On the evening of August 18th we moved back from Ste. Catherine Camp to the village of Anzin, two or three miles north-west of Arras, with instructions to move again very early next morning. This we certainly did, as we rose about 2 a.m., and had finished breakfast by 3 a.m. About 6 a.m. we moved down to the railway line between Anzin and St. Aubin—Artillery Point was the name of the spot—and entrained. A pleasant journey in open trucks on the light railway, which twisted and turned amid green woods and cornfields smiling in the lovely summer weather, brought us to Monchy Breton, about twenty miles west-north-west of Arras and some five miles north-east of St. Pol. Here we detrained and marched on about three miles to Magnicourt, another delightful little French village, which had escaped the destroying hand of war and nestled peacefully amid pleasant rural surroundings. Instead of the ordinary hutted camp that had formed our home at Anzin, we were billeted in comfortable farmhouses. We remained here for two days, doing a little quiet training; while some of the more privileged attended, on August 21st, a Tank lecture and demonstration at Monchy Breton. After settling down comfortably for the night, we were suddenly roused up again and told to be ready to move forthwith.
At 2.15 a.m. we were again on the march, and after passing through Chelers and Tinques, arrived about 3.45 a.m. at Penin, some nine miles due south of our starting-point. After breakfast all ranks turned into bed for a good sleep, "Reveillé" being at noon. It was a gorgeous day, but terribly hot, and the effect of the morning's sleep, coupled with the heat, made everyone feel very lethargic. At 9.25 the same night we set off once more, this time due south, passing Givenchy, Lignereuil, Grand Rullecourt, and Sus St. Leger, and reaching Ivergny at 2.45 a.m. on August 23rd. The march had been somewhat complicated by our having to cut across a Canadian Division moving west-north-west. We expected to renew our nocturnal rambles that night, but we were left in peace for twenty-four hours, resuming our march at 2.15 p.m. on August 24th in a north-easterly direction through Sombrin to Barly, some ten miles away, which we reached at 6.45 p.m.
At Barly we remained two days, making final preparations for the offensive. Seven officers and sixty men were detailed for the "nucleus party," and Major C. W. Wilson was appointed to command the Brigade "nucleus." At 11.30 p.m. we left Barly for Ficheux area, arriving at Le Chat Maigre at 2.45 a.m. on August 27th. Here we made a halt, and lay down to rest in the open fields. The march had been made in a fine, clear night and under ideal conditions, and the bivouac was really delightful.
The proximity of active hostilities was evidenced by (among other things) a number of tanks, both large and small, which waddled up the road near us. But the conditions were very different from those at Passchendaele the previous year. There you saw only an interminable stretch of mud and water, with never a living thing to vary the monotony of the scene except soaked and muddy soldiers. Here, on the contrary, we had fine rolling country, dry and firm, which even a spell of wet weather did not convert into a muddy swamp. Ripe corn stood ready for the cutting, birds sang, and save for the distant rumble of the guns all was peaceful and still. The villages, it is true, were razed to the ground and often half overgrown with grass and weeds—sad reminders of the first Battle of Cambrai; the ground was scarred and pocked with shell-holes, and the ravages of war were only too obvious in many other ways. Yet even in the war zone itself the open, rolling country was always pleasant to the eye, and the ground dry and firm except during actual rain.
At 11 p.m. we moved off to another field a few miles away at Mercatel, arriving soon after midnight. What might be described as our "circular tour of France" was now drawing to a close. These night marches, with all the comic incidents connected with night bivouacs, the confusion of settling down or setting off in the profound darkness, which the restless bombing 'planes made imperative, were soon to be but pleasing memories. One march more was to bring us to the Hindenburg Line.
At 11.30 a.m. we moved off, and in due course arrived at St. Martin, just in front of the redoubtable Line, and the Commanding Officer proceeded to the place forthwith. Meanwhile the men settled down in shell-holes amid the ruins, while Battalion Headquarters was established deep down in a dug-out under the remains of the church. Walking wounded and German prisoners were much in evidence. After a short delay the battalion moved in for the night into the Hindenburg front line, with all its mass of trenches, wire, and dug-outs—a truly magnificent work, but looking somewhat forlorn now that the tide of war had rolled eastward.
At 7 p.m. on August 29th we moved a little farther along the line, which here bent back in an easterly direction. This brought us to a point nearly due east of Fontaine Lez Croisilles, which was some 2,500 yards away and in close vicinity to the other two Brigades of our Division, which were already in action.
At 10 a.m. the battalion was ordered to take up its position as Brigade Reserve, the 2/7th and 8th Battalions K.L.R having moved up to form a defensive flank during the attack of the Canadian Division on Upton Wood, which was about a mile and a half west of Fontaine.
The companies took up ground positions on the south-west and south-east of Fontaine respectively.