THE 23rd (SERVICE) BATTALION
ROYAL FUSILIERS.

(FIRST SPORTSMAN’S)

Army and Navy Stores, photo.

COL. THE VISCOUNT MAITLAND.ToList

Frontispiece

THE
23rd (SERVICE) BATTALION
ROYAL FUSILIERS

(FIRST SPORTSMAN’S)

A RECORD OF ITS SERVICES IN THE
GREAT WAR, 1914-1919

BY

FRED. W. WARD

CAPTAIN R.E.,
FORMERLY NO. 662 FIRST SPORTSMAN’S BATTALION

LONDON
SIDGWICK & JACKSON, LTD.
1920

CONTENTS

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

FOREWORDS

THE SPORTSMENToC

FROM MAJOR-GENERAL SIR C.E. PEREIRA, K.C.B., C.M.G.ToC

The history of any New Army battalion is a valuable contribution to
the history of the war. This applies particularly to a battalion like
the 23rd Royal Fusiliers, which achieved a high morale and maintained
excellent discipline throughout the war.

At the Front our only knowledge of the New Army before they came
overseas was gained from the Brigade Staffs and Commanding Officers of
the new Formations, who were sent over for short attachment to troops
in the line.

We learnt from them the great difficulties that had to be overcome in
raising new units, with very few officers, warrant officers, and
N.C.O.’s to lead the new force and instruct them in military routine.
Without exception they were filled with admiration of the physique,
intelligence, and spirit of the men who had rushed to arms in those
dark early days of the war.

It was evidently the flower of the nation that came [5]forward, and
probably in the history of all wars such magnificent material has
never been equalled.

My acquaintance with the 23rd Battalion Royal Fusiliers extended from
the end of 1916 to March, 1919, when the Battalion left the 2nd
Division, and it is interesting to look back at my first impression of
the Battalion, as I had not previously had any New Army battalions
under my command. Regular battalions have the pride of history to
sustain them, and traditions to live up to, but here I found a
battalion not two years old, with its history in the making, but with
the same spirit and self-consciousness that one finds in the old
formations.

Those who have not had considerable experience of troops in peace and
war may imagine that regiments are, at all times, sustained by a great
pride in their past, and a determination to live up to it. Alas! in
some cases this spirit dies away in adversity. I have seen the 23rd
Royal Fusiliers in good times and in bad, and I have never found them
downhearted.

When out for a few weeks’ rest and training, in pleasant surroundings,
their work and play were carried out with much life and zest.

In the fighting in the Cambrai salient, in the Bourlon-Mœuvres
Ridge, on November 30, 1917, when the 2nd Division defeated six
successive attacks on their line, the 23rd Royal Fusiliers at the end
of the day held their line intact. This action was followed two days
later by a withdrawal which was necessary to get us [6]out of a sharp
salient. This entailed very hard work and constant trench fighting,
extending over several days. The troops were very exhausted from the
extremely heavy calls that had been made on them, but after a few
days’ rest it was almost incredible how rapidly they had thrown off
their fatigue and how good their spirits were.

They knew they had killed large numbers of Germans, and had
successfully defeated a German attack which, if successful, would have
been a great disaster for the British.

A more trying time was the March retreat in 1918. Lieutenant-Colonel
Winter had lost his voice from the effect of several days of very
heavy gas shelling of the Highland Ridge just before the Germans
launched their attack, and he was voiceless for the next ten days. A
large proportion of his Battalion were similarly affected, but time
after time during the retreat they turned and fought, and inflicted
heavy losses on the enemy until they did their share in repelling a
heavy attack at Beaumont Hamel, where the Germans were finally held.

It was the spirit of such battalions as the 23rd Royal Fusiliers that
broke the German offensive, and the marvellous power of recuperation
that they had, given a few days to rest and sleep.

In the offensive operations that lasted from August 21, 1918, to the
Armistice, the Battalion delivered many successful attacks with
undiminished dash and courage, [7]and it was a proud day when I saw them
march through the Square in Duren with fixed bayonets, headed by the
few Regimental pipers that had been through the war with them since
their formation.

Well had they earned their Victory March into Germany, and
Lieutenant-Colonel Winter was justified in his great pride in their
fine appearance and magnificent transport.

In conclusion I must pay a tribute to the private soldiers, the
non-commissioned officers, and the young officers, who, year in and
year out, faced death and the greatest of hardships with that dogged
courage that has always broken the hearts of our enemies. The saying
that the British soldier never knows when he is beaten has never been
truer than in this war.

My hope is that histories such as this may have a wide circulation, so
that mothers, wives, and children may know what their men have done
for their country, what dangers they have faced, and what vast
sacrifices they cheerfully made.

FROM MAJOR-GENERAL R.O. KELLETT, C.B., C.M.G.ToC

The story of the 23rd Battalion Royal Fusiliers cannot fail to be a
fine one. Every soldier who, like myself, had the honour of fighting,
I may say, shoulder to shoulder with it, will read its history with
the deepest interest.

[8]As its first Brigadier, I took up that appointment on December 19,
1914, when the Battalion was in its infancy, deficient of arms and
equipment, but full of men whose physique, zeal, and spirit were
magnificent, and this spirit was fully maintained, to the honour and
fame of the Battalion, in the face of the enemy in France during the
winter of 1915-16, and throughout 1916 and 1917, during which time it
was in my (99th) Brigade, which formed part of the 2nd Division.

Throughout the heavy fighting we went through during this period, the
23rd Battalion Royal Fusiliers never failed me. What they were ordered
to do they did, and more; any objective they seized they held on to,
and never retired from. Few units can boast of as proud a record as
this.

Many hundreds of their best and bravest made the last sacrifice, but
the splendid gallantry and dogged and cheerful endurance of the
Battalion never lessened.

I was, and am, a proud man to have had such a Battalion in my Brigade,
a Battalion second to none amongst those who fought for the Empire in
the Great War.

FORMATION OF THE BATTALION,
THE HONOURS GAINED,

AND ITS RECORD IN BRIEF

FORMATION OF THE BATTALION,
THE HONOURS GAINED,
AND ITS RECORD IN BRIEFToC

Raised in London in 1914 by Mrs E. Cunliffe-Owen (now Mrs.
Stamford, O.B.E.)

PARTICULARS OF STRENGTH.

COLONELS IN COMMAND.

Colonel Viscount Maitland. From formation of Battalion to
January 29, 1916.

Lieut.-Colonel H.A. Vernon, D.S.O. From January 31, 1916, to
May 23, 1917.

Lieut.-Colonel E.A. Winter, D.S.O., M.C. From May 24, 1917,
to April 14, 1919.

Lieut.-Colonel F.L. Ashburner, M.V.O., D.S.O. From April 15,
1919, to March, 1920.

[12]The Battalion proceeded overseas on November 15, 1915.

CASUALTIES SUSTAINED.

HONOURS AWARDED.

MOVEMENTS OF THE BATTALION AND BATTLES IN WHICH
IT TOOK PART.

A NEW TYPE OF SOLDIER—THE
COSMOPOLITAN
COMPOSITION OF THE BATTALION

A NEW TYPE OF SOLDIER—THE
COSMOPOLITAN
COMPOSITION OF THE BATTALIONToC

With the formation of the Sportsman’s Battalion it will be admitted
quite a new type of man was brought into the British Army. Public
Schools battalions, the Chums, the Footballers, and other battalions
were formed. But to the First Sportsman’s belongs the honour of
introducing an actually new type.

To begin with, it was cosmopolitan. Practically every grade of life
was represented, from the peer to the peasant; class distinctions were
swept away, every man turned to and pulled his bit. To illustrate what
is meant one hut of thirty men at Hornchurch may be mentioned.

In this hut the first bed was occupied by the brother of a peer. The
second was occupied by the man who formerly drove his motor-car. Both
had enlisted at the same time at the Hotel Cecil, had passed the
doctor at the same time at St. Paul’s Churchyard, and had drawn their
service money when they signed their papers. Other beds in this hut
were occupied by a mechanical engineer, an old Blundell School boy,
planters, a mine overseer from Scotland, a man in [18]possession of a
flying pilot’s certificate secured in France, a photographer, a
poultry farmer, an old sea dog who had rounded Cape Horn on no fewer
than nine occasions, a man who had hunted seals, “with more patches on
his trousers than he could count,” as he described it himself, a bank
clerk, and so on.

It must not be thought that this hut was an exceptional one. Every hut
was practically the same, and every hut was jealous of its reputation.
Scrubbing day was on Saturdays as a rule, and it was then that the
“un-char-lady” side of various men came out. They were handling
brooms, scrubbing-brushes, and squeegees for the first time in their
lives, but they stuck it, and, with practice making perfect, it was
surprising to what a pitch of cleanliness things eventually got.

Even church parade has been dodged on a Sunday morning in order that
three pals might unite in an effort to get the stoves blacked, the
knives and forks polished, and a sheen put on the tea-pails.

One may smile about these things now when in civilian life again, but
it was all very real at the time. The First Sportsman’s were not
coddled; no man thought twice about getting in a terrible mess when
domestic duties had to be performed. The only kick came when the hut
windows had to be cleaned with old newspapers. The man who had
forgotten to wash the old cloths or buy new ones came in for a
terrible time.

