A soldiers Diary by Captain H. Raymond Smith.

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I doubt if it would have been any real protection against these giant shells, as the house above it had been almost wholly destroyed, but there is a sort of moral comfort in having a roof over one's head at such a time. The big shells were now coming over thick and fast. The shelling lasted nearly an hour, and about one hundred big shells must have been flung into the village in that time. When at last the bombardment ceased we emerged from our cellar and surveyed the damage. Great shell holes appeared all over the place and many houses had been completely wrecked, including a portion of our billet, yet not a single man in the whole village was killed, and ony two were wounded! The object of the bombardment was to silence our two big guns, but these were not touched, and none of the shells fell very near them.

The next time we went back into the trenches it was to our old sector at Hebuterne. As April had arrived our tours in the trenches were extended from four to eight days.

It was always a very tiring experience wending our way up the long communication trenches to the front line at Hebuterne. I usually carried either the gun or tripod, both of them very heavy, in addition to the ordinary equipment. I well remember one occasion when I had got about half-way up the communication trench carrying the gun, with an empty sandbag on my shoulder to prevent the steel hurting too much. I was almost dead beat, but I dared not put the gun down and rest it on the floor of the trench, because I knew that by this time I had not sufficient strength to get it on my shoulder again. I eased the weight by resting the barrel of the gun against the side of the trench, and stood like this with the sweat running into my eyes. As I stood thus some of the merry lads of the 8th passed me on their way up to the front trench, and one of them called out to me, "Well, you told them you could do it!"

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This was a favourite sally when anyone had an especially hard task on hand, and under these circumstances could be particularly irritating, but I was too far whacked to be irritated by good humoured bandinage.

After eight days in the front line at Hebuterne we were not sorry to be relieved, though there had been less liveliness than usual. Back in our rest billets at Bus life went on much as usual, our time being fully occupied with parades, inspections, cleaning of guns, equipment, and spare parts, while our first day out of the line during wet weather was usually entirely occupied with scraping the thick caked mud off our clothing and webbing equipment.

On April 10th I was sent to hospital with the unromantic, though appropriate, complaint of German measles! There was quite an epidemic of it both in our trenches and those of the enemy, and the name led to all sorts of jokes about it. All the discomfort I experienced was a bad throat and high temperature for about two days; but of course it was necessary to isolate all cases, so I was sent via the Field Ambulance to Le Treport by train. Here our hospital quarters were under canvas on the cliffs overlooking the sea, and as we were in hospital blue, it was a very cold experience. Here I won first prize in a song or recitation competition at the Y.M.C.A. hut. The prize was a tin of Players cigarettes, and was very accepptable. After about three weeks we were discharged from hospital and sent to the Base Depot at le Havre, to be re-equiped before proceeding up the line again.

[marina]

Don't much fancy those hospital tents. I suppose it would have encouraged them to get better fast, if only to get warm again.

Marina

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Here we were sent to the camp barber, who insisted on cutting all our hair off close with clippers. I was informed that if you gave him a few sous he would graciously allow a little hair to remain in front, but as I had not had a pay day for weeks I was deviod of even the smallest French coin, and the same thing applied to two pals from the 7th Worcesters, who were also on their way back "up the line." The effect of the hair cut was to make me look exactly like a German prisoner; a likeness which was at once commented on.

The train journey towards the line was as slow as most of those war time train journeys, and took a portion of two nights and an entire day. On Sunday, May 14th, the train halted for several hours in Rouen station, and here we adjourned to the railway canteen, managed by a number of English ladies. Though we were entirely without money we managed to get a meal through one of my pals, who knew the ropes. He informed us that a bun or a cake cost a penny, and a dish of tea the same, but if you returned the dish to the counter the penny was returned, as it saved the ladies the labour of going round and collecting them from the tables. We therefore kept a careful watch, and as soon as a soldier (unaware of this practice) got up and left his empty dish, I would quietly go and collect it and hand it to one of the young ladies behind the counter, who would hand me a penny with a bright smile! My two friends from the 7th Worcesters were engaged in similar work in other parts of the large room, and in a short while we had collected quite enough pennies to enable us to have a good meal of cakes and tea! One of my pals remarked that "if we fell off the roof of a house we shouldn't hurt ourselves!"

