The History of the 36th (Ulster) Division

by Cyril Falls

Stokes mortars and machine-guns were assigned important rôles in the early part of the attack. The 3-inch mortars belonging to the Division, less four a brigade, to be taken forward in the attack, were to open a hurricane bombardment for three and a half minutes at "Zero." A battery of 4-inch Stokes mortars, specially attached, was to preface the assault with a bombardment of the Spanbroek salient, with two lifts, using the highly demoralizing incendiary shell known as "thermit." Six guns of the Machine-Gun Companies of the attacking Brigades were to go forward with them; the rest of the guns of these companies, with those of the 108th, the 32nd, two sections of the 33rd, and six guns of the 19th Motor Machine-Gun Battery,[32] a total of sixty-six guns, were to be employed to provide a creeping barrage beyond that of the artillery, a standing barrage on the main defences of the ridge, and fire on strong points, woods, and ravines. One section of Tanks[33] was allotted. They were not to catch up the infantry till the Blue Line was reached, and in the advance to the Black Line were to concentrate mainly upon Wytschaete.

All the successive lines, with the exception of the Green, were to be consolidated, special strong points being established at such positions as L'Enfer Farm, Skip Point, and Jump Point, in the Blue Line; and Lumm Farm, Pick House, and Torreken Farm in the Black. The infantry was to start the work of consolidation; then, when the Black Line had been taken, the 121st and 150th Field Companies were to move up to work upon the principal strong points. After dusk on the evening of "Z" day, the 122nd Field Company was to move up and construct a wire entanglement along the whole front of the Black Line. Small opportunity, it will be seen, was left for successful counter-attack if the assault reached its objectives.

Two contact aeroplanes were to be in the air at once throughout the battle, calling at fixed hours, by the sounding of a Klaxon horn and the firing of a Vérey light, for the signals by which the infantry was to mark its progress. The latter consisted of green flares, lit in bunches of three, and the turning of Watson fans, marked white on one side and black on the other.

A whole series of mines, the greatest ever used in war, was to be fired at "Zero." Of these there were three on the 36th Division's front: one at Kruisstraat Cabaret, one at Spanbroekmolen, and one at Peckham. The second had been doubtful up to the last minute. The passage to the charge had been cut some time before by a German defensive "camouflet," and it had seemed as though the toil of a year and of thousands of men had been wasted. The tunnellers of the 171st Company had laboured unceasingly to cut a new gallery. On the eve of the action a scribbled note from the commanding officer to Colonel Place, G.S.O.1. of the Division, announced that the work was accomplished and that it was "almost certain" the mine would go up. In case there might be failure with this or any other charge, the assaulting infantry was instructed not to wait more than fifteen seconds after the opening of the barrage before leaving its trenches.

For the evacuation of the wounded there was an Advanced Dressing Station at Lindenhoek, close to the main road, skilfully prepared by the 109th Field Ambulance. Wounded could be carried into the main shelter by the entrance on the north side, from the trench tramway, given what attention was necessary, and conveyed out by the exit on the west side, where the motor ambulances of the Division arrived by a specially constructed semi-circular road. This relieved the main road at that point, and enabled the cars to sweep round without turning. The cars bore the wounded to the Main Dressing Station just east of Dranoutre, manned by the 108th Field Ambulance, while "walking wounded" were sent by a specially-marked track to the Main Dressing Station prepared for them and manned by the 110th Field Ambulance a mile east of the village. From these Dressing Stations the Motor Ambulance Park had the task of carrying the wounded to the two Casualty Clearing Stations in Bailleul. Distances were shorter and roads better than on the Somme; and, had the casualties been as many as on that occasion, they would have been removed in less than half the time and with far less discomfort to the wounded. As it most happily chanced, the casualties were less than a fourth of those at Thiepval.

So much for the preparations. Any of importance which have not been mentioned will appear in the account of the actual battle.

