This forward move by the battalion was, I found, preliminary to taking over the front line trenches to the north and east of Bucquoy. And shortly before midnight we moved out through the darkness and took over these trenches.[18] The front line lay on the high ground beyond the village. The H.Q. which we took over were in a mined dugout to the west of the village. This dugout had been made by the Germans before the end of 1916, and it was small but very deep. It soon became unconscionably stuffy, as there was only one entrance. But it was better than being in the open.
Next day the enemy kept fairly quiet, but the village was shelled occasionally with heavy howitzers. I went out with two observers to the high ground west of Dierville Farm. But we saw no movement by the enemy's troops. Later on the enemy's guns became more active on the roads, and the road leading back to Essarts received salvoes all day. Orders came for our relief which was to start after dark. It was not until 10 P.M. that the companies in the front line were relieved and the H.Q. Company was free to move off. The journey to Fonquevillers, where we were going, was not without interference from the enemy. Hitherto I had had great luck in escaping being shelled on the roads at night, but to-night my luck was out. As we moved back along the road to Essarts—the doctor and I at the end of the column—a number of gas-shells were dropped on the windward side of the road. They were not thick enough to stop us, but they smelt very bad. As we approached the cross-roads east of Essarts a 5.9-inch shell fell close by the roadside. We had a shower of mud thrown over us by this shell, and three more came in quick succession, but not quite so unpleasantly close.
An incident also of a disagreeable kind occurred near the end of our journey. Between Gommecourt and Fonquevillers we had to halt, until the trenches allotted to us had been located. At this point the road was packed with troops returning from the line; and some battalions brought their cookers here, so that the road was crammed almost tight with men and transport. For a long time nothing happened, but eventually a German field battery fired several rapid salvoes of shells enfilading the road. Fortunately the greater number fell slightly wide of the road, but a few men in one of the Manchester battalions were hit. It was however a lucky escape. After this the road cleared quickly and we moved on into Fonquevillers. This village had been badly knocked about in the early days of the war, and few houses were in anything but ruins.
But there were still many cellars intact, and also a number of tin huts built for the French refugees in 1917. Officers of Battalion H.Q. were billeted in a cellar, and this was improved by mattresses, tables, and chairs brought in from the huts outside. Here in spite of intermittent shelling we got a much needed rest. But Fonquevillers was no place for a permanent rest cure. The village was shelled on and off all day, and several of our men were hit. I assisted the Adjutant, Capt. S.P. Brook-Booth, M.C., to collect a supply of early vegetables from the little gardens; and the officers in our reserve camp at Souastre thoughtfully sent up a couple of cooked chickens and a few other luxuries, so that evening we had something in the nature of a feast. Next morning, March 31, Lieut. Johnston, temporarily in command of A Company got a shell splinter through his hand and had to be sent back. I was then put in command of A Company and left Battalion H.Q., so that for some days the observers were not under my charge. About this time L.-C. Flynn, one of the observers, was seriously wounded by a shell, and we learnt later on that he died of his wounds. It was an unlucky affair, for he was one of the best observers. But I had no further casualties for a long time. I found A Company quartered in a line of old trenches between Gommecourt Wood and Fonquevillers. I believe they were part of the old British front line before the Somme battle started. Accommodation was very limited, and I found the other officers of A Company,[19] four in number, with their batmen and cook all crowded together in a small shelter. It was as may be imagined uncomfortably hot at times, especially during the night, part of which I spent in the trench outside. We only got a few shells from the enemy here, his attention was directed more to the village behind us and Gommecourt Wood in front.
On April 1 we got orders to proceed after dark to the front line trenches at Bucquoy—A Company was to hold those on the left, with B Company to their right. We were also given a route, but in the darkness it was difficult to find and it led to a curious incident on our journey forward. We assembled the company on the road outside Gommecourt and made towards the village as fast as the crowded state of the road would allow. Happily we were not shelled here, but there were signs on the road that others had not been so fortunate. When we reached Gommecourt, a mere ruin now of broken trees and buildings, we were clear of the press of transport and troops. We turned south-east hoping to strike a tramway running towards Biez Wood. Nothing, however, could we see of the tramway, and we could only push on, hoping to find it. After going on awhile we certainly seemed to be reaching a rather queer place, for we saw our men setting out wire, and a rather scared little man appeared out of the darkness and told us that 'Jerry was over there,' pointing down the road. We did not stop for this, but when a German Verey light shot up almost under our noses, we decided that we had indeed come too far and that it was time to turn back. This we did without waste of time and retraced our steps to Gommecourt. I was expecting any minute to hear a machine-gun open on us down the road. But if 'Jerry' was there in any force he had decided to keep quiet, and we got safely back to Gommecourt. After this experience we took a way that we knew, although it was not the one laid down for us. And after a long march in the dark we struck the Essarts-Bucquoy Road, and found our guides awaiting us on the road near Bucquoy. Whilst this relief was going on our field batteries kept up a hot fire on the enemy's front, but he made no reply.
