Chapter 2

In an Artillery Captain in the Hebuterne sector I recognized another member--a Machine-Gun officer rolled up smilingly on the way up the line, and, finest time of all, I had nearly a whole day with what was left of the old crowd when they were resting after Delville Wood.

Friendships made in the First Sportsman's Battalion were not easily broken. We are out of it now, but--once a Sportsman, always a Sportsman. That, at least, has been my experience.

And it must not be forgotten that to Mrs. Cunliffe-Owen is due the credit of conceiving the idea of a battalion formed of men over the then enlistment age, who, by reason of their life as sportsmen, were fit and hard. Approaching the War Office, she obtained permission to raise a special battalion of men up to the age of forty-five. This was how the Sportsman's Battalion was actually brought into being.

+-----------------------------------------------------+ | TRAINING AT HOME--HOW THE FINISHED SOLDIER EMERGED | | FROM THE ROUGH MATERIAL | +-----------------------------------------------------+

TRAINING AT HOME--HOW THE FINISHED SOLDIER EMERGED FROM THE ROUGH MATERIAL

Formed almost as soon as the war broke out in 1914, the First Sportsman's Battalion may have provoked some criticism. It was uncertain at first as to what branch of the service it was to represent. Personally I thought it was to be mounted, and I was not alone in this idea either. More than a few of us got busy at once in settling how, if possible, we could provide our own mounts. That was in the days when we were new to war, long before we began to know what something approaching the real thing was.

Recruiting went on briskly at the Hotel Cecil, London, where Mrs. Cunliffe-Owen and her staff worked hard and late. Lieutenant-Colonel Winter, then Second-Lieutenant Winter, with his ledger-like book and his green-baize-covered table, was a familiar figure. So, too, was the tailor who had been entrusted with the task of fitting us out with our uniforms. He, poor man, was soon in trouble. The stock sizes could be secured, but stock sizes were at a discount with the majority of the men who first joined up. They wanted outside sizes, and very considerable outside sizes, too, for the average height was a little over six feet, and the chest measurements in proportion.

Still, we recognized that these things had to be, and we kept on with a smile and a joke for everything. Perhaps we had a pair of army trousers and a sports-coat. Perhaps we had a pair of puttees, and the rest of the costume was our own. It didn't matter. It was good enough to parade in off the Embankment Gardens. It was good enough to route march in through the London streets. And the traffic was always stopped for us when we came home up the Strand, and proceeded down the steps by the side of "the Coal Hole" to the "dismiss." Rude things might be said to us by the crowd, but there was a warm spot in their hearts for us. We just carried on.

Bit by bit we were provided with our uniforms, and we began to fancy ourselves as the real thing. We began to make new friends, and we were drawn closer to those we knew. We came from all over the world. At the call men had come home from the Far East and the Far West. A man who had gone up the Yukon with Frank Slavin, the boxer; another who had been sealing round Alaska; trappers from the Canadians woods; railway engineers from the Argentine; planters from Ceylon; big-game hunters from Central Africa; others from China, Japan, the Malay States, India, Egypt--these were just a few of the Battalion who were ready and eager to shoulder a rifle, and do their bit as just common or garden Tommies. The thought of taking a commission did not enter our minds at the start. Every man was eager to get on with the work, with but a dim thought of what it was going to be like, but worrying not a bit about the future.

In a few weeks the Battalion had learnt how to form fours, to wheel, and to maintain a uniformity of step. Every man was desperately keen; to be late for parade was a great big sin. And this despite the fact that every man had to come into London from all parts of the suburbs, and farther out than that in many instances, by train (paying his own fare) every morning.

So the time went on. Then came the news that we were to go into camp at the Grey Towers, Hornchurch, Essex, and next came the formation of a fatigue party to go on ahead and get things ready for the reception of the Battalion. There was a rush to get into this party as soon as the news went round. Everyone was eager to do something fresh, and, after all, we didn't know what fatigues were in those days. So the party went on ahead.

