To Fight Alongside Friends

by Gerry Harrison

  Fritz has been quiet since I have been in but it is the first time I believe. He is rather great on sudden strafes now, and we all live in expectation of being next to share his little flutters.

  3rd May ’16

  Up all last night messing about on top with Nanson – who, by the way, took it very well for the first time under fire – looking after the men digging a new trench. They worked like trojans and were through by this morning deep enough for the general to walk along so be it he wished to.

  Today we have carried on with various [working] parties everywhere and Don and myself were shelled with one whilst having a look at its progress. Fritz put over about half dozen whiz-bangs all round us. It was quite exciting for the moment.

  This evening we have taken over from D Coy and are now in the firing line for five days. There is a tremendous amount of work to do and I cannot think that we will be able to complete it.

  Quite an exciting little patrol tonight. Hadfieldxii got across to Fritz’s wire with a [working] party just in time to see one of their working parties put to a disordered rout by a lucky rifle grenade of ours. Our party was then seen and a large patrol of Fritz came out and tried to cut it off so that Hadfield had to retire to a flank and spend an hour getting his people back to us. This, however, he achieved without mishap.

  One of the men, Dooley, a most unpromising specimen in Prince’s platoon, I heard a good story of today. Dooley was sitting on the Paradisexiii one night when our batteries opened on Fritz. One of the shells pitched short and entered the ground with a fierce thud right under the spot where the man was sitting. It was a dud. ‘God bless the fool who made that shell,’ said Dooley, and never troubled to change his position.

  4th May ’16

  Another day of work in the trenches and a night off work out of them. The Coy is doing well and making a good show.

  Fritz has shelled us a bit and put grenades and canisters over quite freely. Such things are fast becoming a usual feature of the daily round, a feature of the general enlivenment of the line.

  Lloyd was wounded tonight with a shell splinter in the leg and Murray was taken away at a moment’s notice to take charge of C.xiv I do not think Lloyd is seriously hurt but of course it is rotten for him and for us. It means the battn has to go minus a valuable officer.

  Hadfield was out patrolling again tonight but this time there was nothing exciting, Fritz keeping to his trenches.

  5th May ’16xv

  More work and more progress, more trench-mortaring and rifle grenades on both sides all the afternoon and night.

  The Company continues to do well. We wired the whole of the support line tonight, got some more out in front of the fire trench and have made first rate progress with the traverses in both trenches. Our wiring was mentioned in Brigade Trench Orders today and I earnestly trust we may get a special mention before we are finished.

  I had to go down to the Second Line this afternoon, leaving young Nanson in charge and, whilst I was away, Fritz opened a hurricane fire on poor old Mansell Copse sector. I hurried back thinking the young fellow might be a bit nervous but found him quite calm and cool. I think he will turn out all right.

  Sgt Whitehead had a real good patrol ‘stunt’ tonight. He got over with six men inside the German wire and threw bombs into their trench. They were challenged and a sentry called out ‘English soldiers’. Rapid fire was opened on them from all round and bombs thrown but the whole lot got back safely. It is good going.

  6th May ’16

  Another day of work and strafing. I think our patrol of last night is the main cause of the latter. It has upset Fritz. He put over today and tonight about 100 rifle grenades and forty canisters. It makes things pretty lively and one is always in an unpleasant state of expectancy. I expect, however, that he is in precisely the same frame of mind seeing that we dropped 80 grenades upon him, about 20 Stokes bombsxvi and 10 or a dozen sixty-pound mortars. The night was an intermittent flash and bang, both of varying intensities and one was continually subjected to most unpleasant jars and shocks. It is a great game. Shelmerdine and Oldham have been amusing themselves collecting dud Fritz grenades and extracting the detonators. Shelmerdine nearly blew himself up. I call it a most unhealthy lust for souvenirs. Personally when such things fail to explode I am only thankful. So is Murray. We are not fire-eating soldiers, Don and I. We should prefer to kill the Hun from the safe seclusion of a bomb-proof dug-out and I feel we have something of a grievance that such a desirable state is denied us.xvii

  7th May ’16

  Nothing much to record today. It has just been a usual day of work and sunshine, very pleasant and not at all warlike. Fritz has been quiet as have we. Quite a change from yesterday. Prince is not well which makes us rather shorthanded but I hope he will be all right after a full night’s rest and able to take on tomorrow again.

