The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.

THE HISTORY

OF THE

2/6th (RIFLE) BATTALION "THE KING'S"

(LIVERPOOL REGIMENT)

1914-1919

Photo by Houghton, Margate.

LIEUT.-COL. W. A. L. FLETCHER, D.S.O.

THE HISTORY
of the
2/6th (Rifle) Battalion "The King's"
(Liverpool Regiment)
1914-1919

BY
Capt. C. E. WURTZBURG, M.C.
Adjutant, Nov. 1916-Nov. 1918

With a Foreword by
Major-General Sir R. W. R. BARNES, k.c.b., d.s.o.
Late G.O.C. 57th (West Lancs.) Division

PRINTED FOR THE REGIMENTAL COMMITTEE

BY
GALE & POLDEN LIMITED
Wellington Works, Aldershot
1920

To the Memory

OF

LIEUT.-COL. W. A. L. FLETCHER, D.S.O.

THE OFFICERS

WARRANT OFFICERS

NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICERS

AND

RIFLEMEN

WHO LAID DOWN THEIR LIVES

FOR THEIR

COUNTRY

Not fearing death, nor shrinking for distress,
But always resolute in most extremes.

FOREWORD

As I had the honour of commanding the 57th (West Lancashire) Division during the greater part of the time that the Division was fighting in France and Flanders in the Great War, included in which Division was the 2/6th Battalion "The King's" (Liverpool Regiment), I am very glad that the Author has given me the opportunity of recording in print my appreciation of the gallant and soldierly conduct of this fine battalion whilst under my command.

Captain Wurtzburg's work in writing this history of the battalion in which he served is, I am sure, of great value: to the survivors of the battalion, as a record of their achievements; to the relatives of the fallen, as showing that their sacrifice was not in vain; and to the historians of the future, who will obtain inspiration as to the realities of war from the experiences of this fighting unit.

The 2/6th "The King's" (Liverpool Regiment) took part with distinction in all the fighting of the Division from February, 1917, up to the Armistice. The battalion showed its offensive spirit in the third battle of Ypres, the breaking of the Drocourt-Quéant switch of the Hindenburg Line, the battle of Cambrai, and the capture of Lille; and its steadiness in defence during the long periods of trench warfare, and especially in the terrible gas bombardment of Armentières.

The battalion was always to be depended upon, and its fine "tone" was, I think, largely owing to that good Commanding Officer and sportsman, the late Lieutenant-Colonel W. A. L. Fletcher, who imbued his battalion with his own personality, and than whom no man in the war more truly gave his life for his country.

In these present difficult times of peace we are all, I think, inclined to forget the great lesson of the war—that it is only by "comradeship" we can overcome these difficulties; and the records of the 2/6th "The King's" (Liverpool Regiment) should help to remind us that this battalion gained its name and achieved its object by the equal and united efforts of its Officers, Non-Commissioned Officers, and Riflemen.

Personally, I feel I cannot end these few lines without expressing my intense gratitude to all my old comrades of the battalion.

R. W. R. Barnes, Major-General.

Liverpool,
July, 1920.

PREFACE

Shortly after the Armistice Colonel Fletcher wrote to me asking if I would undertake to write a history of the battalion. All through the war I had cherished a vague idea of doing something of the kind, and with this view had devoted considerable care to the War Diary and to the preservation of other records. I was, therefore, only too pleased to accede to my old Commanding Officer's request, though I felt that I should experience—as, indeed, I have done—some considerable difficulty in dealing with periods during which I was away from the battalion. These cover the time from January, 1915, to March, 1916; the action of the battalion in the third battle of Ypres; and the major portion of the second battle of Cambrai, for which I have had to rely on information which has been readily supplied by those who were present.

The work of compilation has, I must admit, been arduous to a degree, and an active business life has necessitated the whole work being written in my evenings and at week-ends. To this fact, I think, the unevenness of the book may fairly be attributed, written as it had to be at odd times, bit by bit, and in the varying states of mind in which I found myself after my day's work at the office. It has, however, been a labour of love, and if the book does in any way fulfil the objects for which I mainly wrote it—first, to perpetuate the memory of our gallant comrades who laid down their lives for their country; and, secondly, to aid those who survived to recall to their recollection our days of service, and to hand down to their descendants some written record of their lives during those great years—I shall feel that my labours have been amply repaid.

I have received so much assistance in the preparation of the book that I am afraid it is impossible to make any adequate individual acknowledgments of my debt. My thanks, however, are particularly due to the following:—For continuous advice and valuable suggestions, to C. W. Wilson, J. L. Heyworth, T. Sutherland, and A. L. Reade (whose diary, placed freely at my disposal, has proved invaluable); for contributions, to R. Barker, N. L. and W. A. Corkill, W. M. Ewan, E. A. Garrod, H. M. Griffiths, J. K. Harris, J. L. Henderson, J. B. Herbert, F. C. Hildred, F. Hooper, V. J. Kneen, G. L. Lane, J. Longridge, R. E. Noon, J. Payne, W. Penrice, K. V. Stevenson, H. Taggart, C. W. Walter, and T. A. Williams; for compilation of addresses, to J. McCoy; for map work, to A. S. Brown and J. T. Hazell; for photographs and drawings (the reproduction of which, on grounds of economy, had drastically to be curtailed), to W. T. Barrow, J. Beavan, W. A. Belk, C. S. Freeman, E. Fryer, T. H. Louden, F. V. Smith, and A. E. Williams; and for unfailing courtesy and ready assistance, to the War Office and No. 1 Infantry Record Office, Preston.

To my father, E. A. Wurtzburg, I owe a great debt for assistance of every description, the value of which I cannot adequately express. He has, further, revised all the proofs.

I should also like to record the help rendered by my publishers, Messrs. Gale & Polden, Ltd.; throughout the long period that has elapsed since the work was first commenced their interest and assistance have never flagged.

In conclusion, I must add that financial responsibility for the production of the book was generously accepted by a small body of gentlemen who shall be nameless, but in the absence of whom it is certain that the work could never have been undertaken.

C. E. W.

3, Lawn Road,
Hampstead, N.W. 3.
August, 1920.

CONTENTS

Battalion Cap Badge, Title, and Distinguishing Patch

THE HISTORY
OF THE
2/6th (Rifle) Bn. "THE KING'S"
(Liverpool Regiment)

CHAPTER I
FORMATION OF THE BATTALION—THE DEPOT—BLACKPOOL—CANTERBURY—MARGATE—UPSTREET CAMP—CANTERBURY—GORE STREET CAMP

Owing to the rush in the early days of the war, when recruits were many and records few, the actual date of the formation of the 2/6th (Rifle) Battalion "The King's" (Liverpool Regiment) is obscure, but from general evidence we can assume the date to have been September 10th, 1914. Certain it is that recruiting for the Second Line opened on that date.

Before going further it may be worth setting forth the reasons which prompted the War Office to create ours and similar battalions.

The Territorial Force was planned for Home Defence, and presumably it was considered that there would be time and opportunity to train recruits to replace the casualties and normal wastage of war. The wholesale volunteering of battalions for Foreign Service altered the situation completely, and it became necessary to create Reserve Battalions. Their duty was twofold: first, to replace the battalion that went abroad and relieve it of its function as a defensive force; and, secondly, to supply it with the necessary drafts.

Consequently enlisting for the Reserve Battalion included both men for Home and Foreign Service, and it was not until the following spring that the success of the Territorial Battalions abroad prompted the authorities to go one step further, and make the Second Line Battalions, as they were then called, into Overseas Battalions. To make this possible, Home Service men were transferred to Home Defence units, known as Provisional Battalions, while Third Line Depots were created for training drafts for the battalions on active service.

A clear understanding as to the position is necessary, so that the reason why we remained in England till February, 1917, may be grasped. Owing to the call on us for drafts throughout 1915 and early 1916, our strength was much reduced. The Third Line Depots, however, owing to the falling off in recruiting, were never strong enough to repair the wastage of the First Line Battalion already overseas, much less bring us up to strength. The necessary troops had, therefore, to be raised from broken-up divisions in England, and it was from one of these in 1916 that we were to receive the necessary men to complete our strength. However, the terrible casualties of the Battle of the Somme diverted to France as reinforcements the men that we were to have had (some of them found their way to us in 1917 at St. Hilaire), and we found ourselves with a couple of hundred "Derby men" in their place, with a promise that we should go overseas as soon as these were trained.

However, to return to September, 1914, the early destinies of the Reserve Battalion were placed in the hands of Captain J. Howard Temple, who, with Captain H. K. Wilson and Captain Broad, had been sent back to the Depot from the original 6th Battalion to organize the new unit, and they could not have been placed in better hands. During the first two days about 200 men were enlisted, and the work that devolved on the head of Captain Temple may be better imagined than described. The staff at his disposal were Colour-Sergeants Taggart, Firth, Ramsay, Staff-Sergeant Miller, and Sergeants Blackburn, Cormack, Pender, Lee, and Leask. In addition some budding officers with O.T.C. experience helped to fill the gap, and the work of training and organization proceeded apace, though most of the staff for a considerable period had to sleep and eat at the Depot.

As the numbers increased the men were formed into eight companies, and from the ranks men with some experience were picked out and appointed Acting Lance-Corporals, amongst these being Heyworth, Batson, Higginbottom, H. Lewis, Hockenhull, Hinde, C. E. Peck, Brunner, Pryce, and Beeston.

Those early days are amusing to look back upon. We came daily to the drill-shed for training in every form of costume that can be imagined—some men in everyday clothes of a clerk, some in shooting coats and grey trousers, others in khaki bought at their own expense, and so on. Bowler hats were early discouraged, but except for that there were no restrictions as to dress.

Little by little khaki began to appear and our regulation black puttees, though the regimental "walking out" uniforms had for some time to be used as a temporary arrangement, which made us look a motley crowd.

"Bugles" were soon formed, and behind these we marched gaily to the Old Farm Field in Sefton Park for drill, and to Allerton or Arrowe Hall for field days. In those early irresponsible days life proceeded easily; the "King's Regulations" and the "Manual of Military Law" were volumes unknown except to a very few. Keenness and enthusiasm were the keynotes of our life. Someone murmured the word "inoculation," and forthwith we trooped in gay crowds to the Medical Officer to undergo that much-discussed but very innocent operation. The 1/6th Battalion wanted men to complete their numbers: the draft could have been made up ten times over. How proudly we marched through the streets of Liverpool! How we envied the New Army Battalions—the "blue-eyed boys" of the War Office—who called themselves "Regulars," and on whom everything seemed to be lavished. Beyond frequent inspections, we got no serious assistance for two and a half years, and equipment was doled out but sparingly up till the last moment. The reason of this apparent neglect was probably sound and in accordance with policy, but it was none the less heart-breaking at times.

With the beginning of November things began to move apace. Colonel G. A. Wilson, V.D., was appointed Commanding Officer, and to this fact we can attribute the smartness and esprit de corps that distinguished the battalion up till the end of its history. The sound principles on which Colonel Wilson proceeded to train his battalion produced the best and most lasting results, and, without wishing in any way to overstep the mark, one may say that few, if any, battalions were brought from the early chaotic state to a well-organized and self-contained machine in such a short time as our own. It was not only, however, in his scheme of training that Colonel Wilson was so successful, but also in his choice of officers. He gathered round him officers of many kinds: not only young and enthusiastic members of School and University O.T.Cs., but older men also—some without military experience, it is true, but with that broader outlook and ability that more mature years bring with them; others, again, who had much military experience to their credit, and—precious above all—experience of war itself. Of the latter, Captain W. A. L. Fletcher, D.S.O., Captain C. W. Wilson, Captain G. L. Fletcher, and Captain G. P. Rogers had all served with distinction in the Boer War, and, be a war great or be it small, the knowledge that comes from actual shells and bullets is worth the having.