[19]Rivalry, perfectly friendly in character, was great in the earlier
days before chums began to be split up as the result of taking
commissions. If we were digging trenches “somewhere in Essex,” our
particular sector had to be completed quicker and be more finished in
character than any other. Jobs were done at the double if it were
thought to be necessary; if any man developed a tendency to take a
rest at too frequent intervals—well, he was ticked off in the most
approved fashion. It all made for the good of the whole. The N.C.O. in
charge had an easy time, he hadn’t to drive a man. All he had to do
was to see that in over-eagerness his working party did not take
risks.

But the time came when the calculations upon securing a commission
began to make their appearance. It may be some men were approached on
the matter, or that others thought they would get to the Front more
quickly as individual officers than as members of the Battalion (as
indeed proved the case in many instances), but certain it is that the
Colonel began to be inundated with applications to apply for
permission.

Whilst freely recommending all suitable applications, the Colonel, in
order to keep up the strength of the Battalion, made a rule that an
applicant was to supply two other recruits to the Battalion of a
certain height and of absolute physical fitness.

Naturally this was conformed with, and the recruiting sergeants round
Whitehall were all the richer for it. [20]So, too, were the recruits, and
everyone was satisfied. If one man went two others took his place.

FIRST INSPECTION OF BATTALION: HYDE PARK, OCTOBER,
1914.ToList

To face p. 20

Finally, as it was found that men constantly leaving was interfering
with the internal organization of the companies, a special company was
formed of all those waiting for their commission papers to come
through.

This company, “E,” proved the friendly butt of all the others, one wag
even going so far as to christen it the “Essex Beagles,” alleging they
did not “parade,” but “met”!

So, in order to free the others for harder training this company
provided very nearly all the fatigue parties for the camp.

Still, this didn’t matter. It just gave the budding officers a chance
to show what they were capable of. On several occasions a member of
“E” Company proved he was more than a little useful with his hands
when it came to a matter of treating things from a physical point of
view and cutting the cheap wit out. The fatigues were also done
without a murmur, that was another point of honour, and although the
available strength of the company was dwindling day by day, “grousing”
about extra work was conspicuous by its absence.

There was a funny side about this dwindling of the strength, too. Men
would be on the morning parade, and not on that later in the day. The
explanation was a simple one. Their papers had come through. A [21]man
would walk out through the gates and be pulled up by the sentry.

“What about your pass?” the latter would ask.

“Got my discharge,” would be the reply.

“Got a commission?”

“Yes.”

“Good luck, old chap. I’m getting my papers to-morrow.”

So, many of the original members of the First Sportsman’s Battalion
were scattered about on every front in their various regiments.
Walking through the Rue Colmar, Suez, one day I met my old company
officer, then in the Royal Flying Corps. At Sidi Bishr, on the banks
of the Mediterranean, I met another. A fellow-sergeant in the
Battalion came up in the Rue Rosetta, Alexandria, and claimed me.

Out beyond the Bitter Lakes, east of the Suez Canal, I met an old
Sportsman who had been a fellow-corporal with me. Back of the Somme, a
prominent West Country Sportsman shouted a greeting to me from the
Artillery. He still remembered rousing the camp at Hornchurch one
night by sounding a hunting horn.

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

Friendships made in the First Sportsman’s Battalion [22]were not easily
broken. We are out of it now, but—once a Sportsman, always a
Sportsman. That, at least, has been my experience.

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

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

TRAINING AT HOME—HOW THE FINISHED
SOLDIER EMERGED
FROM THE ROUGH MATERIALToC

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

Recruiting went on briskly at the Hotel Cecil, London, where Mrs.
Cunliffe-Owen and her staff worked hard and late. Lieutenant-Colonel
Winter, then Second-Lieutenant Winter, with his ledger-like book and
his green-baize-covered table, was a familiar figure. So, too, was the
tailor who had been entrusted with the task of fitting us out with our
uniforms. He, poor man, was soon in trouble. The stock sizes could be
secured, but stock sizes were at a discount with the majority of the
men who first joined up. They wanted outside sizes, and very
considerable outside sizes, too, [26]for the average height was a little
over six feet, and the chest measurements in proportion.

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

Bit by bit we were provided with our uniforms, and we began to fancy
ourselves as the real thing. We began to make new friends, and we were
drawn closer to those we knew. We came from all over the world. At the
call men had come home from the Far East and the Far West. A man who
had gone up the Yukon with Frank Slavin, the boxer; another who had
been sealing round Alaska; trappers from the Canadians woods; railway
engineers from the Argentine; planters from Ceylon; big-game hunters
from Central Africa; others from China, Japan, the Malay States,
India, Egypt—these were just a few of the Battalion who were ready
and eager to shoulder a rifle, and do their bit as just common or
garden [27]Tommies. The thought of taking a commission did not enter our
minds at the start. Every man was eager to get on with the work, with
but a dim thought of what it was going to be like, but worrying not a
bit about the future.

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

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

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

MARCHING AWAY FROM HYDE PARK TO ENTRAIN FOR HORNCHURCH.ToList

To face p. 28

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

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

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

We were drilled early and late; we were instructed in the art of guard
mounting; we peeled potatoes in [29]the cookhouse; we fetched coal from
the quartermaster’s stores; we fell in to get our rations from the
cookhouse; and last, but not least, we began to grouse. That was our
first advance to becoming real soldiers. At least, so the author was
told by an old N.C.O. who had marched with Roberts to Kabul, and who
was again in the Service, too aged to do more than to instruct, but
not too aged to do that well.

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

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

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

THE CAMP: HORNCHURCH.ToList

INTERIOR OF A HUT: HORNCHURCH.ToList

To face p. 30

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

To get back to the purely military side, however. We groused at the
amount of drills and night operations, to being hut orderlies, going
on guard, and so on. But we did them as a means to an end. Then we had
the rudest shock of all. We learnt we were to embark on the task of
digging trenches—somewhere in Essex! That put the lid on things, so
we considered. We, infantry soldiers, to dig trenches! It couldn’t be
right. We thought the Engineers, or the Pioneers, or somebody else,
always did that. Our job was to carry a rifle, and to shoot Germans.
That’s how the rank [31]and file looked at it in the first place. Of
course they discovered other things when the Battalion got to France,
but that’s another story.

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

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

Sometimes it rained, sometimes it snowed, occasionally, very
occasionally, it happened to be fine. But we got on with our work,
waiting for the bugler to blow for the midday lunch. When “cookhouse”
went we [32]straightened our backs, got some of the mud off our boots,
and proceeded to take what the gods (in this case the quartermaster)
were good enough to give us. We always had two guesses, and we were
always right. It was either bread and cheese, or bread and bully. If
we were fortunate we might be able to purchase beer at a local
hostelry, or Oxo at a village shop. If not so fortunate, the
waterbottle or, if again lucky, a pocket-flask was brought into
service.

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

To resume the trench digging. As we were later complimented on the
quality of the work we did, we must have shone in the way of handling
the pick and the spade. At the end of our labours, when the “fall in”
was sounded, we were quite ready to say we were looking forward to a
hot meal in our huts in camp, where, outside, the breezes whispered
through the [33]branches of the trees lining the drive, where the moon
silvered the tin roofs of our living quarters, and all was bright and
jolly—in the sergeants’ mess!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

SERVICE OVERSEAS—HEAVY FIGHTING ALL ALONG
THE FRONT, AND A TRIUMPHAL MARCH INTO GERMANY.ToC

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

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

On November 23 a move was made to Busnes, the first part of the route
being over badly cut up second-class roads, and the remainder on pavé.
The men, the war diary tells us, marching in greatcoats, and carrying
blankets, found the march very trying. [38]Billets in the area La
Miquellerie were reached at 3 p.m. Distance, 11½ miles.

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

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

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

Then began the first experience of the Battalion in warfare. Before
being trusted to hold a line by itself [39]it had to serve an
apprenticeship. This was done by attaching, in the first place,
platoons, then companies, and then the half-battalion to battalions in
the line in order to learn the work and what was expected of them.

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

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

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

It was a very busy time, for No. 3 Company held [40]command of the sap
head at New Crater, a spot where German snipers were particularly
troublesome. A gas attack was ordered upon the enemy, but, much to the
disappointment of the officers and men, it proved a “wash-out” owing
to the breeze dying down at the last moment. On December 21, however,
as the wind was favourable, a gas attack took place on a front of
about a mile. It was on this day that Captain Cameron, of No. 1
Company, was wounded in the arm by a piece of high-explosive while
entering the front line.

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

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

There was also a special bombardment on this day, and the Battalion’s
first patrol, consisting of four men and an officer, went over the
parapet, being out in [41]No Man’s Land for an hour. During that time the
party located a sniper’s post, cut out some wire from the enemy’s
entanglements, and were persistently sniped at themselves, while great
difficulty was experienced in maintaining direction.

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

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

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

1916.

The New Year opened quietly, the usual rest-time routine of kit
inspection, squad drill, route marching, and so on, being indulged in,
a draft coming up from the base on January 7, while on January 11 the
first leave for officers commenced. Then came a move, and [42]on January
19 the Battalion marched to Le Touret, relieving the 6th Queen’s
Regiment, the 99th Infantry Brigade taking over a sector of the front
at Festubert from the 37th Infantry Brigade.

