CHAPTER II

GIVENCHY AND FESTUBERT

On the 7th of April the Battalion left for Bethune and the forward area. The villagers gave the men a very hearty send-off, for the Civil Service Rifles had thoroughly captured the hearts of all at Cauchy, who had done their best to fête their heroes overnight.

After sleepy Cauchy, Bethune was voted top hole. The shops in the old town were quite Parisian, and every one indulged in dainty but unsatisfying gateaux and steaming bowls of hot chocolate. For the _bon viveurs_ there were excellent dinners in the ancient Hotel du Nord; for the artistic the delicate traceries in the fine old church.

Bethune already showed some scars of the war, and the building in which the Battalion was housed, Le College des Jeunes Filles, had lost most of its windows, but otherwise it made a comfortable billet. Here Lieutenant A. Roberts arrived with thirty other ranks from the Base--evidently O.C. Reinforcements thought it was high time the Civil Service Rifles suffered some casualties. On the following day the Civil Service Rifles made its first acquaintance with the trenches. “A” and “B” Companies were detailed for working parties in support trenches, while to “D” Company fell the honour of being the first Civil Service Rifle Company to go into the front line. It was the good fortune of the Battalion to be initiated in the mysteries of trench warfare by the 4th (Guards) Brigade, and the arrangement was that each Company should go in for twenty-four hours “under instruction” before the battalion held a section of the line alone. “D” Company accordingly joined the 2nd Coldstream and survived their twenty-four hours without loss, but the first battle casualties in the Battalion were suffered by “B” Company, who, with “A” Company, were returning from their working party at Cuinchy, when Privates W. Bartram and H. H. Russell were wounded by a rifle bullet, which passed through the thigh of one man and hit the calf of the other. It is said that the wounded men were deeply concerned on two accounts--they had seen no Germans either alive or dead, and it was pay day and they had not drawn their pay!

There is no doubt that this first visit to the front line was productive of a sense of disappointment. War had, till then, been regarded as a glorious thing, a thing of bugles and flashing bayonets, of courage in hand-to-hand encounters, and above all, of excitement. But this first experience showed it to be a thing of drab monotony, of dull routine, of the avoidance of being killed, of an invisible enemy. And so the letters of these days, which were to have been of enthralling interest, were, instead, just catalogues of the minor duties and details of trench life. Among them, however, is one that cannot but prove of subtle humour to the infantryman of later years--1916 and onwards. An extract is here reproduced.

“You should see the R.E. out in front mending the barbed wire--and when a flare goes up, dropping instantly and looking like sandbags, to be up and working like mad as soon as darkness ensues again--cool beggars they are--odd bullets flying all the time.”

On the other hand, R. W. Softly’s account of the first journey up to the line would not make the soldier of 1918 envy the man of 1915:--

“‘B’ Company had come provided with all kinds of supplies--firewood in abundance--and tied on to most of the packs was a ‘grand pain.’ Though man may live on bread alone I defy him to live solely on Army biscuit. We certainly thought we had reached the limit as beasts of burden, but as we waited at the first communication trench, some Guardsmen passed by. Instead of our modest bundles of firewood, they carried enormous tree branches. Half of them possessed frying pans or braziers, and many of them carried a pair of rubber trench boots so hung round the neck that it looked as if they were carrying on their shoulders a limp individual whose head and trunk were missing. When I add that they also carried picks and shovels, you will understand if we were inclined to regard them as a race of supermen as they filed past us in the setting sun.”

An important event was the taking-over by the whole Battalion, on the 13th of April, of a sector of the line--the real thing at last! Here, indeed, was an event to set the many scribes of the Battalion busy. Of all the experiences of the war, probably none made such a vivid and lasting impression on all ranks in the Regiment, and certainly none was more fully written up by the members as this first tour in the firing line of a Battalion of the Civil Service Rifles. In the light of after events in the war, it was a very quiet and peaceful tour, and probably much the same as the initial experience of many other Battalions, but it was none the less the realisation of all that these men had been training for since the outbreak of war, so it is small wonder that no detail was omitted, so far as the censorship regulations allowed, from the hundreds of descriptive letters sent home at this time. Probably all of them described how the Battalion paraded in Bethune (the names of places are included here, though they were doubtless suitably disguised in those letters home) in full marching order, wearing greatcoats, on the afternoon of April 13th, 1915, and marched via the village of Beuvry to the La Bassée Canal, the latter part of the march being by platoons at 100 yards distance. Here was the old familiar “artillery formation” in real life at last!

