Operation Grifpille

[MDPMicahDominicParsons]

Hello everyone,

I wanted to share an extract that was recently translated during my research into a trench raid that took place on Sunday 4th February 1917.

 

From Germany's Great Era
Heroic Deeds of German Tegiments
The participation of the units of the former German army in the World War processed using the o􏰀icial war diaries
Former Prussian troops:
2nd Guards Regiment on Foot (Infantry)
The 2nd Guards Regiment on foot
On behalf of the o􏰀icers' association of the former 2nd Guards Foot Regiment
edited by Lieutenant Colonel a. D. Senior archivist Dr. von Reiben
In the second half of January, winter set in with snow and frost. Kaiser's birthday was celebrated in the severe cold by the resting Fusiliers with a small parade in Mons en Chaussee.
Far-reaching organizational changes in the army led to the departure of the 3rd Guards Regiment from the 1st Guards Division. The enormous need for troops on the ever-expanding fronts could only be met if the divisions were formed into three regiments in the future. A brigade sta􏰀 took over the leadership of the infantry of the divisions mentioned. From now on, the 1st, 2nd and 4th Guards Regiments were under the First Guards Brigade. General of the Infantry von Plettenberg, the commander who had been closely associated with the Guard Corps for many years, was transferred to the army o􏰀icers and handed over leadership to General of the Infantry von Quast.

On February 3rd, the order arrived to replace the 1st Guards Division with the 59th Infantry Division. Before that, however, the regiments were given another opportunity to say goodbye to the enemy in a patrol operation called "Poison Pill" ("Giftpille").
The poison pill operation was carried out by particularly daring people who we were allowed to choose from a large group of volunteers. We would have liked to have taken everyone with us, because many soldier's faces looked painful when we had to ignore them. And how the faces of the chosen ones glowed with pride at reaching the enemy out of the mud and dirt of the Somme position.
We received the following order: "The assault division has the task of penetrating the enemy's front trench between points 54b and 54d, advancing to the second trench and rolling up the gap in the trench in between. They are to return with as many prisoners as possible, bring back enemy weapons, papers, etc and to destroy other enemy ordnance and shelters with explosive devices. Any resistance must be ruthlessly broken."
Fully aware of the importance and severity of the execution of this order, the head of the company, Captain von Wrochen, had shown untiring concern for our well-being and some comfort and consideration for which every man will thank him in rememberance of this brilliant day of war.
Shared, well-heated quarters, better food, and not too strenuous, varied work kept spirits high. The regimental music was there just for us and compensated for many jumps with and without a break to breath at the training facility, which was set up in the area according to the French trenches based on photos taken from pilots. The regiment had a large number of leaders and men trained with Sturmbataillon 3 (storm batallion), so serving at the training facility was not new to us, and everyone tried to emulate the small, agile fighters of the Sturmbataillon.
Another final inspection by the division commander, Prince Eitel Friedrich, and we could begin the sharp execution of our operation.
Two days before the storm, Lieutenant Schlieper and I were invited to a cozy evening with Lieutenant von Gajewski. I had already experienced the hospitality of this particularly popular comrade in the "Blinddarm" (blind gut) of Canny [I think a place in France], but this time the unusual occasion made the welcome even warmer. What struck me that evening and will remain unforgettable to me was the changing mood of our dear host, who, contrary to his temperament, often seemed absent. His thoughts were probably with his loved ones at home. But our always cheerful Wolf-Dietrich von Schleiniß, who was also a guest here, soon managed to bring in happy and cheerful tones. We empty many a glass on our good luck, unaware that two days later we would have to pay our last greetings to our dear comrade Gajewsi.

The clear, very cold winter morning of February 4th dawned. The snow crunched under the quick footsteps of the teams who lined up at the church at Mons de Chaussee at 4:45 a.m. Now we were packed into wagons and, as fun as we were on the way home, we headed towards the position. When the first rays of sunlight turned the horizon purple and the terrain allowed a wide view, the vehicles were sent back.
We marched to the shelters of the standby company, which housed us until the start of the operation. In the well-warmed shelter, we three assault o􏰀icers soon became very tired. Still we couldn't get any sleep. Everyone dreamed of home with their eyes wide open, anticipating a special vacation if the company had a successful outcome. An orderly brought us a gramophone, sent by some comrade from the position. But even the beautiful, well-known tunes from home couldn't cheer Gajewski up. Finally we accepted Schlieper's suggestion to go to our people.
Our gorgeous guys eat, drink, chat and are in a good mood. Surrounded by a whole battery of liquor ampoules, the old warrior Vice Sergeant Schurade sits in a foxhole and repeats the entire war plan to his non-commissioned o􏰀icers. Funny comments fly back and forth - a wonderful atmosphere here too. We wave a greeting to our comrades and go to the starting position.
On the way we meet some artillery o􏰀icers who are already standing in front of their telescopes and are slowly zeroing in. The regimental comrades we meet shake our hands. "Break a leg".
Mine throwers are dragging their sugar loaves there for the dance festival [probably the mines look like sugar loaves and are going to make the enemy soldiers „dance“], and M. W. K. [I have no clue what this means], our dear comrade Nagel, comes along to inform us about the goals of his throwers. Now we are at our starting position, where the process o􏰀icers are already watching. We find it incomprehensible that the French artillery is completely silent. We take it as a good sign for our way through the barrage and go back to our people.
At 5:10 in the afternoon my raiding party in assault suits is standing in front of my shelter. We'll start immediately. As Schurade leads his patrol, I see a large liquor ampoule shining in his coat pocket, the neck of which is not plugged, but only covered with a towel. When I asked about the leaky plug, he explained to me about this useful invention.
We have reached the starting position, check the storm ladders for durability and lie down at the bottom of the trench for a short rest. Our fire is getting stronger. Heavy and light artillery, mines and grenade launchers are working as hard as they can - the projectiles whiz over our heads for a very short time, covering us with earth and wire particles that fly from the area in front of us into the trench. Hell is ablaze!
The people, glowing with tension, pace restlessly up and down. The process o􏰀icer Fonrobert stands calmly with the watch in his hand. “Still a long time,” he says and continues to observe.

