Last night an order came through Hqrs for one of our chaps named Ross to pack up & proceed to Australia. It appears that he has had 2 brothers killed in this war & since he has been away his father has died, & now he is the sole support of his mother. Ross himself has been wounded 3 times already so he has done his bit (he came away with the original 1st Div). His mother was the means of getting him out of it. When we heard he was going to Australia we all said “lucky dog”.
6th January. Last night we moved from the support trenches at Pilgrim’s Way & made for the firing line to do our 2 days in misery. We were lucky again for we got through the barrage which Fritz puts down the little valley opposite Gueudecourt of a night time, for he knows that all relieving troops go up this gully. We kept well up towards Gueudecourt & so missed nearly all the shelling. There is one very dangerous place, the Chalk Pits, & round here there have been a lot of casualties. The fatigue party following us ran into a big shell or two & got smashed about; however we reached the firing line safely, & the first thing that met our eyes were a couple of dead men on stretchers & a portion of the trench smashed to pieces.
By Jove I was glad when morning came. I was that cold that I could scarcely talk, everything I had on was sopping wet, & my dugout, which was occupied by 4 of us, was more like a pond than anything else I could compare it to, & my feet were as cold as cold could be. Heavens how we suffer with our feet. About 6.30 our rations & breakfast came up: hot stew & tea & best of all a pair of dry socks for each man.
7th January. What a night we had — one of the most miserable as ever I put in in my life & I shall never forget it as long as I live. To make matters worse for me I had to take a patrol out & find out what I could of the Germans’ movements. I went out at 9 o’clock & took 2 of my best men with me; we carried 2 bombs each & nothing else. We sneaked out for nearly 200 yards & threaded our way among the German dead of which there were hundreds. After getting sufficiently close to the Huns’ trenches, I left the 2 men in a shell hole with instructions to be ready to assist me in case I was attacked & should have to fall back on them. I then crawled forward on my stomach, lying very quiet & low when the flares went up — if I was discovered at this stage it would be all up, for the machine guns would riddle one with lead.
I was crawling forward slowly, keeping both ears & eyes well open, when suddenly I stops dead for there, not more than 40 yards away, were 2 German sentries, their heads just showing over the edge of a shell hole, but by good luck they did not notice me. I sneaked away to the right & from a nice little point got a fine view of the German lines. There were about 30 of them baling out one of their trenches, & I lay there for a fair time watching their movements. At last I was rewarded for I saw 2 patrols sneak out from their trench & make over to the 19th Batt. One of these had 5 men & the other 8, & I also located one of their machine guns & on the way back I discovered a new trench which the Germans were digging. This was a nice little discovery & I was quite pleased with myself.
Shortly after this I picked up my 2 men & we made our way back. Old Fritz saw us & turned his machine guns on us. You should have seen the way we threw ourselves down, mud or no mud, & his bullets whizzed over us harmlessly. When things quietened down a little off we started again but he was waiting for us & down we had to go again. This is no good to us, I thought, so I said to the chaps we will have to sneak back one at a time & I will start out first, so off I went. Just before I reached our trench I watched for the others to come up, & just as each man dropped into the trench a sniper had a shot at each of us. You would have laughed if you could have seen the dive that the last man made — he fairly flew into the ditch.
10th January. Another inspection parade this morning & all overcoats had to be cleaned. It took me, would you believe, 3 hours to clean mine & even then it was in a dreadful state, but good enough for me. Yes, we have some mud alright up here on the Somme. In fact I have been practically all day long cleaning up my belongings & even now they look dirty. Such is a soldier’s life anyhow.
14th January. Sunday once more, & we held a church parade in a heavy snowstorm. Right alongside there is a small wood, all leafless of course, & on the trees snow lay thick. It looked very pretty with the branches bending over with their white load & the flakes falling fast while in the distance could be heard the rumble of traffic on the roads, & further off still the muffled roar of heavy artillery.
16th January. Had the platoon this morning on parade, & Heavens was it cold & the ground as hard as bricks with the sharp frost. Ice has not melted all day, & there is a small breeze blowing & it cuts like a knife.
