|
Post by shred on Dec 2, 2013 21:45:43 GMT
Richard Faulkner Ackerley, son of Samuel and Isabel, was born in Salford in 1898. The 1911 census lists him as a 13 year old scholar living at 109 Claremont Rd, Pendleton, with his parents and sister Isabel.
This item is from The Great War Archive, University of Oxford (www.oucs.ox.ac.uk/ww1lit/gwa); © Richard David and John Ackerley
The War Years I well remember the Declaration of War as we were staying with Uncle Dick and Auntie Mary at Dale Head (near Whiston, midway between Peak Forest and Tideswell) over the August Bank Holiday. On walking to Tideswell on Tuesday August 4th. we heard that Germany had been issued with an ultimatum to expire at 11 pm that evening. You must imagine what life was like in those days with no television and no radio. Very few people were on the telephone even and we were completely cut off in the heart of the country so we had to walk over to Tideswell again on the morning of the 5th. to get the news. Dad went back to Manchester at once and we followed a few days later. A Moratorium was declared and all the Banks were closed for four days. Fortunately we had some money to last us for a short time, but many people were in a real mess without ready cash. Nobody quite realised what we were in for but all the young men were in a ferment and were either joining the Territorials or Kitchener's first 100,000. The Territorials were soon full up and started 2nd line regiments, the 6th Manchester. Ardwick being very popular with the clerks and businessmen of Manchester and went to form the 42nd and 66th Divisions along with the 7th and 8th Battalions Lancashire Fusiliers from Cross Lane and Broughton. I remember one morning in September about 5.30am hearing martial music from afar and dressing to dash out to Pendlebury to see the Lancashire Fusiliers marching off to camp at Littleborough. I was 16 ½ at the time and can best be described by some poetry written at about the time: 'And me with my head chock full of fighting, ‘and the blood of Vikings to thrill my veins'. I was desperately anxious that the war would not finish before I could get into it. However, it was back to school for me. The Army was not allowed to accept anyone under the age of 19, though many slipped in. My pal Burke joined the Royal Irish Rifles and got as far as Dublin from where he was unceremoniously yanked back by his father. One boy of 15 ½ was at Gallipoli. The first thing we did when we got back to school was to join the O.T.C. and we drilled after school on the Blue Coats ground at the rear of the buildings. On Saturdays we had field days, often at the back of Irlam-on-the-Heights on the ground sloping to the Irwell. So passed the time until Matric exams in July, after I had worked harder than ever in my life. I did four hours studying every night and worked all Sunday as Dad had said that if I passed I could join the Army. Well, I passed, and was offered a commission in the Hampshire Regiment but Dad said I was too young and not experienced enough. He insisted that I join the Inns of Court O.T.C. in London first. It was a good job that I didn't join the Hampshires as a few weeks after they were sent out with the expedition to Basra and Mesopotamia and how on earth I would have stood the heat I don't know. It was very excessive and not my style at all. Nearly all went down with dysentery. One of my friends, Collisson, who fell ill and was taken down the Tigris lying on the open deck, said the place was an absolute shambles as they were defecating where they lay and the stench was unbelievable. However, when I went down to London with Dad for an interview at the Inns of Court (introduced by one of the leading barristers, Scott) they were very sorry but they had just been told not to enroll any more men as they were being turned into a 'Cadet School'. These were just being formed by the Army to train men for commissions and were the only way you could get one, either entering from the Army or an O.T.C. But, the minimum age was eighteen and you had to show your birth certificate. There were many Cadet Schools formed and of Battalion strength, organised accordingly and the training lasting four months while they gradually weeded out the unsatisfactory ones, physically and mentally. Then the successful ones had to sit an examination, having to pass this and another in field work. So, meantime, I went to work at James Boyd and Son. They wouldn't take you in the Army as a private unless you were nineteen but I did find out that, as soon as I was eighteen, I could join the R.F.C. ground staff. I wasn't particularly keen on this but when I told Dad that I was going to join he said the best thing that I could do was to join the Manchester University O.T.C. who ran a full-time training course from where you could go onto a Cadet School. So, in April of 1916 I joined up.
|
|
|
Post by shred on Dec 2, 2013 21:46:47 GMT
The bulk of the men were considerably older than I was, most of them being solicitors, accountants, businessmen, etc. There were three permanent officers, a sergeant-major and several sergeants together with about twelve lance-corporals from the ranks. With my previous training at the school O.T.C. I was soon promoted to lance-corporal and spent my time drilling the men and generally knocking them into shape. It was very good training for me and at last I was sent to Cadet School in November at Newmarket, about three miles out near Snailwell. We were housed in huts, about thirty men to a hut and in which there was one coke stove in the centre and beds along each side. Our Company Commander was ex-Indian Army. He had lost his arm earlier in the war and was really fiery and a very strict disciplinarian. Our own particular hut sergeant, Brassey, from the L.F.s, was a terror; I hated that man more than anybody else. We were treated as privates and had to do everything - fatigues, guard duty, etc., as well as drill and night and day operations and study. Reveille was at 6am and you then had half an hour of either P.T. or running. You shaved and washed in cold water in the open, then cleaned your equipment, breakfasted at 7.30am and paraded from 8.15am to 12.15pm. After lunch it was parade again from 1.30pm to 4.30/5pm, then a main meal at 6pm and study later on. On Saturdays we finished at noon and we could then walk into Newmarket when I would take the opportunity of having a hot bath at one of the hotels. I think it was 1/- including clean towels, a lot of money on 6d per day but our only chance unless you had one in the open and in cold water, as there was no hot water laid on. Up to this time I had been rather fussy about my food, not being at all partial to meat. In fact, when in Manchester I went to a vegetarian restaurant, both from school and work. However, you either ate the food, mostly stews, or you went hungry. So I ate it. But after a couple of weeks I broke out in boils, about three in various places. Soon after I was given typhoid and tetanus injections and either the same day or the next had the boils lanced and given M.D. The weather was very cold and on parade next morning I passed out, so they gave me that day in bed but had to be on parade again the following day. I was the only Englishman in our hut, the rest being Scots. They were a very nice crowd; one or two from Aberdeen were so broad I had the greatest difficulty in making out what they said. As usual in my Army career I was the baby of the group, but, as always, they were all very decent to me and I can honestly say that none of them took advantage of my inexperience or tried to lead me astray in any way. I was friendly with a young man from Glasgow and we generally went out together, picking up with the main bunch at about 10pm at the pub they frequented, as most of them were hardened drinkers. However, they never tried to get us drinking and we would all walk back to camp together. It was a very cold winter and snow was on the ground for practically the whole of the four month training period. At Xmas we were given four days leave, the only leave we got until we passed out at the end of March. Those of us who had passed the course held a celebration dinner at a small hotel in Snailwell and, as was customary in those days, everybody had to contribute a turn to the entertainment. Some of the turns were really excellent. 'Opportunity Knocks' had nothing on them.
