When, however, it began to dawn upon the parties engaged that the struggle, far from diminishing in intensity, was becoming increasingly bitter and severe, the advisability of, or perhaps rather the necessity for, easing the onus devolving upon the French railways was obvious to all. In the early part of 1915, therefore, rolling stock on a small scale was sent over from England; but in proportion as the numerical strength of the British overseas forces rose, so did the requirements in respect of means of transport increase, until towards the winter of 1916, a period synchronising with the British offensive on the Somme, matters reached such a pitch that the only solution to the difficulty seemed to lie in the appointment of a "mission" of home railway experts for the purpose of investigating the situation on the spot. With this end in view the more prominent of the two world-renowned "Geddes-Goddesses," to wit, Sir Eric, was nominated the responsible head, and as a result of his inquiry and subsequent report, there came into being the office of "Director-General of Transportation," the sound principle underlying this new departure being that of employing "individuals in war, on work which they have been accustomed to perform in peace," the immediate outcome, too, being that the important position was filled au début by none other than Sir Eric Geddes himself, who, as the Earl of Derby was at some pains to impress upon his noble confrères in the House of Lords (cp. the Times, November 30th, 1916), undertook the work only "from purely patriotic reasons."
In the issue dated September 6th, 1919, of that practical and very-much-up-to-date weekly journal, Modern Transport, is to be found tabulated in full and comprehensive form the "pedigree stock" emanating from the Director-General of Transportation; numerous personalities, bearing awe-inspiring affixes such as D.G.M.R., I.G.T., A.D.G.M.R., D.D.R.T., etc., ad lib.; appearing on the scenes as representing the direct lineal descent of the great D.G.T. himself. And subsidiary to these personalities, or heads of sections and sub-sections, was enrolled a galaxy of assistants, engineers furnished in part by the British railway companies on recommendation from the Railway Executive Committee, in part by colonial or foreign railways, and under whom, in turn, there served a numerous personnel, whose name was "legion," recruited mostly from the home railways.
And the reason for this gigantic scheme of organisation cannot be explained in any manner more convincing than in the words of Sir Douglas Haig, who, dealing in his final despatch with the "Rearward Services," insists that "the immense expansion of the Army from 6 to over 60 infantry divisions, combined with the constant multiplication of auxiliary arms, called inevitably for a large increase in the size and scope of the services concerned in the supply and maintenance of our fighting forces."
Some staggering statistics now stare us in the face. "By the end of November, 1918," for instance, we learn that "the number of individual landings in France at the various ports managed by us exceeded 10-1/4 million persons," and "during the eleven months, January to November, 1918, the tonnage landed at these ports averaged some 175,000 tons per week."
One can easily imagine the resultant effect upon these different ports situated on the northern coast of France. Let us take Boulogne, as being, perhaps, one of the most familiar of all, and any one who has chanced upon a little volume, bearing as its title "An Airman's Outings," cannot fail to recall the distinctly happy vein in which the author, writing under the nom-de-plume of "Contact," describes the inevitable change which came over the place during the war. "It (Boulogne)," so he tells us, "has become almost a new town. Formerly a head-quarters of pleasure, a fishing centre, and a principal port of call for Anglo-Continental travel, it has been transformed into an important military base.... The multitude of visitors from across the Channel is larger than ever; but instead of Paris, the Mediterranean, and the East, they are bound for less attractive destinations—the muddy battle area and Kingdom Come."
Small wonder, then, that the strain of supplying the means of transit, not only for these multitudes of visitors but for their personal impedimenta and food supplies as well, became too great for the French camel's back. The whole business, if such it may be termed, was assuming a degree of which the proportions were verging on the prodigious. Thus, "for the maintenance of a single division for one day, nearly 200 tons dead-weight of supplies and stores are needed," and "for an army of 2,700,000 men (the total feeding strength of our forces in France) the addition of one ounce to each man's daily rations involves the carrying of an extra 75 tons of goods."
Again, "in the six months May to October, 1918, a weekly average of 1,800 trains were run for British Army traffic, carrying a weekly average load of approximately 400,000 tons, while a further 130,000 tons were carried weekly by our light railways." Kolossal, indeed, with a capital K, are the figures which the Field-Marshal asks us to digest.
And in order to cope with this vast volume of traffic, in order that it might move freely and speedily to the various points of distribution on the British Front, "the number of locomotives imported ... rose from 62 in 1916 to 1200 by the end of 1918; while the number of trucks rose from 3,840 to 52,600," and in addition to the already-existing mileage of permanent way available in the rearward areas, during 1918 "were built or reconstructed 2,340 miles of narrow-gauge railway."
As was reasonably to be expected, "the introduction of new weapons and methods of war" accounted largely for the "huge bulk of the supplies to be handled," and another factor further responsible for the gigantic nature of the task imposed was to be found in "the establishment of a higher standard of comfort for the troops." The force of the logic in regard to "feeding the brute" may be said to apply equally to the soldier as to the husband; "Une bataille ne se perd matériellement," in fact, Napoleon is said to have expressed the view that "the moral is to the material in war as three to one." Consequently "great installations were set up," not merely for the repair of damaged material, but "installations of all kinds," embracing "hutments, camps, and hospitals," and "the Expeditionary Force canteens made it possible to obtain additional comforts close up to the Front."
Without any shadow of doubt "no war has been fought with such ample means of quick transportation as were available during the recent struggle.... It was possible to effect great concentrations of troops with a speed which, having regard to the numbers of men and bulk of material moved, has never before been equalled."