There was this difference between the second and the first. In the battle of 1917, the break-through on the Cambrai front did not close with a permanent advance. Owing partly, as we now know, to the diversion of some Divisions to Italy, the brilliant design, so courageously supported, could not be completely carried out. This time, there was no going back. It was the Hindenburg Line which was to be captured, on the road from the River Marne to the River Meuse.

The Hindenburg Line, so called by our Troops, was neither Hindenburg nor a Line. As described and pictured by great generals,[132] it consisted of a series of defences, including many defended villages, and forming a belt, or fortified area, varying in depth from seven to ten thousand yards. It stretched from Lille to Metz, and among its extensions, or switches, was the famous ‘Drocourt-Quéant Switch,’ which had held up our advance more than once. Within this system of barriers, running through a stratum of deep cuttings, the enemy had prepared elaborate dug-outs, shelters, and gun-emplacements, all heavily fortified and wired. The luxurious appointments of some of them, which so much astonished beholders, need not detain us here. The importance of these extraordinary entrenchments to their assailants in the autumn of 1918 lay, first, in their genuine strength, to which German engineers had devoted all the ingenuity of their craft, and, next, in the almost legendary awe with which time and sentiment had invested them. This effect was carried out in their native names. Working from north-west to south-east, they were known in the German Army and behind it as Wotan, Siegfried (supported by Herrmann), Hundung (Hagen), Brunehilde (Freya), Kriemhilde and Michel; and we may well believe that, at the back of the front, until such time as the front broke, German opinion was obstinately convinced that their tutelary heroes must protect the Fatherland from invasion.

It was the task of the 62nd Division to break into this line through Havrincourt, and, by breaking it, to shatter the illusion. For, at last, on the Western front, we were fighting not only positions but ideas.

The operation (September 12th to 15th) proved a complete success. It was carried out on the left by the 187th, and on the right by the 186th Infantry Brigade, with the 9th Durham Light Infantry (Pioneers) attached to the latter as an assault Battalion. One company of the 62nd Machine-Gun Battalion was allotted to each attacking Brigade, and eight Brigades of Field Artillery and three Groups Heavy Artillery were in position to support. The plan of attack entailed a change of direction from north to east, in order to obviate the difficulties of the terrain, and the consequent complication of the Artillery barrage had to be very carefully worked out. In contrast to the attacks in November, no Tanks were employed in this action, but it bore in another respect a superficial resemblance to the First Battle of Havrincourt, insomuch as the first day’s work ‘could not have been bettered, but again there was to be a second chapter, a chapter of hard fighting, in very difficult circumstances, fought to the end, and crowned with success.’ We shall not follow it in detail, save to note that, an hour after Zero (5-30 a.m.) on September 12th, ‘large batches of prisoners were coming back,’ and that four Officers and eighty men of these had been captured at a strong point which ‘offered little resistance, owing to the great gallantry of Sergt. Laurence Calvert,[133] of the 5th King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry.’ His great gallantry won the Victoria Cross, in circumstances officially described as follows:

‘For most conspicuous bravery and devotion to duty in attack, when the success of the operation was rendered doubtful owing to severe enfilade machine-gun fire. Alone and single-handed, Sergt. Calvert, rushing forward against the machine-gun team, bayoneted three and shot four. His valour and determination in capturing single-handed two machine-guns and killing the crews therefore enabled the ultimate object to be won. His personal gallantry inspired all ranks.’

All ranks were inspired to good purpose; or, more precisely, the inspiration of all ranks found its typical expression in the brave act of this gallant N.C.O. The Division’s team-work, now as always, was exemplary; and, whether judged by casualties or captures,[134] the result of the Second Battle of Havrincourt was a great triumph for General Whigham in his new Command.

For Havrincourt looked to the east. It looked through the intricate defences, in which the German people still believed, to Cambrai and St. Quentin, and beyond. Thus it formed one of those ‘formidable positions,’ which, as Sir Douglas Haig wrote, ‘had to be taken before a final attack on the Hindenburg Line could be undertaken.’ By its capture, and that of others, ‘our line advanced to within assaulting distance of the enemy’s main line of resistance.’[135] And General Whigham, in a letter of October 9th, addressed to the Secretary of the Association at York, said, in almost identic terms: ‘On September 12th, the Division was called upon to repeat its former feat of capturing the village of Havrincourt. This village stands on very commanding ground, and formed a most formidable position in the Hindenburg front line. Its capture was essential to the development of the great offensive south of Cambrai, in which we have latterly been engaged.... Without the possession of Havrincourt, the grand attack of September 27th could not have been successfully launched.’

So, we come to that ‘grand attack,’ in which, as the General went on to say, ‘the Division has once more added fresh lustre to its fame.’ On this occasion they were engaged to the south of the scenes of their exploit in November. Graincourt now fell to the 63rd Division, Anneux to the 57th, Bourlon and Bourlon Wood to the 4th and 3rd Canadian Divisions. The 3rd Division moved forward with the Guards, forcing the crossings of the Canal, by capturing Ribécourt and Flesquières (the objective of the 51st in the previous November). To the 62nd was allotted the task of following up the attack, and of securing the crossings of the Canal at Marcoing. Once more, we have the high privilege of illustrating the nature of the operations by a single typical example of the spirit which animated all ranks. The London Gazette of December 14th, 1918, announced the award of the Victoria Cross to Private Henry Tandey, D.C.M., M.M., of the 5th Duke of Wellington’s, in the following circumstances:

‘For most conspicuous bravery and initiative during the capture of the village and the crossings at Marcoing, and the subsequent counter-attack on September 28th, 1918.