Eventually we resumed our journey, detrained at Candas station, and then marched some twenty kilometres to Couin, where I had an enthusiastic reception from my comrades of the machine gun section, whose amusement at my excessively shorn appearance knew no bounds.

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Hebuterne

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Preparing for an Offensive - The Battle of the Somme - First Assaults Checked - The Attack Held Up - Heavy Shelling - A Change of Scene.

Our next tour in the trenches was in our old line at Hebuterne, and my machine gun team was once more stationed in the emplacement in Pelissier Trench. On the night after we got in the Germans shelled us very heavily just before dawn, but ceased soon after our batteries opened in reply. The following night was very noisy. The enemy shelled our front and support trenches heavily and backed this up by machine gun fire and some sort of infantry raid. The presence of Germans in our trenches was soon discovered and two of them were killed in hand to hand fighting. Those of the enemt who reached our trench were probably part of a raiding party. Our machine guns probably accounted for a number of others, while the rest escaped back to their own trench. These trench raids were a regular feature of this type of warfare and were carried out extensively by both sides. The object was usually to take prisoners with the hope that some information of value might be extracted from them.

We were relieved by another unit and left the trenches on June 1st. This time, instead of going to our old rest village of Bus, we marched about fifteen kilometres to a place near Gazencourt, where we spent the night. On the following day T______ and I spent an enjoyable evening in Doulens: it was nice to be in a fair sized town and in an atmosphere of civilisation again after such a long interval.

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The next day, however, we took the road again and marched about twenty kilometres to a village far behind the lines called Coulinvilliers. It was a very tiring march and on our arrival a drink of vin blanc at the nearest estaminet went down extremely well. We stayed at Coulinvilliers for eight days and while there underwent a very concentrated form of training in preparation for what was now known as "The Big Push," which it was understood we were to make against the enemy soon. All the talk in the billets and the cafes was about this much advertised "Big Push," and how it was going to shorten the war, even if it did not end it before many months had passed. I must confess that I flet some considerable doubt as to whether we could make a real break through, judging by the strength and depth of the German defences opposite to our lines all along the Hebuterne sector, and it seemed that this was to be the left flank of the British attack. However, it was no good looking on the gloomy side, and though I believe there were several who had misgivings, we kept our thoughts to ourselves, and made ready for whatever duty we might be called upon to perform.

At the end of eight days we moved back towards the line. On June 12th we moved to Yvrench, where we saw some Indian Cavalry in training, and two days later to Outre-Bois, and on the following day through Hem and Bretel to Coignieux. The last was a tiring march over bad roads, and on arrival at Coignieux we found we had covered thirty miles since 2 p.m. the previous day.

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Though my feet got somewhat sore I stuck the march well, and even carried Teddy N_____'s rifle during the last few miles. By this time I had been in France for nearly fifteen months without any leave, and I was looking forward to leave eagerly, as my name was next on the list from our Section. Alas, almost at once came the order "All leave cancelled." The "Big Push" was about to commence!

Our preliminary bombardment of the enemy's positions on the Somme was the biggest thing in its way that had taken place up to that period. All day and all night the guns thundered. I saw all the German observation balloons shot down one after the other, one afternoon in that week preceding the attack. The enemy, of course, knew that an attck was coming, and their guns replied vigorously.

The morning of July 1st, 1916, dawned fine and sunny - a perfect summer day. Thousands of batteries opened fire on the German trenches, and at a given signal our infantry left their trenches, and moved forward to the assault on those seemingly impregnable positions. Our Division, the 48th, was in Corps Reserve, and we were presumably being held in readiness to take further positions, should our attacking troops be able to gain all their objectives on the first day of the battle.

