Part 2
"I never saw a finer death," one man told me. "He looked very brave and handsome up there, outlined against the sky, the only figure on the bank above, his helmet off, and his face very pale and blazing with anger, and his right arm pointing forward. He fell down headlong, but we never turned back until we gave the Germans hell. Two hours later, I was told, the Colonel was still lying there on his face on the edge of the trench. Then they turned him over and brought him in."
The second-in-command of the Patricia's, Major Hamilton Gault, was severely wounded, and many gallant officers fell.
The machine-guns of the Royal Canadian Regiment inflicted fearful mortality. Between them and the Princess Patricia's was a gap, fifty yards wide, into which the Germans poured on finding it undefended, and were smashed on both flanks, and mowed down by scores. On their arrival at the "Appendix," only forty yards from the enemy's front trenches, they were met by a withering fire which almost obliterated them. A little further south they were more successful, and from the "Loop," where the company of the Princess Patricia's had perished, they penetrated to Gordon Road and beyond, and then commenced a fierce attack to the north. But here a swift and stern retribution was to be exacted from them.
A company commander, Captain Hugh Niven, who, although already twice wounded, was still full of valour and resolution, gathered the remainder of his men together, some seventy rifles in all and two machine-guns, and, hidden behind sandbags, awaited the foe in silence. The order was given: "Not a man must shoot until I give the signal!" Apparently the Boche was taken unawares. The volley which blazed forth was reminiscent of the immortal front rank fire of Lascelles' Regiment on the Heights at Quebec.
One stalwart French-Canadian, Arseneau by name, who had often faced wild animals in the backwoods, burning with ardour, could not be restrained from leaping up on the improvised parapet and repeatedly emptying his rifle, before the enemy could recover from his astonishment. His captain tells me that no fewer than eight Germans fell to this man's marksmanship alone in that swift encounter. When it was over, at least one hundred of the enemy slain lay on the ground. Afterwards the officer mentioned shepherded his men into a section of trench, he himself spending the whole of the ensuing night perambulating the trenches, directing defences, ministering to and encouraging and directing his men. It was truly an astonishing feat of physical endurance.
"We had lost so many," he said, "I felt I ought to be on deck as long as I could crawl." He was still giving orders when the stretcher-bearers lifted him out and bore him away to the field hospital.
A gallant youth in his twenty-fourth year was Captain Cotton, son of a Major-General, sometime Inspector-General of the Canadian Forces. Cotton was ordered to take two machine-guns and dig them in in such a manner in the front line that they would enfilade the enemy's trenches on the left. If the Germans rushed his own position, he was to disable his guns and retire with his men. After fighting valiantly for a time, the enemy charged, whereupon Cotton, instead of retiring, coolly hauled both guns out of their emplacements and turned them on the advancing Germans. He and his men continued firing until all were slain, and lay a heap of mangled flesh about their guns.
On the edge of the craters the bodies were seen of a stalwart Sergeant-Major of the Mounted Rifles and two privates of the Princess Patricia's. Lying around them and beneath them were the bodies of no fewer than twelve Germans whom they had slain with the bayonet.
By half-past five o'clock the enemy had penetrated and possessed themselves of about a mile of our front line trenches in the middle of the arc they had attacked with such demoniac force. The trenches south of Hooge for 1,000 yards we still held, and also the front east of Hill 60. After nightfall the Germans, renewing their bombardment, pushed on 700 yards further towards Zillebeke, and proceeded to entrench themselves firmly. For the moment their artillery had won them an advantage, but the price they had paid was at least as terrible as our own--how terrible we shall not know until the close of the War, and the German official records or the German survivors of this battle speak and tell us.
I write in haste, surrounded by the terrible evidences of a bloody struggle. It would be impossible within the limits of time and space to recount even a tithe of the outstanding deeds of heroism of yesterday's battle, which waged without cessation until nine at night. Albeit one more incident I must relate. It is the story of the Rev. Gilles Wilken, a parson from Medicine Hat, on the Bow River. At the outbreak of war Wilken flung aside his surplice and enlisted as a private. He came to England with his battalion, where his talent for ministration and good works could not be concealed, and he was promptly, when a vacancy occurred, appointed chaplain. Having on this day, in Sanctuary Wood, done all he could for the dead and dying, Wilken felt it his duty to strike a blow of sterner sort for his country. He seized a rifle, wielding it with accuracy and effect as long as his ammunition lasted, and then went after the Germans with a bayonet. After one particularly fierce thrust the weapon broke. Whereupon this astounding parson, baring his arms, flew at one brawny Boche with his fists, and the last seen of him he was lying prone and overpowered.