Things are taking too long for Sergeant Schurade. He quickly jumps out of the trench onto the parapet and swings his carbine with his eyes rolling. I quickly drag him into the trench so that nothing is revealed prematurely.
-
The process o􏰀icer raises his hand: "Attention! Ready - go!". Like a wild hunt - everyone wants to be first - it goes without a break through the completely chopped wire of the enemy position. But what does the first French trench look like! No trace of what we had imagined. We are puzzled, the access route to "Paris" that Schurade is supposed to open cannot be found immediately. Now we have discovered it a little to the left and jump in. As ordered, I remain standing at this point with 8 men while Schurade and Sergeant Kling immediately roll up their trenches.
Until then, to our astonishment, all enemy defenses had remained silent. Now the Franzmann (French man) seems to have grasped the war situation. No artillery fire bothers us. But devastating machine gun fire comes from the flank and rear, which appears to have been very well targeted at the first trench. I stand at my post and look around. In the light of the many flares, the night has become bright as day. In front of me I notice an abandoned guard stand where two rifles, gas masks and helmets are still lying around. We rush forward to examine the shelters. Small holes filled with straw, some completely dented, all abandoned, reveal themselves to our eyes. Now it whistles and ticks. Not a word can be understood.
Now a man screams - his hand has been shot through. He is quickly connected and stays with us. I see a Frenchman about 100 meters to my right jump out of the Fraben and run towards the wire entanglement. He falls in his own machine gun fire. The Schurade patrol probably sent him to me, but he got lost in the bombarded terrain. I can't stand it in the trench anymore and walk across the bank towards the patrol Kling. Hardly a few seconds have passed when I meet her. A light mine thrower is brought in.
While the leader reports in the strongest machine gun fire, four men from Gajewski's shock troop carry a seriously wounded non-commissioned o􏰀icer in a tent (a plan, a stretcher). One of the porters carrying him groans softly - shot in the pelvis - and collapses. The sergeant whimpers and pleads to carry him further. I grab hold of it quickly until a man I called over takes my place. They rush towards our position while I make my way back to my post in the French trench, sealing and jumping.
In the short space of a few minutes, a lot has changed among my men in the enemy trench. Two are wounded and lie on the bottom of the trench. The dashing little non-commissioned o􏰀icer tries again to get to the French machine gun that was inflicting such losses on us from the flank. Two men from Shurade's squad are just arriving, bringing some wounded people and reporting the death of their leader, who fell in the tough hand grenade battle. I look at the clock. 15 minutes have passed. Both Gajewski and Schlieper were supposed to pass me after completing their assignment - but there was no sign of them. I give the agreed signal to go back with the whistle and hope for an answer. There is no return call.

Now I order the retreat, which is very slow because of the many wounded. The Franzmann seems to have been waiting for this and sends his bullet greetings after us. Again we have some wounded. But we have reached our trench and we quickly jump down onto the heads of rushing Frenchmen, all of whom Schlieper has caught in his attack at once after a hard fight with few losses. We asked the French about the French artillery and were told that the English had just taken over and were not yet in the picture.
Meanwhile, Gajewski lies seriously wounded in a dugout and is struggling with death. After a few hours one of our best comrades died for his fatherland. Despite the success, there was no mood among us in the 1st company, even during the cozy get-together in the o􏰀ice. There was one missing person in the company that we all liked - Vice Sergeant Schurade. We were never able to get over his loss.
The regiment honored the patrollers by awarding each man either an E.K. (Iron Cross?), certificates of bravery, or a cash gift. Years after the war, a former sergeant in our regiment, Da􏰀enies, spoke his certificate of bravery earned at the "poison pill (Giftpille)". We both remembered with unchanging love and reverence the appreciative words of our division commander, His Royal Highness Prince Eitel Friedrich, in front of the laid out body of our dear Gajewski in the church in Mons.
On January 7th, the regiment was replaced by the 164th Infantry Regiment. It moved into accommodation east of St. Quentin, the regimental sta􏰀 and 2nd battalion to Ribemont, the 1st battalion to Regny and Thenelles, the fusilier battalion and the 2nd machine gun company to Sissy.

 

Best Wishes,

Micah Dominic Parsons

 

Edited 13 April by MDPMicahDominicParsons

[Dai Bach y Sowldiwr]

Hi Micah,

It looks as though your computer has inserted the symbol 􏰀 all through your document instead of the letters ff.
Maybe you're using an out of date character set, or your fonts are slightly uncommon?

A bit odd.