by Lloyd, Nick
Given the chaos in the German rear lines, it is perhaps unsurprising that the Allies were able to make further gains. Both British and French units pushed on eastwards as best they could, mustering whatever tanks and crews were available, and capturing numerous other villages and small woods. Edward Lynch, an Australian serving with 5th Division, advanced ‘across strange ground into unknown country’ on the second day as they tried to keep the attack going. Every so often they would come across dazed German prisoners or clusters of dead bodies. The battlefield was, he remembered, ‘littered with Fritz dead. Trees, men, war material are smashed into torn and twisted fragments. We root out forty terror-stricken wretches. They’re pitiful to see. With twitching hands and bulging, blood-shot eyes, they continually fidget and flinch, unable to remain still. Fear-haunted men, they remind us of penned cattle that ever mill under the smell of blood.’ After reaching their objective and digging in, they had to wait for relief. Although enemy resistance was light, soon the Germans spied their location and, with the coming of darkness, began shelling their positions with dreaded mustard gas. ‘We have our gear ready to move out and are sitting around in our gas respirators, breathing through the rubber valve. Half suffocated, we sit in the darkness, our noses nearly squeezed off by the nose clips of the respirators, thinking the things we’d like to say about this gas if we only dared remove these stifling respirators.’ Fortunately they were relieved that night and gratefully made their way back to the rear, stumbling along through drifting gas clouds, trying to maintain their direction through ‘smoke-fogged goggles’.33
Moving forward in such an environment was never easy. One Canadian brigade commander, Alexander Ross, remembered that as soon as they had set off on the morning of 9 August (across ‘an absolutely flat plain’), they ‘ran into machine gun fire’. ‘We advanced by our own firepower,’ he said. ‘We kept on going but the troops on the right and left had not been able to get up or advance or start on time with the result that our two attacking battalions fanned out towards the first from the flanks leaving a gap in the middle.’ Although he was able to plug the gap with his reserve battalion, the lack of artillery support made him increasingly nervous about pushing on further.34 Fourth Army gained about three miles of ground on 9 August; another two miles the following day. Debeney’s forces, suffering from a similar set of problems, gained about two and a half miles, including capturing the village of Hangest, while the withdrawal of Eighteenth Army on 10 August saw them making up some progress, reaching the outskirts of Roye.35 Yet it was evident to many of the commanders in the field that resistance was stiffening. Given the fact that almost all the heavy artillery, and many of the field guns, had not been able to get forward, artillery support was patchy. More worrying was the lack of flanking protection, which was usually a recipe for disaster in the Great War.
Gradually and inexorably the battle ground to a halt. By 10 August resistance was becoming much tougher. That day the French First Army was able to encircle Montdidier – its main objective for the battle – but recorded progressively stiffer resistance, dug-in defenders well stocked with machine-guns, and amply supported by heavy artillery.36 The leading units were now operating far from their old front line, and although the intervening terrain was not churned into moonscape by shelling, it still took time to traverse and bring up supplies over unfamiliar ground. The Allies thus encountered an insoluble, recurring problem: how to continue an advance when everything that they needed to attack with – guns, supplies and fresh troops – took time and a great deal of effort to bring forward. Ominously, they were also now entering the old Somme battlefield of evil memory: a tangled wasteland of shell holes and scattered cemeteries, zigzagged by trenches and dug-outs. This was not a good place to fight. Paul Maze remembered the increasing difficulty the cavalry was having in advancing. ‘The horses had to hop over trenches and pick their way through belts of wire which in many places was hidden by the long grass. Many of the horses fell into holes,’ he lamented. ‘It was plain that the fighting was reverting again into trench warfare.’37
German divisions were now being drawn from across the Western Front and sent to the Amiens sector. By the third day, Seventeenth Army had sent four divisions, Sixth Army had sent two, and Fourth Army had handed over another five divisions. Von Hutier’s Eighteenth Army, facing the French, had also been strengthened by three divisions.38 These units were swiftly moving into place, filtering into the villages behind the line and setting up stronger and thicker wire defences and digging in their machine-gun teams. On 10 August, 4th Canadian Division, supported by 32nd British Division, which had moved up to the front, continued their drive southeast, intending to push on towards the village of Hallu. The British and Canadians, supported by the French on their right flank, made some progress, but enemy machine-gun fire and shelling were becoming impossible to ignore, making any advance increasingly costly. Forty-three tanks had been scraped together for the operation, but because of the late issue of orders, the attack went in without the benefit of a smoke screen and in broad daylight. During the day, over half were put out of action, mostly by German guns firing over open sights.39
It was a disappointing and sobering day. 4th Canadian Division’s after-action report gloomily concluded that ‘the enemy’s reserves were beginning to have their effect, and here, as on the right, the attacking troops were confronted with the enemy’s old trench system’.
