CHAPTER XI
REST AND BATTLE
The Battalion stood greatly in need of a respite from fighting. As we have seen, it had lost rather more than a third of its fighting strength. It is true that numbers had been practically maintained by a succession of drafts, but time was required to assimilate these men into the companies, and to complete their training, which was in some respects seriously deficient. Conscription had only come into operation in the spring, and voluntary supplies had fallen very low; the wastage of the first two months of the Somme had therefore to be made good by men whose average length of service was no more than three months. Some of them were by no means familiar with the handling or mechanism of their rifles, and knew nothing about a bomb, while their marching powers, as tested by the hot July sun and the dusty roads, fell short of the required standard. The Companies, also, which had suffered very unequally in the fighting, required considerable reorganisation, while many fresh N.C.O.'s had to be created, and made familiar with their duties as far as the short time available permitted.
The Brigade made a long two days' journey from Bouzincourt, a crowded little village west of Albert, through Beauval, where the inhabitants welcomed us for one night in our old billets, to Cramont. Here, in glorious midsummer weather the Battalion spent ten days enjoying with an intense pleasure, after the blasted and featureless battle front, the peacefulness of a charming village, with green fields and trees, almost beyond the sound of the guns. The whole of this period was allotted to Company Training, and many hours were spent in bayonet fighting and bombing. Every man, indeed, threw at least two live bombs, a practice which proved of the greatest value in the August fighting ahead.
Major Barron's cinematograph and Divisional Band made their reappearance, to the general pleasure; whilst all clothing received a much-needed disinfecting from a travelling thresher. The brief interlude was soon over. On 9th August the Battalion moved back in the same direction, though a detour caused by blocked roads, lengthened the return journey to three days. Bouzincourt was now the daily target of long-range guns, and as cellar room was very limited it was thought prudent for the Battalion to bivouac outside the village on the Senlis road. The Division was returning to exactly the same sector west of Pozières, where the 12th Division had been operating during our absence. The difficulties of the uphill advance may be estimated by the fact that the line had been advanced barely half a mile during that period. On the night of the 12th, however, our 5th Battalion, taking the Huns by surprise, won an important success by taking Ridge Trench or 6th Avenue, at the crest of the long slope, with a view northward and eastward. This they accomplished at the incredibly low cost of three casualties. Three platoons of the Oxfords crawled up in daylight next morning and successfully relieved them without incident. The remainder of that day passed quietly; the Battalion were in dugouts round the southern and eastern outskirts of Ovillers, in support to the Oxfords, comparatively comfortable and secure, and expecting no immediate call. But they were to undergo within 24 hours by far their severest ordeal since they landed in France.
The first hint of trouble came at 9.30 p.m. that evening, when a message from the Oxfords stated that the enemy were trying to bomb them out of the trench. An hour later the Brigade ordered bombs to be sent up, and Nos. 1 and 2 Platoons, under Lieut. Garside, were sent forward. It was at that time intended that the Oxfords themselves should undertake the counter-attack; but Sergt. Taylor went to the Oxford Headquarters to maintain close touch between the two Battalions. At 12.50 a.m. D Company were similarly put by the Brigade under the orders of Colonel Bartlett, and left with a further supply of bombs. Colonel Clarke realised that the situation was becoming more serious, and that further help might be demanded of him, though he was at present assured that one Company would be sufficient. The other two Companies were accordingly warned to be in instant readiness, and Captain Lewis moved C Company out of their dugouts into one of the communication trenches leading up to the Oxfords' Headquarters, which were in the line captured by the Bucks on July 23rd. Here they waited after bombs and a bandolier a-piece had been served out. Two hours passed in uncertainty. But at 2.50 a.m. an unwelcome message was received from Colonel Bartlett, asking Colonel Clarke if he would undertake the counter-attack. The latter most naturally refused, on the ground that Colonel Bartlett was on the spot, knew the ground (which our Battalion had never seen), and had his own Battalion with 1-½ of our Companies. The Brigadier, however, finding that the Oxfords were not in a position to take the action required, owing to their losses, made a virtue of necessity, and ordered Colonel Clarke to do so as soon as possible. It was now 3 a.m.; the Oxford Headquarters had already