CHAPTER V.

TRENCH WARFARE IN THE SALIENT: October 1st, 1916, to July 14th, 1917.

On the 1st October we left MANANCOURT and entrained at EDGE HILL, arriving in billets at L’ETOILE at 11 p.m. The following day we marched to LONGPRE, where we entrained for POPERINGHE, where we were billeted for the night. The next day we marched to BRANDHOEK, where we were in huts for the next few days, furnishing a daily working party to dig a cable trench near RIGERSBERG CHATEAU. During this period Second Lieutenant G. Duerden joined us again, and the following Officers as reinforcements:--Captain A. Walsh, Second Lieutenants G. Tong, F. C. Jenkinson, V. Mather, A. O. Knight, I. Haworth, F. L. Vernon, E. G. Faber, A. Bardsley, A. Ashton, E. E. Tweedale, H. Holden, H. Swaine, R. V. Reed, B. H. Williams, J. E. Ordish, R. Bissett, J. H. Ogden, and H. K. Vipond.

During these days we did Company training, in preparation for our debut in the SALIENT.

THE SALIENT! How can one hope to describe it so as to bring home its realities to those who have never seen it? Yet without some such description the history of the next few months would be about as informative as the stereotyped official bulletin, “On the rest of the Front there was nothing to report.”

Picture then POPERINGHE, a typical Belgian town, with here and there a house partly demolished by shell fire, crawling with troops of all kinds, with shops, restaurants, and estaminets, sprinkled with English notices, such as “Divisional Headquarters,” “Wind Dangerous,” “Officers’ Club,” “Divisional Canteen,” and so on. This was our centre of civilisation. Beyond it stretched eastwards the YPRES road, fringed at first with tall trees and a sprinkling of houses, and peopled with troops, lurries, guns, limbers--coming and going, twelve kilometres of it, with deep ditches on either side, and beyond them fields which had once been cultivated but were now given over to “dumps,” camps, battery positions, and so on, a few fields being still under cultivation by women and old men.

After six kilometres we come to VLAMERTINGHE, badly knocked about, but with a certain number of houses still standing and used by our troops; a thin slice of the tower of the church remaining to give the Hun a range mark; from this point the road is under enemy observation, and one begins to notice shell holes and broken trees becoming more frequent as we near YPRES railway station, to which trains still run, but only at night with all lights out, drawn very slowly and silently by a mysterious engine which shuts off steam and proceeds by electricity or something of the kind as it nears YPRES.

Standing on the “platform” at YPRES station at night, you see the enemy flares going up all round you except on the west, and you realise that you are indeed in “The Salient.”

The city of YPRES itself, which at first sight seems like a jumble of ruins, you find presently to contain hiding-places for dozens of guns and hundreds of troops; whole streets of houses remain standing, mostly minus windows or doors. By day, the streets are almost deserted; by night, though no lights are shown, the city is alive with parties of troops, mule-drawn limbers, waggons, and motor lurries, bringing up rations and ammunition and the baggage of incoming Battalions.

All these come along the road from VLAM after dusk, and when things are in full swing the road is a wonderful sight--mile after mile of mixed Army vehicles tightly packed along both sides, the middle full of marching troops. Sometimes motionless, sometimes crawling cautiously on in the dark, sometimes disturbed by a shell falling and killing a few men or a mule or smashing up a lurry in its crashing burst, hour by hour the stream goes on, the very life-blood of the Infantry in the Salient.

From YPRES to the front line was at this time about two miles, first by road, then tracks, then trenches or breastworks, through wrecked and ruined country, weedgrown and desolate.

Each Battalion held a “sub-sector” of the line, Battalion Headquarters being in some group of dugouts or ruined chateau about a mile behind the front line with the reserve and support Companies somewhat nearer, and two front line Companies. In addition to the Infantry Battalions, there were posts held by machine guns, this weapon having been taken out of the hands of the infantry, trench mortar sections, and other details doing various jobs.

The country in general is rather like HUNDRED END, the soil being like the Lancashire clay, but wetter and stickier.

On the 15th we moved up to YPRES, where we were billeted in the RAMPARTS. These RAMPARTS billets merit a special description. The city is guarded on the east and south by a rampart and moat, the rampart being about 50 feet high, and of equal thickness and formed of earth taken out when the moat was dug, faced with brick on the outside and crowned with trees.

Under this mines had been made, stuffy, cramped places full of frames and props and dimly lit with electric light, generally overcrowded and always damp and rat-infested, but still places where the Battalion in Brigade reserve could lie down and sleep in comparative safety, except for the danger of gas. To the south of the MENIN GATE, an ugly gap in the ramparts through which the MENIN ROAD issued from the city and where it was never safe to linger, was one of such mines usually occupied by two Companies, to the north a similar one and the Officers’ dugouts, Battalion Headquarters being further back in the city. On the night of a relief, men would arrive in small parties in the pitch dark and stumble along the street, which was always a foot deep in mud, till they found the gas sentry, when they would disappear within the dark entry with a grunt of relief.

During the next few days working parties went up the line every night, and on the evening of the 19th we relieved the 1/4th King’s Own in the RAILWAY WOOD sector.

RAILWAY WOOD had once been, as the name implies, a wood beside the MENIN railway; when we made its acquaintance it was just a churned-up, slimy bit of rising ground, approached by a decent communication trench called WEST LANE crossing the muddy BELLEWARDEBEEK, beyond which were the breastworks and dugouts and cookhouses forming BEEK Trench, a mass of slime and rotten sandbags which it was part of our job to drain, duckboard, and rivet with corrugated iron. As nearly every trench in the Salient was in a like state, and repairs were soon spotted and strafed by the Hun, and as every available man was daily employed in repairs, et cetera, it will be seen that “Old Bill’s” opinion, that the war would only end “when the whole of Belgium had been put into sandbags,” had much to justify it.

Going up to the front line from BEEK Trench on a dark night was no picnic. You started along a narrow alley winding uphill, your hands feeling the slimy sandbag walls, your feet wary for broken duckboards; now and again a hot, stuffy smell, a void space in the wall, and the swish of pumped-up water under foot proclaimed the entrance to a mine. Gradually the sandbag walls got higher and the alley narrower, and in places you stumbled into daylight where the trench had been blown in and got covered with blue slime wallowing across the block; round corners you dived under narrow tunnels two or three feet high, finally emerging into the comparative open of the front line trench.

When we were in Brigade reserve in YPRES, the working parties sent out at night often had this journey to do, after a two mile tramp and heavily laden with shovels, duckboards, barbed wire, and so on, but there was no falling-out, and little grousing.

A feature of this sector was the craters and shell-hole posts out in the open in front, garrisoned by small parties of men; there they lay--cold, wet, and sleepy--for hours on end, visited at intervals by an Officer or N.C.O.

