The Australian Victories in France in 1918

by Sir John Monash

It was a meeting full of tense situations—and of grave import. At that moment of time, the whole of the Infantry destined for the assault at dawn next morning, including those very Americans, was already well on its way to its battle stations; the Artillery was in the act of dissolving its defensive organization with a view to moving forward into its battle emplacements as soon as dusk should fall; I well knew that even if orders could still with certainty reach the battalions concerned, the withdrawal of those Americans would result in untold confusion and in dangerous gaps in our line of battle.

Even had I been ready to risk the success of the battle by going ahead without them, I could not afford to take the further risk of the occurrence of something in the nature of an "international incident" between the troops concerned, whose respective points of view about the resulting situation could be readily surmised. So I resolved to take a firm stand and press my views as strongly as I dared; for even a Corps Commander must use circumspection when presuming to argue with an Army Commander.

However, disguised in the best diplomatic language that I was able to command, my representations amounted to this: firstly, that it was already too late to carry out the order; secondly, that the battle would have to go on either with the Americans participating, or not at all; thirdly, that unless I were expressly ordered to abandon the battle, I intended to go on as originally planned; and lastly, that unless I received such a cancellation order before 6.30 p.m. it would in any case be too late to stop the battle, the preliminary phases of which were just on the point of beginning.

As always, Lord Rawlinson's charming and sympathetic personality made it easy to lay my whole case before him. He was good enough to say that while he entirely agreed with me, he felt himself bound by the terms of a clear order from the Commander-in-Chief. My last resource, then, was to urge the argument that I felt perfectly sure that the Commander-in-Chief when giving such an order could not have had present to his mind the probability that compliance with it meant the abandonment of the battle, and that, under the circumstances, it was competent for the senior Commander on the spot to act in the light of the situation as known to him, even to the extent of disobeying an order.

Rawlinson agreed that this view was correct provided the Commander-in-Chief was not accessible for reference. Repeated attempts to raise General Headquarters from Bussy eventually elicited the information that the Field Marshal was then actually on his way from Versailles, and expected to arrive in half an hour. Thereupon Rawlinson promised a decision by 6.30, and we separated to rejoin our respective Headquarters.

In due course, the Army Commander telephoned that he had succeeded in speaking to the Field Marshal, who explained that he had directed the withdrawal of the Americans in deference to the wish of General Pershing, but that, as matters stood, he now wished everything to go on as originally planned. And so—the crisis passed as suddenly as it had appeared. For, to me it had taken the form of a very serious crisis, feeling confident as I did of the success of the forthcoming battle, and of the far-reaching consequences which would be certain to follow. It appeared to me at the time that great issues had hung for an hour or so upon the chance of my being able to carry my point.

An interesting episode, intimately bound up with the story of this battle, was the visit to the Corps area on July 2nd of the Prime Minister of the Commonwealth, Mr. W. M. Hughes, and Sir Joseph Cook, the Minister of the Navy. They arrived all unconscious of the impending enterprise, but only by taking them fully into my confidence could I justify my evident preoccupation with other business of first-class importance. Most readily, however, did they accommodate themselves to the exigencies of the situation.

Both Ministers accompanied me that afternoon on a tour of inspection of the eight battalions who were then already parading in full battle array, and on the point of moving off to the assembly positions from which next day they would march into battle. The stirring addresses delivered to the men by both Ministers did much to hearten and stimulate them. As they were on their way to an Inter-Allied War Council at Versailles, the personal contact of the Ministers with the actual battle preparations had the subsequent result of focussing upon the outcome of the battle a good deal of interest on the part of the whole War Council.

The fixing of the exact moment for the opening of a battle has always been the subject of much controversy. As in many other matters, it becomes in the end the responsibility of one man to make the fatal decision. The Australians always favoured the break of day, as this gave them the protection of the hours of darkness for the assembly of the assaulting troops in battle order in our front trenches. But there must be at least sufficient light to see one's way for two hundred yards or so, otherwise direction is lost and confusion ensues.

The season of the year, the presence and altitude of the moon, the prospect of fog or ground mist, the state of the weather, and the nature and condition of the ground are all factors which affect the proper choice of the correct moment. To aid a decision, careful observations were usually made on three or four mornings preceding the chosen day. A new factor on this occasion was the strong appeal by the Tanks for an extra five minutes of dawning light, to ensure a true line of approach upon the allotted objective, whether a ruined village, or a thicket, or a field work.