The outstanding feature of the day was, however, not the numerous traits of individual valour. It is the marvellous tact and moral impetus of the officers and non-commissioned officers, and the discipline and cohesion of the men which I find evokes most praise. When one was struck down and unable to give or receive orders, another took his place automatically, and was obeyed implicitly and instantly. In one battalion only two officers survived. In some other battalions the losses have been very severe. One lost three-quarters of its strength. But the morale of all ranks was unimpaired, and the troops, who had endured this day an experience which might well weaken the purpose of the strongest and stoutest, were fit and ready at dawn on the morrow to undertake a counter-attack.
*II.*
_June 4th._
That Friday night, while the enemy was preparing to hold his new front, and the stretcher-bearers and Red Cross workers on both sides were bringing in their wounded and dead, General Sir Julian Byng, the Corps Commander, was planning a counter-attack to recover the ground which had been lost. This attack was delayed for some hours, owing to the necessity for assembling artillery in such force as to silence the enemy, who still maintained a vigorous and occasionally an intense bombardment.
The advance was timed for six o'clock in the morning, but still the barrage did not lift, and it was nearly half-past nine when our troops moved forward in earnest. These troops belonged to the First and Third Divisions, but the brunt of the fighting was borne by survivors of the 7th and 8th Brigades of the latter Division, assisted by two companies of the King's Royal Rifles, an Imperial regiment which had been serving in the Salient to the left of the Canadian troops.
A bombardment of a vigour almost equal to that of the Germans of the previous day created a shelter for our advancing battalions. The enemy guns replied, and at one time the spectacle was witnessed of a double barrage of appalling intensity. None the less, the Canadians pushed on, and after fighting all day succeeded in reaching a portion of their old front-line trenches in the northern section. On the way thither they came across numbers of enemy dead lying about unburied. But the trenches were battered to pieces, and our troops were not in sufficient strength to hold on until the works could be reconstructed. The same was true of the battalions of the 8th Brigade, who advanced south of Maple Copse and east of Warrington Avenue, although the 49th Battalion, which had lost its commanding officer, Colonel Baker, struggled valiantly for a time to maintain itself. The upshot was that we were forced back to a new front line of trenches near Zillebeke.
The losses of these two days have been grievous--some 7,000 killed and wounded. It is to-day known that the commander of the heroic Third Canadian Division, Major-General Mercer, has fallen. Just as the Huns were making their advance at half-past one o'clock, the General was seen supporting himself against a parapet at the entrance of a dug-out known as the Tube, suffering from shell shock, and there beyond doubt he met his death, and there his body lies buried. A brigade commander and a battalion commander were taken prisoners. Two other colonels, Buller and Baker, have been slain.
The earth is all torn, seared, and fretted hereabouts, but a surprising amount of timber still stands. All through those two fierce days' fighting, wounded men were crawling about or lying motionless for hours, either helpless or to avoid observation. One man told me he had spent two nights on his back in No Man's Land without food, drink, or succour. Another was thrice buried by the effects of the much-vaunted minenwerfer shell--which ploughs up the surrounding earth--and thrice dug out by a passing officer. Machine-guns were repeatedly buried, and then rapidly and diligently excavated and brought by our gallant fellows again into action, much to the enemy's amazement and discomfiture.
It is now Sunday afternoon at Corps Headquarters.
As I write, staff officers hurry to and fro; occasionally a general or a battalion commander dashes by, all deeply preoccupied and intent on the business in hand. Some of them have not slept for three days. The troops who have borne the brunt are now going into rest billets.
As to these two days' struggle, if you were to take all the actions along the British front from the very beginning, there is none that illustrates so vividly, so intensely, the whole character of the fighting in this War. It combines the essential features of all, with the exception of poison gas. Brief, compact, and murderous, it was by far the greatest artillery ordeal to which the Canadians have yet been subjected. As an exhibition of German frightfulness on the one hand, and British steadfastness on the other, it is unsurpassed in the War. "Comparable only to Verdun," is the comment to me of a distinguished commander, when I mentioned the fury of the German bombardment.
Down the road leading from the battle front to the divisional headquarters appears the head of a long column of mud-stained, grimy-faced Canadians, with rusty, tattered accoutrements, their heads in the air, still keeping step, and singing--actually singing--with a sort of wild humour and abandon. And one catches the sound, not of the "Maple Leaf for Ever," or "My Little Grey Home in the West," but of the latest London music-hall ditty--the one a famous comedian chants nightly at the Alhambra:
"If you were the only girl in the world, And I were the only boy!"
