The History of the Prince of Wales' Civil Service Rifles

by Anonymous

The so-called camp in Bottom Wood was the essence of discomfort, but after a meal and a few hours rest, a welcome move was made in the evening of the 20th September to Albert, where one night was spent in deserted houses.

The march was continued the following day, and the Battalion arrived at a tented camp in a wood just outside the village of Henencourt, where Corps Headquarters was situated in a magnificent château, the grounds of which were a replica of those of the Palace of Versailles. There was little to suggest the luxury of Versailles, however, in the camp occupied by the Civil Service Rifles, for although the Battalion was depleted, the accommodation was scarce and every one was crowded.

The process of refitting and reorganisation was begun, and to a draft of one officer and 375 other ranks, who joined at Henencourt was added a fair sprinkling of officers, N.C.O.’s and men who had missed High Wood through leave, courses, or other causes. Thus the strength of the Battalion was restored on paper, but in actual fact it was still but a shadow of its former self.

The officers spent most of their time at Henencourt Wood in writing letters of condolence to bereaved parents, and the Company Quartermaster Sergeants and senior N.C.O.’s were busy packing up and sending off the personal effects of the killed and wounded, so that on the whole, the ten days’ sojourn in this camp was not a joyous one. The Divisional Follies tried to cheer things up by giving a show one evening, but the proceedings fell flat, and those who wanted a little diversion while the Battalion was at Henencourt sought it in Amiens.

The last day of the month of September, 1916, found the Civil Service Rifles once more on the way back to war, for after spending one night in Albert, they occupied some disused trenches, entirely devoid of dug-outs, in what was known as the Quadrangle, near Mametz Wood. Here they waited eagerly for news of the attack by the 141st Brigade on the village of Eaucourt L’Abbé, for which the 140th Brigade was in reserve.

Numerous contradictory reports reached Colonel Warrender during the few days spent in the Quadrangle, but at last it became known definitely that Eaucourt L’Abbé had been captured, and that the 140th Brigade would go there to relieve the 141st, but would only hold the line—there would not be any further attack!

The relief which took place on the night of the 4th October, when the Civil Service Rifles relieved the Poplar and Stepney Rifles in the Flers Line at Eaucourt L’Abbé, was an ordeal almost as trying as a battle.

The march from the Quadrangle began at 4.0 p.m. on the 4th, and the tail of the Battalion reached the Flers Line at dawn the next day. The event was so unique that no apology is offered for a somewhat lengthy description:—

All was going well until the corner of High Wood was reached, where, according to plan, guides would be picked up. There were, however, several corners to High Wood, and the Lewis gun limbers, mess cart and medical cart were not taken to the same corner as the one to which the Battalion went.

After a very long delay, while Lewis guns, etc., were carried through the wood from the limbers to the Battalion over many awkward obstacles such as wide trenches and barbed wire, a start was made by half the Battalion, and about two hours afterwards the remainder of the Battalion was ready. The way was along a track of sticky mud of the typical Somme variety. The night was pitch black and the men slipped about and frequently their feet stuck in the mud. It was often necessary for two men to pull at another man to get him out of the mud, and as they got their man out they found themselves stuck in in turn. At one time Colonel Warrender was heard to tell the M.O. that a man had fallen down, but he feared it was no use going back to him “as he must have been trampled in by now.” The progress along the track, slow as it was, became slower still when one after another the guides announced that they were lost and had not the slightest idea in which direction to go. A touch of humour crept into the adventure when Colonel Warrender, addressing a guide who said he hadn’t the remotest idea where he was, told him to go back to his Commanding Officer and report that he was of no use!