On our way back from the baths we dropped in at a little estaminet & had our dinner. Chips & eggs are the most popular here, washed down with beer, milk or coffee. What a difference to Gallipoli or Egypt. You can drop in at these estaminets, & order your meal, & you know that it will be clean & nicely cooked by the French girls & a very reasonable price paid for it.
30th June. It was very pretty last night, you should have seen the bright flares. The Germans were throwing them over in scores, & the flash of the guns quite lit the dark sky up & the Germans had 4 big searchlights throwing their sword-like beams against the dark clouds. They evidently thought they could see something, for they were shooting shrapnel way up in the clouds & it was bursting with a pretty red flash that stood out so distinctly against the night. They were as jumpy & as nervous as could be & were evidently expecting a raid or an attack. Besides our guns were giving them particular Hell, nor did they cease as the night wore on, instead the fire of our guns increased in volume & intensity, & about 4 o’clock it reached what is known as a “drum” bombardment — that is one perpetual roll. A bombardment from a distance is a magnificent sight, but it’s a different thing when you are under one.
I believe last night the Welsh took 750 yards of trench off the Huns & the Maoris had a success while there was still another successful raid. I wonder how many more times we can raid their trenches without a setback. It seems unnatural, the ease with which our chaps can break into their lines, & practically do what they please with them.
Today old Fritz has been shelling Fleurbaix pretty constant. He is after the big naval gun that they know is here & doing heaps of damage to the squareheads, but they were landing the shells nowhere near the gun. Every now & again, just as if to aggravate Fritz, the big gun would let 3 or 4 shells go. I’ll bet it made Fritz mad.
1st July. Another month started & we are going downhill to Xmas, but I firmly believe the end of the year will see the finish of this gigantic war. Everything to me seems to point to it & I only hope I am right, for I am full up of it. It’s not so bad if we were on the move all the while, but it’s the sitting back in the trenches that kills, the constant drudge day after day, for there is very little difference between one day’s work & another, except perhaps we might work 20 hours one day & 24 hours the next. People have an idea I think that a soldier lives a life of comparative idleness; what a shock they would get if they tried it on.
We are now supposed to be resting & I will give you our daily routine. Our Coy is cut into 2 parties, one a day fatigue & the other night. I will take the night fatigue, for that is the one I am on. We leave our billets at 9.30 each night & walk about 3 miles to our job, which might be anything from pushing & loading trucks to putting up barb wire. We arrive home from these jobs about 4 in the morning, then have what sleep we can snatch till breakfast, about 8 o’clock. After breakfast, we have to fill 250 sandbags, then there is a gas helmet parade or lecture. After dinner we fall in for musketry, which generally lasts about an hour. The rest of the afternoon, if nothing else turns up, we have for ourselves, so you can see we don’t have much time for ourselves, then of course we are always supposed to be ready to move off at a minute’s notice in case of an attack.
Yesterday evening there was a magnificent sight, for the sky was just black with aeroplanes. I counted no less than 47 of them as they flew past. I expect they were bound for a raid somewhere. How old Fritz fired at them but he never done any good for they just kept on going as if nothing out of the ordinary were happening.
2nd July. Last night I was on a different working party. 3 of us had 40 men earthing up one of the avenues leading to the 4th Battalion. It was a fairly dangerous job, for every now & again a couple of German machine guns would sweep the ground we were working on from end to end. At the first crack of the bullets you should see the boys duck, & I can tell you I was never far behind. We would all lay flat on our stomachs & as quiet as a mouse. You can’t help laughing when you look up & see all the silent forms, like a lot of Moslems at prayer.
One chap dug a little shallow hole in the earth, enough to protect his head & body, & when the machine guns started to play he would lie in this, & cock his legs in the air, & sing out to Fritz to do his worst. He was looking for a Blighty but whenever the bullets started to come close, down would come his legs.
