Q.6.a and Other Places: Recollections of 1916, 1917 and 1918

Part 1

Produced by Jeannie Howse, David Clarke and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries)

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+-----------------------------------------------------------+ | Transcriber's Note: | | | | Inconsistent hyphenation in the original document has | | been preserved. | | | | For the interest of the reader, 'the morning hate' is | | WWI slang for the "Stand To Arms". | | | | Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. For | | a complete list, please see the end of this document. | | | +-----------------------------------------------------------+

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Q. 6. A

AND OTHER PLACES

Q. 6. A AND OTHER PLACES

RECOLLECTIONS OF 1916, 1917, 1918

BY FRANCIS BUCKLEY

LONDON SPOTTISWOODE, BALLANTYNE & CO. LTD. 1 NEW-STREET SQUARE, E.C. 4 1920

INTRODUCTION

In the following pages I have tried to set down as faithfully as I can some of the impressions which remain to me now of three years' service in France and Flanders.

I have naturally suppressed much of the grim and ghastly horrors that were shared by all in the fighting area. A narrative must be written from some point of view, and I have had to select my own. I regret that so much personal and trivial incident should appear. Perhaps some will be able to see through the gross egotistical covering and get a glimpse, however faint, of the deeds of deathless heroism performed by my beloved comrades--the officers and men of the 7th Northumberland Fusiliers, the officers and men of the 149th Infantry Brigade, the officers and men of the 50th Division.

The climax of the story is the battle on the Somme where so many dear friends have perished. The name is taken from a spot where a small party of the 7th N.F. did something long afterwards to avenge their fallen comrades.

Finally no criticism of the Higher Command is intended by anything that has been written. If such can be read between the lines, it is unintentional and a matter for sincere regret.

CONTENTS

PAGE

I. WHEN IT BEGAN 1

II. THE MEN OF THE NORTH COUNTRY 7

III. ALNWICK 12

IV. THE JOURNEY OUT 17

V. HILL 60 22

VI. MOUNT SORREL AND CANNY HILL 31

VII. KEMMEL 41

VIII. DIVISIONAL REST 48

IX. BRIGADE HEAD-QUARTERS 52

X. THE BRIGADE BOMBING SCHOOL 59

XI. ST. ELOI AND NEUVE EGLISE 64

Part 2

XII. THE SOMME 68

XIII. HÉNENCOURT 72

XIV. MAMETZ WOOD 76

XV. THE 15TH SEPTEMBER, 1916 80

XVI. MILLENCOURT 87

XVII. HOOK SAP 90

XVIII. SECOND LEAVE--BRESLE 97

XIX. BUTTE OF WARLENCOURT--TRENCH WARFARE 102

XX. FRANCE AND THE FRENCH 107

XXI. SOUTH OF THE SOMME 115

XXII. THE BATTLE OF ARRAS 122

XXIII. WANCOURT TOWER--CROISILLES 125

XXIV. MONCHY-AU-BOIS 139

XXV. TRENCH WARFARE--VIS-CHERISY FRONT 143

XXVI. THE HOUTHULST FOREST 153

XXVII. DIVISIONAL REST NEAR ST. OMER 161

XXVIII. THE PASSCHENDAELE RIDGE 165

XXIX. GOOD-BYE TO THE 50TH DIVISION 173

XXX. DIGGING TRENCHES ABOUT LOOS 176

XXXI. THE GERMAN OFFENSIVE 1918--SECOND BATTLE OF ARRAS 182

XXXII. TRENCH WARFARE--HÉBUTERNE 203

XXXIII. TRENCH WARFARE--THE COLINCAMPS RIDGE 207

XXXIV. THE BRITISH OFFENSIVE 1918--BAPAUME RETAKEN 219

XXXV. THE STORMING OF THE HINDENBURG LINE NEAR TRESCAULT 224

XXXVI. THE GERMANS' LAST STAND 230

XXXVII. THE FINAL RUSH FORWARD 234

XXXVIII. THE END OF IT ALL 238

NOTE

Part 3

The following abbreviations are used:

B.H.Q. = Brigade Head-quarters. C.C.S. = Casualty Clearing Station. C.O. = Commanding Officer. C.T. = Communication Trench. D.A.Q.M.G. = Deputy-Assistant-Quartermaster-General. D.H.Q. = Divisional Head-quarters. F.A. = Field Ambulance. H.Q. = Head-quarters. L.-C. = Lance-Corporal. N.C.O. = Non-commissioned Officer. O.C. = Officer Commanding. O.P. = Observation Post. O.T.C. = Officers' Training Corps. Q.M. = Quartermaster. R.T.O. = Railway Transport Officer. Y.M.C.A. = Young Men's Christian Association.

