The Auckland Regiment
Officers of the Original Auckland Infantry Battalion, Epsom, 1914.
being an account of the doings on Active Service of the First, Second and Third Battalions of the Auckland Regiment
by2/
Lieut.
,O. E. Burton
Medaille d'Honneur
W.&T. LTD
Press of
Whitcombe & Tombs Ltd.
Auckland, N.Z.
"I have seen with the eyes of God. I have seen the naked souls of men stripped of circumstance. Rank and reputation, wealth and poverty, knowledge and ignorance, manners and uncouthness, these I saw not. I saw the naked souls of men. I saw who were slaves, and who were free; who were beasts, and who men; who were contemptible, and who honourable. I have seen with the eyes of God. I have seen the vanity of the temporal, and the fiery of the eternal..… I have understood the victory of the Cross. 'O, Death, where is thy sting?'"
While the New Zealand Division was still in France, in 1918, it was decided that preliminary steps should be taken to compile the histories of the different units of which the Division was composed. In August, 1918, a Divisional Order was issued directing the senior officer in each Regiment or analogous formation to make proposals for the commencement of this undertaking, and the method of effecting it. The rapid progress of the war during the autumn of 1918, and the quick demobilisation which followed the Armistice, prevented the idea being executed as originally intended. No steps were therefore taken towards writing the history till the Division had returned to New Zealand, and much time, and, what was still more important, the opportunity of collecting valuable material had then been lost.
At a conference of senior officers held in Wellington in November, 1919, it was resolved that the histories of the different formations should be written, financial provision being made from the accumulated canteen funds of units. For the Auckland Regiment,
and by it the necessary arrangements have been made.
The committee commissioned
It is believed that substantial accuracy has been obtained in all names and dates in this book, especially in the appendices. Some errors probably have occurred, and the Committee will be grateful for notes of any corrections that should be made. The thanks of the Committee are due to
My very pleasant task has at last been completed, and soon the History of the Auckland Regiment will be published. That it will be widely read I feel certain—not because of any merit in the book, but because so many of us loved the old Regiment, and look back with pleasure on the many happy days we spent together. They were rough and dangerous times, but they were made bright by the fine friends we met at every turn. For most of us the wartime will always remain the most vivid and interesting part of our lives.
It may seem strange that I, who am a pacifist, should write a war history. Yet surely one can be quite consistent and do so. Whatever one thinks of war and the causes of war, it is undoubtedly true that in battle the finest sides of human character develop themselves. Valour, self-sacrifice, steadfastness, devotion to duty, gentleness and brotherliness are all great virtues. They shone pre-eminently in those days when Life and Death were the stakes we played for. It is fitting that the boys who are now growing up to manhood should never forget that these are the things which should always characterise the New Zealander. If the story of the Auckland Regiment will serve to set some sort of standard of manhood for the boys of Auckland, I will feel that the writing of it has not been altogether in vain.
I do not suppose that a single member of the Regiment will be satisfied with the book, and many will disapprove quite violently. Critics will please remember two things: First, that I am not
Many names have been mentioned. In my judgment, and from the evidence at my disposal, they seemed the most worthy. The main trouble came not with the names put in, but with those left out. I know that many first rate men have been missed, and some will feel disappointed at not getting the mention they so thoroughly deserve. They have been omitted simply because my information has not been as full as I wish it had been. If a second edition of this book should ever be required, perhaps everything can he put right; for I will carefully file all criticisms, suggestions, information, etc., which I know will pour in upon me—After publication.
My thanks are due to all who have assisted me either by the loan of diaries or by giving up their time for personal interviews; also to the Regimental Committee, who have very carefully read all manuscripts, and whose advice and suggestions have been most helpful.
I hope that, if nothing more, this book may serve to quicken old memories and help many of you to live over again the great days when we marched and fought, bivouacked and billeted in Egypt, Gallipoli, France and Flanders.
With best wishes to all my old comrades—better ones a man could never want!
.Ormond Burton
Alexandra Park
"For all we have and are,
For all our children's fate
Stand up, and take the war,
The Hun is at the gate!"
In the first three days of August, 1914, there were hopes, fears, doubtings, but an ever-increasing undercurrent of certainty that war would come.
The Germans crossed the Belgian Frontier. The word came. It was War.
Kitchener accepted the offer of a New Zealand Expeditionary Force, and mobilisation commenced at once. On August 11, Alexandra Park was opened as a military camp. and the Auckland Infantry Battalion was formed.
It was decided that the four Military Districts into which New Zealand had been divided under the Territorial scheme should each provide a Regiment of Infantry, composed of one battalion, and thus form the New Zealand Infantry Brigade, consisting of the Auckland, Wellington, Canterbury, and Otago Battalions. The Infantry Brigade, together with a Brigade of Mounted Rifles, Artillery, and Divisional Troops formed the original N.Z.E.F.
In the Auckland District there were in existence four Infantry Regiments: the 3rd (Auckland), 6th (Hauraki), 15th (North Auckland), and 16th (Waikato). Each of these Regiments provided a Company, and also certain specialists, to form the Battalion for service overseas. The four companies of the Battalion thus formed retained the names and badges of the Territorial Regiments from which they were drawn. The organisation and commands were as follow:—
- Commanding Officer: Lieut.-Colonel Plugge
- Second-in-Command: Major Harrowell
- Adjutant: Capt. Alderman
- Machine-gun Officer: Capt. Wallingford
- Asst.-Machine-gun Officer: Lieut. Fraser
- Quartermaster: Capt. Graham
- Transport Officer: Lieut. Morgan
- Medical Officers (attached): Dr. Purchase, Dr. Craig
- Chaplain: Rev. Clarkson
3rd (Auckland) Company—
- Officer Commanding: Major Dawson
- Second-in-Command: Capt. Price
- Platoon Commanders: Lieuts. Macfarlane, Woolley, West, and Carpenter
6th (Hauraki) Company—
- Officer Commanding: Major Stuckey
- Second-in-Command: Capt. Sinel
- Platoon Commanders: Lieuts. Morpeth, Algie, Flower, and Dodson
15th (North Auckland) Company—
- Officer Commanding: Major Bayly
- Second-in-Command: Captain Bartlett
- Platoon Commanders: Lieuts. Screaton, Steadman, McClelland, and Weir
16th (Waikato) Company—
- Officer Commanding: Capt. MacDonald
- Platoon Commanders: Lieuts. Allen, Peake, Westmacott, and Baddeley
In Alexandra Park men shed their civilian clothes and received that weird and wonderful collection of odds and ends that are so essential for the making of the perfect soldier. They learned that the Battalion was composed of four companies, to wit, the 3rd (Auckland), the 6th (Hauraki), the 15th (North Auckland), and the 16th (Waikato), all presided over by Battalion Headquarters, where lived the Colonel, the Adjutant, the Doctor, and other all-important people. They learned, too, that a company consisted of four platoons, and that each platoon was subdivided into four sections. A man got to know his own section, the majority of his platoon, a certain number in the company, and, beyond this again, a few S.S. Waimana, otherwise His Majesty's New Zealand Troopship No. 12, was being fitted out; but yet the weeks were passing, and the "Herald" and "Star" were every day announcing such a startling and brilliant succession of victories that surely the downfall of the Kaiser could be expected at any time.
"Wandering spirits seeking lands unknown,
Such were our fathers, stout hearts unafraid.
Have we been faithless leaving homes they made
With their life's blood cementing every stone?
Nay,…
Their restless spirit bade
Us fight with those whose homeland was their own."
On the evening of September 22nd, the men carrying the greater part of their baggage, marched down to the boat, and were allotted their quarters. Next day an immense crowd assembled in the Domain to farewell the Auckland Battalion and the details who had been with them in the Epsom camp. The men marched through a great throng to the wharf. Merry raillery, handshakes, kisses, and tears, and then the people were shut off by the wharf gates. There was little delay, and just as the transport pulled away the gates were opened, and the crowd came running down to wave a last farewell. North Head was passed, Rangitoto, Tiri, the waters of the Hauraki Gulf, and then the vessel turned northward. About midnight she was in the vicinity of Cape Brett. All was running smoothly when suddenly there was a startled exclamation: "Bli' me, Bill, the blanky moon's turning round!" Whatever might be the moon's intention, there was no doubt that the Waimana was turning. To the complete and utter surprise of every man awake, she went round in a circle and headed south. At dawn she was off Rangitoto, and the sound sleepers, upon waking and seeing the familiar outline, rubbed their eyes in amazement.
"What have you come back for?" signalled Fort Cautley.
"It was too dark outside," wagged back a signaller, "so we have come back for the Torch,"
As a matter of fact, they had returned because the Pyramus, scouting well ahead, had come into contact with the German Pacific Fleet.
For the next fortnight the Battalion lived on board the boat. The short experience at sea had shown up several defects in the internal arrangements, which were rectified. The men landed every day for training, and, of course, had opportunities of saying good-byes all over again.
On October 11th, the Waimana left once more—this time for Wellington—where the whole of the Expeditionary Force assembled.
At dawn, October 16th, 1914, the escorting warships moved out, with the transports following in file. Hobart was the first port of call, and here everyone was landed for a route march, which developed into a very fine affair. Varying opinions were expressed about the beauty of the town, but there was no doubt about the kindness of the people, or the heartiness of their welcome. They thronged round the marching men, walking beside them, breaking into the ranks, and pressing on everyone gifts of the famous Tasmanian apples, cigarettes, and bunches of flowers. It was the greatest burst of spontaneous welcome the New Zealanders ever received, with the exception, perhaps, of the march through Verviers, in liberated Belgium.
At Albany, the A.I.F. greeted the N.Z.E.F. with much cheering, and then on November 1st the whole great fleet put to sea. The columns of ships covered many miles, and from the deck of the Waimana, bringing up the rear, the foremost boat could be located only by the streamer of smoke above the horizon. In the Indian Ocean the weather soon became unbearably hot, and all sorts of wonderful costumes made their appearance. There was little to do but swelter. The sea was a sea of glass, beautifully calm, and of the deepest, most lovely blue imaginable. There was no swell, and the ship moved surely and steadily, with just a fleck of white foam ahead, and the long wake behind. The chief occupation of all hands was to invent and circulate rumours. News consisted of scanty scraps of wireless. With nothing to do all day except lounge round the decks, eat, sleep, smoke, and yarn, it was the most natural thing in the world for the intellectuals to
A typhoid inoculation at this time was by no means a rumour. It gave the Medical Staff a busy day, and the troops a new topic of conversation. Legalists discovered that this inoculation, being a surgical operation, could not be performed without the consent of the individual. Military authority, apparently, could not be enforced on this point, and pressure only could be brought to bear. The great mass of commonsense people submitted without a murmur, but a few cranks held out, and were ultimately sent back to New Zealand.
The days passed happily enough, without any great event. Lights were never shown, and the closest watch was kept. The Waimana was running a double risk—from the enemy and from the ship in line ahead. The Ruapehu was a somewhat erratic performer, and was always liable to indulge in little freaks of wayward fancy, whenever her steering gear took a spell off.
At 6.30 on the morning of the 9th, the flagship MelbourneSydney, which steered away towards Cocos Island. The Ibuki tore round the head of the convoy, flags flying, smoke belching from her funnels, and took up station on the exposed flank. There was something doing all right, and excitement rose high. At 9.30 news came that the action had commenced. Two hours later the Colonel came out with a message form: "Emden beached and done for." At once the ship was transformed into a raving, cheering crowd of excitables. For the next few days an emanation of joy hung over the fleet.
Crossing the line the fun was fast and furious. Major Dawson represented His Most Marine Highness, while Lieut. Woolley was the brazen hussy, his bouncing bride. Due notice was given of the Royal visit, and all arangements made. A big canvas bath was set up, and to see that no unauthorised duckings took place before the appointed time. Sergt.-Major King, the Provost-Sergeant, personally mounted guard. He, in all his glory, was too much of a temptation, and certain of the onlookers of the baser sort tipped him "up-and-over." In he went, authority, dignity, uniform and all, with a fine splash. The Padre, the Rev. Clarkson, was taking photos of the gay scene. His spotless raiment was suddenly spoilt by a wellaimed bucket of greasy water. History records that he immediately, in no very muffled tones, swore a good loud swear. Majors, captains, rank and file, all went the same way. Conscientious objectors were summarily dealt with. The bandmaster took refuge in his cabin, and locked the door. This was promptly screwed off its hinges; but he repelled the attackers with his drawn sword. It was a clear case for a barrage, and he was finally overwhelmed by a concentration of three fire-hoses. By this time pandemonium had broken loose, and for two hours a good-natured but very boisterous mob held sway. "McAndrew's Put-Away-Brigade" were very prominent. The cooks kept up a very heavy fire of water on all passers-by. It was a wild day, and everyone at the close was tired and happy.
Colombo was reached, and a little later, the victorious Sydney steamed in through the breakwater, her decks covered with wounded Germans. There was no cheering, for fear of "hurting the feelings of the captive enemy." This was perhaps straining the idea of chivalry to a beaten foe rather far; yet the crew of the Emden had fought bravely, and had done their duty to the uttermost.
It seemed for a while that very few would be allowed on shore, but Colonel Plugge very dexterously managed to misunderstand the orders issued, with the result that everyone went off. Despite thick woollen clothes and a sweltering sun, the few hours on shore made a splendid break. For the majority, it was their first introduction to the wonders of the Magic East. No sooner were the men ashore than they were assailed by a crowd of long-robed skirmishers: "Flowers, master! Cigarettes, master! Master, look here! Rickshaw, master!" Driven off once, they returned with the pertinacity of hungry flies. Everyone was out to push his wares with the rich Colonials, and many were successful beyond their hopes. It was the only chance of sending back Christmas presents to the home folks. Silks, embroidery, beads, curios, ivory elephants, postcards, and odds and ends of all sorts had a great sale. Everyone had a most interesting wander round—past splendid club-houses, green fields and fine parks, through Buddhist temples and the bizarre native quarters. Last, but not least, often first and foremost, the best hotels were thronged with a multitude seeking for the luxury of a civilised dinner.
Colombo, with all its tropical beauty, its quaint picturesque people, its gorgeous sunsets, and its indescribable charm, was away down behind the horizon, and the Waimana was ploughing steadily across the Arabian Sea. Past the barren sunscorched rock of Aden, through the Red Sea, past the Twelve Apostles, leaving Mecca on the one hand and Suakim on the other, until Sinai loomed up in the distance, and passing up the Gulf, the transports came to Suez and cast anchor. All doubts as to destination were quickly satisfied. The N.Z.E.F. was to disembark at Alexandria, and to go into camp outside Cairo, where the training would be completed.
Turks had been reported in the vicinity of the Canal, so the bridge was fortified with flour-bags, and machine-guns were mounted. All on board were hoping that the enemy would be polite, and put himself up as a target. However, he was otherwise engaged, and the Battalion's thirst for blood was perforce unassuaged. It was an interesting trip, with the gleaming yellow desert stretching away as far as the eye could see, the blue waters of Lake Timsah, and the posts of Indian troops guarding the strip of water, who cheered shrilly as the boats passed. One incident occurred at Port Said that will not readily be forgotten, A French man-of-war, the Henri IV, lying at anchor, was cheered by the passing troopships. The Frenchmen lined up on deck and sang the "Marseillaise" with a thrill of passion and an abandonment which made a deep impression. New Zealanders were just commencing to feel the first stirring of the profound realisation of nationality which was to be theirs, as afterwards they marched from one field of glory to another; and this spontaneous outburst of French sentiment moved all hearts.
"For physical beauty and nobility of bearing, they surpassed any men I have ever seen. They walked and looked like the kings in old poems,"
At dawn on December 3rd, before the morning mists had lifted, the masts and spars of innumerable vessels were seen above the horizon, then the brown line of the breakwater, and as the sun gained power, the gleaming white and yellow buildings of Alexandria came into view. The Waimana was berthed, and preparations for disembarkation at once commenced. Much was done during the day, and in the evening general leave was granted. What a night it was! The holds afterwards were full of excited men, everyone talking at the top of his voice, No one listened to anyone else. Everyone was too full of his own experiences—and so the babel flowed on. In one evening they had seen Aladdin's cave, the Forty Thieves, and the houris of the Thousand and One Nights; veiled women, and others whose draperies were of the most diaphanous sort; French, Greeks, Russians, and Italians, with the brown-skinned Egyptians and the black Nubians from the South—all these they had seen, and the spell of Egypt had taken hold of them. They were lured by the sensuous, riotous beauty of the land. They were repelled by the sordidness of the vice, and the bare hideousness which peered out from beneath the most wonderful superficial loveliness. Land of Egypt—Egypt land! And so the talk went on, confused and wild, until all at last fell asleep.
The Battalion entrained for Cairo, and for many hours were running through the Nile Delta; past the reedy shores of Lake Mariotis, where the fisher-folk were mending their nets, and then—
to the palaces and minarets of ancient Cairo. For great distances the highway ran parallel to the railroad. From the very dawn of history, this has always been a greatly travelled way. Moses the Hebrew, the hoplites of Alexander, the legions of Rome, the hosts of the Saracens, Napoleon and the Army of Egypt, all have tramped this dusty road. Great captains, mighty leaders, great conquerors, they and their marching men came and went, and still the rich land brings forth its teeming abundance; still the patient "fellaheen" plough with the ancient share which was known to their forefathers—men of a hundred generations back; in the same fashion they guide the running water into the rightful channels, and three times a year gather in the harvests. Every yard of that journey was crammed with interest. Strings of loaded camels passed in stately fashion with contemptuous jerkings of their heads, little donkeys ambled along quite happily under appalling loads, goats and geese were driven here and there, the quaint oxen marched steadily round and round, turning the waterwheels, and yoked up with the heavy wooden yokes drawing the ploughs and the rough native carts. The black and white robes of the men and women, the occasional red worn by the children, contrasted strongly with the green fields and the brown dusty road. Here and there the train would stop at some palmfringed station, and at once the carriages were besieged by an eager throng selling tomatoes, "orangies," and "eggs-a-cook." Teh-el-Baroud, otherwise "To-Hell-by-Road," was passed, and many another small town and clustering village, until late in the afternoon the outskirts of Cairo were reached, and very shortly afterwards the Aucklanders were detraining at Helmieh station, Zeitoun. A short march, and the Battalion reached its camping ground and made preparations to bivouac for the night on the desert sand."Through fields of barley and of ryeThat clothed the wold and touched the sky,And through the fields the road ran by"—
Fatigue parties were busily unloading the train, assisted by a motley crowd of natives, who did not realise for quite a long
In two or three days time the camp was completed, and then training commenced in earnest. Hard training it was, too. Imperial men with the Battalion reckoned it was harder than anything they had ever done with British troops. Platoon, company and battalion drill, musketry, extended order work, attack, defence, trench digging, tactical schemes, night bivouacs, and above all, route marching with full packs up, hardened the splendid material into a magnificent regiment, perfectly trained for war. A few of the weaker ones broke under the strain, but the majority throve on the hard work.
Seven o'clock in the morning, the companies fell in, swung away out past the Water Towers, marched, fought, dug and drilled for six or seven hours. The day's work over, all were free to do as they pleased. Heliopolis, the wonderful new tourist resort, was close at hand, and from there the electric railway ran straight into Cairo. Every afternoon and evening
From the Citadel one could see the whole city spread out before one's gaze, and not the city only, but away back to the blue horizon from which emerged the silver streak running through a strip of vegetation, which was like a veritable Garden of the Lord. Within the walls of the fortress itself were two fine mosques, the Blue and the White, one of them marked by a shot from a cannon of Napoleon. In the city was the great museum of Egyptian antiquities, the Zoo, and the old slave market, now only a meuldering ruin. Bands played in the Ez-be-kieh Gardens. The streets were thronged with people of all kindreds, and tribes and tongues. Places of amusement abounded, and ranged in quality from such resorts of wealth as Shepheard's and the Continental, to cheap and smelly cafes selling fire-water guaranteed to send a man mad in as short a time as anything on earth. Astonished Staff Officers, with red tabs, gold braid, and eye-glasses found themselves rubbing shoulders with democratic but wealthy young Colonials in resorts which had never been so desecrated before. The keepers of booths in the native bazaars did a roaring trade in curios and trinkets. Hotel and restaurant keepers had a "fearful" satisfaction in reaping their rich harvests of "piastres" and "pounds Egyptian"; but it was a precarious kind of satisfaction, for Allah only knew what the mad Australians and New Zealanders might do next. The Kursaal and the Wassah District were thronged with sight-seers. Much of Cairo was a festering sink of iniquity, repellant and yet terribly attractive. There was not a man in the Battalion, however wild he might run at times, who did not thank God that his own womenfolk were not like the horrible harpies who infested the gorgeous Eastern city. Auckland Town, Whangarei and Hamilton might be slow and drab compared with this continental gaiety, but they were clean and good.
After the hard day's training and the evening of sightseeing and pleasure-seeking, the tired men slept soundly. In the cool of the early morning, before the sun had gained power
The Battalion was very smart in those days; buttons, belts and boots were just as fine as fine could be. Pride was taken in smart drill, but, above all, in guard mounting. This was a very great ceremony. As soon as the Battalion came in from the day's work, each section seized upon their representative and arrayed him in the section's best tunic, trousers, and equipment. He was surveyed from every point of view, polished and repolished. The best rifle, the best bayonet was his. The Guard were "fallen in" and after a very careful inspection the best man was picked out. He had the "stick"—in other words, purely nominal duties for the next twenty-four hours. So keen was the competition that it was often impossible to allot the coveted "stick" on appearance only. All were so good that there was no "best," and to choose finally, military questions were asked. The relief was carried out in great state before a large assemblage of officers, N.C.O.'s, men, bootblacks, and stray vendors of merchandise. Some of the small boys were immensely impressed with the drill, and learnt large
The Annexation of Egypt passed off quietly enough, although the students of El-Azhar, where the Nationalist spirit was strong, murmured a little. To impress the populace with the might and power of the British rule, the Australian and New Zealand troops marched right through the city. The natives displayed no enthusiasm, but any wild thoughts of a rising were speedily given up. The Battalion took part in this march.
Life was good, as life always is when men are as fit as men were in those days; yet an undercurrent of restlessness moved the force. They might be "Bill Massey's Tourists," but sight-seeing, even in the most wonderful land on earth, was not what they had come for. Garrison duty was all very well, but the tide of national feeling was commencing to rise, and New Zealanders felt that they could do more to win the war than keep down a timorous and subject populace. Pleasures commenced to pall, and training became tiresome. The glamour was wearing off from this land of sand and sin. For the first time the fed-up feeling was becoming really strong. Birdwood's thirty thousand were spoiling for a fight. There was bravery in the air.
It was the 25th January, and the companies were seated around the mess tables after the day's work. As always, there were rumours to discuss—there always had been rumours, and probably there always would be. The officers came round to give orders. At first no one was taking any particular notice. It would be just the usual routine of training. But, then, what orders were these? The Battalion would entrain for the Canal! In two minutes the whole atmosphere had become electrical; not a murmur was heard, all was energy and bustle, packing up and getting ready. The camp was in a ferment. "Ball cartridge!" It was handled lovingly, almost reverently. "Field dressings!" So it was to be real war, with wounds and sudden death for some.
The stores were served out and the bayonets sharpened. There is scarcely anything which will bring the morale of good fighting-men up to the last pitch as this sharpening of bayonets. The work was done, and now the whole camp was seething with excitement. Never before and never after was there such a spontaneous burst of enthusiasm. The band was playing and marching around. Men were cheering, singing, shouting, rushing round here and there, shaking hands with friends and enemies. The accumulated rubbish of the weeks in camp, the superfluous stuff that could not be carried, was blazing on the bonfires. The "niggers" came round, looking for a rich harvest of "backsheesh," and were immediately commandeered and tossed in blankets, one or two at a time. They fled howling, pursued by roars of wild laughter. So the fun went on till the small hours of the morning, and even then the men could not sleep, but talked and talked of the prospect of fighting.
The Battalion fell in next morning with full packs up, ready to move to the entraining point. Suez Canal Zone.
On February 26th the Battalion returned to Zeitoun. Amongst themselves the Infantry admitted that there had been little risk and no glory, but the Mounteds and the reinforcements were not permitted to hold this view for an instant. Especially as regards the reinforcements the Canal Battle was of the very greatest importance in maintaining the prestige of the Main Body. Reinforcements were novelties in those days, and as many of them had attained a certain amount of esprit-de-corps in Trentham, it was very necessary to reduce them to a fitting state of humility. The logic of a man who had seen a shell burst was irrefutable, and the reinforcement had nothing with which to counter this tremendous fact.
The camp was established once more on the same spot. The old routine was recommenced, a little harder if anything, but it was a welcome change to be back again in Cairo amidst the great bustle of life and the changing scenes of the gay city. Needless to say, the ranks of the Battalion were full of first-class athletes; and so when the Artillery sent in a challenge to play Rugby football, there was not the slightest difficulty in picking a very fine team. The Auckland representatives were Fitzgerald, Les. Hill, Roy Lambert, McGeehan, Fox, Jock McKenzie, Moki, Fordyce, Savory, Frank McKenzie, Ted Lambert, Smith, Gasparich, and two others.
Two great games resulted, the first ending in a draw, neither side scoring, and the second in a win for Auckland, six to three. Never in all its history had the Egyptian Railway Ground seen such struggles.
The weather grew hotter and hotter. The "fellaheen" struggled with a plague of locusts that a wind brought out of the desert, while the troops were plagued with a great thirst. It was not that the springs of water dried up, but that the wet canteen refused to sell more than one bottle of beer to a man. As a special concession, it was announced that if a written order was produced, signed by an officer, a further quantity of liquor as per order could be purchased. The promotions that took place in the Battalion were astonishing. All pieces of paper with writing on were the same to the Greeks who
In the course of the training, Auckland carried out an attack with real guns firing real shells overhead, a mimic battle, in which the danger was approximately the same as in the Battle of the Canal. The Artillery kept their heads well, and, allowing a wide margin, inflicted no casualties. During this period, Captain Alderman was promoted Major, and took command of the 16th Company. Captain Price became Adjutant, and Sergeant Frater of the Machine Guns received his commission. At last the training had reached such a stage that it was impossible to do more to improve the magnificent physical fitness of every member of the unit. The Battalion could march twenty-five miles in the day carrying out tactical schemes, and all this with every man carrying full equipment and pack.
Cairo once more ceased to satisfy. The "very good guide, sir," who showed as a testimonial a document from "Billjim" of Australia to the effect that, "This guide is no good at all, give him a kick," was apt to get a good measure of bootleather, but very few "piastres." Even those cheerful young street Arabs, the boot-blacks, who clamoured loudly for the privilege of cleaning "Mr. McKenzie's bootsa," were not met with the same good temper as formerly. As for the food-it was stew, stew, stew, and ever more stew. The 15th Company even went so far as to hold a public meeting for the abolition of stews. The spirit of restlessness once more grew and increased. When would the fighting start? They had waited for six months, and still there was nothing but the eternal monotony of training. The witchery and mystery of the East began to lose its novelty and charm. There were great deeds doing in the West. The Old Army was dying magnificently to save Europe. The Territorials had fought their first fight;. The Canadians had a day of glory in Flanders, but for the New Zealanders it was marching until their souls were sick of marching; training until they were surfeited with training, and still their day did not come Training, training, always
On Good Friday occurred the "Battle of the Wassah," in which certain of the Battalion rendered valiant service. The battle was partly a thanksgiving, partly a protest against the current price of sundry filthy liquors, partly an endeavour to suppress the detested Red Caps, and partly a very riotous bit of real good fun carried a little too far. The inevitable result was the stopping of all leave, which in its turn resulted in the cinema catching fire and the canteen being raided. There was such a superabundance of high spirits that steam simply had to be let off somewhere.
Then, at last, after another weary week of waiting, definite orders came. There was a last rush to Mr. Oatts' Y.M.C.A. tent to write letters home. Kits were packed. The tents were struck, and in high good humour the Battalion entrained at the great "Gare de Caire," and so to Alexandria and the waiting transport.
"Imshi Yallah—Mafeesh Felous!"
"Baited like eagles, having newly bathed."
The Auckland Battalion embarked on the Lutzow, a captured German liner, which afterwards made two terrible trips to Alexandria with men desperately wounded, numbers of whom died because there were not the men or the facilities to care for them properly. This dark and terrible side of war was little in the minds of the magnificently trained volunteers who filed up her gangways and rank by rank took up their quarters on the iron decks. At last they, too, were going to war. Greatly elated, they crowded to the rails as the transport slowly steamed through the forest of masts which crowded the harbour, and made for the breakwater and the open sea. They cheered and were cheered. The band was playing. Merry jests flew round. So the harbour was passed, and they, too. had finished with all pleasant and beautiful things. The stately buildings of Alexandria, the tall masts of the ships sank below the horizon, and the Lutzow ploughed on through the blue waters of the Mediterranean.
The food was of very poor quality, bully-beef, biscuits, cheese and tea; and by way of variety tea, cheese, biscuits and bully. The iron decks were hard to sleep on. Iron, having no resiliency about it, does not in any way conform itself to the outstanding features of the human body. Moreover, it grows cold of nights. One wag put it rather neatly writing home to his people. "Dear Mother, we are living on iron rations, sleeping on iron decks, and we are commanded by a fellow called Ian Hamilton." Physical comfort and poor food were, however, small things, for now the "Isles of Greece" were on the right hand and the left. Past Patmos, and many another famous place, the ship swept on through the Ægean, while the men sharpened their bayonets and received their orders.
April 15th, and the Lutzow was running up towards the port of Mudros, which harbour had been selected as the main base of the venture for which the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force had been called into being. A great, commodious haven it was, ringed on all sides by green hills, and with room for a great armada to swing at anchor. Through the booms, past the picquet boat, round a spit of land, and the vessel passed to her anchorage.