LT.-COL. H.A. VERNON, D.S.O.ToList

To face p. 42

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

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

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

Le Quesnoy was the next move, made on February 3, and relieving the
1st Royal Berks on February 7, the [43]Battalion was in turn moved out of
the trenches into the village line Givenchy on the 11th, remaining
there until the 15th, when it again relieved the 1st Royal Berks in B3
sub-sector Givenchy. On the 17th the Battalion was relieved by the
16th Royal Welsh Fusiliers and moved to Le Quesnoy, remaining there
until the 27th, when it proceeded to Barlin. On February 28 another
move was made to Petit Sains, relieving the 22nd Royal Fusiliers, and
on the 29th the Battalion took over the Souchez North sector of
trenches from the French 77th Infantry Regiment.

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

Reclinghem was the next move, made on April 9, and on April 11 there
was a Brigade field day, another reinforcing draft arriving on the
same day. Then on the night of April 21-22 the Battalion relieved the
1st King’s Royal Rifle Corps in the Souchez second sector of the line.
So the end of the month arrived with alternate duty in the trenches
and rest in billets.

More reinforcements, to replace wastage, arrived in the early part of
May, and on the 23rd the Battalion was in the trenches at Berthouval,
marching to its billets at Camblain l’Abbé on May 30. Working [44]parties
were naturally provided for the trenches while the Battalion was
resting, and two men were accidentally wounded on the 4th. But things
were moderately quiet until the night of June 10-11. On that date the
Battalion relieved the 17th Middlesex Regiment in the Carency left
sector of the front.

On June 21 Lieutenant-Colonel Vernon was wounded whilst visiting a sap
head held by Jerry Delaney, the boxer, Major H.V. Pirie assuming
command of the Battalion until he returned to duty. The Battalion was
relieved by the 1st King’s Royal Rifle Corps on the night of June
22-23, and proceeded to billets at Villiers aux Bois. The next move,
on the 27th, was made to Estrée Cauchie.

The Somme Fighting.—Then came the move to the Somme and the
July of 1916, when the average life of the infantry subaltern in
France was only worth three weeks. Many, indeed, were killed within a
week of their crossing the Channel, on the very first day of entering
the trenches and taking part in the British advance. The 23rd Royal
Fusiliers were engaged in the whole of the desperate fighting on the
Somme, including the battle of Delville Wood, the story of which is
told in another part of this volume.

Following this bath of blood, on August 1 the Battalion left Bund
support trench, two companies going to Longueval Alley, and two
remaining to garrison and dig trenches at Montauban.

Becoming united again, on the 29th the Battalion, [45]under the
impression that it was going out for a promised rest after its battle,
moved to The Citadel, Sandpit Valley, and on to Mericourt l’Abbé;
thence on to Fremont (passing through Amiens), Naours, Longuevillette,
Authie, and Bus les Artois; and next, instead of the longed-for rest,
found itself back in the trenches again at Hebuterne, relieving the
1st Coldstream Guards!

September was spent in the Hebuterne sector, and October saw many
moves. Starting with Coieneux (Basin Wood) the Battalion was at the
Redan (Serre sector), Mailly-Maillet (where the church, it will be
remembered, had been protected by means of fascines), Raincheval, and
Acheux Wood, where the rail-head and the factory with its tall chimney
were bombed heavily from the air and shelled by the German heavies.
Finally, on October 30, the Battalion relieved the 2nd Highland Light
Infantry in the Redan right sub-sector, being in the trenches there
when the month drew to a close.

November saw the Battalion taking its part in the Battle of Beaumont
Hamel. Told by the War Diary this month’s events were:

The following month, December, the Battalion also spent in rest at
Oneux.

1917.

On January 9 a move was made from Oneux to Candas, to Beauquesne on
the 11th, to Bouzincourt on [48]the 13th, and to Aveluy on the 20th. From
there it went into the trenches at Courcelette, “A” and “C” Companies
being in the front line, and “B” and “D” in support.

On February 1 the Battalion moved from Courcelette to Ovillers Huts,
and on the 5th went on to Senlis, moving to Wolfe Huts on the 15th,
and into the line for operations a day later.

Intense cold was experienced at this time. The ground, like iron, was
covered with snow. The frost was intense, one man being actually
frozen stiff at his post on sentry, and drinking water carried to the
front line arrived as lumps of ice, from which bits were chipped for
eating.

An attack on the German trenches was made on February 17. Unluckily a
day before the attack the frost gave way, a very rapid thaw set in,
making No Man’s Land deep and heavy with slush and mud. Moving to the
attack over such ground was terrible; the objective line was reached,
but the following casualties were sustained:

[49]The Battalion held the Red Line on February 18, and in the night was
relieved and moved to Ovillers Huts again. On the 24th it moved to
Bruce Huts, and on the 26th to Albert, returning to Ovillers Huts on
the 27th.

March 5 found the Battalion back in the trenches at Courcellette, and
on the 10th “D” Company cooperated with the 1st Royal Berks and the
1st King’s Royal Rifle Corps in an attack on Grevillers Trench and
Lady’s Leg Ravine, taking the ravine, killing about 20 of the enemy,
and capturing 30 men and 2 machine guns. The casualties of the company
amounted to 7 other ranks killed, 26 wounded, 1 accidentally wounded,
and 2 died later from their wounds.

The following day the Battalion moved to Wolfe Huts, and on the 19th
to Albert again, proceeding from there to Contay, Amplier, Bonnières,
Framecourt, Aumerval, and Bailleul les Pernes.

Vimy Ridge.—From Bailleul les Pernes the Battalion moved up
to Larosette, behind Vimy Ridge, ready to go in and take over a part
of the Ridge after its capture in the coming battle for its
possession. On the night of April 11, in a blinding snowstorm, the
Battalion relieved the 1/5th Gordons on the captured Ridge, and on the
13th continued the advance to the line of the railway, captured the
village of Bailleul, established a line on the enemy side of it, and
sent out patrols to Oppy, which was found to be very strongly held by
the enemy.

Swaine, photo.

LT.-COL. E.A. WINTER, D.S.O., M.C.ToList

To face p. 50

[50]Owing to a mistaken order, one platoon of “C” Company actually
advanced on Oppy to capture it, but were themselves taken prisoners
after severe fighting. During this advance one 77mm., two field guns,
and one 4.2 howitzer were captured, and whilst moving forward, at the
Colonel’s side, to the railway embankment, the Adjutant of the
Battalion, Captain Lissaman, was killed by an enemy shell.

Being relieved on the 14th by the 1st Royal Berks, the Battalion moved
into support and reserve lines, but on the 18th were in the trenches
west of Ecurie, moving to a tent camp on the Roclincourt-Maison-Blanche
road on the 22nd. Another move, to Maroeil, was made on April 23, and
on the 25th the 17th Royal Fusiliers were relieved in the trenches west
of Bailleul.

On April 29, at 4 a.m., “B” Company took part in an attack on Oppy by
the 1st Royal Berks and the 1st King’s Royal Rifle Corps, and then the
Battalion moved back into reserve trenches.

On May 1 a composite battalion was formed of two companies of the 23rd
Royal Fusiliers and two companies of the 1st Royal Berks, and moved
forward to a position in front of Oppy to deliver an attack on the
Oppy-Fresnoy line.

Attacking on March 3, Fresnoy trench was captured with between sixty
and seventy prisoners and a machine gun. Heavy counter-attacks were
made by the Germans during the day, and, in view of these [51]and the
retirement of the troops on the right, it became necessary to retire
along Fresnoy trench. At 3.30 a.m., on the night of May 3-4, the
Battalion was relieved by the 15th Warwicks, and moved back to disused
enemy trenches in the Roclincourt area, the total casualties sustained
being 7 officers and 122 other ranks.

On May 5 Lieutenant-Colonel Vernon having proceeded on leave, Major
E.A. Winter assumed command, and on May 24 Lt.-Colonel Vernon having
to report to the War Office on promotion to Brigadier-General, Major
Winter was promoted Lieutenant-Colonel, and appointed to the command
of the Battalion. On the same day the Battalion moved into the line
again, relieving first the 1st Royal West Kents, and then the 22nd
Royal Fusiliers.

June 1 saw the Battalion relieved by the 1st King’s Royal Rifle Corps
in the front line (Oppy-Arleux line), and moved back to Deutscher
House and Thelus Wood, working parties for the front line being
provided each night. On the 4th, the 22nd Royal Fusiliers came in as
the relief, and the Battalion moved to St. Aubyn for rest.

This did not last long, for on June 8-9 the Battalion relieved the 1st
King’s Royal Rifle Corps in immediate support, Oppy-Arleux line, the
casualties sustained being one other rank killed and two wounded.
Then, relieving the 22nd Royal Fusiliers, the Battalion went into the
front line, being relieved in turn on the night of June 13-14 by the
Royal West Kents, and proceeded to Bray.

[52]On June 20 the Battalion was taken by omnibus to Beuvry, and on the
21st relieved the 2/5th Manchester Regiment in the front line, Cambrin
left sub-sector, the casualties being two other ranks killed and six
wounded. A German raid on the Battalion right was repelled at 3.30
a.m. on the 27th, and the 22nd Royal Fusiliers came in as relief on
the evening of that day, the Battalion proceeding to Noyelles for
rest.

July opened with the Battalion training at Noyelles under company
arrangements, so far as it was possible, having in view its proximity
to the line and liability to observation by the enemy. On July 3 the
Battalion went into the front line, Cambrin left sub-sector. Six days
later it went into support with headquarters at Annequin.

July 5 saw the Battalion, less two companies, in the Cambrin left
sub-sector front line, Major N.A. Lewis assuming command in the
trenches, with 100 Corps cyclists attached, while Lieutenant-Colonel
Winter remained at Annequin for the purpose of training “C” and “D”
Companies for a raid.

