It was while at Roundhay Camp that the peaceful life was disturbed by startling rumours of a move to another front, and on the 15th of November, weight was given to the rumours by the sudden closing of the Brigade School. Leave, it was said, was stopped, and amid consternation groups of men gathered all over the camp to discuss the situation, those who wanted to be funny talking of ice cream and stilettos—for it was understood the Division was bound for Italy.
The “holiday” in the Arras district came to an abrupt end on the 18th of November, when the 13th East Yorks Battalion arrived, and the Civil Service Rifles left by Light Railway, and after a merry trip in the toy train, reached a camp of French huts at Ecoivres. There, in spite of rumours, a party of thirty other ranks went on leave, but speculation was rife as to whether they would complete their full time.
A few days were spent at Ecoivres, with many football matches, which included a Rugby trial match on the 20th of November. Interest in the Rugby match was diverted by the news, which arrived during the game, of the brilliant success of the 3rd Army near Cambrai. The attack had been kept secret, and the news came as a great surprise. It was said the Hindenburg Line was broken, the cavalry and tanks were pursuing the retreating enemy, and Cambrai itself would soon fall. In fact, the war would soon be over. Orders received that night for a move on the morrow gave rise to further speculation as to the destination of the Division, and at the “calling over of the card” in the Officers’ Mess, the betting was evens Cambrai, 6-4 Italy, and 100-1 England.
The movements of the Division during the last ten days of November, 1917, were such as would baffle the keenest member of the enemy Intelligence Department. Units appeared to be moving from one village to another with no particular object in view, and during the first few days of the trek from Ecoivres the Battalion Commanders themselves had no idea whether they were bound for Italy or the Cambrai front. The Civil Service Rifles started with a succession of short marches, and as a rule the billets were poor and the villages somewhat squalid. There was, however, little time to “grouse,” for the order to move on was usually received before the men had time to look round. After a night in billets at Hermaville and a night of extreme discomfort in dilapidated huts at Wanquetin, the village of Gouy en Artois was reached, where it was learnt that the Division was now in the Fifth Corps (3rd Army) and it was evident therefore that the move to Italy was “off.”
On the 24th of November the Battalion occupied a hutted camp in Courcelles le Comte, a ruined village won from the Bosches during their winter retreat of 1916. The roads and hamlets in this district were still clearly marked with the big signboards erected during the German occupation, and at one end of Courcelles could be seen the remains of a German cinema or theatre.
The camp itself had been built by English troops, and had at one time been a well laid out camp of Nissen huts; but now it was the abomination of desolation. The linings of the huts had been torn off for firewood, the windows were broken, the doors torn off their hinges, and every hut was strewn with rubbish. Fortunately only one night was spent in these conditions, and the march was resumed the next afternoon.
The march to Le Transloy on the 25th of November was unique. For the first hour everything went well, but from that time onwards the column was rarely on the move for more than ten minutes every hour. The usual order of things was thus reversed, and instead of a ten minutes halt in every hour, there was a ten minutes march per hour. Every road leading into Bapaume was choked with troops, and a perspiring A.P.M. was trying to sort out those bound for the front from those coming out into reserve.
Tea was served in the twilight on the Bapaume Road, and the next halt found the Battalion in the main street of the town. There were some there who had hoped to see Bapaume in 1916, but although they had ample opportunity to admire the ruins in the bright moonlight, they had now lost all interest in their surroundings, and many passed through without even knowing the name of the place.
Thoroughly fed up, the troops reached their camp shortly before midnight, and to crown a very miserable day they were so frightfully crowded into the huts that they could scarcely find room to lie down. “Posh Harry” was almost speechless when he saw his billet. “What I want to know,” he spluttered, “is where did the R.S.M. of the Guards sleep last night? They say the Guards were here, but I’m sure their R.S.M. would not sleep in there.”