told us that 1-½ hours would be quite sufficient to get the Battalion into its assaulting position. The attack was therefore fixed for 4.45 a.m., and a 7-minutes barrage arranged with the artillery. C Company and the remaining two platoons of A began their journey forward with all speed, though time was found to give each man his tot of rum before starting. They reached Point 18 on the place of assembly (which will be remembered as the junction between Bucks and Berks on July 23rd) about 4.15. Here Colonel Clarke found the Company Commanders with Captain Pickford, of the Oxfords. The latter gave them the disastrous information that another hour would be required to get into position instead of the half hour previously estimated. Colonel Clarke instantly went back to Oxford Headquarters to make the necessary alterations with the artillery, and to secure a barrage commencing at 5.15 a.m. Meanwhile the Companies doubled up, with C leading and A in the rear. The need for haste was most urgent, for the day was breaking and the trench was seriously battered. The men crouched low as they ran, but the Hun probably saw their heads, for shrapnel was sprinkled along the communication trench, causing a few casualties. As Captain Blandy (O.C. A Company) approached the head of the communication trench in broad daylight, he looked at his watch and found it was already 5.10 a.m. His remaining two platoons were waiting for him, lying low in the trench, very weary, for they had been carrying all night. They got up and followed along at the rear of the Company. Turning right-handed they entered a vacant and much-broken fire trench. A man looked over the parapet and exclaimed: 'There are our boys going over on the right,' These were C and D Companies. An officer of the Oxfords came along at the moment trying to straighten things out, but he had no detailed orders, and did not know where the flanks of the Companies were to rest. Moreover, there was no barrage.
Thus the three Companies went over most bravely, in face of almost certain failure. They had 250 yards of absolutely unfamiliar ground to cover. The rifle and machine-gun fire was intense, and terribly accurate. The Huns, having no shells directed at them, stood up in their trenches aiming deliberately at each man in the broken and thinning lines. Short rushes were made from shell-hole to shell-hole, each rush proving very costly in casualties. Few, if any, of the men got within 100 yards of the enemy. Captain Attride had been wounded in the body, and Captain Lewis in the thigh, and hardly an officer was left. It was evident that no bravery or determination on earth could turn failure into success. The men began, therefore, in accordance with orders to edge into a shallow communication trench only half finished, which the 5th Berks had started from their old line to 6th Avenue. It was a poor shelter, but offered a chance of safe return. Captain Lewis reached it with his orderly's help, and, though grievously wounded, was brought back. Captain Attride was shot through the head as he reached the very edge, and pitched forward dead. He had commanded D Company for nine months with the greatest tact and ability; his many friends mourned the best of comrades. Captain Blandy was shot through the face and blinded for the time while stepping out of the way of a wounded man lying at the bottom of the trench. Some men still lay out scattered in shell-holes, not daring to move, for the Hun still aimed at every living thing, picking off the wounded if they stirred. After a while a British aeroplane flew low over the scene, sounding its horn. Sergt. Page resourcefully lit some flares, which he had with him, and the pilot flew back. He proved a good friend in necessity, for almost immediately our 9.2's opened on 6th Avenue, the heads of the Huns disappeared, and the survivors made quickly for the communication trench. One of them, in entering, stepped on the body of an officer; he turned him over, and saw that it was Captain Attride. The casualties were naturally very heavy. Besides those officers already mentioned the killed were Lieut. O'Hara (1st East Surrey Regiment, attached), 2nd Lieut. Beasley (whose little son was presented with the M.M. which his father had won by the King when he visited Reading in March, 1918), and 2nd Lieut. Bartram, while 2nd Lieut. Taylor was wounded. He lay out for 48 hours, tended throughout that time with wonderful devotion by Sergt. Westall, who well earned a bar to his D.C.M. This sergeant, the bravest of the brave, when with the 2/4th next autumn near Arras, was last seen in a shell-hole close to the German wire, during a daylight patrol, laughing at the Huns, who were firing rifle grenades at him, but has since returned safely from captivity in Germany. Casualties among other ranks were 140, of whom 28 were killed and 31 missing, of most, if not all, of whom, I fear, no news has ever been heard. Failure is often more heroic than success, and I believe that those who read this imperfect account will realise that on August 14th the Battalion showed the highest and hardest form of courage.