In Great Spirits

by Archie Barwick

  A couple of hundred or so of our Light Horse passed through here this morning. We want them all over here when we break through the German lines.

  19th July. Everything is bustle & hurry this morning, for we are getting fitted up for our charge. Helmets have been inspected to see that there are no flaws in them, extra ammunition has been served out making in all 250 rounds per man, all of us have our pink patches sewn on to the tunic at the shoulder blades (they are about 6 in. square & are there so as our artillery can distinguish us from the enemy — some of the boys look like jockeys with the different colours up). The Dr gave us a lecture on how to adjust the field dressing properly & how to stop bleeding. We are leaving our packs at the dump. All letters & diaries have to be left behind. I am going to give this to our parson, he is a good sort of a chap.

  Mr Graham gave us a lecture this morning & he practically told us to give no quarter & take none. That will suit the boys down to the ground I’ll bet.

  We are going to have a church service here sometime this afternoon, the last one a lot of the boys will attend, worse luck.

  It is a lovely & glorious day today. The sun is shining brilliantly & everything looks nice & fresh. I reckon it is a good omen, for it to be a fine & sunny day for us to move off on after all the miserable weather there has been lately. We go over the parapets I believe tomorrow morning, & then there will be something doing.

  The streets of this little town are almost as busy as Sussex Street in Sydney, for there is an increasing string of vehicles passing both ways — a lot of empties returning from the firing line, while those going up are loaded with ammunition to blow the Huns sky high out of the pure air. You will see all sorts & manners of carts go rambling by: Red Cross waggons & motors galore, water carts, telephone repairers, Army Service waggons, transports of all descriptions & size from the one-horse chaise of the Battalion to the great motor waggons belonging to the different Army Corps engaged on this front. Some traffic I can tell you, while motor cars, bicycles & the ordinary push bicycle are as common as the soldiers who throng the little narrow cobble streets of this French village.

  20th July. Well after all I did not give my diary to the parson, as I was too late, so I decided to chance it & carry it myself. We left our billets in a hurry — we got 10 minutes notice to pack up & fall in. We carried our waterproof & overcoat rolled in bandolier fashion. Had a pretty long & tiresome march & just outside Albert we pulled up & had tea on the roadside. We were now getting close to the scene of conflict for all around us great guns were firing.

  After we had our tea we fell in again & marched through Albert. Lots of Tommies were coming back from the trenches & any amount of them were carrying German helmets & there were some beauties among them too. One thing struck me very forcibly here & that was the utter disregard they had for the German artillery — hardly anything was under cover. Bodies of men were camped about everywhere & horses, waggons & stores the same. You would think old Fritz would blow them to pieces, but the reason is pretty well understood for he is practically blind we have such an absolute mastery over him in the air. He sends neither observation balloons nor aeroplanes up now, that is to say worth speaking of, for as soon as he does our chaps swoop down on them like a hawk on a chicken.

  When it got sufficiently dark enough we moved off for the trenches. When we topped a little rise from where the British front line trench was before the advance started, we could see nothing but a maze of trenches, a regular network — they were one time the German first line, but now all smashed to pieces. We have a lot of field guns in them now, & they were firing like one thing as we approached them. Wherever you looked on the ground you would see shell holes, some of them big enough without a word of a lie to cover 10 horses up. You can hardly walk for these shell holes, the ground is pockmarked with them. All over the place are little white crosses which tell their own tale. They are the graves, just hastily covered over, of the brave fellows who broke the German lines, & who were killed in the charge.

  The German trenches are much superior to ours: they are deeper, better drained, & have all the conveniences possible, even down to electric lights & feather beds. Their dugouts are from 18 to 30 ft deep & any amount of them have rugs, pianos & all sorts of things inside, & beer was to be found by the thousands of bottles. They, like the Austrians, never had any idea of being shifted from these positions for they thought they were impregnable. According to the amount of digging & barb wire there is to be seen, they should have been too.