Captain W. A. L. Fletcher, who came as Adjutant, requires further mention. One of the greatest oarsmen Oxford ever produced, a great traveller and big game shot, he represented the very finest type of Englishman, and his presence with the battalion first as Adjutant and later as Commanding Officer, was an asset impossible to estimate. Strong and self-reliant, capable and far-seeing, he had a natural genius for military science, while for personal gallantry the deed that won him the D.S.O. when a subaltern in South Africa was more than sufficient testimony. From the day he joined till the day of his death, in 1919, his thoughts were centred on the success and the welfare of the battalion with the most whole-hearted devotion.

The organization of the battalion into eight companies, which had been roughly sketched out, was now completed, the Commanders being respectively—Captains Wilson, G. L. Fletcher, W. R. Clarke, Rogers, Lawrence, A. T. Miller, Herschell, and Wurtzburg. Colour-Sergeant-Instructor Kelly was appointed regimental sergeant-major provisionally, and Regimental Sergeant-Major Barnett, of the 1/6th "The King's" (Liverpool Regiment), was gazetted Lieutenant and Quartermaster.

Training proceeded on the normal lines of arms drill (with twenty old D.P. rifles circulated in turn), outposts, guards, musketry (including miniature range practice), route marching, and physical training. The foundations were also laid of the scout and signal sections.

On November 4th a draft of 240 men left for Redhill to join the 1/6th Battalion, and a very fine body of men they were. In addition, four officers were dispatched—2nd-Lieutenants G. Hughes, T. E. Rome, E. H. Tyson, and N. B. Ronald. We also received a draft of men in exchange, composed of those too young or unfit for active service, with a sprinkling of those unwilling to undertake foreign service obligations.

On November 10th the battalion proceeded to Blackpool with the remaining reserve units of the Liverpool Regiment, under the command of Colonel Wilson as Acting Brigadier. Captain Broad remained as O.C. Depot. The route to Exchange Station was thronged with people to wish us good-bye and God-speed. The battalion was now entering its first real stage on the road to active service. We arrived at Blackpool to find the sun shining brightly, and all were as cheerful as could be. The men were billeted with subsistence, at a heavy cost, in streets at North Shore, the officers being quartered at Stretton Private Hotel on the front.

Military life now assumed a more stern aspect. Early morning parades on the cold and breezy front, hours of drill on the sands or on the bleak and wind-swept slopes of Norbreck Hill, were somewhat more severe than our easy training at Liverpool. However, we meant to get efficient, and though we worked all day and every day, including Saturday afternoons, with lectures in the evening, life at Blackpool was happy enough, and the local attractions all the more alluring by reason of our hard work and fine condition.

We found ourselves forming, with the Reserve Battalions of the 5th, 7th, and 8th Liverpools, the Reserve Liverpool Infantry Brigade, under the command of Colonel S. H. Harrison, an old "King's" officer—a most courteous and kindly Irishman, and a very keen and enthusiastic soldier. Our Divisional Commander, Brigadier-General F. A. Adam, C.B., lately commanding the British brigade at Malta, had been appointed to command a division earmarked for immediate service in France, but had most unluckily been injured in an accident while riding. A most capable and efficient soldier he was, and his misfortune was the good fortune of our division.

On November 28th we were inspected by our Brigadier at Singleton Hall, the owner of which kindly lent his grounds for the purpose, and we were complimented on our bearing and steadiness. This was our first introduction to the intricacies of the "Manual of Ceremonial."

Christmas leave was our great anxiety at this time, and, after having been at first disappointed, we were at length allowed to go in batches to our homes. From Christmas till the move down south we were actively employed—guards on the pierheads, piquets on the North and South Shores, drill, and, later, musketry with real rifles at Fleetwood. The battalion was now organized into four companies in accordance with "Infantry Training, 1914," which were respectively commanded by Major H. K. Wilson ("A" Company), Captain C. W. Wilson ("D" Company), Captain G. L. Fletcher ("C" Company), and Captain Lawrence ("B" Company). Colour-sergeants were divided into company sergeant-majors and company quartermaster-sergeants to meet the new organization; and R. Smith was appointed regimental sergeant-major, Kelly being made company sergeant-major of "B" Company.

Many more officers meanwhile had joined—so many, in fact, that we were for a time over strength. Captain Wurtzburg was attached as Acting Staff Officer at Brigade, and was subsequently gazetted as a Brigade Major.

On January 12th a draft of 210 men were dispatched to Canterbury, many N.C.Os. gladly giving up their temporary stripes to join the draft. That was ever the spirit. Two days later General Sir R. Pole Carew, Inspector-General, Territorial Force, inspected us on the South Shore field, and expressed himself much pleased with our steadiness on parade.

Transport, consisting of requisitioned civilian vehicles, had recently arrived, and Lieutenant L. G. May was appointed as Transport Officer. His men were not long in appearing clad in riding breeches and spurs, and lent a slightly military aspect to their antique civilian carts.

Route marching formed a considerable part of the training programme, and on January 20th the battalion marched to Garstang and back, a distance of thirty-three and three-quarter miles. It was congratulated by General Adam on being "so hard and fit that it can perform a long march in such good order." On February 1st a more ambitious scheme of marching to Liverpool and back was entered upon. Rifles had arrived that morning, and were issued on parade, string being provided in lieu of slings. The first day's march was to Preston, where we billeted for the night. The next day it rained steadily, and we were glad enough to reach Ormskirk, where the popular reception was such that the orderly-room was deluged with requests from people asking if they could not entertain at any rate one man. The spirit of Ormskirk was, indeed, conspicuous all along the route, and the arrival on the Exchange flags the next day produced a rousing reception. After breaking away for the rest of the day, the battalion set off for the return march the following day, and completed its 100-mile march in splendid form, only a few men having become casualties, and these because of ill-fitting boots. "Rip," the battalion dog, led by the Commanding Officer's groom, attracted no little attention during the march.

Forms of recreation at Blackpool were manifold, the town going out of its way to entertain the troops. The Salford Harriers put up a military run of seven miles, and this was won by Rifleman J. N. C. Davies in 45 minutes 18 seconds.

On February 8th the battalion moved down to Canterbury to replace the 1/6th Battalion, and at Blackpool we left behind many friends and a high reputation, of which the battalion may well be proud. Captain Lawrence left us at this point, anno domini having proved too much even for his dauntless spirit.

At Canterbury we found the band and 170 details of the 1/6th, the former being a great asset under the able direction of Sergeant Hodgson. Billets were different from those at Blackpool. We now had at the most two or three men to a billet, and we also had army rations. However, the "occupiers" were most kindly and made us very welcome, though they were apt to resent the rigorous daily inspection—apparently a novelty to them. Our transport was further augmented by some quaint vehicles and still quainter mules discarded by our predecessors, also one or two pack ponies. The mules were productive of considerable amusement. On March 15th, after this brief stay in Canterbury—due to the congestion of troops—we marched down to Margate, and were given billets in Cliftonville. We were the only battalion of the Division in Margate, the rest of our Brigade being at Canterbury. That we were popular at Margate, and that Margate was popular with us, need hardly be added. The behaviour of the battalion fully justified the continued and generous attention which we received from the authorities and people of the town.

We had now left the reserve training area of the north, and were in the zone of possible invasion. The First Line Division had gone overseas piecemeal, and their Divisional and Brigade Staffs now took charge of us. Major-General J. B. Forster, C.B., commanded our Division, which was a unit of the Central Force, commanded by General Sir Ian Hamilton; while our Brigade was commanded by Brigadier-General A. R. Gilbert, D.S.O., with Major Fulton, of the Worcesters, as Brigade Major, and Captain Beazley, of the 1/6th, as Staff Captain.

Soon after our arrival in Margate, Major Temple, to our great regret, left us, being seconded to the Navy for special service, with the rank of Commander. He had been the principal pioneer of our battalion, and had done all that industry and money could do to further our interests. Though detached from us, we are glad to think he followed our movements and furthered our schemes by every means in his power.

We now entered on a series of inspections by many Generals, including Lieutenant-General Hon. Sir Frederick Stopford, Commanding the Second Army, Central Force, in Dane Park, when he was good enough to say that we were one of the best units he had seen.

Equipment now began to arrive, and Japanese rifles, which we could really fire, and we began to feel that we were becoming a fighting, and not merely an ornamental, battalion. We were responsible for the Margate defences, and alarms, practice or otherwise, occurred at most inconvenient moments with most unpleasant frequency. Many are the stories connected with these alarms, but lack of space prevents their narration. Easter Monday morning, in particular, saw us marching hurriedly to Broadstairs at 5.30 a.m., where the remainder of the Brigade met us from Canterbury. This was believed to have been a genuine alarm, but it ended in nothing. Zeppelins were the only form of enemy we saw, and they dropped no bombs on Margate while we were there.

Musketry parties were now busy at Sandwich, where they were billeted in the Golf Club-house; and a Vickers' machine-gun was received, which enabled Lieutenant Bowring to teach his most efficient section with something more satisfying than a wooden dummy.

In the middle of April those who had not signed the form in which the obligation to serve overseas was accepted were separated, and formed, with others, the 43rd Provisional Battalion for Home Defence. This left us only 700 strong, but the defence of Margate and the entrenching in connection with it passed from our hands, and left us more time for training. It may be worth recalling that some of the men who elected to join a Home Service Battalion actually proceeded overseas, by reason of the Military Service Act, before we did.

On May 17th the Third Line Depots were formed, and a nucleus of officers and N.C.Os. were dispatched to Weeton Camp, near Blackpool, to organize our new unit. Amongst the former were Captain G. L. Fletcher to command and Captain A. T. Miller to act as Adjutant. Captain Clarke also left us to take command of the Depot at Liverpool. Captain Moon soon after was appointed to command "B" Company, vacated by Captain Miller, which had been temporarily commanded by Lieutenant R. L. Dobell, who was attached to us for a short time. "C" Company was given to Captain Parker on Captain G. L. Fletcher's departure.

About this time the Central Force was amalgamated with the Eastern Command, and we came under the orders of that Command for operations. General C. L. Woollcombe, C.B., lost little time in coming to inspect us, and confirmed the good reports already made by inspecting officers.

Two serious changes now occurred in our Battalion Headquarters Staff. Lieutenant Barnett, while acting as umpire at a big field day, was knocked down and sustained a fracture of the skull. He was away for some time, returning eventually as Captain and Adjutant; his place as Quartermaster, after it had been held as a temporary measure by Lieutenant Kelk, being taken by Sutherland, till then orderly-room sergeant, who more than filled the post he took over. In addition, Colonel Wilson on June 20th resigned command owing to pressure of business which demanded his personal attention. As has already been said, he had laid the best foundations that a battalion could wish for. A keen "rifleman" himself, he had never been content with anything but the best. If he worked us hard, if he was stern and exacting, he always himself set the example, and the spirit of leadership with which he inspired Officers and N.C.Os. remained with the battalion till its last days.