We who were left kept on with our drills; we even did physical jerks on the slopes of Savoy Street, Strand. Then came the news that we were to march away. That bucked everybody up tremendously, for, to tell the truth, we were really beginning to get tired of the London life. Some of us, who had seen life in various parts of the world previously, were sighing again for the open air. All of us were thinking it was really time we did something to justify our existence. We did not claim to be show soldiers; we wanted to get at it.

All things come to those who wait, however. We were to move to Hornchurch--the first step to active service. We had our uniforms, we even had white gloves, and at last we fell in, by the Hotel Cecil, with a band at our head, and off we went. Funnily enough, some of us felt this break with London more than we felt anything afterwards. It was really our first introduction to "the Great Unknown."

Had the Guards been marching away they could not have had a greater and a more enthusiastic send-off. The streets of the City were packed; it was a struggle to get through. At Liverpool Street we were reduced to a two-deep formation, and even then it became a case of shouldering your way through those who had gathered to wish us "God speed." But we were entrained at last; we detrained at Romford, and we marched to Hornchurch. We were in the camp.

OUR FIRST SURPRISE.--That's when we had the first surprise sprung upon us, for we learnt that the camp would be our home for a whole solid fourteen days. No one was to be allowed to go into the village; we were to begin our course of instruction in discipline. There were a few heart-burnings, but nothing more. The Battalion played up to its ideal.

We were drilled early and late; we were instructed in the art of guard mounting; we peeled potatoes in the cookhouse; we fetched coal from the quartermaster's stores; we fell in to get our rations from the cookhouse; and last, but not least, we began to grouse. That was our first advance to becoming real soldiers. At least, so the author was told by an old N.C.O. who had marched with Roberts to Kabul, and who was again in the Service, too aged to do more than to instruct, but not too aged to do that well.

Hard work and plain but plentiful food soon made the Battalion as hard as nails, a phrase coined by the London _Evening News_, and a phrase that stuck. Quite as important, too, was the fact that a member of the "hard as nails" Battalion had to prove he was capable of acting up to it. So it was just a matter of honour that every man should keep off the sick parades, and not come home in the ambulance when a long route march or a field day was indulged in.

This took a bit of doing sometimes, for there was no mercy shown us. We said we wanted the real thing, and, between ourselves, we got it. A march of seven miles to the scene of operations, a hard field day, and a march of seven miles home again, with pack, rifle, and full equipment in other ways, was our lot. We began to recognize that we were really soldiers, and we patted ourselves on the back.

Sport, too, played a very big part in our training. The Army of to-day recognizes the fact that athletics makes and keeps our youngsters fit and well. Our Colonel recognized it from the start, and as we had plenty of material to work upon we went right away with it. We had a "soccer" team, a "rugger" team, and a cricket eleven. The records of the matches we won, and the fact that very few defeats were notched up against us, proves we had a perfect right to style ourselves "the First Sportsman's Battalion, the 23rd (Service) Battalion Royal Fusiliers."

Scullers, footballers, boxers, runners, wrestlers, actors, musicians, artists--all these could be had for the asking, and we drew upon them liberally. We were given plenty of opportunities to indulge in our passion for sport in the ordinary way, but the private who once asked for leave in order to go grouse shooting didn't get it. It was suggested he might put in a little time at the rifle range instead. No restrictions, however, were put upon any early morning running matches, and the football and cricket teams were helped in every way.

To get back to the purely military side, however. We groused at the amount of drills and night operations, to being hut orderlies, going on guard, and so on. But we did them as a means to an end. Then we had the rudest shock of all. We learnt we were to embark on the task of digging trenches--somewhere in Essex! That put the lid on things, so we considered. We, infantry soldiers, to dig trenches! It couldn't be right. We thought the Engineers, or the Pioneers, or somebody else, always did that. Our job was to carry a rifle, and to shoot Germans. That's how the rank and file looked at it in the first place. Of course they discovered other things when the Battalion got to France, but that's another story.