|
|
|
Post by shred on Dec 2, 2013 21:47:28 GMT
We were allowed to state our preference for any regiment we wanted, but the Army did not guarantee that you would get your choice. I opted for the Lancashire Fusiliers and was fortunate to get my choice. After a short leave I was posted to the 3rd Battalion at the Reserve Depot at Withernsea, near Hull, where 2nd Lieutenants were the lowest form of life and ten a penny. However, I was there for only a few weeks before being sent on embarkation leave, crossing to France on May 26th 1917 along with about forty others from the Depot. We had embarked at Folkestone but our departure was put off for several hours owing to enemy submarine activity in the Channel. We arrived at Calais in the early evening in the middle of an air raid. Although several bombs fell near us as we were disembarking nobody was hit. I was directed to stay at the Hotel Sauvage for the night only to find on my arrival that the whole place was deserted. A bomb had exploded in the street at the rear of the hotel, causing considerable damage. The entire staff of the hotel had retreated to the cellars and had no intention of coming out. So we foraged around for ourselves, had a very good meal, chose our own bedrooms and retired to rest. When we awoke next morning everything was functioning as usual and we received orders to go down to the 'Bull Ring' at Etaples. This was the place to which all reinforcements were sent, afterwards being distributed to the various Battalions and Divisions. It had a very bad name with the O.R. for drill and discipline, but we only had a day or so there before being sent on. I visited Le Touquet one afternoon and it was there I made my first acquaintance with our 'Loyal and Ancient Ally' the Portuguese, in the form of the advance party of their contingent. I wasn't very impressed by them but more later. I travelled up to Bailleul on my own, arriving at about midnight on the 31st May. Fortunately, the 9th Battalion, which I was joining, had sent a wagon down to meet me and I arrived in camp near Westoutre at about two or three in the morning. I dossed down where I could for the night in my sleeping bag. They let me sleep-in in the morning and later, when I had reported to the Adjutant, I was allocated to ‘W’ Company. The first time I met my brother officers was at lunch and they asked me what I would like to drink. Of course I said 'water please', at which they laughed and said I wouldn't last long on that. Well, I took one drink and that was enough. It was heavily chlorinated, by order and it was foul. So I asked what there was to drink, the answer being whiskey and soda or French beer, the latter being very weak. So I asked for beer and that was the first alcoholic drink I had ever had, there being no option. Later I had some lemonade powders sent out but they were very synthetic and hardly drowned the chlorine so I eventually drifted onto whiskey. Of course, you could have tea but I normally didn't drink it and the Army's Sergeant Major tea was hardly likely to make me change my mind. It was a hard school for a youth of just nineteen but no one ever encouraged me to drink, although you could have as much as you wanted at any time so long as you were totally fit to do your duty. That was adamant and no excuses were accepted - you held your drink as a gentleman or were for it. Fortunately we were very fit as we were out of doors in all weathers and alcohol certainly helped us to relax and stand the strains of the terrible conditions we often had to live in. It certainly taught me never to abuse alcohol and to control it's intake. Maybe you are better to be teetotal but alcohol has given me quite a lot of pleasure in life - the lesson is always to be in control of it, never let it be in control of you. I have seen too much unhappiness that way.
