by Peter Hart
For the German soldiers the commencement of the bombardment was the beginning of a living nightmare that they would need every ounce of their luck to survive. One of the men that faced the deluge of shells was Private Eversmann of the 26th Reserve Division which held the Wundtwerk Redoubt to the south of Thiepval.
They went at it left and right with heavy calibre guns and hammered us with shrapnel and light calibre pieces. Only with difficulty and distress have we obtained rations today. Two of my comrades got fatal hits while fetching dinner. The uncertainty is hard to bear. They have just found another of my comrades on his way back from ration carrying, Drummer Ollesch, of Gelschenkirchen, a dear chap, three days back from leave and there he’s gone.40
Private Eversmann, 26th Reserve Division, German Army
The Germans did not relish the treatment they were getting. For them the sheer uncertainty was very much part of a choking mental pressure that would inexorably build up as the bombardment continued.
The barrage has now lasted thirty-six hours. How long will it go on? Nine o’clock: a short pause of which we avail ourselves to bring up coffee, each man got a portion of bread. Ten o’clock: veritable drum fire. In twelve hours shelling they estimate that 60,000 shells have fallen on our battalion sector. Every communication with the rear has been cut, only the telephone is working. When will they attack—tomorrow or the day after? Who knows?41
Private Eversmann, 26th Reserve Division, German Army
The Germans had dreadful problems in getting food and supplies forward as the infra-structure that fed their front lines was battered to pieces. Yet although inconvenienced and threatened they always managed to find a way to get enough forward to keep the men going.
The second day goes on in the same way. Again no hot food comes and the order is given to break out the iron ration. Now we become aware of the usage of the special iron rations kept in the platoon commander’s dugout. The bread of course was not exactly fresh and rumour had it that not all the meat rations could be found. But at least it gave something for the stomach. When the fire went on through the third day we began to look at the situation as critical. It appeared they wanted first to starve us and then to shoot us out of our positions. Luckily we could still obtain water from the wells in the position in Thiepval, the use of which had been prohibited for drinking as they were suspected to be contaminated. Now it was a help in an emergency. On the evening of the third day a message came: food will arrive. The organisation began to work. Food was brought on detours around all the villages and viable roads which were under heavy fire. First with motorcars from a distance and then on foot in large containers. Now we could watch the development for a while longer.42
Lieutenant F. L Cassel, 99th Infantry Reserve Regiment, 26th Reserve Division, German Army
There is no doubt that the conditions the German troops endured were uncomfortable in the extreme but, crucially, they were not exposed in open trenches. The vast majority were deep in the bowels of the earth. And there were simply not enough heavy high explosive shells to crack open the reinforced concrete bunkers.
We now, to our cost, became the target for the heaviest calibre. The English were damned cautious. They wanted to be sure of overkill. Nobody should be alive when their infantry left their trenches. One afternoon, while I was lying on my wire bedstead, I heard the dull boom of a heavy gun, the awesome whizz and swish of a rising heavy missile, then the earth was quaking, and while dirt was falling through the boards, I saw the beams above the bend and slowly descend by about 10 centimetres. My heart seemed to stop, now comes the end ...But the catastrophe did not come. After the momentary paralysis was gone I left my bed and went into the trench. Rather me in the open air than be crushed between the boards. In the evening I went and inspected the rampart above my dugout and found a crater with a diameter of several metres, made by a 21—cm shell—a dud! Had it exploded whoever was in the dugout would not have seen daylight—not before the day of resurrection.43
Lieutenant F. L. Cassel, 99th Infantry Reserve, 26th Reserve Division Regiment, German Army
The Germans were exhausted, they were scared and anxious, but they were ready.
We were tired and slept as much as one could. The noise of the barrage was too monotonous and so prevented sleep for over-tired people. There was only one harassing question—could one rely on the sentries? They stood on the top steps of the dugout and had to watch lest the fire was changed to the rear and had to look in quieter moments across the ramparts whether the enemy was not coming across. Day-long, night-long. And not all men are heroes, so from time to time one had to go up to see whether the sentries did their duty. After five or six days, it seemed like becoming a permanent state of affairs. Won’t the scoundrels ever come to the end of this terrible game of waiting? No, they did not!44
Lieutenant F. L. Cassel, 99th Infantry Reserve Regiment, 26th Reserve Division, German Army
The German soldiers may have experienced a large number of close escapes but for the most part those in the dugouts remained relatively unscathed as a military force ready to be deployed in a matter of minutes into whatever remained of the trench strong points above.
On the whole we had very few casualties: some sentries were wounded and in one dugout that was partly squashed there were some deaths and seriously wounded. But the company on the whole, and my platoon in particular, kept its battle strength, thanks to the superior quality of our construction of the position. But how long could this last? We had been in the front line already for weeks. More than a week we had lived with the deafening noise of the battle. Dull and apathetic we were lying in our dugouts, secluded from life, but prepared to defend ourselves whatever the cost.45
Lieutenant F. L. Cassel, 99th Infantry Reserve Regiment, 26th Reserve Division, German Army
AS THE MOMENT approached for the attack, every corps, division and brigade had been assigned its place in the battle line and begun preparing its plans tailored to the exact local situations. There was a great deal of responsibility in their work. All were clearly aware that mistakes would cost lives. As the commanders gazed at the task that lay before them many began to wonder whether the artillery bombardment really would be the panacea that would cure all the ills that seemed to threaten. One amongst many was Brigadier Rees, in command of the 94th Brigade in the 31st Division, who found himself on the left of the main assault.
