Neuve Chapelle, March 10, 1915.
(From the drawing by D. Macpherson. By permission of The Sphere.)
This picture shows a batch of the Prussian Guards surrendering to the 2nd Battalion of the Middlesex Regiment at the first line of trenches before the village of Neuve Chapelle. The distance at this point from the British advanced line was about sixty-five yards, and our men were upon the enemy while most of them were still dazed from the effects of the terrific bombardment. The prisoners were taken in batches of thirty or forty, and were handed over to the oncoming lines of supports until they were passed back to headquarters, the captors meanwhile sweeping on with the advance.
Meanwhile the success of the 25th Brigade had turned the flank of the Germans north of the village, and when the 23rd Brigade at last managed to struggle through the orchard and join hands with the 24th Brigade, which had attacked to their left, the time had come for the combined force to sweep onward to the Aubers ridge. The Germans were still dazed with surprise, and completely paralyzed by the heavy bombardment of the morning; while our men were flushed with victory, and were eager to press forward. But at this moment there was a long delay. The telephone wires had been cut by the bursting shells, and it was difficult to get orders quickly to the first line. The check to the 23rd Brigade had thrown everything out of gear. A halt had to be called for fresh troops to come up, and they were very slow in arriving. The village was ours by noon, but not until 3.30 did the reserve brigades arrive. Had they been brought up promptly the Aubers ridge would have been won. As it was, we were robbed of a great victory. A splendid chance had been thrown away, and an unavailing sacrifice of life was to follow.
The newly-arrived brigades, all belonging to the 7th Division, which had won such glory in the October battle round Ypres, formed up on the left of the 24th Brigade, and the attack began again; but everywhere difficulties were met with. The Germans had taken advantage of the lull to strengthen their third line of trenches, and had brought up reinforcements. When our men advanced they were ready to receive them. The Indian brigades pushed through the wood towards the ridge, but could make but little headway, and suffered terrible losses. One of the Indian battalions would have been entirely cut off but for a splendid bombing attack by the 2nd Leicesters. It was at this point of the battle that the 3rd London—a Territorial regiment—made a brilliant charge to aid the front line, and won the cheers of their regular comrades by their gallantry and devotion.
Further to our left the 25th Division was checked along the line of the little river, while the 24th Brigade and 7th Division were held up by machine-gun fire from the cross roads and the defences of Pietre Mill. The line of the river could not be forced without artillery "preparation." Everywhere in this part of the line there were German positions which our big guns had not touched. To push infantry against them was simple murder. So, as the evening closed in, we busied ourselves in strengthening the positions which we had already won. The village was ours; we had gained a mile, and had straightened out our line. We had, however, failed in the bigger business of seizing the Aubers ridge.
Not until darkness fell did the 1st Brigade of the First Corps arrive. Next morning our guns began to boom again, but they could not repeat the surprise of yesterday. The Germans had pulled themselves together; their lines were strongly reinforced, and mist prevented the artillery observers from directing the fire of their guns. More than once our infantry were caught by their own shells. We could make no further headway, and on the 12th the Bavarians advanced against Neuve Chapelle, an officer on horseback with drawn sword leading them right up to the Worcesters, who met them with a shattering fire. At another point twenty-one machine guns were turned against them, and they fell by the hundred. So fierce was the fire that the survivors were forced to protect themselves behind ramparts of their own dead.
All that day the 7th Division struggled to carry Pietre Mill, while the rest of the line attacked the bridges over the river and the German trenches in the wood. Round about the mill the fighting was very fierce; ground was gained and lost again; houses were captured and recaptured; and friend and foe were mixed up in confused hand-to-hand fighting. Here it was that the 6th Gordons lost Lieutenant-Colonel Maclean. A subaltern found him lying in the open behind the trench with a bullet in his back, and sinking fast. The young officer brought him morphia to ease his pain, and when he had taken it he said, "And now, my boy, your place is not here. Go about your duty." So died a very gallant gentleman.
Victoria Crosses were won on this part of the front by Private Edward Barber and Lance-Corporal Wilfred Fuller of the Grenadiers for a brilliant bombing attack, of which we shall read later. Further south, the 2nd Rifle Brigade managed to carry a section of German trenches, and Sergeant-Major Daniels and Corporal Noble did deeds of outstanding valour which won them the proudest decoration that a soldier can wear. Unhappily, their unit, the Rifle Brigade, was enfiladed and forced to fall back on its old lines.
