Canada in Flanders, Volume II

by Baron Max Aitken Beaverbrook

On the evening of the 6th, the 28th were coming up in successive parties to the support of the right of that hard-tried Battalion, and had effected a junction with Major Daly (31st) behind our own craters. Their instructions were to pick up bombers of the 31st and to assault and capture Craters 2 and 3. They actually advanced against Craters 4 and 5. The bombing attack was led by Lieut. V. P. Murphy (25th), who succeeded in establishing himself nearer the hostile craters than any previous advance had done. He was supported by Capt Styles (28th), who exposed himself with the greatest gallantry in the continuous attempt to keep touch with the various scattered units of the 28th and the 31st. But the mud was almost impassable, the darkness intense, the position of the enemy uncertain, and the ground a mere mass of holes.

Dawn, April 7th, 1916.

Dawn found the Canadian infantry still entrenched in Craters 6 and 7, but with no visible progress towards the enemy positions. The attacking parties had lost their way or been overwhelmed by sheer exhaustion. This is the more remarkable, because it is clear that the Germans were throughout the night in position in Craters 4 and 5.

Night, April 6th-7th, 1916.

It thus appears that throughout the night of April 6th-7th, the enemies can only have been separated by the distance of less than forty yards, between Craters 6 and 5. In fact, a few German patrols, as much confused as their opponents, walked straight into the Canadian craters in the dark and were taken prisoners! And yet neither side succeeded in coming to grips with the other. It was as though an impenetrable curtain had fallen between the contending parties of infantry. The mud, the darkness, and the shells made every movement a failure. That such a state of affairs could be possible can only be understood by the insight of imagination or by an actual experience of the ground and the conditions. But a study of the photographs taken by aeroplanes makes it at least intelligible. Among the infinite traceries of lines, trenches new and old, which wrinkle the surface of the chart, the rims of the four great centre craters stand out ominous and distinct. We actually see down into the hollows held by the lurking Germans as one gazes through the sunlit depths of a rock-bound pool to where the tiny monsters of the deep dart in and out of their caves and recesses upon the clear floor of the sea. Away to the right lies Crater 1, a perfect circle of light and shade with its foliated edges like the milling on the rim of a coin. Across a flattish, almost unmarked surface, the Canadian and the British communication trenches drive north and south of it from the strong serrated line of our own trenches, until they strike the intricate tangle of the old German front line. But turn your eyes to the centre and to the ground which lies directly between St. Eloi and the craters. The old outstanding British position on the right crumbles away into a vague tangle of flattened outlines. Behind it the whole surface of the ground is pockmarked with the white dots which indicate shell-holes, and in front of it there is no solid earth at all, but a bewildering labyrinth of minor craters spreading out till they touch the four huge eruptions.

St. Eloi Craters

On the left the space is a trifle more open. Craters 6 and 7 held by us can be distinguished as mere holes separated by some forty or fifty yards from the giant rim of Crater 5. From high up it looks so clear, but to the men struggling in the dark over that quagmire, sweating to dig themselves in by daylight under the pitiless hail of death, it appeared confusion worse confounded. Looking down from a great altitude on the passionless picture in high relief it is hard to imagine that here men battled in the mud till they could do so no more, and tasted the bitterness of failure as they fought and died for their country. The photographic record seems cold compared with the ideals and efforts the result of which it enshrines. One turns from it as one might turn from the privacy of the human soul outraged by Omniscience. All this chaos was to the advantage of the Germans once they had seized the dominant position.

From the rear came continued orders to take the enemy's entrenchments at any cost, and a constant trickle of reinforcements was sent struggling up the communication trenches or dashing across the open in groups the moment the barrage lifted. But in the conditions existing at the front, all these groups seemed to melt away. Units went up and were heard of no more at Headquarters. The bare official reports are tragic. One can select any one at random; for instance, this from Lieut.-Col. Embury, of the 28th:—"I told Capt. A. G. Styles (28th) he was to come around north of the craters. He started off at 11.30 and left part of his men with Major Daly. It was dark and raining hard and we had never seen the ground before. The craters looked just like the ordinary ground. Styles went up and found Lieut. V. P. Murphy (25th) at 4 o'clock a.m., but had no time to fix up for the attack. The men were all in; they had only had three hours' sleep in forty-eight." Night, April 6th-7th, 1916. But it is impossible for the contemporary writer in the space at his disposal to give a clear and detailed picture of the movements of all these units or of the valour displayed by individuals. The fog of war lies heavy on the scene of confusion and heroic effort, and if (which is very unlikely) it is to be lifted at all, it must be by the hand of the future historian. The troops did their best, but the odds both of man and Nature were against them. The 28th Battalion throughout the fighting set a notable example of gallantry and endurance.