by Peter Hart
The primacy of the guns meant that the Battle of Arras would prove a particular trial for the RFC, charged with photographing the battlefield to record every new development and flying endless artillery observation missions to direct the guns on which the operations depended. The problem for the RFC was that the battle had come too early in the year for them to upgrade their sadly ageing aircraft with new models better able to hold their own against the new German aircraft such as the Albatros scout. The basic BE2 C army co-operation aircraft had done sterling work since its inception back in 1914, but it was now hopelessly outclassed: too slow and unable to manoeuvre or defend itself. Its intended replacement, the RE8, had been delayed and was only just beginning to arrive on the Western Front in early 1917. This meant that the latest upgraded versions of the BE2 C would have to struggle on for a few more months before they could be replaced. Multi-purpose aircraft like the FE2 B and the Sopwith 1½ Stutter were also showing their age. The British scouts were also lagging behind their German counterparts. The DH2, the FE8 and the Sopwith Pup, were all inadequate and although the French supplied the excellent Nieuport 17 and Spad VII to help in the interval before the next generation of British scouts arrived, the gap still loomed large. Trenchard was livid.
You are asking me to fight the battle this year with the same machines as I fought it last year. We shall be hopelessly outclassed, and something must be done. I am not panicking, but the Hun is getting more aggressive. I warned you fairly as far back as last September, and the Chief also warned you in November. And I warned the Air Board personally on 12th December. All I can say is that there will be an outcry from all the pilots out here if we do not have at least these few squadrons of fast machines, and what I have asked for is absolutely necessary.5
Brigadier General Hugh Trenchard, Headquarters, RFC
Trenchard drove his men forward, accepting casualties in order to obtain the photographs needed in the run-up to the offensive. The Imperial German Air Service also had its problems. Vastly outnumbered by the British and French in the air, it had no choice but to fight on as best it could. In doing so one of the key figures would be Lieutenant Manfred von Richthofen, an acolyte of Oswald Boelcke – who had been killed in a mid-air collision in October 1916. Richthofen had taken command of Jasta 11 and soon whipped his men into shape. Through a combination of his practical demonstration of superb air-fighting skills, astute tactical leadership and his ability to disseminate the lessons of air warfare, he converted pilots previously of no particular distinction into flying aces preying on the British aircraft almost at will. But they could not stop all of them and the RFC continued to deliver the photographs required by the Army.
One complication to the Allied plans was the German decision to withdraw to the Hindenburg Line far behind the existing positions on the Somme front. Built in accordance with the principles of defence in depth it was a formidable construction, shortening the German front by twenty-five miles and so freeing up some fourteen divisions from defensive duties holding the line. The retreat started in earnest on 14 March as the Germans abandoned their tactically suspect positions stretching from Arras down to the Aisne in the French area, implementing a vigorous scorched earth policy as they went. The cavalry came into their own as the Allies cautiously advanced across the new wastelands, with small patrols feeling their way forward. There was good reason to be cautious, for the Germans had also scattered booby traps to catch the unwary, with concealed delayed-action bombs timed to go off days afterwards. Throughout the advance the sappers were kept busy clearing booby traps and trying to restore basic elements of the wrecked infrastructure.
As the moment approached for the Battle of Arras to commence, on 9 April 1917, the artillery concentration had been completed with some 2,817 British guns facing only 1,014 German guns. There had been an interesting debate over the format of the opening bombardment which throws light on the continuing developments in British tactical thought. General Sir Edmund Allenby and his artillery advisers had favoured a short 48-hour bombardment, but Haig had demurred, pointing out that although the new 106 fuses offered hope of efficiently clearing the German barbed wire in the near future, there were simply not enough of them available at that point in time to allow for a short bombardment – something had to clear the wire, and a long bombardment was the only method then available. Tanks were a possible solution, but production had not kept up with demand from the front. Only sixty were available for the attack and hence their role was confined to taking out troublesome nests of German strongpoints. The final plans featured a four-day bombardment that drenched the German trenches and supporting gun batteries with tens of thousands of shells. Then, as the British and Canadian infantry went over the top, the thunderous creeping barrages would create a wall of shells, mixing high explosive, shrapnel and smoke shells, to chaperone them safely over the German lines. One interesting innovation was the use of Livens projectors, which could hurl large barrels of gas some 1,200 yards to saturate a locality with gas. The planning and preparations were complex in the extreme. Just moving the guns was a herculean effort, but then huge mines had to be dug, charges laid and tunnels hacked out in order to move the troops safely to the front. And of course the infantry had to be trained in using all the most modern techniques. Everything that could be done had been done; but that had been the case on the Somme as well. Had the Allies got it right this time?