Never in all her history had Great Britain brought together such an assemblage of ships. There were battleships, cruisers, destroyers and submarines of the British Navy; auxiliary cruisers, Channel picquet boats, tugs, river boats, oil tanks, water tanks, colliers, store ships, quaint French men-of-war of peculiar construction, the Russian "Packet-of-Woodbines," and then row after row of transports crowded with fighting-men. Atlantic liners, battered tramps, boats of the Cunard line and the Castle Company were moored with the vessels of the Nord-Deutscher Lloyd, with Hamburg and Bremen boats, and with Turkish and Egyptian vessels, which in former times plied through the Straits and the Sea of Marmora. The Gaby Deslys, a tiny tug, buzzed busily around the harbour. The Ark Royal sent up her seaplanes and sometimes the yellow sausage-shaped captive balloon. The Queen Elizabeth, super dread nought, magnificent, majestic, lay in state, surrounded by ships of lesser name.
Day by day the concentration grew larger and larger. A great transport steamed in with five thousand French soldiers aboard. Battalions of the 29th Division, battalions of English Territaorials, Indian troops, Australians, New Zealanders, all came to swell the muster. Here lay the Argonauts before they sailed away for the stormy Euxine and the dark wood of the War God, where hung the Golden Fleece. Here came Agamemnon and his Greeks before they fought the ten years' fight for Troy. Those ancient Greeks live for ever in immortal story, but they were not taller or stronger men, more beautiful in body, higher of heart, or of a more splendid daring than these young unblooded troops who had assembled from the Lutzow, as on board every transport of the fleet, the men were straining at the leash. Cramped in their narrow quarters, with little to do, they were overflowing with energy. Trained to the uttermost perfection of physical fitness, their superb vitality demanded expression, and found none. Above everything, they desired the day of battle and the test of arms. They were impatient, restless, almost bursting with a fierce discontent. Day after day they fell in on the iron decks, with full equipment and packs, clambered down the swaying "Jacob's ladders," and pulled into the shore—then pulled back again to the transport and the weary, monotonous waiting.
At last, on the 23rd April, there was a movement among the transports. All the next day ships were moving to their stations. Now all men knew that the hour had come. There was no more discontent. The Lutzow moved to the outer harbour. The decks were crowded with men, all desirous of greeting their fellow adventurers. Now on the eve of battle, there was a great thrill in the hearts of all. Rejoicing in the full strength of their youth, trained until it was impossible for them to be harder, longing for their baptism of fire and the opportunity of doing some feat of arms which would place them on a level with the heroes of Mons, the Marne and Ypres, they had waited with eagerness and desire for this time to come. Now they were on the threshold of great happenings. The Colonel and his officers were high up on the bridge deck. The men were massed along the rails. As the transport passed through the line of shipping, the band played the national anthems of all the nations represented by the men, who cheered and counter-cheered. The hundred thousand men crowded on the transports were exultant and exulting.
On the evening of the 24th, the Queen Elisabeth steamed majestically out and away; then another great grey shape, and another, and another, and then the transports, line after line. There was a swell of cheering from the Australians and New Zealanders, for at last they, too, were moving out on the heroes' track, and for them, also, the great adventure had Lutsow. The officers spent their last night in the mess joyfully. The sergeants had a particularly merry time, although supper was only the inevitable cheese, biscuits and tea. There were no gloomy forebodings. They might have been going to a picnic, judging by the high spirits shown by all that gallant company. At one o'clock the ship slipped quietly through the boom, and with all lights screened, followed out on the track which for the next nine months was to be so often travelled.
The herdman wandering by the lonely rills,
Marks where they lie on the scarred mountain flanks,
Remembering that mild morning when the hills
Shook to the roar of guns, and those wild Franks
Surged upward from the sea."
The sea was full of ships gliding through the darkness toward the Turkish coast. There was quietness now, after the singing and the jollification of the early part of the evening. Some were playing "two-up," a few were sleeping, but the majority were peering into the darkness for the first sign of land. Two o'clock, three o'clock, half-past three, a quarter to four—it must be very near dawn now! The Lutzow was running dead slow, just making headway. Of a sudden there was a faint crackle of rifle-fire, the blanketed report of a great gun, and the Battle of the Landing had commenced. Dawn came quickly, and with the full light of day the sounds of conflict swelled into a great rattle and roar. In towards Anzac Cove the transports were rapidly disembarking their men, warships were firing broadside after broadside, tugs and launches towing the barges to the shore. Straight ahead was the rugged mass of Sari Bair, Hill 971, brown and green in the morning mist, brown, green and gleaming yellow as the rising sun shone on the bare cliffs, which stood out in vivid contrast to the blue sea lapping on the pebble beach below. Eager eyes strained shoreward, but little could be seen of the conflict raging so fiercely on the slopes and up the gullies, except the fleecy puffs of drifting smoke from the Turkish shrapnel.
Breakfast was a hurried meal. The last details were soon fixed up, and the Battalion waited eagerly for its turn to come. A passing destroyer megaphoned over that there was "no news in particular, but blowing the b—s to hell." An
At half-past eight the tows pulled alongside for the Aucklanders, who were to be the first New Zealanders to land. The companies, drawn up on their respective decks, at once commenced to file down the ladders and take their places in the barges. Rifles were loaded. It was the real thing this time; bloody equipment beneath the thwarts of one barge was ample evidence of the fact. Once away from the shelter of the ship, and the danger zone was entered. Bullets wheened overhead, plonked in the water on either side, or struck the boats. Skinner, singer of comic songs, was hit, and so had the honour of being the first battle casualty of the Regiment. There was no excitement. Everyone was cool and quiet, but terribly determined to do his best. There was a thrill of exalted feeling running through the hearts of all. It was an honour to be leading the New Zealanders into battle, and, come whatever chance, New Zealand should be proud of this day's doings. And now the tows were close in-shore! The Colonel leaped into the water, waist deep, and led the way. The men followed across the pebbly beach and the little strip of level ground to the shelter of the hill, and there formed up. Packs were thrown off, and then orders came to move round to the left and reinforce the Australians, who were being hard pushed on top of the great cliff they had won. The Battalion had crossed the spur running down to Ari-Burnu point, and the 3rd Company, crossing Mule Gully, was about to climb the steep hill-side, when fresh orders arrived. It was now the centre which showed signs of breaking, and where help was most urgently needed. There was nothing for it now but to turn about, 16th Waikatos leading, and make by the shortest cut for the threatened point. The Colonel stopped a flying fragment in the wrist; but there was not much harm done, and he carried on. The new route lay over the Plateau, and it was here things started to get busy. Once above the crest-line, across the level, and descending the slope towards Shrapnel
Shrapnel Valley was the main line of direction along which the advance had taken place. It is one of the most famous of all the Gallipoli names. In few of the highways of war have so many died as in this very terrible one. It was accurately marked on the Turkish artillery maps, and their guns ranged every yard of it. It was open to snipers and machine-gun fire. In places the Turks had contested it desperately, and all the way up the dry water-course there was a tangle of Australian and Turkish dead. From the firing-line the wounded were straggling down, making by the best way to the beach, weary, bloodstained, but very exultant. The stretcher-bearers passed backward and forward, doing all they could for the desperately wounded and dying, who were lying here, there and every-where amongst the tangled scrub and in all the little patches of dead ground.
The Aucklanders streamed upwards, losing men, but nothing daunted. The fire became hotter and hotter. In ones and twos they dodged and ducked forward, and rushed breathless into the firing-line. Generally speaking, the 6th were on the left, towards Walker's, the 16th round Pope's, the 3rd were fighting near Quinn's, and the 15th about Courtenay's and even further to the right. Men of the different companies were, however, scattered everywhere. The advance had reached its furthest limit. The Turks were counter-attacking in overpowering numbers. They were resolute to drive the invaders back into the sea, but the stubborn Australians and the Aucklanders, inextricably mixed together refused
Still the line held! Jack, Fordyce, Bridson, Revington-Jones, Gardner, all the picked machine-gunners showed their worth that day holding back the Turk. Lieut. Carpenter, "not quite up to the standard" for Duntroon, was a brave leader of brave men. Captain Bartlett was doing great things on the right, and with him fought Lieut. Steadman, Sergeant-Majors Moncrieff and Fletcher. And now at the hardest pinch, Queen Lizzie was lying off the shore, she and other grey Queen Lizzie! Queen Lizzie! you were loved that day, idolised that day—a terror to the Turks, but salvation to the reeling line.
Now was the test of manhood! Everywhere the born leaders and the fine fighting men were coming to the front. Tuck and Forrest went side by side up the hill, Fox, McCready, Jock McKenzie, Frank McKenzie, Tilsley, Hall-Jones, Seddon, Tom Gordon, Yorke, Brown, Roberts, Sergt.-Major Partridge, Melville, Tribe, and many other gallant men fought there as staunchly and bravely as they fought again and again on many a stricken field.
Away down in Artillery Lane, Dr. Craig and his devoted little band, Wishart, Shewring, Stacey, and Hill, were doing splendid work. It was a heart-breaking sight; wounded men lying about in hundreds, and no provision made for them. The great-hearted doctor, most unselfish and bravest of men, toiled on without rest or thought of danger, all day and all through the night, and far into the next day. On the beach, Wallingford was sending up new men, collecting stragglers, cursing, threatening, cajoling, encouraging by all means and any means, and bringing order out of chaos. Here was a man who knew his job, who knew his own mind, and could act with decision and determination.
A great horde of Turks hastily marched from Bulair, from Maidos, from Helles, massed on the higher ground and prepared for a counter-attack, that should sweep the attackers back into the sea before darkness gave them an opportunity to consolidate and bring up reinforcements. Nine battleships opened on them with great guns. The heather slopes, purple in the setting sun, were smothered with bursting shell. The vivid flames of the tremendous explosions lit up the dark hill-side. The twilight deepened. Night fell on the battlefield, and the line was safe. The men of Anzac were tired and over-wrought. They were new to scenes of blood, and all grieved
For a short while there was quietness and a certain respite. Under cover of the darkness, the work of consolidation went on. Shallow trenches were scraped out, better positions occupied, a certain amount of water and ammunition carried up. The poor wounded, who had lain all day in positions where rescue was impossible, were brought in. Padre Taylor, officially of the Canterbury Regiment, but actually the friend and helper of all who were in trouble, was burying Auckland dead in No-Man's Land, carrying the stricken back to the doctors, passing the ready jest amongst the watchers in the line and those toiling up the steep paths with their heavy loads—"in Christ's name, for Christ's sake."
It was a wild and terrible night. The Turks were moving in the scrub in great numbers, but they also were tired. The resolute defence of the Australasians and the gunfire of the fleet had cost them many thousands of their best men. Urged on from behind, they came on without dash or resolution. Heavy rifle firing commenced. All through the night it rattled along from Fisherman's Hut to Gabe Tepe Point, sometimes dying away and then swelling up again in fury. Often it was wild, aimless, misdirected; but yet it served the purpose. The Turk did not pass, and yet all night he could have smashed through at any point if his resolution had been screwed to a higher pitch. Once disaster was imminent. An Australian colonel was leading his men out of a key position, when Wallingford met him, and in the darkness, pretending that he himself was General Walker, ordered him back. The Australian obeyed. A shower of rain had made everything wet, damp,
On the afternoon of the 27th, Wallingford greatly distinguished himself. The position above Walker's was obscure, doubtful and dangerous. Arriving on the scene, he found that the casualties had been very heavy, that the Turks had obtained complete superiority of fire and were apparently massing, ready to storm over the disheartened few who were still holding on. No one was in charge. In perilous times the boldest measures are always the best. Wallingford saw that to attack, to get on the offensive, was the only thing that could save the situation. He told the men around that he was going forward. It seemed certain death, but he made the venture, not knowing whether any would follow. Twenty yards for-ward, thirty yards—and the Turkish fire was very hot for-ward still, and then down in a little patch of partially "dead"
On May 1st the Aucklanders left the Plateau and climbed the steep track to Walker's Ridge. The next day they were to have been in support to an attack, but at the last moment the operation was cancelled. Half the Battalion then moved to Pope's Hill under Colonel Plugge, while the remainder with Major Harrowell stayed on in the support position. Two days afterwards, orders were received by the Battalion to rendezvous at Brighton Pier, prior to embarking for Cape Helles. The New Zealand Infantry, with a brigade of Australians, were to take part in the general assault on the Achi Baba position, which it was hoped would place the southern key of the Dardanelles in our hands. In the movements of these last few days, four men had been killed, and Captain Price, Lieut. Bodley and twenty-eight men wounded.
"Horror it is, and carnage; yet are both
Part of the price of peace."
On the evening of May 5th, after dusk, the men crowded on board the lighters and were towed out to the destroyers and minesweepers, which were to carry them to the southern sector. During the embarkation Brian Willis was fatally hit, but there was no other mishap, except that, in the darkness, some of the lighters were lost and drifted round in the cold for a couple of hours. Finally everyone was packed on board. The sailors were full of admiration for the Anza C soldiers, and displayed their admiration in most practical fashion by giving up dinner and rum issue to their guests. It was a kind-ness that was very much appreciated by the tired, overwrought men, who had carried on for the last ten days with little sleep and nothing except bully-beef and biscuits to eat.
The Brigade landed, close to the stranded River Clyde, on the beach below Seddul Bahr, and marched inland for about a mile. It was a great change after Anzac. There was room to move. The 29th Division had swept in for several miles, and all the level ground, the green fields, the cultivated or-chards stretching right up to the slopes of Achi Baba were held by the British. The roads were good. Transport of all sorts was moving. Englishmen, Scotchmen, Frenchmen, Senegalese, Sikhs, Australians, New Zealanders, gave Helles a cosmopolitan character. Here, too, were the guns, seventy-fives, eighteen-pounders, howitzers—guns in numbers not thought of at Anzac. The land seemed a good land, in every way desirable after the experiences of the last ten days. Surely, with all the guns and the easy, level country, it must be a good war in these parts.
That night the Battalion dug shelter trenches, for there were many enemy shells flying round. The ground was wet, and it was not possible to go far without reaching water. The night was cold and miserable, and many spent it walking about in an attempt to keep warm. Next morning, loaded with extra ammunition, the New Zealanders marched across to the Gully Ravine. As far as Auckland was concerned, the route taken was not the most direct, and the Colonel was more than suspected of having lost his way, a crime which, in the eyes of an Infantry Battalion marching with full pack up, is the crime of crimes. The New Zealanders were now in close support to the 29th Division, which had been fighting desperately to move forward in the direction of Krithia Village.
On the morning of the 8th, orders were issued for the New Zealand Brigade to pass through the British Regulars, and advance towards the village. There was bungled staff work somewhere, with the result that, instead of the New Zealanders taking up their battle stations during the night, dawn found them a long way in the rear. This added several hundred yards to the open ground which had to be crossed under fire, and also took away any advantage which might have been gained by a swift attack unheralded by an obvious concentration under the very eyes of the enemy. Wellington were on the left connecting up with the 29th Division, Auckland in the centre, and Canterbury on the right linking up with the Australians. Otago were in reserve. The Aucklanders moved up along a winding creek bed, just deep enough to give shelter. This brought them within a couple of hundred yards of the main front line, which had to be reached across country. This distance was covered by platoon rushes. Here Lieut. Steadman was killed, and several casualties occurred. There was also a certain amount of confusion, and when everyone had crowded into the British fire-trench, the companies were found to be intermingled to a considerable extent. Very few had a clear idea as to what was to be done, or what really were the objectives—except that a general advance was to be made on Achi Baba.
Immediately in front the ground sloped away for a little distance; then came a field of beautiful wild flowers, and then a gentle scrub-covered slope rising to a crest-line in the middle distance. Beyond this again was the hump of Achi Baba. To the right front was a clump of pine trees. There was no visible sign of the enemy. The Colonel came along: "Well, boys, the orders are to go ahead, and we have got to carry them out." The Regulars were not encouraging. "What! You are going to cross the Daisy Patch—God help you!" They had tried the day before, with no success. "Yes, of course we are going!" and on the signal every man of the first line was over the parapet and down the slope. Then the hail of Turkish fire smote them. Riflemen and machine-gunners from the stunted pines on the right poured in a hell of fire. The enemy batteries back on Achi Baba picked up the range and swept the ground with shrapnel. Not a man of the first wave faltered, most of them went down, but a few crossed the little field, and in the scrub beyond formed up some sort of a firing-line. The second wave came on, and were shot down to the last man. A third wave tried to cross, but it seemed as though all the Turkish fire was converging on them, and the pleasant field of daisies was full of agony. Yet men got across somehow, somewhere —dashing a few yards from shallow cover to sliallow cover, crawling inches at a time, changing direction slightly. Turks in front took their toll, and then before the gleaming bayonets reached them, vanished back through the scrub. The Daisy Patch itself was a tangle of Auckland dead and wounded. Even when all who could had crossed, it was swept by a hellish fire, and many a poor wretch was hit again and again. The officers were leading very bravely, but they were nearly all shot down. Lieutenants Carpenter, Screaton, Morgan, and Graham Reid were killed. Major Dawson was badly hit. Lieutenants West, Macfarlane, who had led the "first rush, Fletcher, Weir, McDonald, Fraser, Westmacott and Baddiley were wounded. Without exception they had been a great example to their men.
Dr. Craig, back in the front line, was binding up the
The Battalion was in a terrible state; cut to pieces, disorganised, utterly spent, it was no longer an effective fighting unit, and so was withdrawn, its place being taken by the Otago companies. The remnant concentrated down on the beach under Capt. Sinel. There had been over four hundred casual-ties, and the residue of the third reinforcement only brought the Battalion up to half strength. Lieut.-Col. Young was appointed to the command.
Two days afterwards the remainder of the Brigade was withdrawn, and for another week the New Zealanders were in reserve, doing fatigues of one sort and another, mainly making roads. It was comparatively quiet, although the big guns from the Asiatic coast accounted for a certain number of casualties—Auckland losing another forty men.
On the 19th May, the Brigade embarked on minesweepers and were carried back to Anzac. Major Bayly was killed by a stray bullet from off the shore. Before daylight on the 20th the men had landed, and the Aucklanders went into reserve at Rest Gully.
" Ever the day, with its … death from the losp-holes around;
Ever the night, with its coffinless corpse to be laid in the ground."
Rest Gully was a typical "bivvy" camp, leading from Monash. It was one of the numerous pieces of dead ground scattered about amongst the hills, which afforded comparatively good shelter from the shrapnel fire. Originally the slopes had been thickly covered with the dwarfed prickly scrub so common at Anzac, but in the last month this had been very much trodden down. Paths had been worn everywhere through it and "bivvies" constructed, giving that peculiar chequered appearance so common to all the places where men lived at Anzac. "Bivvies" were dwellings of a very primitive nature. Their main functions were to give a protective bank between the occupants and the nearest Turkish sniper or field-gun, to keep out the sun by day and the dew by night. The usual method of construction was to cut a face in the bank, level off the floor and the sides, salvage a couple of oil-sheets, and with salvaged bayonets (of which there were any number) pin these over to form a roof. As far as furnishings were concerned, a happy young couple made it their business to secure as many sandbags as possible from the nearest Engineers' dump, a cut-down tin of some sort for a bath, and one or more petrol tins in which to store water. The home was now complete. The permanent residents—the lice and the flies—took up their abode without further ceremony, while the casual boarders, such as soldiers and centipedes, strayed in as occasion offered.
The Battalion's first night in Rest Gully was disturbed by a great racket from the hills above. The Turks attacked in masses all along the line, but were shot down in hundreds by the N.Z.M.R., who were manning the trenches. The repulse
Triumph was sunk in full view of the watchers from the shore.
June 2nd the Battalion went into Quinn's Post.
What the "Dead Man" was at Verdun and "Delville Wood" on the Sonime, Quinn's Post was at Anzac. The ridge on which it was placed covered Monash Gully and Shrapnel Valley. Quinn's had at all costs to be held, for if it fell the vital artery of the Anzac position would be cut. The day of the landing the first rush had gone well beyond the crest, but the attackers had been compelled to fall back until there was nothing behind them but the steep cliff falling down to Monash. With their backs to the wall, the Australians and the Aucklanders had fought back the Turks. In succeeding days. New Zealand Engineers had sapped through to the forward slope and built a firing-line with a better field of fire. So close were front and support lines that the earth from the parados of one was touching the parapet of the second. Tunnels were dug from trench to trench to make the passage secure. In places these tunnels were sapped through dead bodies. The Post was noisome and pestilent. Loathsome and terrible vermin crawled about. The winds blew perpetually from the Turkish trenches across No-Man's Land, where lay the unburied dead. The air was poisoned with the disgusting stench. The Turks had pressed close up. At the nearest point their trench was only fifteen yards away. Neither side would budge an inch. We held on for-dear life—the Turks to retain a vantage point from which they might strike a blow at the heart. In the first two months attack and counter-attack succeeded one another with bewildering rapidity. Once the Turks rushed the front line, but were bombed out after a bloody struggle. On other occasions their front line was lost, and only by desperate efforts could they restore the position. A mine explosion would blow the
The Turks who manned Quinn's Post were all picked volunteers, every man of whom was promoted corporal. They were men whom it was a great honour to meet.
From June 2nd to 9th the Aucklanders held Quinn's. The first evening five rounds rapid caused a great and harmless retaliation. On the night of the 5th-6th it was decided to carry out an offensive operation against the Turks in the trenches opposite. The Auckland and Canterbury Battalions were or-dered to supply fifty volunteers each for the task. The Auckland men were Lieut. Vear, Hall-Jones, Frank McKenzie, Jock McKenzie, Carlaw, Tilsley, Holland, Black, Coutts (other names unobtainable).
Lieut.-Colonel Brown, then of Canterbury, afterwards of 2/Auckland, was in command of the post and of the whole operation. It goes without saying, therefore, that the preliminary preparations were of the most thorough character. Every man knew precisely what he had to do. All needful material was on the spot. Very quietly the parties of assault filed into the line. Bayonets were fixed and magazines charged. Sup-ports were ready to take over the fire-trench immediately the attacking parties had gone over. Carrying parties were standing by with loads of sand-bags, picks, shovels, bombs, and everything necessary for consolidation.
It is eleven o'clock. The batteries from Plugge's Plateau and Walker's Ridge are firing on the Turk communication sap. The howitzers on Ari Burnu Point join in; so does the little Japanese mortar and a Mountain Battery. In so many seconds the Aucklanders on the left reach the enemy parapet. The loopholes blaze with fire and the bombs come over. The attackers, pressing in, poke their rifles over and fire somewhat at random, with no effect. Then Frank McKenzie hurls a bomb far into the trench. Three loopholes are silent. Another bomb, and another; the fire slackens now, and the left assault party go in with the bayonet. For the first time here is opportunity. At the Landing, at Helles, their mates were shot down helplessly, and never a Turk would come within reach of the cold steel. But now, "a—a—ah," the old primitive blood lust
There remained but to count the cost. It was heavy enough. Eight killed, forty-eight wounded, and ten missing, as far as Auckland were concerned, Lieut. Vear was wounded, and also Lieut.-Colonel Brown, who for this operation was awarded the D.S.O. The Turkish loss was very much heavier, and a heavy blow was struck at their morale.
On June 7th-8th another sortie was made, with the object of recovering certain material abandoned in the enemy line. It was a complete failure. The loss of Colonel Brown was very much felt. Orders were changed at the last moment. It was impossible to feel the same confidence in the command. So many of the best leaders had gone down, and men were feeling the strain. The Turkish trench was reached, but the attack was driven off with loss to the attackers of Lieut. Corbett and six men killed, Lieut. Topham and twenty-five wounded, and six missing.
Next day the Battalion was relieved and moved down into local reserve in Monash Gully. Here the Fourth Reinforcements, consisting of fifty officers and two hundred and ninety-three other ranks, joined up.
Whilst seated one day in my dugout,
Weary and ill at ease,
I saw a gunner carefully
Scanning his sunburnt knees.
I asked him why be was searching,
And what he was looking for?
But his only reply was a long-drawn sigh,
As he quietly killed one more."
"Suffering from toothache, owing to the slurring of a fat and sleek dentist who stays at home in comfort and sends the soldier to eat hard biscuits."
Biscuits! Army biscuits! What a part they took in the daily routine.—the carrying of them, the eating of them, the cursing of them. Crawling from their earthy dens at the dawning of the day, men devoured biscuit porridge. They ate their meat, not with thankfulness, but with biscuits. They lengthened out the taste of jam with biscuits. Biscuits were pounded to powder, boiled with bully, stewed in stews, fried as fritters.
Consider the hardness of them. Think of the struggle and strain the crushing and crunching as the two molars wrestled with some rocky fragment. Think of the momentary elation during the fleeting seconds, when it seemed that the molars would triumphantly scrunch through every stratum of the thrice-hardened rock. Try to imagine the agony of mind and body as the almost victorious grinder missed its footing, slipped and snapped hard upon its mate, while the elusive biscuit rasped and scraped upon bruised and tender gums. Plates cracked. Teeth broke and splintered. The finest gold crown weakened, wobbled, and finally shrivelled under the terrific strain of masticating Puntly and Chalmers' No. 5's.
They had the delicious succulency of ground granite, or the savoury toothsomeness of powdered marble, with a delicate flavouring of ferroconcrete and just a dash of scraped iron
Apricot jam was another infliction—that and a detestable mixture known as Deakin's marmalade. "Apricot again!" Why on earth there was not more variety no one knows. One explanation given was that in the clear liquid it was impossible for drowned flies to masquerade as black currants. This is quite the line of reasoning that would appeal to the type of mind responsible for the selection of the supplies sent to Gallipoli, and is therefore quite likely correct. The crowning atrocity, however, as far as food was concerned, was bully-beef of the Fray Bentos variety. If General Birdwood was the soul of Anzac, then bully-beef was its "flesh and body." Bully was always in evidence. It came ashore at the first landing, and remained even after the evacuation. On the beach the A.S.C. made palatial residences of it; in the front line whole boxes were used for parapet building. It was salt, stringy and unpalatable. The only recommendation it had was that some kinds were not as bad as others, and that sometimes the less bad kinds were served out.
There was never any lack of food on Gallipoli. The trouble was that the abundant supplies were of the wrong sort. Meagre supplies of fresh meat, bread, vegetables and milk did commence to come ashore, but never in sufficient quantities. Of cheese and fat bacon there was never any lack. The cheese was utterly useless, but the bacon was very useful as fuel, and, after being rendered down, to make "slushlights." Tinned fruit, fresh vegetables, and tinned milk should have been
Day by day the sun grew hotter and hotter. At midday it burned down blazingly, scorchingly hot. With the heat came the flies—a very venomous lot of brutes, the lineal descendants of those which plagued the unrighteous Pharoah. Flies formed a staple part of the Anzac's diet. They shared his meals, drowned themselves in his tea, and in massed formation rushed his apricot jam, refusing to be driven off with blows and curses. It was no use slaying them by thousands, for they returned in tens of thousands. They bit like young scorpions. Their only redeeming virtue was that they slept well at night. The lice, beasts of prey of a most voracious and ferocious nature, did not sleep, and the chillier breezes of the night seemed only to spur them on to greater efforts. They refused to die, except under great pressure. They throve exceedingly on Keating's Powder, sent by anxious mothers in Auckland. The flies were the light cavalry, the lice the heavy armed infantry. They moved slowly, but surely. They could not fly but they could crawl, and they always "got there." They were imbued with a certain cold, passionless persistence. The next generation was always in readiness to carry on fighting-the good fight in which the generation before had perished. The grandparents were done to death at dawn. The parents were suppressed at midday, the children were massacred in "the evening hate," but the next generation was attacking fiercely by midnight.
Water was at a premium. Dust, heat, flies, vermin, thirst, bad food, the terrible stench of the unburied dead, and then a new experience—the frightful monotony of war. It may seem almost inconceivable to the ordinary civilian that a dangerous life is not necessarily an exciting one. Danger becomes part of the atmosphere. It is not something that can be guarded against. It does not interfere with the hours of waking or sleeping, of rest or of labour. Men were sniped at breakfast, sniped on working parties, sniped while bathing, sniped during the watches of the night, or just as they stood down. Shrapnel
Hell was to be an infantryman at Anzac; Heaven was just two miles away, a great white ship with yellow funnel, green band and great Red Cross. Fortunate was he who "landed a buckshee" or ran up sufficient temperature to impress the doctor. For him were stored up all delights, clean white sheets. dainty foods, rest, ministering angels to care for him. Dreams of paradise were of the smells from mother's cooking stove and of fair girls in clean clothes far away in New Zealand.
Men quickly became most dilapidated and disreputable scarecrows. The fewer clothes, the fewer lice to sort out; and so, as there were no girls to "swank up" for, clothes lost their ornamental and acquired value. In the blazing heat little covering was required, and what little was worn was purely a matter for the individual concerned. The Battalion had landed in "Tommy Caps," but these were by this time replaced either by Australian felts, khaki sun helmets, or the New Zealand issue belonging to unfortunate members of the reinforcement drafts. The upper part of the body was clothed in an identity disc. A pair of trousers very raggedly shortened, and boots completed the outfit. For the rest, a very decent coat of sunburn sufficed to complete the picture. Men bathing showed fine impressionist studies in brown, black and white.
"Heat like the mouth of a hell, or a deluge of cataract skies,
Stench of old offal decaying, and infinite torment of flies."
—"Defence of Lucknow." Tennyson.
From June 9th to August 5th, the Battalion did two spells in the line at Courtenay's Post and one at Quinn's. Between whiles it was in local reserve in Monash Valley, working, waiting, and "hanging on."
Courtenay's Post was taken over on the night of June 25th/26th. After Quinn's, it was a haven of rest. Two nights later, the Turks made their final attack at Anzac. Enver Pasha had arrived with fresh battalions and much ammunition. He was dissatisfied with the results of the campaign. The mere holding of position did not satisfy him. The challenge that was menacing the safety of the Turkish Empire had not only to be countered, but smashed. Liman von Sanders had learned his lesson, but the fierce young Turk would not listen to stories of previous defeat. At midnight on the night of June 29th every Turkish gun that could be brought to bear deluged the Anzac lines with shrapnel and high explosive in a sustained burst of fire, that continued for over half an hour. The massed Turkish columns of assault came forward steadily and bravely, only to be caught in the search-lights of the destroyers. They came on in vain against the steady lines of cool and determined riflemen. This attack was not pressed home in the vicinity of Courtenay's, and the preliminary shell fire had practically no effect on the deep, well-constructed trenches.