However, it had to be done and, like everything else, it _was_ done. After an early breakfast, the company detailed fell in and marched off to the station. After a while, a special train arrived and we scrambled in. In the interim, it may be mentioned, packed trains proceeding cityward went by, the passengers cheering us. That passed the time if it did nothing else.

Nearly an hour in the train, a march of perhaps a couple of miles, and we reached our objective. Mysterious personages, with a big "G.R." in gold on scarlet armlets popped up from somewhere, produced plans, and informed our Company Officer that trenches had to be dug at such and such a place. As a rule it was somewhere where the water from an adjacent brook would percolate through the earth and make things uncomfortable. That's by the way, though, and after all it was good practice, this working out a method of trench drainage on our own. As a matter of fact we had a lot of Civil and Colonial Engineers in our ranks, and so we put all the mistakes made by the others right. Whenever possible, of course. One or two things, it must be admitted, beat us.

Sometimes it rained, sometimes it snowed, occasionally, very occasionally, it happened to be fine. But we got on with our work, waiting for the bugler to blow for the midday lunch. When "cookhouse" went we straightened our backs, got _some_ of the mud off our boots, and proceeded to take what the gods (in this case the quartermaster) were good enough to give us. We always had two guesses, and we were always right. It was either bread and cheese, or bread and bully. If we were fortunate we might be able to purchase beer at a local hostelry, or Oxo at a village shop. If not so fortunate, the waterbottle or, if again lucky, a pocket-flask was brought into service.

THE KINDLY SHOPKEEPER.--Digressing for a moment, though, it may be mentioned that the various shopkeepers were always very, very good to us! They always supplied us with what we needed, if they had it, and they never put the prices up to us! At least, not much. For instance, if a resident could buy a pair of bootlaces for a penny, we were only occasionally charged more than threepence. Other things were in proportion, and Essex to-day has quite a lot of nice new shops, unknown before the advent of the First Sportsman's Battalion. It is pleasing to remember that a Navvy Battalion followed us!

To resume the trench digging. As we were later complimented on the quality of the work we did, we must have shone in the way of handling the pick and the spade. At the end of our labours, when the "fall in" was sounded, we were quite ready to say we were looking forward to a hot meal in our huts in camp, where, outside, the breezes whispered through the branches of the trees lining the drive, where the moon silvered the tin roofs of our living quarters, and all was bright and jolly--in the sergeants' mess!

So time sped away, and still we kept on wondering if we were forgotten. We sat by the fires in "stoves, hot, combustion slow," and we told the tale of the two highly placed War Office officials who were discussing the war years after it had finished. One had asked the other how the Sportsman's Battalion had shaped in "the Great Adventure," and then would come the climax. "Good God!" the other would say, "I've forgotten them. They're still at Hornchurch!"

All things have to come to a finish though, and so we found. We had night attacks, some three and four day route marches, even a recruiting march through Barking and its neighbourhood, we did our shooting tests, got through our bayonet exercises, had battalion drill in the early mornings, with a fair amount of ceremonial drill thrown in as a makeweight, and then came the rumour that a real big move was to be made, such a move that the departure for the Front could not be long delayed.

This was the move to Clipstone Camp for brigade training. We had heard so many rumours previously that we did not believe this, the latest, at first. But it was correct, and at last the Battalion, formed up in hollow square, was found on the parade ground at Grey Towers, where the Rector of Hornchurch bade us God speed and good cheer.

A few days later the Battalion, leaving two companies behind as depot companies, entrained at Hornchurch for the new camp at Clipstone.

There it went through brigade training, was equipped with its regimental transport, and afterwards moved to Candahar Barracks, Tidworth, to undergo divisional training with the 33rd Division, of which it formed a part.

Finally, after being reviewed with the Division by Queen Mary, acting in place of His Majesty the King, who was suffering from his accident sustained in France, all was in readiness for the next and biggest move of all.