Even the landmarks along the side of the Canal received their share of attention, and mention is made of the two pontoon bridges, between which at one point the stiff hind legs of a horse stuck out of the water, of the broken telegraph wires along the Canal bank, and of the ruined buildings just short of Windy Corner, where the mile-long, narrow, winding, brick-paved communication trenches were entered. These had homely names--“Cheyne Walk,” “Battersea Road,” “City Road,” and the dug-outs had such names as “St. Albans Villa,” “Le Petit Riche,” “Funland,” and so on.

Of the many trying journeys of an infantry battalion, none is worse than the “hesitation march” along a communication trench. The floor of the trench is uneven and is full of holes, there are numerous obstructions across the top, causing the weary soldier to go down almost on all fours; there are numerous momentary halts for no apparent reason, and whenever the party does seem to get moving, sure enough the cry will come along, “lost touch in rear.” A few muttered curses as the troops sink down on the bottom of the trench to await the word “all up in rear” when another start is made. It is now found that they have lost touch in front, and the leading men are going “all out” to catch up.

The communication trench leading to the front line at Givenchy was apparently no exception to the rule, as will be gathered from the following account:

“It takes half an hour to trudge up to the firing line, and, if in rear of the platoon, it is exceedingly difficult to keep in touch. No matter how desperately you strive to catch up, the pack of the man in front is always just on the point of disappearing round the corner. Stray shots whizz past from time to time....”

The perspiring troops, having negotiated the communication trench, arrived at last in the front line at Givenchy, and the Battalion relieved the 1st Herts Regiment in the sector known officially as B1, but better known as the Duck’s Bill.

The frontage held was about 400 yards, and the front line was about half a mile in front of Battalion Headquarters and the Battalion Reserve.

Two Companies, “B” and “D,” occupied the front line, and “A” and “C” were in reserve in the ruined houses of Givenchy on both sides of the canal. The village post office was used as Battalion Headquarters with the Signal Station in the cellar.

The tour was a distinctly peaceful and uneventful one, which later on would scarcely have been mentioned in a letter home, but the regimental diary describes it in detail and tells how, after a quiet day, things livened up at night and in the reserve billets “a curious sound is heard every few seconds--smack, smack, as bullets spend themselves on the walls around. These are probably fired by the Germans at our fellows in the trenches, and, going high, hit the houses at a height of perhaps ten feet from the ground. Others, however, are probably fired from fixed rifles at gaps where we are supposed to pass frequently--along the bridge and other places, and a lucky shot might catch one of us. At nine o’clock we are startled by a tremendous explosion. It is one of our big guns, nicknamed ‘Little Willie,’ on a railway mounting. It moves along the railway by the canal, and after firing four or five rounds it wisely goes home.”

The Companies changed round on the second day, and in the evening of the third day the Battalion was relieved by the 1st Herts Regiment, and returned to the college at Bethune. The troops now felt they were real soldiers, though doubtless some were surprised to find that they could spend three days in the line without seeing a German. The only unpleasant feature in an otherwise very satisfactory forty-eight hours in the line was the casualty just before the relief to Private R. Pulman, of “D” Company, who was badly wounded in the head by a bullet. Private Pulman died in hospital in Bethune the following day, and his platoon attended the funeral.

The only other casualties were also in “D” Company--Sergeant G. F. Anderson and Private I. Spielman--both wounded.

The novelty of front line trenches had not yet worn off, and having had a not unpleasant taste of trench life, the troops were quite keen to go in again. So it is recorded that “We had heard a rumour that after doing our forty-eight hours in the trenches we were to return to Cauchy, so we are now pleased when we hear that we are to go again to the trenches to-day (the 19th of April)”.

The second trip to the line was very much like the first one, but on the first morning the Battalion lost one who for many years had served with great distinction. Private A. E. Snellgrove, of “B” Company, who was killed outright by a bullet through the head, had been a crack shot in the Regiment as long ago as the Volunteer days. Although he had left the Regiment some time before the war, he was one of the first men to rejoin in August, 1914. A quiet, modest and unassuming fellow, Private Snellgrove had many friends in the Regiment, to whom his death came as a great shock. He was buried in the Guards’ Cemetery at Givenchy.

The Battalion was holding a section of the line immediately north of the previous sector, and the area now held included what was known as the “Keep” at Givenchy. This was an old farm building with a courtyard in which the Guards had made a flower bed, which they called St. James’s Park. Here were regimental badges of various Guards Regiments worked in box or privet hedging. Not to be outdone, the Civil Service Rifles planted their crest in privet hedging alongside the others.

Two days in this sector, one day’s respite in billets at Le Preol, and then two more days in the former sector B1, brought to a close the first experience of the 140th Infantry Brigade in holding the front line, for on the 24th of April the Brigade was relieved and the Civil Service Rifles marched via Beuvry, Bethune and Chocques to rest billets at the village of La Beuvrière--a village a little larger than Cauchy and a little more pleasantly situated.