While we were on this work a gas alarm came down the lines. Some of the boys put their helmets on & some didn’t. It turned out that we were using gas against the Germans.
About 3 o’clock as we were coming home our chaps opened a tremendous bombardment on our left & right. Didn’t they stick it in the whole German line, for as far as I could see, when the German flares lit up the scene, was a mass of smoke & flame from the bursting shells — a bonzer sight when the Germans are catching it. What a time they are having.
There was a great bit of excitement here tonight. Some of our aeroplanes were being shelled directly over our heads & most of the boys were scattered about outside yarning & lousing themselves when all of a sudden pieces of shell & nose caps started to come down fairly fast. You should have seen the scatter — they all made a break for the cover of the billet quick & lively. You can hear them coming hundreds of feet up but you have no idea where they are going to lodge, & if one hits you well it is goodbye.
Last night we could hear the whistles in the German lines quite plainly. They say they use them for “stand to’s”. They were evidently in great fear of being attacked for the whistles travelled as far as we could hear on both sides of us. I’ll bet they are beginning to wish they had never started the war.
From where I am writing this there is a very pretty scene. On my right the road stretches for nearly a mile in a straight line, & on one side it is bordered by pretty trees, all of an even size. The other side is nothing but beautiful growing crops of all sorts of things, & bonzer hedges, & every here & there an old & picturesque farmhouse nestles among the trees, & growing all over the old houses are fine old grape vines, & they flourish amazingly well & are loaded with beautiful grapes. France is famed & rightly so for her grapes, for she has the goods alright. On my left, the trees are also bordering the road & they run right into the now almost ruined Fleurbaix, once a most beautiful village but now she is a mass of ruined houses & shell-torn streets. Scores of the houses are loopholed & barricaded while not a few of them are mined. In spite of all the shelling & fighting the place has seen, there are plenty of people still in it. I suppose they don’t like leaving their old homes, & would rather run the risk than leave them. What wonderful people the French are.
3rd July. Had a night off last night but it was not much good to me for about 1 o’clock our fellows started the heaviest bombardment that I have ever heard. It is impossible to picture the roar of our guns — everything for miles around was all of a tremble & in our billet the plaster on the ceiling started to crack & fall, so you can guess it was pretty severe.
The Germans retaliated & shelled Fleurbaix & the billets for all they were worth. They got that close to ours that we had to get up & take refuge in some trenches that are always built close to the billets in case of shell fire. They burst the shrapnel all over us but luckily no one was hit.
The shelling lasted for about 2 hours & then our batteries slackened off. After it was over a patrol of ours went across to the German trenches & there was not a living soul left, nothing but a mass of dead & mutilated men. I believe it was something awful in the trenches. The patrol penetrated to their second line & it was nearly the same there. They brought one prisoner back with them & strange to say he had a pass on him made out for Berlin. How stiff was he, though I suppose he can count himself one of the lucky ones.
The power & fierceness of our bombardment was indescribable — Lone Pine was only a flea bite compared to it. If we only had the same artillery support at Anzac we would have chopped our way through in no time. In our area I should think our artillery fired anything from 8 to 12,000 shells in the 2 hours. The firing was that rapid
that you could not hear single reports, just one continual roar, a drum bombardment they call it. The shooting of the artillery was magnificent; they take a bit of beating do our gunners. The most remarkable thing about this turnout was that while the Germans were annihilated in their trenches there was scarcely any casualties in ours. This seems unnatural but it’s true.
4th July. At 8 o’clock last night we held a full muster parade, & were ready to move off, but we had to wait for the 45th to come in. They kept us waiting there till 12.30, real old military style.
We reached our old billets behind Sailly after a march of about 8 miles. Most of us were nearly knocked out when we got here, which was about 4 A.M.
5th July. Am in charge of the billet guard today. The boys have the football going again tonight, the first time for a month.