  We passed trench after trench & at last we topped a rise almost overlooking the battlefield. Here we had to double across for there are no communication saps for cover. I think we all got across safely until we reached an old road that we had to pass down & the Germans were shelling it like mad. We had a few casualties in here but when we left the old road & went down one of the Germans’ old trenches, we should have by all of the rules of warfare lost half our Company but as luck would have it about 70% of their shells were duds. They were shooting like mad at this trench for they knew well enough that all reinforcements had to come down that way. Once we all got crowded up together, now, I thought, we’ll cop it, but fortune still favoured us & we got out of it.

  Leaving the trench we had to rush over some more open ground & pass through a curtain fire that the Huns had on it. Once over this we were soon into a shallow trench, & here we had to stop & act as reserves. A & B Coys went into the firing line the same night, & I think tonight we will be having a charge. Last night we had to dig rough possies in the trenches & today we have to lie as quiet as mice, for if the German artillery spot us they will blow the trench to pieces. They are very suspicious as it is & have kept 3 big guns trained on to it ever since we came in & they keep up a steady fire on us.

  They buried 3 chaps this morning: 1 of them was killed, & we have had a few casualties from splinters. I had a narrow shave for a fair-sized piece of shell struck me on the wrist but it only caused a big bruise.

  As I write this there is a most terrific artillery duel in progress & you can hardly see anything for dust & smoke. We are right facing Contalmaison. She was a pretty little village no doubt one time but now there is hardly a wall left standing.

  I can count no less than 21 of our balloons up & 17 aeroplanes are scouting about. About 2 hours ago the Germans fetched one of our planes down. She was completely smashed up & dived head first to the ground in flames. I think machine gun fire caught her.

  A 3rd Battalion chap has just done a brave deed. He rushed over to within 50 yards of the German trenches & rescued a wounded Tommy who had been there for 5 days. Both got back safe.

  Just close to where I am there is a German gun & thousands of rounds of ammunition. By Jove there is some stuff lying about: rifles, ammunition, wire of all descriptions, clothing, gas helmets & etc, thousands of picks & shovels, & plenty of German helmets. The ground about here for miles is just one vast mass of shell holes. There must have been millions & millions of shells shot away by both sides, & there is any amount of dead men lying about.

  This afternoon a shell buried no less than 8 of our machine gunners but they got them out safely, though all were suffering more or less from shock. It is Hell here alright & would try the nerves of the strongest man. I am absolutely certain we are going over tonight, won’t it be a charge.

  21st July. Was down with a fatigue party this morning to get our rations, such as they are; the food here is very poor & scarce.

  A lot of our Australian artillery is in action today. They are firing like mad & have got the range to a nicety. The way they shell the wood in front of us is something terrific. All day long there are shells bursting in it from 3 in. to 12. I can tell you the latter send the earth & stuff easily 300 ft high & go off with an earsplitting roar. I have seen them uproot big trees, such is their power. Our chaps have never stopped bombarding since we came into the trenches. I don’t know whether you believe it or not but it is nearly impossible to sleep on account of the vibration & co
ncussion, for it is one perpetual & constant roar which never ceases. I reckon for every shell the Germans send over we send 20.

  22nd July. Last night every man was issued with 2 bombs & 2 sandbags, & he has got to take these with him in the charge tonight.

  Coming back from the firing line we had to run the gauntlet of the German guns. They were pouring it in properly — evidently they think we are massing men in a little gully just close to Contalmaison, but they are sadly out of it. The ground around here is simply turned upside down with shells — it must have been something awful, the fire. There are also some German guns destroyed quite close to here. I’ll bet there is about 30 acres of ground that you couldn’t ride a horse over for shell holes & some of them are 15 or 20 ft deep. It is a sight that has to be seen before you can form any idea of what it is like.

  23rd July. Well thank God I have been spared to come through another fierce charge safely & with scarcely a scratch. I think Providence must watch over me, for my luck seems unnatural.

