by Peter Hart
Second Lieutenant A. Saucke, 84th Infantry Regiment
The Germans fell back, hoping their wide trenches would thwart the tanks. It was here, though, that the fascines proved their worth, as a stunned Saucke watched on helplessly.
I watched one tank, which displayed a white flag as a special recognition mark and had some sort of attachment on its front. It approached the trench at right angles, then, when it reached the lip of the trench, the attachment suddenly fell vertically. I assumed that the tank had been hit or at least damaged and could scarcely believe my eyes when it continued onwards and its outline gradually became more clearly defined. There could be no doubt, it had crossed the trench and was pressing on towards us. What I had seen must have been a large wooden object or a great bundle of sticks which it had released at the appropriate moment in order to cross the trench. The following moments were difficult. We felt betrayed and sold out. Once more the most violent firing broke out as every barrel was brought to bear against these monstrous opponents. If only its infantry had put in an appearance! We could have dealt with men of flesh and blood like ourselves, but we were defenceless against these armoured machines.42
Second Lieutenant A. Saucke, 84th Infantry Regiment
Now the Germans were also harrassed from the air. The men of the RFC, who had become increasingly involved in ground-strafing operations, were flying ahead of the tanks. One of them was Second Lieutenant Arthur Gould Lee, who had been despatched to bomb a battery of 5.9-inch guns. The aircraft may not have carried a significant bombload, but the impact of swarms of busy-bee scouts was disruptive. And some of their little bombs struck home.
Smoke shells burst ahead, a flash of red flame and masses of belching cloud, which we speed through – nauseous-smelling stuff that stings the eyes. In patches, where smoke merges with mist and cloud, we fly blind. Now we reach the rear of the Hindenburg defence system, two lots of trenches, with troops in field grey waiting in them, their forward view blocked by the pall of smoke. We skim just over their heads, I see them staring up at us in incredulous amazement. More smoke shells burst ahead, and suddenly, unexpectedly, we’re at the wood. The 5.9s below are firing, producing more smoke. So there we are, the three of us, whirling blindly around at 50–100 feet, all but colliding, being shot at from below, and trying to place bombs accurately. In a sharp turn I saw a bunch of guns right in line for attack, so dived at 45 degrees and released all four bombs. As I swung aside I saw them burst, a group of white-grey puffs centred with red flames. One fell between two guns, the rest a few yards away. Splinters suddenly splash in my face – a bullet through a centre-section strut. This makes me go hot, and I dive at another group of guns, giving them 100 rounds, see a machine gun blazing at me, swing on to that, one short burst and he stops firing. As I climb up, a Camel whizzes past me out of the mist, missing me by a yard. It makes me sweat with fright. This is too dangerous.43
Lieutenant Arthur Gould Lee, 46th Squadron, RFC
Inside the tanks the crews were achieving great things, but at the same time were enduring a tremendous physical and mental trial.
I fired at anything I could see that looked like a target, any rise in the ground, trench, bush, anything that might shelter someone and I dropped most of the empty drums out of the flap in front. By now the inside of the tank was terribly hot, caused by the engine chiefly and the air was heavy and close, and caught your throat when you breathed; this, owing to the back-blast of the two guns and the ejector of the machine gun, and the noise was appalling.44
Lieutenant Kenneth Wootton, ‘Apollyon II’, ‘A’ Battalion, Tank Corps
Tanks were superb weapons against demoralised infantry, but they were also large, slow-moving targets which were themselves vulnerable to artillery fire.
Soon after we came almost face to face with at least four more guns, also in the open. All pointing in our direction. They fired at me, just point-blank, and the shell struck us in front just where I was sitting and, bursting as it hit, blew a hole in the armour-plating by my left knee. The first thing that made me realise we had been hit was ‘coming to’ finding myself lying back over my seat with my head nearly on the floor and my left foot caught in something so that I couldn’t move it. I felt no pain of any sort, being dazed and numb all over, with a tremendous sort of singing noise in both ears and some blood running into my left eye, which I wiped with my hand now and then. I slid back off the seat and sank to the floor having no use in my legs or arms, but still feeling nothing.45
Lieutenant Kenneth Wootton, ‘Apollyon II’, ‘A’ Battalion, Tank Corps
There was also a great problem getting the tanks across the St Quentin Canal. After a vigorous exchange of fire between tanks and German infantry in the cottages opposite, the Flying Fox II, festooned with infantry, tried to cross an already partially demolished bridge.
