CHAPTER TEN
Somme, France, 1916.
30th June 1916.
Well it’s pretty fair to say that I broke my promise, seeing as it has been nine months since my last entry, even though to be fair it seems like it was only yesterday. The war is still in full swing and the hatred and hostility towards each other is growing every single day. Understandably so I guess, because by now hundreds and thousands of men must have died, and God knows how many German deaths I am single handedly responsible for. Our platoon has been fully assembled again after a number of us had about a two week leave, and I think we have been back at the front for about three weeks. Of course this did not include myself and Rob we stayed at war – we still have nothing to go back too.
When the others came back to the front, we were sent to a town called Mametz. We were informed that it was near a long and wide river, which the locals call the River Somme. This next battle would occur in the areas of land around the river and as soon as I arrived I knew it was going to be a huge and no doubt decisive battle, well if the extreme preparations are anything to go by.
During these past couple of weeks we have been assigned tasks that range from digging the trenches deeper and wider or sentry duty, as well as regular drills and practices that were put in place. Digging the trenches was a horrible task. They would be dug during the night and the other day I started at around eleven in the evening and didn’t stop until about five in the morning, it was exhausting. Sleep has become a ghost. If you were not digging the trenches, then you didn’t sleep because of the noise the soldiers with the shovels were making and not to mention the guns we had set off a couple of days ago. Noise was constant. If I managed to achieve three hours of sleep in twenty four hours, it was an achievement of the highest kind. The trenches are not the only thing that had been ‘built up’ for this battle. The numbers of men have almost doubled and it is a tight fit in the trenches to say the least. Grumpy and unwashed men tripping over one another is never a good combination.
I overheard Roger talking to Sergeant B. Miller the other day, about how the quantity of equipment was extraordinary. Apparently something like one and half million shells had been stockpiled, which to Roger’s knowledge was more than the British had used for the entirety of the war to date. Sergeant B. Miller made some typical comment saying ‘if only we had that at the beginning of the war, the German rats would not have stood a chance’. That man is completely full of hate and war has only fuelled that anger. Rather than being able to assess the fact that we are just as bad as the Germans and if that were not the case, then we would not be at war. It was as simple as that, but of course he does not see it that way.
Today I have felt the need to be by myself, but as you can imagine I did not get any peace, not with I would guess around 100,000 men squeezed into the trenches. This has been my only time alone, and well when I say alone I mean every man within the five feet radius of me is asleep and I’m having to write this by moonlight. It’s a warm night and this battle will begin at zero hour tomorrow and well to be honest I’m more nervous about this one that I had been on the first day of war. I don’t know why but I still have a gut feeling, that this could very well be my last entry and that my luck at war is just about to run out. Almost like the sand in an hour glass. My time is about to seep through the hole.
Trying to sleep was no comfort whatsoever for today the entire world around me is clouded by misery and hell, I fear that the emotion of what we call ‘love’ is simply an illusion. We cannot feel love. We would not do this if we could. Men have searched have they not, for that one person to change the world? That person so loving, kind, honest and true right to the very end. I can tell you now that person will never come, they simply do not exist among us. I need something that will give me the courage to go out and fight, I need that desperately but I can feel it in my bones, that something is just not right. In some ways, writing this is a kind of comfort to me, even though I have no idea why. I can write and even if I begin to rumble on a bit, it doesn’t really matter. I can write what I want.
I am the boy from the village.
Who wished for no great story in life.
But yet in this bitter wind of fear and death, I am the power in a soldier’s courage.
I am the survivor of the lost, of the weak and I am the breath of the strong.
I am the warrior of the great. Yet my heart is as powerful as Romeo’s love.
I thank whatever tears have been, for they will surge
no more.
I will be unafraid when I walk hand in hand with death, on this day to come.
My soul will be brave.
I will prevail.
….
The battle is set for zero hour, seven thirty in the morning on the 1st July 1916. The sun has been up and burning for hours, it is almost the perfect conditions for battle, just a bit too humid but we could cope with that and at least there would be no mud. Yet for some reason, this French sun feels strange and cold on our skin, compared to the warmth and love of our English sun. With her dazzling sun rays bouncing off her majestic blue skies, creating an image of an endless ocean in the blue above. Ten days ago on the 21st May 1916 the guns began and slowly started to destroy the German trenches, the barrage never stopped and it continued day and night, it was a miracle if you got any sleep. Now we have about an hour before the battle begins and the last crucial preparations are made.
Roger has said that this will be an easy battle for us, a walk over he explained. Well with almost the triple amount in men and not to mention the stocks of supplies and weapons that are filled to the brim, how could it not be? I however do not share this view. The Germans are clearly putting up a fight. They are brave men just like we are I suppose, and they were determined to hold onto every piece of land they had with an extremely tight grip. Their preparations were nothing short of brilliant. It was as if someone went to the effort of filling every hole in a sieve so that it defeated its purpose and no water would fall through.
