FOOTNOTES:
[20] For a brilliant appreciation of the Somme Battle and its lessons, General Mangin's book, Comment finit la Guerre, should be read.
[21] The boundaries of the 36th Division, with all names that occur in the description of the battle, will be found in [Map I].
[22] The "A" line consisted of a double line of trenches, a front line, and immediate support. The second was alluded to as the "A.I." line.
[23] Z/49 Trench Mortar Battery was attached to the 36th Division for this operation.
[24] It was not held for long, nor was the Schwaben Redoubt to come again into British hands for several months.
[CHAPTER IV]
From the Somme to Messines: July 1916 to June 1917
On July the 13th the Division moved into the well-known training area west of St. Omer, with headquarters at Tilques. Those of the 107th Brigade were at Bayenghem, of the 108th at Eperlecques, and of the 109th at Boisdinghem. Here training and reorganization began, and here reinforcements arrived in considerable numbers.[25] Five days later the Artillery, which had remained in line covering the 49th Division, rejoined, having moved north by march route. R.A. Headquarters were established at the château at Recques. The troops were much refreshed by this return to civilization, and units had leisure to absorb their drafts. Unfortunately it did not last very long. On July the 20th Headquarters moved to Esquelbecq, to a famous and beautiful moated château, that bore at the door rings to which Marlborough's troopers had tied their reins, and had been occupied by General Grant after Waterloo. Meanwhile the 108th Brigade moved forward, by 'bus and lorry, to Kortepyp Camp, south of the village of Neuve Eglise, and Red Lodge, on the southern slopes of Hill 63, and west of the famous Bois de Ploegsteert, that will go down to Britons for all time as "Plug Street Wood." On the 23rd Headquarters moved to the château on Mont Noir, a couple of miles north of Bailleul, and that night the 108th Brigade re-entered the line in relief of two battalions of the 20th Division. By the end of July the 109th Brigade had come in on the right, in relief of troops of the 41st Division, and the 107th had relieved the 108th Brigade. The front line now held ran from a ruin on the Neuve Eglise-Warneton Road, known as Anton's Farm, on the right, to another known as Boyle's Farm on the Wulverghem-Messines Road, on the left. The frontage was some three thousand yards in a straight line, but there were over two and a half miles of front-line trench. On September the 1st the headquarters of the Division moved from Mont Noir to the village of St. Jans Cappel, near Bailleul.
The Division was to remain for upwards of a year in this part of the line, but it seldom held precisely the same section of front for more than a few weeks at a time. The various moves cannot be treated in detail. There were changes in August, all three Brigades entering the line, and early in September a "side-step" to the north, the right boundary now being the River Douve, and the left "Piccadilly Trench," south of the Kemmel-Wytschaete Road. The 108th Brigade was now on the right, the 107th in the centre, and the 109th on the left. The characteristics of the various parts of all this front were similar, the conditions of the soil the same throughout, so that a general description will hold good for all the period passed by the Division in the neighbourhood.
The trenches and dug-outs, to begin with, were not such at all in the sense in which the troops had been wont to use the names on the Ancre. The fighting trenches consisted, everywhere save on the highest ground, of parapets built of sandbags filled with clay. In places there was a parados similarly constructed, but over long stretches the men in the front line simply stood behind the wall, with no protection against the back-burst of shells. Water in this country appeared everywhere just below the surface, and it was useless to dig trenches in the real sense for any purpose other than drainage. Even the communication trenches were sunk not deeper than a foot, and piled high on either side with earth, which made them satisfactory enough as cover from view, but very vulnerable to shell-fire. These communication trenches were longer than those to which the troops had been accustomed, the approaches to the front line being much more exposed than among the folds of the Somme country. As for dug-outs, there were none. Little wooden-framed shelves in the parapet, a few "baby elephants"—arched steel shelters, which, if covered thickly enough with sandbags, afforded protection against the shells of field guns—served for the troops in line, while further back, for battalion headquarters and forts, there were ruined farms, which often had good cellars, and in the frame-work of which concrete structures could be hidden. It was hard for troops used to the Somme chalk to accustom their minds to the spongy nature of this soil. In the dry weeks of August, for example, the R.E. built one very fine dug-out, twenty feet deep, and were proud of their handiwork. In September there was in it a foot of water, in October two; November found the water level with the top of the stairs, and a sarcastic notice, "The R.E. Swimming Bath," at the entrance.