On 4 April the British barrage began: a naked demonstration of the power of the guns as the shells rained down on the German trenches, strongpoints, machine gun posts, command headquarters and artillery batteries. One relatively new development was the use of batteries of Vickers machine guns firing on indirect lines of fire at long range to hose bullets down on road junctions. The barrage also marked the beginning of the offensive in the air. Trenchard was determined to deliver on his obligations to the Army, which meant innumerable artillery observation flights to correct the gunnery and photographic missions to determine the damage inflicted. The RFC intended to dominate the air above the battle zone and for up to twenty miles behind it – or die trying. Many British air crew would indeed lose their lives as they encountered the deadly guns of Richthofen, popularly known as the Red Baron, and the other German aces – not for nothing would this become known as ‘Bloody April’ by the RFC. Lieutenant Peter Warren, accompanied by his observer Sergeant Reuel Dunn, discovered for himself the deadly effectiveness of Richthofen, when he pounced on their Sopwith 1½ Stutter while on a vital mission of photographing defence works to the east of Vimy Ridge.
Another burst of lead from behind and the bullets spattered on the breech of my own machine gun, cutting the cartridge belt. At the same time, my engine stopped and I knew that the fuel tanks had been hit. There were more clouds below me. I dove for them and tried to pull up in them as soon as I reached them. No luck! My elevators didn’t answer the stick. The control wires had been shot away. There was nothing to do but go down and hope to keep out of a spin as best as I could. I side-slipped and then went into a dive which fast became a spiral. I don’t know how I got out of it. I was busy with the useless controls all the time, and going down at a frightful speed, but the red machine seemed to be able to keep itself poised just above and behind me all the time, and its machine guns were working every minute. I found later that bullets had gone through both of my sleeves and both of my boot legs, but in all of the firing, not one of them touched me. I managed to flatten out somehow in the landing and piled up with an awful crash. As I hit the ground, the red machine swooped over me, but I don’t remember him firing on me when I was on the ground.6
Lieutenant Peter Warren, 43rd Squadron, RFC
Both sides risked everything knowing that if they failed in the air the consequences could be disastrous for their comrades on the ground.
At 05.30 on Easter Monday, 9 April, the Battle of Arras began as the massed guns blazed out all along the line and two mines ripped open the ground under the German positions. At the same time every Ger
man battery identified by the RFC was deluged with high explosives and gas shells.
All of a sudden, as though at a single word of command, down came drum fire from thousands of large and small calibre muzzles. Shell fire rose to crazy heights. It was impossible to distinguish the firing signatures from the shell bursts. It was just one mass of fire amidst an extraordinary racket. It was like the final intake of breath before a race. Nerves were stretched to breaking point as we took in these scenes, which were like a painting of terrible beauty. Standing there for just a few seconds, a shell landed just to my left and a fragment hit my left side at chest height. My nerves took another knock. My heart was like lead, the gorge rose in my throat; blood ran into my mouth, taking my breath away. I was at the end of my strength, ready to faint.7
Second Lieutenant Bittkau, 263rd Reserve Infantry Regiment
After just three minutes the creeping barrages began to roll their way forward. On Vimy Ridge, close behind came the Canadian infantry, partially concealed by a smoke screen. The summit was far too narrow to allow any practical defence in depth; here the Germans had to hold their front lines or lose the ridge. The Canadians were on the Germans before they knew what was happening. Many, like Second Lieutenant Bittkau, were trapped in their dugouts.
Suddenly came a thin shout, seemingly from far off, ‘The British! Get out! Get out!’ They were coming from the left, through the hollow, heading directly for Bonval Wood. Battle was joined – rifle shots – shouts – hand grenades. Hans Voigt came running up carrying ammunition and information, whilst down below secret documents were being burned. ‘They are coming from the left – here they are!’ More bawling and shouting. ‘They are right above us!’ Then it was quieter – completely quiet – until a strange voice called down, ‘Come out!’ The light flickered. Thoughts ran through my numbed head: what were they going to do? Throw down hand grenades? Smash my skull? No, better to shoot myself. But the revolver was lying on the table and I could not move. Should I wait for a counter-attack? A Tommy came through the tunnel, looked carefully round the corner, a large revolver in his hand. ‘Officer?’ he asked, then left to fetch his comrades.8
Second Lieutenant Bittkau, 263rd Reserve Infantry Regiment
The Canadians pushed on, seeking to take the whole ridge before the Germans could reorganise themselves.
There were several bodies lying in its ruins, and there was no resistance until we had passed it, making for the second line. Then we came under fire from machine guns in pillboxes on the hillside. Still we went forward, losing only a very few men at this stage, until, as if from nowhere, there came a withering burst of fire from hidden machine guns well ahead of us. We were really into it now. We halted for a short time, to get our breath back and plan for the next move. Then a trench mortar group came along, sighted on the machine gun post and secured direct hits on it. We again went forward, slowly and deliberately. When we finally reached the point at which we were to halt and allow other units to continue over our heads, we were surprised to find that we had been in action for three hours. It had been hard slogging but we had reached our objective.9
Private Magnus McIntyre Hood, 24th Battalion (Victoria Rifles), CEF
The Canadians and the British 51st Division to their right had already consolidated their position on Vimy Ridge before the German counterattack divisions had any chance of getting there.