+-----------------------------------------------------+ | SERVICE OVERSEAS--HEAVY FIGHTING ALL ALONG THE | | FRONT, AND A TRIUMPHAL MARCH INTO GERMANY | +-----------------------------------------------------+

SERVICE OVERSEAS--HEAVY FIGHTING ALL ALONG THE FRONT, AND A TRIUMPHAL MARCH INTO GERMANY

The day of the move overseas arrived. This was on November 15, 1915, when the regimental transport entrained at Tidworth for Havre, followed one day later by the Battalion, which proceeded to Folkestone, Boulogne being reached on November 17, Ostrohove Rest Camp being the first objective. No time, however, was wasted there, for on November 18 the Battalion entrained at Pont-de-Briques, joining the transport which had come up from Havre.

It was at Steenbecque, reached a day later, and where billets were found in barns and farmhouses, that the sound of artillery in action was first heard by the Battalion. Four days were occupied here in sorting things out generally, the companies parading, route marching, and being inspected.

On November 23 a move was made to Busnes, the first part of the route being over badly cut up second-class roads, and the remainder on pavé. The men, the war diary tells us, marching in greatcoats, and carrying blankets, found the march very trying. Billets in the area La Miquellerie were reached at 3 p.m. Distance, 11½ miles.

Then came a very important thing from a soldier's point of view. Pay was drawn from the Field Cashier, and distributed for the first time in France. Next came the notification that in conformation with the policy of re-forming the 33rd and the 2nd Divisions by forming brigades, each consisting of two new battalions and two regular battalions, the 99th Brigade was to lose the 17th and 24th Battalions Royal Fusiliers, receive the 1st Royal Berks and the 1st King's Royal Rifle Corps and join the 2nd Division.

On November 25 the Battalion paraded to march to their new billets at Bethune, being inspected _en route_ by General Walker and the Staff of the 2nd Division. General Walker's opinion was that the 23rd Royal Fusiliers was one of the best battalions he had seen in Bethune.

Still moving, on November 26 the Battalion marched to Annequin, Fosse 9, and owing to the road being frequently shelled, orders were given that seventy-pace intervals should be kept between platoons east of Beuvry. To improve matters, it may be mentioned, there was a heavy fall of snow, and in the portion of the village south of La Basse the majority of the houses were in ruins, the result of frequent bombardments by the enemy.

Then began the first experience of the Battalion in warfare. Before being trusted to hold a line by itself it had to serve an apprenticeship. This was done by attaching, in the first place, platoons, then companies, and then the half-battalion to battalions in the line in order to learn the work and what was expected of them.

During this time much kindness was experienced from the regular battalions to which the attachments were made. The units of the Battalion not doing attachment duty were used for working parties in the trenches and suffered several casualties. No. 2 platoon, right flank company, specially suffered, being caught by shrapnel fire on the Bethune-La Basse road, ten N.C.O.'s and men being wounded.

On December 10 instruction in the use of the gas helmet was given. Every man was required to pass through a hut sprayed with chlorine gas ten times as strong as would be used on ordinary occasions, General Kellett being present while this was being carried out, and himself going through the test.

So things went on until December 19. On that date the Battalion marched to Cambrin support point to relieve the 1st Royal Berks and take over a sector "on its own." In the trenches, No. 1 Company was on the right, adjoining the 1st King's Royal Rifle Corps, No. 2 Company on the left, adjoining the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders, No. 3 Company was in the centre, and No. 4 Company was in support at Annequin (Fosse).

It was a very busy time, for No. 3 Company held command of the sap head at New Crater, a spot where German snipers were particularly troublesome. A gas attack was ordered upon the enemy, but, much to the disappointment of the officers and men, it proved a "wash-out" owing to the breeze dying down at the last moment. On December 21, however, as the wind was favourable, a gas attack took place on a front of about a mile. It was on this day that Captain Cameron, of No. 1 Company, was wounded in the arm by a piece of high-explosive while entering the front line.