When it rained, which was not seldom, all the low-lying ground flooded. The valley of the Douve, above all, from Wulverghem to the front line, became a muddy swamp, in which the water lay in sheets. At such times, and indeed during a great part of the winter, many trenches simply could not be occupied. No adequate idea of the impression conveyed upon the mind of a man coming up north from the clean, white trenches of the Somme can be obtained of all this area unless it is conceived as dirty, mournful, and disconsolate; haunted by the evil stench of blue clay, and brooded over by an atmosphere of decay.
Since the days of the first Battle of Ypres and of the rival turning movements which had ended in the present deadlock, the Germans had had the best of the ground in the Messines sector. Behind the salient of their front trenches it rose sharply, with a dip half-way up, formed by the shallow valley of the Steenebeek, to a dominating ridge, crowned south and north by the fortress-villages of Messines and Wytschaete. The road joining these was the limit of our observation, except for telescopes on Kemmel Hill. To the south we had a fair observation point in Hill 63, but the one great boon granted to us was Kemmel. Had it been a thousand yards nearer the front line, it would have done much to counteract the advantage of the Messines-Wytschaete Ridge. It is scarcely necessary to add that the enemy had, in his long possession of the ridge, fortified it with all his wonted industry and art. It was protected by four general lines of well wired trenches west of the road, and peppered over with little forts, wired all round, the garrisons of which were provided with concrete structures, miniature houses rather than dug-outs, proof against anything up to an eight-inch shell.
General Plumer's Second Army was at this time playing the rôle of Cinderella among the British forces. Its front was lightly held, even at Ypres, which had grown strangely quiet of late. Certain preparations had been made for an offensive in the summer, but had been largely abandoned for lack of labour. The Army Commander, however, insisted on pushing on his mining, in which he had great faith, a faith amply to be justified the following year. Throughout the winter and spring the Division furnished large parties for work under the various Tunnelling Companies in the shafts that were being driven under "No Man's Land," and beneath the strongest portions of the enemy's front line. The German miners were skilful enough, and on other parts of the front often gave rather more than they got, but here, from first to last, they were out-manœuvred and out-fought in an underground war. A striking instance of this was at La Petite Douve Farm, on the Ploegsteert-Messines Road, where the British tunnellers succeeded in pumping a fair proportion of the muddy Douve into the Germans' shaft, whence they could be heard, night after night, frantically ejecting it with a motor-pump. One "camouflet," as a defensive explosion was called, did indeed blow in our gallery here and undo months of work, but the enemy probably did not know what he had achieved, and the temporary check availed him nothing in the end. No Ulsterman who served in Flanders in that winter and the following spring will forget the skill, patience, and absolute contempt for danger displayed by those tunnellers. The 171st Tunnelling Company, with which the Division was most closely associated, will be remembered with particular affection and admiration.