  I had two ripping letters from you tonight in one of which you mention having seen Garside and how the meeting pleased you. I am very glad, my own, because I know he will have assured you of how safe I really am. It was fortunate for me that he saw Baby because now I will be able to hear first hand how the sweet mite looks and is. What a picture of peace and comfort and all that is sweet and clean in life thought of her brings before me. And how I simply long for leave and the sight of you both again.xviii

  A really splendid little affair has just taken place. A patrol of mine under Sergeant Hadfield – six men – went out from F 12.3 at 8.30. Nanson was in the line but I went up too, as, being a bit of an old woman, I like to be there when there are many of the men over the top. One never knows what may happen. About 9 o’clock Nanson sent for me and, hurrying up, I found young Fortune,xix one of the patrol, on the parapet asking for me. It appeared our patrol had bumped a German one about thirty strong and Hadfield wanted the Lewis gun on them. There was a wiring party out but Nanson had already told them to lie down. It was a bit risky but I told the gun to fire which it did, keeping high and strafing the Hun parapet. I fired for morale effect only and hope this was achieved. We put in two magazines and then Fortune came back, under fire from the German line, to say some of the Fritz patrol had been pushed forward and asking for further orders. I sent word to Hadfield to bomb them and then withdraw. On receipt of this he pushed his bombers forward, and Clarke,xx one of them, shot and killed a Hun. All three then stood up and threw their bombs among the main German party where they exploded. Fritz at once bombed back and opened fire not only from his patrol but from all along his parapet. We therefore did the same and the fun became fast and furious – a regular private battle. Under cover of it our patrol came back, Fortune first crawling painfully and calling out, ‘Oh, sir. Oh, sir.’ He had been hit twice, poor boy, and was suffering from shock. Then Hadfield brought the rest in. Five had been hit, Hadfield twice also, but he had stuck to his job, helped Fortune through the wire under a stinging fire and then seen the remainder in. He has done well, as have they all.

  8th May ’16

  We came out tonight after a fairly quiet day. The Staffordsxxi took over from us and the relief was quick and easy. It was a lovely moonlight night and the walk down to Bray top hole accordingly. Rather, I should say, the ride down, for Murray and I jumped an ammunition wagon whose driver gave us a lift. It was a swift ride though somewhat bumpy, the road being rough, the cart unsprung and the horses fresh. However it was quite enjoyable and another little experience. One cannot have too many. xxii

  9th May ’16

  The usual slack day of rest. A bath this morning in the Divisional tubs and a stroll round in the afternoon with Worthy and Don Murray. In the evening we called in at the Brigade Bombers where I was introduced to the First Seven Divisions and found it so absorbing as to entirely captivate me and take me out of the conversation until my rudeness was impressed upon me and I was forced to put it down.xxiii

  It reminded me of the great fight of the Buffsxxiv and Yorks and Lancs, Richebourg way, against a German Army corps. They struggled there for three
days supported by two puny batteries of 18 pounders, and held the assaulting mass till the evening of the third when sheer weight of numbers forced them back. The Buffs had four and the Yorks and Lancs six hundred casualties but morally and in point of casualties the victory was theirs. It was a soldiers’ fight, clubbed rifles in a wood – mêlée with the shells to separate the sides and those only – and all that sort of thing. Hats off to those old Regular battalions. Tough and hard and efficient they were, trained to a turn, plucky to the bone and led by the pick of the nation. Neither their memory nor their deeds will ever fade and the latter, though emulated, will never be excelled.

  Chapter 10

  ‘The flickering, angry light of a burning village’

  10 May–3 June 1916

  10th May ’16

  A ride with Worthy today round the battery over the back of the hill and back along the river from Etinehem. My favourite little ride that is.

  There is now to be a ‘stunt’. We are going to raid Fritz and capture or kill some portion of him. That is good, and I pray it may be a great success. Young Shelmerdine is to be in charge with Street and Cansinoi to help him. It will be a regular slap-up affair – tons of artillery and all that. The line is livening up with a vengeance.

  Had grub at HQ tonight and quite enjoyed the change. Tawney is back and in great form. He is a regular Benedict now. One of us. Good luck to him and his wife. He tells me they saw you in London. I envy him. But I look forward confidently to the time when I will be in the same fortunate position.ii

  11th May ’16

  I was talking with John Cotton this afternoon, up on the top, where he was superintending the digging of the trenches for the ‘stunt’. John dearly loves the Top Men. He is the best fellow in the world. That is his only weakness, if, in his case, weakness it be, for he is so artless about it all that one is only conscious of humour in regard to him. His latest acquisition is a friend he has unearthed who commands a battery near here. The younger, irrepressible element of the battalion call him the ‘Jamp’, which, being interpreted, means ‘John’s Artillery Major Pal’. ‘Jamp’ is a nice man, though, at the moment, rather a disgusted one. It appears that the man who had the battery before him was quite incapable and was bundled home in a hurry. And no sooner was he home than he was promoted colonel, mainly in view of his invaluable experience of the front. ‘What a game it is.’ I veritably believe that if half of us here got home and played to the gallery a bit we’d be colonels in a month with fresh battalions to mould.

  It would be quite easy. Yet nobody does it. Which speaks well for the high-mindedness of the majority of British officers. Few are self-seeking. Honour is undoubtedly our national standard of value. A man would greatly prefer a small lift where the lift would really mean to him that he had earned it than a big lift where his conscience might not be so clear. I think it our greatest national asset – this desire for justified honour. It is the secret of England’s greatness. Her heart is clear and true and lucre does not really matter to it.