On the 20th Captain Ord was appointed Commandant of the 164th Brigade Officers’ School, and Major A. H. Haslam joined us. On the 22nd 16 “Minnies” fell on our front line, wounding Second Lieutenant J. F. Walmsley and J. H. Ogden; the following night we were relieved by the 1/5th King’s Liverpool Regiment and went back to YPRES to the PRISON and MAGAZINE billets. These two buildings had not been greatly damaged, and the MAGAZINE was fairly shell-proof. We sent the usual nightly working parties up the line till the 27th, when we relieved the 1/4th King’s Own in WEILTJE sector, to the north of RAILWAY WOOD; here the Hun was further off and things were a bit more comfortable.[F] Second Lieutenants Reed, Tong, Vipond, and Vernon were posted to other Battalions on the 29th. The tour was quiet on the whole, and on the 31st a piece of the enemy’s parapet fell in, giving our snipers a splendid chance--they claimed three certain hits. That night we were relieved by the 1/5th King’s Own and marched back to C Camp, a collection of wooden huts distributed in a roadside copse near BRANDHOEK, a little bit of Heaven to weary and sodden men coming out of the line. Here we could sleep and feed in peace, do refitting, physical jerks and parades, and play football.

During the month no less than three Officers and 55 men had gone sick and been sent to Field Ambulance (also known as “Fanny Adams”)--for which the change to the Flanders clay was no doubt largely responsible.

We remained at C Camp till the 8th November, when we moved up to YPRES again and were billeted in the RAMPARTS and the SCHOOL; the latter was a large building on the MENIN ROAD outside the city and made a decent billet till the gunners put a large gun in it, with the usual sequel.

During the next three days we sent a working party of 250 up the line every night. Major Crump rejoined the Battalion on the 11th.

On the 12th we relieved the 1/4th King’s Own in the RAILWAY WOOD sector, B and C Companies being in the front line, A and D in support in BEEK Trench. Captain Houghton rejoined the Battalion.

On the night of the 13th the moon shone beautifully and disclosed our wiring party to the Hun about 100 yards off. Second Lieutenant Higson was hit; the next night our Lewis guns retorted on Hun working parties.

Every day brought its ration of “Minnies,” shells and bullets, and someone got hit; Second Lieutenant Walton was killed by a sniper’s bullet on the 16th. The sniper was promptly shot by one of ours.

On the 17th, at 11 p.m., for half an hour, we strafed the Boche with guns, heavy and Stokes’ trench mortars and rifle grenades, to stir him up--the usual tactics of the 55th Division; he retaliated feebly and wounded only one man; a fighting patrol then went out, but found no Hun about.

On the 18th, at 8 45 a.m., 18 heavy “Minnies” fell on B Company, wounding two men; our guns retaliated--they always did for “Minnies”--to discourage them. I think we all hated and feared the “Minnie” more than anything, chiefly on account of the deafening, nerve-shattering effect of the explosion; if you watched you could see them coming over like an oil-drum describing slowly a parabola in the air--and could dodge them and watch the fall from a safe distance, then a pause, then CRRRAAASH! and up went sandbags, earth, wood, iron, and sometimes men, leaving a crater of raw crumbly earth to be dealt with as soon as might be.

In the evening we were relieved by the 1/5th King’s Liverpool Regiment, and straggled systematically back to YPRES--billeted this time in the Prison and Magazine.

The Officers now with the Battalion were as follows:--

Lieutenant-Colonel R. Hindle, Commanding. Major Crump, Second in Command. Second Lieutenant R. N. Buckmaster, Adjutant. Second Lieutenant Burnside, Transport. Lieutenant Bardsley, Quartermaster. Second Lieutenant Lowe, Lewis Guns. Second Lieutenant Mather, Bombs. Second Lieutenant Williams, Sniping and Intelligence.

Captain A. T. Houghton } Captain A. Walsh } Second Lieutenant Tyldesley } A Company. Second Lieutenant Bissett } Second Lieutenant Cooper }

Captain F. S. Baker[G] } Second Lieutenant Agostini } B Company. Second Lieutenant Robinson } Second Lieutenant H. Holden }

Captain Hore } Lieutenant Tautz } C Company. Second Lieutenant R. Hall } Second Lieutenant Ashcroft }

Captain Matthew } Lieutenant Howarth } Second Lieutenant Holmes } D Company. Second Lieutenant Brown }

The next five days were spent in cleaning up and bathing--a ceremony in which a whole Company filed into an old building labelled “Divisional Baths,” handed in their underclothing, stood in tubs under a trickle of warm water and washed as best they might, receiving “clean” clothes in return, and came away cleaner and fresher men. The inverted commas in the last sentence are a tribute to the longevity and indestructibility of the louse, or “chat,” and her eggs; no process was ever discovered by which they could be extirpated, except “handpicking.” (Some people may think this reference a little indelicate, but this is a truthful record.)

The usual nightly working parties went up the line, until, on the 24th, we relieved the 1/4th King’s Own in the WIELTJE Sector. A and D Companies were in the front line, C Company in support in “New X Line,” and B in reserve, Battalion Headquarters being at POTIJZE CHATEAU.

The relief started badly, a “Minnie” strafe during the morning having blown in the front line in several places, incidentally blowing a Company Commander out of his dugout; the strafing went on all afternoon, but luckily ceased at dusk, and the relief passed off without incident.

This sector was a distinct improvement on RAILWAY WOOD. The Hun was about 400 yards away, and there was consequently hardly any trench mortar activity and no mining, but the wire was thin, the drainage bad, and the Company Headquarters mere shanties, while most of the sentry posts had to make shift with a groundsheet for sleeping accommodation, the old traverses and dugouts having been knocked in and never repaired. The reserve Company in CONGREVE WALK was more comfortable, being well hidden in dead ground, and their trench was clean and dry--a nice change after their tour in the worst bit of RAILWAY WOOD.

That night was quiet, and our patrols and wirers were busy in No Man’s Land; rain fell during the night, and breakfasts were very late in the morning.

The following description of a typical day in the front line is for the edification of those who have never been there; how we longed to bring some of our stay-at-home acquaintances out there and rub their noses in Flanders mud--the real stay-at-homes, the profiteer, C.O., agitator, striker--the folk who, in accordance with what Lewis Carroll called “the glorious British Principle of Political Dichotomy,” were doing their best to nullify our efforts in the fighting line!

The day begins at “Stand to,” about an hour before dawn, when the Officer and N.C.O. on duty go round rousing every one with a hoarsely-whispered, “Wake up, there--Stand to!” reinforced by a shake as each man comes slowly up out of the wells of sleep and stumbles to his feet, rubs his eyes, grabs his rifle, and mounts the fire step. The Company Commander rouses the signaller, or vice versa, and every one sniffs the cold night air and hopes that “Jerry” won’t come over this morning.