The 108th Brigade held the line during the period of preliminary bombardment, employing for the purpose the two battalions which it was to retain during the battle as divisional reserve. It having been decided to carry out some practice barrages in broad daylight, to note the effect of the smoke shell, and see whether any guns were shooting short, these seemed to offer good opportunity for big raids. The first of these raids took place at 3 p.m. on June the 3rd. A party of three officers and seventy other ranks of the 13th Rifles entered the enemy's trenches at Peckham behind the barrage, and after a short bombing fight captured nineteen prisoners of the 2nd German Division. On the following afternoon at 2 p.m., a larger party of the 9th Irish Fusiliers followed the barrage into the Spanbroek salient, returning with one officer and thirty men as prisoners—a remarkable haul for a raid. Their casualties were two killed and six wounded. It was a fine, sunny day, and, despite the haze of dust caused by the shelling, the whole operation could be seen in detail from the observation posts on Kemmel Hill. The barrage, though the rate of fire was but a third of what it was to be on the great day, was very impressive. It appeared a wall of curling smoke creeping slowly up the ridge. The figures of the infantrymen following it could be seen distinctly; there was the flash of bombs, and there were Germans coming from their dug-outs holding up their arms. As the party returned one man was seen to break away from it, walk back fifty yards in most leisurely fashion, summon forth two Germans whom he had evidently observed hiding in a hole, and bring them in at the point of the bayonet.

The day of battle was at hand. Nothing could have been more favourable than the elements to the British cause. The weather was clear for observation, dry, and not unduly cold at night.[34] The infantry which was to make the attack was bivouacked in tents and shelters, the 107th Brigade south of Locre, the 109th S.W. of Dranoutre, thus avoiding the shelling, particularly with gas, wherewith the Germans visited all our hutted camps. After dusk on June the 6th, "Y" day, these Brigades moved up to their positions of assembly, which consisted partly of our front and support line trenches, and partly of slit trenches specially dug. As on the occasion of the assembly for the Somme Battle, cross-country tracks had been prepared to avoid the congested roads. East of the Neuve Eglise-Lindenhoek Road there were no less than four tracks available for each brigade. It was reported that the assembly was complete, without a hitch, by 2-30 a.m. on June the 7th.

The reader must strive to imagine the emotions of the men who waited in the dark for the fateful moment. Some, the luckier ones, those of the battalions and attached troops that were to take the Blue Line, had but another forty minutes, though those forty minutes must have seemed long enough. The battalions which were to pass through them on that objective had two hours after that. It was eleven months since the Division had made its first great attack. Despite its heavy losses on that day and since, there was here a large proportion of officers and men who had taken part in it, including many who had then been wounded. They must have recalled, as they waited for the crash of opening artillery, with what high hopes they had gone forward on the banks of the Ancre. The task must have appeared to them almost equally formidable to-day. And yet there was a general feeling of confidence, and confidence not unreasoned. The British Army had learnt much since then, and the men in the line realized the growth of that knowledge and had their part in it. They had watched the stage prepared for the triumphant dénouement, prepared with matchless industry and forethought, and they were ready to play their part fitly when the curtain rose. There was among the men, it may be, less of that spirit of gay, generous, headlong valour, ready to spill itself without a thought of the cost, but there was a greater store of the soldier's craft; the craft which seeks to save itself that it may inflict the more loss upon the opponent. In fighting efficiency the Division, war-tried, but not war-weary, was probably, in the small hours of that June morning, at the highest pitch it ever attained.

Zero was at 3-10 a.m. It had been fixed, after long consultation with Divisions, by the Army as the hour at which men should be able to see just one hundred yards ahead. In the conferences after the battle the general opinion seemed to be that it had been put five or ten minutes too early. It had been arranged that a normal programme of harassing fire should be carried out, as a cessation of this would have appeared suspicious to the enemy. It seemed, nevertheless, to those who watched and waited, that the night was unusually quiet. A few of our howitzers spoke now and again, and from the German lines came regularly the hiccoughing double thud of their great gun, followed by the whine of its missile overhead, on its course to some objective as far back as Hazebrouck.