Training at Margate was carried out with zeal and energy of no mean order. As a rule the battalion formed up in companies in line opposite Lancaster House, to the strains of the band. After that the programme varied between route marches round Thanet, Minster and Sarre generally figuring somewhere on the route; field days on Thanet Golf Course; battalion drill—always a prominent and important feature in our training; bayonet fighting, under Sergeant Bowling; bombing with tiny bags filled with sand; or general training in a field at the North Foreland end of Margate. A cold ration was usually taken, and the battalion returned about 3 p.m., and, after marching past the Commanding Officer by companies, dismissed for the day, and found its way severally to "Bobbie's" or other popular cafés for tea. Night operations occurred weekly, and resulted in many amusing contretemps.

Church parades were carried out with full military ceremonial, and the sight of the battalion marching back on a gorgeous Sunday morning, with the band playing at its head, was a sight to be remembered, and evoked the unstinted admiration of the people and visitors of Margate. The parade ended with "Officers, take post," after which the companies moved off under their senior warrant officer or N.C.O.

Upstreet Camp, some miles along the Canterbury Road, was in the meantime being prepared, and our advanced party was busy putting up tents and other necessities.

If we had been worked hard at Margate, we had certainly had a good time. Sea bathing, concerts, Sunday afternoons on the promenade with our band playing in the Oval, and other pleasurable forms of recreation abounded. Mention must also be made of two most successful singing competitions organized under the auspices of the Mayor and Corporation, for which the proprietors of the Winter Gardens very generously provided their magnificent hall free of charge. Some 3,000 people were present, and the success of these concerts, not only for the prizewinners, but for all present, was undoubted. The reports in the local press are eloquent on the subject, as they were, in fact, on the "unfailing kindness, courtesy, and general behaviour" of the 2/6th (Rifle) Battalion (as we were now styled) of "The King's" (Liverpool Regiment).

On July 13th we marched to Upstreet Camp, set close to the Thanet Marshes, a pleasant spot in summer, but a quagmire in the autumn, as we found out later to our cost.

While in camp at Upstreet, except for occasional field operations towards Reculvers and one memorable Brigade field day at Whitstable, the battalion was engaged practically continuously digging trenches, wiring, and revetting in the vicinity of Upstreet and St. Nicholas. The effect of the three months' hard manual labour on the physique of the battalion was very marked, the men growing and broadening out almost beyond recognition. There was considerable movement of men at this period. On August 3rd Captain Wilson conducted 96 men overseas, and on August 6th 112 men were received from the Third Line. Officers were also proceeding at intervals overseas, and others recruiting from hospital were also attached to us for varying periods of time. In November our establishment was reduced to twenty-three officers, and all the remainder were dispatched to the Third Line.

On August 8th Major W. A. L. Fletcher, D.S.O., was gazetted Lieutenant-Colonel, and took over the command of the battalion. Captain Gilling had meanwhile assumed command of "A" Company.

By October 10th we were more than pleased to vacate our camp, where we were wellnigh drowned and frozen, and moved to billets at Canterbury once more. Our move was made more dignified by the presence of regulation transport, which had been received at Upstreet Camp, in place of our miscellaneous collection of almost prehistoric civilian vehicles.

Headquarters at Canterbury were at Dagmar House in Dane John, the men being billeted in all the neighbouring streets, Wincheap, York, Oxford, Guildford, and Martyrsfield Roads being the chief. A number of mules were received, of varying dispositions, the most notorious rejoicing in the name of "Lusitania."

The end of 1915 found us plodding steadily on with the now somewhat monotonous round of general training, the only excitement being an occasional Zeppelin scare or a more serious "stand to." The latter, during the earlier days of 1916, kept us for nearly a week in a state of readiness to move at half an hour's notice. Transport vehicles were kept fully loaded, and meals were served from field kitchens, while trains stood waiting with steam up in the station.

During the first three months of 1916 fourteen drafts of "Derby" recruits were received, numbering in all 319 men. Some of these men we thought were rather old at first, but they turned out splendidly. These drafts were distributed into squads under specially selected instructors, whence they were drafted as they became qualified into the companies to which they had been posted. The care and attention lavished on these men were productive of excellent results, as the records of many of them can testify. A Brigade N.C.Os.' class was also held during this period at Old Park, and was conducted by Captain Barnett.

Training, owing to the weather, was apt to be confined to the "vicinity of billets" or the Presbyterian Hall. Dane John was generally tenanted by signallers or other specialists. We also had occasional field days at Bridge, and withheld stoutly the attacking Germans who had invariably landed at St. Margaret's Bay.

In February our first Lewis guns were received, and the number went on increasing from that time till about the spring of 1918, when we reached a total of twenty-eight. Rumours of the separation of machine gunners into a new machine gun corps had been for some time afloat, and on May 2nd twenty-two men of the battalion were discharged and re-enlisted in the Machine Gun Corps. The quick promotion which practically all these obtained is a proof of the good tone of the battalion and of the magnificent instruction which the men had received under Lieutenant Bowring. A draft of 150 men had been sent just prior to this to the Third Line en route for overseas, but the majority reappeared shortly after. A party, under Captain Gilling, was detached at Birchington for some time, working on the defences, and a small observation post for hostile aircraft was stationed at Wootton, and a party was also kept at the R.F.C. ground, Bekesbourne.

On April 19th the battalion was inspected at Sturry by General Right Hon. Sir Arthur Paget, who expressed himself favourably impressed; and on May 8th the Commanding Officer went to France for a tour in the line, bringing back many valuable hints. He spent his time in front of Gommecourt, a spot that was to be very familiar to us later on.

Musketry was now resumed at Sandwich in intensely hot weather, the march—some sixteen miles—proving too much for some of the men who had not experienced that training in march discipline with which the older members of the battalion were acquainted. The balance of the battalion not so employed were inspected, with the rest of the 57th Division (we had ceased to be the 2/1st West Lancashire Division and 2/1st Liverpool Infantry Brigade, the latter now being designated the 171st Infantry Brigade), at Westbere by Sir John French, who had recently been appointed Commander-in-Chief Home Forces. He endeavoured to explain our continued presence in England, which was in no way connected with inefficiency, but was due to the lack at the moment of any adequate force of trained troops for Home Defence.

The continued rumours of early foreign service, however, still buoyed us up, in spite of their failure to materialize, and it speaks wonders for the battalion that they endured two and a half years of training in England, with every kind of alteration in policy, without losing to any extent their cheerfulness and their keenness.

Canterbury, with its church parades in the Cathedral, with its general training at the Parsonage Farm, its company training and battalion operations, its company concerts and its comfortable billets, was now about to join Blackpool and Margate among the memories of the past.

Advanced parties were now at Gore Street, where a joint camp was being constructed for the 2/5th K.L.R. and ourselves. Excellently situated on a branch from the main road between Monkton and Minster, it was only some four miles from our old camp at Upstreet. Standing, however, on higher ground, it looked over the Thanet Marshes, and so escaped the disadvantages of damp and mist which belong to such low-lying ground. The tents were also particularly good. The only disadvantage was a lack of space, the area, limited as it was, being further cramped by the presence of the Wessex Field Ambulance, a pleasant party though they were.

Digging operations now recommenced, in addition to the usual round of general and specialist training. A visit by Sir Francis Howard with an Ordnance inspector who murmured of "foreign service" filled us with the highest hopes. Our equipment was condemned, and likewise our rifles, which had replaced the Japanese weapons some months previously. Apparently we were to have everything we wanted, proceed to Aldershot for final training, and then to France. Before we left Gore Street some very successful sports were organized in conjunction with the 2/5th K.L.R. and many amusing sideshows were added. A practice night alarm for hostile aircraft caused some merriment when Captain Moon was seen hurrying to report attired in a service cap, nightshirt, British warm, and a pair of gum-boots. One memorable field day must be recorded, which was known for long after as the Battle of Pluck's Gutter, the scene of operations.

The command of "C" Company passed to Captain Eccles about this time. He had relieved Lieutenant May as Transport Officer when the latter joined the Home Service unit, but had handed over this duty shortly after to Lieutenant Hutchinson.

On July 15th, after vast preparations—we had made no considerable move for eighteen months—we entrained at Canterbury, after a long and tiring march, for Aldershot, getting a magnificent send off from our Canterbury friends, not to mention ample supplies of fruit from the manager of the Queen's Hotel, Margate.

With what high hopes we set off on our journey! Now at last we felt that the final stage in our education had been reached. Aldershot and Salisbury Plain were the universities of the military student, whence he was launched into the vortex of war complete with all the necessary knowledge. That we had now at last been admitted to this select academy must mean that our days in England were strictly numbered. Alas for our hopes!

Photo by Houghton, Margate.

COL. G. A. WILSON, V.D.

CHAPTER II
PREPARATION FOR OVERSEAS—BOURLEY CAMP—INKERMAN BARRACKS, WOKING

On arrival at Aldershot we detrained at the military siding and marched off over the switchback road across the edge of Laffan's Plain to Bourley Bottom, some two miles from the town in the direction of Fleet. The camp, which was on the site of one of the usual summer camping grounds, was from the picturesque point of view delightfully situated. It lay in the centre of a ring of low, wooded hills which sheltered it from all wind, and the white tents stood out in pleasing contrast to the surrounding browns and greens of the background. As a place of habitation, however, it could not compare with Gore Street; the canvas was poor, and the general arrangements by no means so modern. Moreover, by its very situation the camp was damp, and in continued bad weather would probably have proved unhealthy. However, we had come there with a purpose—viz., to complete as quickly as possible our military knowledge—and we were in no mood to cavil at details.

From the moment of our arrival we realized that every moment would be precious. A musketry course had to be fired, and the outline of a tactical training programme had already been issued. Musketry commenced on July 17th, two days after arrival, and we fired on alternate days on Cæsar's Camp ranges, hardly a mile away, and on Ash ranges, a good six miles away. As firing was always to commence at 7 a.m. when not prevented by an early morning mist, as frequently happened, we used to rise very early for Ash ranges, and the "butt party" still earlier. Away we would tramp over the rough road to Aldershot, through the silent streets, past the many barracks when "Reveillé" was just sounding, and so out of the town again towards the Fox Hills and our destination at Ash ranges.

Throughout the musketry course the weather was brilliant, but the heat tremendous. Home we would come after a cold ration for lunch, and sing ourselves hoarse as we marched through Aldershot. Many were the comments passed on our singing powers, and truly the men sang well, and marched even better. Our musketry also proved good, and we came out top of our Brigade and second in the Division.

On August 6th Lieutenant-Colonel H. D. Spencely, T.D., Honorary Colonel of the battalion, came and paid us a visit, to our great delight, and we think that he was more than satisfied with what he saw.

We were now embarked on a series of the field operations of which brigade training mainly consists. Each day saw us marching off towards the Long Valley, for ever famous in military annals, there to practise attack formations, advance and rear guards, outposts, fire control, and so forth. Some days we joined battle with the other battalions of the Brigade, one against three or two against two. Norris and Eelmoor Bridges frequently figured somewhere in the scheme of operations, or, again, Cocked Hat Wood or Outridden Copse. Many of the battles were of the most determined description, and casualties were caused, if not by enemy action, at any rate by order of the supervising staff, which consisted frequently of several distinguished soldiers, including General Sir Archibald Hunter, G.O.C.-in-C. Aldershot Command, and Sir Francis Howard, Inspector-General of Troops for overseas. The work was hard and the conditions variable. Sometimes the dust stirred up seemed almost too choking to be endured; at other times one waded through mud and slush well over the boots, to the great detriment of black puttees. Sandy Lane, the euphemistic name for the track to our camp, was notorious for its depth of mud, which the constant passing of vehicles churned up into a paste of most vile consistency.