The Second Army has been called the Cinderella of our forces. Not only was it holding a long line lightly, and with few reserves, but the main flow of ammunition and material passed it by and went down to the Somme, where the British were creeping forward in desperate fighting to Bapaume. There were weeks in August and September when the allowance of shells dropped to two and even one round per 18-pounder a day, with heavier calibres proportionately rationed.[26] The Germans were in this respect similarly situated. Their ammunition also was wanted on the Somme to put down those eternal barrages with which they opposed our assaults. When the Division first arrived in Flanders the artillery shell-fire was very light indeed. That of the trench mortars did a good deal to replace it. The Germans had concentrated on these weapons as their chief means of offence, and, possessing the advantage of the ground, they used them cleverly and with great effect. With that curious regularity that appeared to form part of the German mentality their bombardments generally took place almost precisely at 3-30 p.m. They were particularly severe in the neighbourhood of the Spanbroek salient.[27] "In this sector," writes a machine-gun officer, "I have seen five or six large 'minnies' in the air at one time—really fearsome things. You could see the fuses of the bombs alight in the air and follow their flight most of the way, only to lose it when straight overhead; and then there was nothing to do but wonder where it would fall!" These long aerial torpedoes exploded with shattering effect and made huge craters. It is useless to disguise the fact that, during the first few weeks of the Division's acquaintance with these trenches, the enemy had an ascendancy in trench-mortar warfare. That ascendancy had to be fought down. In the first place the German mortars, or rather their emplacements, were carefully marked down from observations taken in the line, and by the study of aeroplane photographs. Maps were then issued by the staff, upon which each active emplacement was shown by name. The names began with the letter of the map square; all in the "S" squares with S, and in the "U" squares with U. The names chosen were generally feminine—doubtless without ironic intention. A certain number of the emplacements were allotted to each howitzer battery of the Divisional Artillery, and also to such 6-inch howitzer batteries of the Corps Heavy Artillery as were available. When the mortar opened fire, all that was necessary was for the words "Susie active," or "Ursula active," to be wired back to the batteries. Susie, or Ursula, as the case might be, was instantly engaged, while any machine-guns that could be brought to bear upon her neighbourhood also took a hand in the game. By this means it was generally found possible to silence any individual mortar in about a quarter of an hour at most, and to prevent it from getting the exact range, and then knocking in a whole section of trench at leisure.
On the British side, also, big trench-mortar bombardments, aided by the Divisional Artillery, were periodically arranged. In these affairs the leading rôle was played by that terrific weapon, the heavy trench mortar, firing a projectile of 180 lbs., and highly dramatic it not infrequently was. One of these monsters dwelt at R.E. Farm, on the Wulverghem-Wytschaete Road, and it was from this locality that the principal "hates" were discharged. For perhaps ten minutes the fire would continue, the "flying pig," as it was called, sending over its giant shells, the medium mortars firing their 60-lb. "plum puddings," and perhaps two batteries of light Stokes mortars discharging twenty or twenty-five rounds a minute from every gun. Meanwhile the 18-pounders and howitzers behind joined in, while machine-guns fired upon communication trenches. The German retaliation was frequently heavy, and the teams of the mortars, heavy, medium, and light, showed grim determination in carrying out their tasks under punishment. General Brock, the C.R.A., did not believe in sending to the mortar batteries weaklings who were not wanted with the guns, and these trench mortars acquired a peculiar type of artillery officer,[28] resolute, hard-bitten, perhaps often careless and unconventional, but capable in great moments of the most splendid courage, lightly worn and taken for granted between comrade and comrade.
Few who have known anything of it can recall the "flying pig" without a smile. There was a pleasing uncertainty about this weapon. When the first round was fired from R.E. Farm, the charge did not ignite properly, and the big shell went forth, flaming gun-cotton marking its path, to land three hundred yards away just behind the British front line, making a huge crater and demolishing the local company headquarters! Thereafter the propellent was improved, but it was thought wiser temporarily to evacuate the front line over which the mortar was firing. It was typical of the infantryman's good humour that the incident was greeted everywhere with laughter and treasured as an excellent jest. War, indeed, has a curious effect upon the sense of humour, and far grimmer pleasantries than this were the subjects of mirth. When a IX. Corps intelligence summary remarked that a German cemetery behind the ridge "appeared to be filling nicely," it was hailed as the joke of the season.
It was the aim of the Army Commander to harass by all means in his power the troops that faced him, to prevent divisions that were sent down to the Somme from going as fresh troops, and to prevent those others that had been withdrawn from the hell-broth from recovering too quickly and easily from its effects. The intense bombardments with trench artillery were but one weapon in this campaign. Another, as autumn drew on and supplies of ammunition came more freely to hand, was the shelling of approaches and, above all, the railway terminus in Messines, by night. But the principal weapon in this minor offensive was the raiding party. So long as men who took part in the war are alive, the subject of raids is like to crop up whenever two or three are met together. But the conclusion of such discussions is invariably the same. Raids were frequently useful, and sometimes imperatively necessary; but the British raided too often. Raids to obtain identification of troops opposite, and even to keep the enemy "on the stretch," were justifiable; those with the object of raising the moral of our troops were not, because they did not succeed in their object. "No doubt," writes one of the Brigadiers of the 36th Division who was responsible for many raids, "no doubt a successful raid had a good effect in a unit, but not always among the raiding party. The meticulous preparation made the 'waiting-for-the-dentist' period hard and trying. And the raiders were always picked men, who in a battle were of inestimable value. Many units had to deplore the loss of the very cream of their officers, N.C.O.'s, and men in raids. And the cold-blooded courage demanded of all concerned took heavy toll of the nervous energy of even the biggest thruster." The Higher Command, also, often called for raids immediately troops had taken over a line, before they had learnt their way about in "No Man's Land" by dint of patrolling, and before they had recovered from the effects of an attack delivered on some other part of the front.