The trench line here, continuing on from Quinn's, ran along the crest of the ridge which fell away somewhat steeply below. Terraces had been cut on the steep slope for the accommodation of the supporting companies. "War is a frenzied burrowing competition, varied by tossing unpleasant missiles at one
Trench warfare here was quiet, mainly owing to the excellence of the trenches and the shortage on both sides of trench mortars—always excepting the catapult—and howitzers. The most offensive people were the snipers, of whom McCready and Fox were two of the most prominent. It was McCready who fought the duel with the mountain gun which the Turks had installed in their front line. This fired from a square black embrasure in the parapet. It fired and then swung out of sight to be reloaded. A quick shot could fire one round before and one after the discharge of this gun before it dropped out of sight, getting back into cover himself while the shell burst. The gun and McCready both did some very pretty shooting, and both lived to fight another day.
No-Man's Land being four hundred yards wide gave quite a restful sense of security. There was no longer the ever-present expectation of going to Heaven on top of a mine explosion; and even the most expert Turk could hardly throw hand grenades such a distance. Shrapnel and snipers were only a source of danger to people who exposed them-serves above the parapet. In these happy circumstances Capt. Sinel and his 6th Company held a concert in their front-line trench, which proved a fine success. Here, perhaps, one may be pardoned a slight digression to mention Capt. Sinel for the continuous good work he had performed from the landing right on. He did well the first day, and supremely well during the
On July 8th the Battalion was relieved and went into reserve in Monash, during which time Lieut. Simpson was killed by a sniper. Eight days later Otago were once more relieved in Courtenay's, which was held for a further period of eight days—a very quiet time.
The 21st July is a specially notable date. On this day gas helmets were issued to all ranks, with instructions as to their use. War was at any rate commencing to be more scientific. Fortunately, the Turks made no use of the deadly stuff. If they had done so, Anzac would have been quite untenable. The valleys and rest camps would have acted as natural sinks, where gas once accumulating would have hung about indefinitely. Moreover, with the enemy so short a distance away, holding higher ground, and having all the advantage of the wind, any effective retaliation would have been quite impossible.
The 31st July marks a very convenient break in the Battalion's history. During this period two great battles had been fought, the line held for several weeks, and two raids carried out. The losses had been extremely heavy. Of the original twenty-six officers who had landed the first day only three were still unhit—Captains Wallingford, Sinel and Algie, It is very difficult to determine exactly what number of casual-ties had occurred, The Battalion diaries are on this particular point certainly inaccurate. This is easily accounted for when the heavy losses, the constant changes in the personnel of the administrative staff, and the great difficulty in carrying out clerical work are considered.
Eleven hundred men actually embarked on the Lutzow. 1050 landed the first day. After the assault on Krithia 265 were left. 200 reinforcements brought this number to 468. Quinn's Post and incidental casualties reduced the strength to 326. The Fourth Reinforcement brought that total to 624. During June and July a very great number of men were
A certain number of decorations and mentions in despatches had been awarded to various officers and men.
The following N.C.O.'s had been promoted on the field to commissioned rank:—R.S.M. Mooney, Sergt.-Major Fletcher, and Sergeants Ward and Graham Reid.
Toward the end of July Dr. Craig returned, and as he went up to Battalion Headquarters the men turned out and cheered him. This is an honour that was accorded to very few New Zealanders during the war.
So all day long the noise of battle rolled
Among the mountains, by the … sea.
Until King Arthur's table, man by man,
Had fallen in Lyonnesse about their Lord."
We have seen him flung in rank,
Across the morning sky;
And we've had some pretty shooting,
And he knows the way to die.
Yes, we've seen him dying there in front—
Our own boys died there, too—
With his poor dark eyes arolling,
Staring at the hopeless blue.
With his poor maimed arms astretching
To the God we
both can name.
And it fairly tore our hearts out,
But it's in the beastly game."
All attempts to break through in the Cape Helles sector had failed—Achi Baba was by this time a hill impregnable. So
The most careful preparations were made. Water was brought from great distances, put into petrol tins and stored away. Shells, and rifle ammunition, were quietly piled up. Fresh men were brought ashore and hidden in carefully pre-pared hiding places. The greatest precautions were taken to
The country over which the advance was to take place was extremely rough. There were no good maps of it to be had anywhere. Aeroplane reconnaissance was only in its infancy. It was not easy or even possible for the greatest scouts to pass through the enemy's line at will. Nevertheless, there were some who did wonderful work in this direction. Warden was the finest scout the Auckland Regiment ever produced. A quiet, somewhat reserved man, he had not been at all conspicuous as a parade-ground soldier; but as soon as the fighting started, his exploits on the day of the Landing had brought him the immediate recognition of his superiors. At first with Colonel Plugge, and afterwards with Captain Wallingford, he was given great freedom of action. He always went about armed to the teeth. On one occasion, donning Turkish uniform, he penetrated great distances into the enemy territory. It is said that he once went over the hill and into Maidos itself. However that may be, he knew the whole of the Suvla Bay flat, and all the foothills of Sari Bair, on the left of the Anzac position. The information he brought in was quite invaluable.
The Turks, also, were preparing for a great battle. They had mustered all their available forces. There was a feeling of expectancy in the air. Both sides realised that the supreme hour was at hand.
In the last days of July the Aucklanders were busily employed carrying and digging. They relieved Otago in Quinn's Post August 2nd, remaining there until the night of the 5-6th, when they were relieved by Australian troops. The same night they marched across from Monash, beneath Walker's Ridge, along the great sap leading to No. 2 Outpost, and so to "Happy Valley." It was a long, hard tramp, and at that time very few were feeling in the mood for long marches. Practically every man was suffering from diarrhoea or dysentery. Many were on the verge of collapse. All were terribly weak. The physical condition of the New Zealand soldiers
Once in "Happy Valley," the Battalion stowed itself away in the scrub, with strict orders to show no sign of movement during the day. The sun blazed down with intense heat. The scrub was not high enough to give proper shade. It was abominably prickly, particularly as nearly everyone had bare knees. A plague of flies made sleep during the day almost impossible. The one redeeming feature of "Happy Valley" was the fact that a mail was served out. Mails always brought everyone to life again. Parcels, papers, and, above all, letters, were greatly prized. He was a happy man who had left behind him in New Zealand some good woman who remained steadfast and true, despite time and distance. Many a man went into battle with courage that was steeled by the letters of the day before.
During the day officers and N.C.O.'s went out along the great sap to Sazli Beit Dere and the Outpost, to view the heights of Chunuk, across which the advance was to sweep, while the men fastened on back and arm the white bands and patches which were to serve as distinguishing marks for our own artillery.
Lieut.-Colonel Young was in command of the Battalion, with Major S. Grant, of the Fourth Reinforcement, as his second in command. Lieut. Mooney was adjutant. Major Hume commanded the 3rd Company, Capt. Sinel the 6th, Capt. Algie the 15th, and Lieut. Gillet the 16th Company. Most of the 3rd Company were detached as escort to various Indian Mountain Battery Guns.
At four o'clock in the afternoon of the 6th, the 29th Division attacked at Cape Helles, and had soon joined battle in a desperately fought contest, which not only tied down thou-sands of Turks, but also, so vehement was the onslaught,
So in two places the assault had swelled up in fury, and it may have appeared to the hard-pressed Turk that the battle was fully joined, and that, if he could but hold, all would be well. But it was his right flank at Chunuk Bair and Suvla against which the real menace was to develop, and so far everything was quiet in that quarter.
Amongst the rough tangle of hills, ridges and ravines in that locality were three long valleys, the Sazli Beit, the Chailak and Aghyll Deres, all winding up toward the heart of the mountain. These natural approaches were covered by the foothills of Sari Bair, No. 3 Outpost, Big Table Top, Sniper's Ridge and Bauchop's Hill, all of which were strongly held by the enemy. It was the task of the N.Z.M.R. to clear these hills, and by so doing open up the way to the infantry battalions, which were to pass on through them toward Rhododendron and the heights of 971.
The mounted troops attacked at nine o'clock in the evening, and immediately afterwards the leading battalions of the Infantry Brigade were on the move. Canterbury went by way of the Sazli Beit, while Otago, Wellington and Auckland proceeded up Chailak. At 10 p.m. Auckland wound out of Happy Valley, and with the 6th Company leading, followed by the 15th and 16th. connected up with the remainder of the column. The distance to be traversed was not so very great—a little over three miles—but a distance which, under the conditions of the night of August 6-7th, was very terrible. The ground was all new and strange. Once the long file had left the sap, passed over the little strip of level ground beneath No. 2 Outpost, and crossed the straight trench which led down to the Outpost Well, there came one long succession of blocks and halts. First of all the covering troops were held up by the
Auckland concentrated in a hollow, which was apparently dead ground, and commenced to make the best of a cold break-fast. After a few minutes, however, there came a burst of fire from snipers and machine-guns. Bunched together as the men were, casualties were numerous. Breakfast came to an abrupt conclusion, and there was a very hurried scatter.
All opportunity of surprise had now passed. Away to the left the Bay of Suvla was seen to be full of ships. Files of
The Battalion was drawn up, 6th Company in front, and informed roughly of the objective. Many of them were survivors of the Daisy Patch, most of them had seen something of the work of machine-guns in the open against advancing troops. They had a complete and clear realisation of what was being asked of them. The moment came. The word was given. For an instant there was anintaking of the breath, a tension, the hesitation as of one who nerves himself to leap into ice-cold water. What? were the leaders baulking? From behind came an indescribable growl and murmur. Then Major Grant rushed out in front with waved arm and a call to follow on. The mass moved, Lieut. Dittmer's platoon of the Hauraki's leading. Twenty yards of dead ground, and then a hail of fire—fire from a thousand yards of Chunuk; fire from Battleship Hill; rifle fire and machine-gun fire from front and flank. Two hundred and fifty yards to go, and every yard of it raked with fire. There was no faltering; every man went straight forward, running up the hill as fast as he could go. Killed and wounded, they went down in heaps, but the
The heroic Major Grant fell half-way. He lay out all that day and the next, and when at last picked up he made light of terrible wounds, saying it was only his leg, and that he would be back in six weeks. He died the same night.
If the Turks had counter-attacked immediately, they might have regained the lost ground; but in a short while their opportunity passed. As soon as the attack was ordered, Captain Wallingford had worked with all his energy to get the machine-guns placed. Now they were in position—too late to assist the advance, but in time to safeguard what had been won. After an hour's heavy fighting, the Turkish fire from the heights was beaten down, and superiority passed to the New Zealanders. If only the attack had been delayed until this time, how much slaughter would have been saved!
As yet the Suvla landing had not taken off the weight. All day our men lay flat in the tropical heat, waiting for the crash of firing from the left. It did not come. After dark the 6th Company held the trench while the 15th and 16th went back on working parties.
Very early in the morning Warden had guided a column
Succour from the left was slow in coming, but still the battle could not stay, the pace could not slacken. At dawn on the 8th, the Wellington Battalion, with some help from the Gloucesters, passed through and stormed Chunuk Bair. The key position was ours. If the force from Suvla would only press forward, the result was inevitable. But would help come? Wellington fought a most valiant fight. Their line was frightfully torn. Men scraped for themselves shallow pits and flung a little earth in front. The Turks crept up to bombing range, and along the whole line the fighting was hand to hand. Every moment our men grew fewer and fewer. Still they held on. Heat, thirst, wounds and death could not daunt them. "Hold on! Hold on!" If they could
The English did not come.
So the manhood of New Zealand dwindled hour by hour through all the long day of August 8th, Wellington in front on the crest, Auckland in support in and about their captured trench. This day Captain Sinel was wounded.
The great flanking movement from Suvla had now been definitely held. Twenty-seven thousand fresh troops had been baffled by three thousand Turkish gendarmes. In the centre, although the casualties had been frightfully heavy, the attack had been successful. The door of opportunity was still open. One last effort might still clear the whole crest, and all would be well. The attempt was made at dawn on the 9th. All reserves were hurled into the fight. The crest was reached and passed along its whole length. Below lay the Straits of the Dardanelles and the town of Maidos. Victory seemed secure, when of a sud-den a terrible thing happened. By some mistake the guns played for too long on the ridge, and the attacking columns were torn to pieces by their own artillery. The Turks saw their opportunity, came back and fell upon the shaken survivors. The supports were a few minutes late. The reeling line was pushed back, and the whole of Chunuk, with the exception of the south-western part held by the New Zealanders, was lost.
The fight had raged for three days, and the New Zealanders were utterly spent. They were withdrawn to the Apex and Rhododendron, with the exception of some of the 16th Company, who were holding a trench constructed a few yards behind the one captured in the Auckland charge.
As darkness fell on the 9th, the hope of victory had almost vanished. If the remnant of the crest of Chunuk could still be held, another attempt might be made after a rest and general reorganisation; but first it was necessary to obtain more men and more ammunition. It was now four days since the beginning of the struggle. The Turks had called up all their reserves. Thousands had crossed from Asia, and other thou-sands had come down from Bulair. All night they were massing behind Sari Bair, and on the morning of the 10th the whole mass was in motion, moving with the power of an avalanche
Wallingford had ten machine-guns in action, six of them well forward, two of the six, Auckland guns. They were trained across the line of the Turkish advance. The men behind, cool and resolute, set up a zone of death. The first line of Turks charged into it and went down to a man. The next line melted away on the same spot. But still they came on, line after line, and the leaden sweep reaped them in swathes. No hesitation; no faltering; the last line charged on with the same high courage. They also fall. Now the artillery have picked up the range, and the great heap of death and agony is torn and blasted by the bursting shells. The wounded Turks who were able to crawl back were unmolested, so full of admiration were the machine-gunners for the charge they had made. The Number Ones of the two Auckland guns who did so much to beat off this attack were Jack and (unknown).
Once more on the same day the danger became very pressing. On the Apex was Brigade Headquarters and also the Auckland Aid Post, which for seventy-two hours had followed the advance, working ceaselessly to succour the hundreds of wounded. Suddenly, twenty-five yards away, a party of the enemy showed up and commenced firing. They had crept up through the valley. More were climbing up every moment. It was a time of deadly peril. Most of the New Zealanders were on Cheshire Ridge, further back on Rhododendron, or in the
The sufferings of the wounded during these days had been very dreadful. A man hit on the slopes had as often as not to lie all day in the blazing sun, tormented by thirst and tortured, by the swarming flies. To attempt to move him would have meant certain death. At night he might well be missed, and so be doomed to another day of agony. Many were never found, and died amongst the thick scrub or in some tangle of rough and broken country, where no man passed once the first charge had gone forward. Even when the stretcher-bearers had found the sufferer and bound up his wounds, there was the three-mile carry to the sea-shore. The first stage was down a precipitous slope, where a man without a load was hard put to it to keep a footing. Imagine the difficulty of carrying a stretcher! The second stage was through the long and winding Dere. Here the foothold was better, but the path was jammed with traffic. Ammunition was going for-ward, also water, rations and all that was urgently necessary for consolidation. Line after line of mules plodded stolidly backward and forward towards the firing line. Shrapnel burst at all times and in all places. Bullets fell like rain. Imagine what a journey this was for a poor wretch with a fractured leg, to whom every jolt of the stretcher meant a spasm of intolerable agony! The New Zealand wounded were wonder-ful in their patience and self-restraint. Through all the terrible journey there would be no word of complaining, usually only expressions of regret "for causing the stretcher-bearers so much bother." One might have thought the wounded man was not in pain if it had not been for his drawn and twisted features. At last, after a journey of something like three
Brigadier-General R. Young, C.B., C.M.G., D.S.O.
The great Turkish counter-attack was the last act in the terrible struggle for Sari Bair. Much had been gained in the territory of great tactical importance. The Turks were shaltered and beaten to their knees. Another blow, even a weak one, would have broken them utterly; but the effort had been too great, and it was impossible to strike again. The high places remained with the Turk. Again he brought up fresh troops and fortified the blood-stained hill, until at last opportunity passed for ever.
The night of the 11th was a confused one. English trcops were now holding the Apex, behind them were the New Zealand machine-gunners, and behind again the remnants of the New Zealand battalions. It was a sad wild night, and next morning Hamilton sent the New Zealanders back to the Apex and Rhododendron with orders to entrench and "hold on for ever."
"God," he said, "how painful is my life!"
The fighting died away. After the high strain of the un-natural excitement came the inevitable reaction. The remnant of the Battalion was in a shocking condition. Diarrhæa and dysentery grew ever worse and worse. Scurvy made its appearance. Men broke out in septic sores that would not yield to treatment. The flies tormented the sufferers. Men of splendid physique were miserable, bent scarecrows, their faces haggard and drawn. As they walked they staggered with weakness. There was no energy, no vitality. Yet they hung on, and by slow degrees dug deeper trenches and communications, until all the hill was secure. All night they watched and worked, and then could not sleep during the day because of the heat and flies. Life was full of a most terrible monotony. Great-hearted men weakened, but refused to go away. "Very ill, but still sticking it," they write in their diaries. "We are in a most miserable state, yet we must hang on." In these terrible last weeks of August and the first two of September was established that steadfast character which is perhaps the best of all New Zealand's war traditions. Men grew so ill that some of them died in dug-outs or even in the open trenches. It was cruel work for the doctors, for they could do little, not even send the sick away in sufficient number. The Ridge had to be held, even if all the New Zealanders died in the holding of it. Hard as the doctors were compelled to be, the leakage was still very great. Men went down by dozens and by scores. Wallingford himself was evacuated a complete wreck. A price had been placed on his head by the Turks. His value to the Anzac Army was above all price. Day by day the little company grew fewer, and the limit of endurance for the remainder came nearer every day. There
During these days Padre Taylor was a great source of inspiration. He was as sick as anyone, but was quite tireless in his unselfish devotion. He did not belong to Canterbury, he belonged to all of us. Here was religion! No white collar, broadcloth and silk hat, no exclusive theology, no overpowering sense of aloof respectability, but a man of like passions to ours, of like fears and hopes, a man of a most human and brotherly type, fired with Christ's passion of love for all struggling and suffering humanity. He buried the dead, comforted the sick, passed the ready jest along the trenches. Tireless shepherd of the sheep, he knew every yard of trench-line, every gully and sap where men lived.
On September the 2nd, Auckland were relieved from Rhododendron, which they had entrenched, and went into reserve behind Brigade Headquarters in the Chailak Dere. September 8th saw them once more in the line, holding the Apex. Two days later this position was heavily bombarded.
At last, on the 14th, came orders to concentrate in the Chailak Dere. "Hallelujah!" The spell had come at last. The Battalion staggered down the Dere, past the Outpost, along the weary way to Anzac Cove, and then took lighter to the Osmanieh. A small boat, not very much if any larger than the Manaia, she was easily able to take off the remnants of the New Zealand Infantry Brigade. In Mudros Harbour an antiquated paddle-steamer, which must have been in its prime about the time of the Crimean War, wheezed alongside and took men and stores toward the "wharf." As the old craft did not capsize on the way, everyone landed safely after scrambling over the allegedly ingenious obstruction the R.E.'s had erected for the purpose. The march to camp was three miles—they seemed like thirty. The Battalion went by fits and starts. There were many halts and many stragglers. Some finished the journey in two hours, others in ten, and not a
"The winter winds of Lemnos,
They blow exceeding fast.
There's nothing quite so stiff on earth
As that persistent blast."
That afternoon was a most joyful time. New bread, fresh eggs and fresh meat were served out, also a bottle of stout between every two men. Cooking fires were lighted between stones, so arranged as to keep off the wind. Steak and eggs were frizzling merrily, and the smell was good. For a whole fortnight the men did nothing except eat and rest. The food continued good, and there was a very large issue of milk. Apparently all the milk sent from New Zealand had been concentrated on Lemnos. The issue worked out to about a dozen tins per man, which was very acceptable, but much more than could be used at one time. If it had been sent across to Anzac during June, July, August and September, a large wastage of men would have been avoided. During all that time a tin of milk was worth a dozen tins of bully-beef. Yet bullybeef was landed by the ton and wasted by the ton, while the milk that would have saved thousands of evacuations for intestinal diseases was withheld.
The first Sunday was noteworthy, on account of the church parade, held on the open level flat before the camp. Everyone was of opinion that the New Zealanders had done enough fighting to last them for the whole war. Egypt was talked of. Garrison duty was thought of. Some cheerful optimists even discussed the possibility of a trip back to New Zealand. Then Padre Taylor preached a sermon, saying that no man had done his bit while he had a leg left to stand on and life in him. General Godley made the startling pronouncement that the war had only just commenced, and that there was much fighting still to be done.
"Oh, Hell!"
It was a hard note, but a necessary one.
On September 30th, the Sixth Reinforcement, under the command of
"I'd count it the greatest rewardThat ever a man could attain.I'd sooner be Anzac than—LordI'd rather be Anzac than—Thane."
On the other hand, it was very difficult to connect honour and fame with the handful of decrepit, homesick, thoroughly verminous and blasphemously "fed-up" scarecrows who represented the Auckland Battalion.
By this time a daily routine had been established. "Right turn! Left turn! Slope arms! Form Fours!" and so on, with the whole paraphernalia of barrack-square drill. There is no doubt that the Anzacs badly needed a straightening up; but, nevertheless, it went against the grain to do recruit drill with reinforcements.
On the whole, life was good and interesting. Leisure time was plentiful. A few miles away, over some rough and barren hills, was the tiny hamlet of Therma, where hot springs provided the luxury of a hot bath. Further on again was the considerable town of Castro, with a wonderfully strong old castle crowning the hill above the town. In all directions were small
Water was scarce, and as the transport had all been sent back to Egypt, it had to be carried from the pumping station, in the heavy cooking dixies, over a distance of nearly half a mile. Water fatigue was hard work. The queue at the pumps was often a very long one, and it was here that the ancient and honourable game of "Crown and Anchor" flourished exceedingly. All sorts of hard-looking individuals, with raucous voices and a splendid control of the Australian language, here plied their calling assiduously, despite the Manual of Military Law and Brass Hats of all sorts.
Some camp-fire concerts were a great success. None who were there will forget one man with a magnificent voice singing "The Last Rally."
So the time passed pleasantly enough. The news of Loos made the Sixth Reinforcement fear the war would be over in a few weeks. They were very eager to prove themselves. All sorts of rumours were going round as to the next front the New Zealanders would be fighting on. Salonica, Mesopotamia, Alexandretta, Egypt, France, all had their supporters.
Time was up. The Battalion was something over half strength by reason of the reinforcements and a number of convalescent sick and wounded who had rejoined. Camp was struck early in the morning of November 8th. The men fell in, carrying enormous packs. Word had gone round that the destination would after all be Anzac; so everyone laid in what store of provisions he was able to procure. The Brigade moved out from Sarpi, embarked once more from the rough pier, and sailed out once more on the Anzac track.
"Now snowflakes thickly failing in the winter breeze
Have cloaked alike the hard unbending ilex
And the grey drooping branches of the olive trees,
Transmuting into silver all the lead;
And in between the winding lines in No-man's Land,
Have softly covered with a glittering shroud
The unburied dead."
It was a misty, showery day. By nightfall the transport was nearing the shore. Soon the dark mass of Sari Bair was dimly outlined in the gloom. An occasional rifle shot rang out clear and distinct, "pit-pot, pit-pot." Bursts of machinegun fire proclaimed that the Battalion was once more back again at the war, and that the old game was still being played. The men went ashore during the night, landing at the little pier below Walker's Ridge, and from there marched round to a bivouac between the Chailak and Aghyll Deres, from whence Auckland went up to the Rhododendron Spur, where they remained until the evacuation.
The weather had changed completely. The fearful enervating heat of the summer months was gone. There was a touch of keenness in the air. Most of the flies were dead, and those who by reason of strength still survived were looking very ill, and were suffering from general debility and cold feet. The lice, however, were stouter hearted and thicker skinned. They hung on with indomitable tenacity. Nothing could shake them off. They flourished in the summer heat, and multiplied in the cold of winter. If one died, however prematurely, ten more seemed to spring into being. They were as the sand on the sea-shore, or the stars in heaven for multitude.
In the Balkans, Mackensen with a mass of men and guns smashed down the Serbian defence, and by so doing opened a clear road from Berlin to Bagdad. The Turkish munition troubles were at an end. Down the Danube came the great
Rhododendron Spur was turned into a splendid home. Seven hundred feet up above sea-level on the rough slopes of Sari Bair was formed a miniature Auckland Town. Every turning, sap and communication trench bore one of the old familiar names:—Queen Street, Quay Street, Customs Street, Fort, Swanson Street, Wyndham Street, Wellesley Street, Manukau Road, and Seafield View.
The view was a glorious one. Every morning Imbros and Samothrace emerged from the morning mists, and every evening the sun set in splendour behind them. On the left, and far below, the plain of Suvla stretched from the Outpost to the Chocolate Hills and Kuchuk Anafarta. To the front and the right ran the ragged spurs of Hill 971. On the shining level of the sea, cruiser and destroyer were ceaselessly on the move. There is a great fascination in watching a destroyer on patrol duty. There is no beauty about her, no colour: she is drab, long and lean from one point of view—broad, low and squat from another. On a moonlight night she is a dark line, barely visible. Night and day she never ceases to move. Always there is the ceaseless, tireless moving, the keen
There are other craft to be seen. Sometimes a monitor creeps out from Imbros Harbour. She has a great 14-inch gun in her bow, and when she comes out there is something to justify the thunder-tones in which she speaks. Perhaps the enemy are dragging a gun into position. As the ox-team toils patiently along the rough road from Bulair there is a rumbling in the air, gradually growing nearer, a thud as the projectile buries itself in the earth, a rending explosion, and then men, machinery, bushes, rocks and débris rise slowly in the air, hang for a moment, while a pall of smoke rises, covering all from sight. The smoke clears. The watcher from Rhododendron can perceive no change; but the Skoda gun, brought with such toil down the Danube will never fire a shot.
A few days after the return to Anzac a working party from the Battalion were down by the little pier below Walkers Ridge. A group of Staff Officers came ashore. The central figure was Earl Kitchener. He was speedily recognised. The
The air had had a nip in it for some time, and then one morning men woke to find the ground covered with snow. It was for many their first experience. The hillsides were very beautiful. Every little bush was outlined in gleaming white. The ground was frozen hard. It was cold, until the blood was running, and after that quite splendid. The air was cold, the water was cold, the dishes were cold, and, strange to say, many men never felt dirty for three whole days, and then only when the sun shone at mid-day. An Aucklander required more resolution to face cold water than to walk up to a machine-gun. During the days when the snow lay on the ground, delicacies such as fat bacon and bully-beef were devoured ravenously. The days of diminutive trousers were gone. Men no longer wandered round in identity discs, indecent apparel and wide smiles. Fortunate was he who had much clothing. Fortunate was he whose mother, sisters and sweethearts sent many balaclavas, scarves and socks, and still more fortunate was he who could salvage all these things from the careless. "Blessed is he that hath, for if he hath enterprise he shall have much more."
On the high slopes the snow disappeared slowly. Amongst the New Zealanders there were practically no cases of frostbite. Lower down, however, on the Suvla flat, the trenches were flooded out by the melting snow. Trench-foot and
On November 20th Colonel Plugge returned, and took over the Battalion from Colonel Young. Life was very tranquil. A few casualties occurred from stray bullets and shells, but the trenches were so good, and afforded such splendid cover that the infantry in the line really ran very little danger. Rhododendron, in particular, was very safe.
The bombers were in possession of a Japanese mortar, which was regarded with a certain amount of suspicion and fear by those who were in the neighbourhood. Whether it was so regarded by the Turks it is difficult to say.
Very great attention was paid to the cleanliness of trenches, which were swept out every day. The prevalent disease was no longer dysentery, but jaundice. It was during this epidemic that men first commenced to get some idea of Major Allen's quality. He was a tall man, rather finely built, very deliberate in his movements and speech. Somewhat reserved, puritanical perhaps, he was never observed to be under the influence of liquor, and his language was most carefully moderated. His lisp when he commanded the "Houwakis to clean their wusty wifles," had become a standing joke. Who was this man? How would he turn out? There were not a few who were of the opinion that he would find war a very dirty, disagreeable, bloody business, and then retire gracefully from the scene to a more congenial sphere. Others suspended judgment, while odd men thought they detected some resemblance to Stonewall Jackson. In the meanwhile, as the Major commanding a company, the eyes of all were upon him. Apparently he had not yet realised that there was any danger in the air; if so, he gave no sign. Though suffering very badly with jaundice, he stayed on, performing all his duties. As a senior officer, he would have had not the slightest difficulty in being sent off. Also he was particular about the comfort of his men.
"Not unto us, O Lord, to tell Thy purpose in the blast.
When those who towered beyond us fill,
And we were overpast
We cannot guess how goodness springs
From the black tempest's breath;
Nor scan the birth of gentler things,
In these Red Bursts of Death."
The decision to evacuate the Gallipoli Peninsula was reached soon after Earl Kitchener's visit. It was necessary to mystify and mislead not only the Turks, but also our own troops.
For two days, November 25th and 26th, the men were ordered to refrain from firing. During the night of November 30th much wire was placed in front of the fire-trench. A great deal of work was done "to prepare for the winter campaign." Deep dug-outs were constructed.
Rhododendron Spur itself was made very comfortable. On the lower part of the slope was Captain Graham's store tent. A little further up lived the Battalion's two donkeys. These donkeys are noteworthy, because their driver was reputed to have the most forcible and fluent command of the Australian language in the Brigade. To hear the two little "donks" being "praised up" and called by their "Christian" names was to receive a lesson in the artistic use of language not readily to be forgotten. Dr. Addison had a most palatial residence, presided over by Davies and McDonald, the chief of the stretcher-bearers. The one drawback in connection with it being the fact that the roof consisted of one thickness of corrugated iron, and was therefore not to be relied on when the big shells were dropping round. In terraces on the slope lived the stretcher-bearers, signallers, ration-men, water-fatigue and the reserve company. Battalion Headquarters rejoiced in two very deep dug-outs, quite capable of keeping out even the heaviest shells.
