The history of the 9th (Scottish) Division, 1914-1919

by M.C. John Ewing

Major-General Sir HENRY TIMSON LUKIN, K.C.B., C.M.G., D.S.O.

On the 5th December the Division took over the line north and east of Arras. During the last week of November the battalions at dusk marched along the long, straight pavé road from St Pol and entered the city through the majestic pylons of the Baudimont Gate. Arras had been damaged during the German onslaught of 1914, but since that time had been scarcely molested. This quaint old Spanish city, well known to artists and antiquarians, presented a harmonious blending of the mediæval and the modern. The eye was constantly surprised by new aspects that offered themselves on a ramble through the streets—the old, narrow, nubbly lanes, overlooked by ancient Hispano-Flemish houses, opening out into spacious and ordered boulevards with modern and opulent mansions, the commercial commodiousness of the Petite Place and the Grande Place, and the ramparts of Vauban. The natural centre was the two squares, Petite Place and Grande Place, both now bordered by the ruins of stately gabled houses and so often intermittently shelled that they were avoided by all except sightseers and souvenir hunters. Near them, massive ruins suggested a nobility and dignity of structure that the intact cathedral had never possessed. But the greatest example of German vandalism was the mound of masonry and dust that marked the site of the Hôtel de Ville, justly celebrated as a notable example of Spanish architectural art. Arras, skirted on the north by the River Scarpe, lay in a gentle hollow, overlooked on the west by a semicircle of low hills, and on the east by a ridge, which, farther north, passed into the Vimy Ridge. From the station the railway ran east to Douai, a branch swinging north to Lens, while towards the south it ran into Albert. The Arras-Lens railway and the eastern ridge were held by the enemy, whose guns commanded the greater part of the Albert-Arras line.

At the end of 1916 Arras seemed a city of the dead. On the long main roads the rumble of wheels and the clatter of hoofs were seldom heard, and the streets were deserted except for a few soldiers and some civilians who skulked along under the eaves of the houses. Few parts of the town were without the scars of war. In many houses the jumbled and disarranged furniture told a story of panic and hurried departure; in some cases the outside wall had been broken by a shell, revealing the inside of a house intact, like the model of a doll’s house. Here and there enterprising civilians ran excellent cafés, where the men could supplement their rations at prices that were not exorbitant. Near the station the Hôtel de Commers was the favourite rendezvous for officers.

The trenches taken over by the Division lay on the western slopes of the eastern ridge and extended from the south of the Scarpe as far north as Roclincourt. The area was divided into three sectors, “I,” “J,” and “K,” from south to north, and all three brigades were in the line, the 26th in “I,” the South African in “J,” and the 27th in “K.” This position, with certain changes, was held by the Division until the 9th April 1917, and the long spell enabled the men to make the trenches as perfect as they could be made. During this time the strictest discipline was maintained and the morning round of the battalion C.O. brought reproof or commendation according as each company did its duty. By 9 A.M. every man had to be washed and shaved, the rifles clean and polished, and the trenches neat and tidy. There was tremendous competition between the various companies in the desire of each to better its neighbour in the provision of comforts for the men; hot soup and cocoa were served late at night and early in the morning to those in the front trenches, but perhaps the last stage of luxury was reached when hot water was supplied for shaving.

Behind the lines the duties of the transport, located near D.H.Q. at Duisans, were neither rough nor unduly perilous. The busiest centre of activity was the Divisional Tactical School, near Givenchy, under the direction of Lieut.-Colonel Croft.[66] The cult of the rifle was assiduously inculcated, and officers and N.C.Os. were divided into sections, which competed with one another in all forms of warlike sport. A great effort was made to banish the deadening effects of trench warfare, and initiative and resource were stimulated by means of tactical schemes. Each course was wound up with a great display, in which the whole school carried out an attack, and the showers of Véry lights (representing the barrage), the rattle of the rifles and machine-guns, the line of flares, and a contact aeroplane gave a very fair impression of a real fight.

