Aristocrats Go to War: Uncovering the Zillebeke Cemetery

by Jerry Murland

  A squadron of 1/Life Guards under Captain Hugh Grosvenor had been in the Kruiseke trenches with the Border Regiment since the previous day and were no doubt as surprised as the Germans were by the arrival of the Blues just as it was getting dusk. The Blues were quickly into action. One squadron under the command of Alastair Kerr rode straight through 1/Life Guards’ trenches and across the frontage of two German cavalry regiments before dismounting and opening fire on the enemy. The remaining squadrons of the Blues dismounted behind Hugh Grosvenor’s men and, advancing over the ridge, put down covering fire. Recovering from the initial shock the German trenches opened fire on the galloping horsemen, suspecting the whole British Cavalry Corps was behind them and ready to gallop into their trenches. There is no doubt this bold action by Gordon Wilson’s men caught the German cavalry by surprise and during the ensuing mayhem, 20 Brigade was able to complete its withdrawal in the fading light of the day. General Kavanagh is said to have been open mouthed in approval, a view shared by Gordon Wilson:

  ‘Last night the Blues were called upon to make a marked demonstration against the enemy’s trenches … We were promised the support of two batteries, but owing to a mistake they never came into action, the result being that we came under heavy shrapnel fire, plus rifle and maxim, for a quarter of an hour. We had eleven wounded and one killed, and 25 horses laid out. We were able, however, to line the ridge, and so good was our fire that we silenced the enemy, and, having accomplished the demonstration, rode back a mile across country in the dark. The Brigadier thanked me personally for the services rendered by the regiment … but we should have but half our force if the shells had burst 6 feet lower than they did. Alasdair then had his horse shot, carried a wounded corporal out of action on his back, as did Trooper Nevin. I have recommended them both to the GOC’s notice.’

  A slightly more blasé diary account was provided by another Blues officer:

  ‘We rode onto the crest between the two trenches held by Hugh Grosvenor’s squadron, and here the Germans spotted us and we came in for a hail of shrapnel and bullets. My horse was hit in the shoulder and I got into a trench in which were Hugh Grosvenor and Gerry Ward. They seemed surprised at our selecting this spot for a point-to-point.’

  German pressure on the 7th Division front was increasing steadily. Von Fabeck’s Army Corps was getting into position for its assault along the line from Ploegsteert Wood in the south to Gheluvelt which lay astride the Menin Road. Regy Wyndham’s diary of 27 October gives an inkling of the patchwork of support that was being employed to strengthen the British front line:

  ‘Grosvenor’s squadron came in after 72 hours in the trenches. A lovely morning, but it rained a little in the afternoon. In the evening we turned out without horses to take over the trenches [at Zandvoorde]. They sent us up to the trenches on the right where the Royals were. My troop was put in reserve behind Gen. Kavanagh’s quarters. Then we were suddenly turned out to relieve the Warwicks in their trenches. The 2nd [Life Guards] came too. When we got there we found the 2nd were sufficient, so they brought us back. The big German shells have dug deep pits in the Zandvoorde street[s].’

  Writing to Lady Sarah on the same day from the relative comfort of the regiment’s billets at Hollebeke Chateâu, Gordon Wilson appeared quite relaxed. As commanding officer he would have taken some comfort from the fact that the regiment’s casualties were up to now manageable and although 7 Cavalry Brigade was spending more time dismounted in the trenches to the south of the Menin Road, there were periods of respite:

  ‘We are all well and at present I write from a Chateâu which is deserted, and have just been able to have a bath and a change of raiment, so feel fit and clean again … I have just received a parcel with a thick khaki coat, which will be very comforting, as the weather is cold and showery. I am so glad that you have at last been able to get what you want done regarding your hospital.’

  Although Sir John French felt the Germans were ‘quite incapable of making any strong sustained attack’ it is difficult to believe that all the British commanders on the ground shared this perception. If they did then the events of the next few days would have quickly dispelled any misconceptions they might have had. As for 7 Cavalry Brigade, the storm of fire that was about to break on the Zandvoorde Ridge would thrust them forever into British cavalry legend.

