CHAPTER IX

THE TREK

During its career in France, the Civil Service Rifles have frequently moved over long distances by route march--a practice known as “trekking”--but the great march of 1916 seems so to have dwarfed all other performances of a similar nature, that it is always referred to simply as “the trek,” and it is agreed by all who took part in it, that the trek was one of the most enjoyable experiences the Civil Service Rifles had during the war.

At the same time the period was one of the most strenuous, the daily programme of work being sometimes so crowded that it hardly seemed worth while to go to bed. The Divisional Commander was evidently a firm believer in early rising, for réveillé was often sounded at the early hour of 3.30 a.m.

The route from the mining district to the valley of the Somme was distinctly roundabout, and for the first two or three weeks of the trek the Division got farther and farther away from its destination, until eventually it came to rest near the coast in the Abbéville district.

A pleasant march on the first day brought the Civil Service Rifles to the village of Houdain, where Lieutenant G. G. Bates organised a very successful Mess Dinner for officers at the Café du Centre, and on the following day, after a short march, the village of Valhuon, near St. Pol, was reached, where four enjoyable days were spent in lovely summer weather. The weather, indeed, was a little too summer-like on the day of the march from Valhuon to Croisette. Not only was it so far the hottest day of the year, but the march took place during the hottest time of the day, and when Croisette was reached at 3.30 p.m. many had fallen by the wayside. Other units of the Division had similar experiences, and hereafter early rising was the order of the day, réveillé generally being sounded about an hour before dawn so that training could be finished before the heat of the day.

A common occurrence during the marches on the trek was the failure to observe the infantryman’s most valuable charter--ten minutes’ halt in every hour. The marches were usually by Brigades, and the starting point was often a mile or so away from the billeting area. For some strange reason the march to the starting point was wont to be hurried, and what should have been the first halt was omitted altogether.

Towards the end of the march, again, the leading Battalion, on approaching the village in which it was to be billeted, would often cut out the halt as the appointed time was reached, and go straight on to the billets. The succeeding Battalions on such occasions would follow like sheep, irrespective of whether they were billeted in the same village or in another one two or three miles farther on.

In these circumstances it is not surprising that marches which on paper looked nothing out of the ordinary were found to be very arduous and trying, and men were frequently guilty of the “crime” of falling out on the march.

At first early rising was voted a success by all ranks, but when an afternoon parade was introduced and later an evening parade just to fill up the day, the troops began to feel that though it was “nice to get up in the morning,” it was certainly “nicer to stay in bed.”

A day’s rest at Croisette was followed by a march to Fortel, where, during a four days’ stay, a delightful bathing place was discovered in the swift-flowing, icy cold waters of the River Canche. “A” and “D” Companies and the Lewis gunners have happy recollections of this stream, for the most part of the two hours’ route march by Companies which formed part of the daily programme was spent in and around the bathing place.

The 4th of August at Conteville was marred by the sudden introduction of an evening parade. The move from Fortel had taken place in the early hours of the morning, and after a very short march Conteville was reached at about 10.0 a.m. The troops were still congratulating themselves on their luck when the order came round that all units in the Division would at once start to practise an attack on a wood or village.

The wandering life was resumed on the 5th of August, when the Division moved to the training area near Abbéville, the Civil Service Rifles being billeted in the little village of Drucat. The Division now settled down to serious work, and for three weeks the troops trained strenuously every day. It is interesting to note that the Division trained for its share in the battle of the Somme near the historic battlefield of Crécy.

But although there was much hard work and the billets at Drucat were poor--so poor that in many cases both officers and men slept in gardens or fields--and the inhabitants inclined to be hostile, memories of August 1916 are among the happiest of the war.

A great drawback, however, was the scarcity of beer. The estaminets in the village had none at all, nor did they attempt to get any, for they were thus able to get rid of their stock of atrocious wines. The Regimental Canteen eventually came to the rescue by securing a supply of beer from Abbéville.

The weather at first was all that could be desired, and bathing was indulged in daily. At the end of the fields occupied by the Lewis gun section and the Transport lines ran a narrow, shallow stream. The men of the Transport section, by damming the stream with a wall of filled sandbags, managed to construct a pool just big enough for a man to plunge in, and the bathing pool was thoroughly appreciated by officers and men alike.

A number of N.C.O.’s and men were allowed to go to Abbéville each day, and a merry day in the old French town usually ended with the hiring of antiquated “voitures” for the journey home. The said “voitures” were invariably driven by members of the Civil Service Rifles, the lawful owners or drivers always being willing to hand over the reins, and many were the chariot races run on the road from Abbéville to Drucat by rival parties from the Civil Service Rifles, the winning post being the Company parade ground, where the races ended just as the Company was on parade for roll call.