Swinging to the right again, we started across – going strong and no one hurt except odd splinters. We had almost got across, when ‘Grruff Crash!’ – the Bosche blew the far end of the span in, and we dropped smack into the canal. We thought the end of the world had come at least, but had the presence of mind to fling open all exits, and the water started to pour in from all directions. The air inside was thick with ammunition boxes and shells which had broken loose from their holders with the shock of landing, and flew about in all directions. Something outside hit the muzzle of my gun, and as the traversing arm was under my armpit, it lifted me up, bringing my head into violent contact with the steel plating of the roof. I was thankful that I was wearing a steel helmet at the time. Luckily, our tail had lodged on some masonry, and so held the rear end of the tank out of the water. I was delayed a few seconds by the tap I had received on the head, and in the meantime the others had ‘shot’ out of every exit, and jumped and scrambled until they gained the road, down which they ‘beat it’ in great style.46
Private Alfred Ballard, ‘Flying Fox II’, ‘F’ Battalion, Tank Corps
In the end the Front Line System of the Hindenburg Line was over-run to a depth of some 3–4 miles, a splendid achievement equal to the first day at Arras. On the other hand, the cavalry were unable to deploy forward to any effect, the German Second Line System between Masnières and Beaurevoir remained intact, the key bridge across the canal had been destroyed and the heights of Bourlon Ridge remained in German hands. The British had suffered some 4,000 casualties but had taken over 4,000 German prisoners. Significantly no less than 179 tanks had been put out of action or broken down.
Next day the offensive carried on, but by now both sides found themselves in a more familiar scenario played out countless times before. The Germans rushed forward reinforcements, while the British struggled to regain some momentum. There was no surprise now, the guns had been moved forward and their firing lost precision, the number of tanks was vastly depleted, the infantry were tiring and there were few reserves available. Vicious fighting took place in an effort to gain the Bourlon Ridge, but all the British had succeeded in doing was creating a vulnerable salient by the time operations staggered to a close on 27 November. But the Germans too had been learning some new tricks.
The German High Command were well aware of the opportunities presented by the newly created British salient. Some nine miles wide and four miles deep, it was vulnerable to attacks from both flanks to pinch it out, thereby cutting off the units holding the extremities. Soon preparations were underway for a major counter-attack by the Second Army led by General Georg von der Marwitz. The end result was a plan to fire a diversionary barrage at Bourlon Wood, before attacking the southern front of the salient, driving in towards the north. The German response typified the endurance of the German Empire. Despite all the trials of the year, they still managed to scrape together a formidable force of eighteen divisions, of which ten were still largely unaffected by the recent debilitating battles on the Western Front.
The German offensive tactical approach had been refined through the long years of war: their own experiences at Verdun and on th
e Eastern Front were melded with what they had observed in their British and French opponents. The German High Command still perceived no pressing need for tanks, relying on their massed artillery, now equalled by the British, but still a devastating weapon of war. There would be a short powerful bombardment of between thirty and sixty minutes, targeting in particular batteries, headquarters, cutting communications routes and generally isolating the salient, while the ubiquitous high-angle mortars pummelled the front lines to great effect. The infantry would then advance, once again trialling the stormtrooper tactics that were still being refined. The first wave would move forward in sections, using light machine guns, grenades and flamethrowers, passing between strongpoints, feeling their way through the cracks in the British defences, seeking out the vulnerable artillery batteries and headquarters. Behind them would be mobile minenwerfers and even some 77 mm guns to provide close support in reducing points of resistance. Above them would be swarms of low-flying aircraft strafing the British wherever they were sighted.
The German barrage began at 06.00 on 30 November, quietly at first but soon building up to a terrifying crescendo. The German gunners certainly enjoyed themselves in delivering the drumfire they had endured so often from the British and French.