Rumours of all sorts were about. Dunlop was an adept in the gentle art of rumour-mongering. He served out rumours and rations indiscriminately; his masterpiece probably being the yarn of the fifty ships of Japanese troops, with twenty-five shiploads of rice, all lying off, ready to be landed as soon as the cargoes of curry should arrive.
Rhododendron was shelled on the 4th, 5th, 7th, and 8th of December, but comparatively little damage was done. Heavy, high-explosive bombardments were a new type of frightfulness, not at all appreciated. Many a man who had stood everything else was not ashamed to admit that big shells were not to his liking.
At this time the men had not the remotest idea that the attempt to force the Dardanelles had been abandoned. Some thought we would hold on through the winter, and attack again in the spring. Others expected heavy reinforcements and another great effort before the bad weather set in. It became obvious that a move of some kind was on foot. Working parties were continually being sent down to move guns. Batmen and others on foraging expeditions to the beach found stores of all sorts thrown open. Several battalions of the New Army went away for a rest. Sections of the Field Ambulance moved away, none knew whither. More guns were moved. Fresh stores were thrown open. Rifles and ammunition were destroyed. The secret was becoming more open, but still men refused to believe the inevitable. The ground had been so hardly won, surely it would not be abandoned?
December 16th a small advance party left for Mudros. So it had come. The feeling amongst both officers and men was bitter in the extreme. "I am no lion-heart, but I would sooner go over the ridge in frontal assault, with all its chances of death with honour, than do this thing."
In these last few days R.S.M. Moncrieff was carried out, suffering from an attack of appendicitis. To the surprise of everyone he walked back next day from the Field Ambulance, very ill, but resolved not to spoil his record.
The most elaborate arrangements were made for the
Main Body men who were refused for one reason or another were bitterly disappointed.
The first half of the Battalion moved away in two sections. From the heights the remainder looking down could see
The day passed. At six o'clock another big party moved off, and now the trenches were very thinly held. It was the most dangerous time of all. The next three hours were perfectly quiet. Nine o'clock came. The files assembled in Manukau Road. Rolls were carefully checked. There were quiet farewells. The rearguard stood to arms in silent, deserted trenches and waited for the sudden shout, the rush of Turks, the last bitter struggle and then Quiet Death, to whom they had given themselves that their friends might go free. The larger party Tiled down the steep slope to Chailak Dere, and there at the precise moment met the files of Wellington and Canterbury passing downward from the Apex and Cheshire Ridge. Chailak Dere had never seemed so quiet before. Scarcely a bullet fell anywhere. In the brilliant moonlight every familiar feature showed clearly out, the angles, the bends, the bracken, the scrub, and the graves of men. There were so many of them, the poor little graves, marked with the rough crosses of boxwood. So many sleep on the bloody, bitter slopes of Sari Bair, so many beneath the frowning Outpost Hill, so many by the margin of the Blue Ægean. These men elevated the Cross. They blazed a great trail. What valour was theirs, what steadfastness of purpose, what uttermost sacrifice of self!
The long file of men passed by the graves of their dead with no spoken word, but with a reverence that needed no words. In the hour of defeat men reconsecrated themselves to victory.
The lighters were ready. In half an hour all were on board. At two o'clock the rearguard withdrew. Just before their time was up a shout ran along the Turkish line. Surely the
The dark mass of Sari Bair stood out clear against the sky. The outline slowly vanished.
It was the last of Anzac.
"We only know from good and greatNothing but good can flow;That where the cedar crashed so straightNo crooked tree shall grow.That from their ruin a taller pride.Not for these eyes to see,May clothe one day the valley sideNon nobis, Domine."
After the Evacuation the various parties of the Battalion assembled outside Mudros Village in a camp of tents. The "Die-hards" of the Battalion were welcomed with much joy, but the greatest demonstration was reserved for the two Australian battalions which had been the last to leave Anzac. The road by which they marched was lined with cheering men; for the brotherhood of Anzac had been a very real thing. It was there that Australian and New Zealander got to know and appreciate each other as never before or after. Lemnos was not a wildly exciting place to be back in again. The camp was very ordinary, and the admixture of pebbles with turf did not improve matters when it came to turning in for the night. Mudros itself was a filthy little place. The only building of any beauty was the Church, which was really quite fine. Colonel Plugge took over the Brigade for a few days, and Major Alderman assumed command of the Battalion. Drill and discipline became the order of the day. This served to fill in time, at any rate. A shower of rain swamped out the officers' marquee, and made things unpleasant for all. The only real excitement, however, was a raid carried out by certain bold spirits of all units upon a certain guard of "Jocks," who had in their keeping sundry barrels of beer. The "Jocks" were surprised by overwhelming numbers and led away in one direction, while the barrels rolled off in another. When the barrels were "dry"—and what were they amongst so great a multitude?—both they and the guard were shamefully abandoned. Four days of comparative quietness passed, during which everyone yearned for the flesh-pots of Egypt, and were not a little disappointed when it became evident that Christmas in Cairo would be an impossibility.
Orders for the move came Christmas morning. Very early indeed the Battalion fell in. The Colonel said he was sorry there was not very much for breakfast, but that if all hands would get to work and strike camp quickly they would be aboard the transport by mid-day and would find a first-rate Christmas dinner already waiting. Everyone set to work in high spirits and the best possible frame of mind. The work was done. The Battalion, headed by the band, moved down to the pier. Embarkation was a quick-business. Shaking down on board was a somewhat more confused matter, but was finally accomplished successfully.
What about this Christmas dinner? Apparently it was to be on during the evening, instead of mid-day. That dinner never came, and to this day its loss is a bitter matter with every survivor. The officers fared sumptuously—no fault of theirs, for they would have shared if it had been possible—and the men had hard white biscuits, without even the familiar bully-beef. To wash down this repast a small quantity of cold water was available. This was the climax, and the Auckland Regiment was never, in all its history, in quite such a bad temper.
Next day things looked more cheerful. The Marsova was ploughing her way steadily toward Alexandria, and if Christmas had been rather a failure the New Year was still to come, and there were worse places than Cairo to spend it in. Memories of the first stay there were revived, and men made arrangements with one another as to what they would do and where they would go when all were safe back in Zeitoun Camp.
At last the quay at Alexandria! and there, right on the quay, a slip of an English girl in her Red Cross uniform at a little buffet. So fair and sweet and clean she looked a vision of beauty and grace to men who for nine long months had not seen a woman, except some of the withered old Greeks at Lemnos. The very sight of her was a benediction.
There was to be no leave in Alexandria. Trains were already waiting, and in two hours the Aucklanders were once not near to Cairo or any other large centre.
Arriving a little before dusk, it was found that the advance party had prepared tea, but had no camp ready, as tents had not arrived from Cairo. A bivouac was formed and, despite a shower of rain, the night passed comfortably enough. Next day a camp was made. The process was quite simple. A large square was formed, and then subdivided into four smaller ones, with roads running between. The four companies each occupied one square. In front of the main square were the officers' lines, and in rear of the camp the cookhouses, the Quartermaster's Stores, and the machine-gunners. Boundaries were marked off by heaping up little banks of sand. At first only a few tents were available, and the majority of men constructed rough bivvies, usually of oil-sheets. As the days passed, however, more tents arrived, and within a few days everyone was under canvas.
After nine months fighting the Aucklanders were once more back on the desert sands. They had left Egypt 1100 strong. During the campaign they had received another 1100 men as reinforcements, and now on landing back the strength was about 600. The total battle casualties were 19 officers and 344 other ranks killed, 35 officers and 901 other ranks
The following decorations were awarded during the course of the campaign:—
- C.M.G.—
Lieutenant-Colonel A. Plugge ,Lieutenant-Colonel R. Young , andMajor W. Alderman . - M.C.—
Captain J. A. Wallingford ,Lieutenant G. H. Holland . - D.C.M.—Sergeants
R. Tilsley ,J. H. Francis , CorporalsH. Spencer ,W. J. Reid ,F. W. Watson , andPrivate G. A. Tempany .
The above were all mentioned in despatches, Lieutenant Colonel Plugge twice.
Other mentions were.—
Major T. H. Dawson (twice).Major S. A. Grant .-
Private D. Davidson Private C. J. Maroni .Private E. L. Koakes .Bugler D. B. Treacher .
It will be seen from the above list that eleven decorations were given to the Battalion, and that another six names were included in the list of mentions. Compared with the number of decorations granted later in France, this seems a very scanty list. The recipients, however, have the right to feel additional pride in the fact that their valour was conspicuous at a time when the best and bravest men were in the field, and when recognition was very difficult to get. Those who were passed over have the satisfaction of knowing that they, too, fought at Anzac, and it is an honour for any man to be able to say that.
The following were promoted to commissioned rank during the fighting. Promotion of this sort was in itself a very great honour:—
- Lieutenant.—Fletcher.
- Lieutenant.—Dittmer.
- Lieutenant.—Graham Reid.
- Lieutenant.—Holland.
- Lieutenant.—John McKenzie.
- Lieutenant.—Page.
- Lieutenant.—Jack.
January, February and March were very important months in the history of the N.Z.E.F. In Moascar the Infantry Brigade swelled to three brigades, and with Divisional troops and Artillery became the New Zealand Division. This was made possible by the arrival of the Rifle Brigade, the Seventh, Eighth and Ninth Reinforcements, and the return of a great number of sick and wounded from hospital. The Auckland, Wellington, Canterbury and Otago Regiments formed two battalions, out of which, on March 1, 1916, the 2nd N.Z. Infantry Brigade was constituted.
2/Auckland were formed at Albury Hill—a point some four miles to the east of the Canal. The nucleus consisted of a small group, some thirty-five all told, who broke away from the old battalion and went out with nothing, execpt their personal belongings. Major, now Lieutenant-Colonel, Alderman was in command. Major S. S. Allen, Lieutenant Page, Lieutenant McKenzie, Lieutenant Seddon (recently promoted), Dr. Addison, Sergeant-Majors Hewitt, Goodwin, Cameron, Tuck, Sergeant Gordon and Corporal Carter were the bestknown members of this nucleus party. Major Wyman, one of the most distinguished officers of the Auckland Mounted Rifles, was drafted in. Lieutenant McClurg, coming from the Rifle Brigade, was made Quartermaster. Gradually at first, and then very rapidly, the new battalion grew in numbers and acquired much property—not always by constitutional methods. Many sick and wounded swelled the numbers. The Eighth and Ninth Reinforcements joined up. Like the earth in the early stages of creation the new battalion was "without form and void." Colonel Alderman, however, had a genius for organisation and training. He brought the whole formless mass together into one place, and then in half an hour had
- 3rd Company: Captain Kirker. 6th Company: Captain Davis.
- 15th Company: Major Wyman.
- 16th Company: Captain Grainger.
The feeling with regard to promotions from the ranks became very acute. There were in all the battalions a number of exceedingly capable N.C.O.'s who had been very much to the fore throughout the Gallipoli Campaign. These men thought, and with reason, that as so many new officers were required it was only bare justice that they should receive the promotion they had so thoroughly well earned. To their dismay it was found that each reinforcement was bringing a quota of officers more than sufficient to meet all requirements. None of these men had anything to recommend them especially, except that in some cases they had had a certain amount of Territorial experience. If the system were to be continued it would mean that promotion from the ranks would be practically impossible, and that men inexperienced and unproven would continually be taking commands, ranging from a platoon to a company. Strong protests were made. The Commanding Officers were generally favourable, and three of them waited on Generals Russell and Godley. General Godlcy stated that the matter had received his attention. He was quite in
Training went on without interruption, very much on the same lines as in the days of the Main Body, with the exception that there was no Cairo in which to spend leisure time. After the work of the day, which usually finished up at 2 p.m., the main diversion consisted in bathing. Lake Timsah was quite ideal for that purpose. Thousands of men were bathing every day. It was a wonderful sight to see the blue waters of the lake, with the circle of sun-kissed sandhills just broken here and there by clumps of palms, and the splendidly developed bodies of the bathers.
Ismailia itself, though a pretty little place, had comparatively few attractions; yet, as there was nowhere else to go, except the wide desert, the town was thronged during all leave hours. It was at Moascar that the N.Z.Y.M.C.A. made its first appearance with the fighting troops of the Dominion. Two huts were erected, and much good work was done.
Life once more became monotonous, and the next move was eagerly waited for. No definite statements were made,
The New Zealand Division, under Major-General Sir A. H. Russell, K.C.M.G., was to proceed to France.
On the night of April 5/6th, 1/Auckland entrained for Port Said, and there embarked on the Franconia. Next day 2/Auckland embarked on the Ascania from Alexandria. The voyage across the Mediterranean was quite uneventful, although the presence of German submarines created a certain amount of interest. The Huns were, however, distinctly unfortunate. A well-placed torpedo would have sent either of the Auckland Battalions to the bottom, and thus saved a very great subsequent waste of ammunition, not to mention the lives of many patriotic but unfortunate German citizens.
Green hills rising from the sea! The Chateau d'If, the island prison of Monte Cristo! Churches and buildings of ancient grey stone! The City of Marseilles and the Land of France!
There was no delay. The transports ran alongside great wharves, and within a few hours disembarkation commenced. The men marched to the waiting trains, a distance of a few hundred yards only, and rapidly entrained. The famous trucks of "40 hommes et 8 chevaux en long" were for a later time. For this journey the rank and file had third-class compartment carriages. For three days the trains were passing through the pleasant land of France. Blooming orchards, green fields, white-walled and red-roofed villages, stately chateaux, beautiful towns, all were looking their best in the spring sunshine. Speed was apparently no object. Men, whose limbs were cramped with sitting so long in the confined space, would get out and walk alongside whenever a hill had to be climbed. Groups of French girls and French children stood by the side of the line, calling out a shrill welcome in classical Australian. Every here and there fatigue parties had dixies boiling beside the line, and tea heavily reinforced with rum, was served out. Incidentally, it may be mentioned, now the war is over, that not a few emergency rations of tea were opened without "an order from an officer" and brewed with water from the engine. Town after town was passed—Avignon, Orange, Lyons, Dijon. The Statue of Vercingetorix, the first hero of a struggle for the liberties of France, stood proudly on the hillside at Aries. At Versailles, Paris was side-tracked, and the trains went on through Rouen, Abbeville, Etaples, past Calais, through St.
1/Auckland arrived on April 16th, and marched away to look for billets somewhere between the village of Morbecque and the town of Hazebrouck. The interpreter was missing. It was popularly supposed that he had provided himself with a sweetheart in Hazebrouck, so as to avoid wasting time between the trains. While a search was being made for the missing functionary, who by the way ultimately turned out to be the village priest, the Battalion shivered on the cobble-stones of the street. Billets were finally discovered to be certain farmhouses between Hazebrouck and Morbecque. The most hazy ideas had been entertained on the subject of billets. Not a few had expected to be quartered by twos and threes on French families, to sleep in the best bedrooms, and generally to be entertained with considerable state. It was a rude shock to visionaries of this sort to be thrust into a lean-to off the pig-sty. The weather was not nearly so good as it had been in the south of France. There was a great deal of cold, misty rain. Everything was sloppy and muddy. It was not easy to keep warm, and, in consequence, the first impression of billets was not as favourable as it might have been. The French folk were soon well liked, and the language question was settled by the use of a few words often repeated, broad smiles and frequent gestures. "Mademoiselle" here came into vogue, but of her more later. The quaint French customs, their different outlook on many things, were all of interest, but in the cold weather the ones who possessed fires and sold coffee to the troops were the most popular. It was a terrible tragedy to find beer selling at a penny a glass and to have no money. Everyone was bankrupt, and so for a fortnight the French folk marvelled at the wonderful sobriety of the New Zealanders. They probably thought that it was one of the national characteristics of their guests to refrain from intoxicating liquors—evidently an idosyncrasy similar to the strange craze some of these Colonials had for bathing themselves. One day certain officers, who shall be nameless, desired of their
It is a very regrettable fact that madarae's cows showed a deplorable lack of restraint, and were evidently quite prepared to be milked in any language.
2/Auckland arrived at Steenbecque station on April 19th, and immediately marched some kilometres to Rebecque, where the billets were found to be not very good. Here, again, there was a great thirst caused by lack of funds. At last, however, came the long-desired day—and the disillusionment of the villagers. Next day the Battalion marched to fresh billets at Bleu. It was a very long and hard march, and after the celebrations of the evening before, the tramp, tramp, tramp along the cobbled roads came none the easier. Many fell out, and the memory of that march still lingers.
Morbecque and Bleu were no very great distance from the firing line. In the still evening air the rumble of the guns could be distinctly heard, and from any eminence the flares could be seen, tiny points of fire, rising in the distance.
"There's a township torn and shattered,
There are streets of broken brick,
Where the shells have crumped and battered
Where the mule-teams rear and kick,
And the sweating driver curses,
As the pellets zip and tear,
'Oh, confound this German shrapnel;
Up, you blighters! C'est la guerre.',
There's a winsome little maiden
Always greets me with a laugh,
And her eyes with mirth are laden—
Eyes that question, dance and chaff.
There's a crash that shakes the pave,,
Splinters zutting through the air—
'Ah, my God; one's caught the girlie!
Pauvre petite: mais c'est la guerre.'"
The New Zealanders took over the sector of Armentieres. The place had a reputation for quietness, and for many months had been looked upon as one of the best "rest-camps" on the line. "Doan'e ye fire at him, choom, and he woan't fire at you," seems to have been the principle on which the war was conducted in these parts.
On May 13th, 1916, 1/Auckland went into the line at "La Chapelle d'Armentieres," and on the following day 2/Auckland took over the "l'Epinette" sector. For the next three months trench warfare went on without interruption, and gradually increased in intensity and fun.
The trenches were old, and in many places not in the best condition. A very great deal of work was required, draining, revetting, clearing, sand-bagging, before they could be passed as satisfactory. Lieutenant-Colonel Alderman made particularly strenuous efforts in this direction. "Dig, men, dig! Do you want to live, then dig!" 2/Auckland perforce dug. Two-thirds of war is just sheer hard manual toil, digging and carrying.
Much interest was naturally centred in "No-Man's-Land" and the German territory adjacent thereto. A certain amount of mutual recrimination was always being carried on. "In
As time went on, gentlemen with blue and red round their field-grey caps made themselves less conspicuous, although the signs of their activities were still to be seen. "A maul was observed over the parapet driving stakes"; deduction would point to the fact of a certain motive power, probably a Hun, at the other end of it. "A dummy gun and a dummy man were perceived on the opposing parapet."
Our L.T.M.B.'s were very active continually bombarding sections of the enemy line. A few "aerial torpedoes" come over, and "our Lewis guns fire 4500 rounds in retaliation."
This mutual retaliation business catches the imagination of
On June 2nd the Germans put up sign-boards giving notice of the sea-fight at Jutland. Mutual recrimination once more followed, with the result that 2/Auckland suffered a number of casualties. On the 22nd the same unit had the misfortune to lose Major Wyman, wounded. He had served with the Mounted Rifles at Anzac, winning the D.S.O. and a very great reputation. In the reorganisation he had been sent to the Infantry, and had been placed in command of the I5th Company. A man of the type of
A few days later,
1/Auckland went into the l'Epinette sector on June 21st, occupying trenches 73, 74, 75 and 76, the strong points SPX and SPY, Willow Walk and Buterne Farm. Willow Walk, Plank Avenue and Japan Avenue led to the front line, which was held by the 15th and 16th Companies. Everything went well until the afternoon of July 3rd, when the Germans commenced to range with a big naval gun. This was an ominous sign. At 9 p.m. a coloured flare went up from the enemy rear line. There was a feeling of impending danger. At 10.30 p.m. hell suddenly broke loose. Every kind of missile rained down upon the front line. The parapet was blown in, dug-outs smashed, men killed, wounded and buried alive. For an hour the noise continued, the detonations filling the night with sound, the flashes lighting up the darkness. The Huns were about to raid. It was impossible to move about, but every man grasped his rifle, crouched down beneath what shelter was left, ready to leap up and fire as soon as the barrage lifted and the raiders should endeavour to push in. The air was heavy with smoke and fumes and the smell of phosphorus. In a little trench ahead of the front line, Corporal Best and five men of the 16th Company were stationed on outpost duty. It was impossible for them to get back, as the enemy barrage was falling between them and their own front line. They determined to fight, and as soon as the enemy barrage lifted fighting commenced. The little party, well supplied with bombs, made a most gallant resistance, and were not taken until their supply of bombs was exhausted and nearly every man wounded. Their stubborn and unexpected tight undoubtedly disorganised the raiders' plans. The telephone wires were all cut, but before communication quite ceased Battalion Headquarters got in touch with the front line, and Armentieres—FleurbaixNorth of France—Belgium—The Rhine.
Altogether it had been a very bloody and expensive business, 33 O.R.'s being killed, 1 officer and 63 O.R.'s wounded. and 5 O.R.'s missing. The officer, Captain Morpeth, was a very brave and excellent soldier. He was singularly unfortunate, having been badly wounded the day of the Landing, and now, after a few weeks only of trench warfare, he was so badly hurt as to be incapacitated for further service. Sergeant Major Todd, of the 16th, especially distinguished himself in holding the company together. His coolness, resolution and cheerfulness were most marked. When the artillery fire first opened, R.S.M. Thompson was in Houplines, chatting with friends in the 2/Auckland R.A.P. As soon as the uproar was heard, he stopped suddenly, drew himself up, listened for a moment, and then said that he must go to his battalion at once. He was trembling; everyone knew that he feared to go into the bursting hell of noise ahead; but he did go, and went not only to his Battalion Headquarters, but right up to the
On the 19th July 1/Auckland were to carry out a raid from the Port Egal sector. This was not a success, owing to a certain confusion in the arrangements. Sergeant Fox and three men were the only ones to enter the enemy trenches. All through the Armentieres period Sergeant Fox continued to uphold the very high reputation he had won at Anzac, doing very much fine patrol work. During the preliminary movements before the raid, Lieutenant Gasparich, a hero of the Daisy Patch, and one of the most popular members of the Main Body, was wounded for the third time, and permanently incapacitated.
2/Auckland during this period were holding the line in front of Houplines, and continuing to have quite an uneventful time. On the night of 12/13th August, Captain Armstrong carried out a highly successful little raid. The party had been carefully trained. Captain Armstrong had with him Lieutenant Cooper, one of the best and ablest of the Gallipoli men. The ground had been most carefully reconnoitred, and everything went exactly according to plan. The party assembled in No-Man's-Land under a covering barrage, moved up toward the gaps in the enemy wire, dashed in the instant the barrage lifted, bayonetted a few Huns, captured a machine-gun, the first taken by the New Zealanders in France, and two prisoners, and then, having achieved their purpose, withdrew without loss.
The only other incident of any importance during the time in the line was the discovery by Dr. Nelson of 1/Auckland of a large store of red wine in one of the abandoned buildings at La Chapelle d' Armentieres.
After the barren life at Anzac and the isolation of the desert, Armentieres was a good place. It was a quaint old-world town, built almost entirely of red brick. The churches, the religious foundations and the schools were the most
Armentierès, except for certain parts, was a city of silence. Grass was growing between the cobble-stones. Street after street was empty and silent. The glass in the windows was smashed by the detonations of the bursting shells. Every here and there a house was torn by a shell-hole in roof or wall. Some had been burst open, and all the pitiful relics of the once happy homes were lying in confusion amidst the tangle of rubbish on the floor. The life of a happy and industrious town was gone. More tragic than the loss of prosperity and the shattering of bricks and mortar was the death and wounding of women and children. Every day some of them were hit. The sight of a woman horribly dead, lying in the shattered smash of her home was terrible; to hear the groans and cries of a girl who half an hour before had been the life and soul of a crowded estaminet—a superb example of bright and splendid womanhood—and to realise that she was dying in agony was very terrible; and to find a little maid of six, goldenhaired and blue-eyed, the very picture of hundreds of the little sisters of our own homes—dying on the stones of the street from shock, was most terrible. War is horrible. Imagine the tragedy of this French town, with its shattered and desecrated homes, its silent streets, its long roll of women and children killed and wounded. But tragedy was never allowed to obtrude itself. The French folk were far too brave for that. Armentierès was for the New Zealanders a most cheerful place.
In between trench spells the Battalions were billeted in the town, 1/Auckland in the basement of the large blind factory at the rear of the town, and 2/Auckland in the Breuvert
The "estaminets" and "chip-shops," whether in the vicinity of the Blue Blind Factory or Barbed-wire-square, were centres of great revellings, where many a tall story was told in a dialect which consisted of distorted French mixed with English of an elementary and often sulphurous sort, accompanied with much gesture and more laughter. Chips, eggs, coffee and beer were all good in their way; but brave, cheerful, generous, good-natured mademoiselle was much better than them all What a wonderful creature she was—jamais fachee, jamais vexee; how willing she was to "promenade avec monsieur apres la guerre," or to go back with him to New Zealand "after de next war per-r-raps." "Mademoiselle from Armentierès," you were a good friend to the New Zealanders. You and they went through some hard times together, and you are not forgotten. Men in the bush camps and on the sheep runs, in the mine and factory, busy town and quiet countryside still talk of and think of you. They have married their old fiancees now, or are looking round for better ones—and you, your heroic men have come back, those who are left, and you, too. will be marrying and settling down. Fate and chance sent you the New Zealand men for a little while. For a brief space you were their womenfolk. You opened your hearts and your homes. You said that the "soldats de la Nouvelle Zelande étaient beaucoup bien aimés." They thank you, and do not forget.
The trenches were only twenty minutes walk from the town. At three o'clock in the morning a man might be wiring in No-Man's-Land, every now and again dodging the bursts from "Parapet Joe," whose favourite melody, "Where is my wandering boy to-night?" went to all hearts. At dawn, or a little before, he would file down through the saps and the silent town, have breakfast, sleep for a few hours, and then
Until "eight o'clock fineesh" there were the estaminets of innumerable madames and mademoiselles, Simonue, Louisa, Darkie, Ginger, and many another, at that time known to fame. Of course, all this sociability and real good fun gave opportunities for espionage, which otherwise would not have existed. Nevertheless, the "moral effect" of the civilian population was more than worth any harm that ensued. Armentieres, without its shops, estaminets and cafes, would have been as bad as Anzac.
Armentierès was only a trench spell, yet the casualties were by no means light. 1/Auckland lost a total of 265 officers and men, of whom 62 were killed, while 2/Auckland lost a total of 149, 22 being killed. The majority of the dead were carried back and buried in the cemetery behind the town. This cemetery will always be a sacred place for New Zealanders, as more than 300 of our dead are buried there—more than in any other one place in France.
July 1, 1916, the storm burst on the Somme. At that stage of the war there was no opening for brilliant strategy, no hope of large movements. The German was almost at the climax of his strength. He had guns, he had able commanders, he had brave men. The only thing that could be done was
All through June a mighty prelude was played on the whole line from Nieuport to Verdun. Every week the artillery fire grew more intense. Every week raids were more frequent. There was a tense feeling in the air—the expectation of battle. In the darkness of the night men looked southward to see if the sky was red with 8ame; in the quietness of the long night watches they listened for the rumble of the massed guns beating on the German lines. The battlefield of the Somme, like some huge magnet, drew to itself the imagination of all the Armies.
For six weeks the struggle waxed greater and greater, and then toward the middle of August the 51st Division marched into Armentierès with German pickelhaubes on their heads and the souvenirs of famous Prussian regiments in their haversacks. There was a wild time in the old town that night, with New Zealanders and Jocks holding high revel, greeting and parting in the same night. A wild night! and Fritz, to make it wilder, threw five-nine's about and therewith slew certain Scotchmen.
Next morning the Battalions fell in and marched to Steenwerck railway station. "Good-bye, madame! Good-bye, mademoiselle! Good-bye piccanins! Nous allon kill beaucoup Bosches, come back promenade avec vous! Au revoir! Bon sante!" It was a straggling march. No one had done any marching for over three months, and everyone was soft. Moreover, it was the morning after the night before, and loads were heavy. Not a few dixies and other essential parts of the impedimenta were shamefully abandoned by the wayside.
"The New Zealand Division was a tower of strength on the right hand and on the left.'"
At Steenwerck the Battalions entrained on the famous trucks of "40 hommes et 8 chevaux en long," and so arrived at the little village of Ebblingham, from whence 1/Auckland marched to Campagne and 2/Auckland to Le Carnois. A night and a day in cramped billets, and then a night march to Arques, and from there by train through Abbeville to Pont Remy, from whence, on August 20, 1/Auckland marched to Neuville-Forceville and 2/Auckland to Allery. The next twelve days were spent in re-equipping, organisation and battle training. These days were amongst the happiest in France. The sun shone, trees and fields were green. Everyone ate well, drank well and slept well. Training was not too hard. Above all, madame and madamoiselle were kind, and loved their new guests well. Friendships are formed wonderfully quickly when there are only a few days for the business. Months and years afterwards many of these friendships were still kept up, and there were several men who had "beaucoup correspondence" with the village maidens. Field days, route marching and good living made the Battalions very fit. While in this area Sergeant-Majors
First Battle of the Somme— 1916.
September 2nd saw the Division once more on the move, 1/Auckland marching to Airaines and 2/Auckland to Riencourt. During the afternoon, just as everyone was thinking it high time to stop for the day, when packs were growing heavy and feet sore, several motor lorries passed crammed full of German prisoners, at which sight there was considerable murmuring.