One of my criticisms of the general plan of operations was that the time allowed for the capture of each objective was too short. I had a severe argument with Hunter Weston before I induced him to give the an extra ten minutes for the capture of an orchard, 300 yards beyond the village of Serre. I was looked upon as something of a heretic for saying that everything had been arranged for, except for the unexpected, which usually occurs in war. The short space of time allowed for the capture of each objective made it essential for the whole of my brigade, with the exception of three companies, to advance at Zero hour, otherwise they would not reach the positions assigned to them at the time laid down. In twenty minutes, I had to capture the first four lines of trenches in front of Serre. After a check of twenty minutes, I was allowed forty minutes to capture Serre, a village 800 yards deep, and twenty minutes later to capture an orchard on a knoll 300 yards beyond. My criticisms on these points are not altogether a case of being wise after the event, I did not like them at the time, but I do not profess to have foreseen the result of these arrangements should a failure occur. A great spirit of optimism prevailed in all quarters.46
Brigadier General Hubert Rees, Headquarters, 94th Brigade, 31st Division
Gradually the orders for the assault were being passed around the infantry. Young officers desperately tried to assimilate the minutiae of detail, to commit the layout of the ground and German defences to memory and to assess the probability of success. Optimism was undoubtedly widespread. As they gazed on the masses of shells falling on the German lines there seemed to be every chance of a relatively painless success
.
No great difficulty was anticipated in the successful accomplishment of these operations, for it was calculated that Beaumont Hamel and the Hun front trench system would be practically obliterated by our artillery preparation. There was already an increasing volume of gunfire directed on to that area and this was to grow in intensity day by day until it reached a pitch quite unprecedented and almost undreamt of. This was very encouraging, especially to those of us who had gone through the dark days at Ypres, where we hadn’t a shell to bless ourselves with. Now we were going to get a bit of our own back. Surely no human opposition could withstand that terrible avalanche of shell fire. The task of us infantry would be easy after this. We should simply walk over, the Boche defences would be hopelessly disorganised, the remnants of the defenders would be captured without difficulty, we should engage his reserves in the open and set them trekking back Rhinewards at the double!47
Lieutenant William Colyer, 2nd Battalion. Royal Dublin Fusiliers, 10th Brigade, 4th Division
The perils of tomorrow could be buried beneath the confidence of youth, and the ability to ignore the future that marks out those with little experience of life.
The shadow of impending disaster certainly did not rest upon us during the last days of the preparation. We sat in our company billet and laughed and talked and smoked and sang and drank and retold evil stories and won money at bridge (and lost it again at poker) and otherwise conducted ourselves after the usual and well-established custom of high-spirited subalterns.48
Lieutenant William Colyer, 2nd Battalion, Royal Dublin Fusiliers, 10th Brigade, 4th Division
After all they were only part of the great scheme of things and many took comfort from being a mere cog in a mighty wheel. Whatever would happen to them would happen to all of them, and whatever they had to face in No Man’s Land they would not be alone. Their friends would be with them every step of the way.
One man’s part on any move nowadays is so small that he is not likely to be nervous about the effect of his work in the final result. Fortunately the habit of ‘carrying on’, that immortal phrase, is by this time so ingrained in him that he will be able to do it. And no one should forget that a free throwing of yourself into a forward move gives the thing a momentum that nothing else can, beyond any mechanical discipline. If the least thoughtful could analyse his feelings, he would say, I suppose, that provided he was hitting hard he did not care what happened to him. And the men who are going to be knocked out in the push—there must be many—should not certainly be looked on with pity, because going forward with resolution and braced muscles puts a man in a mood to despise consequences; he is out to give more than he gets, he really dies fighting. A man who is used to sport, takes things, even in the great chance of life and death, as part of the game.49
Second Lieutenant Roland Ingle, 10th Battalion, Lincolnshire Regiment, 101st Brigade, 34th Division
As the men steeled themselves there was a definite wish to get it all over with—one way or another—to resolve the unanswerable questions that surrounded them. Only then could they attain some kind of peace.
We got so fed up—to the point that we thought, ‘The quicker the bloody whistles go for us to go over the top the better!’ We always said to one another, ‘Well, it’s a two to one chance that we either get bowled over or get wounded and go home’. One of the two—that’s all we used to bother. We got so browned off with the waiting, the weather, you can’t really explain what it was like. Doing your bit and hoping for the best.50
Private Ralph Miller, 1/8th Battalion, Warwickshire Regiment, 143rd Brigade, 48th Division
Unfortunately, as the bombardment continued the onset of poor weather severely hampered the efforts of the Royal Flying Corps to carry out their artillery observation duties and to take the vital aerial photographs needed to chart the effects of the shelling. Although the Royal Artillery increased their rate of fire to try and compensate, they could not match the accuracy of firing assisted by aerial observation. Eventually it was decided to extend the artillery bombardment by a further two days in the hope that the weather would improve. As can be imagined this postponement was not welcomed by the infantry.
