Lieut. Hugh Montagu Butterworth (Memorial Book)

[marina]

Lt. Butterworth has considerable sangfroid, doesn't he?

Marina

[Greyhound]

Exactly the word I was looking for, Marina. "A quaint sensation" indeed! I love "slight preference given to profanity" as well.

[marina]

"On the whole I am rather disappointed with the noise of the bombardment from our end. We are very near about 100 guns I should say, and one can talk in quite a low voice."

Marina

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Andy,

This is one and the same, privately published.

Andy

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8.45

(Can't find out whether day or night). Have you ever gone round the corner of a traverse and found a very dead Englishman lying exactly as he fell with his sword fixed in front of him on the firing platform ? Don't do it as an experience. It almost put me off my "brekker."

We've been working like niggers since five getting the trench a little safer. By to-night I think we'el have eliminated the more serious danger. I already have quite a decent dug-out. This trench has been held by various people X + Y times. We've found everything in the Army and Navy catalogue except a grand piano. We have garnered in 15,000 rounds already, and all sorts of tunics and lots of bodies and things. We have just been bringing in a man killed last night. One of my platoon produced a prayer book and all was well. By the way - do you ever read "Watch Dogs" in Punch ? That is the very trench I was in a fortnight or so ago for instruction. A quiet soft place, very different from the present gay spot ! Do you remember the incident of the "Verrey Pistol" he tells. A "Verrey Pistol" is a pistol one shoots flares up with. It does no one any harm. Eh bien ! The Germans had been a frightful nuisance one afternoon and these coves wanted a sleep, and so a fellow in a rage seized a "Verrey Pistol" and fired it off. The Germans obviously thought it a new form of frighfulness and at once ceased fire and went to bed likewise. I can vouch for this yarn because I was there ! Continue later. My sergeant is taking over in two hours, so I'll get some shut eye as I've been up all night and shall be until relieved. Incidentally I see Gresson has been wounded.

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Monday.

Another very fairly sultry evening. On the whole Sunday was quiet. Towards evening there was a certain amount of shelling. Just about 10.30 our Ration Party went out and did'nt get back till 2 and had a pretty gay time. However I wasn't there. At about 10.15 p.m. I was sent for by the Commanding Officer and told to take a note to a cove in another trench. I was given a guide but he lost his way in a woolly maze of blown up trenches with dead all over the place. Fortunately we dropped into the right trench. You see this part is recently captured and there are very bad communication trenches as yet. We thought we were dished as star shells went up and though we lay as still as mice they flung some shells near us. Well - I had to stay in this trench all night on some duty and a very nice night we had ! A dug-out was blown in and deveral men killed. We got about three shells and trench mortars plumb in the trench and lost some men and one poor fellow had an arm blown off and I think died. The stretchers couldn't be got through properly and I had to go back once and bring the bearers up. Personally I prefer open ground at night to bad communication trenches. They know the latter and can shell them. But in the open you can put your ears back and run, tripping over barbed wire and corpses. Well - finally I had to bring a man back to our trench and told him I was running for it. We picked up two stray men who wanted to get back, and we ran like sin and jumped into a bit of communication trench plumb on top of a ration parrty coming up ! Horrid struggle. I forgot to say that earlier on I flung myself down to avoid a star-shell and landed on a corpse. Mon dieu ! We've been losing men pretty consistently the last 36 hours - mostly shell-fire but a few sniped. I managed to snatch an hour's sleep towards morning. I shall probably have to take out a ration part to-night - a rotten job as the Germans shell all the roads and trenches on chance. The men are very cheerful. I hope they relieve us in four days as its very messy work. Continue later.