Many were the amusing incidents of these training days, but one cannot detail them here. Still, they helped us to carry through the long days of strenuous physical exercise.

A pleasant respite, however, was ahead. On August 19th the whole battalion, less a small party left to guard the camp, proceeded to Liverpool for its "last leave," reassembling on August 24th on St. George's Plateau for the return. Great was the enthusiasm that welcomed the battalion and again sent it on its way.

On August 18th fifteen men, too young for foreign service, had been dispatched to the 5th Territorial Force Reserve Battalion K.L.R. at Oswestry, and on August 22nd we said good-bye to nine more machine gunners who were transferred to Grantham. Moreover, a light trench mortar battery was in course of formation in each brigade, and to this we contributed Lieutenant H. E. Barrow to command, 2nd-Lieutenant D. G. Leonard, and twenty-three men. The battery proceeded on September 3rd to Pirbright, returning again after some range practice on September 10th, when they occupied a corner of our camp. Later in September they finally left us for Pirbright, and we saw them no more till we met in the trenches in France.

Another important part of our training took place in the trenches constructed in the vicinity of the Foresters Public-House (or "P.H.," as the maps described it, and as, in fact, it was generally called), which was situated about two miles north of our camp on the far side of the race-course. Here an elaborate set of trenches had been dug, and these the battalions occupied in turn for varying periods not exceeding thirty-six hours, relieving each other in the approved fashion, and carrying on in the trenches as far as possible as they would do in France. An enemy was generally provided in the enemy front line opposite, and silent raids occurred at uncertain intervals. Major Geddes, the Brigade Major, and 2nd-Lieutenant Bevir, the Brigade Bombing Officer, even worked a gas attack on us; but as the sentry thought it was only smoke from an adjacent rubbish destructor the efforts of our enthusiastic staff fell somewhat flat. That these practices were valuable no one can doubt; added to which we learnt something of night-working parties, ration carrying, patrolling, laying of telephones, S.O.S. alarms, and so on; but it must be admitted that nights in the Foresters P.H. Trenches were vastly more uncomfortable than those in any trench sector we held in France in similar weather. Apart from mere practice in trench routine, we carried out some elaborate attacks across these trenches in the "wave" method then in vogue, such an operation on September 19th being performed under the eye of Sir John French, who made some flattering comments on the Division.

Three days before this we had a practice alarm, followed by a concentration of the whole Division in the Long Valley, where our Divisional Commander, Major-General Forster, carried out his final inspection before giving up command. On September 23rd the Division had the honour of being inspected by His Majesty the King. It was a brilliant day, and the scene was one that will long live in the memory of those who took part in it. The Division was drawn up in review order on the Review Ground facing the Pavilion, and after a Royal Salute the King rode round the ranks. It was a pretty severe test of discipline and steadiness, but, as a regular officer was heard to remark in the Aldershot Club that evening, "the men were magnificent, and the march past first rate. You would have thought it was a regular division." The battalion gained great credit for their share in the march past, though the pace set by the band was almost too quick even for riflemen. After this Commanding Officers were introduced to His Majesty, and we set off for home, feeling more than satisfied with our turn out, our discipline, and our drill.

We had all this while been confident of our early departure for overseas. We had had our last leave and been inspected by the King, we had lent our rifles to a draft of men from the Home Counties Division to enable them to complete their musketry before joining us, and we had all been recently inoculated and vaccinated. How near we were then to going abroad only those in the secret know, but gradually the suspicion spread that our time had not yet come, and it proved only too true. Our draft, or what we called "our draft," proceeded overseas direct, and we learned to our dismay that we were shortly to proceed to Woking for winter quarters. It was a terrible disappointment. Everyone had felt that at last the promised day was come, and here were our hopes dashed to the ground once more. The battalion behaved splendidly, however, and only those who knew the men intimately realized how severe was the blow. For two long years had we been training, and now, when our hopes were all but realized, we found ourselves condemned once more to the old grind and the old routine for an indefinite period. Men were almost ashamed to go on leave and face the heartless gibes of those who did not know the facts; but they settled down again to the old tasks with grim determination, feeling that one day they would really be allowed to go, and that the more efficient they made themselves, and the quicker they trained the promised drafts of raw men, the sooner would their ambition be realized.

Our stay at Aldershot, although it had not proved the final prelude to our move overseas, had not been without its value. During the long period of training in the different stations where we had been quartered work had to a certain extent suffered either from lack of facilities or from the special attention that had to be paid to drafts, and also from the changes necessitated by the latters' departure. Consequently an undue proportion of time had perforce been devoted to certain special aspects of training, such as physical drill, rifle exercises, bombing, and so forth; little scope being provided, except occasionally, for the more practical side of training of which field operations mainly consist. During the period at Aldershot we had for the first time worked daily not only as a self-contained unit with all the specialists cooperating according to their particular functions, but also as part of an active field force, represented by not only the whole Brigade, but by the various arms of the service, which nominally work in unison during active operations. The experience gained was therefore very valuable, and the instruction in trench routine gave every man some inkling, at any rate, of what the real life in the line was like.

On September 27th the battalion set off on a fine, sunny day to march to Woking, a halt being made about 12.30 p.m. in a pleasant wood for dinner, which had been cooking in field kitchens as we marched along. We arrived at our destination in comfortable time for tea. Inkerman Barracks in normal times must be a very pleasant spot. They stand well on high ground above Woking and close to the hamlet of St. John's, and are well laid out. Unfortunately, owing to a lack of space we shared these barracks with the 2/5th K.L.R., and in addition a squadron of Bedfordshire Yeomanry and a company of A.S.C. were also accommodated in the outbuildings. We had half the barracks, together with the guard-room and the orderly-room at the entrance to the barrack square, while the officers had the officers' quarters. The 2/5th K.L.R. had the other half of the barracks and most of the married quarters for their officers. We had also one or two of these small cottages. The mess we shared jointly.

For training there was a large field next the barracks, and some rough ground behind, where final assault courses were constructed. There were several pieces of common land in the near vicinity, and some four miles away was the splendid piece of country known as Chobham Common. On the whole, therefore, we were well off; while the barrack square was admirably suited for close order drill, there being just room to move a whole battalion en masse.

The barracks were very dirty when we took them over, but before long they became spotless under the keen eye of the Commanding Officer at his weekly inspection. The men were accommodated in large dormitories, the majority on beds; and though the rooms were apt to be somewhat cold and draughty, there was no real cause of complaint. There was a Y.M.C.A. hut in the barrack square, and another one nearer Woking.

The morning after our arrival the Commanding Officer read out the message from His Majesty the King, in which he expressed himself most satisfied with the appearance of the Division at the review, and his confidence that when the time came the men would fight as Lancashire men always fought. He added, however, that he would reserve his final message until definite orders were received to proceed overseas. On October 3rd General Broadwood inspected the battalion in the barrack square, and all officers were introduced to him. We now commenced a further General Musketry Course at Pirbright Ranges, the weather being on the whole good, though intensely cold.

The promised drafts now began to arrive, and between October 10th and 23rd 229 men arrived, bringing the strength of the battalion up to 1,116 men. On their first arrival the new-comers created no very favourable impression, but by the time that we proceeded overseas they had grown and broadened out almost beyond recognition. After considerable discussion all the drafts of the Division were sent to Training Reserve Battalions at Aldershot for six weeks—an arrangement which certainly had some points in its favour, but in the light of experience probably more against it.

On October 6th the Signal Section competed in an efficiency competition, open to all battalions in the Aldershot Command, and finished a good winner over a large number of competitors. This was the prelude to further victories in similar competitions won by the battalion, to which we shall refer later.

On October 14th an elaborate mine explosion took place at Frith Hill under the most realistic conditions, including an occupation of the crater by a large force from the adjoining model trench system. The proceedings were admirably stage-managed, and were witnessed by a most imposing display of General and other Officers from all parts of the country. The detonation was expected to be such that even as far as Woking all windows had to be left open for fear of damage from concussion. However, so heavy was the charge, and apparently so light the soil, that, so far from anything very spectacular occurring, a small quantity of earth was flung almost silently into the air, and the greater portion of it fell back into the place from which it had been dislodged. In spite of this misfortune, the occupation party dashed forward, and, regardless of the heavy fire from the enemy trenches, consolidated the position and constructed wire entanglements with great vigour and determination.

As another form of instruction suitable for men about to proceed overseas, we commenced, under R.E. supervision, deep dug-outs on Dawney's Hill. These were worked in the first instance by the 2/5th K.L.R. and ourselves in continuous forty-eight hour shifts. Other men were meantime engaged in such exercises as construction and capture of a strong post, wiring and revetting, throwing live bombs (each man throwing one by day and one by night), and instruction in gas-helmet drill, including the standard tests; and in addition there was the usual rapid loading, bayonet fighting, and drill.

On November 3rd Captain Barnett was examined by a Medical Board and found to be permanently disabled by the injury to his head which had been caused by the accident previously mentioned. He proceeded, accordingly, the next day on leave, pending the Gazette notifying the relinquishment of his commission; and Captain Wurtzburg took over his duties, being subsequently gazetted Adjutant.

To any battalion, however well trained, Captain Barnett, by reason of his vast experience of every side of military training, would have been invaluable. It is therefore quite impossible to over-estimate the benefit that a young battalion like ours derived from his knowledge and efficiency. The Commanding Officer had just previously left us for a few weeks to undergo a slight surgical operation, and the Command had devolved on Major C. W. Wilson, in the absence of Major H. K. Wilson, who was attending the Senior Officers' Course at Aldershot.

On November 15th a draft of four officers—Lieutenant Ormrod, 2nd-Lieutenants McCormick, E. E. Paul, and Moseley—from the 6th Battalion Lancashire Fusiliers arrived, and their arrival was most timely. We were being absolutely swamped with courses of every possible description; in addition, we had to maintain and relieve regularly an officer with the deep dug-out party; there were numerous courts of inquiry and courts-martial on foot, and the result, of course, was that the shortage of officers had become acute. Moreover, to stimulate efficiency, the Divisional Commander had devised four competitions—route marching by a battalion; bayonet fighting and physical training, each by a company; and wiring by a platoon. Preliminary Brigade competitions were held, and we were selected to compete in the Division for the first three events.

On November 21st the Division organized a concentration march and billeting scheme for our Brigade, involving a march of some eight miles to Chertsey. Coming as this did only two days before the final of the Divisional Route Marching Competition it was rather a severe handicap. However, on November 24th the whole battalion (except about half a dozen men required to guard our quarters), accompanied by a full regimental transport, set off on a fifteen mile march, which was to be done in five hours. Marks were given for accurate timing in passing the starting and finishing posts, for appearance of the men at the end of the march, for march discipline, and for correct contents of vehicles and packs. Hidden judges watched us at different parts of the march; others checked our halts, ten minutes every hour; and the contents of one platoon's packs were duly examined. The battalion marched magnificently, and although a cooker horse dropped a shoe and had to be shod by the cold shoer and regain the column without trotting, and although during the latter part of the march the road was inches deep in sand along a steep gradient, the last vehicle was clear of the finishing point with five seconds to spare. Our casualties were only two or three men, and but for the concentration march would never have occurred. After some discussion over the case of another battalion, who, contrary to the rules of the competition, had marched all the way headed by a band who did not wear packs, we were declared the winners, which we should have been in any case had we not forfeited a large number of points. We lost these because one man had no boot-laces in his pack; he remembered afterwards that they were in his pocket after all; and another man was also apparently deficient of some small article of kit. However, the battalion had every reason to be proud of itself, and the result certainly served to remind the Divisional Headquarters that other battalions existed besides the two Brigades in their close vicinity at Blackdown. "B" Company trained for the bayonet fighting, and, under Captain Moon, put up a display on November 29th, before the Chief Instructor of the London District School, which astonished him, and in due course they were declared the winners. "D" Company, under Captain Parker, also produced a splendid exhibition of physical training, and were proclaimed joint winners with the company of another battalion. In these last two competitions Company Sergeant-Major-Instructor McLelland, A.G.S., deserved the very greatest credit; he had been indefatigable in his exertions, and his methods proved most efficient.