But make no mistake about it--retribution is in the air. Look into the men's eyes, and their glances tell the same tale. The men are excited--they are feverish; all this that you see is reaction. They know, every man of them, the game is only just begun. The question is: How long will the German be permitted to hold on to his winnings? I have just had a brief interview with the Corps commander, Sir Julian Byng, who gave me this message:--
"I am proud of the Canadians under my command. Their behaviour has been magnificent. I have never known, not even at Vimy Ridge, a fiercer or more deadly barrage, nor have I ever seen any troops fight with more earnestness, courage, endurance, and cheerfulness. It is regrettable that our losses are heavy, but the slight penetration of our line will cost the Germans dear."
Yes; it is possible that the battle is only just begun. The next few hours may reveal much, but it will reveal no secret of German strategy for which we shall not be fully prepared.
*III.*
_June 7th._
It is all a question of artillery preparation. The enemy momentarily holds a large portion of the ground formerly held by us. It is only a few acres, when all is said, but it is as precious to us as our life-blood. We have been given a charge to keep, and the honour of Canada is involved in our keeping it intact. Evidently the Hun commander had convinced himself that here was a vulnerable point in the British line, and he delivered a ruthless onslaught. It was carefully planned and meditated; this is clearly demonstrated by the enormous weight of metal, which must have been accumulating for weeks. The bombardment of June 2nd was without a parallel even in this shell-devastated region, and yesterday he repeated it. Four mines were exploded directly under our front trenches at Hooge, and he pressed forward a few steps further and captured the ruins of the hamlet.
Two short years ago the Chateau of Hooge and all the land hereabouts belonged to a Belgian nobleman, the Baron de Vinck, who dwelt here with his family and dependents. Now his chateau is as immortal as Hougoumont. Thrilling scenes have been enacted in this park--the flower of the chivalry of England and France have perished in its defence. Hooge was on October 30th, 1914, the headquarters of the 1st and 2nd Divisions. On that day General Lomax was wounded, General Munro stunned, and six staff officers killed. It was once also the headquarters of Byng's 3rd Cavalry Division. On this very ground that we are now again fighting to recover, on November 6th, 1914, the 1st and 2nd Life Guards and the Blues advanced to make their never-to-be-forgotten stand against the Prussian Guards, who fought under their Emperor's eye.
It was to Hooge that were borne the dead bodies of Fitzclarence, Cavendish, Wellesley, Wyndham, Cadogan, Gordon-Lennox, Hay, Kinnaird, Bruce, and Fraser, and not far from there they are chiefly interred. Close at hand also is the grave of the brave young Prince Maurice of Battenberg.
It has long since--chateau, hamlet, and wood--been smashed to fragments by their guns; but we continued to hold it, and now it is theirs. It is of no strategical significance, perhaps, but it brings them nearer to Ypres, and the graves of so many of our heroic dead.
From the hill where I am stationed, the line of the new German trenches is clearly visible, even if it were not indicated by their shell-fire, which just now continues particularly hot in the neighbourhood of St. Eloi. Our line has been slightly indented, but the high ground to the east was already theirs, from which they could belch forth all their artillery resources, and it is difficult to see what strategical advantage they have gained from their late bloody effort. From all I can gather, the cost to them in casualties, as well as ammunition, has been very great--much greater than was first supposed.
Earlier in the war the shelling I am now witnessing at the turn in the loop which encloses this blood-stained amphitheatre of three thousand acres would have seemed a serious bombardment. Now it is merely an artillery diversion. Twenty thousand Canadian soldiers, hidden in what seems an absolutely deserted plain, are looking upwards at those great white or yellow puffs of smoke with quiet unconcern, awaiting the appointed hour. For the present, the Boche has done his worst. He has given a violent tug at the loop, and if he has shortened it by a few inches, it is possible it has also made it stronger. It has cost him thousands of lives and yielded him a few battered trenches and a brick-heap.
Elsewhere on the British front numerous raids, adroitly planned by us, and almost invariably successful, have been the order of the day. At one point an enormous white placard has been exhibited on the enemy parapet:
ENGLISCH--TAKE WARNUNG BY KITCHENER'S FATE. GERMANY IS INVINCIBLE.
It is impossible to reproduce the character or the spelling, both of which were atrocious. This was brought in by a raiding party, and provoked infinite amusement amongst our men.
*IV.*
_June 14th._
The expected has happened. The Canadians, chafing over the results of the fierce German offensive of the past ten days, successfully carried through in the early hours of yesterday morning a counter-attack which restored every rod of valuable ground they had lost. Observatory Ridge, the whole of Armagh Wood, and the uplands to the south, including Mount Sorel, are again firmly in our hands.
It was a most brilliant feat of arms. The night was wet, cold, and thoroughly disagreeable, but the men were in the highest possible spirits at the prospect of an advance to recover their old position. This time our artillery was fully prepared, and at 1.30 o'clock in the morning, under cover of a heavy fire, the advance began. A fresh Canadian division had been sent into the Salient, and there remained a mixed brigade of those Canadian mounted troops who have figured in the recent fighting. General Lipsett, the new divisional commander appointed to succeed General Mercer, deferred taking up his command in order to lead his old brigade into action.
