m. on June 3rd. June 3rd, 7.00 A.M. They were caught in heavy barrages in the only communication trench which led them to their points of assembly, and all the senior officers who understood the plan were either killed or wounded. The two regiments became mixed up in the mile-long trench. The 60th, however, eventually reached the position originally allotted to them as supporting battalion in the support trenches, and these lines they maintained all day of the 3rd under heavy fire, relieving the P.P.C.L.I. that night. Colonel Griesbach, who was in charge of the whole assault, and had therefore handed over the command of his regiment to Major Weaver (Major Weaver was hit in the barrage and handed over his command to Major Hobbins), twice walked back across the open through a sleet of steel to consult by telephone with his Brigadier and to try to find someone in command of the 52nd or 60th. In the latter effort he failed, and these regiments took no part in the assault. Colonel Griesbach succeeded, however, in getting on the telephone with General Macdonell, to whom he explained the situation. The General speaks very highly of the clear grasp of affairs which Colonel Griesbach displayed.

By now, however, the morning had come, and there were no assembly trenches to shelter large bodies of men for the assault through Sanctuary Wood. The 49th were sheltering in what cover they could find in the Apex, and the support line in Sanctuary Wood. The 52nd and 60th were far behind, and it became a question whether to assault with the 49th alone or to abandon the attack altogether. Colonel Griesbach decided that it would be dangerous to let down the battalions on his right, even though the main plan on the left had gone awry, and at 7 o'clock the 49th climbed the parapet and attacked across the open. June 3rd, 7 A.M. As they passed through and to the right of the Princess Patricia's attenuated companies, these stood up and cheered a new battalion going out to win its battle honours. The Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry, in fact, seem to have contemplated the action which ensued over ground on which they had just fought in the spirit of an elder brother watching a younger one snowing his mettle.

The attack of the 49th was well planned and carried out in a very gallant manner, the officers leading their men, revolver in hand, to within point-blank range of the enemy. In this manner Captain McNaughton and Lieut. F. W. Scott fell at the high tide of the assault. Five officers were killed and eight wounded. But the effort was an isolated one, and was persisted in far too long under the erroneous impression that the 2nd and 3rd Brigades had recaptured the old front line and were urgently in need of support on their left to make the whole position good.

June 3rd, afternoon

The 49th, at any rate, succeeded in making a very considerable advance and in establishing blocks in Sanctuary Wood and in rendering the apex of the new front line comparatively safe from assault. Finally, on advice from the officers of the Princess Patricia's they desisted from any further attempt to advance to the old front line, and rested content with the security of the new line which their own gallantry and persistence had achieved.

June 3rd, 6 P.M.

By 6 p.m. of the evening of June 3rd it was known that the counter-attack had failed in its main object. The strange stories about capturing the original trenches had withered away, by their lack of proof and by their intrinsic absurdity. The enemy neither fainted nor failed, but remained roughly where he stood at the beginning of the day, though he had been thrust back here and there. None the less, the failure had achieved certain important objects. It had made good the line which now ran continuously from the Menin Road to Hill 60 in a shape which, though irregular, was firm. The deadly danger of the afternoon of June 2nd no longer existed. The fatal gap had been closed. The spirit of the Canadians had risen in the face of adversity and proved to the Württembergers that as long as the Corps stood in the entrance there was no easy road to what remained of the famous city of Ypres. The 1st Division had saved the town from entrance by the north a year before; the Corps had protected it from the tramp of German infantry advancing from the south. That heap of stone and rubble, with its one projecting pinnacle, still remained inviolate and inviolable. The line was not a good one, but it was a line still.

Finally, the regiments of the 3rd Division had proved themselves in action on the big scale, and so had entered into the fellowship of arms of the Canadian Corps. It has not been necessary to dwell at any length on the 1st Division, which, from brigadiers down to privates, behaved with the skill and courage of experienced veterans.

But if this chapter is one of failure it is not devoid of consolation. The 3rd Division in its first great fight had won its battle honours. Deprived at the very outset of the encounter of the services of its General and one of his brigadiers, assailed by the fiercest bombardment British troops had yet encountered, with a first line swept out of existence and a second line full of rending gaps, it yet held on and changed the fortunes of the third battle of Ypres until the prospect of an overwhelming defeat was turned into the achievement of a final victory.

[[1]] It is impossible to pass over the check thus experienced by the 3rd Brigade without commenting on the reason for much misfortune to the British Armies during the two years of war on the Western front—the inadequate system of light railways. I have witnessed on many occasions blocks on the roads in Flanders caused by ambulance and transport wagons going down and infantry and ammunition wagons coming up, whereby hours were lost, very often at critical moments. Many of these checks might have been avoided altogether if a system of light railways had been constructed behind the trenches as soon as it became apparent that trench warfare had rendered the contending armies immobile for a long period of time. Since Sir Douglas Haig took command there has been a great improvement in this direction, but it is difficult to make up for lost time. I could not help thinking of the contrast between this delay and the rapidity and skill with which Sir William Mackenzie drove his railway across the Canadian prairies, not unlike the plains and plateaus of Flanders. The military leaders, indeed, with their technical staff training, lagged far behind in a task which would have been accomplished rapidly by experts like Sir Herbert Holt. Possibly, however, they had not the requisite authority from the Government to employ civilians in engineering tasks and in transportation problems. It must be added, however, that there were two principal difficulties which it took time to overcome: the shortage of shipping to carry over the material, and the dual, and sometimes triple, control of the railways by the British, French, and Belgian authorities.

[[2]] Among them Private H. Johnston, of the 2nd Battalion, is entitled to special mention for his absolute indifference to danger when carrying important despatches.

[[3]] The armoured cable is an underground telephone system, protected by armour from damage and destruction by shell fire. It is recorded in the diaries of the Canadian Divisions that the system of steel cables on this front was hit by shells fifty-seven times during the fighting in June without communication being broken.

[[4]] Positions on Hill 60 were held by the enemy and ourselves.

[[5]] The 14th was commanded by Major McCombe (formerly Captain in the 3rd Victoria Rifles, Montreal) during the temporary absence of Lieut.-Colonel Clarke. Major McCombe, who had already been once wounded in action, showed great gallantry and ability in the attack.

[[6]] During the fighting of this and the following night Sergeant Brayton, of the 14th, exhibited conspicuous courage in the work of carrying the wounded lying in the open.

[[7]] The 52nd Battalion had been detailed for attack with the 49th Battalion, but in the night march was overtaken by the 60th. In consequence, their rôles were reversed.