Then the Battalion, less No. 4 Company, was relieved by the 1st Royal Berks, and proceeded to reserve billets at Annequin (Fosse) on December 22. Not for complete rest, though, as it is generally understood by the civilian, for working parties had to be detailed; indeed, on December 24 all four companies were out, less sick and those on duty. And, says the war diary, no straw was provided for the billets, no coke, coal, or wood for the drying-room, and no facilities for drying or cleaning clothes.

CHRISTMAS DAY IN THE TRENCHES--On Christmas Day the Battalion paraded for trench duty to relieve the 1st Royal Berks, the trenches taken over being the same as were occupied on December 19-22, with the alteration in disposition that made No. 4 Company replace No. 3 Company in the centre.

There was also a special bombardment on this day, and the Battalion's first patrol, consisting of four men and an officer, went over the parapet, being out in No Man's Land for an hour. During that time the party located a sniper's post, cut out some wire from the enemy's entanglements, and were persistently sniped at themselves, while great difficulty was experienced in maintaining direction.

Then, on Boxing Day, Colonel Lord Maitland was wounded in the knee by a piece of high-explosive while proceeding to the 99th Brigade Headquarters via Cambrin Church.

The German snipers continued their activity, there were intermittent bombardments, several casualties were sustained, and on December 29 the Battalion was relieved by the 18th Royal Fusiliers. Owing to the bad state of the trenches this relief did not take place until 5.10 p.m., although it was due to be effected at 3 p.m.

Still, the Battalion got back to its billets at Annequin (Fosse), and on December 30 marched back to Busnettes for sixteen days' divisional rest. Owing to the very arduous work which had been done since December 19, on this occasion no packs were carried, and only three men fell out in a tiring march of 11¼ miles.

1916.

The New Year opened quietly, the usual rest-time routine of kit inspection, squad drill, route marching, and so on, being indulged in, a draft coming up from the base on January 7, while on January 11 the first leave for officers commenced. Then came a move, and on January 19 the Battalion marched to Le Touret, relieving the 6th Queen's Regiment, the 99th Infantry Brigade taking over a sector of the front at Festubert from the 37th Infantry Brigade.

On January 22 the Battalion relieved the 1st Royal Berks, "B" Company being in reserve in the old British line, "A" Company in support in Richmond Trench, "C" Company in front line Cover Trench and Islands, and "D" Company in front line Orchard Trench. The front line and support line garrisons, it may be noted, had to take up their positions over the top, and so could not be visited in daylight. The position remained the same until the then Kaiser's birthday, on January 27, when although the order for relief was given at 6 p.m., a "stand to" was ordered in anticipation of an attack.

This did not come off, and, the relief by the 24th Royal Fusiliers being effected, the Battalion marched back to Bethune on January 28, where the billets were inspected by General Kellett.

On January 29 Colonel Lord Maitland relinquished the command of the Battalion, temporary command being taken by Major Richey, D.S.O., and Lieutenant-Colonel H.A. Vernon (1st King's Royal Rifle Corps) assumed command on January 31, while Lieutenant Cooper was appointed machine-gun officer in place of Lieutenant Lewis, who had been wounded.

Le Quesnoy was the next move, made on February 3, and relieving the 1st Royal Berks on February 7, the Battalion was in turn moved out of the trenches into the village line Givenchy on the 11th, remaining there until the 15th, when it again relieved the 1st Royal Berks in B3 sub-sector Givenchy. On the 17th the Battalion was relieved by the 16th Royal Welsh Fusiliers and moved to Le Quesnoy, remaining there until the 27th, when it proceeded to Barlin. On February 28 another move was made to Petit Sains, relieving the 22nd Royal Fusiliers, and on the 29th the Battalion took over the Souchez North sector of trenches from the French 77th Infantry Regiment.

From March 1 to March 13 the Battalion held the line at Souchez North in turn with the 1st King's Royal Rifle Corps and on the latter date proceeded to billets at Noulette, returning again to the trenches on the 17th, the Battalion on the left being the 17th Royal Fusiliers, and on the right the 1st Royal Berks. Then on March 28 it moved to La Comte for divisional rest.