The Last Great Cavalryman

by Richard Mead

  Between 23 February and 5 April, the Germans conducted a planned and skilful withdrawal from their trenches on the Somme between Arras and Soissons to a strongly fortified line further east, known to them as the Siegfried-Stellung and to the Allies as the Hindenburg Line. This eliminated a dangerous bulge for the Germans and preempted a plan by the new French Commander-in-Chief, General Nivelle, to mount diversionary attacks from the west, including one by the BEF, before sending in the principal thrust from the River Aisne to the south. Undeterred by the new and much stronger German dispositions, Nivelle decided to go ahead with a similar plan. Douglas Haig of the BEF was deeply unhappy about this, preferring to attack in Flanders, but as Nivelle’s subordinate he had no option but to concur.

  The main British thrust would come from Edmund Allenby’s Third Army just to the east of Arras, whilst Julian Byng’s Canadian Corps would assault Vimy Ridge to the north of the town. On 5 April the 12th Lancers, with the rest of 5 Cavalry Brigade, marched from Auchy to Remaisnil and four days later to Grincourt, just behind the line, proceeding up the newly constructed cavalry track and joining 2 Cavalry Division on Telegraph Hill, about 2 miles south-east of Arras itself. However, although the Canadians had captured Vimy Ridge, the infantry attack around Feuchy stalled and the cavalry retired to Wailly, the 12th Lancers arriving there at 0330 hrs in the morning of 10 April. The march back took seven and a half hours in the dark over muddy tracks, and not until it was over could the officers and men, not to mention the horses, eat and drink for the first time since 0900 hrs on the previous morning. There was no shelter for humans or animals; some of the horses died of exposure and a few of the men were badly frost-bitten. The regiment remained at Wailly until 1230 hrs that afternoon, when it was turned out at short notice to return to Telegraph Hill and, after a short halt, to proceed on through Tilloy to Wancourt. There it came under German artillery fire, but a heavy snowstorm hid the regiment’s movement from observation and there were few casualties. 5 Cavalry Brigade then formed up in an exposed position just in front of the old German third line, which the infantry had captured that morning, but the enemy was still holding beyond that, stalling any further advance by the cavalry.

  At 1800 hrs the snow cleared and the 12th Lancers were spotted by the Germans, who laid down an artillery barrage for about fifteen minutes, killing 2 men, wounding 13 and causing about 30 casualties among the horses. With no further movement possible, the two brigades were ordered to be in the same position by 0500 hrs the next morning, but it was left to the discretion of their commanders whether or not to withdraw in the meantime. In the event 3 Cavalry Brigade withdrew, whilst 5 Cavalry Brigade, doubtless remembering the extremely difficult conditions of the previous night and also believing that the withdrawal of the cavalry might dishearten the sorely pressed infantry, stayed fast in position.

  No sleep was possible in the bitterly cold weather, with snow on the ground, so each man stood to beside his horse for the whole night. Directly daylight broke on 11 April the Germans resumed their shelling, this time with far greater accuracy, continuing for two hours until the brigade was ordered to withdraw. The 12th Lancers were particularly badly hit, especially when one shell landed in the regimental HQ, and the situation was compounded by accurate machine-gun fire. The conduct of the troops was magnificent, with no flinching under fire, later attracting considerable praise from the divisional commander, but their presence on the battlefield was futile and the damage to the regiment considerable. In all 6 officers, some 50 other ranks and over 100 horses were killed or wounded. Among the officer casualties was Dick.

  Dick was hit in the right thigh by a bullet, which severed the femoral artery. By an extraordinary piece of good luck it lodged there, otherwise he would have bled to death in a matter of minutes. The artery was tied off as soon as he reached the field hospital, but the subsequent loss of blood to the foot meant that gangrene set in. The surgeon told him that there was a considerable risk of the gangrene spreading and poisoning his whole system and that the only certain way of avoiding death would be to have the leg off. Dick replied that if he had the leg off he wouldn’t be able to ride and that if he couldn’t ride he wouldn’t want to live, so refused permission to operate. The two smallest toes on his right foot were lost, however, together with the terminal joints on the other three, leaving him apparently seriously incapacitated. In addition there was severe damage to the muscles in his right thigh which had been torn by the entry of the bullet. After the operation he was taken to No. 20 General Hospital at Camiers, near Étaples, for the first stage of his recovery.