Progress was naturally slow and casualties were beginning to increase. The ground was impracticable for Cavalry and the tanks were seriously handicapped. There was an unwelcomed reversion to Trench Warfare, and it was evident that further progress could not be made without serious risk and unwarranted losses, unless as in a ‘set-piece’ offensive, the attacking troops were to be adequately supported by Heavy Artillery and an increased number of tanks.40
As might have been expected, both Currie and Monash were becomingly increasingly unhappy about the situation on their fronts. Almost hourly, their offensive momentum was draining away and the Germans becoming stronger. Their men were exhausted. They had few serviceable tanks. Most of their heavy artillery had not moved forward. They were miles from their railheads. An unwelcome increase in enemy artillery fire had now been noticed. Currie and Monash, committed to protecting their men and only fighting on their own terms, were now seeing gains getting smaller and casualty lists rising; the moment – what Clausewitz had called the ‘culminating point’ – had now arrived. The battle had to be called off.
4. ‘Another black day’
The ordeal of the German Army had begun.
General Georg von der Marwitz1
11–20 August 1918
On 7 August, as the final preparations for Amiens were being completed, Ferdinand Foch was made a Marshal of France. The great honour produced no change in the Generalissimo. His daily routine continued as it always had done: an early-morning Mass; lunch at noon (at which current operations were never mentioned); and dinner at 7 p.m., before the Marshal retired to bed.2 One of those who observed Foch at this time was Sir William Orpen, who spent five days painting the Marshal’s portrait in the long, narrow library at Bombon. They would spend ninety minutes each morning, with Orpen at his easel, while Foch sat and smoked. Foch was, at this point, trying to get used to a pipe that some of his English friends had given him, fearing that he was smoking too many cigars. But he did not take naturally to it. ‘He could light it all right,’ recalled Orpen, ‘but after about two minutes it would begin to make strange, gurgling noises, which grew louder and louder, till it went out.’ Much to Foch’s delight, whenever they rested Orpen would get out some cotton wool and clean it for him.
Orpen did much more than just paint Foch. During their sessions, the painter caught a glimpse of how Foch worked and was amazed at the calmness and serenity of Bombon. Every ten minutes or so, staff officers would come and apprise him of the latest developments from the front. If there was good news he would simply mutter ‘Bon!’ and nod his head; if it
was bad news he would make ‘a strange noise by forcing air out through his lips’ and remain silent. One morning, a French general came in (Orpen did not know who) and Foch ‘very quietly, gave him times, dates, places where battles would be fought up to the end of December 1918, naming the French, British and American Divisions, and so forth, which would be used in each’. Orpen later wrote down what Foch had said and was amazed to find that ‘everything went exactly as he said it would till about the middle of October, when the Boche really got on the run’. Orpen took three memories with him when he left Bombon: ‘maps, calmness, and a certainty that the Allies would be victorious’.3
As pleased as he was by the successful initial assault at Amiens, Foch was convinced of the need to continue to push on. ‘Now was the time,’ he wrote in his memoirs, ‘to push our advantage vigorously.’ He would often tell his staff officers that they had to continue the battle; the Germans, he would swear, were just about to break. On the morning of 9 August, General Debeney received a furious order from Foch ordering him to capture the town of Roye as quickly as possible – ‘move fast, march hard, manoeuvre to the front, reinforce firmly from the rear with all the troops you have until the desired result has been obtained’.4 Foch had never really been impressed with Debeney, who was too cautious and plodding for his taste; nevertheless the Commander of First Army was an efficient general, who would get there eventually, just perhaps not as fast as Foch would have liked. At the same time, Foch was working on plans for his Third Army to open another assault further to the south, while Mangin was also preparing to move forward on the Aisne. Foch was haunted by the retreat to the Hindenburg Line that had badly affected plans for the Nivelle offensive in the spring of 1917, and remained concerned that the German High Command would sanction a pre-emptive withdrawal and remove their armies from contact with him, shortening their line and freeing reserves. He was determined to keep on their heels.
After visiting Haig late on the evening of 11 August, Foch issued new orders to continue the push along the River Somme and the town of Bray the following morning. Writing to Haig and Pétain, he told them that ‘maximum results’ must be obtained from the ‘deep penetration’, which ‘must be exploited for all its worth’. He urged that the crossings over the Somme at Ham be secured. Furthermore:
In view of the resistance offered by the enemy, there is no question of obtaining these results by pressing uniformly all along the front; this would only lead to being weak everywhere. On the contrary, it is a matter of using concentrated and powerful action at the most important points of the area, that is to say those whose possession would increase the enemy’s disorganization, in particular would disturb his communication. These operations should be rapidly and strongly mounted by the rapid assembly and employment of the means available and appropriate to the nature of the resistance encountered.
Foch wanted an attack to capture the road junctions near Roye, and another to bring the main road from Amiens to Brie under artillery fire. The flanks of the battle would be secured by further operations; firstly by the British Third Army towards Bapaume and Péronne, and an assault by the French Tenth Army towards Chauny. He wanted the attacks to proceed as soon as possible. ‘Since the 15th July,’ he boasted, ‘the enemy has engaged 120 divisions in the battle. There is an opportunity to-day which may not recur for a long time, and which demands from all an effort that the expected results fully justify.’5
Foch may have wanted an energetic continuance of the battle, but those commanders closer to the fighting thought otherwise. For Sir Arthur Currie, whose corps had done so much to achieve success on the first day, the increasing resistance at the front was troubling. One morning, as his troops were readying themselves to push on again, Currie met one of his brigade commanders, Brigadier-General J. A. Clark (GOC 7 Brigade), who was at his headquarters having his hair cut. As soon as Clark saw Currie, he got up and tried to salute, but the corps commander told him to sit down, otherwise his hair might get ‘nicked’. ‘He just stood and chatted very quietly and informally’, remembered Clark.