Training, however, was not confined to the school or the back areas. Though Arras itself was overlooked by the enemy, there was a wide stretch of dead ground between the city and the eastern ridge, where there were excellent facilities for training. Near Roclincourt a long bank provided a natural butt for Lewis Gun practice from any range up to 300 yards, and the valley offered ample scope for rifle-grenade instruction. More could and should have been done; but, since the days of 1914 when everyone that could be spared was needed to man the trenches, it had been customary to regard trench warfare and training as incompatible. Thus training as a rule had been confined to such periods as the men spent out of the line. As a matter of fact, battalions had often better chances of useful practice when in the line than when in back areas, and in 1917 the more satisfactory system of carrying on training at all times was begun. The vast importance of constant training as a primary factor of efficiency had been long neglected in France, but when the start was made development was continuous. Though belated, the issue of pamphlets which dealt with the action of the platoon (S.S. 143) and of the Division (S.S. 135) in attack, was none the less welcome. Hitherto, officers and N.C.Os. had been guided only by the general principles stated in Field Service Regulations, but the pamphlets provided illustrations showing the application of these principles to actual problems. The more junior the commander, the more desirable it was to make things clear to him by concrete cases, and in this respect S.S. 143 was invaluable. The adoption of these pamphlets ensured both a uniformity in training and organisation throughout the army and a practical knowledge of the methods of dealing with the problems of actual warfare.

During the winter, which was the driest one since the war began, the health of the men remained good. Every precaution was taken to prevent trench feet; each battalion in the line arranged for frequent supplies of clean socks, and each man’s feet were rubbed daily by the stretcher-bearers with whale-oil under the supervision of an officer. In January and February 1917 a hard frost set in, the most severe since 1839, and during this period men in the line were more comfortable than those in Arras. There was a great scarcity of fuel, and the strong temptation of men in windowless and draughty billets to loot wood and furniture from empty houses had to be sternly repressed. With the thaw came mud and hard work, but the trenches had been thoroughly revetted and any damage was quickly repaired.

In November 1916 the sector was reputed to be one of the quietest on the whole British front. “Even more peaceful than the Vimy” was the remark of men who had gone forward with working-parties, and the experiences of the first two or three days appeared to confirm the statement. The trenches had been previously held by the Thirty-fifth, a Bantam division, and were too shallow for people of ordinary stature. If the enemy had been vindictive, he could not have failed to snipe a number of our men, but happily he was not bellicose and was ready to lie low, provided he was not disturbed. In the course of a few days the trenches were deepened, so that one could walk along the front line without being exposed from his waist upwards, and after the Ninth Divisional Artillery relieved that of the Thirty-fifth on the 28th December, the Germans were annoyed to find that the peace of the sector had vanished. Peevish and fretful, the foe retaliated chiefly by means of heavy trench mortars and lighter ones, variously known by our troops as “aerial darts,” “pine-apples,” or “fish-tails.” Though the former made a terrific din and flattened the trenches, they did not cause much loss of life, but the latter were very sinister weapons, and were fired five or six at a time, so that, though they were visible, it was difficult to dodge one and avoid running into another. From these came most of our casualties, about 30 per week for each battalion in the front line, a fairly high total for what was regarded as a tranquil spot. The duel of hate however was much in our favour. The enemy trench system was divided into sectors for retaliation purposes, and so admirable was the co-operation between our infantry and gunners, that when a battalion was pestered by trench mortars, it only required a single code word such as “Dora” or “Minnie” to be ’phoned by the former to the latter to ensure prompt punishment for the offending sector.

Raids were the most outstanding feature of these months and they came to be regarded rather as a matter of course than as an adventure. Ten raids, the majority of them successful, were carried out between the 1st January and the 9th April. Many of the enemy were killed and 49 prisoners captured, while our casualties, chiefly wounded, did not exceed the number of the prisoners.