  12th May ’16

  The Staff have started a new game. It is called ‘Programmes of Work’. And it goes like this. OC Companies, Battalion Commanders and others whom it may concern have to work out when in the trenches a schedule of how they are going to occupy the time they are out of the line with training. Accordingly this is done, in neat, tabulated form on sheets of flimsy, and duly submitted for approval. The Staff, I take it, is awfully bucked with it. One can imagine them looking at it, rubbing their hands and saying, ‘Splendid, splendid, every hour occupied – and most profitably. It will indeed do the men good.’ And so everyone is happy with the exception, perhaps, of the aforesaid OC Company or Battalion Commander. Those belonging to this series who still have any conscience left maybe worry a little. A conscientious man would when, knowing his company is down for company drill, he finds himself with three cooks and four light duty men as the total of the unit under his command. The Staff have taken all the rest for mining parties, digging parties, demolition parties and a hundred and one other parties all graced with high-faluting names. A conscientious man wants to tell people. An ordinary one just says, ‘My poor devils never get a minute’s rest,’ gets on his horse and goes off for a ride, knowing full well that the Staff will be quite happy with their ‘Programme of Work’. What a game it is! What a deadly game for a man who takes life seriously! His sort get invalided home. The best way is to seek for the humour of the situation. Which reminds me that we’ll find amusement in the grouses and grumbles of those who still soldier at home. If they only knew it, what a bed of roses are they on. They do not yet know that they’re alive. There a man does one eight hour day, has eight hours’ sleep and eight hours to himself. And then he grouses. The poor fool. Here, in addition to being under fire all and every day, in the line and out, he does hard manual slogging for about 14 hours out of the 24 and averages about five hours’ sleep per diem. I am afraid there will be a bitter awakening for some of the lads at home. No, I am not afraid, I am glad. It will make men of them – or they will go under. And the sort that go under are better there.iii

  We had another company concert last night – a really splendid show. So good that we give it again tonight for the men who couldn’t get in last night. These things are the goods.

  13th May ’16

  There was a strafe on our right last night, on the front of our old division. It appears the 18th caught it pretty severely but gave as good as they got and did very well. The King’s were also in it, doing good work. They are fine battalions and it is a good division, the old 30th.

  We gave the second concert tonight. Hundreds of men were turned away. It would be worthwhile to run a show every night only, if we did, the Hun would most likely get to hear about it and shell us out of our theatre. Therefore here it can only be an occasional treat.

  I have started on a map and data for a lecture on Townshend’s doings in Mesopotamia.iv It will, I think, be good hearing for the men, since, though that force is now lost to us, its example of gallantry and endurance still remain to help us over any bad patch in the unfailing way heroic examples do. Preparations are about complete for our raid on the next tour in. I wish I was in charge of it. It will be a good thing and should bring credit on the battn and aid in killing some more Bosche, the end we are all here to attain.

  14th May ’16

  The CO has come back from Flixecourt today, full of beans and fierce anti-Bosche ideas. I am glad he is with us again.

  The news of the loss of 500 yards of trenches at Givenchy is to hand this morning and now no doubt we only have to await the paeans of victory in the German press. There is no doubt that the Hun works his army to political ends very successfully. We do not. We prefer to hold our toll of life till we pay it for something big. No doubt we are right in the end. It is an English characteristic to be slow. The victory in the Great Battle is what, after all, will be the only thing that matters. When we do strike it will be with a most mighty blow.

  The Hun method is to concentrate every piece of artillery on a small front, pound it out of recognition and then advance on the remains, making prisoners of those few unfortunate men whom it was not possible to evacuate during the bombardment. These little successes are and can only be temporary but they look well in the papers and our press does little to show them in their true proportion. It enlarges upon any such minor success of our own and is thereby compelled to give equal prominence to what the Hun does in reply. It is a pity, since it puts us perilously near the same ridiculous position in which the German press now finds itself through its over-indulgence in roseate prognostications of what its U-boats were going to do to the ‘hated English’. We are, by the way, only four days off our extermination now. Leaflets dropped in Corbie have promised that we shall be wiped off the face of the earth on the 18th inst., though precisely how it is to be done is not stated. That is rather inconsiderate of our chivalrous foe. To complete his little act of gallantry he should have certainly told us how.r />
  15th May ’16

  Sunday – and I am afraid we took advantage of it, lounging in bed till 8.30, reading and smoking. It is the first time we have been able to indulge in such a luxury for months – and we appreciate it to the full. As you were, today is not Sunday but Monday. It was yesterday we lay abed. This morning we were up betimes. It is wonderful how one gets mixed with the days here and how one can forget by the evening exactly what occurred of a morning.

  This evening we have been up to Durham Trench and Peronne Avenue, practising manning them in case of attack. It was almost as light as day but the line was abnormally quiet, so that we were able to do all we desired with as much ease as if it had been day. The moon was really extraordinary in its brilliance.

  Ram is back from leave and not looking at all well. He was ill whilst at home, unable to sleep and that sort of thing. I am told that it is nerve trouble but I trust it may pass off. We can’t afford to lose Ram from our list of officers. I always thought him so strong and brave too, one of the last fellows this game would affect. However, we shall see! Perhaps his furlough has been a trifle strenuous.