CHAPTER VII
THE BUTTE DE WARLENCOURT
October 1916
After being withdrawn from the battle, the Division was allowed a reasonable interval in which to heal its wounds. The last few days in the Somme area brought a much-appreciated rest. All Picardy glowed under a mellow sun, and in the glorious summer weather it was no hardship to sleep in bivouacs. The forenoons were given over to training and the replacement of kit; the “Q” Branches and the Ordnance Staffs were kept busy making good the losses in equipment and material. In the broad lagoons of the Somme near Bray were magnificent bathing-places, to which the men were taken every day, and here there was an element of danger, for the current was strong, and a swimmer usually emerged from the river about a hundred yards from the spot at which he had entered.
Small drafts began to arrive to fill up gaps; all battalions were very weak in officers, and a company that had more than two was decidedly well off. Fortunately most of the commanding officers had escaped. In the 26th Brigade there were several changes; Lieut.-Colonel Tweedie of the Argylls had been wounded, and, though he remained at duty for some time, he was obliged finally to enter hospital, and he was succeeded by Lieut.-Colonel Kennedy of the Seaforths on the 3rd August. Lieut.-Colonel R. Horn was appointed C.O. of the Seaforths, and Lieut.-Colonel H. R. Brown of the Camerons. In the 27th Brigade the command of the 12th Royal Scots passed to Lieut.-Colonel H. N. S. Fargus on the 23rd July. Most of the changes occurred in the South African Brigade. The 2nd South African Infantry had lost all its senior officers, and Major Heal of the 1st assumed command until he was relieved at the end of August 1916 by Lieut.-Colonel Christian from England. Major D. M. MacLeod of the South African Scottish was wounded on the 17th July, and his place was taken by Major D. R. Hunt. Lieut.-Colonel Thackeray had been wounded, but happily not seriously enough to cause his removal to hospital.
On the 23rd July the Division left the Somme district, and moved to the IX. Corps area, with D.H.Q. at Pont Remy. Most of this long journey was performed on foot under a broiling sun and over dusty roads, so that the march was extremely fatiguing. Two days later the Ninth was transferred to the IV. Corps[50] of the First Army,[51] and this move brought it into the centre of industrial France. For a few days units were concentrated in the large mining town of Bruay, where an enjoyable time was spent. The men had luxurious hot-spray baths at the mines, and changes of clothing; there were also numerous first-rate concerts and other entertainments, where leisure could be passed easily and agreeably. In a short time, however, units were sent out to country billets in the neighbourhood, where greater facilities for training were available. The 27th Brigade was particularly fortunate, for its area included a deep quarry full of water near Beugin, where all could indulge in bathing and swimming.
The Division, though no unit was yet up to strength, had almost recovered from its severe handling, when the 26th Brigade took over the trenches on the Vimy Ridge from the Thirty-seventh Division on the evening of the 12th August. Two nights later, the 27th Brigade occupied the line on the left of the 26th. D.H.Q. were established at Camblain L’Abbé, where they remained during the period the Ninth was at Vimy Ridge. The entire country in the divisional area was hilly and undulating, the most prominent feature being the Vimy Ridge, running north and south. It had been the scene of ghastly fighting in the early summer of 1915, and though the German lines lay along the crest of the ridge, our men gleaned some idea of the splendid fighting qualities that had carried their brave ally through the demolished villages of Carency and Souchez, and far up the western slopes. The best blood of France had watered the whole area, and it was with great reluctance that the French handed over the sector to the British. One of the communication trenches had been named after a famous regiment that had then played a proud and honourable part in the attack, and, when rumours were afloat that the Germans had retaken the ridge, some men of that regiment visited the area to ascertain the position. They were undeniably cheered and relieved to learn that the rumours were false, and that their British comrades kept a firm hold on all that had been entrusted to them.
The line taken over was divided into the Berthonval sector on the right, and the Carency sector on the left. In the former, the opposing trenches lay far apart—at no point being closer than 70 yards—except for saps; in the latter, those on the far left were almost touching each other, and a man could throw a bomb into the enemy’s trench without difficulty. The whole front was fringed with craters, which on the left were so numerous that they practically merged into one another. Where the line cut them were the most critical posts; here were the gates for an enterprising foe eager to secure prisoners. The trenches were not too salubrious, since many of the French dead had been buried in their walls or floor, and the usual work had to be done nightly and daily by infantry, sappers, and pioneers to make them substantial. In one part the sand-bags, full of rough pieces of chalk, had been thrown up in such haphazard fashion that the parapets appeared likely to collapse if a man sneezed. However, after a few weeks’ hard toil there was a marked improvement. From our position a magnificent view extended towards the north, and it was significant of the tendency of the British Army at this time to work in water-tight compartments, that the division on the left never sent observers to our lines, and yet from there the best observation could be had.
ABLAIN ST. NAZAIRE, NOTRE DAME AND VIMY RIDGE
Though all seemed to live on the edge of acute suspense because of the constant mining carried on by both sides, the stay at the Vimy was singularly uneventful. The approaches to the line were in very good order, and reliefs were carried out in daylight. A communication trench, cut right through the valley, emerged on the western slopes of the ridge out of sight of the enemy. Its official name was Cabaret Rouge, but “The Never-ending Road,” the title given to it by the men, was a better description, for it took one over two hours to traverse it from end to end. As there was practically no shelling of the communication trenches and back roads, the transport and carrying parties had a fairly easy and secure time.
Matters livened up in the sector after the Divisional Artillery[52] had registered, but the enemy appeared to be husbanding his ammunition, and contented himself with trench-mortar bombardments. He stuck to fixed periods. It was remarked that one could wander about peacefully in the sector during the day except between the hours of 2 and 4 P.M.—the time of the trench-mortar interlude. The type used was the “rum-jar”—a huge, unwieldy shell that was thrown high into the air—and a man was absolutely safe if he used his eyes and wits. Sentries with whistles kept a lookout, and when a mortar was on the way a whistle-blast gave warning. On such occasions it was easy to distinguish the newcomers from the old hands. On hearing the blast the latter placidly looked up, ascertained where the mortar was likely to land, and acted accordingly; but the former stampeded in a panic for any sort of shelter, content so long as it would cover their heads. After a few experiences, however, most men learned to trust to their eyes and their judgment; for no dug-out, unless it was exceptionally deep, was proof against a trench mortar. A shorter “strafe” took place in the evenings, between six and seven. The officers of one mess, compelled to have dinner in the open, owing to lack of accommodation, often had that meal interrupted, and it was not an uncommon sight to see them leave a course and rush for safety.