To three battalions the attack was mainly entrusted. A fourth battalion to the right, opposite Hill 60, provided a diversion for the enemy, so as to protect the attacking battalions from being enfiladed, while on the extreme left, where there was less ground to be retaken, a fifth battalion advanced. The orders were to take three lines of trenches, and to establish bomb posts in the fourth.
These four trenches were (1) the new German front line which they had recently made, (2) our old reserve trench, (3) our old support trench, and (4) our old front line.
The troops pressed forward, the Germans felling back sullenly under the impetuosity of the attack. Some fierce fighting took place here and there in the territory south of Warrington Avenue, especially for the possession of Observatory Ridge, but the enemy seemed helpless before the fury of our impetus. Early in the engagement, two of his guns mounted on high ground south of the famous "Appendix" fell into our hands, and we then learned from men captured there that the Germans actually had planned a further attack upon our lines at that point, to take place at 6.30 that very morning. Owing to circumstances over which they had no control, it has been postponed.
"My battalion," narrates one officer who greatly distinguished himself this day, "went forward in four waves, two under Major Kemp and two under Major McCuaig. The first of the trenches was taken without opposition. It had been practically obliterated by our artillery. While we were taking this trench, the artillery lifted until 1.50, to give us time to reach the second trench, which we also took with little opposition. Major Kemp was hit before we reached the first trench. The third trench was taken by the first three waves, supported by the fourth." But it was here that opposition was encountered. A Boche machine-gun on the left had been dragged up from below, and ably handled by a Boche sergeant, whose face was streaming with blood, enfiladed our line in a most disastrous manner. Four of our advancing officers were struck down, and for a few moments it looked as though that single weapon was going to check this part of the line.
"Silence that Hun machine! Put it out of action!" roared one of our officers. And a machine-gun officer, Lieutenant Hamilton, ran backwards with a single private, armed with bombs, and charged the Boche offender in the dark, guided only by his own fire. Their first bomb killed the sergeant, but another sprang in his place, and the crew had to be beaten off with fists and the butt of a revolver. The gun was captured, mounted, and trained on the enemy.
Meanwhile Lieutenant Giveen, the bombing officer, having been killed, his place was filled by Lieutenant Saunders, who led a bombing party up the communication trench to the fourth and foremost trench, which was the front Canadian line of ten days ago. Having rapidly issued instructions to his men to establish blocks, the gallant Saunders could not refrain from raising a cheer of triumph. At that very moment he was struck down, probably by a bomb. He had led the way, and others followed, and a red rocket, sent up by Major McCuaig's orders, announced to those behind that the final objective of the counter-attack had been reached. In less than ten minutes a party of engineers and a company of pioneers, armed with picks and shovels, were on the spot, and the work of digging in--of "consolidating"--began. All this while another force had been toiling madly at digging out the third line of trenches. Communication was established at dawn with the battalions to right and left, who had also advanced under the same difficulties, and suffering heavy losses, which were to be heavier during that terrible day when the Germans began their bombardment. The rain continued to descend pitilessly, there was nothing visible anywhere but a sea and watersheds of mud, ploughed and churned by shells and bombs, and strewn with corpses and the litter of a battlefield. When the men sat down to rest, their hips were sunk in heavy brown slime. Yet even under such conditions the spirit of the men was amazing. As one of their officers has declared--
"Even men who had joined as reinforcements a month ago behaved like old and seasoned soldiers."
A Vancouver officer bears similar testimony.
"When we reached the German front line," he states, "there was no trench left. We met with no opposition, the Germans at first seeming to be too dazed by the heavy fire to which they had been subjected to do anything. The ground, as we advanced, was in a frightful state, all in holes, which were made the more trying by the pouring rain. We should never have got through had it not been for the splendid work of the artillery, for progress through this ploughed up mud was slow. We took some fifty to sixty prisoners. All the men were keen as mustard. Some of the newly-joined had never been in a serious engagement before, but they were just as steady as the old hands."
Another says: "The trenches were in a sad state, and conditions generally bad. The men had to sleep anyhow in the open. We lost pretty severely, in coming up, through shells. When at length we advanced, we went forward so rapidly that we were through the first trench and up the hill before the Germans realised what was happening. Our losses here were comparatively slight. At length we reached our old front line, where we attacked with bombs and bayonets. The Germans made an effort at a counter-attack, but it was easily handled by our bombers. We were relieved that night. The ground, I should add, was in an awful state. One of our men who had sunk deeply in the mud during the advance was discovered still tightly held in the mire afterwards, when two men pulled him out."