Slowly the darkness thins; faces become visible, then sandbags, then duckboards, then the screwposts supporting the wire in front; suddenly a lark stirs, mounts up and bursts into his fervent song--the dawn has come, and the Company Commander gives the word “Stand down,” which is passed along and acted on promptly, so that in a minute only the sentry on each post is left on duty. For we no longer hold the line continuously--our numbers are too small--but with a certain number of sentry posts, each consisting of an N.C.O. and, when possible, six men--more often four--some posts being Lewis gun posts, others bombing posts, others riflemen only. This line of posts, weak as it is, is strung out between and in front of a series of “strong points” containing machine guns and an infantry garrison lodged in deep mines, while behind us is the support Company ready to come up in case of need, and reserve troops further back; in addition we have the guns, which we can always switch on in a few seconds by telephone or sending up a rocket; all these things give us confidence, weak though we feel ourselves to be.

About this time there appears in the trench an Officer from the reserve Company, followed by sweating men carrying knapsack food-containers and dixies. The word “Breakfast up” is hardly needed, as already a man from each post is waiting with both hands full of mess tins to draw the bacon and tea for his post--bread and dry stuff was issued by the Company Quartermaster-Sergeant the night before. The sentries are excluded from the ensuing munching until such time as a chum, his meal swallowed, is available for relief; never for an instant, by day or night, must that vigilant watch over No Man’s Land cease.

The Officers crowd into the Company Headquarters or crawl into their own “caboosh” and eat their food in privacy, the same food as the rest but on a plate, sometimes with porridge and eggs, privately purchased, in addition--the Army issues the same ration to all ranks, but extras can be bought at canteens in YPRES.

After breakfast comes cleaning and inspecting rifles, while the Company Commander, who has already had a look round and detailed the day’s work to the Company Sergeant-Major, completes and sends down by runner to Battalion Headquarters his Trench State and account of ammunition expended; then adjusting his tube helmet and box respirator and tightening his belt carrying his revolver and glasses (it is a standing order that everyone must wear his equipment all the time in the front line), he sets out to inspect his lines, finding, if he knows his job, a cheery word for all and sundry, and receiving often better than he gives, taking stock of everything, strafing slackers, and generally tuning up for the day, well knowing that, if he misses anything, the Commanding Officer or, worse still, the Brigadier, will spot it and strafe him!

Each sentry post has its standing orders pinned up on a board, with a duty roster showing each man’s work through the 24 hours, and ensuring that each gets eight hours in which he may try to sleep, and a sheet for intelligence, which is collected by the Intelligence Officer every morning when he visits the sniping posts.

“Dinners up” is the signal for a general break and a repetition of the breakfast scene, but the food is stew or roast meat and potatoes or rissoles. At 1 30 p.m. casualty returns and special indents have to be at Battalion Headquarters, and at 3 30 p.m. a report on the situation and direction of wind (this latter with reference to possible gas activities). Having to render this report in the middle of a strafe, some sorely-tried Officer is said to have written, “Situation----, Wind vertical!”

Long before this we have all washed (or dabbed) our hands and faces in shell-hole water and shaved as best we can, and an inspection of box respirators has been carried out by the Officer on duty; feet are also inspected and rubbed with whale oil to guard against trench-feet, then work is resumed till tea, after which it is time to stand-to again for another hour.

Then the night routine begins; the men who have worked all day “get down to it,” while the wirers begin to slide over the parapet with their rolls of barbed wire and posts; the patrol puts on boiler-suits and cap-comforters--each man leaving behind any possible identification, and slides off into the waste, fitfully lit by enemy flares, in front of us.

The Officer and N.C.O. on duty start their tour of the line, candles are lit in Company Headquarters and correspondence is dealt with, while the Company Commander has another good look round while waiting for the patrol to return; when they come in the leader’s report has to be reduced to writing--often no easy matter when an unfortunate reference to “enemy seen” raises a perfect hail of questions from higher authority, truculently asking why they were not instantly gone for and spitted! Picture Second Lieutenant Snooks, on patrol for the first or second time with three men, sent out to examine enemy wire, shivering and squirming his way across NO MAN’S LAND, all eyes and ears, suddenly hearing guttural voices and seeing six or more figures looming big in the haze. Of course, he ought to bluff them and bring them in--that is what you would do, Reader, wouldn’t you?--but he doesn’t; he remembers that he was told to examine wire, not to make trouble, so he crouches motionless in the mud till they pass, and thinks he has done the right thing--till he sends in his report. Then, all at once, the Brigadier, the Colonel, the Company Commander send for him, and ask him abruptly, and with degrees of rudeness befitting their respective ranks, what the ---- he meant by letting those Boches escape! Needless to say, he never repeats the mistake! And in time he learns that in the Division and the Battalion it is a criminal offence to let slip any opportunity of killing, capturing, or annoying Boche!

About 10 p.m. is “tea up,” and the rum issue is mixed with this or with the breakfast tea at the discretion of the Company Commander. The patrol and other men coming in cold and wet need theirs at once, followed by a walk down to the Brigade drying room, where they can sleep in blankets before a brazier while their clothes are dried.

With the patrol’s return operations usually close for the night, and about midnight, having dealt with the last batch of chits which a thoughtful and zealous runner has seen fit to pick off the Adjutant’s table and deliver, asking searching questions about the “number of sandbags laid” or “the number of screw posts, long, salved” the day before, or the name of a man used to operating an electric light plant or minding pigeons or mixing cocktails (“nil returns to be rendered!” which means “If none, say so”), the Company Commander, who alone has no allotted sleeping time, takes off his tin hat, loosens his belt, and sleeps. At 3 a.m. the Officer on duty, who does a four-hour spell, sends in another “situation and wind report,” and waits for the hour when he can stir up everyone else for “stand-to,” strolling from one post to another and keeping an eye on things in general and the Boche in particular.

It is very quiet, probably raining a little; nothing on the move, except rats. What brutes they were, those rats of the Salient! huge mangy brutes the size of a cat, a few patches of fur on their otherwise bare pink bodies; getting under your feet, running over your face as you lay trying to sleep, eating through haversacks to get the biscuits within, scurrying, scratching, gnawing all night long!

To resume the thread of the story:--The following extracts from a Company Commander’s diary, given under the dates on which they were written, help to give life to an otherwise bald narrative:--

25th. “This dugout is very poor and the roof is leaky--my canvas bucket catches most of the drip, however.... Have just been entering up Logbook sitting in the dugout with a candle for company--caked in mud, sandbags over my boots--feet cold, raining outside, but quite cheerful, as I am expecting some hot stew before long. The old skin-lined coats are no longer issued; instead we have leather jerkins lined with fleece, very warm and comfy.”