|
|
|
Post by shred on Dec 2, 2013 21:48:25 GMT
About the same time I started smoking, although up to that time, in contrast to many boys, I had never done so. My Uncle Dick gave me a pipe and tobacco and told me to start on these if I ever did take smoking up. And it was the best way to do so as I never started to inhale, so that when I started to smoke cigarettes after dinner I didn't inhale either. It is the inhaling which causes most of the trouble from smoking, and as I did not do so I was able to break off the habit of smoking at any time without much difficulty. There again I was determined that no habit was going to get control of me and I think I have stuck to that all my life. Now, to my brother officers. The Company Commander was Capt. J.F.T.P. Ward McInaid, a very flashy and vain man of whom you will hear much more later but who left about four weeks later for England to go on a Senior Officers' Course. The 2nd in command was Lieut. Jack Hayes MC who had been a regular Sergeant Major and promoted to 2nd Lieut. at Gallipoli. It was here that our 11th Division had taken part in the Suvla Bay landing. Jack received his MC for his part in the battle of the Somme at Mouquet Farm. To digress I should tell you that the 9th Battalion, Lancashire Fusiliers, was one of the first Kitchener's Army Battalions to be formed and most of the officers as well as all the NCOs were regulars, which accounted for the strict discipline which was always maintained and the excellent running of the Battalion. But to get back to Jack Hayes. He was a most colourful character, aged about forty and not one of the best from many points of view but he was a soldier and I learnt more from him about how to run a company than I could have done from anyone else. According to him he had first enlisted many years before in the Manchester Regiment, only to desert and enlist later in the Lancashire Fusiliers under the name of Jack Hayes, which name he had seen on the back of a fruiterer's cart as he entered the recruiting station. In the 1st Battalion he became an NCO being promoted to Company Sergeant Major when the 9th was formed. When Ward McInaid left for England Jack was promoted to Captain and took command of the company which he ruled with a rod of iron. He was a terrible man for drink and lust but he never did me any harm and I learnt a lot from him. He added a bar to his MC later at Ypres and, I believe, survived the war. According to one friend he opened up a grocer's shop in Colleyhurst after the war but I never saw or heard of him again. Then there was A.M. Inglis, aged about 23/4, a really nice fellow; he earned his MC at Ypres in the same action as Jack Hayes won his bar. Also Charlie Melling, an actor, who had won an MC earlier with the 11th Battalion; he was just a few weeks older than I was. Tim Healey from Warrington was another; he later won an MC with the French Mortars. He and I were very pally and were referred to as 'the Babes'. He later captained Liverpool University at Rugby and became a doctor. So, you can see that there was plenty of talent in 'W' Company; I should say it was the best that I was ever to be in. There was also another chap whose name I forget but who later became the Registrar at Broughton, Salford, but he was knocked out in my first action at Messines so I never knew him very well. We stayed a few days at Westoutre, during which time we had sports. I rather fancied my chances in the 100 yards race for Officers but was beaten by about three yards by A.E.R.Gilligan of 'Z' Company. He later became the England and Sussex cricket captain when Maurice Tate was in his heyday. On the night of the 6/7th June we moved up to the front near the Chinese Wall, to be held in reserve for the attack on the Messines Ridge, a not more than 200 foot rise which commanded a view of all the plain around Ypres and which had to be in our hands before the big Ypres offensive could be mounted later in the summer. Otherwise the Germans would have been able to see our every move and it would have been impossible for us to mass our artillery and men for the attack. The Ridge and forward slopes were strongly fortified with trenches and dugouts right up to our own trenches at the foot. A lot of mining and counter-mining had been going on. At 3.30am on the 7th all hell was let loose, about twenty mines exploding together, one crater was about forty feet across. The front divisions, the 25th (in which was our 11th Battalion) and Royal Irish and Royal Ulster, broke through and captured the Ridge and well down the slope on the other side, engulfing the whole of the German trench system there. So we were not required in the final assault, which was supposed to be our job if required. We advanced to the top of the Ridge where the Ypres-Messines road ran along through what had been the village of Wytschaete, but which was just a mass of ruins now. We came in for very heavy shelling here as the Germans put down a barrage to prevent us reinforcing the forward troops. This was the first time I had been under fire, but I was too busy getting my platoon under what cover there was to feel any fright. When the barrage slackened a bit we dashed over the road and forward to the edge of the Ousterven wood, where we were ordered to halt and dig-in to provide a trench line for our forward troops to retire to if the German counter-attack made any progress. I should say now that just short of the crest was a very deep and large dug-out which the Germans had used as a rest and first-aid post. It was from here that I took the packet of first-aid labels I have now.
|
|
|
Post by shred on Dec 2, 2013 21:49:19 GMT
As soon as the shelling had started Ward McInaid had dived down this particular dug-out and was not seen again during these operations, having the Company Headquarters about twenty feet below ground. I got my length of trench marked out and started the men digging. When we had got about a foot down the Boche started shelling again but this time a shrapnel barrage, bursting right overhead, the bullets spattering on the road about sixty to one hundred yards to our rear. The men took cover at once, thinking that I must have been mad, especially when I just stood there and told them to get on digging. I explained to them that we were in the safest place as, if the shrapnel was bursting overhead, it burst forward and the danger spot was the road. So, by the time the next big barrage was put down when the Germans started their big counter-attack, we were in quite reasonable cover about four feet down and with a good parapet. The parapet was made by putting soil at the front of the trench, and the parados by putting it at the back. Every officer was provided with a servant and a runner. It was the runner's job to stay at Command HQ and bring any orders or messages, and to take mine back. I was much amazed when, at the height of the barrage, my runner came through with three messages, . 1) how many men under my command had married Belgian wives? 2) my weekly return of jam jars had not been sent in, and 3) As soon as the barrage began I gave the order to 'stand to' and to take as much cover in the trench as possible. After about twenty minutes the barrage stopped as their counter-attack had failed. I gave the order to 'stand down' and then, about ten minutes later, came the order from Command HQ to 'stand to', which I ignored. I was learning fast. We lay down to sleep where we were. At about 2am I was wakened by the officer on duty (the one whose name I have forgotten) to take over. Within about fifteen minutes heavy shelling started and, as I made my way down the trench, found that a direct hit had blown-up the little shelter erected by the late duty officer and that he was completely buried. However, we dug him out and, though he was hardly hurt, he was badly shell-shocked and never came out to the front again. The next day was beautiful and hot. We finished putting the trench in order and, as some of the shell holes had joined together and filled with water, I had a very enjoyable bathe in one. We were there for a few days consolidating and acting as supports in case of German attempts to recapture our positions, but nothing much happened. I had been a bit anxious as to how I should conduct myself under fire but I seemed to have done alright as the men appeared to have every confidence in me. As one of our duties we were expected to censor all our men’s letters and I was quite bucked when one man wrote to his wife 'thank goodness we now have an officer who knows what he is doing'. I believe they had had a completely useless one before me. My servant was a chap called Bird, not the brightest. On my first morning in the Battalion he had wanted to know where my washstand was. I explained that I had not got one but that a bucket would do and that there were some horse lines about one hundred yards away. He got the idea and there was a bucket the next day. I had it all through the war and brought it back with me. The Government allowed you £30 to kit yourself out with but I had been well primed not to spend it on many things like washstands, etc. which they laid down as necessary, as the allowance wouldn't run to it and they were invariably lost or damaged on active service. On the 19th we left Wytschaete and were on the march for several days until we settled at Hellebroncq on the 24th. The weather was very hot and we used to start marching about 6am, continuing until about noon when we would settle in some small village for the rest of the day and night, the men mostly in the barns while the officers generally slept in our flea-bags on the floor in the farmhouse. I know that when we arrived at Hellebroncq I was billeted in a cottage and had a bedroom with a feather bed - I thought I was in heaven.
