At the commencement of the 26th, the fighting strength of the Division was approximately as follows: Highland Brigade 300, Lowland Brigade 800, South African Battalion 320, Sappers 120, two Machine-gun groups with 10 guns each, a total of 1340 rifles and 20 machine-guns. Brig.-General Croft’s men had lost cruelly during the day, and it was doubtful if the line now occupied, over 3000 yards in length, could be defended next day against a strong attack.
During the night of the 26th/27th alarming reports of a break-through on the Albert-Amiens road came in, but nothing serious had actually happened, and the few troops who had given way were quickly rallied. A machine-gun on the left of the Lowland Brigade was a source of much annoyance to the 11th Royal Scots until a smart counter-attack organised by Major A. C. Campbell put it out of action. Unfortunately Major Campbell, who had led the 11th Royal Scots with great skill and sterling courage during the retreat, received wounds which proved fatal.
The 27th was a critical day for General Gough’s army; for the Germans forced the line of the Somme from Chipilly to Cérisy, and took Lamotte on the great Amiens road, about 9000 yards behind the fighting line of the Fifth Army. There was more stability on our front, though some of our troops were reported to be retiring near Albert. This was due to furious shelling, and to bombing by aeroplanes with British colours, but the retrograde movement was stopped and an outpost line established along the Railway with Lewis Gun posts in front. During the day there was a violent artillery and trench-mortar bombardment of our positions, and at 10.30 A.M. German infantry were seen entering the valley north-west of Meaulte. Later, great clusters of the enemy coming down the slopes of the Ancre were hotly engaged by our artillery and machine-guns, and did not venture to assault. Here and there clefts appeared in our thin line, but were promptly closed by swift and skilful local counter-attacks. Undoubtedly the most disturbing factor was the persistent bombing of our positions by large numbers of aeroplanes, British by their marking.
With the close of the day the long travail of the Ninth terminated. The infantry were relieved by the 4th Australian Division, and after moving to the neighbourhood of Baizieux, ultimately concentrated in the Bertangles area on the 29th. For two days more the artillery remained in action with the Australians and were then withdrawn.
The retreat imposed a heavy burden on the R.A.M.C., but Colonel Elsner’s staff met their difficulties with untiring devotion and conspicuous success. Many wounded among the forward troops inevitably fell into the hands of the enemy, but stretcher-bearers and motor parties often ventured up to the fighting line in their search for casualties. The selection of routes for the evacuation of the wounded called for careful consideration, in order to avoid congestion on roads blocked with transport and guns, but Colonel Elsner was eminently successful in making the best working arrangements possible. Gallantry and resource among the R.A.M.C. were too common to be remarked on, and motor-drivers as usual braved all the difficulties of the roads with the air of phlegmatic boredom that seemed to be their natural expression. Every means of conveyance was requisitioned, and the whole of the work during the retreat strikingly revealed the efficiency of the R.A.M.C.
Equally difficult and important was the task of keeping the men supplied with rations and ammunition. The regular transmission of stores was naturally affected by the constant movement, but our organisation withstood the strain, and the A.S.C. performed its duties in a manner worthy of its high traditions.
Never perhaps did the Ninth render such vital services to the Empire as during the Somme retreat. It had covered not merely its own territory, but had extended its line far beyond its northern boundary, and in the arduous and critical fighting till the 24th March, its success in blunting the deadly German thrust between the Third and Fifth Armies did much to save the British forces from what might have been an irretrievable disaster. Adroit leadership and dogged pluck were the qualities that steered it through the labyrinth of dangers that beset it at every turn. Officers of all ranks had shown throughout the conflict surprising resource and initiative; the coolness and foresight of General Tudor during the most critical days led one writer[109] to declare that his name “should be as well known as are Wellington’s best generals, Crauford, Colborne, and Picton.”
Ably led, the men had brilliantly performed the most difficult operation in war—a withdrawal in face of the enemy. Men who after rough buffetings can at the end of a retreat turn round and confront the foe with unshaken nerve and steadfast courage have proved their manhood indeed, and this, the acid test of the true soldier, had been accomplished by the men of the Ninth. In a general sense, it is true that the gain or loss of ground is insignificant in comparison with the destruction of an army, but for the individual the surrender of many miles of territory, painfully won after more than three years of costly strife, cannot fail to rouse the most sombre reflections, and only the best of troops can overcome the leaden despondency caused by a continuous backward movement. Valour alone would not have availed to stem the enemy’s advance; discipline was required to direct and control it, and disciplined valour was, in fact, the characteristic of the Division during the retreat. The six weeks of training in February had helped to make the Division more than a match for the pick of Ludendorff’s storm-troops.
Since the time of the Cambrai operations in 1917, G.H.Q. had renewed the custom, abandoned after Loos, of mentioning by name the divisions that had particularly distinguished themselves. The retreat was the first operation in which the Division had participated since the resumption of this practice, and it earned the proud honour of a special mention[110] by Sir Douglas Haig.