Hunting the Hun

by James Belton; E. G. Odell

In order to reach our front line trenches we had to go through an ingoing communication trench which ran partly on the outskirts of the Cité St. Pierre and through the centre of the Cité St. Edouard. We had already made a tour in the sector of the line from which we were to go "over the top." As a result of constant artillery activities on both sides we had many casualties. A great number of guns were in the Cité St. Pierre and as far up as the Cité St. Edouard. Both forces strafed incessantly.

On the morn of the 14th of August we were told that the attack was to take place on the morn of the 15th. "Zero Hour" was set for 4.20 A.M. Everyone got busy getting things ready to move. All surplus kits were returned to the quartermaster's stores. In the afternoon church service was held and an excellent sermon was preached by our battalion padre. Two hymns were sung during the service, "Onward, Christian Soldiers" and "Nearer, My God, to Thee." Everyone's taking communion closed the service.

No. 1 sections of all platoons participating in the attack were supplied with special wire cutters, which were an attachment to the rifles. That evening about seven o'clock all companies fell in on their respective parade grounds, where a thorough inspection was made by the officers. One platoon per company remained out of the line as usual. Each company commander took charge of his respective company, the seconds in command remaining out.

The Colonel gave us a little talk and said that we would be going into the attack and that our work would partly consist of village fighting. Everyone was expected to live up to the good reputation our battalion had made. He then shook hands with each officer, all officers in turn shaking hands with each other. One of my friends, when I shook hands with him, told me he was going in for the last time. He really did not expect to come out alive. I rather pooh-poohed the matter at the time and it made me feel badly for him and rather nervous. Unfortunately his presentiment came true.

As the Huns were constantly shelling our back area, we marched off the parade ground in sections at distances of 100 yards. When we arrived at the Cité St. Pierre, which had previously been captured by us, and as we passed through this Cité, where our Brigade Headquarters were established in what had been a former deep German dugout, we were told by one of the officers of Brigade Headquarters that the "Zero Hour" would be 4.20 A.M. and that we were to go "over the top" at that time.

As we followed the ingoing communicating trench, part of which ran through the middle of the street, there were houses on both sides. These the German artillery was constantly playing on, so bricks and mortar flew in all directions. The few houses that had been left standing were demolished as if they had been made of cardboard. You can well imagine that when a shell hit anywhere near a house it made things very unpleasant for those of us passing through these trenches.

The platoon officer, who had preceded me, had evidently got out of the communicating trench to see how his men were coming up from the rear. When I passed him he was lying on the sidewalk. I did not think at that time he was dangerously wounded as he waved his hand to me. I could not stop to give him any attention for, although he was my best friend, my duty was imperative and I had to lead my men onwards. I therefore shouted for the stretcher bearer from his platoon and gave the necessary instructions for his care. I regretted very much to hear that he passed away in a few hours after receiving his wound.

By the time we reached the firing line, which was directly in front of the Cité St. Edouard (also a suburb of Lens), I had eight casualties. Three men had been killed, and five wounded. The wounded had been given every attention and sent back to the rear. The leading platoon was now in charge of the platoon sergeant, a very capable man who had taken charge of the platoon whilst in practice for this attack. All the other N.C.O.'s had also been trained to do this, so that in case any platoon officer became a casualty they would be able to carry on.

As we arrived at the firing line the holding troops were "standing to" on the fire step. We could thus pass along in their rear. Guides were assigned to each platoon to show us the openings that had been made in our barbed wire so that we could then get into No Man's Land without being obliged to cut the wire. During this time the Huns were incessantly sending up their star shells and other coloured rockets.

I gave the necessary instructions to N.C.O.'s in charge of sections, and then we crawled out through the barbed wire and got into shell holes. The Huns at this time were firing "whizz bangs" and Minenwerfers at our front line, these being short ranged shells. As the German star shells illuminated the ground, I noticed that the barbed wire had not been altogether destroyed by our artillery. This was probably due to the fact of the close proximity of the two opposing lines, which prevented our artillery from concentrating its fire as they would have done if we had been further apart. It was for this reason that the No. 1 section of each platoon had been supplied with special rifle wire cutters.