Cricket was played in the Lewis gun field, where, also, an al fresco concert was given one day by a concert party sent by Miss Lena Ashwell. The weather was most unkind that day, but the spirits of the concert party, like those of the troops, were not to be squashed by the rain, and the artistes, five charming English ladies and two gentlemen, gallantly stuck it until the deluge became so terrific that the noise of it drowned the efforts of the whole party to sing “Chalk Farm to Camberwell Green.”

What testimony to the attractiveness of the party could be more eloquent than the simple fact that none of the audience left the field! The appreciation of the audience was not limited to the performance. It was a rare and refreshing feast to see those five pretty English girls, especially to those, and they were many, who had not been privileged to see an English girl for more than a year. Moreover, the Civil Service Rifles were told that they were the first real fighting troops to be entertained by these ladies, who had hitherto had to content themselves with entertaining those whose duties kept them at the Base.

Colonel Warrender thanked the artistes in his most delightful style and expressed the sentiments of all ranks when he said that it was the most enjoyable concert that had ever been given to the Battalion.

While at Drucat the Battalion received a consignment of what at first were thought to be toy bread-carts, such as are used in London suburbs. But on inquiry it was found that these were the new “Hand Carts, Lewis Gun,” intended to replace the limbers.

These little carts were first “tried out” on the departure from Drucat on the 20th of August with disastrous results. The shafts broke before the first halt, and ere long each team of Lewis gunners was stripped to the waist, their clothes and equipment piled high on to the carts while they tugged and pushed at their vehicles, gallantly struggling to keep up with the Battalion. But in spite of these determined efforts they were all very badly “tailed off.”

The route march concluded with an outpost scheme, and in the evening the Civil Service Rifles were billeted in Villers Sous Ailly, a pretty little village, conspicuous for the excellent spirit of hospitality shown by the inhabitants--a welcome change from recent experiences. The only regret about Villers was that the Battalion had to leave the next morning.

The farce of the Lewis gun handcarts was continued, and in spite of a great display of inventive genius by the Lewis gunners, they were quite unable to keep up with the Battalion. Perhaps the best suggestion was that of the man who said the Lewis gunners should take turns at carrying the carts on their backs!

It was said the carts had passed a severe test in the courtyard of the War Office and had been found to run smoothly when empty.

Leaving Villers Sous Ailly, two uncomfortable nights were spent at Naours and Mirvaux (considered by many to be the most dilapidated village in Europe outside the “forward area,” and where one man pushed a whole wall down by simply leaning against it!), and on the 23rd of August the 140th Infantry Brigade reached Franvillers, near the Amiens-Albert road. Here there appeared to be a concentration of all the flies on the Western front, and it was thought that these were to take part in a new form of attack!

Franvillers and district was used as a kind of “finishing school” for troops in training for any particular phase of the battle of the Somme in 1916, and as it was fairly near to the battlefield, it had become an unusually busy centre. Troops from all parts of the United Kingdom seemed to have passed through and every available inch of space was used for billets. The billets, owing chiefly to overcrowding, were very uncomfortable and very dirty, and the natives were beginning to get tired of the troops.

The training was of the very strenuous type--drills before breakfast, attack practice after breakfast, musketry and digging in the afternoon, and route march in the evening. It was now known that the attack which was being practised daily over a taped course was to be on a certain wood, but the name of the wood was so far kept secret.

But in spite of this crowded programme, there were some who found time for trips to Amiens, and there were many who enjoyed the excellent bathing in a natural pool in the Ancre at Heilly, a village south of the Amiens-Albert road.

It was at Franvillers that Sergeant R. F. M. Bigby earned the gratitude of his comrades by securing an issue of rum for all. According to his story he was drinking beer in an estaminet, when the Regimental Medical Officer came in on a tour of inspection, accompanied by the A.D.M.S. A mild outbreak of enteric in the Division was causing the medical fraternity some anxiety at the time, and efforts were being made to discover the cause of it. The A.D.M.S. asked Sergeant Bigby what he was drinking, but, on being informed, instead of ordering any, as Bigby had expected, the doctor inquired about the quality of it. The gallant sergeant assured the medicos that the quality was poor, but that if followed by a ration of rum there were no ill effects. On the contrary, a ration of rum at night, especially during bad weather and in bad billets, had been found to be a pretty sure prevention against enteric, which complaint, added Bigby--as the medicos were doubtless aware--was getting rather troublesome at Franvillers. But then, there had not been an issue of rum so far in that village, so could one be surprised?

When, very shortly after this interview, a ration of rum was issued to the troops, there were few in the Division who did not acclaim the name of Bigby!