The village lay between two well-wooded uplands. Companies were billeted in small farms by the side of main roads and the men slept warmly on straw of suspicious character. As often as not there was a pigsty next door. Battalion Headquarters was in a house in the square next the grey old monastery--then used as a hospital. The parade ground was down the hill over the railway, bounded on one side by a swift-flowing brook good for a dip after a game of football. A favourite morning’s training was to steer a way by compass through the thick undergrowth of a wood, six square miles in area, to the east of the village.

The troops now felt quite familiar with the trenches, and were glad to have an opportunity of talking over their experiences in the comparative comfort of the estaminets. As there had been no further casualties there was a fairly cheerful atmosphere to greet the remainder of the first reinforcement--twenty-eight N.C.O.’s and men who joined from Havre on the 27th of April. The Battalion had, however, lost a good many men through sickness--an outbreak of measles being the chief cause. Already two officers, Lieutenants Radice and Benké, had returned to England through sickness, and, in addition, 2nd Lieutenant F. J. Smith, “A” Company, was so badly injured in a football match at La Beuvrière on the 2nd of May against the Post Office Rifles, that he had to return to England. The loss of Frank Smith was keenly felt in the Battalion, of which he had been a member since 1906. As a sergeant in “B” Company he was very popular, both with his brother N.C.O.’s and with the men. He was a thorough sportsman in every way, and his appointment to a commission in the Regiment only about a month before was very popular with all ranks.

It was while at La Beuvrière that the Battalion received for each Company a travelling kitchen. Hitherto cooking had been done in the camp kettle, or “dixie,” and there had been very little variety in the meals. After a long march, there was always a tedious waiting for meals, but the “Company Cooker” was to revolutionise that, for dinners could be cooked on the march--and what is more, they were. So the infantryman salutes the inventor of the “Company Cooker.”

After nearly a fortnight’s rest the Division went back to war, and the Civil Service Rifles, pausing for one night in very dirty reserve billets at the village of Gorre, found themselves on the 9th of May on the fringe, as it were, of the battle of Festubert, where they were holding the intermediate line of breastworks, behind the 6th London Regiment.

Although Festubert was not a battle of such magnitude as the operations of 1916 and later, it was an event of no small importance at the time. The first attack was delivered on the 9th of May with the object, ultimately, of gaining the Aubers Ridge--which dominates Lille and La Bassée. The battle went on intermittently for some days and in the end was not successful.

But although the Battalion held a kind of “watching brief” during this battle, recollections of Festubert are not by any means pleasant. The ground was so marshy that it was impossible to dig trenches, and the line hereabouts was held by a series of sandbagged barricades, approached by two roads (Willow Road and Yellow Road) devoid of any kind of cover. Having negotiated these roads, the men of the front line of barricades were little, if any, better off than those in support at the so-called Welsh Chapel, while the Reserve Company “billets” between Welsh Chapel and Le Plantin could not be called healthy.

It was at Festubert that the Battalion first became acquainted with the realities of war, and although the men were employed practically throughout in holding the line, burying the dead, and on working and carrying parties, with a little patrol work thrown in, there were many gallant deeds done, and at the same time many gallant fellows were lost.

The most vivid impression of Festubert is associated with the enormous number of dead, who were not only lying about the ground, but in some places actually formed the barricades. It was often necessary for the members of burying parties to wear the primitive gas masks, and it was here that “Paddy” Brett, the C.S.M. of “D” Company, a man in his forty-third year, smoked for the first time in his life.

The actual number of dead buried by the Civil Service Rifles in this area is not known, but a very reasonable estimate puts it at 350 in three days.

The survivors of “B” Company, in particular, have most unpleasant recollections of the night when they had to crawl over piles of corpses in order to go forward to occupy an advanced position.

Among other incidents of Festubert, mention should be made of the scouting and patrolling done almost nightly by 2nd Lieutenants W. E. Ind and F. F. Trembath, Sergeant B. K. Ware, Lance-Corporal G. C. G. Andrews, and Privates R. W. Kelley and T. Taylor. The work of patrolling No Man’s Land was not at this time so simple and commonplace as it became later on, and the patrolling done by these men is mentioned specially, not because it was the first time it had been done in the Battalion, but because more than at any other time it was done in earnest, and was productive of really useful information.

But although the first day of the battle was uneventful so far as the Civil Service Rifles were concerned, it must not be imagined that no fighting at all was done at Festubert. For it was here that the first decorations for gallantry in the field were awarded to men of the Battalion. On the night of the 25th of May, eight bombers were sent to the assistance of the Post Office Rifles in an attempt to clear a trench. After a stubborn fight the position was captured, but of the eight bombers only four returned alive, and two of these were wounded. The excellent work of these four was recognised by the award to each of them of the D.C.M. These were thus the first members of the Regiment to receive decorations in this war:--

Private W. H. Brantom, “B” Co. Private H. Harris, “A” Co. Private S. Lawrence, “C” Co. Private S. W. Mills, “A” Co.