We were all ready and anxious to get away, to get up and moving and done with the waiting. Waiting is rotten. I think it tries the nerves more than the actual moment of assault. Then one has action, movement, a hundred things to strive for and to occupy one’s attention. But, in waiting, there is nothing but anxiety and fruitless speculation on every phase conceivable. But we had not moved. At the last moment came an order, ‘Stand by!’ And so here we are still, the artillery pounding on as ever and we left, with speculation rife, and rumours bright and rumours grave, flying about on all sides, to twiddle our thumbs and wonder.51
Captain Charles May, 22nd Battalion, Manchester Regiment, 91st Brigade, 7th Division
So the bombardment continued into the sixth and seventh days, stretching and depleting the huge shell dumps still further.
The bombardment still goes on. Mametz, they tell us, has ceased to be. The Hun should be getting pretty well fed up. Indeed from the statements of various prisoners and deserters it would appear certain that he is. Nearly six days of the most appalling bombardment he has had now—a thing calculated to shake the morale of the finest troops in the world. It destroys sleep and interferes with rationing. Lack of either of these always affects a soldier. If his old machine gunners have only suffered in proportion to his other ranks we should not be too seriously hurt doing our job. We are all agog with expectancy, all quietly excited and strung to a pitch, but unhesitatingly I record that our only anxiety is that we will all do our job well. That is but natural. This is the greatest thing the battalion or any of us have ever been in.52
Captain Charles May, 22nd Battalion, Manchester Regiment, 91st Brigade, 7th Division
On 30 June the battalions began to move forward. The mood of the men was not bad on the whole. Many were understandably nervous but they jollied each other along and collectively managed to put on a good show.
We knew that quite a lot of us would be casualties on the morrow, we knew what was going to happen and it was interesting to see the different responses of the different soldiers. One man he would go away on his own, communicate with himself somewhere and he seemed rather moody. I tried to cheer him up. Others again they put on a form of jollification. When the march started up there towards the line it was all happy and ‘Long way to Tipperary’—biscuit tins being hammered—and all jollification like that to keep up the spirits.53
Private James Tansley, 9th Battalion, York and Lancaster Regiment, 70th Brigade, 23rd Division
Those who were left behind found themselves in a peculiarly invidious position as they watched their comrades preparing for battle without them. Lieutenant Edgar Lord watched helplessly as his friend Lieutenant Ivan Doncaster went forward without him to face his destiny.
Handshakes were given, goodbyes were said and I turned away with a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes, as if I had a foreboding of events to come, and deploring the fact that I was not allowed to go with my friends.54
Lieutenant Edgar Lord, 15th Battalion, Lancashire Fusiliers, 96th Brigade, 32nd Division
Different songs stirred different emotions both within the men and those watching. Even the most banal of lyrics were given significance when sung by a company of men marching in unison to an unknown fate. Those who watched them go found themselves strangely stirred.
Our battalion was moved back a little way into reserve trenches and another battalion took our place in the front line ready to go over the top at dawn next day. As they passed us on their way to take up their positions, they were all lustily singing a sentimental song of the period, which was not only pathetic, but, as it transpired, was also prophetic. It went thus:
Break the news to Mother
Tell there is no other.
Tell her not to wait for me
For I’m not coming home.
In the case of most of them, how true that turned out to be! Since then, to hear that song again has always brought a lump to my throat.55
Private Albert Atkins, 1/7th Battalion, Middlesex Regiment, 167th Brigade, 56th Division
The men were heavily laden as they carried with them everything they would need next morning when they went over the top.
As they passed through Foncquevillers the various platoons drew their supplies of bombs, grenades, barbed wire, spades, picks, sandbags, and all the various paraphernalia essential for a modern attack. After this, a short rest was allowed, in the little tree-surrounded orchards which still survived, wild and tangled, on the outskirts of the ruined village. There, sitting on the sandbags they were to carry, they rested and waited, eating enormous bacon sandwiches—the ration which caused so much amusement when issued, destined to be, for many, their last meal. Presently came the Padre, asking permission to say a few short prayers, preparatory to proceeding to the trenches. Just two simple prayers, one of which began, ‘Lord God of Battles’, then the Lord’s Prayer, said very humbly, very earnestly, and very reverently by all, and last the voice of the Padre half-drowned by the din of the guns, ‘The Blessing ...Almighty ...upon you ...now and for evermore’.56
Lieutenant C.W.Wood, 1/7th Battalion, Sherwood Foresters, 139th Brigade, 46th Division
The army commanders could do little at this stage to impact on what would happen in just a few short hours. What would be would be. The attack could not be cancelled, plans could no longer be changed. Mistakes could no longer be rectified without making the situation far worse. It was now down to the ordinary soldiers to go over the top and overcome whatever lay before them. Haig and his generals had fashioned their plans to the very best of their abilities but it remained an enormous responsibility that they bore alone in their beds that night. Inevitably they chose to be optimistic.