For the continued successes of the battalion we were awarded a richly deserved twenty-four hours off parade.

All this time the specialists were receiving what may be described as intensive training. Apart from the ordinary work under their own instructors, they attended lectures and demonstrations of various descriptions with the object of increasing their efficiency and familiarizing them with the conditions under which they would have to work. The snipers in particular received great attention, and were not infrequently proceeding to Aldershot in connection with training. A splendid model miniature range was also constructed by them in one of the huts in the barrack square.

On December 11th Captain Moon left us to join the Portuguese Expeditionary Force as an interpreter; and on Christmas Eve Major C. W. Wilson proceeded overseas for a tour of instruction in the Ypres Salient. On Boxing Day the battalion proceeded on a final three days' last leave, receiving an even warmer welcome and send-off than before from the good people of Liverpool, who realized that the departure of the battalion for the front was imminent at last.

From Christmas till our actual departure was a period of intense activity. Travelling Medical Boards came and examined our "Category men," who were dispatched to various units according to their medical fitness; others were earmarked, by reason of special knowledge, for munition works, and so forth. Nominal rolls had to be completed and checked, casualty forms filled up for every man, the N.C.O. establishment completed, and a hundred other items of detail to be foreseen and provided for.

On February 4th we had a further welcome addition of officers—2nd-Lieutenants Royle, Goulding, Evans, and Rothwell, all of whom had seen considerable active service with the 1/6th K.L.R., and Lieutenant Parkinson and 2nd-Lieutenants Dugdale and Rule, from the "King's Own." Of the latter, Lieutenant Parkinson was a fully qualified R.F.C. pilot resting after a "crash."

On February 17th Major Turner, now convalescent after a serious wound received while serving with the 1/6th K.L.R., arrived as O. i/c Details, and began to take stock of everything; and on January 22nd the battalion appeared for the first time in khaki puttees, a sure sign that a real move overseas was intended. All the animals were examined and "duds" replaced, and all vehicles completed in all items of equipment. The distinguishing patch first approved at Aldershot, and originally consisting of a small rectangle of black and green cloth in two equal triangular sections (later divided by a thin red strip), was now abolished, and we found our new mark was a green diamond worn on each sleeve between the elbow and the shoulder.

In spite of our manifold activities, we managed to have some really good entertainments, to which our newly formed orchestra, Rifleman Kessen, the conjurer, and another rifleman, a superb banjo artiste (unfortunately, in a low medical category), added talent of the highest order; and the Divisional Band,—the old 6th it was—which had been selected from all the bands to accompany the Division overseas, came from time to time to give us the benefit of their music.

On February 3rd, 1917, we were inspected at Woking by H.R.H. the Duke of Connaught, who in a short speech wished us all God-speed.

On February 12th the transport and Lewis gunners, with their respective officers, under the command of Major H. K. Wilson, entrained at Brookwood at 9.30 a.m. for Southampton. The Battalion was to proceed on February 14th viâ Folkestone. The long years of training were over; the memories of Blackpool, Margate, Canterbury, Bourley were fast fading away. Only the future concerned us now. All that could be done by training had been done, and it now rested with each individual whether the battalion maintained its reputation and assisted the Division to justify the confidence placed in it by His Majesty the King, who had sent us the following most gracious message:—

"Officers, Non-Commissioned Officers and Men of the 57th Division,

"On the eve of your departure for active service I send you my heartfelt good wishes.

"West Lancashire Regiments have earned a high reputation on the field of battle, and from the impression I formed on the occasion of my inspection of your Division last September, I am confident that you, too, will equally uphold the traditions of the fine regiments whose names you bear.

"Your period of training has been long and arduous, but the time has now come for you to prove at the front the results of your instruction, and with your comrades now in the field to maintain the unceasing efforts necessary to bring this war to a victorious ending.

"Good luck and God speed.

"George R.I."

"February 2nd, 1917."

CHAPTER III
OVERSEAS—STRAZEELE—FLEURBAIX—BAC ST. MAUR—RUE DU BOIS—RUE MARLE—RUE DORMOIRE

February 13th. It seems impossible to believe that to-morrow the battalion really embarks for France; that the long period of training and waiting has at last come to an end, and that to-morrow we embark on the enterprise for which we all joined up, and for which some of us have now been waiting two and a half years. The sceptics of the battalion even now throw doubts on it. Admitted that the Transport and Lewis gunners have gone; admitted that the entraining orders are issued for to-night; admitted that everything is packed and ready. We have been fooled before, and likely enough this is only a ruse of the War Office to give another fillip to our flagging spirits, such as they administered in the summer when the move seemed almost a certainty; so much so, in fact, that we all enjoyed a "last leave" and returned ready for the front, only to commence the dull round of general training once more.

The barracks present an air of subdued excitement. Men stand about in groups discussing soberly the prospect of active service, each wondering in his innermost soul how he will acquit himself in the unknown trials that are before him. After all, England is a comfortable place. Life proceeds quietly and peacefully in spite of the bugle calls, the shouts of N.C.Os., the almost inhuman activity of the "physical jerks expert," and the endless exhortations of the officers. May not one in a few days be looking back on all this with bitter regret, and wondering sadly why we were so anxious to quit it and to plunge into the dangers and discomforts of war; the real war, that is to say, not the war of "blanks" and umpires, from which one returns punctually for tea, and grouses if the battalion should be half an hour late?

The only really active people are the O. i/c Details and his myrmidons. Major Turner is seen hurrying across the barrack square, hot on the trail of some deficient item of barrack equipment. The Quartermaster smiles to himself as he looks forward to the day when "destroyed by enemy action" will be the conclusive answer to all inquiries into deficiencies.

Slowly the day drags on. For fear that anything should be late, everything has been finished hours too soon. One last visit is paid to our old haunts and our old friends, and now it is time to collect our kit and get ready for the parade—"the parade," we call it, because it is different from all others. Never since the days of 1914 have we paraded with such alacrity and "dressed" with such zeal. Weird rites prescribed by King's Regulations for regiments proceeding on active service are about to be performed. The moon shines brightly, as befits this solemn ceremony. Two sergeants, not proceeding with the battalion, are standing by while the roll is called, and woe betide the absentee with such witnesses to proclaim his guilt! Surely no one, having waited so long, will now miss the chance, but yet something seems to be wrong. Company Sergeant-Majors and the Regimental Sergeant-Major are in solemn conclave with the Orderly Sergeants. Two men are missing. Reference is promptly made to the Adjutant, who is standing by, and more discussion follows. It is all right, no one has missed his chance, but the Commanding Officer's and Adjutant's servants are proceeding by taxi to the station in charge of some kit.

And now it is time to move off. As companies in turn form fours and move out of the barrack gate, it is odd to feel that we shall never again execute this familiar movement on this well-remembered spot. Quietly, in the dead of night, we move down on the frosty road to Brookwood Station. The battalion is to go in two trains, with a short interval between, the second train under the orders of Major C. W. Wilson. At Brookwood the ladies of the district are dispensing hot drinks and buns. Modern conditions have taken away the glamour of war. No longer do we leave for the fight amid a crowd of cheering people, with flags flying and bugles blowing. The ladies of Brookwood, and our unlucky pals who could not bluff the doctor, are the only ones to see us depart, but their send-off leaves nothing to be desired.

The run to Folkestone was only a matter of a couple of hours, and the early morning light saw us detraining at the Jetty Station. Here the arrangements were excellent. The R.T.O. was full of information, and guides appeared to conduct the troops to the Rest Camp. This was a crescent of pre-war lodging-houses and an hotel, all railed in. As the companies marched through the gate, the guides took them to their destined houses, where breakfast was served. The officers were conducted to the hotel and similarly provided for. The hour of parade for embarkation was simultaneously communicated to officers and men.

There were several hours to wait even after a shave and a breakfast, but the time passed quickly enough. After all, it was our last sight of England, perhaps for all time, and we were not in quite so much of a hurry as a week before. At 12.30 p.m. we marched on board s.s. Victoria, one of the regular cross-Channel boats. Besides ourselves there were innumerable officers and men returning from leave, who glanced with casual interest at the obviously new crowd going out for the first time. The Commanding Officer was O.C. Ship, and consequently entitled to a cabin, where wonderful instructions dealing with action in event of submarine attack, etc., were to be found. There was also an amusing notebook in which Os.C. Ships were asked to make their comments on the ship. The names of many distinguished Generals were to be found among the signatures, and some of the remarks were highly entertaining.

THE BATTALION BLACKPOOL, 1914.

GROUP—CANTERBURY, 1916.

The day was fine and cold, with a strong wind blowing, and although it was not exactly calm, few showed any serious signs of sea sickness. Two other transports and a couple of torpedo-boat destroyers made up the party. Boulogne was reached about 2 p.m., but owing to the speed of the other vessels we were last in. A long wait followed, and eventually we had to cross over another ship to get to the quay, a tiresome process in full kit. We had intended to have a very orderly landing, but the efforts of the Commanding Officer to get the men formed up were frustrated by the Assistant Military Landing Officer, who would not allow any halt until we were clear of all the quays and over the bridges into the town. An unpleasant and fatiguing "follow my leader" round trucks and over metals, dodging engines and motor lorries, resulted, during which process the whole battalion got well mixed up. Eventually, however, after considerable excitement, we formed up in close column of companies, and proceeded to march to Ostrehove Camp.

No one who took part in that march will ever forget it. It was not a long one, two or three miles at the most, but the last part of it was up a hill of the very steepest description. This is bad enough in itself at any time when you are carrying a heavy pack and all the rest of the impedimenta that adorn the "P.B.I.," but when, owing to burst water-pipes, the road is covered with very smooth ice for yards at a stretch, the march becomes laborious and painful to a degree.

Arrived at the top of the hill, we looked round hopefully for the promised rest camp. The sight was indeed depressing. A few dejected and battered-looking tents, one or two marquees struggling with the gale, and an odd hut or two, were the only signs of human habitation on this bleak and wretched moor. The temperature was several degrees below freezing, the wind swept over us in an icy gale, and daylight was rapidly failing. So this was active service, and how warm and comfortable those barracks at Woking were, and how strange that once we thought them cold and bare!

Little time, however, was allowed for reflections. The Camp Warden was there to introduce us to the amenities of the place, and companies and platoons were soon struggling off to try to find shelter from the wind. Blankets had to be drawn and rations issued, and as darkness fell parties were still hurrying about in every direction, endeavouring to get things straight for the night. Presently our indefatigable Quartermaster arrived, having forced a lorry driver, apparently at the point of his revolver, to bring the mechanical transport up to the camp; but how it got up, and still more how it ever got back, are among the unsolved mysteries of the war.

It now appeared that we had to entrain at Boulogne at 8 a.m. the next morning, and an early rise and breakfast were arranged. Few were sorry that our stay on this frozen mountain was to be short; most of us, indeed, regretted that we had ever to come there at all. Very early next morning all were astir. The misery of shaving with freezing water on an icy cold morning was a new experience, and no more pleasant on this than on the many subsequent occasions when it occurred. The officers were more fortunate; they had luckily secured a wooden hut, and also a good breakfast at the Church Army Hut, a veritable oasis in the desert.

