Part 18

Maynard (Major in the Devons) arrived about midnight and took over command of the battalion, he having been on the staff of the 2nd Corps.

Oct. 26th.

Next morning I rode out again to Givenchy to see Ballard and my fresh French troops; for the 6/285th (Captain Gigot), the 5/290th (Commandant Ferracci--a typical little Corsican and a good soldier), and a squadron of Chasseurs a Cheval had arrived to strengthen us, besides the three batteries aforesaid (under Commandant Menuan). The 2/70th (now under Captain de Ferron) and the 6/295th (lately under Baron d'Oullenbourg, now wounded; I have, I fear, forgotten his successor's name) were, of course, also under me; so I had a nice little command now of three English and four French battalions, four English and three French batteries, and a French squadron. St Andre as liaison officer was of the greatest possible use to me, being both tactful and suggestive as to dealing with my new command, and keeping up splendid communication.

I then relieved the Devons by the 6/295th--and well they deserved it after their bad time for the last week,--and put the 296th in reserve at various points during the night, sending the Devons as reserve to the Norfolks and West Ridings at Les Plantins, between Givenchy and Festubert.

There was practically no shelling at all during the whole day--I wonder why; nor did the enemy make any movement. But we heard of their bringing big guns on to the rising ground at Billy and Haisnes, to the south of La Bassee, and tried to "find" them with our howitzers and heavy artillery battery.

Oct. 27th.

The reliefs were not finished till 2.30 A.M.--largely owing to some idiots, French or English, loosing off their rifles as they left the trench, which brought a heavy fire on us from the enemy and delayed matters for a long time. It was also not easy--although we had made elaborate and detailed arrangements--to relieve British by French troops in pitch darkness, for, interpreters being scarce, they could not understand each other when they met.

We heard that there was an attack on the 14th Brigade on our left about 1 A.M., and that 200 Germans had got in behind the K.O.Y.L.I. and were still there; what happened to them I do not know. The 7th Brigade, on the left of the 14th, had also been driven in, and the 14th Brigade received orders to make a counter-attack in the evening, with the Devons held ready to help them if required.

During the day one Captain Pigeonne and his batch of gendarmerie arrived, with orders to clear Festubert of its civilian inhabitants. This was necessary, as the Germans were pretty close up to it and there were undoubtedly spies, and even snipers were reported in and about the village. But hardly any people were found except the lunatic inhabitants of a small asylum, together with their staff, who had stayed there, both men and women, most devotedly for the last week, with practically nothing to eat in the whole place. The inhabitants were ordered to clear out, and some of them did. But others hid, and yet others crept back again by night, so the result was practically nil. One poor old woman was hunted out three times, but she returned yet once more, piteously saying that she had nowhere to go to, and wanted to die in her own house.

During the evening General Joubert, commanding the 58th Brigade, arrived with orders to take over command of all French troops north of the Canal. So my international command had not lasted long. But they sent me a liaison N.C.O. of their artillery--a most intelligent man with a yellow beard--and I was still allowed to call on the French batteries for assistance whenever I needed them.

Oct. 28th.

Joubert was a typical French General, white-moustached, short, courteous, gallant, and altogether charming and practical, and I went again to see and consult him next morning at Givenchy, cantering through the swampy woods at the back, where most of our seven batteries were posted under excellent cover. I also, before going to bid him adieu, had written him what I thought was a charming letter, congratulating him on the "galanterie de ses troupes." Alas, St Andre was out when I wrote the letter, or probably I should have expressed it differently; I hear it was subsequently published in orders, but I trust it was edited first!

The night had been extraordinarily quiet, and after my visit to Joubert the situation was so peaceful that I walked back a bit to inspect a third line of trenches that were being dug by civilians and spare troops under R.E. supervision. I was not much edified at the portion that the 15th Brigade had been told off to, for it was within 150 yards of a bunch of houses in front, under cover of which the Germans could have come up quite close; and if they had put a selection of their snipers into them, we should have had a poor time. But I quite allow that I was at a loss, owing to the awkward ground, to suggest anything better. We had also a mile of front to cover, with three weak battalions and a difficult line, whilst the four French battalions had been allotted altogether only half a mile of excellent natural trenches behind the Canal, or rather behind a broad water-ditch which ran into the Canal.

The 2nd Manchesters, under Strickland, late of the Norfolks, a first-rate battalion just arrived from India, had now been attached to the 14th Brigade--where their own 1st battalion were also--and had had very heavy fighting during the last few days just north of Festubert. The Devons were therefore sent to relieve them,--rather rough on them after barely forty-eight hours out of the trenches.

