Hill 60.
(From a sketch made just before its capture by the British. By permission of The Illustrated London News.)
Early next morning (Sunday, 18th April) the Germans in mass formation made two attacks on the hill, but they were mown down by machine guns and shrapnel. Nevertheless they kept up their assaults all day, and by 6 p.m. had won back part of the southern edge. The 2nd West Riding and 2nd Yorkshire Light Infantry were now sent up to relieve the West Kents and Scottish Borderers. Supported by heavy artillery fire, they dashed forward and drove out the enemy at the point of the bayonet. While doing so they captured fifty-three prisoners, including four officers. During this advance we lost heavily, but the Germans lost more, and the slopes were littered with the bodies of friend and foe.
For three days the struggle continued, almost without pause. The Germans fiercely shelled the hill, and hurled upon it a constant shower of bombs. Our men were exposed to fire from three sides, but they held on like limpets to a rock. On the evening of the 20th the Germans made another infantry attack, which lasted for an hour and a half, but once more they were repulsed by the stubborn British. It was during this period of fighting that Lieutenant George Roupell and Second Lieutenant Geoffrey Woolley won the Victoria Cross, as you will read on a later page.
At dawn the next morning we discovered that the Germans had dug themselves in on the north-east edge of the hill. In the afternoon they were driven off, and then their artillery literally plastered the hill with shells of all kinds, some of them containing gases which blinded and choked our men. Against a tiny table top of 250 yards long by 200 yards deep tons of metal and high explosives were flung from howitzers and field guns at close range. It seemed to observers that nothing could live in that zone of fire; nevertheless the defenders hung on for four and a half terrible days. The hill was still ours on Thursday, the 22nd. Then came a lull: the storm of battle had begun to rage over a far wider field.
The struggle for the hill did not cease with the opening of this new battle. Before every big attack which the Germans made elsewhere they delivered a furious assault on the hill. At length, on 6th May, after a series of gas attacks, they won it back, and also some trenches to the north of it. By this time, however, it had been so blown away by mine explosions and artillery fire as to be of little value. A friend of mine, who visited it a week later, "could barely detect the gentle swell among the flat meadows."
Before I pass on to describe the Second Battle of Ypres, let me relate some soldiers' stories of the fierce fighting on Hill 60. A correspondent tells us that the Scottish Borderers never lost heart during the awful bombardment to which they were subjected. "These astounding men," he says, "holding hastily-dug trenches by the side of a yawning crater full of dead and wounded, with high-explosive shells bursting all around them and often falling amongst them, actually sang as they fired over the parapets or lobbed their bombs over the barriers across the old communication trenches of the Germans. Amid the flares that lit up the hilltop as clear as day, and the shells that burst with clouds of whitish yellow smoke, they shouted in chorus, 'Here we are! Here we are! Here we are again!' Thus a company of the West Kents, sent up in support, found them at daybreak. The Borderers had been obliged to fall back from the trench on the outer lip of the crater to a trench on its near side, so that the chasm lay between them and the Germans. Their captain lay stark and stiff in the crater, which was so full of dead and wounded that, in the words of a West Kents' officer, 'hardly a portion of the ground could be seen.'" "It's dogged as does it," according to the old saying, and never were men more dogged than the King's Own Scottish Borderers during that fearful ordeal.
The same correspondent gives us some details of the splendid advance made by the Duke of Wellington's Own (2nd West Riding) and the 2nd Yorkshire Light Infantry, when they drove the Germans off the southern edge. "At six o'clock the Duke's, as full of fight as ever, with bayonets fixed, were away over the parapet of their battered trench, followed by their fellow-countrymen of Yorkshire, some of the K.O.S.B.'s, and the Queen Victoria Rifles, a London Territorial battalion that did magnificent work that day. 'B' Company of the Duke's, on the right, reached the German trenches with only slight casualties. 'C' company, in the centre, had to cross open ground, and of the hundred men who charged only Captain Barton and eleven others got into the German trench, where, notwithstanding their small numbers, they killed or routed all the Germans there. 'D' Company, on the left, had likewise to traverse the open, and lost all its officers in passing through the heavily-shelled zone; but with the help of the gallant Yorkshire Light Infantry it managed to secure the trench. Some fine deeds of gallantry were performed on that sombre hillside. Privates Behan and Dryden, of the Duke's, became separated from their company, but charged a German trench single-handed, killing three Germans and capturing two others. When they were reinforced by a detachment without an officer, Behan took command, and showed great ability. Both men afterwards received the Distinguished Conduct Medal."
A "Gaspipe Officer,"[36] writing in Blackwood's Magazine, tells us that, on the evening of 17th April, a group of officers standing on a little rise watched the shrapnel bursting over Hill 60, three and a half miles away. "They were half joyful and half sick at heart. Not one of them would have confessed it, yet each had a great pride in the old division, and a great anxiety that it should do well. Had the charge been successful? Had the gains been made good? They went back into their hut, and sang . . . until it was time to go to bed.
"In the morning news came that the position had been rushed; the Germans had been filled with such panic that they had fled from the trenches on either side of the crater; they were heavily attacking; their guns and bombs were sweeping the new position; there was no wire down yet.
"About nine the same night there was much cheering in the darkness of the camp. The remains of two battalions had returned from the hill. Then first we learned the names of the fallen. Still there was no wire down. . . . It took five or six days before the wire was down and trenches properly made. During those days no battalion could remain for more than fifteen hours on the hill, and at the end of its shift it would return broken. The men could see the guns that were firing at them. . . . The hill was death. But the 5th Division never let go. They stuck to the hill while the sappers put up wire and made it defensible."
