"Zero hour" had been set for 6.20. At last it came. On the minute—nay, on the second, so exact is now the synchronising of all watches for this work—with a wide-flung, sky-splitting roar our barrage-fire opened. At the same instant all along our front appeared the round, basin-like helmets of the men of our first wave as they climbed over the parapets of the "jumping-off" trenches. Their appearance in itself marked an appreciable gain of ground already secured, for these jumping-off trenches had been dug, with infinite toil and secrecy and at heavy risk, at a distance of 100 to 150 yards in advance of our established front-line trench, by so much shortening the perilous path across the open to our objectives. This arduous and valuable work had been carried out by the 19th Battalion (Toronto and Hamilton) on the right, and by the 29th (Vancouver) on the left.
At four minutes past zero time the barrage lifted to a line about 100 yards farther on, and in another minute our first waves (the attack was ordered in four waves) was in possession of the first of the German trenches. This trench, which ran (as will be seen by the map) close along our whole attacking front, was not very strongly held, and the resistance offered by its defenders was no more than enough to warm our men up for what was to follow.
From this point it is necessary to trace the progress of the battle Brigade by Brigade rather than as a whole, for the problems confronting the 4th Brigade, on the right (as will be seen from the map), were different from those which the 6th Brigade, on the left, had to deal with. Suffice it to say here, by way of clamping the two sections of the movement together, that by 8 o'clock both Brigades were receiving the congratulations of the Divisional Commander, General Turner, upon their swift success. By 8.30 the last of our objectives was completely in our hands and being consolidated, while the enemy, dazed by the swiftness of their overthrow and demoralised to the point of panic by the implacable onslaught of the Tanks, had fled behind the inner defences of Courcelette. The way into the stronghold lay wide open.
The waves of an attack, under the latest conditions of warfare, go forward not in one long sweep, but in a succession of short advances strictly regulated by the successive steps of the barrage fire. Each time the barrage lifts forward—which it does according to a scheme previously worked out to the minute and the yard—the attacking lines must instantly move up behind it, as close as possible to the shelter of the appalling curtain of flame and death which it lets down before them. The progress of the wave being thus so strictly scheduled, it must often leave small enemy posts in its rear, or dug-outs sheltering furtive bands of machine-gunners. To deal with these "remainders"—which might easily become a serious menace, or even bring about complete disaster—behind the waves come the "mopping-up" parties, whose job it is to ferret out the hidden posts, clear the dug-outs, and gather in prisoners. The advance of the 4th Brigade on all its fronts, and in spite of desperate opposition, was so rapid and irresistible that it left behind plenty of work for its mopping-up parties.
Within fifteen minutes of going over the Brigade was in possession of another line of German trench, from three to four hundred yards behind the first line, running south-east from the Bapaume Road towards the Martinpuich Road. In the deep bays of this trench the contention was bitter and severe, and here occurred one of those instances of treachery for which the German has shown such peculiar aptitude. A party of the enemy threw up their hands, with, the customary cry of "Kamerad! Kamerad!" and surrendered to a company of the 18th Battalion, under the command of Captain S. Loghrin. As Captain Loghrin was accepting their surrender one of the party threw a bomb at him and blew him to pieces. The Captain's followers flung themselves forward in a fury, and not one German in that sector of the trench escaped the steel.
Throughout the advance the three assaulting Battalions of the Brigade, in spite of varying obstacles, succeeded in maintaining an even frontage. When the 18th, on the right, and the 20th, in the centre, fighting their way forward through the storm of shell and shrapnel and the deadly sleet of the machine-guns, had reached and taken Candy Trench, the final objective set them, it was still scarcely more than 7 o'clock. Three or four minutes in advance of them the 21st Battalion on the left, had reached the Sugar Factory and gained a footing there.