This afternoon it was all football. A team went from our Coy to play B. It was a draw, neither side scoring. The rest of the Coy marched up on to a vacant piece of ground & had a rough & tumble. About 100 men on the ball at once, talk about fun. They nearly kicked the legs off one another but it kept us as warm as toast.
Tonight Hqrs asked for a description of Bluey Whittaker. He went away on leave at the end of last September & has not turned up so far, but I believe they have tracked him down at Etaples.
17th January. Heavy fall of snow this morning, a good 9 in. I should think. Owing to my boots being so bad I am not on parade & how glad I am, for the rest of them are skirmishing in the snow. By Heavens I’ll bet it is freezing out there & I can see some fun when they come in — won’t they swear, for it is still snowing. As if they could not give them a day off. They might just as well, for the men will learn nothing & it will do them a lot of harm perhaps. Just imagine yourself carrying about 30 lbs on your back & careering over the snow, with hands like ice & the snow falling thick. Then when they come home, they have only cold & crowded tents to go into — it’s enough to make a man jump up & never come down again. So much for the military life. No wonder a big % of the men are crook, & then they wonder why the men don’t turn out smartly. To make sure I would not go on parade this morning I fixed my boot up with the aid of a friendly bayonet, for they are quite beyond repair.
I believe we are moving from here about Sunday, & thus after promising us 32 days rest out of the line. I reckon they treat us rotten — other Divs have 5 & 6 weeks rest but apparently they can’t afford to spell us long.
Today I read an account of the glowing way in which the Australians are being treated in their billets. One article describes us as sitting around huge roaring fires of wood with our clothes pegged on the walls & the men enjoying themselves with jokes, cards & etc. Shows what he knows about it & the other average billets we camp in, but I suppose that the public fondly believe it, & reckon we are having a fine time in spite of the winter in France.
21st January. This evening the church bells were ringing down at the little church at Beauveaux, & they sounded beautifully; so clear & ringing were the tones that came softly over the snow-white fields, but I suppose that the rarity of the cold air had a lot to do with the mellowness. The sound of church bells always sets me thinking of old times.
22nd January. Went for a march this morning & it was a rotten one. They made the pace too hot with the result that the end of the Coy was strung out like a mob of flukey sheep, & the whole had to be halted every now & again to allow the rear to block up. After coming back we fell out & put our gear away & fell in again with our overcoats & rifles & marched away to the baths. While waiting our turn we had to drill our platoons out on the road. This was mainly to keep them warm, but the men could not see this & groused like anything, but it was no good of them growling, they had to drill. The water accommodation was not the best, but what there was of it was good, nice & warm. Best of all we got a bonzer change of clean clothes, & got rid of our chats, hurrah.
24th January. Went for a route march this morning & the road was crowded with troops marching both ways. It was a bonzer morning, clear, sunny & sharp stinging air. The road was in splendid condition, for like all the rest of the country it is frozen as hard as steel. Frost has settled on the land properly & if this is the sort of winters they have in France
, well it will do us. The boys are standing it splendidly, even better than a lot of the Tommies I think. Why I have felt it far colder many & many a time in Tasmania than I have done over here so far. One naturally expected a frightful time after all the gassing yarns we used to hear concerning the awful winter in this part of the world. I thought we would have been frizzled up by this time, but on the contrary we all look in good health with the exception of the majority of the men’s feet. They are very soft & sore, through using so much whale oil & doing a lot of marching.
25th January. Had a short lecture this afternoon on danger of frost bite for the temperature at present is very low, something like 10° below zero, & if you don’t keep moving something is likely to happen.
26th January. Kaiser’s birthday. Wonder what he will be up to.
28th January. Last night after tea I had to do a bit of scouting for picks. After a lot of trouble I managed to get 15 & marched off 28 men in all. Mr Page reckoned we had about 2 miles to walk — I like his idea of distance, it was near 5. On the way up we passed along the edge of High Wood, now merely a bunch of ragged & smashed timber with all the ground pockmarked with shell holes.