  Reassuring messages were sent to all the family and by 15 April Dick was, according to a letter to his father, no longer in great pain – though as it was only four days after incurring his injury, it is more likely that he was either being stoical or taking a heavy dose of painkiller. In any event, it was not until 6 May that he was evacuated to England, the delay possibly partly due to the temporary suspension of journeys by hospital ships because of the submarine menace. He was taken to Princess Henry of Battenberg’s Hospital for Officers at 30 Hill Street in Mayfair,3 where his mother went at once to visit him. She was followed in due course by the rest of the family, including Bob, who was now at Sandhurst and who badgered Dick about which cavalry regiment to join, having decided that it would not be right for both of them to serve in the 12th Lancers. Dick’s foot improved and the highly capable chief surgeon, Colonel Rigby,4 was pleased with his patient’s progress, although he doubted how easily he would be able to walk, let alone ride. He did not reckon with Dick’s determination.

  After a month Hill Street was shut and Dick was moved to the Astley Hospital for Officers at Dorchester House on Park Lane.5 He was rather sad, as he had enjoyed Hill Street and found the new establishment much less congenial. One consolation was that, though he remained an in-patient, required to sleep in the hospital every night and to receive continuing medical attention, he was allowed to spend his days at the family’s London flat, going there at about 11.30 am and returning to the hospital at 7.00 in the evening. By late June he was being fitted with crutches and was able to accompany his mother and other family members to the Hippodrome Theatre to see the famous comedian George Robey – although he made very slow progress down to the front stalls.

  With less need for specialized medical attention, he was allowed to move down to Sherborne in late July, where his grandmother and mother had turned Greenhill House into a hospital for the duration of the war, with Mrs McAdam as the matron, Minnie as a sister and Da as one of the nurses.6 Dr Rice-Oxley, the medical director of the Astley, continued to supervise his progress and was able to report to the president of the Medical Board in September that Dick’s wounds had practically all healed, although he was continuing to experience difficulty in walking. By November, Dick was fit enough to travel to Bilton Park, which he enjoyed and which gave his father great pleasure. During Dick’s stay in hospital in London Walter had visited him every week, but he was lonely at Bilton and very much welcomed the company of any of his sons.

  By the end of the year Dick was fit to return to duty but not to active service. He was posted to the 1st Reserve Regiment of Cavalry based in Ireland, at The Curragh, the very large camp in County Kildare which was the main centre for the British Army in the country. Ireland had experienced considerable unrest since Dick had last been there in 1915, climaxing with the Easter Rising in 1916 and the trial and execution of Sir Roger Casement later that year, but was now relatively quiet again. In early 1917 the reserve regiments had been reorganized into nine regiments from the original seventeen. The 1st Reserve Regiment now took on recruits for all six lancer regiments, together with five of the yeomanry regiments.

  Dick arrived on 2 January 1918. Like many others who had been wounded seriously enough to have been evacuated from France, but had reached the end of their convalescence, he was expected to pass his knowledge of conditions on the Western Front on to the new recruits. Wilfred Lyde, who was at The Curr
agh at the same time, remembered him as a most popular subaltern with natural charm and a winning smile, sensing even at that early stage that he was destined for command. To Dick’s great pleasure his fellow officers included his brother Bob, who had joined the 17th Lancers and was in Ireland to master the essentials of the cavalryman’s role in warfare before proceeding to the front. Bob was now, as Dick had been at the same age, an excellent horseman and was foremost among his contemporaries in organizing equestrian activities, including a point-to-point.

  Dick, on the other hand, had to learn to ride again. The loss of his toes impeded him seriously in walking, although he learnt to do so very effectively, with a pronounced limp which would give rise to a number of mostly affectionate nicknames among the other ranks, such as ‘Hopalong’ and ‘Rickety Dick’. The wound in his thigh contributed to the limp but was more serious for riding, as it had damaged the muscle which gripped the saddle.7 Somehow he learnt not only to compensate for this but even, through what must have been sheer willpower, to ride again to the same high standard that he had enjoyed previously.

