The drainage was of first importance. With the exception of the main metalled or pavé roads, which invariably have ditches running along each side, the majority had no culverts of any description. It was very necessary for us to construct narrow drainage ditches along the sides and run these off into deep sumps dug in the adjoining fields from ten to twenty feet on either side of the road. This is practically the same method that we adopted in draining most of the communication-trenches. In the advance and the half-open warfare then proceeding, the infantry and gunners would carve little "funk-holes" or shelters under or into the banks of the roads, or use their waterproof sheets to cover the little huts they built with low walls of sand-bags filled with dirt.
On account of the Germans having destroyed practically all of their dugouts and shelters, there was little protection for us from their constant and heavy bombardment. Our only resource was to jump into the trenches which lined almost every road. As a matter of fact, trenches are fairly good protection and we were always glad to use them.
In addition to our rebuilding the highways we were engaged in making a reconnaissance of all the captured district in this area, and perfecting plans for the thorough salvaging of all enemy material left behind. The amount and value of this was very great and included rails, timber, iron, ammunition, explosives, and many other useful things. A light railway was constructed for several miles in the old No Man's Land and millions of dollars' worth of material recovered, even including the iron knife-rests for supporting barbed wire.
We used very large quantities of the old German dugout timber in constructing new dugouts in our recently captured positions.
It was common practice by this time to start the construction of new deep-mined dugouts if the trenches were occupied a week only. In the past the British were always optimistic about capturing the other fellows' trenches before long and had contented themselves with very frail, easily built shelters. As a natural result the casualties had been enormous.
It was not surprising to us that the morale of the German troops should be so inferior to ours. The fact that they practically lived underground most of the time, and even when on duty in the trenches above usually occupied one of their heavily reinforced concrete or thick steel-plated "pill-boxes," readily explained their rooted objection to facing the music on top. When our sentries were on duty they had practically no protection except, perhaps, the very occasional use of a sort of steel breastplate and always a sharp pair of eyes.
The German emplacements or strong points, often referred to as "pill-boxes," were built in the most solid manner. The reinforcing of the concrete was usually accomplished with the use of round steel bars, rails, and I-beams placed at very close intervals in a rich mixture of concrete, while the foundations were deep and also well constructed.
Many of the steel-plate emplacements were used. These were usually constructed of steel plates two or more inches thick, bolted together and embedded in a concrete foundation. As in the case of the concrete strong points, they would nearly always withstand direct hits from shells of average caliber. We found many "pill-boxes," with three-inch shells sticking out of the steel reinforcing rods.
We were camped under canvas for several weeks at the village of Boyelles, about two miles back. Within a hundred yards of us was placed a large ammunition-dump, including many gas-shells. No cover for them could be obtained, so the shells were merely placed on the ground and covered with tarpaulins. Every night we were strafed hard at this camp, but, luckily, the dump was not hit. One night, we were quietly playing cards in our camp when a Taube dropped five bombs in quick succession within twenty yards of our tents, killing four horses and two men. This bomb-dropping was then, as now, a common occurrence behind the lines.
The work of the ambulance men and drivers during these days was splendid. On May 3 another man and I were watching with our glasses from an assembly-trench very near the shelling of an aid-post with Boche eight-inch shells. This post was in a dugout off the side of the road and the Huns were placing nearly every one of these heavy shells squarely on top of it or on the middle of the road. During the thick of this terrific bombardment we saw several Ford ambulance drivers bring their cars up, load their cases, and drive calmly away again.