About 3.30 a.m. an enemy raiding party, about fifteen strong, entered
the front line, wounding and carrying off one man. Bombing parties at
once bombed along the trench, driving the raiders out, who came under
Lewis gun and rifle fire both on entering and leaving their objective.
On returning to their own lines they left our wounded man, who was
brought in. The body of one of the enemy was found in No Man’s [53]Land,
but a complete search could not be made owing to the light. At night,
however, a patrol went out and brought in the body of the dead German.
Other bodies had apparently been dragged back to the enemy trenches.
Our casualties were only four wounded.

On July 20, at 10.30 p.m., a raiding party, consisting of two officers
and about a hundred other ranks, crossed to the enemy’s front and
support lines, the object being the capture of these two lines, the
infliction of loss on the enemy, and the securing of prisoners and
identifications. The raid was preceded by a hurricane barrage from our
artillery, Stokes’ mortars, and machine guns, being also accompanied
with a discharge from oil projectors.

Very few of the enemy were found in the front and support lines, but
small parties who were in dug-outs were bombed. Five of the enemy were
also bayoneted in a communication trench. The main garrisons of the
lines had apparently retired, and no prisoners were taken. Our
casualties during the raid were two killed, fifteen wounded, and five
wounded and missing.

Then came a move into reserve at Annequin, but from the 27th the
Battalion moved into the front line of the Cambrin left sub-sector
again up to, and including, August 1. From then until the night of
August 25 the Battalion were doing duty in the trenches and in
reserve, but on the 26th was relieved by the 8th Sherwood Foresters,
and moved to Oblinghem.

There training was carried on, and on September 6 [54]the C.O.,
accompanied by the company commanders and specialist officers,
reconnoitred the Givenchy support line. On the following day the
Battalion proceeded to the village support line, no shelling being
experienced during the relief of the 17th Middlesex. On September 13
the Battalion relieved the 22nd Royal Fusiliers in the Givenchy left
sub-sector front line, a battalion of the Portuguese troops being
attached for instruction.

Gas was projected upon the enemy on the 14th; there was no
retaliation, and on the following day the Portuguese were relieved by
another of their battalions.

About a hundred enemy heavy shells fell on September 16 near the right
company’s headquarters at Barnton Tee, Barnton Road, blowing in the
trench in five places. A bombardment on the left, which commenced
later, ceased on our retaliating. On September 17 the Portuguese
troops left the trenches and returned to their billets, while on the
night of the 18th-19th the Battalion was relieved and proceeded to
Beuvry.

Training there until September 26, the Battalion then relieved the
22nd Royal Fusiliers in the Cambrin left sub-sector, and finding the
enemy to be ominously quiet, a patrol was sent out to Railway Craters.
On the following night eight small patrols were sent out into No Man’s
Land, and on the 28th two patrols reconnoitred the enemy wire. On the
following day eight [55]small patrols were established in No Man’s Land
to cover work in the trenches, and, ensuing upon this, the German
artillery became fairly active.

A move into support, following relief, was made on September 2. On the
5th the Battalion was relieved, and the companies marched
independently to the Orphanage, Bethune, then on to Raimbert, the
Battalion being watched on the line of march by Generals Pereira and
Kellett.

At Bourlon Wood.—Training was carried on, and on November 5
the Battalion made a move through Busnes, Merville, and the Eecke area
to the Herzeele area. More training ensued, and a strong rumour was in
the air that the 2nd Division was “for Italy.” The Battalion was
equipped up to the last button, all ranks were looking forward to a
change of scenery and new phases of fighting; the medical officer
lectured the Battalion on the perils to be avoided in relation to
charming Italians, and spirits were high and merry.

But the first attack on Cambrai took place, and instead of going to
Italy the 2nd Division was hurriedly moved south by road and rail to
take over the line from troops which had conducted the attack.

On the night of November 26-27 the Battalion had reached
Beaumetz-les-Cambrai, from which it was moved up to the slopes of
Bourlon Wood to take over from elements of the 2/4th King’s Own
Yorkshire Light Infantry and the Bays. The march along the Cambrai
road, across the captured Hindenburg Line, and on to [56]the Sugar
Factory will long be remembered by those who took part in it.

Again it snowed—it is curious how many important moves of the
Battalion took place in a snowstorm. This time, however, it was a
blessing, for it deadened the sound of moving troops, and certainly
saved the Battalion being heard and shelled by the enemy.

On the line (if a few scattered posts in shell-holes can be called a
line) being taken over, the Battalion at once set to work to dig
itself in, profiting greatly by the recent training it had received in
“intensive digging.” On the left was the 1st King’s Royal Rifle Corps,
and on the right the 62nd Division, the battalion in support being the
1st Royal Berks. The Battalion held the line on the 27th, and on the
28th changed places with the 1st Royal Berks, going into support
positions to them.

On the 30th the heavy enemy attack developed, and the Berks being hard
pressed, three companies of the 23rd were moved up to their support.
The enemy gained a footing in their line, and one company of the 23rd
was used to counter-attack and re-establish the line, which it
successfully performed.

The 17th Royal Fusiliers, on the Berks’ left, having severe fighting,
a section of the 23rd was sent to strengthen their posts, and help was
given in supplying them with bombs and S.A.A. On the evening of
December 1 the line was readjusted between the 1st Royal Berks and the
23rd Royal Fusiliers—the [57]Berks taking the left and the 23rd the
right. On the night of December 1 the position of the Battalion was:
two companies and two platoons in the line; two companies, less two
platoons, in support.

On the night of December 2 the unit on the right of the 23rd Royal
Fusiliers pushed forward its line. In order to keep touch with them,
one company from the support positions went over with them at 8.10
p.m. The advance was successful, the objective duly gained and rapidly
consolidated—one prisoner and one machine gun being taken in the
advance.

Then came a great disappointment to the troops who had fought so well.
Further south the enemy’s counter-attack had proved successful,
converting the position held by the 2nd Division into a very dangerous
salient, from which it was imperative to retire.

The necessary orders were issued, and at dead of night, December 4-5,
the Battalion retired through Graincourt to Hermies. To cover the
retirement two sections per company were left in the line with orders
not to retire until just before dawn, and to spend the night in moving
up and down the vacated line, firing Verey-lights and rifles to delude
the enemy into thinking the line was still held.

By this ruse the Battalion was enabled to carry out the difficult
operation of withdrawing in the face of the enemy without his
knowledge. The sections so left behind gallantly carried out their
tasks and safely rejoined the Battalion at Hermies.

[58]From December 5 the Battalion was in support, but on the 11th it
relieved the 21st Londons in the Hindenburg Line, and, after relief,
marched on December 20 to Gropi Camp, where Christmas was spent in
tents in the snow. In reserve until the 30th, it then relieved the
22nd Royal Fusiliers in the left canal sector (Canal du Nord) of the
Hindenburg Line.

1918.

On January 3 the Battalion, relieved, marched independently by
companies to Barastre for Divisional rest. January 23 found them at
Villers Plouich in the Vacquerie right sub-sector, the Battalion
headquarters being in Farm Ravine. On February 3 they entrained on the
light railway for Equancourt, where they were placed in Divisional
reserve. Not much time was spent in this way, though, for on the 9th
the Battalion entrained for Trescault, and proceeded from there to the
Vacquerie right sub-sector, remaining in the line there until going
into reserve at Equancourt again on the 15th.

On February 22 a move was made to the line again in the Vacquerie
right sub-sector. On the night of March 6-7 the Battalion was
relieved, and marched to Metz, where they were billeted in huts. It
was impossible, however, to secure any real rest here, for the camp
was shelled intermittently both during the day and the night.

The afternoon of March 12 saw the Battalion back [59]in the trenches
again at Lincoln Reserve and Midland Reserve, “D” Company being in
Snap Trench. There was a heavy gas-shell bombardment by the enemy on
the nights of the 12th, 13th, and 14th, the Battalion suffering heavy
casualties, also intermittent shelling during the day and night, while
there was, as a welcome change, a raid on the enemy front line by the
Battalion on the night of March 13-14. Then came the relief of the
Battalion, which marched back to Equancourt, a rest for the Battalion
being absolutely necessary owing to the fact that all the remaining
members were suffering from gas poisoning.

The German Offensive.—Next came the great offensive by the
enemy—the time when the Germans almost thrust their way right through
by force of numbers.

The first indication of the break-through which the Battalion received
was enemy bullets actually falling in the camp. Every man turned out,
the Battalion took up a line north of Equancourt in an attempt to hold
up the advance of the enemy, patrols being sent forward into Fins,
where it was found the Germans had succeeded in establishing
themselves.

On the following morning an enemy attack was beaten back with heavy
loss, but both its flanks being “in the air” the Battalion received
orders to retire on Le Transloy. Moving though Hayettes Wood, Ytres,
Bus, and Rocquigny, Le Transloy was reached late at night, where the
Brigade from which it had become separated was rejoined.

[60]Moving again before dawn, a line was taken up round Gueudecourt, which
was held during the day. Making another move at dusk, a fresh line was
established at Eaucourt l’Abbaye. Very heavily attacked on the
following day, the Battalion was forced to fight a rearguard action,
retreating through Le Sars on Pys, where another stand was made.

Again slipping back at night, a position was taken up near Beaucourt
sur Ancre. From this position the Battalion again moved back and
occupied the old British trenches known as White City trenches near
Beaumont Hamel. In spite of many heavy enemy attacks this position was
held until the Battalion was relieved by New Zealand troops.