Today is our day. Today it is we who are doing the drumming. 7.50 am. The order to fire flies from the observation post to the guns. It passes along the chain of relays like a flat pebble skimming along the surface of a pond. The battery commander has lit a living time fuse. ‘Rumm… rumm… rumm… rumm’ and simultaneously angry streams of flame belch out from behind hedges and bushes, from hollows and the ruins of houses. ‘Next target 3,000 metres! From the right, fire!’ ‘Rumm… rumm… rumm… ’ That is revenge for the naval guns firing on the Lorette Spur, which ploughed up our cemeteries. ‘3,500 metres! Fire!’ ‘Rumm… rumm… rumm… rumm…’ That is for the autumn battles in Champagne. Now the Tommies are picking up the bill for the French. ’3,700!’ ‘Rumm… rumm… rumm… rumm…’ Go on, crawl away into the earth, duck down low. Revenge for the whimpering of the helpless comrades buried alive on the Somme. ‘3,900!’ ‘Rumm… rumm… rumm… rumm…’ Great fun, eh, Tommy? Swallow the gas and choke out your death rattles. That is for Verdun. ‘Rolling Salvo! 4,000 metres!’ ‘Rumm…’ Revenge for Vermelles! ‘3,900!’ ‘Rumm…’ Revenge for Givenchy! ‘3,800!’ ‘Rumm…’ Revenge for St Hilaire! ‘3,700!’ For Fontaine! ‘3,600!’ ‘3,500!’ Revenge for Wavrille and Herbebois! ‘3,000! Rapid fire!’ What fun, Tommy! We are taking our revenge for the dismal years when we had to be patient. Long, long years of being on the receiving end of drum fire, helpless. ‘Rumm… rumm… rumm… rumm… Today we are doing the drumming!’47
Second Lieutenant von der Goltz, 14th Field Artillery Regiment
As the infantry moved into No Man’s Land, they cut through the British troops, many of whom were already exhausted.
In no time at all we were in possession of the first enemy positions. Without pausing we assaulted the next hollow, where we came across numerous dugouts. We had soon cleared the enemy out of them. Up to this point, about 200 metres, we had doubled forward. I commanded the light machine guns, whose crews found the advance exceptionally strenuous because of their heavy loads. Despite the great effort involved, we stormed forward on to the hill to our front and, once again, we soon broke the tough defence of the enemy. We took numerous prisoners. We continued on unstoppably through the next dip, clearing the dugouts by the use of hand grenades.48
Staff Sergeant Engesser, 40th Fusilier Regiment
In places they even broke through to the gun line. The Third Army awoke to near disaster: all available units were rushed forward to hold key tactical positions, Among them were the men of the Guards Division who launched a counter-attack.
We felt ‘We are the Guards. We’ll show them’, and we knew we had to keep cool, and maintain a disciplined line. Orders were passed along verbally. Over undulating down we went, and still no sign of Germans, but when we drew near Gouzeacourt Wood and, crossing a deserted trench, reached the crest of a hill, they met us with a blizzard of fire. Mates fell on all sides, and the order came to fall back to the trench. Many wounded were left behind, and I crept out and started to drag in a heavy fellow badly wounded in the legs. It wasn’t easy going and, desperately, I appealed to him, ‘Make an effort, chum!’ ‘Effort be damned!’ he exclaimed, and it struck me as so comic a situation, with bullets spattering around, that I had to pause and chuckle before resuming the pull to the trench. Helping hands hauled him over the parapet to safety, and that was the last I saw or heard of him. He must have been swiftly carried to the rear.49
Private Norman Cliff, 2nd Grenadier Guards
The British flung everything in to stem the tide: the disciplined troops of the Guards Division, low-flying strafing aircraft, the remnants of the tanks not yet withdrawn from the battlefield, dismounted cavalry, even charges by mounted Indian lancers. In the end it was just about enough. The fighting degenerated into a welter of attacks and counter-attacks. Eventually the British pulled back in relatively good order from the extremities of the salient, to a strong defensive line based on Flesquières – and there they stayed. The Third Army lost some 44,207 casualties, the Germans approximately 41,000. Neither side gained the objectives they craved; both did enough to deny their enemies success. The two tactical rollercoasters were rattling along side by side but for all their advances no one had yet solved the problem of breaking through their opponent’s lines. The battle ended with the honours shared, but both sides had trialled the tactics that would come to centre stage in 1918. The advent of predicted fire and the mass use of tanks also left a lingering sword of Damocles: no longer could any German sector be considered truly quiet. An Allied offensive could burst out from anywhere at any time and the Germans were consequently forced to strengthen their defences and review their divisional dispositions all along the line.