|
|
|
Post by shred on Dec 2, 2013 21:50:12 GMT
We were at Hellebroncq until July 1st, refitting and training. Then we went to Meutque and La Ronville where we took up permanent quarters in the farms for the next three weeks. Here we had the whole of the Ypres front(which we were scheduled to attack on August 1st)laid out on the ground and we had to practice our attacks on the Langenarck – Tonnebec road and over the Steerbeck, not much more than a ditch, with the strong points at Rat House and White House. Each company was allotted it's front and we had to go over it time after time, being held up by German strong points as shown by the air photographs, and taking the correct tactics. Each platoon had four sections, one being a Lewis gun and another the rifle bombs. As soon as you came under enemy fire the whole platoon got down on their tummies and, while the outside section pushed out on each flank, they were given covering fire by the two middle sections. Then the middle sections, composed of the Lewis gun and bombers, rushed forward under covering fire from the flanks. This procedure was repeated until the position was outflanked and the enemy were either overwhelmed or forced to retreat. It was beautiful weather and we quite enjoyed ourselves as we were well behind the, lines and could sleep safely at night. One day we held a Divisional Race Meeting to which we went by bus. As Healey was acting as Assistant Transport Officer we had the offer of two mules to ride the fifteen or so miles back to camp. We came back through Hellebroncq, visiting our late respective billets. Having got my mule in a narrow stable when I came to get it out I had a terrible time as a mule does not kick like a horse but does so sideways, backways and anyways. This one thoroughly enjoyed himself. However, I eventually got it out and, having mounted, set off. When we were only halfway through the village both mules stopped and refused to budge. They were abreast of their old transport lines and were determined to go no further. So we had to pocket our dignity and get off and lead them. After about two hundred yards and a hectic struggle we mounted again. They still went very reluctantly until they smelt their new lines when they set off at a gallop and we finished in fine style. I thus learnt the saying 'as stubborn as a mule'. A bit of a rumpus occurred at this time when a subaltern in 'Z' Company, who had been promoted from the ranks and though not a bad fellow was definitely out of his class, was ordered to come before a subaltern's court martial accused of frequenting the sergeants' canteen and drinking with the other ranks. All subalterns were ordered to be present by the senior subaltern. A.E.R.Gilligan, Healey and I refused to attend as we considered it rather snobbish and that the matter could have been dealt with more easily and quietly. This was considered to be leze-majesty and the Signalling Officer (Fletcher, a nasty piece of work) was sent with another officer to bring us before the court, both of them acting in a very threatening manner. However, A.W.Inglis, who was then Company 2nd i/c, told them to clear off and if anyone tried to interfere with 'the Babes' it would be over the dead bodies of the rest of the company. So, whatever the men thought of us, the other officers looked on us as youngsters yet. Actually, Goss (the promoted subaltern at the centre of the affair) behaved very well in the action at Ypres on August 16th. He was wounded on this occasion as also was Fletcher. On the 24th we left La Ronville and spent the next four days at Wormhoult. We then moved up by St. Jans-tu-Biezen to Windmill Camp at Woesten on the 30th, preparatory to the attack on the 2nd day of the offensive, August 1st. As it turned out we were at Windmill Camp for nine days as it started raining, continuing very heavily for several days. The ground was so churned up by the barrage that the 2nd day attack had to be postponed until August 16th.
|
|
|
Post by shred on Dec 2, 2013 21:50:53 GMT
My first Minden Dinner was eaten in a large marquee at Windmill Camp. This is an annual dinner celebrating the Lancashire Fusiliers' glorious victory at Minden on August 1st 1759, in the Seven Years War, when we went into battle with roses in our hats. It is one of the chief Battle Honours of the L.F. Every new officer is bound to eat a rose, washed down with champagne, at his first Minden Dinner, which I duly did. We had a most unpleasant stay at the camp as we were in bivouacs and tents in a hop garden. It rained and rained and everything was sopping wet. On August 7th we moved to Siege Camp, Elverdinge, about four miles short of the Yser Canal which runs around Ypres. From here we had to supply carrying parties every night over No 4 bridge and up to the front line, food, wine, ammunition, duckboards, etc. All had to be carried over duckboard tracks, about eighteen inches wide, for about three miles and over ground which was just a quagmire. If anyone fell off the track it was very difficult to pull them out and many lost their lives in this way. I remember one night one leg going over but fortunately I managed to keep from falling in, getting free by leaving my Wellington in the mud and going in my stocking foot for the rest of the night. We loathed those journeys and almost preferred to be in the line. We moved up to the canal bank north of Ypres on the 15th, prior to the attack on the 16th. I didn't take part in the attack as I had been put in ‘B’ team, this being a skeleton battalion left out so that the survivors could be reformed on them. This was necessary as in every attack at that time we lost 30/50% of our effectives, killed or wounded. Normally an officer took part in two out of three attacks so they didn't last long as their casualty rate was very high. It was reckoned that the average 'life' of a 2nd Lieutenant was six weeks. We went over the top at 4.45am on the 16th August and had captured all our objectives by the 17th. We were relieved on the same night and retired to Siege Camp to lick our wounds, having lost ten officers and two hundred and forty other ranks, wounded, dead or missing, so you can see why it was necessary to have a 'B' team. Jack Hayes and Inglis were awarded MCs for their gallant conduct. We stayed at Siege Camp until the 30th, acting as carrying parties and a reserve in case of counter-attacks. On the 30th we went further back to Dirty Bucket Camp where we were in tents under low scrub trees and heavily camouflaged. Here we re-organised and received a draft of one hundred new men. We were due to march out early on September 4th to Pear Tree Camp at Watou but all the night of the 3/4th we could hear aeroplanes circling overhead. As we were to be up at 3am we mostly stayed up playing cards, with all lights blacked out. Strict instructions had been issued about lights when breakfasting and getting ready in the morning as it was still dark, but some must have been careless and the planes must have spotted them. Just as I had finished breakfast and was going down to see the company four or five bombs were dropped right in the middle of the camp. There was frightful slaughter and we lost about one hundred men in those few minutes. I shall never forget lifting the flap of one tent which had been hit. There were sixteen bodies with legs and arms and blood allover the place. It was terrible and many of the casualties were among the new draft. We gradually sorted out the wounded and got them away in ambulances. By 10am we had formed up and marched away to Watou, leaving a clearingup party behind us. Watou was about sixteen miles behind the lines. We stayed there until the 11th September and then went to Herzelle for the next three weeks, reorganising, absorbing new recruits and training for the next attack at Poelcapelle.