On relief it marched out to the wood at Mailly-Maillet only four
officers and seventy men strong.

Resting at Englebelmer for a day or so, it was again moved into the
front line at Aveluy Wood, where a German attack was beaten off, the
enemy being badly mauled. During the fighting round Gueudecourt,
Brigadier-General Barnett-Barker was killed, and, as senior Colonel in
the 99th Brigade, Lieutenant-Colonel Winter assumed command, the
command of the 23rd Royal Fusiliers devolving upon Major Lewis.

In his anxiety to hold up the enemy for as long as possible and to get
the battalion back safely to a line being formed behind him, Major
Lewis was taken prisoner at Eaucourt l’Abbaye. The command [61]then
devolved upon Captain C.H. Bowyer, who kept it until the return of
Lieutenant-Colonel Winter, who rejoined the Battalion on General E.
Ironside (now General Sir E. Ironside, who earned fame in Russia)
taking over the Brigade.

It only remains to add that the gas casualties from March 12 onwards
amounted to 11 officers and 240 other ranks, while the casualties in
action from the 22nd to the 31st were:

During the early part of April the Battalion was busy in moving, being
in turn in Hedeauville, Beauval, Houvin, Houvigneul, Ivergny,
Coullemont, La Cauchie, and on the 14th relieved the 1st Coldstream
Guards in Brigade Reserve in front of Blaireville. Two days later it
was in the front line, right sub-sector, in front of Adinfer, doing
alternate front line and support duty until the end of the month.

It was not until May 12 that the Battalion marched back to billets at
Berles au Bois, where training was carried on until June 7. On that
date it relieved the 1st Grenadier Guards in the Ayette left
sub-sector. Relieved on the night of June 10-11, it marched back to
[62]reserve position near Monchy au Bois, going into the line again in the
Ayette sector on the night of 13th-14th.

During the night of June 24-25 “A” Company carried out a raid on the
enemy front line, and at 2 a.m. on the 26th “B” Company also carried
out a similar operation. July came round, and on the night of the
22nd-23rd the Battalion supplied a flanking party to a raid carried
out by the 1st Royal Berks. On the 30th the Battalion was in the
Ayette right sub-sector, but on August 5 and August 6 there was a
reorganization of the Brigade front, and it went into support.

Then came the British advance, and on the night of August 20-21 the
Battalion moved up for an attack by the 3rd Army. Leading off in a
dense fog, the 23rd Royal Fusiliers went over the top at Ayette,
capturing Aerodrome Trench, and so clearing the way for other troops
to leap-frog over them and capture Courcelles.

Moving forward again in its turn, two companies of the Battalion,
under Major W.B. Cluff, captured Behagnies. On the night of August
23-24, being relieved by the Loyal North Lancs, the Battalion moved
back to bivouac near Courcelles, where it remained until September 2.
Moving forward on that day to Vaulx-Vraucourt, it attacked at dawn on
the 3rd and reached Morchies, bivouacking near Doignes.

On the 6th-7th the Battalion took over the front line from the 1st
King’s Royal Rifle Corps and delivered an attack on Slag Avenue,
suffering casualties of 3 officers killed and 100 other ranks killed
and wounded.

[63]Relieved on the 8th by the 52nd Light Infantry, a bivouac was made at
Beaumetz-les-Cambrai, moving on the 15th to Mory. On the 27th the
Battalion moved forward in support to the Brigade which was fighting
its way onwards, and spent the night in the Hindenburg Support Line
just west of Flesquières.

The advance continuing, the Battalion moved again at dawn on the 28th,
reaching Nine Wood just west of Noyelles. From here one company was
sent forward and assisted the King’s Royal Rifle Corps in capturing
Noyelles. Then the remainder of the Battalion moved up and took over
the front line from the 1st King’s Royal Rifle Corps. Attacking on the
30th, the Battalion found itself up against the strong position of
Mount sur l’Ouvres, suffering casualties of two officers and
sixty-four other ranks. This position could only be subsequently
captured by the use of a whole new brigade for the purpose.

German Tanks Unsuccessful.—Relieved at night, the Battalion
moved back to bivouac at Nine Wood. Remaining there, resting, till
October 7 the Battalion moved up to east of Rumilly on the night of
7th-8th, and delivered a successful attack on Forenville at dawn on
the 8th. During a counter-attack the enemy used tanks against the
Battalion in an endeavour to oust it from the positions secured, but
without success.

On one tank, indeed, getting close to our line an officer, Lieutenant
Anderson, armed with a rifle, and [64]accompanied by his batman, got out
of the trench, went forward under heavy fire, reached the oncoming
tank, hammered at its side with his rifle-butt, and called on it to
surrender. The iron door opened, and out came the crew, to be escorted
back in triumph as prisoners!

On the early morning of the 9th the Guards’ Brigade “leap-frogged” the
Battalion and continued the attack, the Battalion moving back to
bivouac at Flesquières. Remaining there for a few days, a move was
made on the 13th to keep in touch with the general advance, Wambaix
being reached after a long march.

Training was carried out here until the 19th, when the Battalion
marched to Boussières. At midnight on October 22, under the command of
Major H.P. Rogers, it moved up to St. Python, and on the 23rd to
Escarmain, taking over the front line from the 52nd Light Infantry. At
dawn on the 24th it attacked and captured Ruesnes, and established a
line of outposts on the railway beyond. This was the last actual
fighting done by the Battalion. Relieved on the 26th by the 7th King’s
Shropshire Light Infantry, it moved back into reserve.

With the signing of the Armistice came a welcome change. Duty was
relaxed so far as was possible, and the Battalion employed the rest of
the year in fitting itself out, and getting back into something
approaching its old condition, and marching into Germany, a distance
of 200 miles.

1919.

January found the Battalion in billets at Niederaussem, forming part
of the British Army of Occupation in Germany. Training was still being
carried on, however, but sport was not lost sight of. There were
platoon football matches, whist drives, paper-chases, and so on, while
there was also voluntary educational training in such things as
English, French, and shorthand.

On January 24 came the presentation of the King’s Colour to the
Battalion by Major-General Pereira. Later, on the reorganization of
Divisions taking place, the Battalion on February 27 left the 99th
Brigade, 2nd Division, in which it had served so long, proceeded by
rail through Cologne to Ehreshoven, joined the London Division, and
took over the outposts of the Occupied Zone at Lindlar on March 18.

On April 15, the Battalion then being back in Cologne, the command was
taken over by Brevet Lieutenant-Colonel L.F. Ashburner, M.V.O.,
D.S.O., Lieutenant-Colonel Winter being appointed to the command of
the British Camp at Antwerp. On May 6 the Battalion was inspected and
complimented by General Sir William Robertson, G.C.B., K.C.V.O.,
D.S.O., Commander-in-Chief British Army of the Rhine.

In the event of the non-acceptance of the Peace Terms by Germany,
preparations were made between [66]June 8 and June 19 for an advance, but
the orders on June 20 were held in abeyance and subsequently
cancelled.

PRESENTATION OF COLOURS: NIEDERAUSSEM, GERMANY, JUNE
24TH, 1919.ToList

To face p. 66

On June 22, at the Brigade swimming gala, the Battalion won two-thirds
of the prizes put up for competition, although they had previously
lost (2-1) in the “Kalk” football cup final to the 57th Siege Battery.

Battalion sports were held at Klef, near Vilkerath, on July 19, the
championship being annexed by “C” Company. A competition for the best
company in the Division was won by “D” Company, who were subsequently
called upon to furnish a guard of honour on the occasion of the visit
of the Army Council to Cologne.

The Battalion also scored in another way, for on August 1 the War
Savings results for July were announced. The amount subscribed by the
23rd Royal Fusiliers was £1,137 19s. 1d., the percentage of members
being 51 per cent, of the Battalion strength, and the Battalion being
top of the VIth Corps list for the amount subscribed.

Finally, the 23rd (Service) Battalion Royal Fusiliers (1st
Sportsman’s) ceased to exist in March, 1920, after having had a longer
life than any other Service Battalion of the Royal Fusiliers.

GREAT WORK ACCOMPLISHED—HOLDING UP A
GERMAN
ADVANCE—SILENCING SNIPERS IN A
DERELICT TANK—AND
SOME OTHER THINGS

GREAT WORK ACCOMPLISHED—HOLDING UP A
GERMAN
ADVANCE—SILENCING SNIPERS IN A
DERELICT TANK—AND
SOME OTHER THINGSToC

From the official narratives available it is possible to amplify, in
some few instances, the great work accomplished by the Battalion, and
which is told but tersely in the War Diary from which the previous
pages have been collated.

Taking May 3, 1917, as an instance, when the 23rd Royal Fusiliers
formed a part of the attacking force, we are told it was determined to
capture—

The above, it may be explained, entailed the Brigade having, on the
whole, a fighting front of no fewer than 2,200 yards.

“The task of the 23rd Royal Fusiliers, forming the [70]left assaulting
battalion, was to capture a certain sector of Fresnoy Trench, to form
two strong points, and to form four posts….

“The whole of ‘C’ Battalion (the 23rd Royal Fusiliers) gained their
objective, but, owing to a slight loss of direction, found the enemy
still occupying Fresnoy Trench to their north.