He chatted to me as an equal and he asked me, after he’s been more or less complimentary about the performance of the unit and the corps in general, he said, ‘Now, what’s your impression of the situation here.’ Well, I said, ‘I hope that you’re not going to ask us to carry on the attack in this area.’ ‘Why?’ Well, I said, ‘It’s impregnable. There’s nothing but wire, concrete emplacements, we are up against something that we couldn’t find anywhere else and we’d just be battering our heads against a brick wall if we’re sent in here.’6
Currie thought as much. At a conference at Villers-Bretonneux on the afternoon of 11 August, chaired by General Rawlinson, he made it clear how bad the ground was. The other commanders, including Monash, all agreed with him and emphasized how much the enemy’s resistance was increasing. Rawlinson was at pains to stress that there was ‘no intention to try and burst through regardless of loss. Our losses up to date had been comparatively light and he did not intend to use any more men than was absolutely necessary.’ Although Rawlinson did not mind minor operations being conducted to improve the line – bearing in mind the Australians’ tendency to raid – they should not involve ‘useless loss’. No further attacks would be made until the bulk of Fourth Army’s artillery could be brought up, perhaps sometime on 15 August. All tanks were to be immediately withdrawn and all efforts made to get as many serviceable as possible.7
Debeney – as cautious a commander as they came in the Great War – was also feeling increasingly queasy. While he was pleased with the capture of Montdidier, which would later become a textbook example of how to fight a positional battle, there seemed to be little chance of more far-reaching exploitation.8 His cavalry had tried to push forward, but met ‘progressively stronger resistance’ and could not get very far. By the fourth day enemy resistance was stiffening, hostile shelling was much greater, and the ground was increasingly difficult to cross. On 11 August both X and XXXV Corps could only make minor progress across ground strewn with old trenches and against heavy machine-gun fire.9 ‘The combats today have shown that the Germans occupy in considerable strength the old line to the west and south-west of Roye,’ Debeney wrote, ‘where trenches and lines of wire are still to be found intact.’ Accordingly, he had issued orders for the cancellation of his proposed operations the following day. He hoped that a postponement would allow time for his guns to cut the wire and soften up the German defences in front of him before trying again.10
Rawlinson relayed these concerns on to GHQ and recommended that the offensive be called off at once. On the morning of 14 August, he visited Haig and gave him a series of aerial reconnaissance photographs of the Roye–Chaulnes area that showed thick belts of barbed wire and well-dug trench systems that zigzagged across the open ground.11 After seeing the photographs and discussing the matter with his army commander, Haig had to agree. He ordered a further postponement to the attack and wrote to Foch.
During the past 48 hours, the enemy artillery fire on the fronts of the British Fourth and French First Army has greatly increased and it is evident that the line CHAULNES – ROYE is strongly held, while photographs show that the line is in good order and well wired. Moreover, the ground is broken and difficult for Tanks to operate. It is probable that there are at least sixteen German divisions holding the front south of the SOMME opposite the Armies under my command.
Haig informed Foch that under these circumstances he had postponed the attack until ‘adequate artillery preparation’ had been made.12 He restated his position the following day. After ‘careful examination’ of the ground, any continuance of the attack in this sector would be ‘very costly’. He had ordered his armies to continue artillery preparation (with wire-cutting and counter-battery fire ) but they could only make an advance ‘methodically and step by step’. Knowing that Foch would be disappointed, Haig stressed that his Third Army was soon to make its assault, and arranged to meet the Generalissimo at his Advanced HQ
later that day.13
It was evident that a serious disagreement was brewing between Foch, on the one hand, who wanted the attacks to be pressed with determination, and Haig, Rawlinson and Debeney, on the other, who were all convinced of the need to desist. Foch’s desire to keep going was understandable and necessary; indeed his biting, incessant aggression would be vital to the Allied war effort in 1918. Yet in this case he was wrong. Foch may have been only following conventional wisdom in demanding that the Allies concentrate their resources on key sectors of the front, but Haig was coming to a different conclusion. It seemed that he had learnt one of the most important lessons of the Western Front; that it was futile to continue to push troops against prepared positions and reinforced garrisons; much better to try and find another way round. What was needed was a series of offensives across large fronts that would stretch German reserves thinly and prevent them from concentrating their strength. Haig was convinced that if the Germans were strong in front of Amiens, well, then they would be weak elsewhere. British intelligence reports informed him that the German Seventeenth Army, south of Arras, was beginning to fall back, hence his stubborn reluctance to sanction further efforts by Fourth Army, at least for the time being.