|
|
|
Post by shred on Dec 2, 2013 21:51:33 GMT
At about this time I was appointed to a Divisional Court Martial, a rather harrowing experience. It consisted of a Lieutenant Colonel as President, a Major, a Captain and a 2nd Lieutenant (myself in this case) and was set up on this occasion to try a sergeant for 'Desertion in the face of the Enemy'. It had happened during the attack of August 16th. He was found wandering in the rear area some miles back after leaving his men. There was no doubt in the evidence but he was undoubtedly in a contused state of mind and I felt sorry for him in a way. But discipline is essential when in action and the penalty was to be shot at dawn. It was the rule when giving sentence that the junior officer should state his first, with reasons, and then the next junior in turn. I felt it a very unenviable position but, after consideration of all the facts, some example had to be made and I opted for the death penalty. So did the Captain and Major but, fortunately for my conscience in later life, the President used his prerogative and reduced the sentence to ten years, to be stripped of all his rank and to be discharged from the Army with Ignominy. I think most of those convicted were pardoned after the war, but not all of them were so lucky. As a boy of nineteen I was really too young to vote on such an issue and, after my later experiences, I would undoubtedly have been more sympathetic.
|
|
|
Post by shred on Dec 2, 2013 21:52:16 GMT
During this period I went on my first ten days leave. We entrained at the railhead at Hazebrauch in the late afternoon, arriving at Boulogne in the late evening and staying at the Officers' Club for the night. We crossed to Dover the next morning, caught the train to London and arrived in Manchester about midnight. There were one or two taxis at the station but none of them would take me on as they wanted the short lucrative runs. No other type of transport was available so I had to walk home to Pendleton. Fortunately my only luggage was in my haversack, but you can imagine my feelings. We were fighting and dying for these miserable devils who were exempt from service and they could see that I had come straight from the trenches. However, I enjoyed my leave and arrived back at Hazeele towards the end of September. I was immediately sent for by the 2nd i/c of the Battalion, a Major Milne, and asked if I would like the job of Intelligence Officer, the previous one having been wounded in the last attack. The I.O. had a sergeant and sixteen men under him and was responsible for all the Sniping and Scouting duties, collecting all Daily Information Reports from the companies and forwarding the Battalion Information Report to the Brigade HQ. This was when we were in the trenches; when attacking the I.O. was responsible for putting out the white tape on which the Battalion formed up in No Mans Land prior to an attack, and for conducting the various companies to their respective positions. Then, during the attack, he maintained liaison between the attacking force and Battalion HQ. A rather unenviable job as you came in for all the shelling and sniping, often in the open without any cover. However, I said 'yes' and was immediately told that I would have to go at once to the 5th Army Scouting and Sniping Course at Corbie, just south of Amiens, for two weeks, which cut me out of the Poelcappelle show. I left the Battalion on the 29/30th and it took us three days to cover about fifty miles by train. All the lines were blocked by troop trains and supplies. As we were travelling across the lines of communications we had to make many changes, being dumped at all sorts of stations and mostly spending the nights in stationary railway carriages. There were four of us from our division, one from the 11th Manchester in our brigade, one Irishman (a Protestant and an exceedingly nice chap) and another chap called George , who came from London but more about him later. We all got on very well together. One night we camped out luxoriously in first class compartments, but left all the doors of the other compartments open so that they would have to be shut before the train was started. It was fortunate that we did this as it was the only thing that wakened us. We and to hurriedly chuck all our goods out of the doors and jump for it, after the train had started. We were in that place for the whole of the next day, the R.T.O. saying that there was no chance of us getting away until about 7pm. So we went off for a walk in the country. It was beautiful, quiet farming country. The war might not have been on. At midday we found an estaminet in a little village where they made us the best omellette that I have ever tasted. With that and the apples and pears we got from the orchards, we did ourselves very well and spent a most enjoyable day. We eventually arrived on the course on the evening of the 2nd October, being promptly hauled before the Adjutant for being two days late. It was a very good course; we spent most of the days on practical field work, learning how to disguise and camouflage, but most of all on observation exercises learning to spot any changes in the trenches or the open country opposite to us. In the evenings we were taught what reports were required and how to make them. We were given excellent typewritten notes of all these things. On Saturdays, after lunch, we had some time off and visited Albert and Amiens. At the end of the course we had an exam. and reports on our work. We had been very well housed in a large chateau, with excellent sleeping accomodation. We completed the course on the 17th October. I It took me another four days to find out where my Battalion was and to reach them as they had moved out of the Ypres area after the October 4/6th attack at Broodseinde. This was a very successful attack in which all the objectives were gained but with two hundred and twenty one casualties. G.H. Pemberton, the Adjutant, was awarded the DSO after he had taken command of the Battalion when Jimmy Milne was wounded. The Padre and the doctor were both killed. Charlie Melling, who had been in command of 'W' Company, was also wounded. 2nd Lieut. Brewer, who was acting as Int. Officer, was killed and Sgt. Blackledge received a bar to his Military Medal.
