However, in this case, the Princess Pat's fought their way up the slope until most of their effective strength was gone; and then Sergeant Mullin went forward to reconnoitre the possibilities of a flanking attack. Finding a place where one man could advance unobserved, but where the movement of a party would certainly bring disaster, he made his way forward alone.
Crawling through the brush, he reached a point close to a sniper's post just before the master pill-box on the top of the hill. He destroyed this post and its garrison with bomb-fire, then made straight for the pill-box. It must have appeared most heroically absurd—this attack by one man upon a concrete fort bristling with men and guns—but Mullin knew very well what he was about. It was all done before the eyes of our men, who were swarming up the slope, regardless of the heavy fire in their anxiety to be in at the finish. Mullin climbed on to the roof of the pill-box. Crawling to the centre, he fired down upon the German machine-gunners inside, laying them out across their weapons. Then, sliding down the roof, he landed beside the entrance just in time to receive the surrender of the thoroughly demoralized garrison.
The capture of this fort decided the issue upon the local front, for the offensive capacity of the pill-box proved as great in the hands of the Canadians as it had in those of the enemy. Our objective was gained and consolidated, and excellent positions assured for the next attack.
[PRIVATE JAMES PETER ROBINSON, 27TH BATTALION]
Late in the afternoon of November 5th, the 27th (City of Winnipeg) Battalion, under Lieutenant-Colonel P. J. Daly, D.S.O., left Hill 37 and began the weary tramp along the duckboard trail to the front line. The village of Passchendaele was to be captured by the 2nd Canadian Division on the morrow, and all along the Corps front soldiers, weary with long days in the trenches, were being replaced by fresh men. The relief of the 29th Battalion was completed early in the evening, but the move to the assembly position was not made for several hours, Colonel Daly contenting himself with establishing a line of posts some fifty yards in advance of the front line, to intercept any inquisitive Hun. Soon after midnight the men moved to the assembly, and by 3 a.m. the gathering was complete and the troops resting in the mud after their long tramp from the reserve area.
The night was very dark, and, though the enemy did not spare his artillery, few casualties were caused. On the left of the 27th Battalion lay the troops of the 31st, and on the right those of the 26th. Their objective this time was the village of Passchendaele itself, and the men were pleased because it was their part to attack the real objective of the whole offensive, after the stubborn preliminary operations of the 26th and 30th of October.
Promptly at 6 a.m. our barrage came down, 150 yards in advance of our front line, and from there it advanced, at a rate of 100 yards in eight minutes, with our men close behind. The morning was dull and overcast, and the attack appeared to be a complete surprise, the assailants following so close upon the curtain of shell-fire that they were amongst the enemy and using their bayonets freely before the surviving Germans had recovered from the whirl of flame and explosions that had so suddenly enveloped them.
The German front line of defence consisted of fortified shell-holes, and many of the machine-guns established there were knocked out at once by our heavy fire; the occupants stood no chance against our men with the bayonet, and the Canadians swept over with scarcely a halt, catching up the barrage and reaching the outskirts of Passchendaele town just behind it. The troops holding the enemy's main line before the village had no desire to try conclusions with the owners of those free-swinging bayonets, and without hesitation they bolted, unfortunately for themselves, arriving in the middle of the ruined town simultaneously with our barrage, which had been arranged to play on this portion of the objective for a double space of time. But strong emplacements amongst the masonry still gave our men pause.
On the left flank of the 27th Battalion a German machine gun, surrounded by uncut wire and broken, reinforced walls, formed an ideal point for stubborn defence. The flanking platoon charged this position three times, and on each occasion was driven back. The assaults were met by the point-blank fire of the machine-gun, and by bullets from riflemen in the ruined houses along the main street of the village. Then, while his platoon brought as heavy rifle and Lewis gun fire as possible to bear upon the emplacement, Private Robertson crossed the open line of fire alone, and running round the flank of the position, leapt the barbed wire and got in with his bayonet among the garrison. He had bayoneted several men before the gun crews had gathered their wits to meet the sudden onslaught, and his furious fighting daunted the remainder. They fled, nothing left them but the instinct of self-preservation. But Robertson did not intend to let them escape—he had been told too often at his training camp that his aim in life, nay, his whole ambition and purpose, should be centred on the elimination of the Bosche. Seizing the captured gun, he swung it about and opened fire on the running men, killing most of them before his platoon had arrived at the position he had captured so gallantly. Then, bearing the captured gun with him, he continued on his way towards the final objective, the eastern outskirts of the town, meeting with several opportunities to use his new weapon and wasting none. The troops followed him down the main Passchendaele street, past the broken church, mopping up the enemy's strong points among the masonry as they advanced, and taking few prisoners. About each damaged machine-gun and every ruined cottage they left German dead, almost every man killed with the bayonet.