26th. “To-day is apparently Sunday, but out here one can’t tell it except by the calendar; the daily hate goes on much as usual--in fact to-day we have been hating the Boche rather extra much. Our guns have been slowly and deliberately knocking his front line to blazes all day, but if I know anything of him he will be about half a mile behind down a hole of some sort--we all go to ground in these days: ‘They shall go into the caves and dens of the rocks, they shall say unto the mountains, “Fall on us” and to the hills “Cover us,” men’s hearts failing them for fear and for looking for those things which are coming on the earth’--a wonderful book, the Bible!... One of the men said to-day, ‘The Boche isn’t here, Sir; he’s gone to the Somme and left his missus to look after this place!’ ... How nice a change of boots will be!”

27th. “A fighting patrol under Second Lieutenant Agostini went out but encountered no enemy. At 7 30 p.m. we were relieved by the 1/5th South Lancashires; they were very strong and all arrived together instead of post by post and the narrow trench was jammed with men so that our fellows had a struggle to get out. However, we got out without a casualty, assembled at YPRES station, and trained to BRANDHOEK, whence we marched to C Camp for a rest.”

28th. “‘Cleaning and inspection of kit,’” says the War Diary. We always lay long on the morning after relief, no one worried anyone else till noon at least. “To-day I had a bath! Oooooooh! Nothing can describe the utter luxury of it when for several days you haven’t even had your revolver off! A real one and lie down in it! I feel another man already! Nothing of special interest, very busy inspecting, cleaning up, repairing, and generally getting ready for the trenches.... It’s still very cold and difficult to keep warm; these huts have no glass in the windows, but horn, sacking or linen, so one always writes by candle-light. We have a gramophone in the Mess which plays all day and cheers us much. ‘O, Cecilia! Don’t make those eyes at me!’ is a great favourite, especially with the Padre, who says the sentiment is exceedingly proper!”

The following days were devoted to Company training, and on Sunday December 3rd, 1916, there was a Church Parade. Our Diarist writes: “We are still in rest, and it’s still freezing--coke is bad to get in quantity--to-day we are very short; food is plentiful, there are Y.M.C.A. huts and canteens and places about where one can buy baccy, biscuits, fruit, etc.--the important thing is that all eatables must be in tins, otherwise the rats get the lot.... In spite of cold, dirt, and discomfort, it’s a good life on the whole, and one’s conscience is at rest; we’re part of an Army--and a fine Army--and the Army is abundantly cheerful.”

Our numbers at this time were very low, three more Officers and 37 Other Ranks having gone sick during the month.

On 6th December, we were inspected in mass by the Corps Commander, an amusing inspection which rather showed up the lack of horsemanship of some Company Commanders. As a result a Battalion riding school was started, and carried on whenever we were in “rest.” The following day we moved up to YPRES (RAMPARTS and SCHOOL), and on the 8th relieved the 1/6th King’s Liverpool Regiment in RAILWAY WOOD. The following day our artillery was active, strafing the enemy front line; we received some “Minnies” in exchange. During the night our field guns and machine guns fired on enemy communications; he retaliated with shells and “Minnies.”

In the support trench (BEEK) were many home-made weather vanes, somewhat out of adjustment, and one day, in directing a stranger to Company Headquarters, someone said, “Keep along the trench and you’ll see several weather-cocks.” “Yes,” broke in a humorist, “to show the various Norths!”

On the 11th the activity on both sides was renewed, but without serious damage. Of course trenches were blown in and there were many narrow escapes, but only two men were wounded in the three days. It was always a standing wonder that so much metal could fly about in horrid, jagged bits, knocking trenches about, missing men by inches, demolishing dugouts, and yet cause so few casualties. For example, three men were lying in a low dugout with an iron roof; a shell struck the front edge, burying the men and at the same time saving them from its own explosion, which took place simultaneously! Men are sometimes literally struck dumb at these times, as witness the following true story:--Scene--a slight shelter; Officer inside, Private at entrance; three shells fall in quick succession, the first and second miss the shelter by a foot or two and make the usual noise and mess, the third hurtles down and buries itself at the very entrance--a long pause, then a small, unnatural voice, “That’s a dud, sir!” Another pause, another voice of like quality, “Yes, I see it is!”

The 12th was very quiet. A drizzling rain fell all morning, mixed with snow later. The following day we were told to prepare for relief, and had the satisfaction of seeing, during the afternoon, our heavies putting some really big stuff on the Hun lines; in the evening we returned to our YPRES billets.

14th. YPRES was shelled fairly heavily and we had one casualty; our guns were also very active. “What an awful row these big guns make when they go off; if you’re anywhere near them the noise seems to box your ears and make you deaf for some seconds.”

15th. “Our guns were making a fair old row last night and this morning, celebrating the Kaiser’s peace proposals, I suppose--what a difference from the old RICHEBURG days! To-night, about 4 30, the Hun suddenly started shelling this place to some tune and kept it up for half an hour; quite a lot burst near our dugout and there was a good bit of stuff flying about, but no one was hit.” During these days the usual nightly working parties filed through the MENIN GATE and went up the line to shovel slime for a few hours.

On 17th December, 1916, we moved to PRISON billets and into the line again--WIELTJE--on the 18th.

On the 19th a dozen “Minnies” fell on our front line--again no one was hurt; on 20th December, 1916, the Hun shelled us all day; no casualties, bitter wind and snow, aeroplanes active, a Hun machine being brought down over their lines at 1 15.

21st December, 1916. Great artillery activity. Our front line trenches were cleared with the exception of a few Lewis guns from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. Our heavies bombarded the enemy trenches from 8 a.m. to 10 a.m. The field guns cut wire opposite our front line from 10 a.m. to 1 p.m., after which the heavies resumed operations. In the evening a patrol located an enemy sentry post in the Long Sap. On the 22nd the artillery programme was repeated; the enemy retaliated and caused one casuality. On the 23rd the 1/4th King’s Own raided over our heads, entering the enemy trenches and finding them deserted; the enemy retaliated heavily, causing three casualties, one man (Duerden) being killed in the front line by a bit of shell. As the front line was simply plastered with shells, we were lucky not to have more.

“There was a pretty heavy strafe this morning early,” writes the Diarist; “it went on for about an hour and left one kind of dazed and sleepy.”

Christmas Eve was very quiet; the great question was, “Were we to stay in the line over Christmas or not?” Our joy on hearing that we were to go out was tempered by pity for the King’s Own, who relieved us.