  After I passed my diary in last night, we sent all our overcoats & blankets into a big dugout. At 10.30 we moved out, & all the way we had to run the gauntlet of a pretty heavy shell fire, for the Germans were very suspicious & evidently were expecting an attack. They were slinging their rockets about all over the place, lighting the country almost like day.

  We reached the firing line at 11 o’clock, & took up our positions & waited for the time to come for us to hop over. While in the trenches every man was either given sandbags or picks & shovels, for they are just as necessary as your rifle & bayonet in a charge when you have to dig yourselves in as we had to do.

  At last the fateful hour came & A Coy sneaked quietly out & we followed them. When we were about 100 yards out our guns opened up the bombardment. It lasted exactly 2 minutes on the first trench & we all advanced under cover of it. So good was the timing that when we were about 40 yards off their barb wire the guns lifted & A Coy rushed the trench supported by C. The instant our guns lifted the German batteries & machine guns which had been waiting opened up on us & a torrent of high-explosive shrapnel & bullets were let loose. Men fell in all directions, but nothing could stop the boys now their blood was up. Into the trench they dashed & bayoneted & shot like fury. The squareheads were thunderstruck at the violence of the assault, & hopped out of their trench & ran for their life, with the boys after them hot foot. They dropped everything they had; their one thought seemed to be to get away from the despised Colonials.

  Our Battalion got about 60 prisoners in this trench, & it’s hard to say how many were killed for they were lying all over the place. A & B Coys were supposed to stay in this trench but no fear, on they went like a pack of hungry dogs, now they had tasted blood. This first trench was about 300 yards distant, & on we all swept line after line, but soon all were mixed up together & bunched dangerously close. The shell fire was now hellish & the noise deafening, but just to show you how cool the boys were, why some of them were walking up with rifles at the slope & singing “I Want to Go Home”. What do you think of that.

  At last we reached the railway line, & lay down while our boys pasted the second line with shells. We had not long to wait, but it seemed hours to us lying out in the open waiting for the fire to lift. At last the fuses were lengthened, & like a pack of hounds the boys rushed the trench, our objective, but there was very little in it & it was ours in a few minutes.

  At this period over came the 3rd Batt closely followed by the 9th, 11th, 12th. Scores of our Battalion went on with them to the wood which was just in front. We started straight away to consolidate our position so as to be ready for the counter-attack which usually follows the charge. By daylight, we had a fairly good line dug out & organised & were ready for them to try their luck against the scum, as they had sneeringly referred to us in their papers.

  When day broke we could see what position we were in & our line was adjusted accordingly. We worked till about 9 o’clock, then we had a look around to see what damage had been done. Dead men were lying all over the place, both ours & Germany’s, & the boys were hunting the Huns, like terriers do rats, from the ruins of the village (they were hiding in the old walls & cellars). They quickly accounted for all those above ground & I need scarcely say that very few of them were taken prisoners — the bayonet was the weapon chiefly used.

  You have no idea how fierce & ferocious the boys are once they taste blood — I believe they would charge into Hell itself once they got going. Quite a number of them were killed with our own guns through being too impetuous, for they even tried to rush through our own curtain fire to get at the Germans on the other side of it, & as true as I value my life the Germans were absolutely terrified by the fierceness of the boys’ charge — all the prisoners that we get say the same thing. They have a very healthy respect for us & from what I have seen of them 1 Turk is worth 2 of them as far as hand-to-hand fighting goes. You want to take your boots off if you want to catch them once they are driven from their trenches, for they run like athletes from what I have seen of them. They are a miserable ragged-looking lot with a few fine men here & there among them.

  By nightfall we had nearly 200 prisoners & our booty consisted of 8 guns (5 big howitzers & 3 field guns) & thousands of shells. I don’t know how many machine guns we captured, but we are using one or two of the best against them & we have I might say thousands of their rifles.

  A party from our Battalion marched nearly 100 of them into Albert. The Tommies nearly went frantic with delight when they heard of the success of the Australians. They regard us as marvels: they had failed twice in their attacks on the wood & village & we took it first time. We had a good reputation before but Australia’s name stands higher today than ever it did.

