When the trenches were cleared the infantry swept on to the chateau, and captured the ruins of the stables, where they dug in. The attack had been very successful, and our losses were very few, because of the searching bombardment which had preceded the attack. Correspondents describe the high spirits of our men on that day. It is said that many of the less seriously wounded failed to report themselves, because they did not wish to miss the rest of the fighting.
At half-past nine that night German shells began to fall fast and thick on our new positions, and our men dropped fast. We lost some of our trenches north of Sanctuary Wood, and had to retire to a little way in front of the Crater. The enemy had made a curtain of fire behind our lines, and reliefs could only be brought up at great loss. The battalion which had dug in near the stables was ordered to withdraw; but four officers and 200 men did not receive the order, and hung on until relieved late the next morning. A small party of Durham Light Infantry, under Corporal Smith, held out even longer, and only retired when fresh troops took over their position.
Gradually the fighting died away. We had recovered our former position, and what is more, we had proved that, given proper artillery "preparation," the strongest German lines could be pierced. The New Army won its spurs at Hooge, but at a very heavy cost.
The Liverpool Scottish and other Regiments charging at Hooge.
(By permission of The Illustrated London News.)
This picture shows the British charge at Hooge (June 16, 1915) which won the whole of the enemy's first-line trenches on a front of a thousand yards and parts of his second line. By noon on the day of this charge over a hundred and fifty prisoners had been passed to our rear. (See page [327].)
The following officers and men were awarded the Victoria Cross for deeds of remarkable courage during the period between the Battle of Festubert and the end of the first week in August:—
Private William Mariner, 2nd Battalion, King's Royal Rifle Corps.
During a violent thunderstorm on the night of May 22, 1915, Private Mariner left his trench at a place just south of Cuinchy, for the purpose of destroying an enemy machine gun that was annoying our men. He took with him a supply of bombs, and just before starting out on his perilous mission, asked his sergeant to open fire on the enemy's trenches as soon as he had thrown his bombs. This meant that he was prepared to sacrifice himself, for he was bound to be in the line of fire from his own trench, and could only escape death or wounding by a miracle. He crept out into "No Man's Land," wormed his way through the German wire entanglements, and reached the emplacement of the gun. Climbing on to the top of the parapet, he hurled a bomb on to the roof of the emplacement. When the roar of the explosion subsided, he heard the noise of men running away. About a quarter of an hour later he heard the enemy returning. At once he climbed up on the other side of the emplacement, and with his left hand threw another bomb. Then he lay flat, while the Germans fired round after round on the wire entanglement behind him. For more than an hour he lay unseen and unheard. If the sergeant had opened fire as Mariner had wished, nothing could have saved him. Fortunately his own people did not pull a trigger, and he was able to crawl back to his trench unharmed. He had been out all alone for an hour and a half.
Lance-Corporal Leonard James Keyworth, 24th Battalion, London Regiment (T.F.).