After some heated moments while the Commanding Officer inspected the men, who looked rather different from the spotless battalion of Woking—how distant, by the way, that place seemed!—the battalion proceeded down the hill. The descent, if less arduous than the ascent, was certainly more perilous. Even the "higher command" could not always control its feet, and the battalion descended in various postures, mostly in a sitting or prone position; while the clatter of equipment, the crash of falling rifles, and the curses of the victims, aroused the local inhabitants, who regarded us with unseemly mirth.

On arrival at the station we found, to our surprise, that our train was in. It was of the usual kind, "Chevaux 8, Hommes 40," new to us then, but familiar to all the world now. Into this the battalion was sorted, the officers having a first-class carriage of an old-world aspect. Then we began to wait, a practice in which we were all greatly skilled, and about 9.30 a.m. we started off.

Before leaving England we had been issued with two wonderful pamphlets on embarkation and landing, containing, amongst other details, some remarkable returns of great length and complexity which had to be given to various railway, embarkation, and landing officials. The compilation of these returns had wellnigh deprived the Orderly-Room Sergeant of his wits, and but for the fact that he was to join that mysterious body called "3rd Echelon," we might have felt inclined to abandon the returns in order to save his reason. However, done they were. The next thing was to get rid of them. This proved even more difficult than their compilation; in fact, in the end we had to admit defeat. Every official wearing "tabs," a "brassard," or in any other way disclosing an official capacity, was offered these returns. Persuasion, threats, entreaties, demands were tried in turn without success. As a last resource, just as the train was moving off, they were thrust into the hands of the R.T.O. at Boulogne, who, however, hastily returned them, muttering that they were as dead as the dodo, and retaliated by presenting us with a Movement Order and a sheaf of papers dealing with the manifold responsibilities of O.C. Train.

The journey up from the Base has been so often described that it requires no particular notice here. It is a long and stately process. The train, when it moves at all, which is only occasionally and for short periods, makes a great deal of fuss about it; but if you should happen to be wandering about on the permanent way, in spite of orders to the contrary, you can always walk after it and climb on board once more. For the new-comer there was much of interest. On the outskirts of Boulogne the train passed huge dumps of war material of every possible description—guns, ammunition, wagons, trucks, stores, etc., with which gangs of "P.B." men, "Chinks," and other miscellaneous persons were coping in a leisurely fashion. As the train proceeded, the scenery of Northern France began to unfold itself. It is not very interesting—flat for the most part and agricultural, but full of differences from our own English country. The lack of hedges, the strange advertisements, the women at the level-crossings with their quaint horns, all struck a fresh note, especially for those who had never crossed the Channel before, even in the days of peace.

At 8.30 p.m., long after it was dark, the train drew into Bailleul Station, where the Staff Captain, Captain Beazley, was awaiting our arrival. Instantly everyone was galvanized into life. Huge flares illumined the darkness, and officers and N.C.Os. rushed about rousing their men, who were wildly searching in the dark recesses of their cattle-trucks for missing articles of kit. As usual, in a short time apparent chaos resolved itself into order, and the battalion moved off on its eight-mile march to billets under the guidance of an Australian, who was quite distressingly frank about his ignorance of the route. It was a trying march. The experience of the last two days, including twelve hours cramped up in trucks, had not been a very good preliminary to a three hours' tramp. Never had one's kit weighed so heavily. The "tin hat" between the pack straps seemed to increase the weight terribly. The road through the silent streets of Bailleul was cobbled, but as soon as the town was cleared a good country road with a pleasant surface took its place. Slowly the column moved along, and it was nearly midnight before we reached the forked roads where some of the companies had to branch off to their billets. The guide went with them, as the Quartermaster, who had passed us with the stores in a lorry, knew about the billets in Strazeele village. The guide, however, proved a broken reed, and much marching and counter-marching took place, and many an angry conversation with irate householders, before the tired companies at last got to rest in their respective billets—empty barns of a draughty nature. Headquarters proceeded to Strazeele, and eventually settled into billets where, in one case at any rate, a kindly hostess was waiting up with ample supplies of excellent coffee.

About six o'clock the next morning Major Wilson awoke the Adjutant to say that the transport had arrived, and where was it to go? On this question the Adjutant was entirely devoid of information, having seen nothing of the village in the blackness of the previous night. However, on further inquiry the Major found the field that had been selected, and soon the transport were settled in it, and the battalion was now collected and ready for any emergency.

Strazeele is (or was) a typical little village, consisting of two main streets forming a cross, a few straggling houses wandering off from these, two chief avenues, a church, a mairie, and innumerable estaminets. The surrounding country is slightly undulating arable land dotted with small farms, in which the various companies were billeted. The frost held for the first two days, but then the thaw set in with the thin rain and thick mud so strongly identified with Northern France and Flanders.

Beyond getting things straight, little training was attempted except the fitting of small box respirators and instruction in their use, which was duly carried out. Then each man had to pass through tear gas to test his respirator. When the Commanding Officer's turn came, Lieutenant James, the Gas Officer, to make assurance doubly sure, produced such a powerful mixture that Colonel Fletcher suffered severely, and his return to the orderly-room caused a rapid exodus of the staff with streaming eyes. The only other item of interest was the valiant attempt of a fatigue party, working night and day, to bury a dead horse in ground which, owing to the recent frost, was as hard as iron, which caused an interchange of very emphatic telegrams between Brigade and Battalion Headquarters.

Orders were now received for the Brigade to move on February 20th to the Sailly area, the battalion to pass the starting-point at 8.35 a.m. This meant early breakfasts and early preparations generally; but this, our first move on active service, proved a severe test of our training. However, after some vigorous criticisms from those in authority, we managed to take our places to time in the Brigade column, and set off for the new area in a steady drizzle. On the way we passed the Corps Commander, Lieutenant-General Sir A. J. Godley, commanding 2nd Anzac Corps.

After leaving Merville we were warned against gas shelling. This, together with the screens which now became conspicuous at all points of the road open to observation from the enemy's positions, served to remind us that we were now at last personally interested in the war, and had ceased to be mere onlookers.

In due course we arrived at La Rue de la Lys, a little distance short of Sailly, where we were to spend the night. Our billeting officer had meantime got lost; we overshot the mark and nearly reached Sailly itself, but fortunately discovered our error in time. We turned about by the military cemetery, where the first name to catch the eye was that of a sergeant who had been with us in Margate.

The billets consisted of a group of farmhouses, which with difficulty accommodated the battalion. Intermittent rumbling of artillery could now be heard quite distinctly, and you really felt that the war was getting nearer, and that any day now you might be taking an active part in it. That night we felt this still more keenly, as the New Zealand Division, whom we were to relieve, were celebrating their departure by a battalion raid, and the farmhouses shook and echoed to the roar of the guns as the barrage opened on the Germans. At all times a barrage is rather awe-inspiring, but when heard for the first time without warning on a winter's night by raw troops, the effect produced is distinctly sobering.

At 8.15 a.m. the next morning (February 17th, 1917) the battalion was on the road again, this time for Fleurbaix, just behind the line. The column was pursued by a Brigade motor-cyclist, demanding the names of two nominees for commissions. The reply that none were suitable only produced a further and more peremptory demand, and names had to be supplied. This was the beginning of that inevitable process which, more quickly even than the tax levied on the battalion by the enemy, robbed you of your best N.C.Os. as fast as you trained them.

The final stages of the march revealed clearly that we were now in the region where more than an occasional shell descended. The people of Strazeele had proudly pointed to isolated bullet marks and so forth, relics of the fighting of 1914, but here there were real shell holes and houses that had been hit obviously by something more effective than a bullet. Fleurbaix itself was a ruined village, though some of the surrounding farms were intact and flourishing. The church was a mere skeleton, and whole sides of some of the streets were in a state of collapse. Windows were few and far between, and the spaces usually covered with glass were now mostly filled with canvas, or in a few privileged places with oil-silk, which lets in the light. According to the local report, the enemy shelled the place heavily at regular intervals, gas shell being particularly plentiful in the previous bombardment. We hoped secretly that the next bombardment would be deferred for a while, and inspected our box respirators carefully before turning in that night.

As soon as the battalion reached the village the Commanding Officer and Adjutant reported to the New Zealand Brigade Headquarters, under whose orders we were to come for that night. There we met the Colonel of the 2nd Battalion Wellington Regiment, the battalion holding the line, who had come down to meet Colonel Fletcher. After a few preliminaries it was decided that the Commanding Officer and Adjutant should proceed up the line forthwith (it was then about noon), and the Company Commanders, for whom guides were provided, should come up after lunch. We were somewhat surprised to hear that we could go up on horseback, so after getting rid of spare kit and seizing tin helmets and box respirators we set off.

As we cleared the village evidences of hostile activity became more apparent, and our own 18-pounders were found in barns on either side of the road, their front being screened with hangings painted to resemble a brick house wall. The country looked depressing enough—flat as could be, and intersected with sluggish ditches full of dirty water and fringed with stunted willows. Remains of farms and flapping canvas screens stood about, looking strangely gaunt in this empty wilderness. The grass was rank and overgrown, while here and there lay remnants of trenches and great strips of rusty barbed wire, the defences of Fleurbaix. Suddenly our guide pointed to a notice, "Steel helmets will be worn forward of this point," which served to remind one, if a reminder had been necessary with shell-holes all around, that the German was within a distance measurable in yards.

After a few minutes' ride a large farm, to which had been added huts and also some defences, appeared in view. This, our guide informed us, was Elbow Farm, where the reserve company was located; likewise the best water supply and the gum-boot store. Still we went on till we came to a forked road with a large sand-bag wall. This was Sand-bag Corner, and here we left our horses. The enemy, it appeared, was a bit free with overhead machine-gun fire at night, and this screen had been put up to limit the flight of the bullets. A few minutes brought us to Wye Farm, in front of which was a large pond, and round this we skirted on duck-boards. On the right lay the military cemetery, where several figures were lying wrapped in blankets. We had met the walking wounded from the night's raid as we marched to Fleurbaix. These silent figures were those whose luck had not brought a "Blighty," but a more permanent rest in a foreign land.

Boutillerie Sector

The Headquarters at Wye Farm were in a sense commodious, but hardly of a description to inspire much confidence in a new arrival. Imagine an ordinary block of farm buildings with barn and cowshed attached. Knock holes in the roof till all the tiles and most of the beams are down; put one layer of sand-bags to protect the ceiling of the first floor in the house itself, and add sand-bag walls where walls of the usual description have ceased to exist, and you will have a fair idea of the Battalion Headquarters. There was one small sand-bag "bivvy" leading out of the orderly-room, late a stable for a couple of horses; and the regimental aid post was situated in a small brick outbuilding beyond the cemetery. In front of the house was a double duck-board track, which wandered round the corner into the farmyard behind. The Officers' Mess consisted of a low room with a fine fireplace; and the Commanding Officer's sleeping room was of reasonable size, and contained R.E. bunks for the Commanding Officer and Second-in-Command. Here we were introduced to the Second-in-Command, the Adjutant, and other Headquarters' officers of the battalion we were relieving; and then, under the guidance of the Adjutant, we set off to have a look at the line. All the way from Fleurbaix, and, in fact, the whole time we were going round the sector, the enemy preserved an entire and complete silence, due perhaps to the inoffensive nature of our particular opponents, or more probably to their rather harrowing and costly experience of the night before.

