At 5.5 p.m. we were ordered to send out daylight patrols to ascertain the position of affairs in front. Several volunteers, amongst whom were Corpls. G. Clay, and C. E. Bryan, L.-Corpls. Moss and Hickman, and Pvtes. Charles, Brett, Adams, and Nightingall, remained out for some time, and brought back useful information. Meanwhile much gallant work was also being done by the Stretcher Bearers and others. Pvtes. Holbery, Thomas, Nelson, and Shearman worked continuously for nearly 36 hours carrying in wounded, often under heavy fire, whilst Comp. Sergt.-Major T. Powell, who brought in three wounded men by daylight, and Sergt. Grainger, who controlled his men with great skill during the battle and also rescued a wounded man, are deserving of special mention.
At 6.10 p.m. we received instructions to take over the original front and advanced trenches from the 6th, and remnants of the 5th and 7th Battalions, who were there, and this was done. Later, however, the 5th Lincolns took over the line as they had been ordered to carry out another attack at midnight, in order to try and rescue some of the 5th and 7th Battalions, who it was thought were still in the Boche trenches. This, however, was not pressed, and finally A Company of our Battalion were given the melancholy task of scouring No Man's Land to find the dead and wounded. Eventually the 5th Lincolns took over from us on the morning of the 2nd July, and we withdrew the same day to billets at Gaudiempré.
Even as we left Foncquevillers ill-luck pursued us, for a premature burst of a shell from one of our guns took place close to us as we were formed up behind the wood ready to move off, and wounded four, fortunately not seriously. Otherwise our casualties during the actual battle had not been heavy, amounting to three killed, two missing (attached to Trench Mortar Battery) and 37 wounded.
We cannot look back with anything but regret on that awful battle, when so many lives were sacrificed apparently to no purpose. July 1st is not our happiest of days—indeed on two successive occasions it was our most unfortunate day of the year. It must have been quite obvious to the enemy that this was to be the flank of the Somme attack, although some demonstration was made by the 37th Division on our left. The enemy, therefore, were able to bring all their guns from the direction of Adinfer Wood to bear on No Man's Land on our front. Lack of troops had necessitated the employment of the attacking Battalions in the most exacting fatigues up to the very eve of the assault. Probably, barely a man had had a full night's sleep for a week prior to the attack, and there had been scarcely a day or night when rain had not fallen consistently and heavily, and working parties had not been soaked through to the skin. Those of us, who eight months later, stood on some of the German concrete machine gun emplacements opposite, commanding a magnificent field of fire from positions proof against the heaviest shells, saw still the lines of dead bodies lying in No Man's Land, a tragic and pitiable witness, if witness were needed, that the failure of the attack was in no measure due to any lack of dash or courage on the part of our indomitable Infantry. Practically every Officer of the attacking Battalions was killed or wounded, and a large proportion of the men, and but an insignificant proportion fell alive into the hands of the enemy.
It was some slight comfort to receive from the Corps Commander an appreciation of our efforts, which had kept busy a large number of the enemy's best troops, and to know that we had a share in the success of the great Somme attack, and that our terrible losses were not entirely in vain.
CHAPTER VIII
BELLACOURT
July 2nd, 1916.— October 29th, 1916.
We spent one night at Gaudiempré, and on July 3rd, moved a few miles North to a delightful Camp at Bavincourt, where we made up our minds to have a well-earned rest. The Camp was charmingly situated, and we were preparing to have it run on model lines, when alas, in the early hours of July 4th, sudden orders were received to move. We had, however, made the best of our few hours there, most of us going to an excellent entertainment by the "Barn Owls," the Concert Party of the 37th Division, which cheered us immensely.
The fighting on the Somme, which had gone successfully for us in many parts, was causing rapid reorganisation and consequent movement of troops, so that our sudden move was not altogether surprising. We left Bavincourt on the morning of July 4th, and after a little excitement due to the shelling of the road, and a terrific thunderstorm, we eventually got settled once more at Pommier, with the exception of A Company, who went on to Bienvillers. The rest of the Battalion joined them there on July 7th, except Transport and Quarter-Master's Stores, which moved to La Cauchie. Our most important work there was the somewhat ticklish procedure on two nights of carrying up to the Monchy trenches, about two miles North of Foncquevillers, cylinders of gas to loose off on a suitable occasion. These were drawn at Hannescamp, and for carrying were fastened to poles, each cylinder requiring two men. Special precautions were taken to ensure perfect silence, so as not to give the enemy an idea that gas was being installed. Further, in order to protect the carrying party, in case any of the cylinders got broken by shells or otherwise on the way up, every man wore his smoke helmet rolled up on his head, ready for instantly pulling down over his face. Neither steel helmets nor caps were worn on these occasions. As the cylinders had to be got up to our front line trench, the operation was attended with considerable risk, but fortune favoured us, and it is believed that the Battalion never suffered a casualty when engaged on the work, though large parties had to be found on several occasions for a similar purpose.