By Jove there are some magnificent crops around this part. Australia has no idea the way France is cultivated. There’s not an inch of ground hardly that is not under cultivation & talk about crops, well they are beautiful & one can’t help remarking on it, especially anyone like me, whose sole thought is for the land, & all it grows. You can look for miles & miles over lovely crops of wheat & oats up to your head & over & as level as a table. How I would like to have a binder working in them, what work one could make; it would be a pleasure to be slashing it down. The beans & peas here are a wonderful height on account of the great fertility of the soil, which is a splendid sort of dark brown clay, as strong as you like.
Just compare France to Gallipoli & the difference you can’t explain, they are so far apart. Imagine us here bogging into the cherries & plenty of them everywhere (I have had some splendid feeds of them). The trees are never pruned by the look of them, for they are a terrible size & bear well, but of course how could they do otherwise in such a beautiful & magnificent country. I am never tired of praising France, for the country part of her is almost a paradise. It seems funny when you come to think of it, us being here, & shedding our blood over practically the same ground as a branch of our ancestors came from, notably the Normans.
9th July. Reveille at 4.30 this morning. We had to pack up & clean our billets out by 5.30. At 7 o’clock we formed up & moved off. We had our band with us & they played some fine tunes on the march. Just before we reached Outtersteene, our band, which was marching in the middle, left us & went in front. They took up a stand in the town & played us through. There were a lot of the 12th Battalion there & a good few French people.
About a mile outside Outtersteene we marched into a small grassy paddock where we are now resting for a couple of hours, while the Battalion who are now in our old billets pack up & clear out. Everyone has taken their boots & socks off & we are stretched out on the lovely green grass, having a nice sun bath among clover a good foot high & in full flower.
10th July. This morning all the N.C.O.s were issued with a pair of wire cutters, & a lot of the men with bags to carry bombs in. Sounds nice, doesn’t it, but the sooner it’s over the better.
Marched to Bailleul, where we entrained. We got away about 6 P.M., & I think the country we travelled through for the next 4 hours was if possible the finest I have ever seen & that is saying something. As far as you could see on either side of you there was nothing but magnificent crops of wheat & oats. The wheat would run easily from 20 to 60 bushels per acre, it was about 5 or 6 feet high & as level as a billiard table.
When we reached Hazebrouck we were shunted on to another line & off we went, no one knew where, but as we all guessed towards the Somme. We arrived at Fienvillers, Candas, after a trip of 7 hours.
We started off on our journey about 1 o’clock in the morning, little thinking the distance we would have to march before reaching our billets. Just imagine us if you can with everything we possess up including waterproof & blankets, & nothing to eat worth talking about since 1 o’clock the previous day, & we were all as sleepy & tired as could be. Under these conditions we had to march 9 miles — lucky we did not know it when we started off or I am thinking there would not have been many see it through. We kept on plugging away, expecting every turn to bring the long-wished-for billets in sight, but we looked in vain for we walked on & on until nearly everyone was dead beat. At every spell most of us would drop off to sleep through sheer exhaustion, but when the whistle blew, up we would get & plod along till the next stop. It speaks well for the endurance of the men for there were only 2 fell out during this long & trying march, one of the hardest I have ever been on.
At last the long-looked-for finish was in sight, a little village & our billets were in it. We had to wait a little while in the streets, & then everything being satisfactorily settled we were detailed off to our respective billets. Once inside the men never troubled about taking their boots off or undressing but threw themselves down on the straw & went to sleep in a few minutes.
11th July. Breakfast at 9.30 this morning & quite early enough after the stiff time of the last 24 hours. We are not so very far from Amiens here, according to the map. The country we are now in is mostly chalk & very picturesque. It is fairly hilly & well wooded, while the roads are the best I have seen in France.
This evening after tea I went for a walk through a small forest here that joins the town. It is a most beautiful little place: the leaves are that thick that you cannot see the sun shining through & the trees are very tall & scarce a limb on them for 50 or 60 ft up the trunk. There are roads running all through this pretty little reserve.