  24th July. Things were fairly quiet last night, but at 6 o’clock exactly this morning the expected storm broke, not as we expect with whizz bangs & 6 in. but 9.2 & 12 inchers. The first hour or two was mostly spent in getting the range. Once they got it they made the pace a welter. They would frighten the bravest man on earth I’ll bet, these enormous great shells. They sound just like an express train rushing through the air, & when they explode it is more like a ton of dynamite exploding. You can see them real plain sailing through the air on their frightful mission & everyone holds their breath & grips themselves for the frightful concussion that arises from the explosion of these monsters. They throw earth & stone, & men too, or rather what is left of them, to a height of easily 300 feet. Words fail to make anyone understand the terrible power possessed by these engines of destruction.

  About 3 o’clock in the afternoon the bombardment reached the climax. The air sounded with one continuous whistle & roar from the big shells that were streaming through it, yes, in thousands. I stood with my watch in hand & counted in 5 minutes no less than 75 shells lob on an area no bigger than 4 acres, & not one of them was under a 9.2 & some were up to 15 in. All day long the ground rocked & swayed backwards & forwards from the concussion of this frightful bombardment. It put me in mind of being on top of a well-built haystack & swaying it about, that’s how the ground behaved. Men were driven stark staring mad & more than one of them rushed out of the trench, over towards the Germans. Any amount of them could be seen crying & sobbing like children, their nerves completely gone. How on earth we stood it God alone knows. We were nearly all in a state of silliness & half dazed but still the Australians refused to give ground.

  Men were being buried by the dozen, but were frantically dug out again, some dead & some alive. One big shell killed & buried no less than 15 men. They were afterwards pulled out in pieces, torn to ribbons, & another 15 incher accounted for no less than 40 men. You might think I am exaggerating it, but as I said before you have no idea what it is like. I am certain they tried to break the Australians’ hearts completely. They say it was one of the fiercest bombardments that has ever taken place on the Western Front. By nightfall the trenches had practically ceased to exist. Pozières Wood & village was an onion bed, for the earth was t
hat torn & shattered. Still they kept an unceasing fire up.

  About 7 o’clock they evidently thought every man was killed & they were not very far out, but still when the Prussian Guards charged they got the shock of their lives, for they got cut to ribbons & the few remaining Australians actually hopped out after them with the bayonet. We took a few of them prisoners.

  We were relieved this evening by the 2nd Bde & if ever men were glad to get out of such a death trap well we were, but we had to run the gauntlet of fire all the way down the communication trench, for the Germans were shelling it like mad — their object of course was to prevent any help reaching us & so we would be cut off. Here & there the trenches were very shallow & we had to make short rushes over them. Even then we lost a few men coming down. As each man left the firing line he took a German rifle with him.

  That night we lay in supports but sleep was impossible for the unceasing roar of the guns. We were constantly digging one another out for they were shelling everything that they thought would hold or be sheltering men. Even the gullies were searched with shrapnel & they killed hundreds in them, for supplies had to be kept up by hook or by crook. While all this was going on an aeroplane flew pretty low down over us & blew the cock-a-doodle-do on her horn & this sort of cheered us up.

  We had a fine tea tonight just before we left the firing line, the cooks brought it up: as much steak & bacon as you could eat & to spare, tea, boiled potatoes & onions mashed together. This was the first square meal we had for some days & we enjoyed it. It’s wonderful how they kept the supply of food up to us during this fearful bombardment.

  25th July. The bombardment continued all night & never let up. I think the shelling is even worse today than yesterday.

  26th July. Last night about 11 o’clock we filed out & I think everyone breathed a silent prayer when they got clear of it — I know I did for I never expected to come out alive. The 17th Battalion relieved us. When we got out to the Gordon Dump our cooks had hot stew & tea waiting for us, how we enjoyed it. God alone knows what a relief it was to us to be out in the clear ground again & among the light & men.