The general opinion was that positions should be reversed, Auckland on the lorries and Huns trudging wearily along the "pave" roads. Another march through green fields and country lanes brought the First Battalion to Yseux and the Second to Picquigny, a typical little French town, and a place of considerable historical interest. A peace between England and France was once signed here, probably in the old mouldering castle which crowns the hilltop and looks down upon the gently-flowing Somme. Now every night the flares could be seen rising along the fighting line, and the thunder of the guns was like the sea-surf rolling in on the long ocean beaches. A four days halt, with shooting and training, and then once more the march went on past Amiens, through Poulainville and Cardonnette, until, on September 8th, the Battalions bivouacked in the fields not far behind the 12-inch naval guns and the edge of the battlefield. The Albert-Amiens road was dense with traffic guns, motor lorries of provisions, waggon loads of ammunition all moving in; Red Cross cars, broken and empty limbers moving out. It was a greatly travelled way, and during the next two days men would sit by the roadside for hours at a time gazing at the traffic passing to and fro. Many walked into Albert and saw the famous figure of the Virgin hanging from the front of the Cathedral. Everyone was splendidly fit. The New Zealand Division was marching down to its first great battle in the land of France. All were determined to demonstrate to friend and foe alike that they could fight as well in Picardy as on the slopes of Sari Bair.
The whole effort of the British Army was for the time being centred on the tactical objective of Bapaume, as that of the French on Peronne. It was thought that the taking of
On September 10th 2/Auckland left the Albert area and moved up through Fricourt, Bazentin and Contalmaison to Mametz Wood. Once the old front line was passed, evidence of tremendous fighting became ever plainer. Fricourt was a heap of ruins. Cemeteries were frequent. Debris of all sorts was lying everywhere. The guns became more numerous. Men realised the magnitude of the conflict raging so short a distance in front. Mametz Wood itself, where the Battalion bivouacked, had been blasted with fire. Two days were spent in the wood, and then on September 12th the Battalion took over the line in front of Green Dump.
The fighting strength was 600. Lieutenant-Colonel Brown was in command, with Lieutenant McClurg as his adjutant. Captain Armstrong was in command of the 3rd Company, Captain Hunter of the 6th, Major McKenzie of the 15th, and Captain Grainger of the 16th. Dr. Addison was in charge of
Throughout the 13th and 14th the Aucklanders made a steady creep forward in preparation for the battle. The Hun artillery was very active, and a number of men were killed and wounded. The Battalion was to attack in line of companies in company column, with the 3rd, 15th, 6th and 16th in order from right to left. Companies were drawn up in four waves, with an interval of fifty yards between each wave on a total frontage of six hundred yards. The night was bitterly cold. A light misty rain fell intermittently, and the hours passed miserably.
All night the guns were active, and toward morning the firing grew more intense. At six o'clock there was a considerable rattle of machine-gun fire. The stationary barrage was falling in rear of the enemy line, and there was a constant sighing and droning in the air as the big howitzer shells went over. At 6.20 a.m., in a wide circle of flame and a great crash of sound the "creeping barrage" fell on the German trenches. It was the signal, and the whole attack moved forward with a thrust and weight that was irresistible. The Aucklanders and Otagos went straight forward in lines of assault, and behind them, as far as the eye could see, were the battalions of the Rifle Brigade moving in sections in artillery formation. To the right and left were the files of Guardsmen, South Africans, English Territorials and Irishmen. Here and there, not quite keeping pace with the infantry, were the "tanks," the mysterious new weapons of war, whose advent had been heralded by a confused rumour, but no certainty. Now they were a real presence, an inspiration of victory to our men, a great fear and terror to the enemy. There was a steady surge forward of the whole vast mass. It was a wonderful, an inspiring, a stupendous sight.
Scarcely, however, had the first line left the shell-holes in which they had assembled than the rockets went soaring up from the German posts, calling urgently for the protective
Very eagerly the Aucklanders press forward close to the heels of their barrage. They are too eager. They press too closely, and many fall from the bursts of their own shells. "Crest Trench," the Hun observation post, is reached—a few shots and bayonet thrusts and it is passed. Now there is a quickening of the pulse. Below in the rain of shells is the Switch Line. They close down upon it. Forty yards away the leading waves merge. They wait for the barrage to lift. There is shooting and bombing at short range. The line of gleaming bayonets, of staring eyes and of set, drawn faces, is waiting for the signal to dash in on this trench, packed with Huns. In places the enemy stand shoulder to shoulder. Now the stickgrenades are coming over in showers, for there are brave men amongst them, who see that if they can but stay this attacking line, hold it at bombing range for a few moments, then the time of grace will have passed, the machine-guns will come into play, and the "verdamnt Englanders" will be mown down, as they have been time and time again during the last few weeks. But now the third wave has come up. Lieutenants Tuck, Cooper, Senior and Stewart, the platoon commanders, Sergeant Hill, Sergeant Gordon, the section leaders, men here and there all along the line, take the initiative. The wave breaks and floods over the Hun line. Many of the enemy died fighting very bravely, many were shot down endeavouring to retreat down the hill, some were bayoneted screaming for mercy, but none except the wounded escaped. Few prisoners were taken by 2/Auckland.
The fourth wave, under the company commanders, came in, and at once a start was made with the consolidation of the position. Generally speaking, the new line was taken up about fifty yards in front of Switch Trench.
The Rifle Brigade passed through and went on to the more
2/Auckland dug for dear life. It was well they did so, for the German fire was extremely heavy all day long. During the period of consolidation the Battalion lost some of its best officers. Captain Armstrong started off, his walking stick in one hand, his overcoat thrown over his arm, walking coolly through the bursting shells. He reached his company objective, and, with magnificent coolness and an utter contempt for danger, was directing his men where to dig in, when he was hit through the arm and chest, and fell mortally wounded. He was a man who, if he had lived, would have risen high.
Carter, the signal corporal, followed the whole advance. He it was who took the telephone wire across Switch Line and then right into Flers village, from where, at 9 a.m., he transmitted the first message through to Brigade Headquarters. Then all day long, under extremely heavy shell fire, he passed backward and forward, mending breaks and keeping the line of communication clear.
Brown, the stretcher-bearer, commenced the wonderful work that, continued through the next three weeks, was to earn him a reputation for bravery and devotion to duty second to no man in the whole Battalion.
The Regimental Aid Post earned great praise for its work. The doctor and his assistants worked all day in one of the most heavily shelled areas of the whole battlefield. All around
Colonel Brown won for himself the confidence, esteem and devotion of his whole command. He set a fine example of personal courage. His practical common sense removed difficulties, and ensured smooth working, while his sympathy and thought fulness gained for him the affection of all.
2/Auckland held Switch Trench through the night, and next morning were relieved, going back to Check Line and Thistle Dump. The losses had been considerable. Six officers, Captains Hunter and Armstrong, Lieutenants Dagg, Sheridan, McLean and Bremner were killed, while Lieutenant Page, one of the original Main Body sergeant-majors, a very brave and able soldier, died of wounds. Fifty-two O.R.'s were killed. Seven officers, Captain Grainger, Lieutenants Cooper, Hewitt, Tuck, Hudson, Raine and McClurg, were wounded, also 231 O.R.'s. Twelve men were missing, making a total of 309 casualties.
1/Auckland, on the morning of the 15th September, moved from Fricourt Wood to Mametz Wood, where they beguiled the time by raiding the Guards' canteen. Next day they marched to the battlefield and took over from a battalion of the Rifle Brigade. Orders were issued for an attack on Goose Alley, but after the preparations had been made these orders were cancelled, and the Battalion dug the left defensive flank for the New Zealand Division. At 6 p.m. the following evening a party of bombers successfully bombed up a section of the Flers Trench. On the 18th the Battalion was relieved and went back to Check, Savoy and Carlton trenches, and there remained for several days, doing carrying and working parties.
The night of the 18/19th, 2/Auckland took over part of Flers Trench, adjoining Goose Alley, which, together with sections of Flers Trench and Flers Support, was still held by the enemy.
A night relief over a torn battlefield, where men have a long way to go to a goal that even the guides are not certain of, tries the temper of the most good-natured. Progress is very slow. Often the saps are blocked by men coming out. There is a stop every fifty yards, while a file of dirty, tired, cursing men jam past. The men going in are loaded up, not only with arms and equipment, but with sand-bags of rations, machine-gun panniers, and all the numberless essential things that may be required. They stumble on for three or four hours, floundering through mud, falling into shell-holes, tripping over the broken strands of barbed wire, losing touch and direction. German shells fall at random, and as the files come nearer to the long line of brilliant green flares which mark the far side of No-Man's-Land, there is the "rat-tat-tat" of the machine-gun and the wheen and whizz of bullets passing overhead. At last the parados of the fire-trench looms up, and there are whispered welcomes from the worn-out watchers, who immediately hand over and vanish back in the darkness. The relief is complete. Some huddle up in little scrapings in the wall of the trench and so endeavour to snatch a little sleep. Others stand silently on the fire-step peering out into the uncertain gloom. A few stamp up and down to bring back circulation to numbed feet. Patrol parties creep out to search No-Man's-Land and to guard against surprise.
These terrible night reliefs were a feature of the Somme Battle. Being relieved was a somewhat more cheerful business, inasmuch as there was usually less to carry, daylight was at hand, and there was prospect of a hot meal at the end of the march. 2/Auckland, holding about a thousand yards of front line, found themselves in a somewhat curious position.
The Germans were holding a considerable portion of Goose Alley, in particular the crossings of Flers Trench and Flers Support. For all practical purposes the enemy were not on
The trenches had been dug, but never finished, and, in consequence, the continuous rain soon turned them into quagmires. The greater part of the Battalion simply stood and shivered for three days and nights, feet gradually getting colder and colder, while the German artillery shelled intermittently. On the exposed flank there was more excitement without any lessening of the discomfort. Lieutenant Seddon, who had been too shaken to take part in the battle of the 15th, was now back, and led a bombing party along Flers Trench, gaining something like fifty yards of line.
2/Canterbury were ordered up to take Goose Alley during the night of the 20/21st. They passed through 2/Auckland. and drew up at 8.30 p.m. in the sunken road. After some very stiff fighting, in which the issue was for a considerable time in doubt, the objectives were taken, very largely as a result of the help and encouragement given by the Aucklanders. Sergeant Gordon, "old Tom Gordon," of the 15th Company, was particularly prominent, and at one critical moment rallied the attacking force when they were giving way, and led on to victory. The enemy counter-attacked at dawn, but were driven off. They came again in the afternoon, but had no better fortune. During this attack the Auckland Battalion Headquarters did some excellent sharp-shooting, and the Trench Mortar Battery, under Lieutenant "Jock" McKenzie, also did some very fine work. While in this portion of the line the Battalion ration parties, under Major S. S. Allen, had an extremely difficult task. It was not possible to come up during the day, and, in consequence, the carrying had to be done at night. The nights were extremely dark, the path obscure and frightfully rough, the loads heavy, and the shell fire frequently very
During the night of the 23/24th, after another day of misery in the wet and cold, 2/Auckland were relieved, and after a weary march back arrived in the Black Watch Area, and there settled down to recuperate.
Up to this date 1/Auckland had played a very small share in the battle. They had been in the line once for a short while only, and for the remainder of the time had been doing working parties or waiting in the reserve areas. Now the army was ready to exploit the success of the previous ten days fighting. The guns had gone forward, the position had been consolidated. Masses of cavalry were concentrated in rear, and their scouts were continually riding forward. To the infantry it seemed that at last the great hour had come for the break through. Rumour grew. The 1st New Zealand Infantry Brigade, the veterans of Anzac, were to smash the last line of German defence, and then through the breach they made would pour an avalanche of mobile troops. So it seemed to the glowing imagination of men somewhat intoxicated with the success of the first few days.
1/Auckland took over 750 yards of line running from Factory Corner, with Canterbury on one flank and Otago on the other. The objectives were Gird Trench and Gird Support. The distance between the Gird and Flers system left a very wide No-Man's-Land, and hence it was necessary to make a preliminary advance to secure a suitable jumping-off position for the main attack. This was done on the 25th, and the
Next day, the 2Sth September, the remnants of 1/
Men were tired and overwrought. Those who came out were but a few compared with the numbers who had gone in. The Aucklanders went into battle a little under 1500 strong. More than three hundred were left dead on the battlefield, while close on seven hundred were on their way to hospital. Heavy as the losses had been, they were counterbalanced by the greatness of the victory.
There was a great glow of feeling—a mood of exaltation. The New Zealanders had won a great reputation at Gallipoli, but yet there were critics who under-rated the fierceness of the struggle at Anzac. Now their doubts could no longer stand. On the battlefield of the Somme the New Zealand Division had been a tower of strength on the right hand and on the
"When the snow lay round about,
Deep and crisp and even.
Brightly shone the moon that night,
Though the frost was cruel;
When a poor man came in sight,
Gathering winter fuel."
The Division took three days to concentrate round about Albert, and then, when all had been withdrawn from the trenches, moved back by rail to the training area, 1/Auckland going through Longprè to Airaines, while 2/Auckland moved from Longprè to Liercourt. As the men marched by moonlight from the detraining stations through the beautiful countryside of the Somme Valley, they burst once more into song. For a time, at any rate, the horrors of the battlefield were left behind, and there would be estaminets, no doubt, and mademoiselles, and quite certainly hot meals and sleep.
"So pack all your troubles in your old kit-bag
And smile, boys, smile.
What's the use of worrying?
It never was worth while.
So as long as you've a lucifer to light your fag
Smile, boys, that's the style!"
As soon as the news got round that the New Zealanders were out of the battle the French folks walked miles to renew old acquaintances and very sincerely to mourn for friends who had not come back. The stay in the pleasant villages was all too short. The trains of "40 homines et 8 chevaux" were soon running north, and the Division, detraining at Bailleul, proceeded almost at once into the line, the 1st and 3rd Brigades occupying the Fleurbaix-Sailly sector, which based itself on the little town of Estaires, some eight kilometres south of Amentieres, while the 2/Brigade went back as part of "Frank's" force to its old sector in front of Houplines. The
2/Auckland returning to Armentieres were welcomed back with joy. The line was very quiet, and the sector seemed to have relapsed right back to its old peaceful state. There was very little to complain of, except the rather flooded condition of some of the trenches. In the first few days after the return from the Somme, the Battalion had the misfortune to lose Lieutenant Ancell, a very promising young officer, who was hit by a stray bullet while on patrol. A few other casualties occurred, and there were also a certain number of evacuations for sickness, brought on by the wet and cold.
The only incident of the six weeks spent on this sector was a raid carried out by Lieutenant Hally and thirty men. The party went straight across, found the gap in the wire by means of an electric torch, and entered the German line. They bombed the dug-outs and took three prisoners, one of whom came to a bad end on the return journey, owing to his insubordinate behaviour. The other two, very mild and inoffensive people, were brought back safe and sound. No one was hurt, and the only ones to suffer any inconvenience were three Canterbury men, whose bay was blown in on top of them during a little retaliation by the Hun artillery. They were only half buried, and, having their heads free, lit cigarettes to pass the time until some friendly soul should arrive to dig them out. Unfortunately for them, the first to come by were the raiders, very elate at their success. Unlike the man in the parable, they did not pass by on the other side, but marched straight on over the top of the prostrate Canterburians, whose cheerful resignation at once gave way to a very peevish exhibition of ill-temper.
The remainder of the time passed quietly enough, and on December 3rd the Battalion moved from Armentieres and rejoined the remainder of the Division in the Sailly-Fleurbaix sector, going into billets at La Gorgue, close to Laventie.
1/Auckland had been going in and out of the right
In front of the V.C. House sector the enemy bad withdrawn from their front line, going back to the higher levels of the Aubers Ridge. The position, therefore, was not well defined, and on December 1st three strong patrols went out and indulged in a very interesting wander round, which established the fact that the enemy were certainly not holding portions of their trenches, owing to the bad condition of the ground. The same night a German patrol bombed Cellar Farm. Then came three weeks of an almost depressing quietness. Sometimes it seemed that the war had stopped. It became possible not merely to look over the parapet for a continued period, but to sit on it, and even to walk about in No-Man's-Land during the daytime. The Medium Trench Mortars commenced to demolish the abandoned German trench, and the infantry crowded up on the parapet and watched the "plumduffs" bursting with very much the same sense of security as a football crowd watching a match.
Quiet as the sector was at this time, there were ghastly
On this sector the Aucklanders first met that peculiar type of atrocity, the deep dug-out, built for the accommodation not of a few officers or a company headquarters, but as a home for three hundred men. The particular one in question was deep down in the bowels of the earth. It was wet, steaming, dimly lighted and badly ventilated, and the air was an unspeakable pollution.
Lieutenant Oxenham, on the night of December 21st, while out with a patrol party, endeavoured to pass the enemy wire and enter the trench. Unfortunately this particular section was held strongly, and heavy fire was at once directed on the party, with the result that two men were wounded and left in the enemy wire, while another fell in No-Man's-Land before he could reach safety. Next morning
For nearly three weeks 2/Auckland had been billeted in La Gorgue, mostly in French farms, places which have been
The New Zealand soldier was not a very religious person, but yet, being of a charitable nature, he was generally prepared to respect and even admire religion in others. The Army was vastly tolerant on all matters of individual character and conduct. One man's little peculiarity was to get drunk too often, another's idiosyncrasy was "two-up," the sport of kings, still another showed an alarming fondness for patrolling No-Man's Land, while one here and there was religious and held prayer meetings. "Well! what would you wish?" They were all good fellows, and small failings and eccentricities of this sort were really not worth noticing. At this time there were two men with the Battalion, Corporal Taylor of the attached N.Z.M.C. and Corporal Madill of the 3rd Company, a Presbyterian minister serving in the ranks, who felt called to publicly proclaim the Word of God. The service was held in the 3rd Company's billet, and will not readily be forgotten by any man who was there. A huge barn littered about with farm implements, the roof high up and in darkness, was the meeting place. Glowing braziers scattered here and there showed groups of men, playing cards, letter writing, reading, sleeping, gossiping. Outside the night was wet and cold. The report of a distant gun, the flash of the explosion were continual reminders of the fact of war. From the darkness outside a little group of men entered the circle of firelight, passed round hymn books, and then commenced to sing the old familiar hymns. Gradually the groups round the braziers joined in, until the old barn was full of the music of the English hymns. Corporal Taylor, standing on an old waggon, preached a sermon of wonderful power. For a space there was quietness, and then the service closed. The murmur of conversation swelled up again, the cards came out, the letters were finished, and all went on as before, save that many a man felt better for the flood of home memories the hour of devotion had called to mind.
During the winter the N.Z.Y.M.C.A. grew very rapidly. The main hut in Sailly will be remembered by all who were with the Division on the sector. Smaller out-stations became increasingly numerous. One "buckshee show" was installed in the support line on the right sub-sector. These Y.M. centres were very much appreciated and were always crowded.
On December 23rd 1/Auckland were relieved in the line by 2/Auckland, and so managed to have Christmas Day in billets. It was a much merrier day than that of the year previous on board the Marsova in Lemnos Harbour, with nothing but hard biscuits and cold water on which to make merry.
The New Year saw a complete reorganisation of the 1st and 2nd Brigades. The North Island Battalions now formed the 1st Brigade, and the South Island ones the 2nd Brigade. This change brought the 1st and 2nd Battalions of all the infantry regiments into very much closer touch with each other. From this time until the end of the war the 1st Brigade consisted of 1/Auckland and 2/Auckland, 1/Wellington and 2/Wellington.
Certain important promotions were also made at this time. Colonel Brown, D.S.O., was promoted to the command of the 1st Brigade, with the temporary rank of Brigadier-General.
Immediately after the reorganisation the 1st Brigade took over the Fleurbaix sector, and for the next month 1st and 2/Auckland relieved each other in the Tin Barn Avenue and J-Post trenches. The cold was intense, and the enemy only
February 10th, when 1/Auckland were in the line, an enterprising party of Germans, clothed in white, waited in the snow outside the wire for the patrol. The corporal in charge going first was seized—to use his own words "the snow flew up and hit him"—and rushed over No-Man's-Land to the enemy line. Two days later a party of the enemy were discovered in the gap between Auckland and Wellington. They retired after an interchange of bombs.
December had been very quiet. January saw the armies still frost-bound. In February was heard the first sound of the gathering storm which was to burst in fury with the coming of spring. All along the line there was continual raiding, as each side strove to test the enemy defence, and raids, not of twenty or thirty men, but raids of companies, and finally of battalions. 2/Auckland had the honour to be chosen from
Sixteen officers and 500 men formed the raiding party. The 16th, under Captain Hubbard, and the 6th, under Lieutenant "Jock" McKenzie, were to form the first wave, while the 15th and 3rd Companies, under Captains King and Mewett respectively, were to form the second. At two o'clock in the morning the men were awakened, and after a hot meal marched off toward the line. Lightly equipped, they carried rifle, bayonet, bandolier and bombs only. Pioneer parties had gone on before and cut gaps in the wire. The parties filed up past Wye Farm, through Gunners' Walk and Bay Avenue to the front line, every one being in place half an hour before zero. They waited quietly, bayonets fixed, looking backward for the flash of the signal gun. It came, and immediately after a circle of flame shot up around the horizon as the barrage opened. The first wave were away at once. They were in the wire before the roar of the first discharge was heard from the guns behind—they were half-way across No-Man's-Land when the enemy trench burst with a roar into a line of light, as the barrage fell. The frost had just broken, and the first thaw had weakened the ice over pools and shell-holes, melted most of the surface snow and softened the frozen ground. Everywhere was sloppy and muddy. Floundering across, the leaders were close on the
The stretcher-bearers were busy from the first. Brown was wounded in the back by a flying splinter very early, but carried on until every man was clear. The Huns very quickly reoccupied their front line, and then occurred a very
The great raid was over, and there remained but to balance the results. On the one hand, 198 of the enemy were counted dead in the line, and 45 prisoners had been taken; on the other side, Captain King and 17 men had been killed, 6 officers and 75 men wounded, while 56 men were missing; a total of 159.
Next morning in the Clearing Station at Estaires died
The Battalion marched to Estaires the day following the
"Day by day we dig new trenches,
Bury war-created stenches
Build up castles in the mud, and drain the floor.
Night by night the big guns thunder,
Trench and castle rend asunder;
And at dawn we start to dig and build once more."
The sector, Le Bizet—Ploegsteert, was adjacent to the old Houplines one, and lay just across the canalised River Lys. Le Bizet itself was a suburb of Armentières, and was connected by means of a bridge with the town itself. "Mademoiselle of Armentières" was therefore quite handy, and so many old friendships were renewed. Would-be visitors, however, were very much restricted by reason of passes being demanded by the bridge guards. As there were only two bridges this was something more than a formality, especially when the guards were composed of conscientious Tommies.
1/Auckland took over the Despierre Farm sub-sector, which consisted of "two gaps and three localities." The trenches had been shockingly neglected, and were simply tumbling to pieces. Apparently no maintenance work had been done for months. The Germans in the line opposite had gained a decided ascendancy. Rumour even ran that they were in the habit of coming over at meal times and taking the steaming dixies back with them. They were certainly active, both with snipers and minenwerfer guns. Despite their hostility, they were a courteous people, and the day after the Aucklanders took over the line the following notice was displayed over their parapet:—
This news of the death and burial of an English officer,
On the night of February 28th the Germans, following a heavy barrage of minenwerfers, raided the 16th Waikatos. Despite very determined attempts, most of them penetrated no further than the wire. The Waikatos were on the alert, and for a quarter of an hour there was a very lively exchange of bombs. A German officer was the only one to reach the trench. Badly wounded though he was, he stood on the parapet bombing, and then leaped in, to be bayoneted by the defenders. Sergeant-Major Todd and "Jimmy" Greenwood, a recent transfer from the N.Z.M.C., both distinguished themselves greatly. Before dawn the enemy removed their wounded, but left thirteen dead men "standing up" in the wire. The Auckland casualties were ten killed and fifteen wounded. During the day a party was told off to go out after dark and bring in the German dead for the purpose of identification and burial. They were a little late in starting, however, and on arriving at the spot found that the enemy had stolen a march on them, and had removed all traces of their previous visit.
March 1st, 1/Auckland were relieved by 2/Auckland, going into support at Le Bizet. 2/Auckland's stay in was entirely uneventful, although rather uncomfortable for the men in the dilapidated front line. They, in turn, were relieved by the 1st Battalion, and after another period of eight days the two battalions went back to Nieppe, from where 1/Auckland proceeded to Aldershot Camp and 2/Auckland to De Seule. On the 31st March 1/Auckland went into support at Ploegsteert, and on the following day 2/Auckland relieved the 3rd Battalion of the Rifle Brigade in front of Hill 63.
The weather at this time was very variable. The dry cold had gone. Snow, rain, hail and sleet alternated. In between whiles there was a miserable drizzle. Although warm, the slush and wet made things even more uncomfortable than during the three months of intense cold. Occasionally, however a fine, warm sunny day brought a promise of spring
Hill 63 faced the famous Hill of Messines, and the British line ran along the Valley of the Douve, in front of Ploegsteert Wood and between the two hills. The village of Messines itself, crowning the heights, showed plainly out. It seemed very little damaged, its church towering over the lesser buildings, a most conspicuous landmark. The slope from the hilltop to the valley below was green and not greatly torn. The outlines of the German trenches were clearly visible. The fact of the hill impressed itself on the consciousness of the Division. It rose up before them as a perpetual challenge. It flaunted itself in mockery. Gradually the hill became a lure. Was it always to be a German hill, or were New Zealand bayonets to go up and over it?
Hill 63 was the buttress of the British line in these parts. It covered the railhead at Steenwerck, the town of Railleul and the main road running between Bailleul and Armentières. Behind it. as far as the eye could see, stretched level country, which would offer little natural difficulty to an advancing enemy. Branching off from the highway at Canteen Corner, the road ran through the small village of Romarin to the fool of Hill 63 at Red Lodge, now a somewhat dilapidated but picturesque ruin. From here it skirted the foot of the hill as far as Hyde Park Corner and Ploegsteert Wood. Here, close to Charing Cross Dressing Station, it junctioned with the Le Bizet-Ploegsteert road, which ran on between the trench lines to Messines. The rear slope of Hill 63 was heavily wooded, and in consequence of the excellent natural cover thus afforded it was nearly always densely populated. Huts were scattered amongst the trees, and deep dug-outs driven into the side of the hill. Social welfare was catered for by two well-known philanthropic institutions—the Y.M.C.A. and the Honourable
Saluting was another matter that required a periodical offensive. It was looked upon either as an imposition or as a big joke, and very seldom in the best light. From the time of General Godley's Gallipoli Manifesto to the effect "That there
To return to Hill 63 and the amusements thereof, it was found that not only the Higher Command of the British Army, but that of the German also, was opposed to the means of sociability. In fact the Huns went further, not only did they break up the "two-up rings" with H.E.'s, which were much more effective than M.P.'s, but they also destroyed the
2/Auckland's stay in the line was quite uneventful, and on the 6th April they were relieved by 1/Auckland, who took over the sector to the north of Ash Lane, 2/Auckland going back in support. It was during this spell that Plum-duff Dump, close to Battalion Headquarters, was blown up. The explosion was a tremendous one, and everybody in the vicinity was well shaken up. Fortunately very few casualties occurred, and as the cook's fire was not put out things were "not so bad." On April 15th, 2/Auckland relieved the 1/Battalion at Plus Douve Farm, and eight days later were themselves relieved. April 27th saw the 1st Battalion back on Hill 63 and the 2nd in the hutment camp at De Seule. Three days later 1/Auckland moved to Aldershot Camp and the 2nd Battalion to Neuve Eglise.
During the whole of this period the time not actually spent in the line was employed in preparing for the coming battle. There was little attempt at secrecy. The enemy were to be overwhelmed by a tremendous concentration of guns, aeroplanes, tanks and infantry. A battle of this description called for no subtle strategy, but for the most careful preparation and exact co-ordination of all branches of the service. An enormous amount of work was necessary digging new communication trenches, assembly trenches, gun-pits and burying cables. 1/Auckland were for the greater part of their working time employed on the latter job. With the success or failure of the battle depending so much on the work of the artillery it was supremely important that telephonic communication with all parts of the battlefield should be rendered as secure as possible. To ensure this, cable was buried six to eight feet deep right up to the front line. The greater part of this work had to be done at night. Working parties would fall in at any hour of the night deemed most suitable by the authorities, and march through the darkness to the allotted place, which in the case of 1/Auckland was usually Ploegsteert Wood. Engineer sappers were ready to mark out the task for the night. As a
On April 30th, 2/Auckland moved to Neuve Eglise and the 1st Battalion to Aldershot Camp, from where, on May 4th, they went into the line near Wulverghem. By this time the weather had definitely taken a turn for the better. Spring was coming, fields were green, and all the trees were bourgeoning. Activity on both sides increased. On May 5th and 6th the Huns brought up heavy guns and shelled the back areas, especially Neuve Eglise. It was a wild night. Some of the working parties had just come, in and were settling down to a well-earned rest after a hard job cable laying; others were preparing to go out, when of a sudden the big shells came flying over. A huge convent, however tranquil and secure a place it may have seemed to the Good Sisters and their flock of little maids in the quiet days of peace, gives small sense of sanctuary when the big guns are firing and the projectiles crashing down amongst the buildings. Most of the Battalion
At Neuve Eglise there was a fine field that lent itself admirably to the playing of cricket. The game was making progress, but unfortunately a Hun O.P. amongst the spectators very unfairly took sides at the wrong moment, considerably marring the perfect wicket by a well-placed H.E. Sundry bursts of shrapnel overhead could not deter such enthusiasts from carrying on, and it finally took a Brigade Order to stop play. At the time this was rather resented as a piece of unnecessary molly-coddling on the part of the "Heads," but, after the fall of Messines, men walking about in the ruins realised what an excellent view old Fritz must have had of the play. Perhaps, after all, the much-abused Higher Command could see a little further than ordinary individuals!
On May 8th, 1/Auckland were relieved, and two days later the whole Brigade moved back to the Strazeele-Ccestre area to commence the preparatory training for the coming battle. The 1st Battalion went into excellent billets at Pradelles, while the 2nd Battalion occupied a number of farmhouses on the outskirts of Strazeele itself. While in this area a Brigade Horse Messines, Hill 63—Ploegsteert, Warneton.