“A strong bombing party was immediately organized, the trench cleared,
sixty to seventy prisoners and a machine gun captured, and touch
established with the Canadians at the south end of Fresnoy Wood. At
about 5.45 a.m. a strong enemy counter-attack developed from Oppy,
which, coming up over Oppy Support and Crucifix Lane, and over the top
by several well-covered approaches, worked its way north, and attacked
the right company, whose flank was left bare owing to the retirement
of ‘B’ (another) Battalion.

“This attack was pushed home with the greatest energy and
determination, and succeeded in driving the right two companies and
part of left centre company out of Oppy Trench. At this point,
however, it was brought to a halt by a strong bombing and sniping post
of the 23rd Royal Fusiliers, who not only stopped it, but
counter-attacked in their turn, and regained some 400 yards of the
trench.

“This party then halted owing to numerical weakness and lack of bombs,
and retiring a short way, formed a block and a post, and occupied a
shell-hole line from the first point named through the second and [71]a
little beyond it, thus forming a defensive flank in close touch with
the Canadians.

“This party held out all day, until relieved by the 15th Warwicks at
3.30 a.m. A strong point was also formed immediately after dark and
handed over to the 15th Warwicks on relief….”

“In one instance the garrison of a post calmly watched an enemy
machine-gun team establish a machine gun in position; they then opened
rapid fire, killed all the team, and brought in the gun….”

Amongst the gallant services mentioned by Major-General Pereira in the
special order of the day, dated December 17, 1917, is the following:

“No. 1,079 Lance-Sergeant James Cochrane, M.M., and No. 2,852 Private
Frank Hemington: In the enemy lines west of Bourlon Wood there was a
derelict tank, from which enemy snipers were very active at only 70
yards from our line, causing many casualties.

“On December 1, Lance-Sergeant Cochrane and Private Hemington
volunteered to deal with them. Creeping out through our wire, they
succeeded in reaching the tank in spite of heavy enemy fire. They put
two Mills’ bombs into the tank, and on the bombs exploding they came
under heavy machine-gun fire, but returned in safety. No further
sniping came from this tank. By their gallant work we were saved many
casualties, and this daring feat cheered and encouraged the men in the
line….”

In the desperate fighting in March, 1918, the Battalion also
distinguished itself.

[72]“Hexham Road,” says the narrative of the morning of the 25th, “where
the headquarters of the 23rd Royal Fusiliers was in a dug-out, had
been swept by machine-gun fire all the morning, and as the Divisions
on the right had retired, the 23rd Royal Fusiliers were left in a very
precarious and isolated position, from which only small bodies of men
were able to extricate themselves….”

Then, however, came March 28, and here our men were afforded an
opportunity of getting their own back. It is with delight that we
consequently read:

“The old trenches were, on the whole, in surprisingly good condition,
the men had ammunition and had had some sleep and food, and orders had
been received that this was to be the line of resistance, and that
there would be no further retirement.

“It was a day of anxiety, but still a day on which our men could at
last settle down to shooting down the enemy. This they did with great
relish.”

Bald, perhaps, these details may appear to those who have judged the
war from the pen pictures of the various war correspondents, but they
possess the ring of real reality to those who have known what it is to
be shelled day after day and night after night in the trenches, to
have advanced in the face of a rain of machine-gun bullets, or to have
been forced to take shelter in an all too small shell crater, when to
show an inch of head or body meant death or a serious wound.

PRESENTATION OF THE KING’S COLOUR—MAJOR-GENERAL
SIR C.E. PEREIRA,
K.C.B., C.M.G., AND HIS PRIDE IN THE BATTALION

PRESENTATION OF THE KING’S COLOUR—MAJOR-GENERAL
SIR C.E. PEREIRA, K.C.B., C.M.G., AND HIS PRIDE IN
THE BATTALIONToC

His pride in the Battalion was expressed by Major-General C.E.
Pereira, C.B., C.M.G., on the occasion of the presentation of the
King’s Colour at Niederaussem, Germany, on January 24, 1919.

“First of all,” said Major-General Pereira, “I will tell you how
highly I esteem the privilege of presenting these colours to-day.

“For two years,” he went on, “I have had the honour to command the 2nd
Division, and I have been proud of your work in the Field and out of
it, and of the fine spirit which you have always shown.

“These colours are given you as a mark of the magnificent service you
have rendered in the campaign during the last four years.

“The record of the Regiment during the whole of its service will
compare with the services of any battalion in the British Army,
whether in the Somme fighting, 1916, Courcelette, Vimy Ridge, and
Bourlon Wood in 1917, the retirement from the Cambrai salient in
March, 1918, or the recent victorious advance which culminated in the
overthrow of the Germans. In all [76]these operations, in spite of mud,
heat or cold, or desperate resistance, you have always shown the
dogged determination to win.

“It is a fine tribute to the British race that a newly-raised
battalion, without any previous traditions, which are such assets to
regular battalions, should have outfought the German battalions,
trained to war for generations.

“Perhaps your finest record is that of March, 1918, when along a great
part of our front detached Divisions fought their way slowly back from
position to position, facing overwhelming numbers, and an enemy drunk
with the idea that the final victory was theirs; it was then, when
short of food, without rest, short of men, that you showed what you
were made of, and after successive days of retirement you turned and
held the Germans.

“It is fitting that the work of this Battalion should be crowned by
the victorious march to the Rhine, and that your colours should make
their first appearance in a conquered country—a country which has
taken us four and a half years to reach.”

“GOOD-BYE, AND GOOD LUCK!”—BRIGADIER-GENERAL
A.E.
McNAMARA, C.M.G., D.S.O., AND HIS
FAREWELL TO THE
23RD ROYAL FUSILIERS
(FIRST SPORTSMAN’S BATTALION)

“GOOD-BYE, AND GOOD LUCK!”—BRIGADIER-GENERAL
A.E.
McNAMARA, C.M.G., D.S.O., AND HIS
FAREWELL TO THE
23RD ROYAL FUSILIERS
(FIRST SPORTSMAN’S BATTALION)ToC

Appreciation of and admiration for the Battalion was also expressed by
Brigadier-General A.E. McNamara, commanding the 99th Infantry Brigade,
when he bade it “good-bye and good luck” on February 25, 1919, when it
left the 2nd Division to join the London Division.

“Owing to the reorganization of the Army of Occupation,” he said, “the
23rd Royal Fusiliers, the oldest member of the 99th Infantry Brigade,
is leaving it.

“I wish to place on record my high appreciation and admiration of the
magnificent services of the Battalion while in the 99th Infantry
Brigade.

“The Battalion came out to France with the 99th Infantry Brigade in
November, 1915. Since then it has taken a leading part in all the many
and strenuous battles in which the Brigade has been engaged. In these
eventful three years we have seen together good times and bad, but
whether things were good or evil the 23rd Royal Fusiliers have ever
shown the same high discipline, esprit de corps, and indomitable
spirit which eventually beat down all resistance and won the war.

BATTALION HEADQUARTERS: HORNCHURCH.ToList

THE BATTALION PIERROT TROUPE: GERMANY.ToList

To face p. 80

[80]“The battles of Delville Wood, Bourlon Wood, Ayette, Behagnies, Mory
Copse, Canal du Nord, Forenville, and Ruesnes stand out in history as
a record of the achievements of the 23rd Royal Fusiliers—a record of
which the Battalion may well be proud.

“The Battalion is now going to another Brigade and another Division. I
wish it the best of luck, and know it will maintain the high
reputation for discipline, efficiency, and, if need be, fighting,
which it has built up since its formation.

“In bidding it farewell, I wish to thank officers, N.C.O.’s, and men
(including the gallant comrades who have fallen in the fight), for
their gallant services when in the 99th Infantry Brigade. It is they
who have borne the brunt of the hardships and the fighting, and it is
they who have won the war.

“I cannot express how sorry I am to lose the Battalion, or how proud I
am of the honour I have had of having had it under my command.

“Good-bye, and good luck!”

THE BATTLE OF DELVILLE WOOD—AN ADVANCE
IN FACE OF
HUNDREDS OF MACHINE
GUNS—A PERSONAL NARRATIVE

THE BATTLE OF DELVILLE WOOD—AN ADVANCE
IN FACE OF
HUNDREDS OF MACHINE
GUNS—A PERSONAL NARRATIVEToC

To the personal side of the late war we have, in a measure, been
introduced by various war correspondents. But there has always been
something actually lacking, and that something is the touch and the
atmosphere which can only be introduced by those who have been through
the baptism of blood and fire.

In the following pages the real touch is introduced. Every incident
is told by a man who has actually seen and experienced what he
describes. These incidents are in the actual words of the writers.
Nothing is altered.

Here, then, is the story of the capture of Delville Wood by the 1st
Sportsman’s Battalion in 1916, told by Major N.A. Lewis, D.S.O., M.C.:

“For two days before the fight the Battalion occupied some trenches
near Bernefay Wood, and sustained a number of casualties from
shell-fire. Battalion headquarters was a shelter dug in a bank at the
side of Bernefay Wood. This shelter was constructed by Albany, the
sculler, and as he was killed in the fight it was his last job as
dug-out constructor. Needless to say, he did this job excellently.

[84]“For some hours before the Battalion moved off to take up its
position, the Huns shelled the area with gas shells. Fortunately,
however, just before 11 p.m., the time for starting, a breeze sprang
up, and we were able to move without wearing gas masks.

“The move up was not pleasant. The area had been much fought over, it
had been impossible to bury the dead for ten days, and it was a hot
July!