  Chapter 9

  Play Up and Play the Game

  With Kruiseke now abandoned by the British, German attention became fixed on the line that ran south from Zandvoorde through Hollebeke and along the Messines Ridge. It was von Fabeck’s intention to break through the line between Messines and Zandvoorde in order to seize the high ground at Kemmel. With this in mind, von Fabeck concentrated his divisions on the overstretched positions south of the Menin Road held by the 7th Division and the three cavalry divisions stretched out from Zandvoorde to Messines. Still unsure of the depth of the Allied reserves, von Fabeck planned a diversionary attack at Zonnebeke to draw attention away from his primary objective and draw the reserves north. In this he failed; nowhere north of the Menin Road did German forces break through and as the early morning mist cleared away, the men of the 1st and 2nd Divisions exacted a heavy toll on the attacking forces. South of the Menin Road it was a different story. Numerically there was little on paper to prevent von Fabeck sweeping aside the exhausted troops that still held the key to the channel ports. That he failed to do so was largely down to the indomitable spirit of the British soldier.

  At Zandvoorde the positioning of the trenches on the forward facing slope of the ridge had, in retrospect, been an error of judgement. Regy Wyndham described them in his diary as being ‘badly placed’ and many of the 3rd Cavalry Division whose misfortune it was to occupy them referred to them as ‘a death trap’. The trenches followed the contours of the ridge and curved around the southeast side of the village and were in full view of German observers; their strategic value lay in the fact they were on the crest of a prominent ridge that offered a vantage point over the plain below. Their weakness, as far as the British were concerned, lay in the fact the positions were practically surrounded by enemy forces and were open to attack on three sides. Nevertheless, Zandvoorde was still considered to be of strategic importance and on the morning of 30 October the trenches were manned by 1/ and 2/Life Guards and the Royal Horse Guards. On the immediate left of the cavalry positions were the 1st Battalion Royal Welch Fusiliers, their trenches, a succession of muddy holes, curved back from the Zandvoorde trenches and faced almost north.

  If the intended rotation of relief had gone according to plan, 6 Cavalry Brigade would have relieved the 7th Brigade in the Zandvoorde trenches at dusk on 29 October and Second Lieutenant William Murland and 10/Hussars would have been fighting for their survival the next morning; a factor which may have altered the path of my family tree had he been killed. But fate played a different card and 6 Cavalry Brigade was called away to support the infantry and did not return to billets at Verbrandenmolen until after dark, leaving the men of the 7th Brigade in the trenches for another night. By that time they had, in fact, been in the trenches for three days and nights under almost continuous shell fire from the south and east and occasionally from the direction of Hollebeke in the west. They were tired, wet, cold and hungry.

  Yet the hand of fate was to reach out and interfere further. Just before their relief was about to arrive on 25 October, 1/Life Guards discovered one of the regiment’s machine guns had jammed and was to all intents and purposes useless. Recognising the need for the full complement of machine guns in the front line, Captain Kearsey, in his role as brigade major, asked Lieutenant Charles Pelham (Lord Worsley) of the Blues to remain in post with his machine-gun section to provide the necessary fire power. This he apparently did ‘most cheerfully’, reportedly telling Kearsey it was ‘all in the day’s work.’ On the fateful morning of 30 October 1914, Lord Worsley and his men had just clocked up the start of their seventh day without relief. It was to be their last.

  Von Fabek
had originally intended to storm Zandvoorde on 29 October to coincide with the attack on the Menin Road but the delay of the German XV Army Corps forced a postponement until the next day. The German attack began at 06.45 am with an artillery bombardment which lasted a little over an hour. The storm of shrapnel and high explosive literally blew 7 Cavalry Brigade’s trenches to pieces before the infantry assault by the German 39th Division and three Jaeger battalions got underway at 08.00 am. The bombardment was witnessed by Lloyd who was in reserve with the remainder of D Squadron at Verbrandenmolen:

  ‘A hellish bombardment broke out on the Zandvoorde Ridge. It was the hottest we had heard up to then. Its suddenness and intensity caused us to stand still for a moment or two and gape. One idea formed itself immediately in all our minds – this was the expected big German attack … For upwards of an hour the ground trembled and the air was full of din. Then gradually the shelling subsided and machine gun and rifle fire swelled up into a roar … Gradually, about 8.30 or 9 am., the rifle fire grew less lively.’