Before I close this chapter I will give you some account of the soldiers who won the Victoria Cross for deeds of outstanding gallantry during the period between the Battle of Neuve Chapelle and the beginning of the Second Battle of Ypres.
Private Robert Morrow, 1st Battalion, Princess Victoria's (Royal Irish) Fusiliers.
Near Messines, on 12th April, some of our trenches were destroyed by the enemy's shell fire, and several of our men were buried in the ruins. Without waiting for orders, and under a very heavy fire, Private Morrow dug out the men and carried them one by one to places of shelter. A score of times he hazarded his own life in rescuing his comrades, and the highest award of valour was the King's tribute to such fearless self-devotion.
Private Edward Dwyer, 1st Battalion, East Surrey Regiment.
When His Majesty the King pinned the coveted cross on the breast of Private Dwyer, he was amazed at the boyish appearance of the hero. He was but nineteen years of age when he ran through the hail of death up the slope of Hill 60; yet he was already a veteran, for he had fought from Mons to the Marne, and back to the Aisne, and had played his part in many a Flanders battle. He and his comrades of the East Surreys held a trench of Hill 60 with wonderful doggedness. Quite early in the encounter Dwyer went out from the cover of his trench and bandaged several of his badly-wounded comrades. No one would have been more surprised than Edward Dwyer if he had been told that these acts of mercy were heroic. He considered them his plain duty—that was all.
Dwyer and his comrades were assailed by German hand-grenade throwers. Their bombs came hurtling into the trench, and did awful execution. Dwyer saw that unless the Germans were beaten back with their own weapons the position would be lost. Seizing a supply of bombs, he sprang upon the parapet, and flung his missiles so rapidly and with such unerring aim that he broke up the enemy's advance. At once he became a mark for the enemy's bombers and sharpshooters. Standing high on the parapet, he was an excellent target. Grenades whizzed and cracked in the air around him, rifles were fired at him, and only by a hair's breadth did he escape time after time. At last he was wounded in the head, but even then he did not cease to fling his bombs. They fell right in the thick of the Germans, who were forced back. One man had beaten back a whole company!
Private Dwyer came down from the sand-bags sorely wounded but victorious. He was still unaware that he had done anything heroic. But you and I honour him as a supremely brave man, who added to his gallantry the charm of modesty. While he was recovering from his wounds he addressed recruiting meetings with such burning words that many a man forthwith offered his services to his King and country. Before the year was out he carried the King's commission as second lieutenant.
Lieutenant George Rowland Patrick Roupell, 1st Battalion, the East Surrey Regiment.
This young officer was in command of his company in a front trench on that terrible April day when our men were clinging on to Hill 60 by their eyebrows. Though wounded in several places, he remained at his post, and led his men when they repelled a strong German assault. During a lull in the shattering salvos of fire he had his wounds hurriedly dressed, and then insisted on returning to his trench, which was soon heavily shelled once more. Towards evening, when his company was dangerously weakened, he went back to headquarters through a whirlwind of fire, and returned, bringing with him reinforcements. With these he held the position until his battalion was relieved next morning. Lieutenant Roupell was one of the few survivors of his company. It was his splendid example of courage, devotion, and doggedness that inspired his men to hold out to the end.
Second Lieutenant Benjamin Handley Geary, 4th Battalion (attached 1st Battalion), East Surrey Regiment.
Second Lieutenant Geary held the left crater on Hill 60 with his platoon, a detachment of the Bedfordshire Regiment, and a few reinforcements sent up during the evening and night. The crater was so heavily bombarded by the enemy that the defences were broken down, and throughout the night there were repeated bomb attacks which filled the great hole with dead and wounded. Each attack, however, was splendidly repulsed, mainly owing to the personal gallantry and inspiring example of Lieutenant Geary. At one time he used a rifle with great effect, at another time he threw hand grenades and held off the enemy. Again and again he exposed himself with entire disregard of danger, in order to see by the light of flares where the attack was to be made. In the pauses between the attacks he was busy arranging for ammunition supply and for reinforcements. Lieutenant Geary displayed all the ancient virtues of his race—alertness in seizing opportunities, courage that is heedless of self, leadership that inspires confidence, and steadfastness that never knows defeat. He was severely wounded just before daylight on 21st April. A bullet passed through his head from one side to the other, completely destroying the sight of one eye, and seriously injuring that of the other. He made, however, a rapid recovery.
Lieutenant Geoffrey Harold Woolley, 9th (County of London) Battalion, the London Regiment (Queen Victoria's Rifles), Territorial Force.
At one time during the frenzied struggle which I have described in this chapter, Lieutenant Woolley was the only officer on the hill. With a handful of men he resisted all attacks on his trench, and continued throwing bombs and encouraging his comrades until he was relieved. All this time his trench was under heavy fire from the artillery, bombers, and machine gunners of the enemy. For "sticking it" so gallantly Lieutenant Woolley was rightly awarded the cross of valour. He had the honour of being the first of all Territorials to win this high distinction. Lieutenant Woolley was the son of an Essex clergyman, and was a student at Oxford, preparing to take holy orders, when the war broke out. Although he confessed that he hated fighting, he nevertheless felt that he must serve his country. Shortly after his exploits on the hill he was promoted captain.