The record of the 36th Division with regard to raids was from first to last a very high one. The failures were few in comparison with the successes. It was also the case that, while the troops of the Division carried out a great number of successful raids, the number of occasions on which they themselves failed to repulse German raids or lost prisoners to the raiders can be numbered on the fingers of both hands. In the eleven months between the opening of the Somme Offensive and the Battle of Messines, the Division carried out over a dozen raids; but the first hand-to-hand encounter with the enemy took place, not in his trenches, but in "No Man's Land." It is a curious little episode, and deserves to be treated at some length.
It may be mentioned that only a short time before the Somme Battle was the efficacy of the German apparatus for overhearing telephone conversation realized by the British. Till then it had been our easy custom to talk of such important matters as reliefs over the telephone from the front line. It was established that these casual conversations could be picked up by the enemy's instruments, especially in chalky ground. They were accordingly banned, and, after the British manner, from the extreme of imprudence we rushed to a comical extreme of caution. It was currently believed that all conversations within three miles of the line could be heard by the Germans, and brigadiers sometimes found themselves precluded from using the telephone. It was still possible to send telegraphic messages, using the "fullerphone," an invention which greatly diminished the risk of tapping. And an instrument of torture, known as the "B.A.B. Code Book," became part of the equipment of every officer. How many company commanders have sat in their dug-outs translating a series of numerals into amazing gibberish, to discover that they had wasted half an hour by using last month's correction!
On the occasion in question, an officer of the 9th Irish Fusiliers, Lieutenant Godson, conceived the idea of using the listening set of the enemy as a bait to take some of his men. On the afternoon of the 14th of August, he announced in the clearest possible tones, on a telephone at company headquarters in the front line, that an officer and three men would leave the trench at midnight, and move out on the right of the Le Rossignol-Messines Road to reconnoitre the clump of willows in "No Man's Land." At 9-30 p.m. he moved out to this spot with a party of two officers and sixteen other ranks. By 10 he had his force in prearranged formation near the willows, and waited for what might happen. But he must be allowed to tell in his own words, as they were written next morning, the story of his sensations and of his achievement.
"At 11 p.m. I see, I see—what do I see? A little black mark in the grass forty yards in front that was not there when I looked before. O yes, it was. I look about. The moon is very full out now on our right front. What a nice night, and so quiet! Not a sound from the German lines. I look to the front again. I am getting fed with this. I am wet from head to foot crawling through the wet grass.... This is not a job for one man to be at day after day. Everyone ought to take his turn at this. The discomfort is beastly. It is all right till I move, then I have to warm a new place on the dank grass. Hullo! by Jove, I've forgotten that black spot, the only thing in sight I had made a mental note to look at again.... It's growing bigger. What the devil is it? There's another behind, and another. They're coming! I have heard of hearts leaping into the mouth. It meant nothing to me, but by Jove that's what mine did. It nearly made me dizzy just for two seconds. I collect myself. Twenty-five yards off and coming, oh, so slowly and cautiously, moving down a little ditch in the open that I had not noticed.... I sign to the sick scout to stop his noise and lie close to the ground. I level my revolver. They're coming. And one of the other men is sure to make a noise or cough.... I see the first distinctly now, ten yards off,—nine, eight, seven, six, five. He sees something, he whips round, all turn behind him; as far as I can see, three, four, five, six, seven—how many? Bang, bang, bang, ring out the rifles! I let off five with my revolver, and they have disappeared as if by magic. 'Come on, boys!' I'm up and out. I see a figure on his back. I leap at his throat. 'Kamerad, Kamerad!' he shouts, and waves his hands. Clements whips by me and Ervin and Breen."