The four who were killed were Privates W. S. Curtis, “B” Company; A. J. F. Tracey, “D” Company; P. A. L. Madell, “D” Company; and A. N. Sharp, “C” Company.

On the same night Lieutenant R. Chalmers, known affectionately as “Cissie,” was in charge of a working party of “B” Company digging in No Man’s Land, when he had occasion to take out a small patrol. He came across a party of bombers of the Post Office Rifles who were short of bayonet men. Without a moment’s hesitation, Lieutenant Chalmers picked up a rifle and bayonet from a man who had become a casualty, and joining the bombers, rallied them on the parapet to resist an enemy “rush.” He was soon in the thick of the fight and, while gallantly leading this party of strangers, he received two bullet wounds which afterwards proved fatal. Like the unselfish fellow he had always been, he ordered the stretcher-bearers to attend to the other wounded first. When he himself was afterwards carried back, he died in hospital at the village of Chocques.

It is difficult indeed to do justice to Lieutenant Chalmers. He had only just joined the Regiment when war broke out, but from the first he proved himself a real enthusiast, thoroughly unselfish, and ever ready to volunteer for any work--however unpleasant. He became a great favourite with the N.C.O.’s and men who served under him, and his death was keenly felt by his many friends in the Regiment. He had already been commended by the Commanding Officer for good work in the front line on three occasions, and his behaviour at the time when he was mortally wounded was typical of one of the bravest fellows any Battalion could wish for.

The 25th of May was indeed a bad day for the Battalion for, in addition to Lieutenant Chalmers and the bombers before mentioned, many of the stalwarts were killed or wounded on that day. Captain A. E. Trembath,[12] O.C. “C” Company, who had served with great distinction in the South African War, was killed in helping one of his wounded officers (Lieutenant F. C. Olliff). It was an unfortunate affair for “C” Company, who also lost old friends in Lance-Sergeant J. Smith (killed) and Lieutenant A. C. Bull (wounded) at the same time. “C” Company having already lost more than their share of old stagers in this area could ill afford to lose any of these, and another who had had long service in the Company was Lance-Corporal Battersby--well known for his football and long distance running--who was so severely wounded on the 17th of May that he lost an eye.

[12] Captain Allen Edward Trembath, born 22nd October, 1879, joined 12th Middlesex before the Boer War, transferred to Middlesex Yeomanry, 1899. South Africa mentioned in despatches, D.C.M.; later, wounded and invalided. Granted commission Middlesex Yeomanry; returned to South Africa till end of war. 1914 rejoined Civil Service Rifles, later taking a commission.

The “C” Company losses by no means exhaust the Battalion’s chapter of accidents, for “B” Company lost one of the finest men in the Battalion in Lance-Corporal G. S. Scarr, who died on the 26th of May in hospital at Chocques from wounds received on the previous night. Lance Corporal Scarr was well known throughout the Battalion for many years for his pure unselfishness and nobility of character. He was a man who always played for his side and not for himself.

It was at Chocques, too, that Lieutenant H. R. E. Clark, the Battalion Machine Gun Officer, died of wounds received on the 24th of May. He had joined the Battalion soon after the outbreak of war, and had quickly won the confidence and respect of the men whom he led so well. The loss of Lieutenant Clark was a particularly sad blow for his father, Lieutenant and Quartermaster W. H. D. Clark, who for many years had been such an enthusiastic worker for the good of the Regiment. The hearts of all ranks went out to him in sincere sympathy in his very sad bereavement.

_To face page 66._

Amid so many bitter memories it is good to have one incident of an amusing nature, and the story of the capture by “B” Company, assisted by a platoon of “D” Company, of what became known afterwards as “Civil Service Trench,” affords the one note of comic relief in the dismal story of Festubert. The gallant charge was led at dead of night by Major H. V. Warrender (who was then commanding “B” Company), ably supported by the veteran Robb, who was in charge of the Company Officer’s Mess. Robb, it is said, was armed with a Primus stove, but it is not known whether this was meant for a miniature flammenwerfer attack or whether it was to ensure a hot meal for his Company Commander on arrival at the objective! Any hopes of V.C.’s in the Company were doomed to disappointment, for the trench when reached was found to be deserted, save by the few corpses that had been left behind. So at last an operation was undertaken without a casualty, and shortly after this the merry (!) month of May came to an end, and the Battalion said good-bye to Festubert--the land of mud, blood and stench!