“Our artillery was firing to cover our move up. Just after passing
Longueval one of our shells dropped, unfortunately, near the platoon
which, with the C.O., I was following. As luck would have it, though,
only one man was badly wounded. The platoon, of course, went on, and
the C.O. went over to the man who had been hit.

“‘It’s hard lines, sir,’ said the man.

“‘I know it is,’ said the C.O., ‘but you will soon be all right. The
stretcher-bearers are coming.’

“‘Oh, it’s not that,’ was the man’s rejoinder. ‘It’s being hit now!
Here have I been all this time in France without having a real go at
the b——s, and now the chance has come, here I go and get knocked
out.’

“The C.O. made only one remark to me as we passed on. It was: ‘Well,
if that’s what the rest of the Battalion feels, I have no fears for
to-morrow.’

“We took up our position in a trench at the edge of the wood. This was
all that remained after the South Africans had been beaten back, and
our attack was to [85]start at dawn on the following morning. This attack
was in two parts, two companies to take the first objective, a trench
in the centre of the wood, and two companies to capture the far edge,
and dig themselves in there. The 1/60th were on our right, each
battalion having half the wood allotted to it.

“The waves formed up in position shortly before dawn, and it was our
first experience of going over the top as a battalion. The men,
however, were quite cool and cheerful; in fact, one, named Lewis
Turner, asked me, ‘How long to go?’ I looked at my watch, and said,
‘Five minutes.’ His reply was, ‘Oh, then I’ve time to finish my
breakfast.’ And he did.

“At zero our barrage started, and our first waves were off, the thing
I noticed most being that most of the men were smoking as they went
over. The whole wood was immediately full of machine-gun bullets.
There must have been hundreds of machine guns—up in trees, hidden in
the undergrowth, in fact all over the place. The Hun artillery came
down on all the approaches to the wood, but not on the wood itself so
long as any of their own men were in it.

“Owing to the position of the wood, however, at the apex of a captured
triangle of ground, we received fire from both flanks, and also from
our right rear, as well as from the front.

“The first objective was quickly taken, and then there was a pause
before the advance to the second. A large number of prisoners came in,
and were herded [86]up near Battalion headquarters’ trench. We then found
that we were up against the Brandenburg Regiment, which had been
specially sent up to hold the wood.

“A number of these prisoners next got into a shell-hole near Battalion
headquarters, refusing to come farther, and one of the funniest sights
was to see our R.S.M., Sergeant-Major Powney, who, as a rule, was most
dignified, rush at them, and kick and cuff them out of it.

“I said to him: ‘Sergeant-Major, that’s not your job.’ He replied: ‘I
know that, sir, but I couldn’t help it.’ Poor Powney was wounded later
in the day, and died of his wounds.

“The advance to the second objective started promptly, but the Hun
fought hard for a time, and held us up. Every bush seemed to contain a
machine gun, and a redoubt on our left front caused us many
casualties. This redoubt contained several machine guns, with overhead
cover, and a first-aid post. As soon as the C.O. received news of this
check he sent up two reserve Lewis guns. These worked round the
redoubt, and, finding an opening, killed most of the garrison, and
then rushed it. The survivors fled, but Sergeant Royston found one of
their own guns was still in action, and finished them off with it.

“Dealing with Counter-Attacks.—The final objective was
quickly reached and consolidated, and for a while our men had a
pleasant time dealing with [87]counter-attacks from the front. The field
of fire was good, and they quickly dealt with all the attempts made to
push us back. Our casualties, though, were very heavy, particularly
amongst officers. At one time ‘A’ Company was commanded by
Lance-Corporal Goodman, and another company by a C.S.M.

“Then the Hun artillery got busy on the wood, which was, of course, an
ideal mark. For the rest of the day they simply poured heavy shells
in. It was pretty terrible. Trees were torn up by the dozens, and fell
blazing. By the end of the day there was nothing but shattered stumps.

“The Medical Officer had a busy time, and owing to the barrage could
not evacuate his wounded. The aid post was filled, and the overflow
had to be put in shell-holes round about. The consequence was that
many of them were killed as they lay there. Owing to the barrage, too,
the sending of messages back to Brigade headquarters and the companies
in front became almost impossible. Out of sixteen headquarter runners
no fewer than fourteen became casualties before mid-day.

“One message was sent back by carrier pigeon, and a message received
from the Brigadier read: ‘Hold on. Reinforcements are being sent.’ The
reply of the C.O. was: ‘Of course we shall hold on. We are being
hammered, but our tails are still up.’

“As the day wore on many efforts were made to get round our flanks and
turn us out. Bombing [88]parties crept up, and had to be dealt with by
our bombers. It was in one of these tussles that Jerry Delany (the
famous boxer) was killed.

“At one time word came from our comrades on the right that the Hun had
broken through. So we sent over a party to their assistance, and
finally repelled the attackers. We spent the whole of the afternoon
and evening in this way, but when our relief came up that night we
handed over the wood intact.

“The scene at night was awful, the wood being ablaze in many places. I
read messages and wrote out the relief orders by the light of a
blazing tree, which had fallen across the shell-hole then being
occupied by Battalion headquarters.

“During the night our Brigadier came up and held a conference in our
shell-hole. One of our men, Corporal Walker, who was attached to the
Brigade Machine-Gun Company, came to this conference, and when asked
by the Brigadier what he wanted, replied: ‘I have reason to believe,
sir, I now command the Machine-Gun Company.’ This was actually the
case, and he brought the remnants out, being badly wounded in doing
so.

“We were relieved by the 6th Brigade, and at dawn returned to our
quarters at Bernefay—that is to say, those of us who were left. Our
casualties were nearly 400, over 60 per cent, of those who went in.
Out of eighteen officers who went into the wood, thirteen became
casualties, every company commander being [89]included in this number,
while the 1/60th suffered equally heavily.

“As I was making out our casualty return in our headquarters’
shell-hole by the light of the blazing trees, our Quartermaster
appeared with the rations. He threw a newspaper down to me, with the
remark: ‘You’ll find something interesting in that.’ I opened the
paper, and found a full column describing how the South Africans took
Delville Wood!

“When we were moving back into support, I noticed a horrible smell,
and found it was due to the fact that almost every man was smoking a
Hun cigar, large quantities of which had been found in the trenches,
together with large quantities of soda-water.

“One of the Hun officer prisoners remarked that our advance through
the wood was the finest thing they ever saw, but that he objected to
being captured by civilians.”

Some Lighter Stories.—Another story of Delville Wood,
introducing the M.O.

“During the Delville Wood show a captured Hun Red Cross man was
lending a hand in the Battalion aid post. Suddenly a scuffle was heard
on the steps of the dug-out, and the prisoner went to see what was the
matter. ‘What’s happened?’ asked Doc. Isaac, busily engaged in
bandaging a wounded man.

“‘Oh, it’s only some of those b—— Bosches!’ was the reply….”

[90]There were many middle-aged men in the First Sportsman’s. This
introduces one of them.

“The Battalion was marching down the main street of Carnoy when a
charming French girl of about eighteen dashed into the line of route,
evidently with the idea of ‘parleyvooing’ with one of the young
sports. She commenced in a breezy manner chatting with my father, a
youngster of fifty, not noting, at first, his grey hair. Suddenly he
turned his head toward her and smiled. ‘Oh, papa!’ she ejaculated, and
fled….”

The Quartermaster is a noted personage in the Army. This is to
introduce him.

“While the Battalion was at Aix Neulette the transport came under
shell-fire one morning. The shells came nearer and nearer, in a direct
line with the water-carts, highly polished, the pride of the corporal
in charge. The personnel eventually thought fit to take shelter in an
adjacent shell-hole until the Hun had finished his unpleasant pranks.

“Over came the fifth shell with a whistle and a scream, and—bang!—up
went the two carts in the air, while shell fragments flew all over the
place. Hanging on a line were various articles of washing, the clean
clothes of the water-cart crew. These were in the line of fire, and as
a consequence were well perforated.

“Now comes the sequel. They were taken to the [91]Quartermaster on the
following morning, and, so it is said, he refused to replace them on
the ground that the holes were not the result of fair wear and
tear!…”

Two gentlemen rankers are introduced here.

“After some months of hard roughing it, two of the Battalion cooks
decided to apply, modestly, for commissions. So they duly appeared
before the Colonel. But the summons to attend did not give them time
in which to get out of their cooking rig, and the sergeant paraded
them in their old overalls.

“‘Hem. Where were you educated?’ asked the Colonel of one man.

“‘Rugby and Oxford,’ was the reply.

“‘And what were you in private life?’ asked the Colonel, turning to
the other.

“‘A painter.’

“‘A painter?’ queried the Colonel.

“‘Yes, sir. I have exhibited at the Royal Academy….'”

Many Germans left London when the war started, to fight against us.
This is one of them, turned up as a prisoner.

“We were up the line one day when a patrol brought in a Hun prisoner.
Of course we wanted information, for we were expecting an attack of
some sort that very night. So we hauled our man up before the C.O. and
started asking him questions. [92]We tried him in German, and got no
reply. We tried French with him, and it had no result. Then, seeing he
was eyeing a water-bottle eagerly, I suddenly thought he might be
thirsty.

“‘Ask him if he would like a drink,’ I suggested.

“‘I should,’ came the reply, in quite as good English as I could have
spoken myself. Naturally I was surprised, and I asked him where he had
learnt his English.

“‘In London, sir,’ was the rejoinder. ‘I worked as a barber close to
Holborn for years.’