The net result of the ambuscade was two Germans killed and four prisoners. That the false message had been overheard could never be exactly proved, but the probabilities seemed to be in that direction.
To summarize the raids carried out or attempted during autumn and winter, there were two on the night of September the 15th, two on September the 30th, three on October the 12th, two on the 31st, and one, the most important, on November the 16th. Of these ten, six were successful in varying degree. The two first were carried out by the 9th Rifles, just east of the Wulverghem-Wytschaete Road, and by the 11th Inniskillings some five hundred yards north of it. The former, by reason of its neatness and the fact that the raiders suffered no loss, must be accounted the best of the series. It was sent to obtain an identification, and it obtained one, a single prisoner. In addition, the officer who led it shot two Germans as he entered the trench, and a third was shot by the flank guard on the left. But the great achievement of the raid was the work of Rifleman Kidd, the champion long-distance bomber of the battalion, a man worth a platoon in such an affair. By his long-range bombing he kept off, single-handed, the German bombers moving up to the rescue, killing three. The British casualties were three men so lightly wounded that they remained at duty. The other raid was notable for very pretty work by the Artillery. At this point, opposite Kruisstraat Cabaret, the British lines jutted out into a work known as the "Bull Ring," which commanded some relatively high ground, about seventy yards from the enemy's trench. The raid was just north of this work, on an enemy trench almost on the same longitudinal line, yet a machine-gun was able to fire from the "Bull Ring" two thousand rounds on the enemy's trenches, while the "box" barrage of the Artillery was put round the raiding party, and no shell came near it. Over thirty Germans were estimated to have been killed, but, unfortunately, the Inniskillings, besides ten wounded, had three wounded and missing. One prisoner was taken as an identification.
The raids on the 30th were part of a series on the whole IX. Corps front. On the right the 11th Rifles did not start, owing to an accidental bomb explosion; in the centre the 10th Rifles were held up by the depth of the wire; on the left the 10th Inniskillings entered the enemy's trenches—after the fuse of their ammonal torpedo had failed to ignite, and the sapper in charge had affixed and lit a new one under the very noses of the German sentries—killed a number of the enemy, blew up dug-outs, took a machine-gun, rifles, and equipment. In the raids of the 12th of October the 108th Brigade had again no fortune at the strongly wired Petite Douve Farm, but the 107th and 109th Brigades each took prisoners. Of the latter raid, carried out by the 9th Inniskillings, it is related that, just before it took place, the two officers who planned it were out in "No Man's Land" having a look round, and lost their way, the trenches being here only fifty yards apart. Having seen some wire they could not agree whether it was "ours or theirs," and tossed a coin in a shell-hole to decide which view should prevail. The winner approached the wire, put up his head, and was fired at at four yards' range—and missed! He bobbed down. Again he took a look, and again there was a miss by the sentry. Finally he heard footsteps approach on the trench-boards, and a voice demand: "Jasus, what are ye shootin' at?" That was a welcome and homely sound. Sotto voce explanations followed, and he and his companion came in. The raids of October the 31st were held up by showers of bombs from the stout-hearted Swabian peasants of the 26th (Wuertemberg) Division. But the Wuertembergers were wanted on the Somme. On November the 16th the 11th Inniskillings, raiding the Spanbroek salient on a front of two hundred yards, came upon their less formidable successors, a Saxon Division, before they were accustomed to the new trenches, and dealt with them in terrible fashion. Twenty-three dead were counted in the trenches, and more than twice as many must have fallen. The terror-stricken Saxons deserted their front line on a wide front, and the Inniskillings had their pleasure with it for half an hour, looting everything which they could carry over, blowing up all the dug-outs, to the accompaniment of tunes played in "No Man's Land" on mouth organs. Three prisoners were taken. Our losses were slight. One of the few successful raids carried out against the Division in all its career took place on February the 14th, when the enemy obliterated the trenches on the Wulverghem-Messines Road and apparently captured two prisoners.