Christmas Day. “Out of trenches! Came out last night and forthwith had a shave and partial wash. We sent an Officer on, and when we landed here (YPRES) the men found candles lit and fires going in their billets, and we had ditto in ours. To-day we gave the men a decent Christmas dinner, and are now about to have one ourselves--a roaring fire, plenty of candles, turkey stuffed with _the_ stuffing, beer, vin ordinaire, pudding, and sundries have the promise of a very pleasant evening in them, if the Boche will refrain from throwing stuff over--he peppered this place some to-day! To-morrow, work--pulling things together--refitting, cleaning, reorganising; to-night, Christmas Day, home thoughts, comfort and God bless everyone, especially those at home, who are always with us in thought--what we owe to their prayers no man knows.”

Second Lieutenant Tyldesley was largely responsible for the success of the dinner referred to. The Battalion dined in the MAGAZINE, two Companies at a time, on hastily-made tables and waited on by the Officers; there was pork and goose mixed (Tyldesley’s tunic bore the marks of goose-grease for long after), and trimmings, plum pudding and dessert and fruit and beaucoup beer, and we drank “The King” and everyone enjoyed themselves.

26th. “Everyone in splendid form after a day’s rest and a good feed, a sort of cheery, alert look on everyone’s face that I haven’t seen for a long time.” 220 men were on working parties that day, and on the 27th we were relieved by the 1/5th South Lancashires and went back to C Camp, this time by train--‘the Midnight Choo-choo’ as some wit dubbed it. The silent assembly of troops at YPRES Station, the entraining, and the gradual withdrawal of the train from that stricken area into cultivated country, are some of the things we shall never cease to recall with complete vividness. The following days were devoted to the usual cleaning and inspections, etc.

“To-day I have had all my men inspected for deficiencies and paid them; I find an excellent plan is to require a man to produce a chit from his Platoon Commander stating that he has been fully inspected before he is paid; by adopting this plan I get all sorts of people up for inspection who would otherwise probably have been missed. To-morrow I get my Company on parade for a whole morning--a most unusual occurrence and one to be made the most of.”

The 31st December found us still at C Camp--clean, fresh, and ready for another year of war, though fervently hoping for peace.

Our total casualties for the year were as follows:--

Officers. Other Ranks. Killed 9 69 Wounded 23 434 Missing 1 190 Do. believed killed 2 0 Drowned 0 1 Sick to F.A. 16 204 -- --- Totals 51 898

The New Year started with a Brigade holiday, and in the Church Army hut the men were given a dinner followed by a cinema performance; the Sergeants and Officers also had dinners in their respective messes. “A dinner of stew, mixed pork, and goose, and plum pudding, and beer in a mess tin, means more to the men to-day than all the elaborate spread we had at SEVENOAKS, which cost £150.”

During this period reinforcements of Officers and men kept turning up, and were rapidly assimilated; on the other hand, almost every day some Officer or man went sick, the weather on the whole being mild and damp.

On 3rd January, 1917, we were inspected by the Brigade Commander, and were complimented on the turnout, also on the camp; in fact at this time Brigade were rather fond of us and let us alone quite a lot.

On the 5th the Lewis gun detachments with their handcarts were inspected by the Divisional Commander; he caused great mirth by wheeling a handcart violently at a ditch, to demonstrate how easily the shafts broke! At this time the Lewis gun was in a transition stage and the favourite toy of the staff; it was finding its feet as a Company weapon, and masses of orders about it were coming in every day, to the joy(?) of all concerned.

On the 6th we returned to YPRES, and on the 7th relieved the 1/6th King’s Liverpool Regiment in RAILWAY WOOD, where we were badly shelled the following day, six men being wounded. This relief was accomplished without a casualty, although Platoons had some narrow escapes. We were singularly lucky that way; we were always hearing that such and such a Battalion had had a Platoon blown to bits in the Square, but it never happened to us; if an Officer lost men by taking a known dangerous road when a safer was available, it was not counted unto him for righteousness!

On the 8th the enemy shelled us all day, especially BEEK TRENCH and BATTALION HEADQUARTERS, and six men were wounded; the 9th was quieter--one man wounded.

On the 10th, after a quiet morning, our artillery bombarded enemy lines opposite B Company, who had their Company Headquarters blown in in the retaliation which followed--no casualty.

After a quiet day on the 11th, the Battalion was relieved on the 12th, except A Company, by the 1/4th KING’S OWN, A Company being left behind to do a special job--wiring in close support and support lines--the rest going back to YPRES, whence they provided the usual nightly working parties till the 16th, when they were relieved by the 12th ROYAL SUSSEX REGIMENT and marched to P Camp north of POPERINGHE. The next day we marched to ROUSSEL FARM, about a mile east of ELVERDINGHE, the Drums, recently re-formed, playing on the march for the first time. A Company turned up, dead beat, at 5 a.m. Second Lieutenant Faber went sick from sheer overwork; as Lewis gun Officer he had tried to do everything himself and broke down. We were sorry to lose such an excellent Officer.

During the next few days, except when snowed off, a party of nine Officers and 300 Other Ranks, under Captain Houghton, was employed daily in making the formation for doubling a railway track, supervised by an R.E. Officer. As our party included a Civil Engineer, a Railway Engineer, and a Municipal Engineer, there was enough technical skill to have laid the whole railway! During this period another party, D Company under Captain Matthew, were repairing dugouts in CANAL BANK, YPRES, and after the first day were billeted there to save marching.

On the 22nd Captain Harris returned to the Battalion and took over the Bombing Company, an experimental organisation which did valuable work during its short existence. We were glad to leave this place with its thin huts (the weather was bitter) and march to D Camp on the 23rd, where, on the 24th, we were inspected by the Army Commander, General Sir Herbert Plumer.

On the 1st February our shooting team were winners in the inter-Battalion competition and were chosen to represent the Brigade. On the 3rd we were relieved in D Camp by the 1/5th NORTH LANCASHIRE REGIMENT, marched to POPERINGHE, and trained to BOLLEZEELE.

The train was a sort of miniature affair, and the railway ran, mostly by the roadside, at about three miles an hour. What a treat it was to get out of the sound of the guns for a bit, and to be in a pleasant little Flemish town, outwardly untouched by war! It consisted of a cheerful-looking market square lined with small shops, with a Church in the middle--quite a treat to see a Church untouched by shells--with a sort of openwork spire, to let out the sound of the carillons which played every hour and half-hour; how sweetly and peacefully it floated out over the open country on a still, frosty night! There was also a good inn, the “Lion d’Or,” known as the “Brass Cat!” The men were mostly billeted in enormous barns; the Officers in houses round the square. Here, it was rumoured, we were to have a month’s rest, but no one believed it; we actually _got_ 16 days.

On the 4th, being Sunday, of course orders for an immediate move were received at 11 30 a.m., and the Battalion packed up and concentrated at 2 15 p.m. and marched to ESQUELBECQ, a distance of five miles; this march will long be remembered by the Lewis gunners, who had to carry their guns there and back again--for this turned out to be a “camouflage” march; much hostile aerial activity had recently been displayed in the back areas, so large columns of troops were made to march eastwards during the day and back at dusk.