For the coming battle it was necessary that every man should not only be physically fit and expert in the use of his weapons, but also that he should have an accurate knowledge of his own particular task. In the Army training area a few kilometres outside St. Omer a full-size model of the Messines fortifications had been laid out, so that the attacking troops could rehearse as nearly as possible under actual conditions the operation they would have to perform when the day of
"From out the smoky pall of battle strife
The Ridge looms grey, but with uncertain line;
And all it's stricken fields are brown. No green remains.
Our dead lie thickly in the broken town,
All strangely still and quiet, unheeding now
The thunder of the conflict they have won."
The first day's march of about fifteen miles brought the Battalions through Wizernes and Arques to the Wallon-Cappel area, the next, another hard day, saw them passing through Hazbrouck and the Foret de Nieppe to the La Motte area, leaving a comparatively short march through to the Bailleul road and so along the pave, under the avenue of trees to De Seule and Canteen Corner. Tents were pitched in a little wood beyond, and the Battalions settled down for a brief spell, which many employed for the purpose of visiting the newly-arrived 4th Brigade, who were under canvas half-way between De Seule and Bailleul. The quiet period during the winter, when casualties had been reduced to a minimum, had led to the building up of a considerable surplus of men in the English Base Camps. Many of the Gallipoli and Somme men were now fully recovered, and once more ready for active service. With so many men on hand, and with a continual stream of reinforcements arriving, the authorities determined to organise another brigade of infantry. Experienced officers and N.C.O.'s were sent over from France to season the new recruits. The Brigade consisted of the newly-formed 3rd Battalions of the Auckland, Wellington, Canterbury and Otago Regiments. Formed at Codford March 15th, 1917, the new brigade had two months training, and then, after being reviewed by the King, was sent to France—joining up with the Division only a few days before the battle.
The 3/Auckland Battalion was commanded by
On June 3rd, 1/Auckland moved from Canteen Corner and went into support on Hill 63, while 2/Auckland took over the whole of the Divisional front. During the move forward it became increasingly evident that the time for the assault was close at hand. Everything was ready. Heavy railway tracks had been laid down as far forward as possible, and from these the light lines diverged in all directions, running up to the guns and ammunition dumps, which were everywhere. The massed guns were ranged in rows, clustered into little valleys, sheltered behind crest-lines, and in many cases standing boldly out in the open, protected from observation by camouflage netting only. W, X, Y, and Z overland routes from the concentration areas to the assembly trenches had been cleared and pegged out for the use of infantry moving up. Other routes were marked out for the walking wounded and prisoners of war. Red Lodge itself, heavily protected by means of reinforced concrete and sand-bag walls, had been fitted up as an advanced dressing station, the same thing had been done at Kandahar Farm, while at Hyde Park Corner a strong concrete dug-out had been built at the Charing Cross
Day by day the firing increased in intensity. The trench mortar, the flying pig, the eighteen-pounder, the six-inch howitzer, the nine-point-two, the twelve-inch, the fifteen-inch. the long-range naval gun, all pounded, hammered and searched the enemy lines. Every day the creeping barrage moved up Messines Hill. The green slope was gone; the clean outline of the trenches effaced; the village itself a heap of ruins. From the middle of No-Man's-Land to the reverse slope was a brown waste.
The Germans, knowing of a certainty that an attempt would be made upon the Ridge, had strengthened their defences, brought up fresh troops and more artillery. From the 1st June their guns were extremely active. They blew in the front line and practised a counter-barrage across the valley of the Douve. Barrage and counter-barrage, the whole dreadful machinery of attack and defence was tested in every part.
2/Auckland in the line had an extremely trying time. Every little while the enemy shelled heavily with whizz-bangs and five-nines. Dug-outs were blown in, and the line rapidly commenced to crumble away. Men crouched up against sandbags, squeezed into the safe corners or lay down beneath the fire-step to obtain a little overhead cover from the flying splinters that came zutting down upon the duck-walks. "Bang! Crash! Bang! Crash! Whizz-bang! Zirr-Zut"—for half an hour the air is full of splinters, flying débris, dust, smoke and infernal noise, Men sit quietly, nerves and muscles tensed up, braced for a shock, or ready to roll away if the parapet shall give way above them. They think of many things. The minds of some are clouded with fear. As each shell shrieks toward them they feel the agony of wounds, and suffer many times all the bitterness of death. Others, with a certain scientific detachment, speculate on the probable point of impact of an approaching shell, and then from its explosion the calibre of the enemy gun. A few force the sensations of the present moment back into the fringe of consciousness and focus their
The German guns ceased for a while, and those of the British opened up on the Hill in front. Messines vanished in smoke and drifting columns of dust. The fiery hail rained down on trench and dug-out. Nothing on the surface was safe, and twenty feet below ground the flying pig rooted and tore. German diaries show what a hell it must have been for them. "This everlasting murder. They send over shot after shot. The casualties increase terribly. All the trenches are clodded up. The English demolish our dug-out also. Casualty after casualty. No shelter left. They blow up the earth all round us. To look on such things is utter misery."
"O'er all the sand fell slowly wafting downDilated flakes of fire."
As dug-out and trench collapse in heaps of smoking debris little groups of men run across country seeking a fresh shelter,
Back on Hill 63, 1/Auckland were in huts and tents beneath the trees. Guns of all calibres were firing round them, and, in consequence, drawing retaliatory fire. At night the Germans sent over gas shells. Alarms were frequent, and rest was much disturbed. Respirators were in use a great part of the time. On the afternoon of June 5th, the 1st Battalion were relieved and went back to Canteen Corner to get a night's rest and to be served out with its final issue of gear and ammunition. 2/Auckland remained in the front line until the afternoon of the following day, and then, being relieved by a Battalion of the Rifle Brigade, went back to Midland Support—their battle-station.
The amount of extra equipment issued was very great. Perhaps in no other battle of the war did the private soldier carry quite so much. Steel helmet, rifle, bayonet, Webb equipment, full pouches of S.A.A., and an extra hundred rounds carried in bandoliers, entrenching tool, haversack and water-bottle, with the small box respirator slung on the chest, were quite sufficient to make a good load. In addition to these, every man carried two Mill's bombs in his breast-pockets and extra rations in his haversack, also a pick or shovel. Then distributed amongst the members of a platoon were wire-cutters of all sizes, shapes and descriptions, buckets of bombs, carriers full of rifle-grenades, spare Lewis-gun panniers and groundflares with which to signal position to contact aeroplanes. All officers and section commanders were supplied with small scale maps, showing in detail the enemy trench system in the area to be assailed by the New Zealand Division.
At dusk on the 6th, 1/Auckland fell in and commenced the march from Canteen Corner to their battle-station in Hanbury Support.
- 3rd Auckland:
Captain C. L. Knight . - 6th Hauraki:
Captain G. H. Holland , M.C. - 15th North Auckland:
Captain A. E. Alexander . - 16th Waikato:
Captain R. Tilsley , D.C.M.
Dr. Nelson was in charge of the R.A.P., and the Rev. Gavin was Chaplain. The Battalion never went into action with a finer fighting staff.
The march across open country was very slow, and owing to numerous delays and halts it was after midnight when the Battalion reached Hill 63. From there on progress was still more difficult. Strict orders had been issued that all troops moving forward must keep to the saps. The main sap leading from the crest of the hill forward to the assembly point was crowded, and stoppages were frequent. All night long the German gas shells were bursting on the slope. Every now and again helmets had to be worn, and progress ceased for the time being. Casualties occurred. At last Colonel Allen ordered the men out of the communication trench and led them directly overland to the allotted position, which was reached half an hour before zero. The British Artillery was silent. A few machine guns were firing, and an aeroplane flew low down over the trenches to drown the noise of the tanks moving forward.
2/Auckland, concentrated in and about Midland Support, had a fighting strength of 20 officers and 660 men.
- 3rd Auckland:
Captain F. E. Beamish . - 6th Hauraki:
Captain W. Watson . - 15th North Auckland:
Captain F. R. Foster . - 16th Waikato:
Captain C. H. McClelland .
Dr. Addison was still in charge of the R.A.P., while the
During the early part of the night the extra equipment and supplies had been served out, and then all ranks endeavoured to get what rest was possible. Gas shells were coming over continuously, and, in consequence, men had a choice of
General Plunder's objective was the Messines-Wytschaete Ridge, which was the buttress of the German line in the north. The New Zealand Division were given the task of storming Messines itself and of passing through some five hundred yards to the reverse side of the hill. On the right flank the 3rd Australian Division were attacking, and on the left the 25th Division of English troops. If the first part of the attack was successfully carried out, then troops of the 4th Australian Division would pass through the New Zealanders and go on to the final objective. The area to be occupied was divided by imaginary lines, the Blue, Brown, Yellow, Black, Black Dotted and Green, into six successive areas. The taking of the first three of these, which included the 1st and 2nd German trench systems on the forward slope and Messines Village itself, was entrusted to the N.Z.R.B. and the 2nd N.Z. Infantry Brigade. As soon as the village was taken the 1st Brigade (
At 3.10 a.m. there was a shaking of the earth, a column of leaping flame quickly obscured by smoke and debris, and then a muffled roar. The mines had gone up. A brief pause. the sudden rattle of thousands of machine-guns, a flash round the horizon, and then with a thunderblast of sound the great barrage fell on the German line. The long roll of the heavy guns and the quick, stabbing, bang-snap-bang of the eighteenpounder blended into one tremendous volume of sound. Up from the enemy posts went the signals of distress and warning, but their urgent appeal met with small response, for the Hun artillery had been overwhelmed by the weight of the British counter-battery work. For hours their field guns were out of action, and the only reply they could make was with long-range guns of heavy calibre.
Behind the moving wall of steel and flame the infantry flung themselves on the demoralised enemy. With little opposition and light casualties the N.Z.R.B. and the 2/Brigade took the Blue, Brown and Yellow lines. A few scattered groups of Germans made a show of resistance, but little more than a show; by far the greater number were too dazed and shaken to think of anything but immediate surrender.
The Auckland Battalions remained in the assembly trenches until 3.55 a.m., by which time dawn had broken, and then moved forward by half-platoons in file across the Douve and the old front line. Heavy black H.E. shrapnel burst overhead, but did little damage. Gas was met with in the valley, and respirators had to be worn during part of the ascent. Fortunately there was no lachrymatory mixed in with the phosgenechlorine preparation which was at that time generally used by the enemy and so it was only found necessary to adjust mouthpiece and nose clip to ensure perfect safety. Prisoners passed on their way to the cages—well set up men, who, from their spruce appearance, had evidently been but a short while in the line. Some of our wounded going back and a few dead lying here and there on the slope showed that the success so quickly attained had not been won except at a price. 2/Auckland concentrated round the Moulin de l'Hospice, and there took shelter in shell-holes and hastily dug trenches, waiting orders, while the 1/Battalion, passing to the right of Messines, drew up on the Wytschaete-Messines road in readiness for the attack on Ungodly Trench. At 4.55 a.m. the barrage moved forward. Nothing could face it, scarcely anything live under it, and so the 6th and 16th Companies had no difficulty in occupying the trench. With the same ease the 3rd and 13th Companies attacked and captured Unbearable Trench, finally digging in on the Black Line at 5.20 a.m. A strong point was established on the Black Dotted Line, and the Battalion's work was done. Battalion Headquarters and the 3rd and 6th Companies of 2/Auckland moved forward at 6.40 a.m. to a position in rear of the Black Line, from where they established four posts in the Black Dotted Line. Here a 77mm. gun was
The blow staggered the enemy army in the salient, and for two or three hours the Huns were utterly demoralised. A bold and daring sweep forward while the Battalions were flushed with victory, still comparatively fresh, and very little reduced in numbers, might have led to very great results. Instead, a policy of safety was adopted, and the consolidation of the newly-gained ground became the prime business of everyone. The Germans recovered quickly. What guns were still in position and undamaged opened a furious fire on the lost ground. Fresh batteries were rushed up, and the fire became more intense, and every moment made a strategic exploitation of the tactical victory a more difficult matter.
15th Company, 2/Auckland, were ordered to proceed to the front and dig communication between Ungodly and Unbearable Trenches. Moving round to the right of the village they came under direct observation, and were heavily shelled, only by extreme good fortune escaping with light casualties. On the completion of their task, the Divisional Front was fully established and held in its entirety by the Aucklanders.
From this time forward there was nothing to be done except watch, wait and endure. The day was hot, and the exertion, with the battle-smoke and the acrid fumes from the explosives, caused intense thirst. In some parts of. the line the digging uncovered numbers of tiny springs, the water from which, muddy and dirty though it was, served to supply the urgent need. Up in the front posts men ran greater risks from the short bursts of our own artillery than from the German fire. One battery of four big guns was continually firing short, and inflicted many casualties. For some reason or another, despite our complete control of the air and the large number of observation 'planes continually flying overhead, no message was got through to this battery. Its continued activity
At 3.10 p.m. the Australians moved through to take Owl Trench and Owl Support. For various reasons their attempt was far from a success, and they became entirely disorganised. Some stayed in No-Man's Land, others joined the garrisons of the posts, while others fell right back on the Black Line, and then could only with difficulty be restrained from going back further still.
During the afternoon
German machine-guns and snipers came into action again during the evening, and before nightfall were active. There was constant expectation of a counter-attack developing, and to make the position doubly secure numbers of machine-guns were rushed up to the forward side of the slope. Night fell. Under cover of darkness, organisation which had been impossible during the latter part of the afternoon, was rapidly carried out. Rumours got round that the advanced posts had been driven in and that the enemy were coming over in force. Men nerved themselves to resist to the uttermost, and took courage from the bursts of fire which rattled overhead from the machine-guns massed in rear. Nothing came, and when the sun rose on the morning of "A" Day it was generally felt that the position was secure. Throughout the battle Captains Holland and Tilsley, Lieutenant Fitchett, of 1/Auckland, and Lieutenants Tuck, Frank McKenzie, Stewart and Lorie, of 2/Auckland were a great source of inspiration to their men. That very brave and able soldier, Lieutenant Cooper, was killed. Sergeant Calame, of 1/Auckland, and Sergeant-Major Gordon, of 2/Auckland, especially distinguished themselves.
Early in the morning
The continuous strain of the last three days was commencing to tell on all ranks, and the order received that night to go back to Bulford and Kortypyp Camps was very welcome. The journey back was slow and tedious. Once across the old front line and passing along the saps to the crest of Hill 63, every man was carefully checked at Brigade Station. This at any rate was a rest, and tired men dozed off, leaning up against the trench wall or lying flat on the duck-boards. Up again, and moving down the slope, they passed through the mass of heavy guns. Brilliant green and yellow flames stabbed through the darkness, to be followed by a bellowing crash of sound. "Cr-r-r-a-a-sh." Twenty yards away a monstrous weapon explodes with a hideous clamour. A moment of intense blackness and then once more the flame of fire and the shock of the discharge. For half a mile, on both sides of the track, batteries are in action. The ordeal is terrible. A battery just ahead has the muzzles of its guns almost touching the road.
Casualties for the Auckland Regiment, although the heaviest in the Division, were very much lighter than in the Somrne Battle. They were:—
- 1/Auckland: Killed, 3 Officers, 39 O.R.'s; wounded, 4 Officers, 228 O.R.'s; missing, 16. Total, 290.
- 2/Auckland: Killed, 3 Officers, 57 O.R.'s; wounded, 8 Officers, 290 O.R.'s; missing, 23. Total, 381.
From the 11th until the 18th the Aucklanders were resting, re-equipping and re-organising. Not the least interesting part of the business were the attempts on the part of numerous section commanders to prove that sundry bomb-carriers and wire-clippers had been "destroyed by shell fire." It is quite possible that the articles in question had been so destroyed—after their tired owners had abandoned them in some convenient shell-hole. "Destroyed by shell fire" was a convenient formula which covered a multitude of sins. On the 12th, 1/Auckland moved to Regina Camp, a short distance from Romarin. Next day
As the war progressed, there were constant improvements in the art of killing. When the New Zealanders first went into the trenches at Armentières there were many alarms and much sounding of Strombos' horns, but no gas. After sweltering a few times in slimy, evil-smelling "P.H. helmets" the alarm of "gas" came to be looked upon as rather a bad joke. On the Somme the infantry had encountered lachrymatory gas, but this, although sometimes a nuisance, had no result, except a temporary irritation of the eyes. Goggles were served out to combat the effect of this gas, and were quite effective, though somewhat clumsy. Nothing occurred during the winter, and nearly everyone grew careless. "Cloud gas" had not been a great success. The cylinders from which it was released were difficult to carry, and were most dangerous things to have about in the line. Even when a cloud had
At Messines, gas casualties were numerous, and there was a general realisation of the seriousness of the thing. Much greater attention was paid both to the care of helmets and training men in the quickest and best methods of using them. The "small box respirator," issued shortly after the Somme, was an absolutely safe protection against any gas then used. A rubberised mask with eye-pieces, nose clip and expiratory valve fitted over the face. A rubber tube led from the mouthpiece to the tin canister containing chemical preparations which neutralised any harmful gas in the atmosphere. Only pure air passed through. In action the brown canvas haversack containing the apparatus was carried slung on the breast, and at other times slung at the side. At first the S.B.R. was looked upon as rather a mixed blessing. It certainly gave an extra sense of security, but then it made more to carry. Still there were compensations. With a scarf on top it made a most excellent pillow, and the mask compartment of the satchel was useful for the carrying of anything from socks to loveletters. This casual treatment of the soldier's best friend had anything but good results. Valves became choked with dust and dirt. Eye-pieces were neglected, and a man moving through a gas belt found himself blind and in danger of losing touch. Some, through lack of practice, were very slow in adjusting the mask. Gas experts now came into their own, and from this time forward the rank and file suffered many things at their hands. Adjustment of masks by numbers, route marches with the things on, lectures, demonstrations, tests of various sorts, became an utter abomination, especially after the fiftieth repetition of the same old thing. Still it was all necessary, for
The weather was exceedingly fine, and the few days spent out of the line in Regina and Kortypyp were very pleasant ones. After a big battle it is always a satisfactory thing to realise that one is still alive and in possession of the correct number of limbs. "If that big H.E. had not been a dud!!" Such a lot might have happened, such a lot did happen—to others. A "buckshee" was all very well, a neat little hole through the arm or leg, with a trip to "Blighty" at the end of it; but some frightful smash from a jagged chunk of poisonous shell-case was quite another thing. Many a man feared the shattering bone smash, with its inevitable months or years under the surgeon's knife and its prospect of lifelong crippling, more than death itself. In a short while the men who had come out almost in the last stages of collapse were strong and fit once more, and ready for the next move.
On the morning of June 7th the 3/Auckland Battalion had marched from De Seule to Hill 63. For the next three days they were employed making and repairing roads, and then received orders to take over the sector to the right of Le Bizet. The enemy here had the River Lys behind them and Messines almost directly on their right flank. Their position was quite untenable. Accordingly they withdrew the greater part of their garrison to the other side of the Lys, leaving a few posts to cover the retirement and to hold the trenches until such time as the British should make a serious attempt to occupy them. 3/Auckland received orders to establish posts in the enemy front line, and on the night of the 12/13th parties of the 6th and 16th Companies went over and occupied the trench with little opposition beyond some sniping. Captain Ruddock was mortally wounded, but otherwise casualties were slight. At 2.30 a.m. the enemy shelled his old line, and the 6th, after losing several men, were finally compelled to withdraw. An enemy bombing attack on the Waikatos was driven off. Heavy shelling continued all day. Hauraki patrols made further progress, entering the support line, and then at 8 p.m. the three
The New Zealand Division, withdrawn from the sector of Messines, took over the La Basse-Ville-Warneton one, which stretched away from Hyde Park Corner and Ploegsteert Wood over an almost level expanse of torn field to the outskirts of the two villages which were both occupied by enemy troops. On the 18th, 1/Auckland went into the Prowse Point sector, holding the front line from Douve to La Truie Farm, while the 2/Battalion in support occupied the Catacombs. Forward of Prowse Point the newly-won ground was ill-defined and only very roughly organised. Vigorous patrolling was at once commenced and enemy posts discovered at an average distance of four hundred yards. The second night in, strong patrols went out under cover of a barrage, but were only partially successful. Running diagonally across the New Zealand front was an old railway line. Between this track, the Douve and our posts the enemy were holding strongly. It was decided to raid the whole area, destroy their posts and kill or capture the garrisons. Zero hour was 1 a.m. the morning of the 23rd, and the whole of the 16th Company, with two platoons of the 3rd, were detailed for the task. On the right no opposition was met with, but elsewhere the Huns fought well. In the centre they were holding wired shell-holes, and on the left, in the angle by the creek, a cleverly-concealed pill-box caused a lot of trouble. One German, standing in front and alone, coolly shot down man after man. Such a man might well have turned the tide but for "Jimmy" Greenwood, one of the most desperately brave men in the N.Z.E.F., coming at that moment on the spot. For a second the two faced each other, and then with a shout the New Zealander leaped in, the bayonets crossed, and the brave German fell. Single combats were rare in the war of great guns and magazine rifles, and rarer still was a meeting between two men of so splendid a type. Nine
The whole area in the vicinity of Hyde Park Corner was heavily shelled at all times, and 2/Auckland, doing working parties from the Catacombs, had continually to run the gauntlet. For two hundred yards all round there was an excellent prospect of being blown out any moment by eleven-inch high explosives. Gas shells rained over, falling on the hillside, in the wood and round the entrances to the dug-out. The atmosphere in the long, stuffy galleries reeked with the pungent odour. Working parties picked up their engineer taskmasters at Hyde Park, and then got away from the danger zone with all speed, going along the Messines road to the Douve, or through Ploegsteert Wood to the forward area. The organisation of the newly-gained ground entailed immense labour, digging trenches, putting down duck-boards and "A-frames," revetting, burying cable, making roads. Frequently the Huns picked up the location of the working parties and shelled heavily, sending everybody helter-skelter to the nearest cover. A bombardment was not a bad excuse sometimes to clear away home, and so escape two or three hours digging in the mud, but it was an intolerable nuisance when it stopped traffic during the return journey, with breakfast and bunk only fifteen minutes away.
On the 23rd, 2/Auckland relieved the 1/Battalion. The newly-dug line ahead of the Potteries was the main line of defence. In front of this was a line of posts connected by a shallow trench, and a couple of hundred yards in front of this again was a recently occupied position, from which the garrison, with the exception of a few observers, was withdrawn during the day. A few hundred yards away were the buildings of Warneton, and close up a tangle of hedges and clumps of trees, behind which were the enemy posts. Their observation was fairly good, and in consequence their artillery was very active, firing on any movement. Lieutenant Stewart, with a platoon of the 15th Company, occupied and consolidated
The 1/Battalion went back to De Seule on the 28th, and next day were followed by 2/Auckland, both units going under canvas near De Seule.
Once the battle was actually over the British Higher Command commenced to withdraw great numbers of guns and many squadrons of aeroplanes from this part of the front, leaving the Germans with a gradually increasing predominance both in gun-power and in the air. Night bombing was becoming more and more a regular feature of war. Every night now the Hun airmen were over trying for the billets, stables, dumps and rail-heads. The Aucklanders while under canvas had reason to take a particularly keen interest in the new departure. Back from the Y.M.C.A., from the Pierrot show, from the estaminet or from a walk to Bailleul, miles behind the line, and feeling quite unusually secure, men went to sleep in comfort, taking off boots and clothes. It was a most luxurious feeling to realise that the whole night long was for uninterrupted slumber. Lights out, and the only sounds to be heard were a few whispers, coughs, the snores of the musically-minded, and the muffled report of a distant gun. There is a drumming in the upper air—gradually coming nearer, and then the unmistakable beat of a Hun engine. A sleeper awakes, "Hallo, boys, there's a blanky Fritz overhead!"
"Shut up, and go to sleep, you windy beggar!" "Cr-r-r-r-ash-sh," somewhere a mile off. The whole tent is awake now, and speculating.
"The blankety-blank something has dropped an egg!" "Cr-r-r-r-ash-sh," this time only half a mile away, and in a direct line. "The b b's coming nearer; where are my boots?" and a nervy individual makes a bolt outside. Nothing is to be gained by so doing, for he is as likely to run into the danger he is seeking to avoid as to escape it. Now the searchlights are flashing across the sky, and the anti-aircraft guns barking furiously. The converging beams fail to pick the raider up, and the crashes grow nearer. Many find the
"C-r-ash. C-r-r-ash. C-r-r-r-ash-sh," behind, level, and then a big sigh of relief, for the last explosion is clear of the camp and the danger has passed. Perhaps no great material harm has been done, but, nevertheless, it is just this kind of thing that in the long run breaks men's nerves and renders them entirely useless for the moral strain of modern war. The Germans placed much faith in the "loud noise theory," and, undoubtedly, they were very largely right. Frightful, crashing detonations have a most demoralising effect on all except troops of the highest order.
On 30th June the 1st Brigade moved back to the training area, 1/Auckland to Bleu and 2/Auckland to Steentge, for a fortnight's rest and training. The weather was delightful, the billets good, and training easy. As a general rule the afternoons were given up to recreation. Division held athletic and swimming sports and a gymkhana, while a good deal of cricket was played between company teams. One team from 2/Auckland had the immense satisfaction of beating the redoubtable 3/Field Ambulance Eleven. To commence with, the Red Cross people regarded the Infantry in the same light that a crack town team regards an eleven from the backblocks. They were speedily undeceived, and as their wickets crashed one after the other they realised that their opponents could throw other things besides bombs.
Bailleul was quite close, and scores of men walked in during the long evenings to visit the shops, estaminets and restaurants of the quaint old town, and to inspect the trophies of battle which had been collected in the square. Many had pilgrimages to make to the graves of comrades, who, dying of wounds received in the fight, had been buried in the military cemetery on the outskirts of the town. Here General Brown was buried and many another good comrade.
On July 19th the Brigade went back into the line, 1/Auckland going in to the Prowse Point sub-sector, while 2/Auckland moved first to Kortypyp Camp and then to the Catacombs. Shelling was heavy and continuous, and the Huns were making a most liberal use of poison gas. Ploegsteert Wood was literally drenched with the stuff. Hyde Park Corner was commencing to look as brown and torn as parts of the battlefield. On the 30th, 2/Auckland relieved the 1/Battalion, who went back to Hill 63, with Headquarters at Red Lodge.
The Third Battle of Ypres—the bloodiest, most terrible fight of the war—commenced on the 31st July, when the British and French attacked from Dixmude to La Basse Ville. The New Zealand Division, on the extreme flank, had the task of storming the latter village and of advancing its line in conformity with the forward thrust of the Army. 2/Wellington and 1st and 2/Auckland were detailed for the purpose. Wellington had La Basse Ville itself as their objective, while the Aucklanders on their left were to push forward and establish a new outpost line.
For three weeks Captain Coates had been training the 1/15th Company in readiness for an offensive operation against the enemy position in the Warneton sector. They arrived in the line during the night of the 29/30th, and were in readiness to carry out their raid, when, with little warning, the German barrage came down. It was heavy and destructive. The men lying round in the shell-holes and shallow trenches suffered severely. After some hours of heavy shelling, the German infantry came on the heels of their barrage, and, penetrating the gap between two of the outposts, got right in amongst the 15th. There was a confused and very bloody fight in the darkness. The North Aucklanders, maddened by their losses, and glad of the opportunity to get amongst the enemy, fought savagely. There was little opportunity for direction or cooperation. Every man fought as best he could. Revolver, bayonet and bomb were busy. Very few of the Germans returned to their own line. Almost the whole of their party were
At daybreak Sergeant Cusack, in charge of one party of the 6th Company, discovered that somehow or another a party of twenty-two Huns had been missed by the assaulting troops and were still holding their position a few yards only from his own post. Sergeant Cusack, although he had only ten men with him, attacked and killed the whole of the enemy party, with the exception of one man taken prisoner, captured a machine-gun, and then transferred the enemy wire to the front of his own post. The whole operation had been quite successful. Wellington had taken La Basse Ville, and the new line was everywhere established.
Conditions for the forward troops were miserable in the extreme. Heavy shell fire caused numerous casualties. Rain turned the whole battlefield into a quagmire. The posts filled with water and mud. Men were wet, chilled to the bone, and unable to rest or sleep. Even when parties carried hot food up through smashed trenches where the duck-boards were swimming on top of three feet of water or sunk out of sight under a like depth of mud, the food was wasted because "dixies" were lost in the slime or so coated with filth as to render them utterly useless. A man stood in a narrow ditch
2/Auckland were relieved, and with the 1/Battalion, went back to Canteen Corner, where they remained until August 17th, re-equipping and doing working parties. Enemy aeroplanes were extremely active, and bombed stables and billets with great regularity. About this time the Germans brought into action a long-range, high-velocity naval gun, firing heavy armour-piercing shells. They used this weapon for the purpose of shelling back areas. Prospective victims were certainly not held long in suspense as the first report of the discharge and the arrival of the shell seemed almost simultaneous. On the other hand, there was little opportunity of carrying out that manoeuvre so popular with all ranks of "ducking for cover."
On August 17th the two battalions moved from Canteen Corner, 1/Auckland to the hutment camp at Romarin and 2/Auckland to the line in front of La Basse Ville. The new
From July 1st to 7th, 3/Auckland were at Brune Gaye, supplying working parties for the front line, and then took over the Le Toquet sector, facing Frelinghien. Much work was put in on Long Avenue, despite heavy enemy artillery fire. Patrol work was carried out, and on one occasion a sharp
By this time the Division was heartily sick of the whole area from De Seule and Canteen Corner to Messines, Warneton. La Basse Ville and Ploegsteert. There had been one tremendous day of moving excitement, and then months of hard work and miserable conditions, heavy shelling, gassing, bombing, and a continual heavy drain of killed and wounded. Orders for the Divisional relief were eagerly looked forward to. and when at last they actually came there was much joy expressed by all. On the 25th the 1st and 2/Auckland Battalions proceeded by motor-lorry to the Csestre area, from whence they entrained four days later for Wizernes. 3/Auckland entrained at Steenwerck on September 2nd, and proceeded by train and motor-lorry to Le Waast.