Accordingly we marched in the early morning to a huge field near Mailley. This applied to all the troops in our division, except two battalions of the Royal Warwicks, who formed part of the 143rd Brigade, who were detached from the main body, and took part in the first assaults. As we moved forward in battle order that morning I noticed a vast column of smoke with a huge volume of flame coming from the direction of Hebuterne just on our left. It was caused, so I heard afterwards, by an enemy shell striking one of our ammunition dumps.

[marina]

Gloomy thoughts indeed.

Marina

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By now the first wounded were coming back; we passed wagon loads of them. They looked shaken, and their faces showed tears of pain, while the blood was soaking through the bandages with which their wounds had been hastily bound. A group of French women stood in the doorway, and as they looked on our wounded, tears coursed down their faces.

All day we waited in the field near Mailley, and watched what we could see of the battle. Soon we were told that our troops had taken Serre and several other places, and hope odf success ran high. The shelling on both sides was terrific and continuous. On the following day (Sunday) we were told we were due to attack at dawn tomorrow. That evening - a perfect summer evening, with a gorgeous sunset - we moved into the trenches, and having got a certain distance, sat down and awaited the dawn, and the order to go "over the top." I find it difficult to describe my feelings, though I recall them perfectly. Some nervousness there was certainly but also curiosity and excitement, I really believe, predominated. We were, it seemed, on the verge of something really big, and soon, apparently, we should be in the enemy's newly captured trenches, and then probably forward again to capture other positions beyond. That night it never really got dark at all. Now it was getting on towards dawn, and tension quickened. Then came an order: "About turn, retire: operations cancelled!" We could hardly believe our ears, but there was nothing for it but to pick up our loads, turn about, and return to the place from whence we had set out. Something had gone wrong with the attack. The enemy's positions had been far stronger than our high command had been led to believe, and the German defenders had put up an unexpectedly stout resistance. Our tyroops had been forced back in many places on the left flank, and in others had been cut off and isolated after taking the German position.

[marina]

You can't leave it there, Andy!

Marina

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OK you win, another one for you tonight then.

The carnage on both sides had been terrible. Our men, once in the open, had been mown down by machine gun fire, but despite this, had gone on, and many enemy positions were now in British hands, despite furious counter attacks. On July 3rd we returned to our old quarters at Coignieux, but we were called out again at 9.30 p.m., marched to the Dell at Sailley, and stood to arms all night in the pouring rain. Lieutenant H____ kindly lent me his oilskin coat, and thus protected I lay down under a limber, accompanied by the faithful T_____, and slept despite the shelling.

The following evening we moved up into the trenches at Colincamps, and took over the line from part of the 31st Division, who had been severely cut up. Dead were lying all round, and in places the trenches were knee deep in mud and water. After a tiring struggle through the mud, part of the way in the trench, and when that got to bad, partly over the top, we at length reached our positions in the front line. Here the first attack had completely failed, and we were back from where we started from.

Our gun is in a very exposed position, in a shallow trench; there is no dug-out. I dig myself a sort of "arm-chair" in the parados, with my entrenching tool. If I stand upright I am exposed to the enemy from my waist upwards - motto, keep down!

It is trying work in the trenches now. From many points one can still see figures lying in strange, unnatural postures, and the red rays of the setting sun illuminate the weird scene each evening until night falls - night that is rendered almost as bright as day by the flashes of the guns and the bursting shells. But the trampled ground between the trenches is dyed with a redness which the sun has never given, and which the sun can never take away!

[marina]

Thank you.

That was a good section - I 'll remember the sunset section. Very creepy and very haunting.

Marina

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All the next day the shelling continued very heavily, but the British bombardment was much heavier than that of the Germans, who were aparently saving their shells to help repel further attacks. It was quite impossible to sleep in the trench, but Lieutenant H______ very thoughtfully arranged that two of us machine gunners at a time should get a spell of rest in his dug-out, some distance down the communication trench. In this way we were enabled to ghet a few hours refreshing sleep in the day time.