This has often been the sole memory retained of that day’s fighting, but in many ways the assault by the Third Army up the Scarpe Valley to the hills around Monchy-le-Preux is a more dramatic story. The counter-battery arrangements had worked perfectly and as the British troops crashed through the German defences the German counter-attacks were thwarted by the walls of shells of the standing barrages. There were hold ups of course but the new artillery ‘Zone Call’ technique could bring down an awesome concentration of shells on any worthwhile target. Surviving German batteries made for ideal targets.
My job was to direct the artillery and let them know which enemy batteries were in action. This was done by sending down what was known as a ‘Zone Call’; by this signal a certain number of Batteries would fire on the target indicated and go on firing till I told them to stop or they had expended their quota of ammunition. It was grand to see them answering and the Hun getting hell. I managed to send down fourteen calls on active batteries which was great fun. After ten minutes shells could be seen falling all round the located batteries, the gunners are bursting with joy. I should think that our casualties from German artillery must be small as every time a Battery opened fire it was immediately ‘zone called’ and shelled to hell.10
Captain Eric Routh, 16th Squadron, RFC
As the first wave of the assault divisions began to slow to a halt so the next wave pushed on for a total of three and a half miles. But then the advance faltered as it moved beyond the range of the field artillery. Some batteries were rushed forward in support, but were given little chance to establish their communications and register their targets, which considerably reduced their effectiveness. Tanks were quite incapable of providing any desperately needed stimulus, so Allenby turned to his only available mobile force – his cavalry – in an attempt to break through. But by the time they had moved forward the Germans had plugged the gaps and reorganised. For all their technical and tactical improvements, the British still had neither the method nor the means to break through the German defence system.
The Battle of Arras then moved into the depressing secondary stage which seemed to blight so many British offensives. The snowy weather helped to slow down attempts to capitalise on the moment and by the time they made a fully fledged renewed assault on 11 April the Germans were ready for them. The fighting centred on the villages of Monchy-le-Preux, Wancourt and the old Roeux chemical works, but the Germans held firm. The first day had seen a carefully prepared plan; this was a purely ad hoc attack. It failed totally. Even worse was an attempt by General Sir Hubert Gough’s Fifth Army, who had only just struggled through the wasteland left by the retreating Germans, to launch an attack on the new Hindenburg Line in the Bullecourt sector. By the time the aftershocks had died down it became clear that the British were not going to break through to achieve any more major tactical objectives. In any event, they had already performed their diversionary role for Nivelle’s great offensive at Chemin des Dames scheduled to start on 16 April. Even then, Haig was expected to keep up the pressure, with the upshot that a huge nine division attack was thrown together with the bare minimum of planning and preparation for the Second Battle of the Scarpe along a 9-mile front at Arras on 23 April 1917. It may have been a major offensive but it was woefully underresourced in comparison to the original attacks. Worse still, the Germans had by this time learnt most of the lessons that could be gleaned from the earlier fighting. In particular, they realised that when acting in a purely defensive capacity their artillery batteries could be located further back. From there they could still slaughter troops crossing No Man’s Land, but were themselves safely out of range of most of the British guns. This made generating sufficient counter-battery fire a nigh-on impossible task for the Royal Artillery. The Germans had also moved up fresh divisions and re-organised their defences. The fighting was bitter; in essence the British made a painful blood sacrifice in the cause of diverting attention from the French offensive further south.
The Nivelle Offensive, 16 April 1917
Nivelle was confident that the tactics he had used at Verdun would bring him success on a larger scale. There he had relied on narrow front attacks in which the artillery created a narrow corridor through which the infantry could push forward. Now, at last, he believed the French had enough heavy, long-range guns to attack on a wide front, allowing a single, crunching thrust to be made by the French Fifth and Sixth Armies. The heavy artillery would then be moved forward as quickly as possible to maintain the momentum, forcing a complete breakthrough by the Tenth Army. Throughout, the infantry would be required to move forward as quickly as possible, by
passing German strongpoints and leaving them isolated and helpless, to be dealt with by the follow-up troops. Nivelle had convinced the politicians, but it would not be these august gentlemen that would be climbing out of the trenches on 16 April. And there is no doubt that there was a fractious mood abroad among the French troops. This is evident in the memoirs of Private Louis Barthas, serving in one of the intended follow-up battalions. Even before the battle they were embittered, as demonstrated by their reaction to the supposedly inspiring ‘order of the day’.
They read out an order of the day from that mass-murderer of 16 April, General Nivelle, to inform his troops (that is to say, his victims!) saying amidst other nonsense that, ‘The hour of sacrifice has arrived and we must not think about leave!’ Reading this patriotic nonsense aroused no enthusiasm. On the contrary, it only demoralised the soldiers, who heard nothing but another terrible threat: new suffering, great dangers, the prospect of an awful death in a vain and useless sacrifice, because no one trusted the outcome of this new butchery. However, our commanders did not seem to doubt for a moment that the Germans would be routed.11