City Avenue, the communication trench we were to use, had one branch, which started from Wye Farm through a hole in the wall at the back of the farm. As in most communication trenches in that part of the world, the track rests on "A" frames to keep it above water level. Down this track we moved, experiencing for the first time the impression of the endless duck-board beneath one's feet and a few yards of trench, with an occasional glimpse of bushes or rank weeds, as the only prospect before the eye. The air was damp, and strange stale odours filled the nostrils. Everything was symptomatic of death and decay. Water and mud predominated, and everything looked dreary and unkempt to the last degree.

The support line round Hudson Bay looked fairly bright, with quite reasonable "bivvies," but the mud was there; and now empty tins and refuse of every sort began to add to the wretched aspect of the place.

As we neared the front line in the left sector—we were now in Bay Avenue—water and mud became still more plentiful, the ground even more bare, and the general sense of desolation even more pronounced. Suddenly we found ourselves in the front line—a sand-bag breastwork, looking old and weather-beaten, with a duck-walk running along it and a sudden descent of two or three feet to a continuous chain of pools of green and stagnant water. A few sand-bag "bivvies" among the traverses, an occasional roof consisting of a single sheet of corrugated iron—here was "home" for the next eight days. Whichever way you looked along the line you saw the same endless bays and traverses, most of them more or less fallen in; the same pools of evil-smelling water; the same stretches of shell-churned ground; the same old litter of tins and débris. If you turned your gaze backwards towards Wye Farm, in search of something less desolate and inhuman, the scene was hardly more inspiring. Overgrown bushes, stunted willows and mud, ill concealed by discoloured grass, were all that met the eye; and the landscape was only broken by the irregular lines of trenches which showed up in the distance like Brobdingnagian mole runs.

We visited the scene of the raiding party's exit from the line, and the smears of recent blood on the duck-boards and the pieces of field-dressing lying about similarly stained told their own story. We also heard how our advance party, who left us in Woking, had been initiated during the last few days into the mysteries of trench warfare. We then returned to Battalion Headquarters, where all the details of trench routine were gone into and explained with great clearness and precision.

No one could have been more kind and helpful than those New Zealanders, from the Commanding Officer downwards. They knew we were totally inexperienced, and they did everything possible to instruct us in the short time available. Their name became a synonym in the battalion for gallantry and courtesy, both of which qualities we had full opportunity of estimating.

As the weather was misty, and showed every sign of remaining so, it was arranged that the relief should take place on the next day (February 22nd) in daylight, commencing at 7.30 a.m. In the afternoon Company Commanders and selected N.C.Os. arrived to visit their areas, and their New Zealand opposite numbers proved as helpful and instructive as the Battalion Headquarters staff had been.

That night in Fleurbaix was quiet enough, and it was hard to realize how close we were to the war. The village, in fact, was only a mile or two from the British front line. As one looked from the windows, Véry lights could be seen shooting up into the sky, while the rattle of desultory machine-gun fire rang clear in the stillness of the night. Billets, on the whole, were good, the houses we used being but slightly damaged; but the draughts through the broken panes, and the subdued light caused by opaque coverings, did not make for comfort, as that word was understood by those whose idea of billets was a snug room in Blackpool or Margate.

Next morning (February 22nd) revealed a scene of great activity. Relief day is always a busy one, but when the process has not yet become so familiar as to be almost a second nature there is considerable excitement, and not a little confusion, before things begin to straighten out. Our guides, one for each platoon, duly arrived, and at 7.30 a.m. Captain Gilling and his heavily laden company were moving off. To the uninitiated it might seem that the Army Authorities had given the infantry soldier under ordinary circumstances, as much permanent equipment as one man could well carry. But it is a trifle compared with the loads carried on a relief. It is true that greater experience enabled one to devise means for reducing the distance over which these extra items had to be borne; but on this occasion, owing to the request of the New Zealanders to reduce horse transport as far as possible in case visibility improved, the men struggled off under fearful burdens. In the peaceful days of trench warfare a relief was almost tantamount to a household removal. There were valises, mess boxes, orderly-room boxes, Lewis guns, carriers for Lewis-gun drums, Véry pistols, periscopes, gum-boots, wire-cutters, rations, fuel, and a thousand and one other things to be taken up. The rate of movement decreases in proportion to the load, and consequently one mile per hour became the average pace. Companies proceeded in an order determined by the distance each had to cover. "A" Company led off, as they were bound for the right sector of the front line, viâ Elbow Farm and Tin Barn Avenue. Captain Steward and "B" Company followed, heading for the left sector of the front line past Wye Farm and up City Avenue and Bay Avenue. Captain Eccles and "C" Company only had to go to Jay Post, as the support line was in close proximity to Battalion Headquarters; while Major Charles Wilson and "D" Company had to go no farther than Elbow Farm, where life "in reserve" was comparatively peaceful—"comparatively" only, because all the fatigues and working parties generally fall to the lot of the reserve company, which means that the night is spent in tramping about and toiling. Headquarters proceeded last. They are not required till the relief is well advanced, and the Headquarters of the battalion being relieved can begin to dribble out and make room for them.

Reports of "relief complete" soon began to arrive, and the last company was through in a remarkably short time, a fact which the New Zealanders commented on with pleasure. Nothing is more annoying for an outgoing unit than to be held up by a bad relief. The last words of wisdom were spoken, trench stores signed for, and the other little formalities completed. With a cheery "Good luck!" and a hearty handshake they were off, and our Commanding Officer found himself for the first time in sole charge of a sector. As soon as our friends were clear, he, with his usual energy, was calling for his runner, and was off round the line to see how "A" and "B" Companies were getting on. With their wonted consideration, the New Zealanders had left an officer and N.C.O. for the first twenty-four hours with each company, knowing that the first night in the trenches is rather a strain, and the helping hand of the experienced was a great asset. Many were the problems which were exercising the minds of the Company Commanders as the Commanding Officer visited them in turn. Endless questions of detail presented themselves, which had first to be learnt and understood by oneself, and the information then passed on to the company—a far more laborious and difficult task.

Only a few hours of daylight remained, and there was still much to be done. The lists of things contained in the Trench Standing Orders, "What every Platoon Commander should know," "What every Section Commander should know," and so forth, were enough to distract the most phlegmatic mind, especially when nobody knew the answers to half the questions. The ideal—that is, when everyone knows and understands the answers to all these vital questions—is never attained except in a sector in which every member of the battalion knows them by heart, and at present no one had the requisite knowledge. To add to the difficulties, you constantly lost your way and wandered aimlessly in half derelict trenches, searching in vain for (say) No. 2 Post, where Sergeant X., only recently promoted to that exalted rank, was certain to be in need of advice and assistance. Eventually, giving up for the time all hope of finding this elusive post, you decide to return to Company Headquarters, where the Company Sergeant-Major is anxiously working out patrols, ration parties, and duties of every description, only to find your own Headquarters even more cunningly concealed than the much-sought No. 2 Post. In vain you consult the elegant sketch map of the trenches, that pretty but fallacious document which shows the way so clearly, but omits any reference to disused trenches, which often look in such good condition as to lead you astray and lure you by gradual stages into a forlorn wilderness of abandoned saps. It is all very trying.

The sector itself—La Boutillerie, as it was called—requires little description beyond what has already been given and what can be seen on the map. Its two outstanding features were the Salient, a triangular piece of trench said to have been dug in one night during the days before trench warfare became stabilized, and Jay Post, a wonderful deep dug-out of magnificent proportions, which was but slightly used, as the enemy, in spite of our elaborate camouflage, had all its exits accurately registered.

That night, and in fact all the time the battalion was in this sector, the Germans were amazingly quiet. It is true that the vicinity of Battalion Headquarters, the road leading up to it, and the principal communication trenches, were liberally bespattered with machine-gun bullets. This was apt to "put the wind up" those whose duties compelled them to move about at night, and caused many curses to be heaped on the head of "Parapet Joe," as the chief offender was called, from the skill with which he could traverse along our front line parapet, with its many variations in level, even on the darkest night. An occasional "minnie" also descended on the front line with a loud report; and the Brewery, where the pump was, and where the observers had an observation post along with the gunners, received spasmodic attention from "whizz-bangs." At first people in the front line talked in whispers, although generally speaking the enemy was 400 yards away; but common sense, and the war experience of some of the officers who had been out with the 1/6th Battalion, soon put an end to that and many other little absurdities. The main stumbling-block at night was the tendency of people, contrary to orders, to take refuge in shelters and "bivvies." The order forbidding this caused considerable heartburning, though its sound sense was clear enough.

The weather, after being muggy and wet, had now turned bitterly cold again, and nights in the trenches under arctic conditions are never pleasant, and for the new-comer very trying. Accordingly, we were not sorry to be informed that our time in the line was to be of only four days' duration, and almost before we had realized we were in the line, officers and N.C.Os. of the 2/7th K.L.R. were arriving on tours of exploration. On the last night we had our first casualties, a "minnie" falling right on to a post, killing three men and wounding two. The fortune of war is very curious: some men go for months, and even years, unscathed through dangers of every description; others, like these three, are killed on their first tour of duty in one of the quietest sectors in France. We buried them next day in the cemetery by Battalion Headquarters, and it was melancholy to realize that the dissolution of our happy band had now commenced in grim earnest, and was likely to proceed more rapidly in the days to come.

At 7.30 a.m. (February 26th, 1917) the relief commenced, and in due course the companies were finding their way back to billets at Fleurbaix, feeling themselves twice the men they were but a few days before. They knew now what the real trenches were; previously their knowledge had been limited to those poor imitations at the Foresters Public-House at Aldershot.

Before completing the impressions of our first tour in the line, we cannot omit one thing from our account of this sector; not that the phenomenon is peculiar to these trenches or any other particular sector—in fact, till the more persistent use of gas sounded their death knell, they were to be found everywhere, "they" being, of course, rats. Now at home, in small numbers and well under the control enforced by long-established civilization, rats present no particular terrors or inconvenience except, perhaps, to a sensitive female. But in the trenches, where food was abundant and engines of destruction, at least as far as rats were concerned, few, they waxed plentiful, and their audacity increased with their size and their numbers. Not content with running all over the duck-boards, and all but refusing to step aside and let you pass, they ran riot in your dug-out, gnawed your clothes, devoured your food, scampered all over you as you slept, and in one notorious case caused grave inconvenience to a Medical Officer by removing bodily his set of false teeth. In the front line they climbed on the sleeping soldier and gnawed through his haversack to reach his iron ration. In the "bivvy" they nibbled holes in a man's socks as he lay on the ground. In fact, so bold were they that you could fire two or three rounds at a rat and hit all round him before he would condescend to move at all, and then he would only twitch his whiskers and remove himself in a leisurely fashion to some less disturbed spot. The services of Mr. Browning's "Pied Piper" would have been invaluable to us. There were, to be sure, various trench cats and an occasional dog, but they had other and better means of subsistence and took little heed of the rats. So the latter flourished, and, though curious diseases broke out among them, their lot must have been a happy one till the gas shells began to fall in every sector, and then their numbers dwindled rapidly, and in many parts they "ceased to be," at any rate for the moment.