“We gave him a little drink of whisky, and he told us there would be
no attack that night. But we took no chances. A guard, with fixed
bayonet, was placed over him, and he was told in English that he would
be the first to get his medicine if he had played us false.

“He had not, however. No attack was made, and he was sent back behind
the lines to the ‘cage’ next day….”

Another.

Overheard in the ranks on the march up the Cambrai Road in a
snow-storm to take over at Bourlon Wood.

“Italy!” said the Doc. “It looks more like being another b——
Wood!”

EXPERIENCES AS A PRISONER OF WAR—EXTRACTS
FROM
THE DIARY KEPT BY
“MR. BROOKS, THE SCHOOLMASTER”

EXPERIENCES AS A PRISONER OF WAR—EXTRACTS
FROM
THE DIARY KEPT BY
“MR. BROOKS, THE SCHOOLMASTER”ToC

“Reported missing.”

Many poignant memories attach to such a bald announcement as this.
Dead—probably a prisoner of war—perhaps. And there have been those
who would have preferred, had they had the chance, of a death under
the open sky to imprisonment under the Hun.

In the diary of a 23rd Royal Fusilier, “Mr. Brooks, the schoolmaster,”
as he was once dubbed by his captors, tells the story of how he was
made a prisoner, his detention by the enemy, and his eventual return
home.

The arrival of a parcel, he says, was a red-letter event; the problem
of how much to eat at a time, and how much to save out of his rations
for the provision of another apology of a meal, was a big one. Boiled
nettles and dandelions for dinner and tea on Whit Sunday, 1917, proves
what the fare actually was; quarters of eggs were unaccustomed
luxuries. “I have picked mouldy crusts off the ground, and prunes off
dust-heaps,” he says.

Dry bread and tea was a luxurious meal; beards had to be cut, or
pulled out by means of borrowed scissors; [96]one loaf, and a small one
at that, had to prove sufficient for the needs of five men; there were
occasional intervals of twenty-two hours between meals. “We were
thinking of nothing but food,” he explains. All this time, too, the
prisoners were engaged in heavy manual work, humping bricks, loading
and stacking hay, and so on.

While in hospital, “Mr. Brooks, the schoolmaster,” sold his boots for
tobacco and his socks for bread, and he mixed his jam ration with
coffee in order to eke it out. “Personally, I am hungry all day long,”
is how he describes his feelings. “I bought about one-sixth of a loaf
for seventeen cigarettes.”

“I was rather slow in getting into bed,” is how he describes another
of his experiences, “and the German orderly picked up my satchel and
hurled it against the wall, open as it was, at the risk of spilling
its contents.”

He pays a deep tribute to the humanity of the French who were still
living in the occupied territory; the Belgians he met were also kind;
some Germans showed traces of feeling, others were no better than
brutes….

Here, however, are actual extracts from the diary itself. They speak
for themselves.

“Three or four Germans began to advance, and it seemed to me that the
question which had been at the back of my mind since a second or two
after the first opening of the guns, Was this the end? was about to be
answered….

[97]“With many signs to hasten, my German hurried me on. Soon, with three
others, I found myself by poor old Bill Shoebridge, a good old
grumbler of some fifty summers, who had been cruelly sent out to us in
December, and had kept his end up well, with, at times, many
grumblings. He was painfully hit above the knee….

“We came to the village, yet unsmashed, but showing signs that it had
received a knock or two. OPPY was printed in black letters on white
boards in various places, and after wondering for some time what Oppy
meant I found it was the name of a place…. We were then marched off,
and after some more wandering found ourselves in a kitchen with two or
three Germans, who looked quite comfortable, well fed, and at home….

“The Germans we saw almost all regarded us kindly, though many of them
had something of mockery in their looks. We now began to see a few of
the French inhabitants. They are splendid. Willingly they give us all
they can spare, and much that they cannot. Were it not for the fact
that they are not allowed to give, and that all their gifts have to be
sub rosa, we should, I think, want for little….

“Then came the first unpleasant incident. A poor Frenchwoman rushed
out and gave a loaf to one of us. One of the guards, a boy of about
nineteen, snatched it out of his hands, and threw it on the pavement
in front of the woman.

[98]“At Phalemphin station we were all included in a party of eighty. We
were addressed in English by a German officer. The gist of his remarks
was that we were to be marched to our destination, and that any man
who tried to escape would be incontinently shot, also that any man who
did not behave would be punished….

“After this day, Saturday, April 28, for more than five and a half
weeks, day in and day out, we left our prison between 6.15 and 6.40,
struck work and returned for dinner between 11.15 and 1.30, according
to the job, left the prison at 1.30 (if we had not arrived for dinner
until after 1 we got extra time), and struck work any time between
5.30 and 10.30….

“In our (British) lines if one (a prisoner of war) has to work extra
time, one always gets time off to compensate, also one has plenty of
food to work on. Here, extra work carried no compensations. The work,
especially latterly, was mainly unloading trucks, pushing the trucks
about, and packing the contents of the trucks in various stores.

“In the yard were always parties of French and Belgians working, and,
if allowed, they would have given us their souls. At the commencement
of our stay, however, we were told to take nothing from the French,
and it was certainly not many days before we found it was almost
impossible to take anything from them because the penalty was so
great. Whenever [99]the French and the Belgians did get a chance they
availed themselves of it….

“Let us never forget that we also got things from the Germans. Until
we reached Phalemphin we had received no rough or cruel treatment
whatever….

“At Douai our gaolers were without exception friendly and kind; at
Lille our gaolers were taciturn, and when they did speak, though loud
and threatening in words, laid hands on no man. We were, therefore,
expecting no man-handling, and it came as a fearful shock. It is my
impression that man-handling began in about four days’ time, but it
may be that some smaller incident, such as being thumped in the back
by the guard, had passed unnoticed as being mere playfulness on their
part.

“As to man-handling, it began slowly and increased in frequency, and I
think in severity, as the time went on, until, to me at any rate, it
became somewhat of a nightmare. Within a week of our arrival at
Phalemphin the guard would rush at, beat, strike, or kick any man who
had a pipe or cigarette in his mouth while we were being counted in
the yard….

“Suddenly the man in charge in that part of the yard appeared. It was
the first time I had seen him. Judging from first impressions, he was
a quiet, self-contained, steady kind of man, rather like the great
‘Agrippa’ in ‘Shock-headed Peter’ to look at…. Suddenly the man
changed, and with a sudden rush was amongst us.

[100]“‘Agrippa,’ thinking he was being disparaged, flew at Barber and
struck him violently two or three times in the face. One of our
sergeants, named Morley, remonstrated, and in a second ‘Agrippa’ had
struck him two or three times in the face….

“I don’t know what you would think of one and a half spoonfuls of jam,
or grease, or preserved meat, or half an uncooked herring for the only
thing to eat daily in addition to dry bread and a bowl of soup at
midday, but such are our rations, and I can tell you that by now one
has got to look forward to the day’s issue as a very big thing….

“The first ‘tying up’ shows him, the sergeant-major, at his best as a
wise judge, jury, and executioner…. The method of tying up was as
follows: In the garden behind our barn were some trees. The man had to
stand with his feet close together and his back to the tree; he was
then tied to the tree by a strap round the ankles.

“His hands were tied together behind his back and the strap passed
round the tree. The third strap was the worst; it was tied round the
man’s neck, and tied tightly round the tree, so that the back of the
man’s head was against the tree.

“Of course, a good deal depended upon the guard—some guards would tie
all the straps lightly, some would tie some men tight and others
loose, and so on. The most popular tree for tying men up to was not
[101]straight, so that being tied up tightly to it was no joke, as I can
vouch for….

“A favourite pastime of the sergeant-major was to come and watch the
men at work. Then, indeed, did everyone buck up…. On one occasion I
saw him mercilessly belabour an Australian boy with his stick. The boy
had not been able to respond quickly enough to his order.

“Well, it is six months to-morrow since I had an English meal. (This
is written in hospital.) The last three days I have tried the tip of
having a drink of coffee at breakfast-time, and having my breakfast
between 8.30 and 10, but I don’t know that it is any better. Strange
are the ways of this hospital—no soap and no clean bedding since I
came in.

“Sometimes peace and go as you please, sometimes every little rule
fussed about. Clothes and food are not in any way satisfactory, but
one is getting a rest, and that is what one should remember….
Suspense. Waiting with, oh, how many hopes and fears, for that parcel
to turn up. Hungrier and hungrier, and with the dread of tobacco
running out….”

Then in conclusion comes a pathetic little personal note.

“I have never read this through since I returned in December, 1918.
Seeing the mention of Bull a few pages back reminds me that I
afterwards heard he had died in hospital. I wrote to his wife on my
return, and found she was a widow.

[102]“The Germans reported that her husband had died from wounds in Mons
Hospital. I was with him all through August, and he had no wounds. I
saw him in hospital in November, and he had no wounds, only boils. So
I do not see how he died of wounds.”

THE HONOURS’ LIST

NAMES OF OFFICERS AND MEN AWARDED DECORATIONS
AND
MENTIONED IN DESPATCHES

THE HONOURS’ LISTToC

OFFICERS

N.C.O.’S AND MEN

THE ROLL OF HONOUR

OFFICERS AND OTHER RANKS
WHO DIED THAT ENGLAND
MIGHT LIVE

THE ROLL OF HONOURToC

OFFICERS

N.C.O.’s AND MEN