It was bitterly cold, snow on the ground and freezing hard--this weather continued all the time we were there. The time was devoted to training--Company, Battalion, and Brigade schemes, and in the intervals we smartened up and overhauled our interior economy.

On the 16th we moved back to C Camp, where we relieved the 14th Hampshires.

On 17th February, 1917, we sent an Officer and 20 men to attend an investiture of French soldiers by the Army Commander, as representatives of the 55th Division--rather a compliment.

On the 18th the Brigadier presented Military Medal ribbons to Company Sergeant-Major Heywood, Corporal Bamber, and 1147 Private Ainscough, T. On the 24th we moved into billets in CANAL BANK, YPRES. These were large elephant dugouts on the bank of the canal north of YPRES, comfortable and fairly safe, but we were only there for a night, relieving the 1/5th South Lancashires in the LA BRIQUE sector the next night. This was a rotten sector, badly neglected by previous Divisions; even the main communication trench was about two feet deep in water when we first saw it, and BILGE TRENCH well deserved its unsavoury name. It is only fair to say that when we left it it was fairly comfortable. On the 26th the line was rearranged, and we returned to CANAL BANK, whence we sent up the usual nightly working parties.

On the 4th March YPRES was heavily shelled during the day, but we relieved the 1/4th King’s Own in the line in the evening without casualties; at 7 5 p.m. the enemy sprung a mine on our right Brigade front and our artillery opened a heavy bombardment; one man was wounded in YPRES.

The 5th was a quiet day; at night a patrol went to examine CANADIAN DUGOUTS in the middle of NO MAN’S LAND and found them occupied.

On the 8th we were relieved by the 1/4th KING’S OWN and went back to CANAL BANK, where some artist did the Regimental Crest in bits of tile in front of a dugout. One wonders if it is still there!

On the 13th we sent a strong fighting patrol up the line to raid two of the CANADIAN DUGOUTS. The party consisted of one Officer, one N.C.O., and 12 men, who constituted the dugout party, and two complete Lewis gun teams.

Presumably the Hun got wind of the enterprise--he always did--for Nos. 1, 2, and 3 dugouts were empty and the wire round them destroyed. That evening we relieved the King’s Own again. On the 15th YPRES was shelled throughout the day, and again the following day; a patrol of ours had a scrap with a Hun patrol in NO MAN’S LAND, but suffered no casualties.

The 17th was a quiet day; the Battalion was relieved by the 1/5th KING’S OWN and went back to C Camp, where we remained till the 28th. During this period important reorganisation was carried out, the bombing sections rejoining their Companies, thus “washing out” the Bombing Company, the Lewis guns being placed finally under Company Commanders; Companies reorganised their Platoons into four sections--one of bombers, one of riflemen, one of Lewis gunners, and one of rifle grenadiers. As a matter of fact we had ourselves suggested and partially adopted this about a month before, but it was now officially sanctioned. Second Lieutenant H. Lonsdale joined us during this period.

On the 28th we moved back to CANAL BANK, YPRES; on that day we made 272 barbed wire concertinas and carried 100 up the line. We remained here a few days, supplying nightly working parties--chiefly carrying wire up to the front line; two men were wounded on the 1st April.

During February and March we lost 98 men through sickness alone--our monthly average being between 40 and 60 during the following months also.

On the 2nd April we relieved the 1/4th KING’S OWN in the LA BRIQUE sector without casualties; Second Lieutenant Fullerton joined us. The next day was quiet, with slight shelling on the front line, but on the following night a patrol of ours ran into a strong enemy party, who tried to cut them off, but a Lewis gun team being sent for, they thought better of it and retired, covered by two machine guns; we had three killed and one wounded that day.

On the 6th we had a man wounded, and again on the 7th; on the latter day the 165th Brigade on our right carried out a hurricane bombardment on the enemy’s front line with Stokes’ mortars. The enemy sent up red flares, which, being our S.O.S. signal, brought our artillery into action, and 600 shells were fired on the enemy front line opposite us. Our relief that night by the 1/4th KING’S OWN was carried out, with one casualty, in bright moonlight, and we went back to CANAL BANK.

The 8th, Easter Sunday, was a lovely day, and very quiet. The Padre held four Communion services in one of the dugouts, and a large number of us went.

The next few days we spent in doing a certain amount of training on the Canal Bank, with nightly working parties; on the 12th Second Lieutenant R. A. Hall was accidentally wounded in the arm during bombing practice; the same evening we relieved the 1/4th KING’S OWN in LA BRIQUE sub-sector.

On the 13th, during some slight shelling, a Lewis gun post on our right Company front had the misfortune to get hit, one man being killed and three others wounded, and on the following day, though “quiet,” two more men were wounded. On the 17th we sent out a large fighting patrol, with Bangalore torpedoes, to capture an enemy sentry post in a sap head, but, as usual, “when they got there the cupboard was bare,” and they came away empty.

On the 17th we were relieved by the 12th ROYAL SUSSEX (39th Division)--the relief was not complete till 1 30 a.m.--and we entrained at YPRES at 2 30 a.m. and arrived at POPERINGHE station at 3 25 a.m. and marched to Z Camp, where we snatched a few hours’ sleep. At 2 30 p.m. we marched via WATOU to HOUTKERQUE, where Companies were billeted in scattered farms; here our Medical Officer, Captain A. W. Uloth, R.A.M.C., went sick, and Captain R. W. Shegog, R.A.M.C., came in his place. Here we remained for three days, cleaning up and training, till on the 22nd the whole Brigade concentrated at 9 a.m. one mile south of HERZEELE and marched, with first line transport, to billets in ARNEKE, where we arrived at 1 45 p.m., leaving again early next morning to concentrate at 9 a.m. four and a half miles west of ARNEKE, and march via WATTEN (locally known as “WAT”) to HOULLE, where we arrived at 2 p.m. These marches, though a stiff trial to men fresh from the trenches, with slack muscles and tender feet, were interesting; we were seeing new country: HOUTKERQUE and HERZEELE were nice little towns, though the latter had more troops than it could properly hold; ARNEKE was still better--the people, who seemed delighted to see us, had a curiously English look, probably due to the fact that Marlborough’s troops were once billeted all round this part; just as the Scotch blood in Lancashire is traced to the presence of the Pretender’s following. HOULLE is in the midst of the hilly country near ST. OMER--strongly reminding one of parts of Kent--an ideal country to train in. Here were large ranges, like the Aldershot Ranges, for musketry, and every day we marched out of billets and up on to the hills for training of some kind, taking our cookers with us and having dinners up there, every day getting fitter and improving in morale--shaking off the trench staleness and thinking more of open fighting--getting more of the “offensive spirit.” Second Lieutenant Hall rejoined us on the 26th. The Diarist writes at this time: “Still in the same place”--that in itself, you see, is sufficiently remarkable to be chronicled. “There are real hedgerows here, just bursting into leaf, and the fritillaries are out all along the lanes, in fact I am in the middle of real Spring. A lilac in front of my window shows half out, covered with bloom, and the currants are quite green. All this makes one long more than ever for England. The people round here are much better farmers and gardeners than we are--nothing is wasted, and everything done thoroughly and carefully. As I look out of the window a thrush is singing and the view is an English view. Oh, to be in England now that April’s here!”