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8.45 p.m. (probably Monday)

A pretty moderate day. I got a certain amount of rest till 9 and then had to reconnoitre with the Major (one of God's good men) to find the best place to get a communication trench through to the company somewhere in front. The present trench is very bad. We simply waded about among dead Englishmen and Germans, in fearfully decomposed state. Horrible ! We then went back and turned out the whole company to get to work on the trench. It was in dead ground mostly and we escaped notice for 2 1/2 hours. A burial party carried on in front and all but one (23 out of 24) were physically sick, but they stuck it out splendidly. I had just given the burying party orders to come in when the Germans spotted us from a balloon they sent up, and they got our range about the second shot. I got the men back along the trench in about five minutes - none hit - under fairly severe shelling. You can have no idea of the awful state of a captured trench. It has probably had three hours heavy bombardment to start with and been knocked to bits, and of course there are dead men in all sotrs of conditions without legs, arms, etc. One man I found naked. Then of course there's equipment, rifles etc. of all sorts. The men get used to horrors after a bit and collect souvenirs as they call them. I'm afraid I have by no means done with horrors for the day as I believe I'm going with some Scotchmen to go on burying.

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Later (date unknown)

Such is the extraordinary effect of this work and the want of sleep that I have been trying to decide whether it was yesterday or the day before that I finished the lines above. After mature consideration I've come to the conclusion that it was last night. Well - I went out with the Scotchmen and we dug in a lot of corpses. So much for that ! I incidentally we had a pretty pretty lively bombardment in the evening. I got an hour's sleep before we "Stood to" and after that function I dashed off to my sergeant and a corporal to try and find some badly needed sand-bags that had been dumped down somewhere by a party last night. There are few couples in the British Army that move quicker or more doubled-up than my sergeant and I when in shallow trench under fire from snipers. After a bit we ran into gas but had not time for reespirators and our eyes streamed. We picked up connection with a youthful subaltern, fixed up a carrying party back to the accompaniment of sniping and then had to get them passed on to A and B Companies in front. I took forty men laden with food and sand-bags and we dumped the things down and then had to stand by for a bit wedged in a narrow trench. We got back fir and well. We are getting this place in great order. When we came in, it was hopelessly unsafe and full of dead. Now we have cut communication trenches all over the place, but we lost a good few men. However the work had to be done. The men have worked splendidly - to-day - for instance having gone a little wrong, we've had no water, but no one is growling. I'm awfully pleased with my bunch. I've come to the conclusion that I never lived till I breakfasted, (as I did this morning) after forty-eight hours of almost continuous work in a crazy dug-out, on a hard boiled egg, some bread and neat whisky. Continue later.

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Wednesday, 4 a.m.

At about six in the evening we were suddenly told that we were for a stunt taking a redoubt. Our company was in "support," (fortunately !) Affairs started at seven-thirty. We began an intensive bombardment and the Germans came at us with equal intensity. Believe anything you are told about concentrated artillery fire. To say I've never been in anything the hundredth part so terrific is merely banal. How can I describe it ? It is very like every noise you ever heard, crashing over your head. I suppose, - this is true talk, ten or twenty shells passed over or burst all round us per second - we were ordered simply to lie "doggo" at the bottom of the trench. This lasted for two and a half hours. For the first half hour one was imminent fear of death. Sand and earth fell on you in heaps. The air and earth trembled and shook withal. For the next half hour you rather hoped you would be finished off. It would be easier you thought. Mind you, one's nerves are a bit on edge after four practically sleepless nights - or is it five ? I forget. Then you thought "well hang it, if I hav'nt been scuppered yet, I may as well carry on." I was in a traverse with a corporal of mine - a great nut, a most independent cove, who in times of excitement becomes delightfully familiar and says "This is a bit of 'orl right, eh ?" and so on. He also possesses "guts." After an hour the battalions on the left and the right moved. We supported with rapid fire and machine guns, and were receiving a terrific fire. By midnight things quietened down though the most mysterious things were happening. We were getting quite a brisk fire from a quarter where no Germans should have been and a subaltern in the left reports much the same - but we call him a liar ! I may say that in the midst of all these things we had a ration party half a mile away, more or less concealed, dumping rations. At about two o'clock there enters a weary subaltern from C Company who had been having a terrible time.