Q. 6. A

RECOLLECTIONS OF 1916, 1917, AND 1918

WHEN IT BEGAN

Before the war I was living in London, with chambers at Lincoln's Inn.

I was not surprised when the trouble started. Ever since 1904 it was reasonably clear to me that our country would have to fight the Germans or go under.

The days before we declared war on Germany were spent in London. During the last few of them it was as though a terrible thunderstorm was hanging overhead, ready to burst: gloom and foreboding on the faces of all. There is no doubt that most of our people were taken by surprise and that they were aghast at the sudden gathering of the war cloud. But when the stroke of fate fell and we were committed to the war, there was a curious sense of relief in many hearts. Better death and ruin than dishonour. A shameful peace or neutrality is for most Englishmen harder to bear than all the horrors of war. Besides, this struggle for freedom had to be fought out, though few can have foretold the cost.

I had been rejected for the Territorial Force by the Army authorities in 1908 on account of weak eyesight. I had therefore few hopes of better luck in August 1914. At first only trained men were enrolled at the Inns of Court O.T.C., and this went on for some months--till the nation in fact began to realise the size of its task. So after two or three vain attempts to find my way into the services, I had to be content with the truncheon and armlet of a special constable. With this force I had no special adventures, but I learnt a good deal about the Vine Street Police area, and about the electric power stations of the West End. Christmas Day was spent on duty in the streets, and Easter Day found me still there. Then something happened which decided my own little fate, as well perhaps as the fate of Europe. This was the sinking of the good ship Lusitania on May 7, 1915, under peculiarly barbarous and inhuman circumstances. Eventually it brought the Americans into the war, when they came to understand that the German people gloried in the deed of shame. As for me, it took me once again to the doors of the O.T.C. in Lincoln's Inn. If I could not go as an officer I would at least go into the ranks. But by this time the rush of officer recruits had died down, and they were not so particular about eyesight. So on May 10, 1915, I found myself in possession of a suit of khaki. It was second-or third-hand and an indifferent fit, but it enclosed a glad heart. The die was cast, and one little boat fairly launched on its perilous passage. Never have I had cause to lament this step. If it has brought me great troubles and anguish, it has also given peace of mind and the satisfaction of using to the full such energy as I possess. It took me out of the stifling heat of the town and gave me at least four years of an open-air life. For which God be thanked! If it did not bring much promotion or honour, it brought the friendship of real men, and a treasure greater than all the stars and ribbons in the world.

A recruit at the Inns of Court O.T.C. had nothing to fear from those in charge if he was willing to do his best. There was little boisterousness or horse-play among the recruits, the dark shadow was too close for that; and the spirit among my new comrades was one of great earnestness. For the first two or three weeks we were trained in Town near the H.Q. of the Battalion in Lincoln's Inn. After that recruits were sent on to the camp at Berkhamsted for field training. We were billeted on the local inhabitants. I stayed at the house of Mr. Charles Dipple, from whose family I received much kind hospitality. It was a sudden change for one who had spent the greater part of ten years in London chambers. And at Berkhamsted they worked you hard, almost to the last degree of physical endurance. Save once, during a dark two weeks in France, I have never before or since felt the same fatigue of body. Also the change of food was a little strange and startling at first. The drill and discipline could do nothing but good to a healthy man. The enthusiasm of nearly all was great, our chief idea being to get ready and out to France or elsewhere before the war should be over. Little did we know what the future had in store.

There is nothing much to tell of this part of one's experience. One of the most pleasant incidents was a fortnightly leave of thirty-six hours at the week-end, which I used to spend with my friends in Town. Night manoeuvres on Wednesdays and Fridays and guard duty were perhaps the most unpleasant part of our lot. Some would add the adjutant's parade on Saturday morning. But that was short, if not always sweet.

I had the good luck to win an unpaid lance-corporal's stripe towards the end of my stay, chiefly, I think, on account of a certain aptitude for drill, a clean rifle, and clean boots. Of this small achievement I was and still am a little proud.

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