30th. “The cuckoo is at it and the nightingale, in fact it is Spring, cloudless day, glorious sun, everything as it should be, only one thing wrong, I’m not where I ought to be, in England--Spring in a foreign land is a painful pleasure to an Englishman.” The point of these extracts is that they express what each of us felt at that time--and many other times--an intense longing, carefully smothered, for Home and Peace; few individuals, if any, went abroad, or stayed there, because they _liked_ it.

Until the 6th we remained at HOULLE training; it would serve no useful purpose and would bore the general reader to set down the programme of training carried out; enough to say that it was a fresh and merry column that marched back to ARNEKE on the 6th of May, leaving again by train at 11 45 a.m. for POPERINGHE. Here we were met by the Divisional Band, which played us to L Camp, where we spent the night, returning to POPERINGHE the next morning and up by train to the PRISON billets at YPRES.

During the next five days bathing was carried out, and the usual nightly working parties went up the line. YPRES was distinctly livelier than before, but only one man was wounded during the period.

On the 14th we relieved the 1/4th KING’S OWN in the right sub-sector, POTIJZE. The sectors had been rearranged. D Company had two Platoons in the front line and two in close support; A Company was in reserve and held MILL COTTS, GARDEN OF EDEN, PROWSE TRENCH, and ST. JAMES’ TRENCH. B and C Companies, in Brigade Reserve, were billeted in houses on the POTIJZE ROAD.

On the 18th the enemy was very active with his artillery, the front line Company, D, calling for retaliation five times during the morning; we had one man killed and one wounded. A fighting patrol had gone out the previous night to try to capture an enemy party, and were supported by an artillery barrage--as usual, the enemy had withdrawn.

At 9 15 that evening the enemy placed a shrapnel, trench mortar, and howitzer barrage on our front line first, then on our support line, and an S.O.S. being sent up by the Battalion on our left was repeated by us; as soon as the barrage started our front Company stood to and fired rapid over the parapet. No one in the front line saw the enemy leave his trenches, but two snipers, who had been out in NO MAN’S LAND all day and were waiting for it to get dark to come in, saw the enemy place a machine gun on his parapet, the team of which they proceeded to knock out; they also saw Huns entering the trenches of the Battalion on our left. Our trenches were badly damaged in places, one man was killed, one missing, and Second Lieutenant Francis and four men wounded; B Company relieved D that evening.

“It is curious to notice the different effects intermittent and concentrated shelling have on one--intermittent shelling takes people different ways--on the whole it makes you angry; concentrated shelling, such as a barrage, you rise above altogether by some curious effort of will. I think it is that in the first case one hears each one coming hissing along in a descending scale, and speculates where it will fall, while in the second there is simply a terrific medley of bangs and crashes which you can only accept as a perfect inferno of noise, and leave it at that.”

The following night we hit back; Major Crump, who was in command in the absence of Lieutenant-Colonel Hindle, who was commanding the Brigade, organised a raid, carried out under an artillery barrage by Second Lieutenant Tautz, three N.C.O.’s, and 20 men, who entered the enemy’s lines and bombed dugouts. The party had great difficulty in getting through the wire, and our casualties were two men wounded of the party and one in the trench; three of the raiders were at first reported missing, but Private Metcalfe turned up at dawn, having got entangled in the wire and badly wounded, and in the evening another, Private Cooper, came in, having spent the day in a shell hole.

That day, the 20th, leave reopened, having been closed since January, and everyone began to calculate their chances.

About this time we were encouraged to use our Lewis guns against hostile aircraft, and special mountings and fittings were issued to us for that purpose--it was impossible for people behind to deal with machines flying low over our front line. This aeroplane shooting was rather good sport, and though very few were actually brought down by Lewis gun fire, they soon learned to keep out of range. At this time the aeroplane activity in the SALIENT was great on both sides--on a fine day machines swarmed like midges in the sky.

On the night of the 20th we were relieved by the 1/4th KING’S OWN, and on relief we marched to A Camp, just behind VLAMERTINGHE, leaving Captain Harris and 200 men of B and D Companies in YPRES as a working party. They had rather a lively time, as YPRES was being heavily shelled daily--a shell actually entered a cellar where several men were sleeping, ricochetted and buried itself in one of the walls without exploding or touching anyone. During the next few days five men were wounded.

On the night of the 26th we relieved the 1/4th KING’S OWN in the POTIJZE sector, C and A Companies in front, B in support, and D in reserve, and began at once a series of works designed to mislead the enemy and make him think an attack was intended on our front. How much he was deceived appeared from the amount of attention we received from this time onward until the battle of MESSINES.

The opposing sides gained much of their knowledge of the other’s intentions from aeroplane photographs, which show up with great clearness any newly-dug earth. It was our task then to open up all the disused trenches on our sector, placing along the top a row of new sandbags, and to dig saps out into NO MAN’S LAND, at the same time annoying the Hun by every means in our power. Two were killed and three wounded during the next four days, during which we kept throwing things at the Hun--trench mortars, grenades, bullets, etc.--and we really did stir him up. Then came the news that we were not to be relieved, so Companies changed over.

On 1st June the gas strafe started; our people started it with a discharge of 500 gas drums on enemy reserves. We heard afterwards that so sudden and concentrated was the attack that a whole Company were poisoned where they stood. The enemy retaliated on us, killing one man and wounding three, using everything he had; then he began to bring up gas shells and use them, chiefly at night on lines of communication. The sighing of gas shells going over never ceased during three successive nights before the show, yet the damage done was very slight. But the Companies in the trenches kept getting odd ones, and the veering breeze kept clouds of various gases drifting about for quite a long time, and we had a few anxious vigils. The Hun was very angry and horribly afraid and therefore shelled everything he could think of, and we appeared to occupy some of his thoughts, for we certainly got our full share and he took his toll of us.

On the 2nd we sent over more gas drums, and again the Hun retaliated, doing a lot of damage to trenches and killing two men and wounding five others.