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Owing to blunders, two of their platoons had been caught by the bombardment in the wrong place and had been badly hit. He'd got a lot of wounded, he said, and could not get them away. The genial task of getting off with ten men fell to me. I started off in the dark and could not pick up the right communication trench. Flares were going up and we were lying on our stomachs when a jovial fellow came out of the mirk and said that he would get me down. Off we went, lying down in pools and bending double. When we got down to the road - this is quite unintelligible geography, but it can't be helped - I met our Sergeant Major - a splendid man - who apologized to me in the sort of tone he would use on Barrack Square and said he had got all the wounded away and I wasn't wanted. So we sarted back and finally reached the communication trench. We found it was blocked by C Company. I tried to get a message up, but couldn't, so we darted back and tried for another. We found it had been knocked right in by shell fire. I collected my party in the safest place I could find and sent out a man in the communication trench. Later I went myself and as I couldn't get them on and it was growing light. I brought my men up over them and got them in. Mind you, all this time we had only to be seen to be shelled off the earth and flares were going up all the time. On getting back I thought the situation warranted a neat whisky for myself and my corporal. Incidentally I'm covered with mud and wet through.

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8.30 p.m. (Date unstated)

Well, we're not being relieved to-night and have to stick together twenty-four hours. We've had a good deal of shelling but nothing continuous. I have got three hours sleep, but otherwise we've been working sans cesse building up where we were hit last night and so on. The ration question is very difficult in a trench like this, our position is such that we are further from the base than any other trench of this line. We work it like this - our transport bring up the stuff nightly to about one and a half miles away. We send down a whole company under two officers, they are always shelled, and they bring it up to us. We then divide it up and parties have to take up the rations to two companies in the front. That's over the explored bit where I spent my early hours burying and digging. We've had rain and the trenches are filthy. We're all sitting down in the trench at present as the shells are coming fairly frequently. I am coated with mud, feet soaking of course, but that ceases to worry, and bound about the waist with a waterproof sheet. We lost two offices killed and one wounded, and a good few men, last night.

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Thursday, 7.30 a.m.

We seem unable to avoid thrills these days. We expected trouble all yesterday. Bosche aeroplanes were looking at us all day and they were taking our range systematically by single shots from Machine guns and occasionally trying a ranger and getting terribly near, bursting our parapet in one place. Well, in the morning we heard we were not going to be relieved, so we waited on as it got dark for their bombardment to start. We had a good many shells but no real bombardment. We could hardly believe our luck. I was on duty till midnight and I had just come off when our delighful little major hustled down and with the air of a man imparting cheery tidings told us that a message had come through that a number of Germans had got through between two of our trenches, and we might expect an attack. This sort of thing sounds incredible but the trenches do not run on parrallel lines. The there are lines of trenches unoccupied (except by the dead) and altogether you wouldn't be surprised at anything happening. Anyhow, there it was, so we all "stood to" and looked out. In my anxiety to give the Germans a cheery reception I told my platoon to fix swords (you'd call the bayonets but I am an RB) and the message went right along the company past headquarters.

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It appears I was wrong, and messages came hurtling down the line "Who gave the order to fix swords ?" I put on my best countenance and waded up to Headquarters and told the commanding officer I was the culprit, having contravened army order 3241 paragraph 14 (a) (i) !! However the commanding officer was very nice and explained the "whys" and "wherefores" and we parted on excellent terms. News soon came that the report of the Germans was false, se we stood down. The awful part of the work is the ghastly weariness. Imagine five whole days - each lasting twenty-four hours to the minute - when you are on the stretch the whole time. Add to that, that you are very dirty - probably wet. Add to that the fact that water doesn't get up perhaps in proper quantities. Add to that that in a small rough trench like this you eat anyhow in a small cavern in the earth, lying flat when shells arrive. Add to that the men are so tired sometimes that you have to pull them up when they fall asleep at "stand to." Do we earn 7/6 a day ?