The guides took us by a winding route through the north end of Bucquoy to the trenches, which consisted of an old German drain, very straight and about six feet deep. It ran parallel to the east side of the village and about 200 yards from its outskirts. The Company H.Q. lay a little way behind the front line and consisted of a short narrow slit in the ground, roofed over with tin—one of the smallest shelters I have ever been in. It was possible to sit down, but not to lie down, and the floor was inches deep in cold mud. Here I found two very disconsolate officers awaiting relief. They seemed to be nearly perished with the cold and wet, and quite worn out by their cheerless sojourn in the trenches. The trench lay on the slope of a slight hill, the crest being about 200 yards away. The enemy were not close, their position was out of sight and unknown. But to the left Logeast Wood was clearly visible, and the enemy were known to be there. Our trench ended abruptly on the left, and the nearest British troops on this flank were some way off and more to the east, so that there was a considerable gap in the line here. On the right of course we were in touch with B Company, who were commanded by Lieut. Affleck, M.C., a veteran of the Houthulst Forest battle, and one of our most redoubtable warriors in the 7th N.F. I knew that I need not worry about my right flank! No smoke from fires could be allowed in the trenches, and cooking had to be done over small fires of fine wood splinters. When morning came it was possible to have a better look round. All the reserve ammunition, about 5000 rounds, had been pulled out of the boxes, and the bandoliers were mostly buried in the mud. It was a great business clearing the trench of mud and salvaging and cleaning the ammunition. The enemy did not know where we were. All morning three of his aeroplanes, flying low, hovered about our little trench, occasionally firing bursts at us with their machine-guns. We only replied with an occasional shot, and of course they could not tell where that came from. At any rate the German guns let the trench alone and poured a stream of heavy shells all day and night into the village behind us and into the hedges at the east end. The fact appeared quite clearly later on that the enemy could not locate our front line. A messenger dog, belonging to the enemy, was captured at this time near Bucquoy, bearing a message in German as follows: 'The affair of Bucquoy is off for the present, as we don't know where Tommy is.' It was well indeed for our two companies that the drain trench was not suspected by the enemy. There were no traverses in it from one end to the other, and a very few well-aimed shells would have blown us to pieces.
That night (April 2) the British forces made a counter-attack at Ayette and drove the enemy as far back as the old hangars at Moyenneville. Seen from the trenches at Bucquoy it was a fine sight. The enemy put up all kinds of coloured lights, including silhouette lights and 'flaming onions' both orange and mauve.
Meanwhile we of the 7th N.F. undertook a small venture against certain parties of the enemy that had been seen and sniped at from B Company's trench. These parties were busy digging trenches about 400 yards away to our front. Soon after dark 2nd-Lieuts. J. Dodds and J.H. Edmunds took out a raiding party of over twenty men in order to secure a prisoner if possible. As it turned out this was done quickly enough and without firing a shot.
For on the party creeping forward to the wire belt at the top of the hill, a German N.C.O. walked towards them, was surprised by 2nd-Lieut. Dodds, and surrendered without a struggle. He was already slightly wounded, and had come forward perhaps to have a look at the wire. He was brought back at once to the trench, and it fell to me to examine the man and to remove all papers from him except his pay-book and identity disc. I went out and examined him in a mixture of such broken French and German as I could summon at so short a notice. I also went through his papers with the aid of lighted matches. After this he was sent down under escort to Battalion H.Q., and thence to D.H.Q.
It proved to be a useful capture, for it showed that a fresh German division had arrived opposite our front. Later on 2nd-Lieut. Dodds was awarded the Military Cross for the capture. Early next morning (April 3) the Division sent orders that I should return with the Divisional observers to the rear. So I left the trench in charge of 2nd-Lieut. N. Holt and went back with my servant through Bucquoy, taking care to avoid certain large shells which were falling every now and then about the village. Calling at Battalion H.Q. I found that the observers were now in some trenches about half a mile farther back in the direction of Essarts. I soon found them, however, and whilst waiting for them to get ready I was hospitably supplied with some whisky and soda by the officers of one of the Lancashire Regiments.