It was shortly after this that I was selected to act as "runner," to keep communication between the signallers and the front line position. I quite enjoyed this work, as it kept me on the move, and I could see quite a lot of what was going on. For the time being the actual advance had come to a standstill, but both sides were on the tip-toe of expectation, and there was very heavy shelling and machine gun fire, night and day. While engaged in my new duties, my right instep became very painful, and it was with difficulty that I was able to hobble about. When at length we were relieved, and went into Cocelles I was obliged to report sick, as once having taken my boot off my foot swelled so that I was unable to get it on again. The M.O. discovered that it had become poisoned and ordered me to hospital.

With a party of other wounded and sick I journeyed by motor ambulance and train to Rouen, where I was admitted to No. 3 General Hospital. This was on July 16, and on the following day I was transferred with others to No. 2 Convalescent Depot

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Here, in the Receiving Depot, I met Lionel N______, who had also been invalided from the line. On his suggestion I applied for a temporary job as a clerk in the Receiving Depot, and got it. I was certainly glad to be out of the line for a bit, as I had had nearly sixteen months continuous front line service without a days leave.

Our clerical duties were light in the daytime, but there was always a rush in the evening, when the sick and wounded were transferred from the hospital to the convalescent depot. We sat at the tables along the sides of a long hut, and took down the regimental particulars of each case as it came in. Just at this time there was a great rush of wounded, and we were kept very busy for a few hours each evening. Our sleeping accomodation was in a big marquee, and we had straw filled beds and blankets, which were a great luxury, after the mud and filth of the trenches.

My foot soon got better, but a huge sceptic boil appeared on my left leg, which was lanced every day - a very painful operation.

Several of my comanions in the Receiving Depot were very interesting, and we had long yarns at night in the marquee after "lights out." In particular were H_____ and M_____ from the 10th Battalion Royal Fusiliers. They had both been slightly wounded on July 1st. Before the war they had been engaged in business in the City, and were, of course, quite well educated.

Then there was a big Dutchman, who occupied the next bed to me. He was much older than the rest of us. As a Boer he had fought against the British in the South African War, and had now come over with the South Africans to fight for us against Germany! Incidentally he told us he had fought for the Germans in one of their native wars in Africa and gad received a medal from the German Government! He was in the Cape Town Highlanders and wore a kilt!

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Once again I seem to be unable to load any more pictures from this book, temporary fault with the forum, or limit on the amount of pictures, who knows, never had questions asked about limits of photographs answered.

So I will just continue with the Diary and hope that the fault or limit will be rectified.

Andy

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Depot Life at Rouen - So Nice - So Chatty - Home Once More - Camp Duties at Grantham - On The Regimental Police.

Early in 1916 the Machine Gun Coprps was formed, and most of us transferred to it, thopugh as we were Territorial soldiers there was no compulsion on us to do so. It did not really make much difference to us, for as long as we remained in the line, we were still attached to our old unit, and so remained with the 144th Brigade, and particularly with the 8th Worcesters. We wore a metal "M.G.C." on our shoulder straps, however, in place of the "Worcestershire," and exchanged our "Firm Star" cap badge for the crossed machine guns surmounted by a crown. About the same time shrapnel helmets (or tin-hats) became a regular part of our equipment, and in place of our two old Maxim guns we were issued with four brand new Vickers guns. The action of the Vickers is almost identical with that of the Maxim, which it now completely superseded in France, but the gun is slightly lighter, and there are several useful improvements. We now had four machine guns to each Battalion, making sixteen to each Brigade and forty-eight to the Division. All these changes came about long before the first Battle of the Somme, a little of which I described in my last article.

To return to the Convalescent Depot at Rouen, the relief I experienced at being "out of the battle" for a time, at any rate, was very great, and to get regular meals, and comfortable sleeping quarters were blessings that I heartily appreciated after nearly sixteen months continuous front line service, with all its dangers and hardships.

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We of the clerical department had our meals in a seperate hut, but we were not allowed to go outside the camp, or to visit the city of Rouen without a special pass, which could be obtained only at infrequent intervals. The camp itself, however, was pleasant enough.

