As, in my opinion, the capture of Hill 60 by the British was in reality the starting-point of the fight for the salient, no account of this historic battle would, I believe, be complete without the story of the capture and loss of the hill, a chaplet of stirring incidents in which the 13th Infantry Brigade won immortal glory. In order to make a connected narrative, I will group together the incidents marking the capture and loss of Hill 60, though, in reality, the fight for the salient had begun before the hill was finally lost.
Hill 60 lies in an isolated position on the extreme western ridge of the Klein Zillebeke Ridge with the Ypres-Comines railway-line, which here runs through a deep cutting, spanned by a small bridge on the one side and the Klein Zillebeke-Zwartelen Road on the other. It is a low hill, with a flattish top, about 45 feet above the surrounding country. The Germans held the upper slopes and the summit of the hill, while our trenches ran round the lower slopes.
For some months before the events which I am about to describe the trenches round Hill 60 were held by a division whose General was not slow to recognize the strategical advantage which the possession of the hill conferred. He accordingly began to make his plans to this end, but before he could bring them to fruition his division was ordered north to take over some of the line from the French.
It fell to the lot of the 13th Brigade to put to the test the plan for the capture of the hill. Like all successful offensives, the attack was the object of the most minute preparation in advance. It was decided that the summit of the hill should be mined, after which the infantry should advance to the capture of the hill. While underground the mining operations went forward, the Brigadier reconnoitred the positions in person. Finally everything was ready for the attack, which was timed to be launched at seven o’clock on the evening of April 17.
The 1st Royal West Kents, otherwise “The Gallant Half-Hundred,” and the 2nd King’s Own Scottish Borderers, who were for so long in garrison in Dublin, were entrusted with the initial attack. Officers and non-commissioned officers received their instructions as to the order in which the storming parties were to go forward, ammunition and bombs were laid ready, the doctors selected their regimental aid-posts, where first aid is administered to the wounded, and all along the line the requisite measures were taken for the replenishment without delay of the supplies in men, ammunition, and provisions as the wastage of the fight should make itself felt. So it is before every engagement. Meanwhile the West Kents and the K.O.S.B.’s spent a long day in the trenches on the fateful April 17, waiting for the shadows to fall and the hands of the watch to point to 7 p.m. When an attack of this kind is impending men’s nerves are strung up tight. It speaks well for the discipline of these two battalions that they stood the test without a trace of nerves.
Thin blue threads of smoke were rising from the German trenches into the clear evening air when, with a dull, low thud, accompanied by a billowing quiver of the earth, the summit of Hill 60 was blown sky-high in an immense black spout of earth and débris and human fragments. Immediately afterwards, with a deafening roar, the second mine went up—exploding, it is believed, a German mine with it, so loud was the report. In the space of a minute or two five mines were touched off, and immediately after our artillery opened rapid fire on all the German positions in the vicinity, on the woods in the rear, on the ruins of Zwartelen village on the left (see map), and on the railway cutting. As our guns spoke, Major Joslin, who was commanding the West Kents’ storming party, standing beside the Royal Engineers officer who fired the mines, blew the charge on his whistle, and the attack got away, the bombers in front.
The Germans were as completely surprised as they were at Neuve Chapelle. Their trenches had been practically obliterated, and in their place appeared five yawning craters, the largest of which measured about 50 yards across by 40 feet deep. These gulfs were filled with dead and wounded men. A few Germans made a show of resistance, but were speedily accounted for. Many who fled headlong across the open behind their trenches were mown down by our machine-guns, which had been expecting this development. The West Kents went through the craters and bombed their way down the communication trenches into the German support trenches, while digging parties of the K.O.S.B.’s set about making trenches across the lips of the craters.
At 7.20 p.m. Hill 60 was ours.