  His skills may have been further improved by being required to attend a course at the Cavalry School when he eventually arrived back in France, having at last convinced a medical board that he was fit for active service. He took some leave in England on the way, during which he fitted in another visit to his father at Bilton and managed to see his grandmother Belle in Paris.8 It was not until 11 September that he actually reported to the 12th Lancers for duty, having spent a frustrating week en route at the British Cavalry Base Depot at Rouen, which he described as the dirtiest camp imaginable. He rejoined B Squadron as a troop commander, having been promoted to lieutenant on 1 July 1917.

  The active service of the 12th Lancers in the seventeen months since Dick had been wounded was characterized yet again by frequent disappointment. The Nivelle Offensive, which included the Battle of Arras, had been a disaster for the Allies and particularly for the French, who later experienced a rash of mutinies. Much was expected of the Battle of Cambrai in November 1917, when the use of tanks in great numbers promised the desired breakthrough. They did indeed help to take the front line forward by many miles before the advance once again came to a standstill, after which a vigorous German counter-offensive recovered much of the ground. The regiment had actually been in the saddle for much of the battle, but was frustrated in its advance by the failure to secure two key bridges. In the end it was reduced once again to sending into action the Dismounted Company, which acquitted itself well. The Dismounted Company saw yet more action during the Ludendorff Offensive in the last week of March 1918, when the Germans very nearly succeeded in reaching Amiens and threatened to break through to the sea. In the confusion of the Allied retreat the war became for a short time one of movement and the 12th Lancers had for once, but only briefly, operated on horseback, providing flank protection and reconnaissance to a number of formations as they fell back. The actions of one squadron, moving forward mounted but then fighting on foot in the Bois de Hangard in support of an Australian infantry brigade, led to the feature becoming known as Lancer Wood.

  By the time Dick arrived back with the regiment, the overall picture had changed dramatically and, for the Allies, entirely favourably. The new Allied Commander-in-Chief, General Foch, had shown a masterly grasp of his now unified command, which was bolstered by the arrival of the first American troops. His counterstroke in July against the German salient south of the Marne, and the successful attack on the Somme on 8 August which removed any threat to Amiens – Ludendorff’s ‘Black Day of the German Army’ – had made a serious impact on enemy morale. In the last week of September Foch launched a series of coordinated offensives along the whole front between the English Channel and Verdun, which met with rapid success.

  The 12th Lancers now formed part of Henry Rawlinson’s Fourth Army. Although still notionally in 5 Cavalry Brigade, in practice the regiment was attached to whichever formation was likely to need it, initially 5 Australian Division. Although considerable progress was made by the infantry, the opportunity to exploit gaps with the cavalry still eluded the Allies at first and on 23 October the regiment was withdrawn to Maretz, south-east of Le Cateau. On 4 November it was ordered to move forward again and cross the Sambre-Oise Canal at Landrecies. Over the next few days troops from the regiment were attached to 25, 50 and 66 Divisions, with patrols operating for the first time entirely successfully in conjunction with the infantry.

  On 9 November the regiment’s commanding officer, still Lieutenant Colonel Fane, took two troops of A Squadron up to the HQ of 50 Division, where he received the news that Dick’s No 3 Troop of B Squadron, which had been attached to 198 and 199 Brigades, had cleared up a machine-gun post in Les Fontaines, thereby opening the road to Solre le Château, down which Dick had pushed patrols. The two troops from A Squadron were immediately sent by Fane to exploit this gap, taking Sars Poteries and entering Solre le Château itself, capturing a field gun, a machine gun and an immense amount of rolling stock on the railway, including a loaded ammunition train. On the following day patrols were pushed out towards the Belgian border, but the enemy were found to be holding a very strong position on the River Thure. The 12th Lancers concentrated in Solre le Château, where that evening the ammunition train was hit by German artillery fire, causing an immense explosion and the regiment’s last fatality of the war. At 1100 hrs on the next day, 11 November, the ‘war to end all wars’ came to an end.