By the evening of the 12th Sir John French was convinced that nothing more could be won, and he ordered the attack to be suspended for the present. All the 13th was spent by our weary soldiers in digging themselves in on the banks of the little river which they had failed to cross. So worn out were many of the men that they fell asleep while standing at their loopholes. Counter-attacks were to be expected, and they soon began, but met with no success. Only at one point, north-east of the village, did the Germans manage to get into our trenches, and their stay was brief indeed. In one of their attacks they lost more than 600 prisoners, and the captured men seemed glad to be out of the terrible fighting.
The most severe counter-attack was made not at Neuve Chapelle, but at the tiny Belgian hamlet of St. Eloi, 15 miles to the north, and at the junction of two main roads. On the 14th, when mists lay thick on the flats, the Germans, following our example at Neuve Chapelle, began a fierce bombardment of our trenches, and at the same time exploded mines on our front and on a large mound which we held to the south-east of the village. The infantry attacks of the enemy were very determined; our men were driven from their trenches, and our whole line had to fall back. Under cover of the darkness we prepared for a counter-attack, and on the morning of the 15th managed to win back most of the lost ground. The mound, which our soldiers called "the Mound of Death," was not recovered; it lay in the No Man's Land between the rival trenches, exposed to the gun fire of friend and foe.
In this action Princess Patricia's Own specially distinguished itself, and won the praise of Sir John French. It co-operated with a battalion of the Rifle Brigade in an attack on the mound, and advanced with great coolness and resolution, but was checked by a murderous machine-gun fire. Three platoons, however, held on to a breastwork, while the remainder retired across a zone of fire without leaving behind them a single wounded man. Five days later Princess Pat's lost its commanding officer, Lieutenant-Colonel Francis Farquhar, one of the bravest and kindest of men.
You will remember that our assault on Neuve Chapelle was supported by other attacks on various parts of the German front, in order to prevent the enemy from suddenly massing reinforcements against our main attack. I need not describe these operations, for they were only "holding attacks," and were not expected to succeed. Nevertheless the assault on a hamlet to the south-east of Armentières was successful, and an advance of 300 yards on a front of half a mile was made.
Our airmen were very busy during the three days of struggle, though the weather was against them. Bombs were dropped on railway stations and bridges behind the German lines, and much damage was done. One daring aviator flying over Lille hit a house which was used as the German headquarters.
The Battle of Neuve Chapelle was not a failure, but it was not a complete success. We straightened out the sag in our line; we won the village, advanced one mile, took 2,000 prisoners, and killed or wounded 20,000 of the enemy. Our offensive put new heart into our men, who went into battle with the utmost zeal, joking and laughing even under fire. It is said that when they crowded into the German first-line trenches and there was no room for them all to line the parapet, a man would pull his comrade down, crying out that it was his turn for a shot. The Indians greatly welcomed the opportunity of fighting in the open, and the Gurkhas and Garhwalis plied their kukris with deadly effect. Our losses were very heavy. In the three days' fighting we had about 13,000 casualties: 2,337 men and 190 officers were killed.
Our failure to "make good" at a time when the Germans were almost at our mercy was as much due to accident as to blunder. Parts of the enemy lines had not been properly "prepared," and some of our troops were shelled by their own guns. This was, no doubt, due to the dull sky and the mists, which prevented the observers from properly controlling the fire of their guns. It was our first attempt to combine artillery and infantry on a great scale, and, naturally, mistakes were made. The best result was the new ardour which inspired our men. "This time," said one of them, "it was pushing the Germans, instead of trying to hold them. You can't realize, unless you have been in it from Mons onwards, how that bucks you up."
The German people took their beating very badly. They accused us of using German prisoners to screen our advance, and they complained bitterly that we had brought such a vast force of artillery against them. "This is not war; it is murder," they said, coolly ignoring the fact that a mighty artillery onslaught had been their favourite method of attack since the beginning of the war. When they were given a taste of their own medicine they cried out in the usual fashion of the bully.