Still, all I can do is sit tight and wait for the outcome of this battle, just like always. There is about ten minutes to go until the battle commences and absolute final checks are being made. I made sure that I had all of the equipment I needed for my war. Aside from my bayonet and rifle, we had to carry 150 rounds of ammunition which we carried in belts and pouches, 2 mil bombs, our identity tag, two canvas bags, a respirator and gasmask and our service cap. On our backs we carried a waterproof sheet, field dressing, our paybook, toothbrush, soap and towel, spare bootlace, tin to eat from and its cover, fork and spoon, emergency rationing which included a biscuit, a water container, a smoke helmet, wire cutters and some men even have to carry barbed wire, so we can hold the German trenches as soon as we arrive. It was a heavy load.
Also according to Roger for this particular battle we have about 900 yards of rough ground until we reach the first trench, which is our first objective and then about another 1500 yards to a further trench where we will then wait for orders. The men were checked and put into position. Some men look eager to fight and ready to kill their ‘enemies’. Others however looked nervous and were fidgeting around like school children being told off by the headmaster. Sergeant B. Miller and Roger started the platoon inspection and I could see that Rob was definitely the previous. You could see his eagerness a mile off. It was not an eagerness to kill though, it was an eagerness to get the battle done and finished so he could move on with his life. So we all could.
“Right private, you know exactly where to go?” Sergeant B. Miller asked Rob.
“Yes Sergeant, but I just wondered, what is the exact mission?” Rob asked.
“Well for you private, it is to simply kill as many Germans as you can. Got it?” Sergeant B. Miller replied, in the bluntest and coldest way, even if it was one hundred percent true.
“Yes Sergeant” Rob replied with a bowed nod.
The final checks continued and with less than two minutes to go until zero hour, or seven thirt
y in the morning, Sergeant B. Miller decided to give our platoon some words of ‘encouragement’, in his view anyway.
“Now if any of you turn back without instruction or clear order then you will be shot and this trench will be guarded by our own” Sergeant B. Miller stated, speaking the harsh truth.
Not meaning to, Roger caught my glance and I turned away instantly as Sergeant B. Miller continued his speech. Although we worked together to survive war, the past had not been forgotten and we were not really ‘friends’.
“As corrupt and as wrong as that may be, that is the way of the world that we selfish humans have created. This is war, there is no morality. The fear you have now is what makes this war fight on. War eats on us and the fear gets stuck on our skin, but layers of skin fall off over time do they not? Your fear and my fear will eventually vanish and turn into courage. Such amazing courage. Now go out there and fight for your country. Make the Germans quake with fear and regret that they ever stepped out of their boundary lines. They got too big for their boots so to speak, and now they have to pay. Fight for the brave. Fight for the fallen! Be brave! Demolish your fear!” Sergeant B. Miller concluded.
His speech made some men nod in sturdy agreement, while others were nodding their heads like excited puppies. With less than a minute to go Sergeant B. Miller gave the final instructions and he ordered us to get our bayonet attached to our rifle. Everyone followed the order in unison. Ten seconds, five seconds, two seconds the watch ticked and time struck seven thirty in the morning, it was zero hour. Time for battle. We advanced.
One by one, up and down the trenches, we climbed up the ladder and over the barbed wire onto no man’s land. We advanced, slowly and carefully, slithering like a poisonous snake ready to strike at any moment. We advanced well, keeping in formation and keeping alert. About ten minutes had past and there had been no attack from the Germans, which set my teeth on edge. As the early morning mist was just clearing we got to see the barbed wire, guarding the first German trench and the first objective. With a sudden uproar in blood, the machine guns began and the Germans were now awake. The attack was deadly and the entirety of our platoon fell down to the ground. Some were most likely dead or dying but a lot of us were still alive. I had fallen down in between Sergeant B. Miller on my left and Rob on my right. We all appeared to be fine, just a bit shaken. Well what can you expect? You never really get used to this. Our minds went straight into battle reflex mode and we got our guns and ammunition and fired back as hard as we could. The hard part was trying to spot where the men loading the machine guns were hiding. If we could shoot them down, we had a good chance at making it to the trench, with all of our limbs intact. The one who had the eyes of the eagle in this platoon was Rob. Even Sergeant B. Miller recognised his skill and with visibility becoming harder went for his advice.
“Private! What direction!” Sergeant B. Miller shouted across the sound of a thousand bullets.
Watching Rob, while I fired my gun I saw him studying the horizon just beyond the barbed wire. His eyes stopped just to the East and he gave Sergeant B. Miller the subsequent instructions.
“To the East! There’s about four of them behind each gun! You might be able to get them every two seconds! That’s when they seem to re-load!” Rob shouted.