  Henry Jackson, who was commanding 50 Division and had personally given Dick his orders that day, considered that he had carried out his task so well and so quickly that he deserved a special award, recommending him for the Military Cross.9 On 18 December the news arrived at the regiment that he had been awarded the decoration. The citation in the London Gazette read as follows:

  On 9th November, 1918, east of the Avesnes – Maubeuge road, for valuable and dashing work when in command of a mounted patrol sent forward to get in touch with the retiring enemy. He pushed boldly forward skilfully clearing up an enemy machine-gun post which threatened to hold up the advance from the outset, capturing ten prisoners and one machine gun. He then cleared three villages and sent back a most accurate and clear report.

  For Dick the war ended on a high note. His actions in the closing days had served to increase the regard in which he was held by his fellow officers in the regiment. Victor Cartwright, for instance, who was close to him for most of his active service in France, wrote much later that he had no superior as a troop commander. He had come close to death at Arras, a stroke of good fortune allowing him to survive a conflict in which a significant percentage of his generation had been swept away. Like most of his contemporaries who had served for some time on the Western Front, he could not fail to have been profoundly affected by the experience, but he probably believed that what they had achieved would make the world a better place. Few thought it possible that it could happen all over again.

  Chapter 5

  Peace and Tragedy

  ‘It seems hard to realise, doesn’t it,’ wrote Dick to his maternal grandmother on the fourth day of peace, ‘that the war is over at last, especially as we shall probably be out here for some time.’1 ‘Some time’ turned out to be ten months. In the immediate aftermath of the Armistice the regiment stayed exactly where it had been when the guns fell silent, further progress frustrated by the need to clear the mines which had been skilfully laid by the retreating Germans. The only excitement came with the order to move to Philippeville, some 20 miles away in Belgium, ostensibly to restore order among the Germans, who were apparently no longer under the control of their officers, to protect the inhabitants and to rescue Allied prisoners. In the event, the lancers found that there were no disturbances of any sort, but rather an enormous party at which they were the guests of honour, with Rollie Charrington, temporarily in command, presented with an address by the mayor and council.

  A fortnight later the 12th Lancers crossed the border into Germ
any near St Vith, but remained there for only a few days before returning to Belgium, where the regiment moved into what the war diary described as ‘very suitable’ billets at Ensival, close to the frontier south of Aachen. Many of the men were sent off on leave, and gradually those who had joined for the duration were discharged, to be replaced by new recruits. Dick was a regular officer and thus secure in his position, but he appears to have had no thoughts about leaving the regiment. In any event, opportunities were opening up for what he enjoyed most, equestrian sport. He showed how completely he had recovered his riding skills when he won the race open to subalterns of the 12th Lancers on a horse called Old Hat in the 5 Cavalry Brigade steeplechase near Verviers on 11 January 1919, following this with another victory on the same horse a week later at a Scots Greys point-to-point meeting, in a race open to all comers from 2 Cavalry Division – ‘a very popular win’ according to the war diary.

  On 15 March Dick rode competitively for the first time on a horse which was to be a great and longstanding favourite, his official charger, Fox-Trot. He was to have the horse for many years, buying him from the government in 1925 for the princely sum of £12.2 The horse proved to be particularly good at showjumping and was a steady and reliable hunter. Riding Fox-Trot, Dick was placed 12th out of 80 at the French Army Horse Show at Wiesbaden that May, although by that time he was more often seen competing on his other charger, Kilbay, on which he did very well, including coming first in a dead heat in the Grand International Steeplechase at the Cologne Races in August.

  Polo also restarted during the summer of 1919. Dick was able to take leave to coincide with the Bilton Park polo tournament in May and represented the 12th Lancers in the subalterns’ team at the Rhine Army polo tournament in August, at the start of a regimental career in the sport which was to continue for another nineteen years. The facilities for polo in Belgium were rather primitive, so for this reason at least the officers were pleased to return to the British Isles in September 1919, but it was not to England that they were posted. Instead they were sent to The Curragh.