THE SOMME[7]
The battle on the Somme was to me the great tragedy of the war. A glorious noble tragedy, but still a tragedy. Both sides of course have claimed the victory, the British a tactical one, the Germans a strategic one. The net result to the Allies from a material point of view was the recapture of some hundreds of square miles of France, for the most part battered to bits and as desolate and useless as a wilderness; and the capture or destruction of so many thousands of the enemy at a cost altogether out of proportion to their numbers. The Germans claim, and claim quite rightly, that they frustrated our attempt to break through their line. On the other hand it can be little consolation for them to know that a nation of amateur soldiers[8] drove them out of the strongest fortress in the world; drove them out so completely that they were glad to take refuge, morally as well as physically, behind their famous Hindenburg Line.
No doubt our grand attack lasting from July to November 1916 cemented the Alliance with France and saved Verdun from falling. No doubt it paved the way, in knowledge and morale, for further attacks at a later date. The fact remains that before its lessons were learnt the slopes of the Ancre and the Somme were sown with the bodies of thousands of the finest specimens of the British race. What a cost was paid for the example and the lesson! Never again during the war had Britain such fine athletic men, such gallant and heroic sons to fight her battles. No horror or hardship could subdue their spirit. Again and again, through shattered ranks and over ground covered with the fallen, they went forward to the supreme sacrifice as cheerfully and as light-heartedly as if they were out for a holiday. They knew they could beat the enemy in front of them, and they went on and did it again and again, in spite of the wire, in spite of the mud, in spite of thousands of machine-gun bullets and shells. The tragedy of it all is written in one word. Waste—waste of lives, waste of effort, waste of ammunition. The fact is now clear that in 1916 the resources of the British Nation were not sufficiently developed to smash the German war machine. That was undoubtedly the hope of every one who took part in the battle, to deliver a final knock-out blow. But this hope failed, even if it failed by a little. Our artillery, mighty as it undoubtedly was, was not mighty enough yet to destroy the enemy's defences and to shatter his power of resistance. Alas, it was a blow that could never be repeated again with such magnificent human resources!
After the supreme effort by all ranks a terrible wave of depression naturally followed. And can this be wondered at? For a time there was lack of confidence which made itself all too apparent in 1917, a year of unparalleled disasters. No one who has not set out with such high hopes can know how awful that depression can be.
The effort of the British Army was never so united, never so intense as it was in the battle on the Somme. Later on reverses brought knowledge and knowledge at last brought victory. But for some that victory had its sad side too; for thousands upon thousands of those gay and gallant comrades in the Great Endeavour were not there to share it.[9]
The part of the 50th Division in the battle was not a small one. Briefly the Division went into the Somme area on August 17, 1916, and left it about March 10, 1917. Their first attack was launched on September 15, 1916, in company with the Guards and some of the finest divisions in the British Army. After almost continuous fighting they were withdrawn about October 5, and went back to the rest area around Hénencourt till October 21—after having advanced their line from High Wood Ridge to the edge of Le Sars.
On October 25 they returned to the same front and made two gallant but fruitless attacks on the Butte of Warlencourt, in support of larger operations about Beaumont Hamel. The hardship of the fighting between October 25 and November 16 cannot be realised by those who did not actually experience the conditions. From December 28 to January 23 the Division held the line south of Le Barque and Ligny-Thilloy. After that they moved farther south and held the line in front of Belloy and Estrées, trenches that had been captured by the French. No wonder, after this hard work, that the 50th Division gained the reputation of a hard fighting division.
I can give no very accurate idea of the casualties suffered by the Division; but some idea of the losses may be drawn from the casualties among the bombers of the 7th N.F. Of these I have fairly accurate details. The bombers of the 7th N.F. went into action on September 15, 1916, about eighty strong—ten N.C.O.s and seventy men. When the roll was called at Bresle on November 20, 1916, eleven men alone answered. Of the N.C.O.'s two were wounded and the rest were killed. The bombers of the 4th N.F. suffered almost as heavily, but I have now no details.