I looked towards Sergeant B. Miller and he nodded. I followed Rob’s instruction and sure enough, if I squinted really hard just to the East I could see the Germans peeping out from behind the machine guns every two seconds or so. I aimed my gun and fired it. With Rob and Sergeant B. Miller on par with my shooting we managed to get them. They fell down like dominoes and about twenty minutes or so later the guns subsided and we used this chance to crawl forward and take the trench. We were already behind schedule. Eventually we made our way crawling through a mixture of blood, grass, mud and bodies until we reached the barbed wire guarding the German trenches. When we felt ‘safe’ enough, we stood up, but still in a crouch. We took our wire cutters and began to cut the wire so we could proceed. The guns that had been set off before the battle started this morning, seemed to have achieved some considerable damage on the German defenses and we were able to jump into the trench, with relative ease now we had killed all of the enemy machine gunners.
As soon as we landed in the trench, we saw the effect of our bullets. They were all relatively young soldiers and some of them appeared to have parts of their face missing. Others were covered in so much blood their skin was now stained in red and not white or the light tanned colour they would have been born with. If you have ever wondered what the devil looks like, you simply had to take a mirror out here, in the middle of a brutal war and look at the reflection. That would be your answer. Some perceive war as a sport or as a game. In this case it is a game played by monkeys who are behaving like the class clown in the village school, or at least men with too much power in their laps and too much beer in their hands.
We took about ten minutes to make sure there was no other German still alive, or at least they were in the process of dying. We secured the trench and claimed it as our own. Everyone I cared about was safe and Sergeant B. Miller was determined to move on and he got us ready to leave.
“Leave our wounded men and get others ready to move” Sergeant B. Miller said giving Roger his instructions.
Tim was standing just behind me and he had heard Sergeant B. Miller’s instruction, when his beliefs did not support this view.
“Surely Sir, if they have a chance of life?” Tim argued.
“Do you want to risk your own neck and ours by slowing down the entire mission, to try and save them even though they will die anyway? Don’t go holy on us now, you’re a soldier for crying out loud” Sergeant B. Miller replied.
Tim’s response was silence and Sergeant B. Miller finished the conversation.
“No, I didn’t think so, now get a move on unless of course you want to be lunch for the Germans!” Sergeant B. Miller ordered.
As instructed, we left the wounded as hard as it was, but they would have to wait for either the reinforcements or the medical corps to arrive. It was a harsh rule, true but harsh and well, they do not call it war for nothing. Sergeant B. Miller ordered some men to guard the trench and led the rest of us out to advance to the next objective, 1500 yards away.
We crept forward and we were just as cautious as we had been when we left the trench at zero hour. It was with the knowledge that the Germans were now awake at war and as alert as a night owl, which made us nervous. Sergeant B. Miller was just a few feet ahead of me, Rob was still on my right side and Roger was to the left. A few feet behind the three of us stood Paul, Johnnie and Tim. We had to change formation slightly, to replace the men that had fallen, but we stuck too our new positions like glue. We were no more than 100 yards away from the first objective that we had just taken, when we came under another vicious attack. As the fighting continued, the same routine applied as it does in every battle. When the symphony of bullets began, every man falls to the ground and begins to shoot in a random direction that is of course until the eyes of the platoon Rob, spots the exact direction to shoot. Then we could get the Germans. Another thing no one ever mentions about war, is how deadly repetitive it can be.
Comparing it to the battle earlier this morning, this was a hundred times worse. We were a lot closer to the German trench last time and even Rob could not spot the direction in which they were firing from. The terrain we were lying on was our own worst enemy. The land was completely flat and there was no possible shelter. Well none apart from the few ditches here and there but by now they too were filled with dead bodies and blood. There was nowhere to hide.
What felt like minutes of fighting, was more like hours. Six or seven hours to be more exact. The sun was just beginning to drop and we had made small progress. We were crawling nearer and nearer as the hours passed to the next objective and Rob was able to spot the German machine gunners when we were about 200 yards away. It took us another three hours of endless fighting until
the guns stopped and we could crawl all of the way forwards to get the trench and then grasp it out of the hands of the Germans. Every man in our platoon was exhausted yet again, it was an effort of extremes to crawl through the grass and try to protect your life. In due course we managed to reach the second objective and it was a relief when we did, that was for sure. One difference I noticed about this trench compared to the first one though is that our guns had not done anyway near as much damage. I knew for certain there would be Germans still occupying the trench and it was our job to get them out. This was our trench now. About ten minutes later Sergeant B. Miller gave the hand signal to move forward and we all split off into groups of about four, to head into different parts of the trench. In my group it was Roger, Rob and then Paul. We entered the trench from the left and I led the way.
Yours,
Private Thomas Millward.
The Broken Poppy Page 15