At 10-30 p.m. orders were received from the 19th Division for an immediate withdrawal west of Wulverghem. This was carried out before dawn, the line pivoting back on the left of the 12th Rifles, which joined up with the 178th Brigade west of the village. It was completed only just in time. With morning light the Germans opened an intense bombardment on the new position, which, for the greater part of its length, followed no old British trench. An infantry attack followed, and bodies of Germans broke through at the junction of the 12th Rifles and 178th Brigade. A counter-attack by the 1st Irish Fusiliers and the scanty reserves of the 12th Rifles, led by Major Holt Waring, failed to restore the position, but prevented the enemy gaining further ground on the left. Major Waring, a most gallant officer and a born leader of men, was killed. The left and centre of the 12th Rifles were very wisely withdrawn a few hundred yards to a famous communication trench of old days, known as "Kingsway." From this there was a fairly good field of fire. The 9th Irish Fusiliers had now been moved up from the Kemmel defences, and was ordered to send up two platoons to connect the right flank in "Kingsway" with the original line west of Wulverghem. These two platoons had an unfortunate fate. At dusk they were almost surrounded by groups of the enemy pressing forward, and were forced to fall back some hundred yards with heavy casualties.
At 2-15 a.m. on the 16th the little remnant of the Brigade began to withdraw on relief, covered by small outposts. It then marched back to a camp near La Clytte, suffering numerous casualties on its route from shell-fire. Four machine-guns remained near Kemmel village. The enemy was now indulging in what were known to artillerymen as area bombardments, concentrating upon half a square mile of country for half an hour, then switching his batteries to another. Such methods are ineffective unless based upon an enormous mass of heavy artillery. With this available, as it was on this occasion, they are extraordinarily noxious and demoralizing. Reserves, tired units withdrawn for a short rest, are kept constantly on the strain, ever wondering when their turn is coming, compelled hurriedly to shift position when it does. Severe loss and disorganization are caused to transport piqueted in the open or bringing up rations and munitions. A spot undisturbed at one minute becomes the centre-point of a hellish tornado at the next.
April the 16th, while the men of the 108th Brigade, wearied out and dazed by shell-fire, snatched what rest they could, was the occasion of furious fighting at Wytschaete. The village was lost in the morning, and retaken by a magnificent counter-attack of those veritable paladins of modern war, the Highland Brigade of the 9th Division. It could not be held on the morrow owing to its isolation, and the line had to be withdrawn to the neighbourhood of the old British trenches of 1917. The 17th, to many observers, appeared the blackest day they had seen. Almost everywhere the gains of years of desperate fighting had been lost. Passchendaele and Poelcappelle—to which there will be further reference when we return to the fortunes of the 36th Division—were gone. Huge slices of territory on which the Germans had never stood, or over which they had been hustled in retreat, were now in their possession. Bailleul, which had been at many periods a Corps Headquarters, had fallen. From villages such as Westoutre, where they had lived in comparative peace since 1914, the villagers were rushing out under shell-fire, pushing barrows, staggering under the burden of huge bundles, across the fields. Men asked whether we had any reserves remaining, whether the young American formations would ever be ready, whether the Channel ports could be saved.
And yet, though none who watched can have guessed it, hardly even the great soldier now in supreme command of the Allied Armies, or his British colleague, the day may have marked a turning-point. The French were hurrying north. Their troops were already in line on the right of the 9th Division; their field artillery, the "seventy-fives," rushed up, each at the tail of a lorry which carried the detachment, were lining the hills, the Scherpenberg, Mont Rouge, and Mont Vidaigne. The German infantry was suffering heavy loss. Black as was the night, there was, if as yet no faintest light of dawn, the paler gray on the horizon which is its herald.
On the evening of that day orders were received for the formation of the Brigade, which could now muster about four hundred rifles, into a composite battalion. This battalion, under the command of Colonel Kelly, was ordered to move down behind Kemmel Hill, in reserve, to be in position by 4 a.m. next morning. It encountered a storm of shelling on its way, having seventy casualties. Among the killed here was Captain Despard, 9th Irish Fusiliers, who had shown great tenacity and fine leadership during the retreat of the previous month. All day the battalion remained here, under very heavy fire, from which Kemmel now afforded but slight protection. At evening it was withdrawn, French troops having taken over the defence of this part of the line. The remnants of the Brigade marched all night, to Siege Camp and Hospital Farm, between Poperinghe and Elverdinghe, rejoining the 36th Division at 5-30 a.m. on the 19th of April.
The Brigade had, for the second time in a month, been cut to pieces. The 12th Rifles alone had had upwards of fifteen hundred casualties in that period. One often saw in our summaries of intelligence reference to reports that such and such a German formation had had particularly heavy losses, followed by a statement that it might be considered negligible for some time to come. Few can have had losses higher than those of the 108th Brigade, which had, as has been recorded, practically disappeared by the end of March. Yet in ten days' time this Brigade had entered another great battle, to prove itself very far from negligible. The admiration one feels for its achievements is mingled with surprise when one thinks of the youth and lack of experience in its ranks. Well did it merit its share of the commendation expressed in a telegram received from the G.O.C. IX. Corps the day before it was finally relieved. The message ran as follows:
"The C. in C. has just been at Corps H.Q. He would have liked to see all ranks now fighting on the 9th Corps front, and to tell each one of them of his personal appreciation of the magnificent fight they have made and are making. He would like to shake hands with each individual and thank him for what he has done. He has not time for this, but has asked me to give everybody this message."
The 36th Division, when the 108th Brigade departed on its desperate lone venture, was left with its front line east of Poelcappelle, and its headquarters on the Canal Bank. On that very day, March the 10th, the Army Commander decided to withdraw the II. Corps to its Battle Zone, here practically the British front line of 1917. The right of the 36th Division would now be just in front of Wieltje, so well known of old. An outpost line was, however, to be maintained upon the Steenebeek.
The retirement was absolutely essential, nor could it be delayed. By April the 11th the Germans were approaching the Forest of Nieppe. Passchendaele and Poelcappelle now protruded, an incredible salient, that made the old Ypres Salient unremarkable by comparison. Nevertheless, a few nights' respite was allowed, in order that the enemy might be deprived of the booty, and of the shelter for future operations, that had otherwise fallen to him. The heavy artillery was to move back first, bringing back all the ammunition that could possibly be carried, and tipping that which could not into shell-holes. An extensive programme of demolitions was planned by the C.R.E. Every dug-out or "pill-box" of importance was to be destroyed by explosives at the last possible moment. Craters were to be blown at important road-junctions. Light railways were to be, as far as possible, torn up or otherwise demolished.