Oct. 29th.

We had an extraordinarily quiet night--a full eight hours' sleep without any disturbance,--and we were consequently feeling much fitter. But the ball began full early by a violent attack on the Devons at dawn, and another at 7 on the 2nd Manchesters, both hard pressed, but both repulsed--the Manchesters, who were short of ammunition, getting well in with the bayonet.

I sent one company of the Norfolks to support the Devons, but I could barely afford even that. The enemy was entrenching within 200 to 400 yards of all my battalions, pushing out saps from their trenches along the ditches and folds of the ground, and connecting up their heads in a most ingenious and hidden manner. The French were not attacked, so they sent a couple of companies at my request to Les Plantins, behind the Norfolks. However, after another attack between 9 and 10 A.M. the Germans dried up for the present.

We knew that the Indian Divisions from Lahore and Meerut were shortly coming to strengthen this part of the line, and I was therefore not surprised to hear that Macbean, commanding one of their Brigades, wanted to see Martyn and me about the relief of our respective Brigades. This was distinctly satisfactory from our point of view; but I was not entirely happy, for I was very doubtful how far these untried Indian troops would stand up to what was evidently going to be a very difficult situation if the Germans went on attacking as they had been doing. Fresh troops, it is true. But they had had no experience of this sort of fighting, nor of trenches, nor of cold wet weather: and they were going to have all three.

The relief of the West Ridings by the Black Watch battalion of the Indian Division was carried out on the same evening. The relief of the Bedfords, Cheshires, and Dorsets was also arranged for, but the Norfolks could not be relieved till the morrow. The 2nd Manchesters were relieved, however, by the 2/8th Gurkhas, who looked very much out of place with their big hats and tiny, sturdy Mongolian physique.

Oct. 30th.

After a very quiet night--except for French guns which started shelling heavily about 4 A.M., and kept us awake till daylight--we had another unpleasant day.

There were repeated attacks on the Devons and Gurkhas all day, and at 3 P.M. Maynard reported that the Gurkhas had lost all their British officers and were being driven out of their trenches, and that support was badly wanted.

The first story about the Gurkhas was that they had come to an end of their ammunition and were fighting with the bayonet, but were driven back by superior numbers. But it turned out later that they lost very heavily from shell fire, and, the trenches being too deep for the little men, they could produce no effect with their rifles, and could see nothing. So, having lost all their English officers, and being bewildered by the heavy fire and totally new conditions, and having no chance of getting in with the bayonet, they cleared out one by one, so as to get together into formation. The Devons' last man was in the firing line by this time, and so two Bedford companies and the West Ridings, no longer under my command, were ordered to retake some Gurkha trenches, into which the Germans had already penetrated, alongside ours.

It was frightfully difficult to make out what was happening, as not only were our troops in process of being relieved by the Indians, but there was very heavy fire as well on all our supports and on the roads leading up to the trenches, so that communication was all but impossible, most telephone wires having been broken long ago and found impossible to repair under such fire.

The 58th (Wilde's) Rifles had arrived, and were by way of relieving the Norfolks; but owing to this attack they were deflected in rear of the Devons. Then we were called on to send two companies to support the Devons. But, considering that they now had already two Bedford companies, four of West Ridings, and four of the 58th Rifles, to support them in enclosed country where they could hardly move, and that to weaken my already very thin line of Norfolks and Black Watch meant leaving me no supports at all, I respectfully protested, and gained my point.

Elaborate arrangements were made by the authorities for retaking the lost trenches by the Bedfords, &c., at nightfall; then the movement was deferred till 1.30 A.M., and then till dawn; but nothing happened at all during the night except occasional fire-bursts, which sounded like general attacks.

I might mention that during these "quiet" nights there were numerous fire-bursts at intervals, which used to bring me out of, or rather off, my bed three or four times a night, for the sentry on our cottage had strict orders to call me in case anything alarming occurred in our front. But they always slacked off after 5 or 10 minutes of my waiting in the cold, wet, muddy road, and I crept to bed again till the next one woke me.

It was a tiny cottage that we lived in during those days, belonging to a poor woman who, with her child, had been turned out by some one else and sent to another house half a mile off. She was perpetually coming back and weeping to be readmitted, but there really was not room, and we had to soothe her with promises, and eventually with cash in order to get rid of her. After all, she was living with her friends, though doubtless they were a bit crowded, and she returned to her cottage when we left it.