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Later, (time not stated)

The worst has happened, I've broken both available pipes. Later. Out of trenches. To conclude, we've been out two days now. Our getting out was an absolute miracle. We were to be relieved at eleven p.m. At twelve o'clock there was no sign - my watch ended, so I turned in. At twleve fifteen we had a gas alarm. I was pulled out by my boots by an enthusiatic rifleman. It turned out to be very mild, so I slept again. At two o'clock I was again led out and told that A. and B. were being relieved, then C. and we were to leave after them. Of course it was almost daylight. Well, I was the last platoon to leave, so I sat in a mud wall at the head of my platoon and waited. I was so certain that we were bound to be cut up that I didn't mind a button about anything. So much that I had my one and only breeze with my company commander. The fault was entirely mine and I must have been extremely irritating. Well, at three o'clock we got away. By the most terrific luck a thick mist came down, of course it was broad daylight otherwise and we waded off. We had coats on, fullish packs and a shovel. I had a shovel and a rifleman. My sergeant led and I brought up the rear. My orders to the sergeant were to leg it as hard as he could go. We disdained trenches. Trusting to the mist we moved across the open to the road and moved down it like race-horses.

[marina]

A bumper read today - thanks, Andy!

I think Hugh INVENTED sangfroid!

Marina

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When we reached ________ we knew the worst was over. No shells were particularly near one and we lost no men at all. After that I had rather a nasty shock. I jested the men through the town - or what was once a town - and on passing safely through issued the historic order - "Thank God, and go easy." I then got hold of a military policeman to find out the way. At that unfortunate moment up popped the Colonel who told me we were marching like the Grenadiers - which, he as a Gurkha - regards as a horrid insult. I apologized and told him that we had made the trip in record time and mollified him somewhat. All was plain sailing after that. We marched six or seven miles more and here we are in a delightful town awfully comfortable. We are fairly leading the life, hot baths and beer are the chief attractions. I hope this is fairly intelligible. We ought to get a week off. On re-reading this I think I exaggerate my importance in the scheme of things. This letter merely tells my own jobs. Every other officer has other jobs all the time, so don't delude yourself into thinking that I do anything more than attempt to run a platoon.

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Marina,

Glad that you are enjoying it. All these memorial books have a different feel about them which is great.

Andy

[liverpool annie]

You know - when you first started Andy ..... I wasn't sure if I liked him or not !!

He seemed such a "big head" .......... but now I'm in his corner !! ....... Thanks my friend for sharing Hugh with us !!

Annie

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Hi Annie,

Know what you mean, but, I am glad that you have warmed to him. I sometimes think it is just excitement and the whole experience as a whole that leads one to maybe regard him as such, who knows.

Andy

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July 2nd, 1915.

I hope you don't get over-deluged with my letters, but it's a great joy when one gets a moment's quiet, to sit down and retail one's moderate adventures. Yesterday I had a noteworthy day. I was awakened at midnight by our sergeant-major with a note from Headquarters to say I had to start off at seven o'clock with fifty men in motor lorries to _______ (that dear old famous spot I'm always going through, you must have guessed it by now.) We turned out at the said hour and at seven o'clock we were tooling off down the road, the men in lorries, Butterworth in a "Sunbeam" belonging to the ASC. We reached the spot and waited a bit on the railway station and was joined by a signalling subaltern, who like all the casual men and children I drop upon here, was a ripper. We strolled off. A certain amount of shelling was going on in other parts of the town - I'm not putting on side - one really does not mind now provided it's a street or two away. We had to dig a trench for the telephone wires, linking up batteries, a most necessary thing as they get blown to bits and communication is lost. We had to take this line through the heart of the town or ruin, as it is now. After some time a Major man came up and looked on and opined that we were digging a trench. According to orders I merely stood at attention and said "Yes, Sir."