Early in September it became known that the 47th Division was to attack the German positions in and around High Wood--positions which had already been captured by more than one Division, but afterwards retaken by the Germans, who, throughout six weeks of heavy fighting, had resisted all attempts to dislodge them permanently. To the Civil Service Rifles were allotted the first German lines in the wood itself, with the 7th Battalion on their right and the 17th Battalion on their left. Henceforth there was a state of suppressed excitement in the Battalion, and all ranks took the very keenest interest in the full dress rehearsals over a marked-out battlefield, which occupied the last days of training at Franvillers. These “shows” were attended by the whole Division, including Artillery, Trench Mortars, and the contact aeroplanes attached to the Division, and the attack was practised with zero at every possible hour of the day or night.

By the time Franvillers was left, on the 12th of September, every man understood what he had to do and where he had to go in the battle.

A few privileged persons had been to see a demonstration of the great secret of the war--the Caterpillars, as they were called in those days, also frequently referred to at this time as the “Hush! Hush!” These new engines of warfare, which soon became known as Tanks, were to make their first bow to the public by assisting in the attack on High Wood, where two of them were eventually allotted to the Civil Service Rifles in place of an artillery barrage.

After leaving Franvillers, the Battalion took the fine Route Nationale to Albert, “a city of empty and ruined houses, some occupied by our troops, others barred and bolted as if a very plague had taken off the population.” The Civil Service Rifles passed right under the shadow of the ruined cathedral with the gilded Madonna and Child hanging face downwards from the top of the steeple. From Albert the Battalion marched to Becourt Wood and relieved the 2nd Royal Sussex in what looked like a big rubbish tip, remaining there in reserve until the 14th.

The scene which met the eye after passing through Albert has been recorded by Corporal De Ath, who was attached to the 140th Trench Mortar Battery.

“I shall never forget the sight that met our eyes on the other side of the town,” writes De Ath. “It took us some time to realise that we were looking on what was to us, an almost incredible and unheard of thing--a vast armed camp just behind the trenches and well within shell fire. As far as the eye could see there were miles of tents, bivouacs, limbers and horse lines. Huge dumps of supplies and ammunition covered the ground, and between them, in any old corner, were the big guns--huge monsters roaring incessantly and devouring the great piles of shells stacked around. Everywhere were scenes of the greatest activity, and one could only rub one’s eyes and gasp at this astounding spectacle. The colossal cheek of that great camp rather shocked us, but there it was, unconcerned and undisturbed, thanks to our magnificent aircraft, constantly patrolling above with never an enemy plane daring to do likewise.

“We pitched our bivouacs on the crest of a ridge just behind the old front line, and to the left of Becourt Wood. From that high point we got a good view of the surrounding country. At our feet the usual flotsam and jetsam of abandoned trenches with their tangled heaps of barbed wire. Away behind us was the wooded country-side which came as a change after the drab monotonous scenery of the Flemish Flats. Closer at hand the ruined Cathedral caught one’s eye.

“But away in front, in the wake of the advance, the picture was entirely different. It was a scene of desolation--a desert of low ridges, scarred and marked by blurred lines of chalk trenches and shell holes. Here and there a few jagged tree stumps stood out, but nearly every feature of the landscape had been swept away by the furious pounding of our shells.

“All along the sky line our heavy shells and shrapnel were bursting continually, so that the smoke never ceased. Now and again it would slacken only to break out again with double intensity. Behind and around us the ‘Heavies’ boomed and roared, whilst in front in every little valley and hollow, even in the open without pretence of cover, our 18-pounders snapped and barked viciously, alternating with the deeper notes of the 4·5’s and the 60-pounders. Between whiles one heard the heavy ‘crump’ of the Hun shells.

“A confused blur showed where a village once stood, but only a heap of rubble and dust was left, revealed more often than not by the junction of several roads. In the dip below lay Fricourt, to the left Thiepval and Pozieres where bloody fights raged on July 1st. Further away the green mass of Mametz Wood, still providing excellent cover in spite of the thinning out it had undergone. Further on lay Contalmaison, Montauban and the Bazentins, with Delville Wood to the right, and there on the crown of the ridge a little bunch of tree stumps marked the wood that was to be our goal, the key to the desperate game that we were to play on the morrow. The country seemed surprisingly difficult. A series of low hills and ridges plentifully dotted with woods and villages and traversed by numerous sunken roads, culminated in the ridge which overlooked the plain of Bapaume. Most of that ridge was already ours, but in many places the enemy still hung out with stubborn tenacity. It looked terrible country to fight through--naturally strong and made almost impregnable by German science and skill.

It was realised that the Civil Service Rifles were about to go through the most severe test in their history, by the side of which Festubert, Loos, and even Vimy Ridge would be insignificant. The thorough training which had just been completed, however, had filled all ranks with confidence, and the great Somme trek, which ended on the 14th of September with the relief of the 1st Surrey Rifles in the front line trenches in High Wood, brought to a close a period of training which for really strenuous work has never been beaten. Some, in fact, allege that the Division was overtrained at this time, and that the “finishing school” at Franvillers had nearly finished them off. But in spite of these allegations, it is believed that the Battalion had never been better prepared for battle.