There's a little hill in Flanders
Heaped with a thousand slain;
Where the shells fall night and noonday,
And the ghosts that died in vain.
A little hill,
A hard hill,
To the souls that died in pain."
At Wizemes the Battalions detrained and found the Y.M.C.A. in readiness with a cup of cocoa and a packet of biscuits for each man. Thus refreshed, the men clambered on the waiting motor-lorries and rattled off through the moonlight past Setques and Esquerades, along the St. Omer-Boulogne highroad to the villages of the Lumbres area. 1/Auckland billetted in Quesques, a charming little village nestling at the foot of high hills. 2/Auckland occupied the two small hamlets of Fromentelles and Harlettes, which, although somewhat deficient in estaminets for those of a bibulous habit, were yet pleasant places enough. 3/Auckland, some kilometres along the road toward Boulogne, were perhaps the most fortunate of all. Their village of Le Waast was not only of considerable size, but was sufficiently close to Boulogne to make an occasional trip to that interesting town quite a possible thing.
Training was commenced at once, and was of a most practical nature. Great stress was laid upon platoon and section tactics, and on the "taking of pill-boxes." Wood-fighting and the counter-attack also received a considerable amount of attention.
For some time there had been a strong rumour to the effect that the Main Body and the first three reinforcements were to be given an extended furlough, for the purpose of visiting New Zealand. At last it seemed that the rumour was about to materialise. Applications were invited, and many of the
The Y.M.C.A. had gradually become one of the main features of the Division. In Armentieres it was represented by one man—
During the period of training in the Lumbres area the New Zealand Division had the honour of being reviewed by
Training finished, and on September 25th the 1st Brigade marched from Lumbres to Renuscure, and then by Wallon Capel and Wardrecques to the Watou area, where the Battalions billetted for two days.
On October 1st the three Auckland Battalions marched along the crowded highroad from Poperinghe to Vlamertinghe, and so into and through the town of Ypres. Once again there was the thrill of expectation. The broken tower of the ruined Cloth Hall had its appeal, even to the most unimaginative. In its glory of desolation and ruin it typified the splendid valour and steadfastness that had saved Europe. It stood foursquare, battered, but still standing—the wall against which the Old Army had set its back and fought to the death. Now it pointed to the skies and spoke of victory. Ypres was no longer the gate bolted and barred against the invader; it was a wide open way through which poured the rising tide of triumph.
Ypres! The very name is a trumpet call to the man of British race. What heroism was there; what steadfast enduring; what faithfulness unto death; what a terror, and horror, and tragedy of defeat, and yet what a glory, and splendour of victory rising crowned from the ashes of despair. Ypres! What a link this name will be between nation and nation in the great Federation of British peoples. Here died the Old Army, and in dying saved the Allied Cause. Here lie the dead of Canada, Australia, South Africa, New Zealand, and intermingled with them everywhere the men of the New Armies. For ever this will be sacred soil.
Ridge after ridge the wilderness stretched back from St. Julien and Pilkem to Polderhoek and Passchendaele, and from Messines on the one side to the Forest of Houlthurst on the other.
All the beautiful woods were dead, horribly dead. There was no green grass or pleasant herb. The villages were heaps of rubble. The streams that once made glad the smiling valleys were horrible bogs. Over all the wide area no bird sang. For mile after mile shell-hole touched shell-hole, with here and there a great, gaping crater torn by a mine explosion. As far as the eye could see was a wide expanse of dull and dreary brown.
One could hardly follow the line of the old German trenches, so ploughed and torn was all the earth. Line after line their pill-boxes crowned every height, swept every slope, enfiladed every approach. Solidly and with much labour were they built, but frightful was the storm which had burst upon them, rending and smashing the stoutest walls of iron and concrete. Most of them were charnel-houses, from which the garrisons, bombed, or crushed by the falling ruins, had never emerged.
The debris of the battlefield was everywhere; tangled heaps of rusty wire, broken rifles, smashed field guns, rotting pieces of equipment, filthy and torn clothing, empty shell-cases, old tins, riven helmets and all the ruined litter that makes still more hideous the ugly desolation of an old battlefield.
Here and there along some corduroy track leading through the morass is the Via Dolorosa of the horse and the mule. One sees an upturned waggon, then one wheelless, and after that the poor brown carcases, sometimes singly, sometimes in twos and threes, covered with a little earth, quicklime, or altogether uncovered. The tanks look in a pitiful fashion like some huge, terrible uncouth monsters of a prehistoric age, that have had the life blown out of them, or that have been choked in a frightful struggle to flounder through the quaking slough.
Everywhere there is desolation, destruction, and the visible signs of death and decay. On one side of the wilderness are
Ypres.Gravenstafel—Abraham Heights.
The battlefield of Ypres! It is a dreadful place, hideously bare of all comfort, with no beautiful, or decent, or pleasant thing anywhere to be seen. It is a field of agony and death. No place on earth has been so desecrated by slaughter, no place, save Calvary, so consecrated by sacrifice.
The succession of low hills stretching back from the town to Passchendaele formed the buttress of the German line in the north. If these were taken the flank of the enemy would be turned, and he would assuredly be driven from the Flanders coast, thus losing the submarine bases of Ostend and Zeebrugge. The matter was urgent. Submarine sinkings were rapidly on the increase. Unless the loss of tonnage was reduced it became increasingly obvious that Germany would win the war. Time was fighting for the enemy. Russia was beaten to the ground, and in a few weeks or months hundreds of thousands of Germans would be transferred to the Western Front. At any price a decision must be quickly reached. So the British Army attacked with all the force it could muster. Once more, as at the Somme, it was a shock battle. During August and September blow after blow had been struck, and ever the final objective was brought nearer. Two things saved the German Army—first the bad weather, and second the "Pill-box System." There were literally thousands of these concrete forts, which as long as any considerable number of them remained intact, rendered a position impregnable to infantry attack. Before every advance these forts had practically to be blasted to pieces. For this an enormous
Another great battle was at hand, and for the first time since the fight for Sari Bair practically the whole of the Australians and New Zealanders were fighting together. Much had happened since the Peninsula days. In the intervening time New Zealand had become once and for all a nation. No longer was the New Zealander English, Irish, or Scotch. No longer was he even an Australasian. He was a New Zealander, proud of his nationality and passionately proud of the deeds which had given his people a place amongst the free nations of the world. So Australia and New Zealand took their places in the line. The two nations were equally proud of their record; both were resolute, both high-hearted. They claimed, and with reason, that no troops, allied or enemy, could be found to match them. Both were resolved not to be outdone by the other. Rivals in fame, they trusted each other implicitly and trusted fully no other race on earth.
On October 1st, 1/Auckland billetted in the Ypres north area.
The Company Commanders were:—
- 3rd Auckland: Captain Coates, M.C.
- 6th Hauraki: Captain Holland, M.C.
- 15th North Auckland: Major Marian.
- 16th Waikato: Captain Parry.
Dr. Nelson and Padre Gavin were still with the Battalion. The fighting strength was 20 officers and 660 O.R.'s
2/Auckland bivouacked in the old British line. Lieutenant Porrit was temporarily acting as adjutant. The Company Commanders were:—
- 3rd Auckland: Captain Taylor.
- 6th Hauraki: Captain Thomas.
- 15th North Auckland: Major McClelland.
- 16th Waikato: Captain Hubbard.
Dr. Addison had been transferred to the Field Ambulance, and his place was taken by Dr. Lee. The Rev. Dobson was chaplain. It is worth mentioning that Lieutenant Tuck acted through the battle as transport officer, the only occasion on which this officer served as a non-combatant. Both he and Lieutenant Stewart were extremely desirous of commanding their respective platoons in the forthcoming action, but after repeated applications were forbidden to do so. Under the circumstances, the best that could be done was for the one to take the Battalion transport, while the other solaced himself with a Brigade carrying party. The strength was 20 officers and 660 O.R.'s.
3/Auckland, also in the old front line area, had a strength of 20 officers and 660 O.R.'s. They were commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Blair, D.S.O., M.C., with Lieutenant C. Nicholls as adjutant. The companies were commanded by:—
- 3rd Auckland: Lieutenant H. A. E. Milnes.
- 6th Hauraki: Captain Dittmer.
- 15th North Auckland: Captain Evans.
- 16th Waikato: Captain Gillett.
- The chaplain was the Rev. Steele Craik.
Throughout the night and the following day there was desultory shelling, which caused a few casualties, and then on
Two attacks were planned for the New Zealand Division. The first, which was to be undertaken by the 1st and 4th Brigades had the Graven stafel-Ab rah am Heights section of the Broodseinde Ridge as its objective. Success in this operation would clear the way for the final assault on the Belle Vue Spur and Passchendaele, which was to be undertaken in part by the 2nd and 3rd Brigades. For the Gravenstafel action the Division was attacking on a four battalion front, and had orders to penetrate the enemy defence for a distance of about 1700 yards. Crossing the Hannebeek Stream, 1/Auckland, 1/Wellington, 3/Otago and 3/Auckland were to take the enemy system of trenches, pill-boxes and strong points as far as the "Red Line," which ran approximately along the crest of the ridge. 2/Wellington, 2/Auckland, 3/Otago and 3/Canterbury were then to "leapfrog" the leading battalions and go forward to the "Blue Line" at the foot of the Belle Vue Spur. On the right flank of the New Zealanders were the Australian Divisions, and on the left British troops.
Throughout the whole of August the German losses had been very serious, and they were now threatened right at the heart. For several days they had been counter-attacking, but had met with little success. Heavy reinforcements arriving, they had prepared a very great attack for the morning of October 4th. Intelligence of this had reached the British Higher Command some time before, giving them the opportunity to anticipate the enemy move.
On the night of October 3rd/4th the battalions of the second wave moved up to their battle-stations, 2/Auckland occupying the shell-hole area of the Canvas-Capricorn system. During the night the weather broke, and a fine drizzling rain commenced to fall. Men huddled together in the shell-holes, without overcoats, shivering under their oilsheets. The enemy artillery fire became very intense, and remained so during the early hours of the morning. Before daybreak all were standing-to in readiness for the barrage to open. At this hour
1/Auckland, occupying the ground round Cluster-Houses, were lying very close to the enemy strong points at Winzig and Aviatik Farm, from whence came a considerable volume of machine-gun fire, which caused many casualties throughout the night.
Zero hour was at 6 a.m.—ten minutes before the time fixed by the enemy for their counter-attack, and about a quarter of an hour before dawn. Suddenly the sky was red with leaping flame, and the air was full of the rushing of innumerable shells. The long roll of the drumfire beat out into the morning air, while the sharp rattle of the thousands of machine-guns pierced the duller roar of the cannon.
Between the jumping-off point and the first objectives was the bed of the little brook of Hannebeek. The constant heavy shell fire had turned the running stream into a wide bog, which could be traversed only in certain places by winding paths, along which men could pass very slowly and in single file. Crossing this swamp was a terrible strain, as progress was so very slow. The German shell fire was playing with remarkable accuracy on the narrow tracks. Only the softness of the ground, in which the shells failed to explode or were smothered, saved the attacking troops from very severe losses. Immediately on the other side of the swamp resistance was met with, and then all up the hillside groups of the enemy were found. Some were demoralised and surrendered at once. Others fought desperately. The leading companies of 1/Auckland, the 15th and 16th, had a bitter fight for Winzig. The garrison of this
Immediately in front of 3/Auckland was the large pill-box known as Otto Farm. This was rushed without difficulty. Fifteen prisoners and four machine-guns were captured. Here
On the summit of the Gravenstafel Ridge was the strong redoubt of Korek, which was resolutely defended. The machine-gunners, in their concrete shelters, manned their guns, riflemen in shell-holes stood to their weapons. The swing over of 1/Auckland caused a corresponding swing in the direction of 1/Wellington, with the result that certain of these enemy groups, once the barrage had passed over them, were left unmolested until the leading sections of 2/Auckland advanced to go through to the final objective. As the Aucklanders neared Korek they found the conflict still raging fiercely, and were themselves soon fighting.
A section moving forward in file suddenly commenced to lose men from rifle fire. One man lurches forward into a shell-hole, another falls with a cry, clutching at the breast of his tunic, another stumbles to one side and gazes stupidly at a spreading red stain. The remainder take cover. Fifty yards ahead are a file of Huns—their helmets scarcely discernible against the brown background. Rifle fire is opened at once. but it is amazing how many shots miss the mark, even at such an absurdly short range. The morning mist, the battlesmoke, the excitement all have a part in this. One or two of
When fear enters into a man, body, mind and soul, the result is a condition of abject terror distressing to behold. Many of the Germans had been demoralised by the barrage. In the faint dawn light they had seen the waves of assault sweeping forward, overwhelming machine-gun post and strong point. Isolated and almost alone they felt helpless, hopeless and lost. The wave was surging up toward them. They fired a few shots with fingers that trembled on the triggers and hands that shook. Perhaps a couple of hundred yards away a man dropped here and there, but there was no slackening in the steady push forward of the attacking host. Nothing seemed able to stem the resistless tide. No supports were coming from behind. There was still time to run, but in the path to safety thundered the British barrage. Knees weaken and they cannot run, fear becomes terror, and terror panic, and the panic a madness. Men wrap oilsheets round their heads and cower down dumbly expectant of death—they are no longer men but driven cattle. Some are shot, some are bayoneted, some dragged out and half-kindly, half-contemptuously sent back to the rear without escort.
All night the attackers had lain miserably in the drizzling rain, heavily shelled, cold and sleepless. Vitality went low. As the barrage opened they moved forward. At once there was a transformation, a glow of feeling as the immensity of
2/Auckland and 2/Wellington went over the crest and advanced to the Blue Line. Calgary Grange, at the foot of the hill, was taken by a Wellington sergeant and an Auckland corporal, who went through the barrage and bombed the pillbox from the rear, taking a machine-gun and a number of prisoners. One of the stiffest fights of the day was that of the 15th Company for a strongly-held trench at the foot of the hill, and right on the Blue Line. They had nearly five hundred yards of shell-hole country to cross under rifle fire. Many men had become scattered in the small combats here and there, and when a hundred yards from the Hun line the
Colonel Allen—"Old Steve" nowadays—was not much given to waiting at headquarters for reports to come in. Like a wise commander, he knew perfectly well that nothing can replace personal observation and direction. So with a single runner he went forward to the most advanced part of the line. Here he was blown up by the burst of one of our own shells. "Got him at last, have they?" was the general remark, as his stretcher was carried back. Fortunately for the Battalion, he was not hit until the success of the operation had been assured.
The battle was won. It had been a clean sweeping success, and the enemy were for the time being utterly broken, so much so that if fresh troops had been immediately pushed to the front they would probably have had little difficulty in taking Belle Vue Spur. As it was, consolidation was commenced and the position made secure. The enemy artillery were active, but they were unable to concentrate men for an effective counter-attack. Next day there was more heavy shelling, and the men suffered considerable discomfort in the newly dug and muddy trenches. During the night of the 5/6th the Battalions were relieved and went back, 1/Auckland to Salvation Corner and the 2nd and 3rd Battalions to Goldfish Chateau.
Considering the magnitude of the success, the losses had not been heavy. They were:—
1/Auckland: Killed, 7 officers, 52 O.R.'s; wounded, 4 officers, 185 O.R.'s; missing, 29 O.R.'s. Total, 273.
2/Auckland: Killed, 2 officers, 39 O.R.'s; wounded. 14 officers, 165 O.R.'s; missing, 40 O.R.'s. Total, 260
3/Auckland: Killed, 4 officers, 33 O.R.'s; wounded, 5 officers, 124 O.R.'s; missing, 6 O.R.'s. Total 178.
Padre Gavin once more earned great praise for his devoted work. The purity and earnestness of this quiet, selfless man had won for him a high place in the hearts of all. He buried the dead, British and German, in the same grave, often dug with his own hands. No matter how heavy the shelling he stood by the graveside with bared head and repeated his service, omitting nothing and hastening nothing, but reciting the words of hope with a reverence and feeling that touched even the roughest men. They stood beside him, their heads also bared, while the shrapnel burst near by and the splinters whizzed through the air. If one asks those men to-day about Padre Gavin they will probably first declare with oaths that they themselves are not religious, but—this with a certain enthusiasm—that religion of the type of the padre's they reverence. The battlefield is a hard, cruel and terrible place, and on it the finest traits of character are often crushed and soiled, but the battlefield, no less than the cloister, has its saints, and the perfect 8owers of faith grow sometimes in their utmost beauty on the fields red with blood.
The next few days passed quietly enough for the 1st and 4th Brigades in the reserve area. The Battalions rested, reorganised, and did a certain amount of work, while the 2nd and 3rd Brigades held the line in readiness for the final assault on Passchendaele. Preparations were hurried on for the attack. The weather broke, rain fell, and in a few hours the battlefield was a morass. It was almost impossible to get guns forward. By almost superhuman effort field pieces were got sufficiently close, but it was out of the question to move forward the heavies. The artillery had not cut the wire and had not smashed the pill-box system of Belle Vue Spur. They could not promise a barrage. Nevertheless, the Higher Command insisted that the attack should go forward on October 12th. It was a pure gamble on whether the Germans would
Once more in the cold dawn the guns opened, but this time the thunder roll was absent. At the first discharge many of them slipped from the small patch of firm ground on which they had been placed and stuck fast in the mud. Few batteries had half their guns working at any one time. Poor as the barrage was the infantry could not keep with it. They had six hundred yards of bog to cross before they reached the slope and their first objective. This bog was a mass of shellholes, with craters six, eight and twelve feet deep. These craters were full of water. The advancing men floundered along the edges knee-deep, sometimes waist-deep, in mud. German machine-gunners, secure in their undamaged works, looked out, and seeing the opportunity, took heart of grace. They swung their guns with terrible effect on to the struggling men in the black slough. Men slipped, fell and were drowned in the brimming craters, dragged down by the weight of their equipment. Machine-gun bullets claimed their victims by scores and hundreds, yet the stubborn battalions pressed on over the swamp until the survivors were held up by the uncut wire. This could not be passed, and all the while the death hail rained upon them from the pill-boxes. With desperate valour men worked forward into the wire, and tried to cut a way through for their comrades. They were shot down. The Huns kept their nerve, and the result was the inevitable massacre. For the first time New Zealand Brigades had completely failed, and their defeat had cost them as tragic a price as the barren victory on the blood-stained slopes of Sari Bair.
As soon as possible the shattered battalions were relieved. On October 16th, 1/Auckland relieved 2/Otago in the support position, and 2/ Auckland moved up in reserve. 3/Auckland had already, on the night of the 14/15th, relieved the two forward battalions of the Rifle Brigade. Three days later the 1/Battalion took over the left sector with Battalion
Training, reorganisation and re-equipping were immediately proceeded with. The weather was damp, drizzling, and not at all pleasant. Winter was definitely setting in, and the season for great battles closed down.
On 11th November 3/Auckland marched to Esquerdes. and from there to Wizernes, from where they went by train to Poperinghe. After staying a night in Forrester Camp, and another in the Railway Dug-outs, Zillebeeke, they went into the line in the Nordenhoek sector beyond Polygon Wood on the 14th. The 1/Brigade detrained at Hopoutre on the 15th and proceeded to Mic-mac Camp. The Divisional area stretched back over miles of the dreadful battlefield, from the Polderhoek Chateau to the ruined town of Ypres and the village of Dickebusch. An ugly dreariness was the prevailing feature. The outlook was sordid and revolting. Skies were grey, and the damp mists hung low. Everywhere was a sea of mud. The whole atmosphere was dispiriting and distressing. Men lived in comfortless iron huts, in old gun-pits rotting with age, grimed with smoke and swarming with rats, and, further up toward the line, in the captured German pill-boxes. Few of these had escaped altogether. Even where the walls and roof were secure the foundations had been cracked, and the water was rising. Often beneath the floorboards were horrors unmentionable, and the stench rising was sickening. Yet these fearful dungeons where the German machine-gunners had fought, died, and after that been buried were the only shelters in the wide muck of desolation. Men lived in them, and so utter was their need that these horrible places were looked upon as homes.
There is a limit to human endurance, and during the winter of 1917-1918 this limit was very nearly reached. At no other time was the morale of the British Army so low. At
3/Auckland, in the line, found that a very great deal of work was required to make it secure and comfortable. They proceeded with this task. On the 21st one of their patrols was broken up by machine-gun fire at close range. Private Campbell earned distinction by carrying a wounded man three hundred yards to safety, although he himself had been hurt. The following evening the Battalion was relieved and went back to Railway Dug-outs and Half-way House, where they remained until December 1st, doing working parties. Proceeding to Howe and then to Walker Camp, they continued to supply working parties until the 14th, when they again went into the line in the Nordenhoek sub-sector. Two days later came the first fall of snow, and with it the frost. For the next two months the battlefield was frost-bound. The shell-holes had six inches of ice on top, and the landscape was white as the flakes came drifting down. The British artillery fire was still intense, and the enemy suffered considerably. One day two of them surrendered themselves, and the following day one more came in. On the 22nd the Battalion was relieved, and went into support at Half-way House and Railway Dugouts, doing working parties.
From here Lieutenant-Colonel Blair, D.S.O., M.C., left for England, and his place was taken by Lieutenant-Colonel A. G. McKenzie, D.S.O., and the Battalion, after a week in support, once more moved up to the front line. Here Lieutenant Lorie, a very able, energetic and brave officer, was killed. On January 2nd the Battalion once more moved back to the support area and then to Dickebusch, from where they entrained each morning and went up by the light railway to tasks at various points in the Corps Area.
The greater part of the sector consisted of land won during the heavy fighting of the previous months. As there was a practical certainty that, with the coming of spring, the heavilyreinforced German armies would take the offensive, very great labour was expended on the organisation of the battlefield and
A few days after their arrival in the area 1st and 2/Auckland detached 600 men each for working parties. These men took up their quarters near Belgian Chateau in old gun-pits, tents, huts and dug-outs, while the remainder went back with the Battalion Headquarters to Hoograaf, where schools were established for the purpose of giving refresher courses in all specialist departments of infantry work. "Working parties" and "schools" were the main features of the winter.
An hour before dawn the Company Sergeant-Major would be up and stirring the working party for the day out of bunk. No easy job this, for the old gun-pits were snug and warm, and outside was very cold and bleak. Human nature always has a tendency to turn over on the other side, despite sergeantmajors. At length, by threats, persuasion and cajolery, but mainly through the smell of bacon and beans, the toilers were mustered in time. Clothed in leather coats, with hands muffled up in big gloves, they stamped up and down on the duckboards until the light railway train came puffing and rattling along. "All aboard," and so away past Ypres, Birr Cross Roads, and right out on to the battlefield itself. A tramp of two or three kilometres along a corduroy road and duckboard brought the party to the task which might perhaps be the wiring of a little wood. No one is ever in the least enthusiastic over a working party, unless sometimes a very new and conscientious officer. The rank and file looked upon working Daily Mail has come up with the rations. It is read eagerly and believed—with reservations. One or two are not ashamed to be seen reading the little pocket Testament—the last gift of some proud, sorrowful, loving mother. One man is openly reading the Labour Leader or George Lansbury's Herald. In the Ypres salient it is refreshing to know that ideals have not utterly perished from the earth—the Daily Mail notwithstanding. Novels are in great demand, and it is a poor author who cannot get a reading. A couple are wrestling with a pocket set of chess, many are playing cards, some are writing letters, while the remainder sit around the brazier and talk of many things. Some time during the evening an N.C.O. comes in with "orders" for the next day—and the rum issue. The "orders" are listened to with attention, containing as they do the names of the working parties for the next day, while the rum is received with joy and drunk with eagerness. There is nothing now to wait up for. The brazier is smoking abominably, and everyone's eyes are full of smoke. Outside it is freezing hard, and if for more than a moment or two the crazy doors are opened the cold night air rushes in. and
All not employed on working parties were despatched to schools, either the Battalion schools at Hoograaf or the Brigade N.C.O. school at Berthen, close to the Mont des Cats. The 1/Brigade school was commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Alderman, C.M.G., and was conducted with great efficiency. It provided a refresher course in all departments of infantry work, bombing, musketry, Lewis gun, bayonet fighting, wiring, gas, map reading, platoon and section tactics, drill and recreational training. Expert officers and N.C.O.'s were in charge of all branches of the work. R.S.M. "Bill" Bates, of 1/Auckland, the chief drill instructor, soon became one of the celebrities of the school. Without doubt, he was the most amazing drill instructor the Regiment ever had. He could abuse you horribly and profanely without causing the least feeling of bitterness. His sense of humour was exceptionally keen, but those who were the most frequent targets for his satire often liked him the most. Sergeant-Major Taylor, of the Imperial Forces, was attached for physical training and bayonet fighting. "Round-me-nip" was a rather brilliant graduate of London University, and a geologist of some standing, who, owing to the loss of one eye, was refused as unfit for actual fighting service. Having always taken a keen interest in physical culture, he had been drafted into this department, and attached to the 1/N.Z.I.B. He was an exceptionally efficient instructor, and rapidly became very popular. The snow lay thickly on the hard ground, and the man who kept his men moving was held in the highest esteem. Six hours a day, with an occasional lecture in the evening by the C.O., and Saturday half-holiday was the routine of work. There are all sorts of soldiers. Some of the best fighting men are also
Christmas Day passed happily enough. A general holiday was declared for all those on working parties and at schools. There was plenty to eat and drink, Christmas mail, and any quantity of "buckshee" parcels sent by the Women's Patriotic Society were eagerly and gratefully received.
On January 18th, 1st and 2/Auckland concentrated as full battalions at Dickebusch Huts and Hussar Camp, preparatory to going into the line. The 4/Brigade, relieved by the 1st, went out into Corps Reserve and carried out a similar programme of work and instruction to that just completed by the 1/Brigade, Captain Dittmer taking command of the school which was formed at Ottawa Camp.
On the night of January 2Oth/2Ist, 2/Auckland went by train to Birr Cross Roads, and from there along the duckboard track to the Cameron Covert-Polygon Veld sector, immediately in front of the famous Polderhoek Chateau, against which many assaults had broken down, including one carried
February 14th, 1/Auckland were relieved, and came hack to Walker Camp, from where on the 23rd they moved to Halifax Camp. 2/Auckland had for some days been billeted in West Farm Camp, near Birr Cross Roads, and both battalions now supplied large working parties for tasks on and about the Corps Line. While here, Colonel "Steve" Allen returned from England, and once more took over command of his battalion. He was very lame as a result of the wound received at Gravenstafel, but by dint of much persistent effort had secured the reluctant consent of the authorities to return to France. The Battalion was as glad to see him back as he was to be once more with them, particularly as heavy fighting was expected to break out almost any day.
That the enemy would take the offensive was a foregone conclusion; the only question was as to just when and where he would attack in real force. There was a distinct threat against the Ypres salient, and the British artillery was continually active. On at least two occasions the full barrage was thrown out, and once a considerable enemy attack was actually launched on the Reutel sector.
Some time before this, on February 8th, the 4/Brigade was formally disbanded. Many of the officers and men were immediately drafted into other units, while from the remainder the Auckland, Wellington, Canterbury and Otago Working Battalions were formed. Later on these working battalions became the 1st, 2nd and 3rd Entrenching Battalions, under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel Mitchell, D.S.O. They served as reinforcement depots for the Division, and at the same time were able to do a very great deal of work on reserve positions some distance behind the line.
On March 10th the New Zealand Division moved by train and motor-lorry to the villages round about Cassel, for what was intended to be a month's training. 1/Auckland billeted at Staple, while the 2nd were in the village of Zuytpeene. Billets were good. The spring weather was splendidly fine, and the blue skies, the sunshine and the green fields were such a contrast to the hideous desolation of the Ypres battlefield that men could not but help feeling joy at the change. The French folk were very kind, and after the months in Belgium it was a pleasure to be amongst them again. Training was carried out during the mornings, and the afternoons were devoted to games. Great efforts were made to smarten the men up. Equipment was scrubbed, brass polished, bayonets rubbed with emery paper until they shone and sparkled in the sun. while barrack-square and guard-mounting drill formed a not inconsiderable part of the training programme. By the time General Russell inspected the battalions a wonderful transformation had been wrought. This was important, but not so important as the marked improvement in morale that accompanied it. The Brigade football competition held at this time
On the 21st March, 1st and 2/Auckland marched from their billets to Moule, some distance the other side of St. Omer, for the purpose of carrying out musketry practice on the range which had been constructed there. The day was hot and dusty, and the pave roads very hard on the feet. Two very tired and footsore battalions arrived late in the afternoon at the new billets. Orders were at once issued for the shooting to take place the following morning. There had been rumours during the day of a great enemy attack opening on the Somme, Rumour ran that it had been repulsed with heavy loss to the attackers, who had been mown down by the machine-gun fire. Late in the evening came news of disaster. The 5/Army had broken before the tremendous onrush of the massed German armies, backed as they were by an immense power of artillery. The British line on the Somme was broken and the grey tide, sweeping on over the old battlefield, was surging on toward Amiens to cut the railway communications, isolate the Channel ports and destroy the British Army. The orders already issued were cancelled, and the men warned to be ready for an early start back to the Cassel area—there to join the remainder of the Division, ready for the next move.
"Ils ne passeront pas!"
During the next two days, news of the real magnitude of the disaster commenced to come through. Orders for the Division to entrain for the Somme were received.
1/Auckland, who were at full strength, were commanded by
- 3rd Company: Captain Coates, M.C.
- 6th Company: Captain Alexander.
- 15th Company: Captain Holland, M.C.
- 16th Company: Captain H. R, Vercoe.
Dr. Ardagh was still with the Battalion, while the Rev. Grigg had taken the place of Padre Gavin.
2/Auckland, who were also at full strength, were commanded by
- 3rd Company: Captain Paterson.
- 6th Company. Captain Moncrief.
- 15th Company: Captain McArthur.
- 16th Company: Captain McFarland.
The 63 days, and was very well known to all. Dr. Harpur, the R.M.O., on the other hand, had only recently joined up.