It will be remembered that the Divisional Artillery, which had come to France consisting of three 18-pounder and one 4.5 howitzer Brigades, had been reorganized in May, the howitzer batteries being divided among the other three Brigades. A second reorganization took place in September, to a basis of six-gun instead of four-gun batteries, though the howitzer batteries did not receive their extra section of two guns till the New Year. The 154th Brigade was broken up, and in February 1917 the 172nd Brigade became the 113th Army Brigade, and left the Division. The details can best be shown by a tabular statement which appears in the "Order of Battle." Henceforth the Artillery consisted of two Brigades only, the 153rd and the 173rd. A large number of Army Brigades were created by the reorganization, and were used to increase the artillery at the disposal of divisions for offensives or in dangerous sectors. The change had some tactical advantages, but the lot of the new Army Brigades, "nobody's children" as it were, and constantly moved from one lively front to another, could not be described as happy.
The late Lt. G. St. G. S. CATHER, 9th Royal Irish Fusiliers.
The late Pte. W. F. McFADZEAN, 14th Royal Irish Rifles.
The late Capt. E. N. F. BELL, 9th Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers.
Pte. R. QUIGG, 12th Royal Irish Rifles.
The Late 2/Lt. J. S. EMERSON, 9th Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers.
The Division always worked hard, but there was probably no part of the front in which it attempted and accomplished so much as here. Just at first there was shortage of material, as there was of ammunition, but the situation soon improved. By the labours of the Pioneers and Infantry, working under the supervision of the three Field Companies, the whole trench system was transformed. Parapets were built stout and strong; parados, where none had been before, appeared to match them. The communication trenches were strengthened and improved by the famous "A" frame, the greatest single blessing that authority provided for troops in Flanders. The deepening of the bed of the Douve, and the removal of obstructions by the Engineers, did much to lessen the winter floods. Trench tramways were laid, good shelters constructed, reinforced concrete being largely employed. Of these the most interesting was the battalion headquarters at La Plus Douve Farm.[29] As one approached the place, one saw no sign of human occupation, nor of its possibility. There was nothing but a huge roofless farm, built round three sides of a square, as is common in Flanders. But inside one of the wings was an unobtrusive concrete structure thirty feet long, wherein the commanding officer and his staff dwelt in great comfort, above ground, with ample head-room, real windows, and protection from "five-nines." The courtyard remained as it had been when the farm was finally destroyed by bombardment eighteen months before, and its smashed reaping-machine, half a bicycle, and old umbrella, seemed to have grouped themselves after a Bairnsfather drawing.
Mention must here be made of the remarkable underground barracks, made on the southern slopes of Hill 63 by the Australian Tunnelling Company, to which the troops of the Division acted as carriers. Driven into the steep flank of the hill, it was proof against any artillery, lit all through by electric light, and capable of holding two battalions at a pinch. There its charm ended, for it must be confessed that it was damp, close, and malodorous, and that it was impossible to leave a battalion long in it without ill effects upon its health.
For the first three months of 1917 the Division was without its Pioneers, filched by the new "railway king," Sir Eric Geddes. The Pioneers worked with their wonted vigour on 60 c.m. light railways between Ouderdom, south of the Salient, and Kemmel, and between Busseboom and Dickebusch, and also on broad-gauge work. In their absence it was very difficult to continue the elaborate programmes of construction. A temporary "Works Battalion," one company from each Brigade, with a nucleus of one hundred trained Pioneers, who had been retained, was formed to replace them. It was intensely unpopular with the men, and cannot be said to have been a success. In February practically all work of other natures ceased, so that men might be put to that of wiring. The intense frost had converted the Belgian inundations into solid ice! They were no obstacle to the enemy, who for some weeks was suspected of the preparation of an offensive. Certainly his artillery had become very aggressive, carrying out heavy bombardments of our trenches and batteries, and shelling camps in rear. The country was literally sown with wire, "Plug Street Wood" being such a tangle that it has always been a mystery to those who saw it how the Germans passed through it in 1918. The alarm died down presently. It had never very serious foundation, but the frost in the ground constituted a risk.