There were hundreds of tents and marquees, and neat gardens had been made, with the badges of many regiments laid out in white stones. We were treated with consideration by the permament staff, especially those of us who had seen lnog service "up the line." In the evenings we had several camp concerts in the depot theatre at which I recited with considerable success. At times one could hear the rumble of the guns, though the front was far distant, and at these times and at many others my thoughts would turn towards my comrades in the trenches.

On the rare occasions on which I obtained a pass to visit the city of Rouen I enjoyed everything immensely. I remeber sitting with a comrade in front of a cafe on the water front, and watching the busy scene on the river, and the still busier scene on the quay, while on the pavement in front there passed a continual stream of soldiers and civilians. Amongst the soldiers khaki predominated, but there was a good sprinkling of the horizon blue of France, and the picturesque uniforms of the coloured French Colonial troops. There were dapper French officers, in beautifully fitting light blue tunics, some with crimson breeches, putting in the shade even the glittering members of the British Staff, with their scarlet and gold bands and tabs.

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What a contrast all this was after the trenches, and the mud and blood and filth of the Somme! On one occasion M_____ and I had tea at a restaurant run especially for the British Army by the Salvation Army. Here we regaled ourselves with sausage and "mash" with tea, sitting at ease in deck chairs in a pleasant garden at the rear of the restaurant. The price of the meal was so cheap that we were forced to the conclusion that the Salvation Army was only just about covering expenses.

On another occasion, with Jock C____ of the Royal Scots, I ascended the spire of the Cathedral, from whence we obtained a wonderful view of the town, the valley, and the river. We also saw the place where Joan of Arc was burnt alive; an incident not pleasant to dwell upon, and an everlasting disgrace to the so-called civilisation of the Middle Ages.

One afternoon, at the Depot Theatre, we attended a xapital performance by one of Miss Lena Ashwell's concert parties. The big theatre was packed from end to end with troops who were very attentive and enthusiastic in their reception of a delightful and varied programme. The pricipal attention was a performance of Barry's comedy "The Twelve Pound Look," which was extremely well acted. In this there was one unrehearsed effect. One of the characters says to another "Why do you like him?" and the reply is "He's so nice, so chatty!" this reply fairly "brought down the house" and the khaki clad audience rocked with laughter, which lasted for some minutes. The actors were at a loss, until after the show it was explained to them that "chatty" is the usual Army term for "lousy!"

[marina]

I read spomewhere that the Salvation Army were the only ones to give men coming down from the front tea and a bun for free. Even the Army charged!

Good for them!

Marina

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Early in the year I had been recommended for a commission, but I had heard no more about it since my application papers had been sent in, except that I had been told by Captain B____ that my papers had been held up at Division, probably on account of the approaching offensive. I therefore decided to move in the matter, and taking advice from a pal, I wrote direct to the Adjutant General. This, though I did not realise it at the time, was a very irregular thing to do, but it had the desired effect. There was some commotion one morning, about three days after I had sent the letter, and my name was shouted all over the camp. I hurriedly paraded myself, and before I knew quite what was happening, I found myself standing before the Commandant in the orderly room. He lectured me on the impropriety of writing direct to the Adjutant General, but I pleaded ignorance, and he was really very nice about it, and he said he would try and put things right, and that I should hear more about the commission later. I did. That night Sergeant R_____ came to me in the receiving depot, and told me that a letter had come from G.H.Q. with orders that I should be retained here until my papers for a commission came through. I was naturally very pleased, and the occasion was duly celebrated with my pals at the canteen on the following night.

Two days later my orders came through, and I left Rouen at 4.13 p.m. by train, reaching Le Havre at about 7.30. Here I boarded a packet steamer, and made the night crossing to England, arriving at Southampton after a rough passage on the morning of August 31st, just seventeen months to the very day since I had landed in France.