Didn’t we get a shock coming back. Going up we kidded ourselves we could walk the frozen ground nicely but I think the dew had settled on the steel-like ground which made it absolutely dangerous to walk on. I was getting on nicely & laughing to myself at the falls the others were getting, when all of a sudden like a flash of lightning up went my heels & down I come a frightful gutser. The pain was so intense I nearly cried with it; all I could do was gasp & roll about. One of my mates helped me up. The boards caught me fair on the muscly part of my leg & raised a big black bruise & wasn’t it sore to hop home on.
I don’t think there was a single man who escaped under a dozen falls. Imagine if you can (but I know you can’t form any true idea) a long track & all the ground covered with snow to the depth of a foot or so. On both sides of this track the ground had been walked on to such an extent that all the snow had vanished, leaving only an uneven glass-like surface frozen as hard as steel. You might say to yourself why did we not go further out & walk on the snow. Well we dare not for everywhere there are treacherous great shell holes & old battered-in trenches hidden by the drifts of snow which had blown into them. The snow over here is not like we usually see in Australia. It is like sand or white powder & the wind blows it about like dust & conceals these holes. Some of the boys had an experience of walking into these & talk about a buster, for down you go until the solid ice pulls you up, which might mean anything from 2 to 6 ft, so you can just imagine a man crawling out of this sort of thing.
Heavens talk about cold & to make it worse an icy wind was blowing — I would not like to write what the boys said about the Hun, France & things in general unprintable. I know my own language was not of the best. Big Bill Buckley, who by the way stands 6 ft 7, simply couldn’t stand on his feet & over certain sections he had to crawl on his hands & knees. A pretty state of affairs, however we reached our camp after 3 hours struggling on the ice, & every man breathed a silent prayer & took various oaths what he wouldn’t do before he would go up that track again. The biggest wonder to me is how someone didn’t break some bones for really it was dangerous to walk on.
29th January. Had no sleep last night for it was too cold, so I got up early & issued the rations, which were short. To give you an idea how cold it is, everything you buy with liquid in it in any shape or form is ice inside & the contents frozen as hard as wood. If you pour water on the ground ice will form under your eyes. Some cold, isn’t it.
31st January. What do you think of this. Our sentries & the Germans’ exchange greetings any time of the day. We are both in full view of one another & it seems to be a mutual agreement for neither side to shoot. We are only 60 or 70 yds away, & you can go out & give a whistle & a couple of Germans will jump up & wave to you.
This morning Jock & I were signalling away to one of them when Jock collars a rifle & holds it up in full view of the Fritz & made a motion of pitching it over his shoulder as if he was tired of war. Fritz was watching the performance closely then he collars his rifle & goes through the same movements.
2nd February. The Coy rose early this morning & went for a bath. They had to walk to Fricourt, a distance of 4 miles or so. I did not go for I was too crook. I am getting much weaker in the chest I think & I know for certain that I am not as strong as I used to be, however this is only to be expected after the exposure I have been through since joining the military. I am expecting a breakdown in a couple of months or so.
It was just as well I did not go to the baths for they could not get a bath on account of the water all being frozen so they got a clean change of clothes & back they came, swearing like troopers.
4th February. This morning the Coy was “fell in” & volunteers called for a raiding party. They got 28 from the Coy, including my humble self, but they turned nearly everyone down & only took 2 from us (they generally take those men who have not seen much service).
A furious bombardment broke out early last night & lasted fully a couple of hours. I cannot describe the terrific thunderous roar of our terrible artillery. The night seemed full of roaring rushing shells as they sped overhead on their destructive career. Just close to our huts there is a battery of 9.2s & every time these monsters fired, something or other would be knocked off a shelf we had at one end of the hut by concussion.
It is estimated that 500 batteries (2000 guns) were in action last night. What it was all over I am not certain of yet, for one hears so many yarns.
5th February. Funny joint we are in this time. We have to lie in our dugout all day & can’t knock about for fear of giving our position away. If the Huns knew we were here they would blow us to pieces, so we take it easy. We have good dugouts. In ours there are 3 of us — Jock, Starkey & myself — & about all we have to do is lie & sleep & I think we make a pretty good fist of it. Last night went to bed at 11 o’clock & did not get up till tea time next day.