The Factory, though a redoubtable stronghold, had already been badly knocked about by our big guns. Now, within a very few minutes, it was surrounded on three sides by our exultant troops, who were not to be denied. After a mad half-hour of hand-to-hand struggle in a hell of grenade and machine-gun fire, from the dreadful turmoil of grunting, cursing, and shouting, the blood and the sweat of savage bodily combat, victory suddenly emerged, and the heap of ruins remained securely in our hands—along with 125 prisoners, of whom 10 were officers. One of the companies which distinguished themselves in this Homeric bout—"B" Company of the 21st Battalion—was commanded and most efficiently handled throughout the crisis of the affair by its senior non-commissioned officer, Sergeant-Major Dear, every one of its officers having fallen during its hard-fought advance along the Bapaume Road.
The unexpectedly swift collapse of this stronghold of the Sugar Factory—which the enemy had thought to make impregnable—was hastened, no doubt, by the intervention of one of the "Tanks." This monster, apparently eyeless, its carapace a daub of uncouth colours, squat and portentous as one of those colossal saurians which we picture emerging from the Eocene slime, had wallowed its slow, irresistible way up over the trenches and shell-holes, belching fire from its sides and its dreadful, blind, blunt snout. Bullets and shrapnel fell harmlessly as snowflakes upon its impervious shell. Bombs exploded thickly upon it, and, though wrapping it in flame, did no more than deface the fantastic patterns of its paint. Its path, wherever it moved, was spread with panic. In the teeth of the most concentrated fire it waddled deliberately up to the barriers of the Sugar Factory, trod them down without haste or effort, and exterminated a defending machine-gun with its crew. Then, crashing ponderously through or over every kind of obstacle, made a slow circuit of the Factory, halting stolidly here and there to blot out a troublesome nest of machine-gunners or to preside over the submission of a bunch of horror-stricken Huns. Its work done at this point, it lumbered off to seek adventure elsewhere, its grotesque—and, unfortunately, vulnerable—little tail bobbing absurdly over the shell-holes.
The 4th Brigade, having gained all its objectives, was now in no mood to rest content. The task of consolidation being well in hand, the 20th Battalion, in the centre of the line, sent forward a patrol under Captain Heron, M.C., the Battalion scouting officer. With great audacity and skill, Captain Heron worked his way along parallel to the Bapaume Road for a distance of 800 yards, and broke into the trench known as Gun Pit Trench. This was an important work, protecting, and in part coinciding with, the sunken road which forms the link between Courcelette and Martinpuich. Greatly daring—and profiting, no doubt, by the demoralising effect of the Tank's peregrinations in the neighbourhood—the little party bombed several dug-outs, and returned with two captured machine-guns and two prisoners to show for their splendidly insolent exploit. They reported the trench lightly held, whereupon the Brigade, promptly grasping the occasion, swept forward in a new—and thoroughly impromptu attack. Before 10 o'clock the trench was in our hands, with 50 prisoners (including two officers), a machine-gun, and three trench-mortars. Still unwearied, still unsated with success, the exultant Battalions pushed on and gained a line along the eastern side of the sunken road, where by 1 o'clock they had securely dug themselves in. This handsome and unpremeditated gain greatly simplified the consolidating of our position at Candy Trench and the Sugar Factory, and immediately made practicable the main operation against Courcelette itself.
With no less brilliancy and determination, meanwhile, the 6th Brigade, on the left, had been carrying out its share of the enterprise. From the first of the attack, or at least from its first objective (the first German trench) onward, it encountered a more stubborn resistance than that with which the 4th had to contend. Diagonally across the path of their advance, from the point on the right where the first German trench joined the Bapaume Road northwards to a juncture with McDonnell Road on the westernmost edge of Courcelette, ran a sunken road which had been strengthened by deep entrenching. It is shown on the map as Taffy Trench—and was so named by the troops doubtless in recognition of its complete harmony with the system of Sugar Trench, Candy Trench, and the Sugar Factory fitly presiding over all. Furthermore, the Brigade's advance was flanked throughout by strong enemy posts strung along McDonnell Road. The Battalion on the left (the 31st of Alberta) had not only to reduce these as it went, and to accomplish the reduction rapidly so as not to delay the main advance, but it had also to establish a defensive flank at the same time and thoroughly secure it in order to cover the advance against an enfilading assault from the network of German trenches spreading towards the north and north-west.