Fighting the Boche Underground

by H. D. Trounce

Some of the dugouts were pretty bad too; we were not inclined to be too particular, but on occasions when it was just a little too strong we would organize search-parties to discover and remove the usual source of the trouble.

Enemy aeroplanes were very active in this sector, and the Boche fliers evidently had sharp eyes when it came to detecting new dugout or mine construction. It was necessary to camouflage all our spoil very carefully, otherwise we could always rely on these spots being shelled or trench-mortared quickly. There was much flying on moonlight nights. Searchlights back of our lines would pick out the enemy planes, and the "archies" at once get very busy. Usually we did not pay much attention to enemy planes, but they had a way of intruding themselves at times which was decidedly disagreeable. They would sometimes rudely interrupt our games of cards in the mess back at our billets. One night they dropped five bombs in quick succession which landed within twenty yards of our Nissen hut, the usual corrugated-iron structure. It was not often that we could afford the time and material for dugouts at our back camps, and as a result the shelling and aeroplane bombing generally was watched with much interest. The flying men at the front are not "fair-weather" aviators. They go up under almost all conditions of weather. Some wonderful flying is seen. All the loops, etc., seem of small account in comparison with the daring nose dives, side slips, and falls of both British and enemy planes. Most men get the flying fever. I applied for transfer to the flying corps in May, 1916, and was passed by the examining officer in the field, but fortunately, perhaps, for myself, my application was turned down by the corps, engineer officers being somewhat scarce at the time.

Souvenirs of German bombs, trench mortars, etc., were much in demand, and some of us were foolish enough to take the detonators and charges out of "dud" T.M.'s, etc. I did this on several occasions, but not without taking every precaution possible to insure against accidents. "Dud" shells are those which have for some reason not exploded because of defective fuse or some mistake in firing. I brought back with me several duds which happened to fall near me and did not explode. Some of the infantry seemed to think that it was a favorite pastime of the engineers to extract the detonators from these duds, and we would often take them out for them, but were at last obliged in self-defense to abandon such a dangerous vocation. I would not handle a dud shell now for a million dollars.

The difficulties of obtaining baths in these trenches at that time were many. The poor infantry would be occupying the front and reserve trenches for a month or six weeks at a time, and it was impossible for them to obtain a bath during this whole time. This hurt more than anything else. We were a little more fortunate in the engineers, and could average a kind of bath about once a week when lucky. Our efforts to get a decent bath with about a half-pint of water were most amusing. Water was very scarce. The rats and beetles in the trenches were large and active and did not add to our pleasure. At night the rats come into their own, and when times were quiet we would pull off some interesting rat hunts and incidentally get some good revolver practice.

Our dugouts in the Vimy Ridge were fairly safe, and after we had been below for a short time, and especially when there was a heavy trench-mortar "strafe" directed in the trenches above, it was not much fun coming out of them. Your heart would be in your mouth as you came up the steps and emerged into the blackness of the trench above. After a few minutes in the trench, however, one would get used to it.

We fell heir to a number of French shafts and galleries which had been driven in for a short distance; some of these we proceeded to continue, and others to abandon. Nearly all the German galleries and tunnels were in the chalk at depths varying from 80 to 150 feet below the surface. There was a top-soil of sandy clay averaging in thickness from 1 to 30 feet, covering this hard chalk. In military mining in chalk and clay it is important to remember that the work by extreme care can be conducted practically noiselessly in clay, but it is almost impossible to work without noise in chalk, especially in the chalk of this district, which contained so many flints. We used the usual rough hand methods in tunnelling here; namely, the pick and shovel. The ring of the pick in striking a piece of flint could be heard by the ear for a distance of 80 feet, and with the listening-instruments we used to hear a pick up to about 200 feet.

Our best defensive plan here was to start in with a strong offensive, so we proceeded to put in a number of tunnels in the sandy clay top-soil. This we did on account of the fact that we could work in the clay at about double the speed of that in chalk and, in addition, work noiselessly. It was a risky game on account of the fact that the Huns were nearly always below us in their chalk galleries, and if they heard our work could quite easily fire their mines and rid themselves of the hated British.

This district around Neuville-St.-Vaast and La Targette has witnessed some very hard fighting, and even the last terrific battle of the Vimy Ridge was neither the first nor the worst of the battles on this sector. Some six months before my company reached the scene, in September, 1915, the French and Germans had met in some terrible struggles. Nothing was left of the villages of Neuville-St.-Vaast and La Targette but a heap of crumbling bricks here and there. The casualties were ghastly. The total casualties for the attacks in this region were estimated at about 150,000. The French had succeeded in capturing the German lines—but at a terrible cost. The trenches were so numerous and mazelike that the district is named "The Labyrinth." It was certainly a puzzle to get in and out. We would enter the communication-trenches at a point near the crossroads at Aux-Rietz, where our billets were situated on the main Arras-Souchez road, and walk up the communicating-trenches as hard as we could go for three-quarters of an hour before we reached the front line. The trenches retained the names left them by the French: Boyau Zivy, Boyau Bentata, etc. It took us several days to get our bearings here. It is seldom a pleasant business taking over new trenches. Just about the time you get hopelessly lost, Fritz thinks it's the correct time to start a bad trench-mortar strafe, and your efforts to find any sort of cover always prove unavailing—no dugouts or shelters are to be seen for miles around.

The French officers whom we met were of the typical polite and considerate order, and very hospitable. Instead of the usual British "whiskey and soda," we would be invited to a drink of real "eau de vie," or French brandy, when we visited them in their shelters and dugouts. Another man and I were entertained the second day after our arrival by the French engineers at luncheon at their mess at Marouille. Seven courses were served to us, with suitable wines. The supply of crockery was limited, and we had to use our own jack-knives, but these trifles did not interfere with my appreciation of the best meal I had had since leaving California. We afterward found out that their cook had formerly been the head chef of the well-known Holborn Restaurant in London.

I took in the first shift to work on our new mines. On our way up I met Colonel A., the controller of mines for the Third Army coming out. He gave me the disquieting information, just received from the French, that I might expect Mine No. 806 to go up that night. "Seven o'clock is the Hun's favorite time for firing," was his last remark. It was then about six-thirty, and as we were forced to pass this mine in order to place our men near by, we thought we would hurry along. As a matter of fact, Fritz did not blow this mine until some two months later, though his gallery was not more than ten to fifteen feet away from ours all this time. We did our best to make the Germans fire by rigging up a dummy pick and operating it regularly and using other devices. The enemy would often keep us on the anxious seat with tunnels like this.