12th July. Got orders to pack up last night & be ready to move off at 7 in the morning so we had an early breakfast & off we went. Just before we moved off a few more reinforcements joined us. We passed through several villages on the way — they were all packed with our boys of all Battalions up to the 8th. After we had gone about 2 miles we ran into much more hillier country, & the little hills & rises were all covered with lovely wild flowers, which made the countryside a riot of colour. We finished up in Vignacourt.
13th July. I am writing this up in a little loft among some straw on which I have my bed for the night, probably the last soft bed I shall sleep on for some time, for I expect we shall soon be among the thick of it now.
When we arrived at Candas 3 days ago we left some of our platoon there to do fatigues & when they went to the estaminets, they refused to serve them — they said they would not serve Allemand prisoners. They made sure the boys were German prisoners, & when they told them they were Australians that was worse, for they thought they meant Austrians. It took them some time to explain the difference, & when they understood, they gave them a royal time. We are now, you might say, in the backblocks of France.
14th July. Got half a loaf of bread this morning & was very lucky to get it. There is not a bit of butter or jam to be bought in the town.
The Captain reckons we are going to a pretty warm shop; he told us all about it this morning.
We are on very short rations while on the march — it’s wonderful what a small amount a man can live on when he is pushed.
16th July. Got orders last night to pack up & be ready to move off at 9 next morning. I was Orderly Corporal so I had my work cut out to get my work finished & pack up in time.
At 9.30 off we went, our Coy leading & all as merry as crickets. We marched at a good steady pace with 10 minutes breathing space every hour till 1.30 & I can tell you no one was sorry when we reached our destination, Warloy Baillon. Our pack straps cut into our backs like pieces of string & the sweat nearly blinds one; it’s not the distance that counts, it’s the load we have to carry.
When we got on top of a fairly high hill we could hear quite plainly the guns booming in the distance, the old familiar sound again. We had been out of earshot of them for nearly a week, & no one was sorry to miss them.
The billeting part of this town is sadly overcrowded — half of us are sleeping outside under the green & leafy trees. This is bonzer while the fine weather lasts, but no good when it rains & it looks very threatening tonight.
17th July. Physical jerk
s this morning & a short route march afterwards. The Captain told us about his visit to the trenches, & all about the big push. We will be in it in a few days time & from all accounts it is going to be a sort of Hell but everyone is very confident.
Got a letter from Len today — I have been waiting anxiously for news of him. He is in 18th General Hospital at Camiers, & pretty crook; however he is much better off there than here for we are in for a stoushing up for a certainty, for we are going to try & do what English troops have so far failed to do & that is take a wood near High Wood. They have taken it twice, but each time were driven out. I believe the artillery fire is something hellish, & I don’t expect many of us will come out alive. Our Brigade are the first to go over & I think our Batt are leading the charge. It is bound to be a most terrific fight whether we take or fail in the charge.
Most of the Battalions are new & untried practically & they little know, which is just as well for them, what they have to face. I am speaking of course of our reinforcements, for nearly 90% of the men are reinforcements. There is of course no harm in being that — in many ways they are better than old hands, for they don’t realise the danger like one who has been through the mill does, & I believe the old saying is pretty true: that a soldier fights best in his first battle. I’ll bet the boys will go like tigers & take a lot of stopping, however the future is in the lap of the Gods.
Hundreds of motor loads of shells & etc go through here every day; you might say the traffic never ceases, for if anything it is busier at night. As I write this I can hear the guns real plain belting away for all they are worth.
18th July. Received orders at 6 o’clock this morning to pack up & be ready to move at a minute’s notice, so perhaps this may be my last entry in the diary. It is still drizzling rain.
There was a most terrific bombardment all last night; it was just one continuous roll of thunder. There were a few monstrous guns that you could hear above the roar of all the others every time they were fired — I expect they were our 15 inch naval guns of which we have a few in action on this sector.
In Great Spirits Page 12