Tonight at 10 o’clock our guns put a heavy barrage over the Maze & right up to Gueudecourt. At the latter place our 4th Div were making an attack on a German strongpost. I could not see too well from where I was standing so I ran across to the next ridge & a wonderful scene was laid before me. The whole horizon was lit up by bursting shells which gave the night a weird look as the shells flashed fiery red, scarlet, light yellow & sometimes a pretty bluish green would catch your eye. Among all this medley & all the confusion of colours the Huns added their flares, plainly showing their fear of being attacked. The light from the numerous flares showed to me the great rolling clouds of dust smoke coming from the German lines in ever increasing volumes till at last the bombarded section looked more like a great bushfire, while the heavy shells which kept on falling into the smoke & fumes resembled big trees falling, raising great clouds of bright red sparks. Above all was the roar of artillery. While this was going on the boys attacked & captured the position & 130 men & 2 officers with it. Our casualties amounted to 140, nearly all light wounds.
A message came over the telephone tonight saying that America had declared war on Germany. Hope it’s true for it ought to shorten the war.
I was round at the cookhouse this evening, having a yarn to Digby & McGrath, & while I was there they were cutting up the meat. It was frozen as hard as steel & ice all through — not much fear of getting it flyblown or flabby in this weather. We are getting chestnuts issued to us now instead of potatoes.
10th February. Early this morning I was aroused by Bellchambers’s musical voice calling me. Had an order for No. 12 to pack up & move at once to York Dump to take over from the party in charge there. The pace was very slow for everything is slippery & hard & to hurry is to court disaster.
It took me nearly all the afternoon to take over the dump & get into the way of working. We fell in the soup properly for there were more ammunitions requisitioned for tonight’s work than there is in a fortnight of the usual work
ing. I had no less than 32 trucks to fill with various explosives & I was responsible for the whole concern. The gang started about 7.30 & did not finish till 12 o’clock & by the time I had finished balancing my books & getting the requisition for tomorrow it was 2 o’clock. To give you an idea of the stuff we sent out: 52,000 rounds of S.A.A., 9000 Stokes bombs, 10,000 Mills No. 5, 5000 rifle grenades & the same number of cartridges for them, 24 boxes of Very lights & flares & numerous other small items.
11th February. Last night the raids came off & neither of them were successful. The 5th Batt had a most disastrous night — 60 out of the 100 killed or wounded. The Huns evidently knew of their raid & were waiting on them; they opened up with rifle & machine gun 5 mins before they went over. In spite of all this, they entered his trenches & from all accounts they were in a dreadful state, full of dead men. The opinion seems to be that Fritz put his barrage in mistake over his own trench with disastrous results for themselves. On account of the heavy casualties they had to send a party of the 12th Batt to give them a hand.
12th February. Outside the snow is falling thick & fast, but at the present time I can laugh at it for I am quartered in a big warm dugout with a coal fire & plenty of tucker. They feed us well on this job; we draw our rations from Div, which is always best, for you get far more liberal rations from them.
14th February. Went for a short route march this morning as far as Péronne Avenue & came back & started rifle drill. I never saw the men so dopey before — they were more like a lot of old women — & worst of it I could not shake them up for I can hardly speak I’m that hoarse. It makes me mad to look at a lot of men with no life or snap in their work.
Well having a fair bit of time on my hands tonight I am going to try & describe an ordinary 24 hours in a garrison trench. You can start your day any time you like for there is no beginning or end to any day in the trenches. Let us start say at half an hour or so before dawn, the hour of stand to. This on the whole is the most dangerous of the 24 — the enemy may be planning an attack on your defences. If so he will have made use of the hours of darkness to complete his arrangements to push troops across no man’s land, ready to dash forward at the break of day. Therefore at this hour every available man “stands to arms”. We line the parapet, peering out into the darkness, watching the grass in front of us turn from black to grey & from grey to green. When it becomes quite light & there is nothing unusual to be seen, we “stand down”, leaving sentries every here & there along our trench.
In Great Spirits Page 23