|
|
|
Post by shred on Dec 2, 2013 21:52:58 GMT
The Battalion remained in the vicinity of the battle until the 17th, going then by rail to Lillus where I joined them on the 21st at Bully-Grenay . Ward-McInaid came back from the Senior Officers Course at this time and took command of the Battalion on the 10th October, being promoted to Acting Lieut. Colonel. The 9th Battalion was in the 11th Division. We wore a yellow patch on our backs with the number eleven outlined in black. Perhaps I should state that each division consisted of three brigades composed of four battalions (later reduced to three). Each battalion had four companies, with a strength of two hundred and forty men divided into four platoons each of four sections. In practice we were lucky to have about one hundred and eighty men in the company at anyone time. Each division had, in addition, a Machine Gun Company, Field Companies, Field Ambulances, Pioneers, etc. Our brigade consisted of the 8th Northumberland Fusiliers, the 5th Dorset Regiment and the 11th Manchester, besides ourselves. The brigade had a splendid reputation until we were unlucky to be disbanded in February, 1918. Our sister battalion was the 8th North. Fus., with which we were very friendly. When out of the line the men played against each other at football and the officers at hockey, as well as generally entertaining one another. Each company had a Captain in command, a 2nd i/c and four 2nd Lieuts. each with a platoon which included a sergeant, two corporals, four lance-corporals, a Company Sergeant Major and a Quarter Master Sergeant. The Battalion in addition had an Intelligence Officer with a sergeant and sixteen men, a Signalling Officer with a similar team, a doctor and four orderlies, and a Padre, in addition of course to the HQ under the Adjutant and a band. Then there was the Quartermaster, Lieut. Flint, and the transport section under Lieut. Pollitt. The Quartermaster was responsible for all the feeding of the Battalion and for all supplies of equipment and ammunition. The Transport Officer had all the horses and mules under his control; we had no motor transport of any kind, everything being pulled by mules normally. There was one horse for each company and also those for HQ. I rejoined the Battalion on October 20th at Bully-Grenay, taking up my duties as 1.0. There was a new S.O. Bailey as well as a new Re Padre. We were allowed to form a 'B' mess instead of being in the HQ mess. This suited us down to the ground as we got on very well together. As most of the natives were Res the Padre always got the best billets and every attention. He was a bit odd but a nice little chap; his hobby was translating the Bible from the original Latin, when he wasn't looking after the comfort of the men. Bailey was a commercial artist and very good at sketches. From October 20th to December 23rd we were in the trenches around Loos and Lens, either front line support or ressrve. At the start of this period I was sent to Lillers for about three days to Army HQ on a higher intelligence course, where I had a very nice billet over a draper's shop. Meanwhile, the Battalion was in support at Lens. On Oct. 31st we moved into the front line. The front here had hardly changed since 1915 when we had captured Loos and Hill 70. We held a line just short of the crest of the hill on the outskirts of Lens. The Germans were anything from one hundred to one hundred and fifty yards away, just over the crest. The trenches were well dug and protected with plenty of wire in front. We had good, deep dugouts that were well drained. In the support lines there were plenty of houses with cellars (this was in the suburbs of Lens) which were pretty well shellproof as they had been shelled to bits, the bricks and timber on top of the cellars taking anything but a direct hit and possibly even that. We had been told that an attack by the Germans was imminent. Consequently my job was to get all the information I could and to observe all movements. If you can imagine Lens, a mining town about the size of Chester, with suburbs of innumerable streets of small cottages surrounding it, the whole lot having been flattened by gunfire. The earth was all churned up and one mass of shell holes, with not a living thing in sight, just utter desolation. Tracks led up to the reserve lines and then communication trenches to the support trenches, and then again to the front trenches. All the communication trenches had their own names such as Nabobs Alley, etc. and I remember on the side of one trench that there was a large dud German shell about three feet long on which some wag had written 'A Conscientious Objector'.
|
|
|
Post by shred on Dec 2, 2013 21:53:37 GMT
About two miles behind the front line were several mining villages where we and the French were billeted when resting. Up and down the landscape were enormous slag heaps from which we got a certain amount of observation. Behind the reserve trenches were the guns of all types and sizes, well dug in and sandbagged. They were mainly concerned with counter battery work on their German counterparts but they could also be used to put down a barrage in case of an attack. They pad their observation posts in any suitable spot up at the front, and also made use of balloons from which they could see the results of their firing and direct their fire. The balloons were anchored to the ground and about 2/300 feet high. They were constantly threatened by enemy aircraft. It was a risky job with many of them being shot down, the O.O. escaping by parachute, if possible. Meanwhile, we were trying to bring the aircraft down with rifle fire, which wasn't very effective, and elsewhere the anti aircraft guns were harassing them. Some miles back of course were our own aerodromes, our planes taking large numbers of photographs of the enemy lines and back areas, besides going for the enemy balloons. The photos were sent up to the Battalion BQ where it was my job to interpret them; this was a fairly skilled job and it was for this reason that I had been sent on the higher intelligence course at Lillers. When I went to the front line on October 31st, filled with enthusiasm for my new job, I reviewed the whole position having regard to the necessity for good observation. The following sketch will show the position roughly. There was a good field of fire of 50/60 yards up to the crest, then the ground sloped gently down to the German line. From our trenches we could not see much of the ground in front of or behind the German line for some considerable way until the ground began to rise again to the Cite St. Elie, another suburb of Lens.