  From all accounts it appears the Zandvoorde Ridge was in enemy hands sometime after 9.00 am. Regy Wyndham and his troop from D Squadron were on the right flank of Worsley’s machine gunners:

  ‘In the morning they all attacked us. They shelled us hard, and one of the first shells buried Dawes all except his head, and also buried my belt, pillow, glasses and haversack. Then their infantry attacked. We knocked a good few over, but the Maxim on our right ran out of ammunition, and one trench on our right was driven in. We kept on firmly until our ammunition was finished. The spare box of ammunition was buried by the shell which buried Dawes. In the end we had no more ammunition, and they began to enfilade us from our right. Had to order Sergt. Arthurs to retire from the right hand trench, and then ordered my troop to retire.’

  Overwhelmed by sheer weight of numbers and dazed from the initial bombardment, most of the brigade still managed to retire in good order but in the chaos of hand-to-hand fighting and the general pandemonium of combat, the order to retire did not reach all the cavalry positions.

  While the squadrons on the right completed their retirement back through the village to 6 Cavalry Brigade’s trenches, the machine-gun section of the Blues and one squadron from each regiment of 1/ and 2/Life Guards held their positions and fought to the last man. Regy Wyndham managed to bring the remnants of his troop out of the firing line but in doing so had to leave his sergeant, ‘Cabby’ Dawes, behind as they fell back through the village:1

  ‘We ran back to the farm. The Maxim killed Sergt. Arthurs. Then after finding Clowes had left the farm, I went on and found Dawes and Brooks. Dawes was slightly hit. We found Bussey badly wounded, but could not move him. We picked up a man of Arthur’s troop and helped him along until he dropped dead. Then when we reached the X roads where Levinge was buried, Dawes had his leg broken by the shell fire. The shells had been bursting just over us all the way. Had to leave Dawes lying where he was … Then set to work to find the [remainder of the] men. Found most of them when we got back to the horses. As we retired down the road, the Germans shelled it and Charlie Fitzmaurice [Lord Charles Petty-Fitzmaurice] was killed. Then found that my troop of 20 had 9 killed and wounded, there were only 7 left of Arthur’s troop of 26 men.’2–3

  The exact deployment of 7 Cavalry Brigade at Zandvoorde is still unclear. The official history of the Household Cavalry is at variance with the map later drawn by Captain Stuart Menzies in 1923 which was included in a letter to General Kavanagh. Menzies was the Adjutant of 2/Life Guards at the time of the battle and his sketch map (see Map 5) of the positions of the various squadrons of Life Guards is probably the more accurate. The problem was of course that at the end of the war there were few, if any, survivors from the battle who were able to provide any coherent detail of what exactly happened to the squadrons which fought to the end. Although Stuart Menzies’ account of the events of 30 October 1914 sheds little further light on the course of the battle, it does raise the question of the fate of the wounded:

  ‘On the 30th the Household Cavalry regiments were in the front line in the order shown on the enclosed sketch. When the German attack was launched the 7th Division on the left was compelled to retire, I believe to conform with the retirement of troops on their right. Beyond the above practically nothing is known of what occurred as the two squadrons and the machine guns of the Blues completely disappeared, and only a few survivors were taken prisoner, and on their return at the end of the war they were unable, I understand, to throw much light on the attack. My regiment had an officer who was on the extreme left who managed to escape with slight wounds. According to his story which was somewhat confused owing to his being dazed, the attack was made by German infantry after a very heavy preliminary bombardment. I can only conclude that the squadrons were cut off owing to their somewhat forward position, and were ultimately all killed, though it is remarkable that there should have been so few wounded taken prisoner. I fear that one must assume that the Germans behaved in an ultra-Hunlike manner and gave no quarter.’

  Once the cavalry positions had been overrun, the German infantry battalions began moving north round the crest of the Zandvoorde Ridge until they were in a position to enfilade and surround the Welch Fusiliers. From this moment on the Fusiliers’ position was a hopeless one; their right flank was unprotected and the trenches little more than muddy holes in the ground. The battalion, which was under the command of Lieutenant Colonel Henry Cadogan, fought on until every officer had been killed or wounded; only eighty-six men survived to rejoin 22 Brigade after the battle. A battalion which had numbered over 1,000 men two weeks earlier had effectively been annihilated and the remnants were absorbed into 2/Queen’s.