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He waited a bit and passed on. Enter in one minute two artillery officers - both with eye glases - and two sergeants. "Did I know the man?" "No," well, they thought he was a spy, no one knew his face. So I gathered in my revolver and off we sprang. We failed to find him. About two hours after I saw the man coming through again. So I approached him with drawn revolver (isn't this a good yarn?) told him that I was sorry but I must stop him and take him back to be identified. I called out two riflemen as a guard. Of course they fairly loved it - so did I. I then marched him off to a captain of engineers and he questioned him. Finally he seemed satisfied and let him go. I wasn't satisfied at all and followed him up on the quiet, I struck some artillery men and asked them if they knew him. "Oh! yes," they said, "He's our Major!!" So i've arrested a full blown Major: However when I reported the matter, I was told I'd done absolutely right. In this war anyone can arrest anyone on ssuspicion and nothing is said. In fact it is the only way with spies in uniform all over the country. Rather funny though, wasn't it ? We had a smoke for dinner and a swim in the moat, ripping. There must be a lot of corpses therein but that did'nt worry me at all. Every now and then I darted off and examined the townand had a good look at the cathedral and ................ in ruins, of course. The place is more or less looted by now but you can pick up more or less what you want for the asking. We went back to our lorries and I went out to play bridge with some men in another regiment. So ended a good day. We're having a fine rest. I suppose we go to the trenches again at the end of the week.

[Greyhound]

Enjoying this, Andy, thank you.

(Oh dear, though, the spy episode has brought back memories of Blackadder! )

[marina]

Poor Major!

I think Hugh's insouciance is a style of speaking fashionable at the time and designed to 'downplay' experience and allow a man to get on with things. I imagine speaking with an insolent drawl!

Marina

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July 5th, 1915.

Still sleeping ! One begins to wonder what has happened to the war. True they shell the town occasionally and we see wounded coming through, but we ourselves still lead delectable lives. Yesterday - being Sunday - we went forth on nags to the Oxford and Bucks. Having lunched - we played cricket ! A wonderful pitch of course but great fun. We made ninety-six, the Waganui willow-welder taking a scratchin quintette. It was terrifically hot. Then they journeyed to the wickets and Butterworth (not captain I may say) bowled unchanged and snaffled seven wickets. They beat us by two wickets. We then returned "au gallop" to our billets. I had a delightful pony that pulled like the very mischief. On the whole a great day. At present I'm riddled with mosquito bites, the brutes. The only stuff I can get for it is Eau-de-Cologne which isn't very effective. We had a genial evening last night sub luna. Divers genial sports rolled into out bivouac and we ran through every comic opera from San Toy to Rag-time. We always sing at our meals and during bombardments. I've got a wonderful rifleman in my platoon. My priceless sergeant said to me one day "You know Sir, I don't think Quick is right in the head, very religious man Sir." The aforementioned Quick uses the biggest words known. He always says "declivity" instead of "slope" and when in the trenches the other day, I asked him what the _______ he was doing - this being the military form of interrogation, he confided to me that he was making an "aperture." I wish we could get some more officers sent over. We started with thirty-one, and have lost six one way or another, and two are off on special jobs. There remain twenty-three including the commanding officer, second in command and the adjutant. Result - that we are continually out for trouble in the trenches. However, I expect officers are not too easy to come by these days. Not much news but I daresay a regualr budget will turn up this mail for me.

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Friday, July 10th (9th),

aux trenches, 9.30 a.m.

There is a so called bombardment going on. I don't think much of it at present, but as we have to be more or less umbraging, I can scratch a line. I just dash up and down the line now and then between frighfulness to see that parapets remain standing and that the men are awake.

We 'came in' last night in the true military style. Everything was mapped out to the square inch and we came cheerily up. I came with some of the men on O.S. waggons. We had to drive about ten miles, and then detached and had a hasty meal. The we toddled off, Butterworth rather taking it in the neck as he was leading and moved off at 8 p.m. as per orders, but omitted to send orderly to adjutant to report departure. However he wasn't unduly moved. On reaching ______ (our old friend) we were met bu our Company Commanders who had gone ahead, with the news that all arrangements were washed out, and everything had to be done differently. That was a jolly situation when you're in Shellville and comapnies are marching at fifteen minutes interval. Followed a scene of unparalleled profanity. Tandem we got re-sorted. Fortunately it was a particularly quiet night, off we got. We then tooled off over the open - dead ground - and then went through about two miles of communication trench - a wearisome performance as they're so narrow. However we got in safely and "took ove" in approved style. About ten minutes later we got a parapet blown in, bot no one was hurt. I rather objected to its being the parapet I was behind at the moment.