On the 3rd we treated him to a combined smoke, artillery, and machine gun barrage, and he replied, but more feebly, killing one man and wounding two; but during the night, from 10 p.m. to 4 a.m., he drenched YPRES with gas shells, our transport suffering slightly. He also, on the following day, put 67 “Minnies” on to B Company, killing one man and wounding Second Lieutenants Hall and Johnson and 11 others. We were glad to learn that Lieutenant-Colonel Hindle had been awarded the D.S.O. in the Birthday Honours List.

That night a minor enterprise by the 1/5th NORTH LANCASHIRE REGIMENT on our right caused some shelling on our right front Company, and a party digging saps in front escaped by a miracle; he also sent a few Granatenwerfer over into the middle of another party engaged in sap digging, causing several casualties, the total being 14 wounded for the two days. On the 14th both sides were active. We were preparing an elaborate programme of smoke and other bombs, to be discharged at the same hour as the MESSINES battle was timed to start, also putting scaling ladders against the parapet--this work was under Captain Harris. The Hun shelled YPRES pretty heavily in the evening, and set two large dumps on fire.

At 3 10 a.m. on the 7th the Messines battle started with a literal earthquake--19 mines being blown up at once, the barrage starting at the same time on our front among others. The enemy shelled us for about half an hour, by which time he found out that we were bluffing him and stopped. Our casualties were five killed, Second Lieutenant Agostini and 10 others wounded.

On the 8th the enemy shelled the roads with 5.9’s and gas shells in the early morning, our guns doing wire cutting with the 106 fuse, a very sensitive fuse which bursts on graze without burying itself; a good many “shorts” fell on our trenches due to defective ammunition, which was just as dangerous to the gunners as to us, as muzzle-bursts were not infrequent. A gunner Officer going round the line was at a loss for words when he saw a shell case, which had fallen short, stuck up over a dugout with the inscription, “A present from the R.F.A.!” Sergeant Thompson was killed by a nosecap from one of these “shorts,” and during the day four men were wounded.

In the afternoon A and C Companies relieved B and D in the front line.

At 11 9 p.m. the 39th Division on our left sent over gas from Projectors; we caught some of the retaliation on POTIJZE ROAD--5.9’s and gas shells.

On the 9th we had a fairly quiet morning, but the artillery livened up in the afternoon; the 1/4th KING’S OWN carried out a successful raid on our front, bagging six unwounded prisoners, who seemed glad to be taken. The enemy was taken by surprise in mid-relief. We had six men wounded during the day.

Things remained lively during the next two days, five men being wounded, but on the 11th the blessed word “Relief” was whispered. Imagine the joy of men who had never had their clothes off for nearly three weeks--more, in some cases. The relieving Battalion, the 1/9th King’s Liverpool Regiment, did not arrive till after 3 a.m., so relief had to be carried out in daylight in very small parties, but it went off without a casualty, and we marched to a canvas camp behind YPRES, where we rested till noon on the 12th, when we marched by Companies to POPERINGHE, leaving by train at 2 45 p.m. and reaching ESQUELBECQ at 4 45 p.m.; here we were joined by part of the transport, and after dinner had been eaten we marched on to BOLLEZEELE, where we occupied our old billets.

The next three days were spent in cleaning up, bathing, and a little training.

On the 16th the Brigade marched via Watten to BOISDINGHEM; it was a broiling day and the sky was like brass, and as the march started at 9 a.m., when the sun was high up, and was mostly uphill, a large number of men were affected with sunstroke and fell out, but the 9th Wing R.F.C. were very good to us and lent us lurries to bring in the stragglers. Here we found the accommodation poor and totally inadequate, but we crowded in somehow, many preferring to bivouac in the open fields rather than occupy the buildings allotted to them: the village lay on the top of the downs not many miles from our old area HOULLE, almost out of the sound of the guns. About this time the Diarist, reviewing recent events, writes:--

“To be within two or three yards of a big shell when it bursts sounds like sudden death, but it isn’t--necessarily; it happens daily to lots of people who survive; I have been several times as close as that, closer in one case; the shock and noise absolutely deafen one for some minutes afterwards, but it seems to pass off; but there must be a good solid bulwark of earth between you and the shell! if there isn’t, well--shell-shock is the best you can hope for!”

On Sunday, the 17th, we had a Church of England parade out of doors, the cornet player of the Drums leading the hymns. Second Lieutenants Easterby and Rigby joined us. The following day we were inspected in mass by the Brigadier, who gave us a good rating about Saturday’s march. We thought this a little unkind, as it might have occurred to the Staff to make a start early in the morning and get it over in the cool of the day, instead of expecting men who were weak from a long spell of trenches to march 15 miles heavily laden in the middle of a hot June day; however, we had no doubt that those responsible would be duly ticked off, so we swallowed the rating with outward calm; after all, the men who fell out had in some cases done so without asking leave, being long past caring what happened, and this was a breach of march discipline.

The remaining days of the month were spent in training; we received a large number of reinforcements, including Second Lieutenant Brooke. Captain Houghton, who had picked up trench fever during the last tour, was sent to Field Ambulance, Captain Harris taking over A Company.

On the 2nd July we marched to LUMBRES, thence we went by rail to BRANDHOEK, and marched from there to DERBY CAMP. At dusk D Company moved forward to a post called L 4 on the YPRES Road, A and C Companies to a strong point called P 1, and two Officers and 50 Other Ranks to YPRES for water duties. Second Lieutenant H. Whitehurst joined us as a reinforcement. Two men were wounded on the 3rd and one on the 5th, on which day Captain Ord rejoined us from the Divisional School, Major Crump leaving the following day for a three months’ course at the Senior Officers’ School, Aldershot.

On the 9th we relieved the 1/4th KING’S OWN in the line; there was considerable enemy activity during the night, and we had one killed and one wounded.

On the 10th, although considered “quiet,” we had three men wounded, while on the 12th, though he put two of our Lewis guns out of action with Minenwerfers and shelled our trenches intensely, we had no casualty. At 11 p.m. he began to shell Battalion Headquarters steadily and went on till 8 30 a.m.; a wiring party from our left front Company had three men wounded by “Minnies,” and had to come in.

One man was killed and eight wounded during the day, one of the wiring party being missing. On the 13th two men were wounded during desultory shelling of our lines, and five on the next day, which started quiet, but things on both sides woke up at dusk, our guns bombarding enemy batteries, the Hun sending gas shells on to us, and barraging the front line, stopping all work, wounding three men and gassing two others that day. In the early morning 20 yards of the front line parapet was knocked in, one man killed and five wounded. Things were getting very hot indeed, and our strength was daily being whittled down, but relief was not yet.

The casualties at this time would have been far heavier than they actually were but for the fact that the N.C.O.’s in the front line had learnt that NO MAN’S LAND was the safest place in a bombardment and used to take their posts out in front of our wire as soon as the Hun opened out.