  The loss of an entire squadron of men was undoubtedly a serious setback to both regiments of Life Guards. 2/Life Guards’ war diary records only one survivor from Captain Alex Vandeleur’s C Squadron, while 1/Life Guards’ casualties in Captain Hugh Grosvenor’s squadron numbered over 100; barely six survivors rejoining the regiment later that evening.4 The fate of the Blues machine-gun section and their young section commander, Lord Worsley, is to this day still shrouded by the fog of war.5 Undoubtedly they fought on until the last round had been fired and were then overwhelmed along with the Life Guards on their left and right. By reputation Worsley was not a man to offer surrender if there was a possibility of fighting on and without orders to retire, he and the others gallantly remained in position and played the game to the final whistle and the inevitable conclusion.

  An attempt was made to get a message from D Squadron to Hugh Grosvenor’s men and order their retirement. The first two runners were killed before they got halfway and in his book Lloyd relates a reported conversation between a troop officer nicknamed ‘Santa’ and Driver Tapper:

  ‘Santa, feeling the weight of his responsibility, decided to send a third runner and approached Tapper. It was too late, and Tapper knew it.

  “Look here Tapper” Said Santa. “I wonder if you would try to get through with a message to C Squadron?”

  “Wot me?” Says Tapper. “Look at them two poor blighters out there! No fear! It’s too bloomin’ late anyway.”

  “I say Tapper, your nerves are all in pieces. Have a Morphine tablet.”

  “Ave a wot? My nerves is all right. Ave a bloomin’ jujube [morphine tablet] yourself. I may be a bloody fool, but I ‘aint as big a bloody fool as you think.”

  At that point the argument was terminated by the appearance of a wave of the enemy, and the ensuing ten minutes were hot enough to try the nerves of both Santa and Tapper.’

  It had been a terrible day for the brigade and as the survivors limped their way back to the horse lines at Verbrandenmolen, many of them still in a state of shock, Lloyd recalled the moment Regy Wyndham arrived:

  ‘They looked bedraggled and weary to death as they marched in. Sinbad the Sailor, covered in mud, and with a rifle slung over his shoulder like a Tommy, walked alone at the head of what remained of his troop. His troop
sergeant, Cabby Dawes, had been wounded in the first bombardment, and as somebody tried to carry him back he had been hit again and killed. Sinbad and Cabby were kindred spirits and inseparable at all times. Neither had any thoughts for himself. Their horses were never short of forage, nor the men of rations. Better soldiers than those two and their troop of scallywags and hard cases did not exist’

  There is no official record of whether Howard St George or William Petersen were in the front line trenches at Zandvoorde on 30 October but it is highly likely that they were. In all probability they were positioned on either side of Worsley’s machine-gun section and managed to escape unscathed as there is no report of either of them being wounded. As one would expect, once the dust had settled and the reality of the situation was grasped, there was a great deal of uncertainty amongst the men of the brigade as to who had survived and who had not. One Life Guards officer, who was originally reported missing after the battle, was discovered a few weeks later up in a London military hospital with absolutely no recollection of the battle or how he arrived in England. Even by dusk on 30 October, Gordon Wilson was still unsure of the fate of the missing squadrons but had managed to establish that his brother Bertie was amongst the survivors:

  ‘We suffered considerably. ‘Pickles [Second Lieutenant Hon Francis Lambton] was first of all buried with ten men, and as he was being extricated shot through the head. We fought a rearguard action to enable the 6th Brigade Cavalry to come up, which they eventually did, and are in action now as I write. I have now only 190 fighting men left in my regiment, so you will see we have suffered a good deal. Bertie was in the trench near Pickles, and hung on to the end and came out unhurt. Our casualties for the day were 65. The 1st have lost an entire squadron, and the 2nd, ditto; at least, they have not yet been heard of; also our machine-gun and its men under Worsley … Many thanks for the your letter received today, and for the little box of cigars, which are most acceptable.’