|
|
|
Post by shred on Dec 2, 2013 21:56:10 GMT
I decided that the ruins of Masons Houses was the most likely spot and obtained permission from Battalion HQ to take out four men at dawn on November 2nd, staying out there all day if possible, to observe carefully the whole German position and activity. The order issued to all companies is still among my papers. 'Z' Company, commanded by A.E.R. Gilligan, held the line at this point and I made all my arrangements with him. About 2am Sergeant Blackledge and I set out on patrol in order to decide where to place our observers and t9 generally size up the ground. Gilligan had promised to secure our left flank with a Lewis Gun team. It was a pitch black night. As usual we went out with a couple of Mills bombs in our pockets and my revolver in the holster strapped on – you couldn't manage a rifle as well as crawl around as it was necessary to escape the sentries' eyes when approaching the German lines. First we reconnoitered Masons Houses and then pushed on as far as the German wire, where we lay and listened to them talking. We crawled further along, examining the wire, before starting back. All this had taken about half an hour. We were about thirty yards to the left of Masons Houses and about sixty yards from our lines when we saw a German patrol of six men moving in a crouching manner about twenty yards away. We immediately dropped to the ground in a shell hole, each of us taking a Mills bomb from his pocket and extracting the pin whilst holding the arm of the bomb down in our hands and ready to throw. It was a moment of high tension. I could hear my heart beating so hard I thought they must surely hear it. I whispered to Blackledge 'not yet', and they passed within a few feet of us without seeing us. After an interval we made our way back to our own lines and discovered that what we had taken for the German patrol was, in fact, the Lewis Gun team who had mistaken the position they were to take up. What a mercy we didn't bomb them and it showed me how careful you had to be when moving about at night in No Mans Land, as well as the importance of everyone knowing what was going on. Just before dawn I took out four men and placed two on each side of Masons Houses in shell holes, one man behind the other by about ten yards , from which positions they would have a good view of all the German lines and communication trenches when it became light. These men had instructions to make notes of all movements with times and positions, etc. I myself took up a position in the middle and to the rear. However, as I suspected the loneliness and danger might be too much for some of the men I commenced to move the earth so that I could crawl into the first shell holes and then into the forward ones without exposing myself. It was a good job I did as the front man on the right was just cowering at the bottom of the shell hole, too nervous to look out. I spent about half an hour with him, reassuring him and showing him how to observe. I then went to the other flank and explained how I would keep in touch with them and how they could retreat under cover, if necessary. The rear man relieved the front man every two hours. Actually, there was very little movement and we formed the opinion that the Germans were holding the front line very lightly in the daytime. There were no signs in the back areas of much activity such as would be necessary if they were going to mount an attack, as had been suggested. So we decided this was not likely. Later on, when a raid for identification was planned, it was carried out in daylight; as the line was being lightly held the raid was very sucessful and casualties were avoided. However, some German plane must have observed the freshly displaced earth between my shell holes and at about 3.30pm they began to shell us very heavily and we had to withdraw, fortunately without loss. We had seen all that we wanted to anyway. We got a very good write-up in Divisional Orders but Ward McInaid got the credit.
|
|
|
Post by shred on Dec 2, 2013 21:56:51 GMT
In another part of the line, further right, I had a trench dug one night about fifty yards out to the crest of the rise overlooking Lens, taking up my position, alone, just before dawn. The enemy were now alerted however, and within an hour I was being dive-bombed by a plane and machine-gunned all the way back to our lines, an exceedingly nasty crawl as the trench was full of black beetles. In our next tour in the frontline I set up, one night, a sniper post in the parados. This had metal sheet protection and a slit for firing through. It overlooked a sap head which the Germans manned at night. I took care to camouflage the disturbed earth. This was very sucessful and we got three before breakfast. Ward McInaid of course was in high favour and received a lot of credit for our offensive spirit. I didn't like it when, in reserve, he said to me 'We'll find you something else to do when we go up next week'. Well, up to now all these had been my own affairs but when we got in the line he decided that I was to recover the body of one of the Northumberlands which had been in the German wire for about three weeks. This was in order to prevent identification. As I pointed out, the Germans must have got all the identification they wanted long ago. But he was safe in his dugout and dead keen on further glory, so he fixed the night. As it turned out it was full moon and as clear as daylight. After weighing the matter up I went back to Battalion HQ and said that I didn't think the operation should be attempted. When Ward McInaid pressed the matter I told him point-blank that I would not risk my life or the lives of any of my men on such a foolhardy and unnecessary operation. I suppose I could have stagemanaged a show, as he would never have known, but I was too direct and, after one hell of a row, was sacked from my job and returned to my company for duty. Actually, my case was one of several reported by the Adjutant Pemberton to the Division when Ward McInaid was demoted from command of the Battalion. So, M.I.5 lost one of it's most brilliant recruits. Personally, I didn't mind going back to ‘W’ Company as Inglis now had command of 'Z' Company and Healey had gone to French Mortars. I took over as 2nd i/c, with a good chance of further promotion as it arose. It was during this period that I learnt more about running a Company from Jack Hayes than could have got from anybody else. Being an ex S.M. he knew all the tricks of the trade and as he let me do most of the work, under his supervision, it was invaluable experience for me. On December 22nd we were withdrawn from the trenches and arrived by bus at Lapuqnoy on the 23rd. We stayed here until January 21st. The two days before Xmas were very busy for me; the first I spent riding a bicycle allover the place on the look-out for beer as we wanted to give the men at least two bottles each. While doing this I also managed to get a barn as well. The second day Pemberton asked me to go to the Field Cashier, about ten miles away, to draw all the money for the Battalion and for all the individual officers. I was allowed the Company horse for this job, which proved quite exciting as ours had a certain amount of Arab in it and had not been ridden for weeks while we were in the trenches. Everything went alright for the first few miles until I was going over a railway line when a train, which was passing underneath the bridge, let off steam. The horse of course took fright and set off hell for leather. I simply could not pull her up. A village hove in sight, everyone scattered right and left, and we crashed down the main street. Fortunately a long hill came after the village and gradually she began to tire but I kept her at it until I had full command. Without further incident I arrived at my destination and put the horse up at the local estaminet. Then, having drawn the money, I went back and had a drink and something to eat. I must say I didn't feel very easy with thousands of francs on me so I didn't waste much time and arrived back at the Battalion quickly and handed over the money. What with the cycling and the horse riding I was darned sore but the next day was Xmas and we had a busy time getting everything ready and dishing the payout. Then we waited on the men when they had their Xmas dinner at midday; they had a splendid spread and plenty to drink. Afterwards they had the day off to do what they liked, mostly sleep and write letters and then to the estaminets with plenty of money in their pockets.