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I caught an early train to London, and reported to the War Office. At the entrance a police-man looked knowingly at my dirty, trench stained khaki uniform, and put a question to me in one word - "Commission?" I assured him that he had guessed it, and he immediately put me under the guidance of a Boy Scout. We ascended stairs and passed along several corridors, at length halting at a door. While we were waiting here a General and members of his staff passed, I sprang to attention and saluted. The General, in returning it, gave me a keen friendly smile. "Do you know who that was?" asks my Boy Scout, "that was General Robertson." The door opposite opened, and I entered a room as another soldier emerged from it. At a table sat an officer, to whom I handed my papers. He informed me that I must report to Worcester, and I went there by the first available train, returning to my home at Evesham later in the evening. Needless to say my parents and friends were delighted to see me, and I spent a most enjoyable month's special leave at home. The weather was grand, and I spent a great deal of time on the river.

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Towards the end of September I received instructions that I must report to Grantham, the headquarters of the Machine Gun Coprps, and I journeyed there on September 29th, by train, via Birmingham, Derby and Nottingham. I changed trains at Birmingham, and had hardly settled myself in a compartment of the Derby train, when a woman, much under the influence of drink, got into the carriage. She was very talkative, and made such a nuisance of herself, that I quietly sliiped out of the carriage, and got into another, in which the only other occupants were two middle aged male civilians. Hearing a noise outside, I looked out of the window, and saw the drunken woman wandering about the platform and addressing the world at large. Several station officials came to her, and tried to reason with her, and to my annoyance, just as the train was starting, pushed her into the carriage in which I had taken refuge. She carried on a lively though muddled conversation with the two civilians for a long while, and they seemed to derive some amusement from chaffing her. After a time she turned to me, with "Well, soldier, you don't say much." I replied that she did not give anyone else much chance. She shouted and sang most of the rest of the way to Derby, where she got out. My two civilian companions expressed their relief, and commented on the fact that a drunken woman always seemed worse that a drunken man. I changed stations at Nottingham and arrived in Grantham in the early evening. At Nottingham I fell in with another machine gunner, and we reported together at Harrowby Camp, where we were allotted a hut for the night.

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That first evening in Grantham I spent with my new acquaintance. We visited a small public house where he had friends, and spent the evening there playing skittles and darts. On the following morning I reported at the orderly room, but they knew nothing about me, and I was told I should have to wait until orders came through form the War Office. Here I met C_____, a trooper from the 10th Hussars, who, like myslef, hed been recommended for a commission while in France, and was awaiting orders to be posted to a cadet unit. We moved into a hut together, and were employed for a time on various fatigues, until we discovered a way in which we could dodge most of these usually disagreeable tasks. At four o'clock each afternoon we were free to leave the camp, unless we were detailed for guard duty. Often we had tea at the Soldiers Home, and then visited the Empire, where they had both plays and variety shows, or one of the two picture houses in the town. One Saturday afternoon (Saturday was a half holiday) we wlaked to Foston, a village some six miles out, and had tea there. There was a very high wind blowing, and on our return journey, just as we were passing some elms by the side of the road, we heard a loud rending noise, and ran for all we were worth, just as a big elm tree crashed across the road behind us. We both remarked how ironical it would have been had we been killed by the tree after escaping the dangers of the front for such a long time.

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C_____ and I were detailed for a twenty four hours guard over a prisoner at Belton Park, on Saturday, October 21st. We were quartered in a marquee at the back of the hospital, and it was certainly a "cushy" guard. In fact, we watched a football match in the afternoon, and also saw a very fine herd of fallow deer in the park. We were relieved at 11.30 a.m. the following day, and celebrated the occasion by having sausage and "mash" at the Soldiers home at Grantham in the evening, afterwards going to church. The next guard we did at Belton Park was of a different nature. We were put in a big ward at the hospital to look after a man who was suffering badly from shell-shock. It was the first case of its kind I had seen. He was unable to keep a limb still, and quite unable to hold a fork to eat with. At night we took it in turns to be on duty, and the Sister in charge of the ward gave us an easy chair, and let us sit in front of the stove.