At the same time as the 3rd Brigade were capturing Catillon, the 2nd Brigade on their right had shown great gallantry in forcing their section of the Canal. They had been ordered to cross by a lock south of the town, but it was a desperate business, for the lock itself was hard to reach, with banks and water in front of it, all strenuously defended. The infantry, with their attendant bridging parties of sappers, were held up for a time, but Colonel Johnson of the 2nd Sussex restored the situation, personally leading the assault forward. It was again checked by the hurricane of fire, but he again rallied it and eventually led it across. In the subsequent official report attached to his V.C., it was stated that the offensive spirit that he had inspired in his Sussex men was entirely responsible for the successful crossing.
By 8.45 the Thirty-second Division reported that their right brigade had got across, but owing to the enfilade fire two battalions of the left brigade had been unable to do the same. About midday, however, they were all over and had established themselves in a position south-west of Landrecies. The First Division was now touching Mezières with its left, where it was pushing on to Fesmy, while the German line seemed to be dissolving in front of it. It was a great day for the old division which had fought so gallantly from the first gunshot of the war to this which was so nearly the last one. Much of the credit of the victory is due to General Cartwright, the Corps Engineer, upon whom the weight of these various arrangements had fallen.
The Germans were now so fluid that a light cavalry screen was pushed out in front of the Corps, and the Forty-sixth Division advanced on November 5 behind it. By 9 A.M. the Thirty-second Division was in Favril, in touch with the Twenty-fifth on their left. Late on November 6 Cartignies was occupied. The advance rolled forward without serious interruption, though there was some bickering round Avesnes, and on November 8 the Thirty-second Division was established upon the high ground east of that town. At this time, as already recorded, the operations of the Fourth Army were confined to the single mobile column commanded by General Bethell, which was all that could be sent forward on account of the want of every sort of supply. Two days later came the sudden news of the signing of the Armistice. Never was there so sudden and wonderful a change. From dark cloud to bright sunshine seemed to have been the work of an hour. The long hurricane had blown out at last and left only the weals across the country which marked its passage. British officers have recorded how they sped eastwards in motor cars, and noted as far as the eye could range the white flags of joy and enfranchisement flying from the farm-houses and the village spires. The only signs of the invaders were the litter of abandoned equipment, lorries, and guns along the roads. For many a week, however, they left terrible marks of their passage in their delay-action mines, which, with their usual ruthless and reckless brutality, they had left in railway stations and other crowded points along the line of their operations, and which exploded long after the Armistice had been declared. This also was weighed against them in the day of doom, but indeed the scale was already overfull, and nothing which they could do could add to the horror and detestation with which they were regarded by the world, or to the absolute determination that they should never again raise their heads—or at least that those heads should never be crowned by the helmet of war. Such was the ultimate result of the doctrine of the Superman, of might is right, and of the whole material philosophy which had emanated from Frederick, miscalled the Great, and poisoned all Central Europe.
So ended the splendid work of Braithwaite's Ninth Corps. Its total advance since September 18 had been 50 miles, during which time it had captured nearly 17,000 prisoners and 318 guns.