|
|
|
Post by shred on Dec 2, 2013 21:57:57 GMT
Our Company was billeted in the big barns of several farms on the outskirts of the village. Later in the day we had the Officers' dinner and what a smasher, oysters, soup, fish, turkey and pudding and nuts etc. and plenty to drink, so we did ourselves proud and we deserved it after three months of very plain fare, but plenty of it. The weather was very cold with about six inches of snow everywhere. We settled down to steady work, making up kit, drilling and firing practice etc. On New Year's Eve another company let in the New Year at our Mess. We then got hold of the band and went around the village pulling everybody out of bed including the C.O., Adjutant, Doctor etc. The poor Doc was wandering around in his pyjamas and greatcoat for about three hours. Then we went on to the Northumberlands and had a riotous time there. Apart from these wild parties we had a fairly steady time. I had plenty of work to do as Jack Hayes went sick, so I had his work to do as well as my own. However, I coped and we had some enjoyable evenings, pierrot shows, and a boxing match between our Smasher Massie and Gerry Ford from 'Z' Company. Gerry Ford was the dirtiest man in the Battslion and there had been some talk of giving him a sauna bath to get his weight down. I was able to get some hot baths in at my digs, in a big wash tub before the fire in the kitchen, when they had all gone to bed. I had managed to lose my servant Bird and now had a good young man called Roberts, who came from Salford and who looked after me very well. I don't know whether I have mentioned two men at our company HQ; Mills, the storekeeper who was a villanous looking chap from Rochdale and never properly shaved and just the type to mug you in a dark alley, and Box, the sanitary man, responsible for the latrines etc. He was a real sanitary man, most unprepossessing and always looking as if he had slept in the latrines. However, I forgave them a lot as they were always the first to volunteer when I had some dangerous job to do; in fact, I quite liked them. On one occasion orders were given that all men, including HQ staff, cooks, 'etc. (who were usually excused) had to fire on the ranges. So, one day when we had finished firing and I was preparing to march the Company back to billets, only a squad of about sixteen men remained to clear up the range. I asked who was the oldest soldier in order to put him in charge and take responsibility. Who should step forward but Box, so I had no option. Later in the afternoon, on my way up from the Company HQ to my billet, I saw a body of men marching down the main street and recognised Box at the head in full command, giving them 'march to attention', 'left, right, left, right' and a magnificent 'eyes right'. It shows how a man responds to the occasion. During this time Jack Hayes went missing. As far as I could gather he was on the binge and sleeping at some estaminet but I couldn't get any sense out of his servant, Lamb, who was scared to death of him but also very devoted. So I had to cover up somehow and didn't report it, though I am sure the Adjutant knew. We all kept our mouths shut as otherwise Jack might have been court-martialled.
|
|
|
Post by shred on Dec 2, 2013 21:58:35 GMT
On another occasion at this time my old platoon Sergeant, Smith, the Stockport bricklayer, was acting as S.M. He turned up several minutes late to Company Orders one day and, on my asking for an explanation, said it was not yet two o'clock. To prove it he pulled out a tobacco tin in which were the remains of a watch pointing to five minutes to two. That was typical Smith but he did his job very well, knowing exactly how we wanted the company run having had long experience. You simply couldn't get angry with him. He used to entertain me when we were on the march and I learnt a lot about life from him. One day he was obviously in pain and I asked him if anything was wrong. No, he said, it was the missus, she must be in labour as he always had labour pains when she had, and sure enough he was right. I have heard of this effect on several ocassions since. At this time the Battalion was given a Croix de Guerre and it was decided to give it to Smith, as, though he had never done anything outstanding, he had always done his job well and had been in many actions since the Battalion had been on active service. Another incident which comes to mind was my receiving, as OC the Company, a letter from some female in Rochdale accusing Private Mills of having caused her pregnancy. My mind boggled at what sort of a woman could have been with Mills but there is an old Lancashire saying 'Every faux face has a faux fancy'. I had Mills up for orders but he was very indignant about it, saying he was only one of many and that it was impossible for me to sort it out. So I wrote to the woman and enclosed a letter from Mills in which he denied all responsibility and told her to stop worrying his officer. As I said, I was learning a lot about human nature and life's problems from the men's letters and they often came to me for advice. Fancy me at nineteen and previously almost without worldly experience. But by this time I had outlived my 'Babe' days, being 2nd i/c of a company and a Subaltern. I had to act as Mess President at Battalion dinners and everyone seemed to accept me, much to my amazement sometimes. The type of officer we were getting was deteriorating in some cases. I remember one, a market gardener from Kent, who reported one of the N.C.O.s for lack of discipline and familiarity. I didn't care for the officer and on going into the matter formed the opinion that the officer himself was to blame; he seemed to encourage familiarity with those under him and then reported them when things got out of hand. So I ticked him off and cautioned him about his future behaviour. Just about this time a Russian, 2nd Lieut. Mende, joined us. He was a cheerful lad whose speciality was jumping on the mess table and doing the typical Cossack dance amongst the glasses.
|
|