On the evening of Sunday, March 24th, the Battalions entrained at Cassel station. The villagers turned out to see the last of their guests, who were in a distinctly hilarious mood, as the result of Saturday having been pay-day.
"Bon soir, mademoiselle, you promenade with me?"
"After de prochaine guerre, per-r-r-aps!"
"Hello, Marie! How's the beer standing?"
"Allons gourmand! You have drink all de biere—no more left for nex soldat."
"Ah! Madeleine! You embrassez-moi for bonne chance?"
"Brigand! You kiss beaucoup mademoiselles—me write your fiancee—tell her you no good!"
"You plenty zig-zag—too much vin-blanc!"
And under all the merry badinage ran a deeper tone, for after all this was a supreme hour in the agony of France. Who knew what might befall if these men failed to stay the onward rush to Amiens? They were not Frenchmen, but they were the friends of France, and in a few hours they would step into the breach and hold for the sake of France.
"Dieu vous aide, messieurs! Dieu vous garde! Vous combattez pour nous! St. Jeanne d'Arc vous aide."
All night the trains were running down toward the Somme, St. Omer, Etaples and Abbeville, until midway through the morning they reached Hangest-sur-Somme, where the battalions detrained at the little station familiar enough to the men of 1916. A battalion as it arrived dumped its heavier stores and set out at once on foot, or by motor-lorry, for the divisional concentration point, which was somewhere in the general direction of Pont Noyelles. 1/Auckland were fortunate, and caught the motor-lorries, which conveyed them to some distance the other side of Amiens. 2/Auckland set out to march. The day was clear and fine, with a cool breeze blowing, and rapid progress was made. For the first few kilometres the road was unfamiliar, but then, at the foot of a slope, was an estaminet known to not a few, and in half-anhour's time the companies were taking a brief spell in the market square of Picquigny. Once through the town and marching along the high road toward Amiens, refugees were met with in increasing numbers. Some of them had waggons piled high with their household stuff, some only the clothes they stood up in. All were weary and worn, and many of them very hopeless. Behind them were the little homes they loved so much, and they were moving, where they knew not, hoping only that they might escape the Bosche. The sight of
The Battalions bivouacked, 1/Auckland at Dernancourt and 2/Auckland in an orchard close to Breilly. Here final preparations were made. Packs and greatcoats were stored away, and, with fighting gear only, the men were prepared for immediate action. At midnight 2/Auckland were roused from their chilly bivouac and proceeded by motor-lorry through Amiens to Pont Noyelles. From here the last stage of the journey was commenced. Early in the morning the Battalions were moving in the chill dark hours before dawn to Hedauville, near where the Division was being assembled. There was no stay. Dawn came, and then hour after hour the steady tramp, tramp, tramp along the high road ate into the tale of kilometres. There was a short spell for a cold breakfast, and then once more the steady move forward through a countryside that was curiously deserted. One thing only was certain, and that was that where the march stopped there the fighting would begin. Men were desperately tired and footsore, yet scarcely anyone dropped out. Albert was passed some distance on the right hand side. The stronger took a heavier burden upon themselves, carried extra panniers, bags of rations, or took a comrade's rifle, and so the steady march went on. Once the road was blocked by a six-inch howitzer battery that had been retreating for some days. Two or three wandering Scotchmen and Tommies were met with, but no sign of an army or of resistance was seen, until just outside Hedauville, where several tanks of the new "whippet" type were manoeuvring. A long-range naval gun outside of the village was firing at intervals. By mid-day two-thirds of the Division had assembled in a large field between Hedauville and Mailly-Maillet, a village some twenty kilometres from Amiens, and about the same distance from Doullens. For an hour there was a welcome spell, during which time final arrangements were made and orders issued. One thing was clear. The New Zealanders had marched straight into the gap that had developed between the 4th and 5th Corps. Somewhere ahead of them were the
As the Wellington Battalions had not yet arrived, the 1/Brigade was reorganised, and for the time being consisted of the two Auckland Battalions and the 2/N.Z.R.B. The plan of battle was for the 1/Brigade to advance astride of the Mailly-Maillet-Pusieux Road in the direction of Serre, while the 2/Brigade on the right were to go through Auchonvillers, and if possible reach Beaumont-Hamel. Soon after two o'clock the leading battalions were moving off with intervals between the platoons.
The Germans, flushed with victory, had crossed the old battlefield. Their leading troops had been assigned so many kilometres for that day, on the completion of which they were to be withdrawn and rested. Eagerly they pressed on to complete their task. They passed the old German front line, they passed the British line of 1916, and in high spirits set foot on what for four years had been inviolate soil. Amiens was before them—Amiens, which meant victory for the German arms; Amiens, which would give the supremacy of the world and "Deutschland! Deutschland uber alles!" They were not far from the city of their desire. At any moment, as they topped one of the rolling chalk ridges, they might catch a distant glimpse of the spires and belfries of the famous town. For four days their advance had never ceased, and they had met with no serious opposition. Their patrols, advancing boldly, and with no great amount of caution, suddenly encountered the leading sections of the 1/N.Z.R.B. There was
1/Auckland advanced along the Serre road, in threes, with intervals between the platoons. In an orchard just outside the village they passed two English eighteen-pounder guns, which for the last four days had been retiring and fighting all the way. Three hundred yards further on, near the "Windmill," two Hun machine-guns opened fire on the column. The Aucklanders immediately swung half-right and deployed, with the 15th and 16th Companies leading and the left flank just touching on the Serre road. They advanced in artillery formation toward the "apple-trees" and a long hedge, which ran across the front. Here the enemy fire became intense, and at this point casualties commenced to occur. Henry Beery, one of the oldest soldiers with the Battalion, a very brave man, was killed. From the hedge the ground fell away for some little distance, and then, after a small level space, rose again to the Serre Ridge. At the foot of the ridge, and just to the right of the sugar refinery the 16th were checked. Many men had fallen. Lieutenant Swayne, one of the company's most gallant soldiers, was wounded. The machine-gun barrage was too heavy to pass, and so a halt was made in a sunken road, while the men recovered their breath, and ways and means were found to continue the advance. In the meanwhile, the 15th Company, under Captain Holland, had gone well forward. Getting into a tangle of old saps, and led by their Company Commander, Sergeant-Major Rogers, Prendergast and other brave men, they bombed forward, past the chalk pits, through the Bowery and into the enemy positions beyond. Three machine-guns were taken and a number of the enemy, who were fleeing in all directions, were killed. This brought the 15th Company well ahead of the 16th, took off much of the pressure, and opened up the way for a further move. In the meanwhile, Captain Vercoe had worked with great energy to reorganise his men, Captain Coates had pushed up reinforcements from the
From the sunken road to the enemy guns there was only some hundred and twenty yards of open, gentle slope. As darkness commenced to fall, Captain Vercoe gave the signal. "Come on, boys; rush them, rush them!" The Waikatos, and the 3rd Auckland with them, went up the hill in the teeth of the German fire. Lieutenant John Allen led the charge with magnificent courage. Looker, Moffitt and Brewer were amongst the first to break into the German line. The Aucklanders closed in with the cold steel, and in a few moments the Huns were a crowd of panic-stricken fugitives. It was in vain that their officers endeavoured to rally them—a few were taken prisoner, many were killed, and the remainder ran. Night fell as victory was secure. The sugar refinery, on the left of the Serre road, taken by the Rifle Brigade, and set on fire by the German artillery, was burning luridly. It was a wild night. Numbers of the enemy were on the front, and several times they came up against the Auckland posts. Once a number of them were observed to be deploying out on the road ready to counter-attack. Lance-Corporal Bray and another man, going out by themselves, reached the flank of this party and dispersed them with Lewis gun fire.
The Huns made no further attempts to retake this portion of the line, but all next day they bombarded it heavily with minenwerfer and artillery fire. Many casualties occurred, including Lieutenant Allen, who was killed, and Lieutenant Quartley wounded. Throughout the whole of these operations Captain Vercoe's conduct had been most distinguished. He had led his company with great determination and ability, and now he performed one of the coolest and most valiant deeds done by any member of the Regiment throughout the war. Two of his posts were isolated. They had been heavily shelled, and from the main position it was obvious that casualties must
Captain Coates once more distinguished himself greatly.
2/Auckland, in reserve during the attack, settled down on the outskirts of the village, expecting to stay there the night. They saw the wounded and prisoners go through, and then salvaged the deserted houses for anything that would make the cold of the night more tolerable. Blankets, scraps of canvas, odds and ends of female raiment, were requisitioned, and everyone lay down to sleep in fair comfort. Hardly, however, were all settled than orders came for the Battalion to move up as far as the "apple-trees," preparatory to relieving the 2/N.Z.R.B. On completion of the move, there was a long wait in the bitter cold. Groups here and there huddled up under their oil-sheets, and endeavoured to get a little sleep. Tired as they were it was too cold, and before long nearly all were stamping about in a vain endeavour to keep warm. At last, in the early hours of the morning, the relief took place, the 15th and 16th Companies taking over the front posts, which had been established in the old communication trenches which ran from the Hebuterne road to the old front line, now held by the enemy. On the right of the Serre road, 1/Auckland had reached the rim of the saucer-shaped valley which stretched from Beaumont-Hamel to Hebuterne, Rossignol Wood and Puisieux. Their observation was good, and as the ground commenced to fall away almost immediately in front
HebutÉrne.
Dawn came, and in the first faint light the Huns were seen streaming across the Serre road into their front trench without apparently the least attempt at concealment. They were evidently an assault battalion that had been used to easy victories, light casualties and every consideration from their opponents.
"Look at the b—— b——s coming up the road!" In a trice men were up on the fire-step, and it was not long before the road was clear. To reach their position a number of the Huns were compelled to cross the road in full view of the Auckland snipers. When they could no longer walk over with their hands in their pockets they tried running and crawling, with not much greater success. For two or three hours the shooting was good, and the Aucklanders enjoyed themselves immensely. So great was their ascendancy that although the Hun line was packed with men, scarcely a shot came from them all the morning, while the Aucklanders, right up on their parapet, showed themselves freely, and shot at anything, adding insult to injury by shooting the enemy with captured Mauser rifles.
By the middle of the morning the Huns had completed their preparations for attack. Their machine-guns and trench mortars opened up a heavy and continuous fire, to which it was not possible to make any effective reply, while the artillery that they had rapidly pushed forward barraged behind Battalion Headquarters and made things particularly lively round about the sugar refinery and Euston Dump. Down the old communication saps, that led from one line to another, the
A Hun scout peers round the traverse. It is a moment before he can focus his gaze, and in that moment a rifle has been aimed and fired. He drops forward, dead, but so suddenly smitten that the half-smile is still upon his face. His comrades are close behind, and in a moment the air is full of the stick-bombs. Some are caught and hurled back before they explode, others burst and scatter splinters all round. A wounded man staggers out and is dragged away by the stretcher-bearers, while the remainder of the little post, huddled up against the bank, so as to obtain all the shelter available, await the sudden rush. It comes, but the rifles are ready, and the foremost Huns fall dead. The remainder draw back, and once more commence to bomb. All through the afternoon they were alternately rushing and bombing, while their machinegun and trench mortar fire never slackened. Captain McArthur, who had been a great inspiration to his men, fighting in the front line with them, fell mortally wounded. Other officers and many men were down, but on the right, Sergeant Faithful dominated the situation, and not a Hun got in, nor was an inch of ground lost.
On the left of the 15th Company the bombs came raining into the trench, and, despite the fact that no casualties had
Throughout the long hard days of the 27th and 28th, the line opposite La Signy Farm had been held by 2/Auckland against an enemy superior in numbers and well supplied with bombs, who, despite their advantages of position and their superiority in machine-gun, trench mortar and artillery fire, had failed completely in their attempt to break through. The Brigades of the New Zealand Field Artillery had been racing south from Ypres, and late in the afternoon of the 27th the leading batteries were coming up the Doullens road. All next day they continued to arrive, and by the morning of the 29th were in position and firing. The new line was secure.
Lying in front of the New Zealand line, and in some parts dominating it, was the ridge and farmhouse of La Signy. Possession of this would very greatly improve the strength of the line, and would drive the enemy everywhere into the valley,
Easter Sunday, March 31st, 2/Auckland were relieved by 2/Wellington, and went back in reserve to Courcelles-au-Bois. It was time, for everyone was tired out. Since leaving Zuytpeene men had not had their boots off for a week, and there had been very little sleep for anyone. Fighting had been severe and continuous. During the last two or three days, rain had fallen, there was much mud, and many were suffering from the first stages of "trench foot." It was a weary trudge back, but at last all were back to the hot meal awaiting them, and the delights of an uninterrupted sleep.
The magpies in Picardy
Are more than I can tell.
They flicker down the dusty roads,
And cast a magic spell
On the men who march through Picardy
Through Picardy to Hell."
Throughout the months of April, May, June and July the New Zealand Division was employed holding the line. During this time extremely heavy fighting took place round Armentieres in the north and Rheims in the south. In both these localities the enemy launched very heavy attacks and penetrated to a great depth, but in both cases they were stopped before irretrievable disaster occurred. The New Zealanders would probably have been withdrawn and flung into one or the other of these areas but for the fact that a renewed German thrust toward Amiens was continually being threatened. On more than one occasion such an attack was expected almost daily, and all troops were warned to be in constant readiness.
1/Auckland had been withdrawn from the line on March 28th, and then on April 2nd came in once more, relieving 1/Wellington. They were themselves relieved forty-eight hours later by the 3/N.Z.R.B. Next day, April 5th, the enemy attacked with great violence on a wide front. Their artillery fire was very heavy, not only on the front lines, but also on the back areas. The Aucklanders of both battalions had rather a lively morning, but, fortunately, few casualties were sustained. Determined infantry assaults on the New Zealand position broke down before the steady resistance of the Rifle Brigade. This was the last effort made by the enemy to break through in the area of the Somme battlefield.
The position was now reasonably secure, and the next business was to consolidate it in such a fashion that no future attack, however heavy or sustained, would be likely to succeed.
2/Auckland stayed in the Purple Line round about Courcelles until April 9th, when they relieved 2/N.Z.R.B. in the sector stretching from Waterloo Bridge to a point half way to Hebuterne. The sector was a long one, but quiet, except for a certain amount of desultory shelling. Here the 15th Company had the misfortune to lose Company-Sergeant Major Brown, a very old, tried and trusty soldier, who from the days of the Main Body had been engaged in all the fighting. He particularly distinguished himself in the Battle of Messines. At this time there were very few Main Body men with good fighting records still remaining with the Regiment, and the loss of any of them was a very serious matter. "Old soldiers never die, they only fade away," is not quite correct. Certainly the less steadfast element did drift back to base camps and "soft jobs," but the finer sort were killed sooner or later. It was just a question of time. Some survived for a year, and were lucky to do so. Some came through a second year. Not many lived through a third. A very few, and one could name them on the fingers of one hand, went right through the war and fought in the last six months with the same dash and daring that had marked them out in the first weeks at Anzac; but even with these it was just a question of time, and if the war had lasted a little longer they, too, would have gone. Death came to all—to the brave man and to the coward. Sometimes he reaped a wide swathe, and other times as a gleaner does, he gathered his harvest one by one, but
2/Auckland were relieved on the 14th by 2/Wellington, and went back to Colincamps, while, on the same day, 1/Auckland went into the line, taking over from the Serre road to Waterloo Bridge. Though fairly quiet on the whole, the crossroads by the Sugar Factory were heavily shelled. Captain Alexander was badly wounded by a sniper early in the morning of the 15th, and on the same day three bombing attacks were carried out on a Hun post in one of the saps. There was some lively bombing, but nothing definite was achieved. On the 17th, the Battalion was relieved, going back to posts in the Purple Line. At the same time 2/Auckland moved back to a tarpaulin camp near Bertrancourt. The weather was not good, and the men were not very comfortable, but the spell out enabled them to have a clean up and get new underclothing. A week later the 1/Battalion took over the trenches in front of Hebuterne, while the 2/Battalion were in support in and behind the village. The sector was taken over partly from English and partly from Australian troops. Much work was necessary to put the trenches into good order. New Zealanders
On the 30th, 1/Auckland was relieved by I/Wellington, and went back in support, while the 2/Battalion took over the right half of the Brigade's sector—a very strong portion of the front, which completely overlooked the enemy position in the valley below. The enemy, so inconveniently placed, very sensibly kept quiet.
Another move back look place on May 6th, when 1/Auckland went back to the locality known as J 22 Central, not far from the Chateau de la Have, while 2/Auckland went into the Purple Line near the windmill of Bertrancourt. It was now well into the middle of spring, and the weather was becoming much finer, and the conditions in every way more pleasant. After a week in reserve the 1/Brigade took over the right subsector of the divisional front, 2/Auckland remaining in brigade reserve at Colincamps, while the 1st Battalion once more took over the Serre road sector. All through the next day there was considerable movement behind the enemy lines, but no resulting activity. At 6 p.m. Sergeant-Major Rogers, with five O.R.'s, left the trench by Mountjoy Sap, and raided an enemy strong point, for the purpose of obtaining identification. They found the trenches fully occupied and were unable to bring back any prisoners, although in the lively fight that took place they were successful in killing a considerable number of the enemy and managed to get back to their own line without loss. The following night the enemy endeavoured to retaliate by raiding an advanced Lewis gun post. A patrol fortunately located the raiding party while they were assembling in No-Man's-Land, and so enabled a destructive fire to be poured into the party, which was dispersed with loss. Although a big German attack was expected at any time, everyone was in the
During the evening of the 15th a platoon of the North Auckland Company, commanded by Lieutenant Stunnell, one of the old Main Body men, now promoted to commissioned rank, carried out a raid on the enemy line. Under cover of an artillery and trench mortar barrage they filed out into No-Man's-Land, and immediately the barrage lifted rushed in. They quickly bombed five dug-outs, killing some twenty of the enemy, and then returned with two prisoners and a light machine-gun, suffering no loss themselves. The whole operation barely took five minutes, and was a splendid example of the perfectly successful raid. A retaliatory barrage put down by the enemy caused a few casualties—amongst them being Major Holland, M.C. His death was a heavy blow, not only to the Regiment but also to the Brigade and the Division. Enlisting as a private in the same section of the 6th Company as Tuck, Tilsley and Melville, he had earned a wonderful reputation during the Gallipoli days. For his services there he was granted a commission and awarded the Military Cross—an honour which he and Captain Wallingford were the only Aucklanders to receive throughout that campaign. A man very keen on winning the war, extremely conscientious, and though not loved as well as some, yet universally respected, and greatly admired for his thoroughness, devotion to duty, and his great valour. When one thinks of the best fighting men the Regiment produced—men like Wallingford, Holland, Tilsley, Warden, Tuck, Forrest, Jock McKenzie, the Allens, Vercoe, Todd, Brewer, Prendergast, Rogers, Roberts, Robertson, Brown the stretcher-bearer, Campion, Greenwood, Stewart, Tom Gordon, Dr. Craig, Faithful, and if it be permissible to include him, Forsyth, V.C., the engineer—it is barely
2/Auckland came in, and occupied their old position before La Signy Farm. For the first few days there was quietness, undisturbed by anything more serious than a few rather badly aimed minenwerfers. Sergeant-Major Roberts was, as usual, very active on patrol work. It was during this spell in that the Battalion was raided for the only time in its history. Just before daylight the enemy guns played a heavy barrage on the front and support lines, which he followed up by a dash on the salient in Central Avenue. The raiders were observed and dispersed by Lewis gun fire, leaving behind them two dead and six rifles. On the evening of the 20th, the Battalion was relieved, and marched right back to billets in St. Leger Authie, a small village some miles behind the line. This march to billets was memorable, as owing to a late start the hour for the wearing of gas masks occurred actually during the march. For those who could raise no reasonable excuse for dropping behind, and then out of sight, the march was exceedingly unpleasant. St. Leger Authie was a typical little French village, and though the billets were not of the best, at the same time they were a very pleasant change after two months in the trenches and open fields.
The countryside of Picardy and Artois was different altogether from that around Armentieres and Ypres. Instead of level flats, stretching for mile after mile, there was here for a long distance alternating hill and valley. Both alike were well grassed, and much of the ground was down in crops. Patches of woodland were frequent, and were much used for camping grounds. From Hebuterne, which may be taken as
Louvencourt was for a considerable while the railhead for the New Zealand Division, and, in consequence, was the home of the various battalion transport details, those of the 1/Brigade camping close to the windmill of Lovencourt. This village was for a long time crowded with the men of a very fine French Division, which was there lying in reserve in case of a renewed effort by the enemy to break through.
The Entrenching Battalions had established themselves in the large and beautiful wood above the village of Pas. As all reinforcements passed through here, including men returned from hospital, the camp under the trees was frequently visited by all those who had got word of old friends coming up to the Division. Rossignol Farm, renamed "Diggerville," a frequent home of 1/Auckland, was a very large Y.M.C.A. centre.
1/Auckland in the Bois de Warnimont, and 2/Auckland in St. Leger, settled down to a week's concentrated training. There was much to be done. After two months in the line a considerable deal of smartening up was necessary, much attention was paid to gas training, and a considerable deal of time was also spent in carrying out battalion battle manoeuvres. The difficulty with which these operations were sometimes carried out showed how necessary training of this sort really was. Certain hilarious people from the Entrenching Group
A brigade horse show and transport competition was held at Vauchelles, whither the battalions marched one bright summer's day. The show ground was a very pleasant meadow with patches of woodland scattered about. Some New Zealand nursing sisters and some ladies from the district gave a touch of colour to the mass of khaki-clad men. Everything went off splendidly. 2/Auckland were successful in carrying off practically all the prizes, including General Melvill's Cup. Incidents like this made men forget the war for brief hours, though not for long.
Every night there was a droning in the air, and the heavy-laden Hun bombing 'planes flew down the line of the valley to Doullens—often not so far. It is never a pleasant feeling waiting for the last 'plane to get safely past, especially when there are only a few tiles overhead.
On June 1st, 2/Auckland went into Brigade reserve in and behind Sailly, while the 1/Battalion went into the line in front of Hebuterne. With the exception of a little shelling, the sector was quiet. A patrol party, endeavouring to locate a Hun strong point, were unlucky enough to be observed and to have a heavy machine-gun fire directed upon them, which wounded eight of the party. Nothing else happened, and then on the
This period of training was noteworthy for the number of social events which took place. First and foremost, Colonel S. S. Allen went over to England and got married.
A divisional horse show and sports was a very great success. It was largely attended. Many generals and other distinguished people were present. Not the least interested was a Hun airman, who came over to see the boxing. Someone evidently disturbed his peace of mind by shooting upon him with an anti-aircraft gun, for he shortly after flew away. Not long after, probably on his instigation, a big gun commenced to fire shells round about the area of the show ground. The programme was almost over, and so the shelling was taken as a broad hint to go home.
The 1/Brigade's debating competition resulted in 2/Auckland scoring a victory in the first round over 1/Auckland, but losing the final to 2/Wellington. This final excited a great deal of interest. It was held out in the open before an audience of several hundred men, the subject being: "Is a League of Nations Desirable ?" 2/Wellington's victory was well earned.
The mention of "church parades" brings up the question of religion. It is a subject that cannot be passed over as lightly as one might think. New Zealanders were generally supposed by army evangelists to be a very hard type to touch—harder even than the Australians—and very little religion was apparent amongst them. To start off with, very few men even in civilian life are at all deeply interested in the subject. A considerable number fall in with the ceremonial and social demands of the church simply from long-established habit. War came, and established habits went to the winds. Once overseas men did as they pleased in all the private relationships of life. It was very easy to run wild—it was rather difficult to keep straight. The influence of the chaplains, taken as a whole, was exceedingly small. Perhaps the real cause of this ineffectiveness was the disunion of the Church and her utter inability to give any clear leadership on any of the great issues of the time. This mental and moral cowardice was reflected in the Army. Chaplains always had a tendency to be obsessed with the fact that they were army officers, and to forget that first and foremost they were "men of God." One example will make things clear. A divisional order was issued to the effect that chaplains must not accompany their battalions into the line. Almost inconceivable to relate, this order was obeyed by the majority of the chaplains then with the Division. The Army was perfectly right in issuing the order, and the clergymen were quite correct in obeying it, but the whole underlying principle was wrong. As a rule chaplains were men whose moral conduct was unimpeachable, but who were not distinguished above ordinary men for courage and self-sacrifice. They were a good average—perhaps a little better than average—but from the followers of One Crucified, whose primary business, according to their creed, was "to lay down their lives for the sheep," it was perfectly justifiable to expect much more than mediocrity. One of the most saddening things of the war from the point of view of the Christian man was the
Authie was the centre of reunions of all sorts. Freemasons, Grammar School Old Boys, Old "A"s of the Training College, all held most successful functions. Altogether the spell was an exceeding pleasant one, and when the time came for a move forward the morale of the men was excellent. The general health and fitness was also good, except for the influenza epidemic which now broke out. Commencing in the east and centre of Europe, amongst populations whose resisting power had been lowered by the food scarcity, the disease rapidly spread westward, through the German army and across NoMan's-Land. A number of New Zealanders went down with it, but there were very few really serious cases, and scarcely any deaths. All the "flu" patients were concentrated in a camp at Marieux Wood, as delightful a spot as could have be n found anywhere.
"Onward!"
As the summer passed the power of the German Empire slowly waned. Furious assaults on the Western Front yielded great tactical victories, but, despite colossal losses, the Huns were at no place able to win through to their strategic objectives. The people of the Rhineland were demoralised by the bombing raids of the British Air Service. The flower of the German manhood was dead on the battlefields. Food was short. Many raw materials essential for the manufacture of munitions were terribly scarce. Material hardships and privations were at last commencing to wear down the morale of the German people. Russia, broken, conquered and humiliated, by preaching and propaganda stirred the revolutionary elements toward action. Not only did the Bolsheviks fling the secret treaties into the ash-barrel of history, but they denounced even more strongly the Imperialism of Prussia. Karl Liebknicht, the prisoner of the Kaiser, the Communist leader, who had from the beginning stood out uncompromisingly against the war, became more and more a power in Germany. From his prison cell his voice reached from one side of the Fatherland to the other. The whole country was honeycombed with the British propaganda directed by Lord Northcliffe. Every day the position of the War Lords was growing more desperate.
On the other hand, the power of the Allies waxed greater and greater. The mood of depression had passed with the coming of the enemy offensive. All through the summer there
The German War Lords, faced by the spectre of defeat, were now desperate. They could not cease attacking, because once on the defensive their last hope of victory would be gone, and in that case they feared the people. So they thundered on, endeavouring to smash a way to Paris. Their blows were heavy, but there were not lacking signs of weakness and indecision. The Allies supremacy in the air was gradually blinding the German army. Then at last, when it seemed as though the Germans were endeavouring to deal a death-stroke, the blow was arrested in mid-air and the counter-blow was struck. Marshal Foch opened the counter-offensive which in three months of furious, breathless fighting broke the power of Germany and brought victory.
From the middle of June, old soldiers in the New Zealand Division began to notice the preliminary preparations for a big move. Heavy guns were brought up by ones and twos. Tanks came in quietly by night and were hidden away in the patches of wood. Gradually the sector grew hotter. Shell fire became more intense as the enemy commenced to lose confidence. Raids were more frequent. In front of Hcbuterne and about Rossignol Wood a small affair of some sort or another happened every day.
On July 1st the 1/Brigade took over the sector from Rossignol Wood to Hebuterne, thus shifting the divisional front
2/Auckland, waiting for nightfall—sunset was not until eight o'clock—moved up and took over the Rossignol-Biez Wood sector, Rossignol Wood was of immense value to the enemy. It was the one place where they had a footing on the western rim of the basin. Not only did it afford much excellent observation, but it was also a fine jumping-off point for an attack. As long, moreover, as the enemy could hold the wood securely, offensive operations against weaker portions of their line in the valley below could be carried out only at a great disadvantage. The trenches were in rather bad repair, and a considerable amount of work was necessary to put them to rights. One fairly extensive bit of digging had to be done to connect Railway and Ash trenches. While in this position, Colonel Allen, Captain Tuck and the Padre should have been shot, but escaped, owing to the reprehensible carelessness of the Hun sentries. Nearly every morning these three officers approached the front line, exposing themselves in the most reckless manner. Strange to say, they were only fired on once, and then the Hun missed, although he could not have been more than a hundred yards away. At night the enemy in their posts along the edge of the wood were very nervy. They
Patrol work is always fascinating, and in front of Rossignol Wood it was even more so than usual. The dark line of the wood across the hundred yards of grass field seemed very specially mysterious. At midnight four men cross the parapet and move quietly through the wire. They carry rifles only, with a few spare rounds, and perhaps a bomb in the tunic pockets. Once clear of the wire they adopt a diamond formation, and then, with the leader in front, go forward slowly and with the utmost caution. Every now and again they slide into a shell-hole and listen intently for any sound, and then, satisfied that all is safe, move forward once more. Half way over No-Man's-Land an old trench is found and cautiously searched. There is nothing in it. A wooden cross with a piece of tattered cloth fluttering from it is the next mark, and from there the slow, careful, doubled-up walk becomes a crawl. Now the wood itself, dark, silent and mysterious, is but a matter of yards away. There is a halt for three or four minutes, and dead silence. Fifty yards away on the left a flare goes up, making everywhere as bright as day. The patrol lies flat, faces to the earth, until the flare falls with a last dying hiss amongst them. Nothing more—they have not been detected, and so after a little longer pause the leader glides forward. Straight ahead, not twenty yards away is a mound of white chalk on the very edge of the wood. Black stumps and broken branches form the background. Dark objects just visible may be men or may be trees. Is it a Hun post? There is but one way to be sure, and the patrol work on their stomachs toward it, moving inch by inch, fingers on triggers, with the first pressure already taken. The rear man of the party has the pin in his first bomb loosened, and is ready in the fraction of a second to launch it over the heads of the others. Five yards away from the mound the leader half rises and creeps in. It is an empty shell-hole—fortunately
On 9th July the Brigade went into divisional reserve,