There was one advantage in holding the line in the same area for a long period. It was possible to provide some comfort and recreation for the troops. There were a football competition, boxing competitions, a horse-show, many sports meetings. A large hut was put up at Dranoutre for concerts and other entertainments. Over a long period a 'bus ran daily from "Hyde Park Corner," just outside Ploegsteert village, to Bailleul, which represented with its shops and eating-houses comparative civilization. Many will recall with regret its fine square and beautiful Hôtel de Ville, all smashed to powder in 1918. Probably the worst hardships of the troops were due to the intense cold of that winter. Life in the trenches was bad enough, but there were many men who found it easier to sleep there than in their rest camps. A bare, draughty wooden hut, a temperature of fifteen degrees below zero, insufficient fuel; it does not require much imagination to conjure up the misery implied by such conditions.
With early spring came a great burst of activity. In the last days of the old year the Division had been reorganized on a two-brigade frontage, so that the troops of one Brigade might obtain some rest and training. Now, in mid-March, it closed down to a small front, from the Wulverghem-Wytschaete Road on the right, to a point opposite Maedelstede Farm[30] on the left. This was held by one Brigade, the second being well back about Flêtre, while the third trained in the pleasant neighbourhood of Lumbres, west of St. Omer. No longer was the Second Army Cinderella. Its area was packed with troops. Even the private soldier, who saw the opening of the splendid new railhead at Haagedoorne, outside Bailleul, with its maze of sidings, saw the country covered with transport lines, saw the dumps grow full, saw the digging of new communication trenches and the laying of light railways, must have realized that something was toward. It is certain at least that the enemy did. On the morning of March the 24th he bombarded the lines of the 107th Brigade on the right flank and those of the New Zealanders, its neighbours, for an hour and a half. Just before dawn his men were seen to issue from their trenches. Caught by our artillery barrage and the fire of machine and Lewis guns, the party was swept away like chaff. He made other unsuccessful attempts to raid the Division. That, however, represented but one aspect of his alertness. The more serious was his persistent shelling of billets and horse-lines, and his bombing of Bailleul. It was also observed that he had large parties at work on his rear lines.
The Second Army was preparing the capture of the Messines-Wytschaete Ridge.
The raiding activity of the Division was renewed in those last weeks of preparation. On several occasions men slipped across in broad daylight to the nose of the Spanbroek salient and threw bombs into the German trenches. On May the 19th a raid was attempted from the "Bull Ring," but beaten off by the enemy, who in turn sent over parties in the early hours of the morning, which were beaten off with loss. On May the 23rd the 14th Rifles raided the trenches on the Kemmel-Wytschaete Road, taking a prisoner and confirming the suspicion that the Germans had reinforced their line. On the 29th a very big party of Germans, estimated at a hundred strong, made three attempts to enter the "Bull Ring," but was kept out by the barrage and the fire of the Lewis guns. These raids were without doubt attempts to reach and destroy the mine-shafts in our front line.
Meanwhile there had come into the divisional area, and moved quietly, battery by battery, into the positions already prepared, the Divisional Artillery of the 32nd Division, with four Army Artillery Brigades, making a total of 192 field guns and howitzers on the front. All the positions for the incoming batteries had been constructed by the 36th Divisional Artillery, and much of their ammunition stacked in them ready for their use. Upon this General Brock was most insistent. To him and to the hard work of his subordinates the newcomers owed provision such as incoming batteries all too rarely met with. A great mass of heavy artillery under the orders of the IX. Corps had arrived also, and was bombarding the slope of the Messines Ridge, doing great execution upon the concrete shelters with which it was studded. The Germans could play at this game also, and they had some tempting targets. All over the back areas were horses piqueted in the open, troops in tents. Against these the Germans did much damage with a railway gun, which, as it could easily be moved, was safe from our fire. On the night of May the 27th Divisional Headquarters, which had moved up to their new Ulster Camp, west of Dranoutre, were bombarded by a 10 c.m. gun. A direct hit was obtained on one of the huts, and several clerks were wounded. The shelling continued for two hours, during which the staff and personnel of the headquarters had to take to the fields. That which would have been pure comedy—for such the spectacle of a whole divisional headquarters running about in the dark must undoubtedly appear to the troops—was turned to tragedy by the death of Lieut.-Colonel W. A. de C. King, the C.R.E., who was killed on the spot by one shell. On the following morning General Nugent moved, with his advanced Headquarters Staff, to the command post that had been prepared on the western slope of Kemmel Hill.
On the 31st of May the preliminary bombardment opened.