16
ITALY, 1915–18
‘If success was achieved on the Italian Front, I believed that victory in the War was assured. A separate peace with Austria would then be practicable, and having eliminated Austria from the War, Germany would be at our mercy.’1
Prime Minister David Lloyd George
ITALY HAD RENEGED ON ITS COMMITMENTS on the outbreak of war in August 1914, claiming that the aggressive nature of the actions taken by the Central Powers breached the defensive nature of the original treaty agreements. An alliance containing Austria-Hungary was never likely to sit well with an Italian population, who still harboured a grudge against the Austrians over disputed territories, particularly focussed on the Trentino and Trieste areas. There was a popular groundswell headed by a nationalist movement, Italia Irredenta (Unredeemed Italy), that these lands should be ‘returned’ to Italy thereby finally uniting the Italian population. This stance conveniently omitted consideration of the interests of the many Germans and Slavs who had also made their home in these lands. Once it became evident that Italy was not entering the war on the German side, there was a rush by British and French diplomats to secure the Italians to augment the ranks of the Entente. These efforts culminated in the secret Treaty of London, signed on 26 April 1915, under the provisions of which Italy would declare war on the Central Powers in return for promises of gains in the disputed provinces in the Tyrol and the Austrian Littoral which included the port of Trieste. Agreements were also hammered out over the division of the spoils with Serbia along the Dalmatian coastline of the Adriatic. In consequence, Italy declared war on Austria-Hungary on 23 May 1915, thereby opening up a new front stretching for some 400 miles along the border Italy shared with Austria-Hungary.
The frontier formed the shape of a huge ‘S’, with the Trentino Salient bulging into Italy and the Udine pushing into Austria. Most of the front was extremely mountainous in character and could be divided into three sectors: the Trent Front around the Trentino Salient; the Alpine Front; and finally the thirty miles of the Isonzo River sector running
down to the Adriatic, although even here the ground was dominated be a series of hills and ridges. The configuration of the border bequeathed the Italians a significant strategic conundrum. If they were to attack on the Isonzo Front, where the terrain offered the best chance of progress, they would be vulnerable to a devastating Austrian attack emanating from the Trent Front, which was effectively behind the Italian lines, and would threaten to cut off both the Alpine and Isonzo Fronts.
The Italian Army was large, consisting of some 850,000 soldiers, and based on a conscription system, but there were severe problems with both equipment and training. The officers were still recruited from a fairly narrow regional base and there was an inherent lack of professionalism in their general approach. Although King Victor Emanuel was nominally Commander in Chief, the Italian Chief of General Staff and de facto commander was General Luigi Cadorna. Born in 1850, Cadorna had demonstrated considerable abilities as an administrative staff officer and was widely respected as a theoretical military strategist, although he had no relevant experience as a field commander. The lower ranks of his army were largely drawn from peasant stock and were dogged by high levels of illiteracy, which hampered the development of good NCOs. However, they would demonstrate a tough resilience to both harsh conditions and severe casualties on active service.
The standard infantry weapon was the magazine-charged 6.5 mm bolt-action Mannlicher-Carcano rifle which dated back to 1891. It proved hard-wearing and its lighter calibre made it eminently suited to the mountainous regions where much of the fighting would occur. They were also equipped with Fiat-Revelli machine guns, which proved perfectly sound weapons – the problem was the paucity of their numbers in service condition. Even worse was the shortage of modern artillery. The most common field guns were the 75 mm Krupp or Deport models, with a number of 65 mm mountain guns which could be broken down to be transported by mules in rough country. But again there were simply too few of them, while heavy artillery was also in scarce supply. The Italians had none of the high-trajectory mortars that were so essential in mountain warfare. Throughout the years that followed the Italians would be desperate for artillery support from their British and French allies. Nevertheless, the Italian Army deployed in the field in May 1915 thirty-six infantry divisions in fourteen corps, in contrast to the paltry six divisions of the BEF in 1914. And so, the Italian entry into the war was a considerable blow to the Central Powers.