Our second visit to Fleurbaix, for our first had been but a fleeting one, enabled us to get a more comprehensive view of our surroundings. The destruction in the village proved more considerable than had at first been realized, and though civilians abounded, the place had a weary and depressed air, which was hardly to be wondered at. Everything looked so sadly out of repair; little attempt had been made, or was indeed possible, to make good the ravages of war. Streets where there was little traffic were grass grown, gardens were rank with weeds, fences and railings were broken down, and débris of bricks and mortar littered the ground. Work on improving billets was at once put in hand, and things left unfinished by the 2/7th K.L.R. were completed and improved, in accordance with one of the unwritten laws of trench life—viz., "Always leave a place better than you find it." The 2/8th K.L.R., working with the 2/5th K.L.R., occupied in turn billets opposite ours; and in rear of the village in quite a decent house were Brigade Headquarters, pleasantly adjacent to a couple of 60-pounders!

THE OFFICERS MARGATE, 1915.

Being now Battalion in Brigade Reserve, we were initiated at once into one of the special functions of that privileged position, the reconnoitring of emergency routes. This necessary but tedious performance is complicated by the very hazy details usually supplied, and the tendency of the local inhabitants to remove guide posts and to put wire fences across the tracks.

Although the battalion remained in Fleurbaix till March 6th as Brigade and Divisional Reserve, it must not be imagined that the time was an idle one. Even in so-called "rest periods" the infantry are never allowed much peace, while in reserve in the vicinity of the front line there is more than enough for all to do. To begin with, the troops found, to their disgust, that general training was not confined to England, and for those not otherwise employed the usual physical training and bayonet fighting, rapid loading, wiring, and all the other inventions of the training enthusiast, appeared once more on the scene. All the same, the proximity of the enemy added interest to the bayonet fighting and other exercises, for no one knew but that skill in those arts, and of the very highest order, might be demanded of every man at the shortest notice. The natural tendency to dirtiness and slovenly appearance produced by a time in muddy trenches had also to be checked, and the battalion soon realized that the best soldiers in action are generally the best turned-out behind the line.

Apart from training in arms and discipline, the majority of the battalion were heavily engaged, under R.E. supervision, in digging or cleaning out drains and channels in rear of the line. This most necessary but unpleasant and tedious work fills the soul of the fighting man with burning indignation; and though warnings to that effect had often been uttered, it took practical experience to prove that more than half an infantryman's work consists of digging. It is curious to note that, essential as is proficiency in the use of the spade, no real instruction in the subject is ever given at Officers' or N.C.Os'. Schools, though to watch an untrained digger and a trained one working side by side is a revelation. In Major Bishop, R.E., we found a man full of knowledge and withal of consideration and tact. Everyone liked him, and while he commanded the Field Company with which we worked, though misunderstandings sometimes arose and mistakes occurred, as was inevitable, our relations with him were always most cordial, and it was with deep regret that we heard of his death at Passchendaele later in the year. His place was, luckily, filled by another good man.

There is nothing particularly amusing, still less heroic, about a night working party. As soon as the light begins to fail the parties fall in, wearing gum-boots and skeleton equipment, with the rifle slung across the back. Each man carries a pick or shovel, or, if it is a wiring party, rolls of wire slung on a stick between two men. Off they go, their footsteps, owing to the rubber soles, sounding rather ghostly as they tramp along the pavé. Rapidly darkness falls, and, except for the subdued sound of their feet, the gentle "swish" of water in the water-bottles, and the occasional "clang" as someone stumbles and hits his spade against his rifle, there is little in their progress to attract attention. Presently the party halts, and a voice from the darkness inquires: "Is that 'A' working party, 2/6th K.L.R.?" The answer is in the affirmative, and the party is allotted its task.

An occasional Véry light shows up the men in silhouette, their rifles and equipment lying in a row out of the way of the earth they are throwing up, but ready to hand in case of emergency. Presently a machine gun begins to speak and slowly traverses in their direction. The work continues, but attention is centred on the stream of bullets which may suddenly spray right across the party. Here it comes, and down they all go on their stomachs as the bullets hiss and crack above them. It ceases as suddenly as it began, and work proceeds again. Another moment and there is a swift, rushing sound, followed at once by a loud report, then by another and yet another in quick succession. Those nearest hastily take cover, for a "whizz-bang" at close quarters can be very destructive. The stretcher-bearers accompanying the party listen for the call, "Stretcher-bearers forward," but no one calls, and work begins again. About midnight it is finished. Plastered with mud—thick, stinking mud—the men collect their equipment, spades and picks are checked (it is so easy to leave some behind, just put down for a moment and forgotten) and off they go, listening eagerly for the order, "Smoke if you like," back to Fleurbaix, where hot tea awaits them; "and so to bed," as Mr. Pepys says.

Another interesting experience was our first visit to the Divisional Baths. This entailed a pleasant march in light order to Sailly, where bathing apparatus had been erected in a disused factory. The apparatus consisted of showers and tubs. As each man passed in he handed over all his personal effects and received a numbered disc in exchange. He then proceeded to undress, and while he was bathing his uniform was "stoved." As soon as the bather had dried himself he was presented with a clean set of underclothing, and his soiled linen was removed. This was really an excellent system, but it suffered from one serious drawback. A man gave up a good shirt and perhaps his own home-knitted socks. The quality, not to mention the size, of the articles issued in return did not always correspond to those handed in. This was apt to be a frequent source of complaint, but, taking all things into consideration, it did not appear that any other system was feasible. For the officers there were half a dozen hip-baths, surrounded by duck-boards, with which, in fact, the whole floor of the baths was covered; and though the Commanding Officer possessed a rubber saucer-bath, which he lent freely to the other officers, a complete immersion in hot water was a pleasure too keen to be resisted, and the comfort of it almost indescribable.

One rather interesting little ceremony was performed at Fleurbaix. This was the presentation by our billet lady at Headquarters to each of the battalion runners of a rosary specially blessed by the priest. She assured them that so long as they wore these rosaries no harm could befall them, and it is interesting to note that only two out of the ten died: one of them, Manick, was killed in 1918 while serving with another battalion; the other, Turnock, died as a prisoner-of-war, having been captured while serving with another unit. Manick, it is said, had sent his rosary home a few days before he was killed.

At 7.30 a.m. on March 6th "Gipsy," the new code name for our battalion, commenced to relieve "Giddy," the nom de guerre of the 2/7th K.L.R. The order of march this time was "C," "D," "B," "A"; "C" on the right and "D" on the left in the front line, "B" in support, and "A" in reserve. An innovation, always adopted in future, was made by the dispatch of signallers into the line ahead of the battalion, thus ensuring the proper take-over of signal stations throughout the sector in the ample time at their disposal. Taking over a complicated exchange at Headquarters and smaller switch-boards at the Company Headquarters, involving as it does a clear understanding of which line is which and where it is laid, where the test boxes are, and so forth, is a business that requires care and takes time. The irritating and even disastrous results that might arise from mistakes or erroneous information can easily be imagined.

Nothing eventful happened during the relief, but Headquarters were interested to learn that the Germans had shelled Wye Farm, putting one shell, in fact, right through the roof just above where Colonel Slater was sleeping. The New Zealanders had warned us that the place looked like an empty ruin from the enemy's position, and that only charcoal or coke should be used during the day, so as to prevent smoke. Whether these precautions had been relaxed, or whether the enemy was merely being spiteful, was not clear; but at any rate the work of making shell-proof "bivvies" which had already commenced, was hurried on, and "baby elephants," the smaller corrugated iron semi-circular shelters, began to arrive and were inserted into some of the rooms, together with a liberal supply of sand-bags.

The weather was again positively arctic, and everyone looked half frozen. No one, therefore, was particularly displeased when orders were issued at 11 p.m. on March 7th that "Gilt"—i.e., the 2/8th K.L.R.—would relieve us, commencing at 8 a.m. the next morning. The 2/8th K.L.R. were in the trenches on our right, and the scheme was that they should thin out their posts and with the surplus troops take over the most vital positions in our sector. This thinning-out process was taking place all up and down the line, men being drawn from quiet sectors to increase the number available for the great offensive planned for 1917. Profound secrecy was to be maintained, and strict orders were issued that no troops should move in daylight along routes where they might be detected. Nature, however, took the matter into her own hands, and thoughtfully provided a blizzard throughout the whole period of the relief.

The orders for the relief were somewhat complicated. Two platoons of "C" Company were to move out at once, the other two to remain and be relieved in the positions they held. "D" Company could release one platoon and retain three; "B" Company released two platoons less one section, and "A" Company the same. Plenty of guides were provided, each supplied with a note as to the location and name of his post, and the relief proceeded steadily and without a hitch. Wye Farm, from being a Battalion Headquarters, sank to the more humble position of a telephone exchange, with one section to guard it.

An interesting item in the orders was paragraph 9, which stated that on March 9th the battalion would proceed to Bac St. Maur into billets, and that 2nd-Lieutenant Clarke was to proceed there at once as billeting officer. The battalion gradually percolated to Fleurbaix as the relief proceeded, and the Quartermaster and his satellites were busy there packing up and making ready for the move on the morrow. The Quartermaster's Stores and transport lines were already quite close to Bac St. Maur, and many were the inquiries as to the sort of billets we were likely to get.

For the following morning orders were issued on the zero principle, companies and platoons being ordered to fall in at so many minutes after zero, which was 9.30 a.m. It was an experiment in timing, and was not used again except for active operations. Intervals of 50 yards between platoons and 200 yards between companies had to be observed, while a space of 50 yards had also to be maintained between every group of three vehicles. These precautions were valuable, not only in the case of hostile artillery fire, but also to prevent congestion and blocks on the narrow French roadways. Never, even in rest areas, did a battalion move in that solid stream of which we used to be so proud in England. Long distances between battalions and shorter distances between companies was the invariable rule, though it gave a battalion a somewhat disjointed appearance and, if horses for any reason were not available, made communications between the companies rather a tedious performance on the march.

The distance to Bac St. Maur was only a matter of two or three miles, and we were soon there. The village consisted of two long rows of ugly houses and factories on either side of the main Lille—Armentières—Estaires road. Most of the houses were small and poor-looking, such as you find in little industrial villages; and the pavé road, much in need of repair owing to the continuous stream of lorries, by no means added to the beauty of the place, which indeed looked dreary enough. However, it seemed pretty peaceful, and the war seemed removed to a far greater distance than the few miles traversed really warranted. After the usual discussion over billets—for everyone thinks another company has done better than his own in the allotment—the battalion settled down very comfortably, and prepared to carry out the work usually assigned to a Brigade in Divisional Reserve—viz., providing working parties. Of these there were two distinct kinds: one was for the improvement of the line of strong posts in front of Fleurbaix, which rejoiced in such names as "Croix Marèchal," "Command Post," "Ferret Post," etc., where the only excitement was an occasional shower of "whizz-bangs"; the other was working on the dumps at Strazeele, which meant starting by motor transport at 6 a.m.—or rather being ready to start then, as the lorry was anything up to two hours late. For the rest of the men there was general training, and the companies were changed about daily.

A pleasant addition to Bac St. Maur was the Divisional theatre bought by our Division from the Australians. It was a large army hut, suitably fitted with stage, etc., and here the Divisional Concert Party, "The Dons," used to perform with great skill.

We were much worried at this time with anti-gas instructions. Not only did the Divisional Gas Officer, whom we had not seen since our first arrival at Strazeele, begin to realize our existence once more and come to inspect respirators, but countless instructions came out containing a perfect maze of directions. The whole of the front was divided into zones—"Gas Alert," "Precautionary," etc.—and notice boards were posted on the roads warning the wayfarer as to which zone he was entering. Further, when the wind was "dangerous," boards revealed that fact to all and sundry, and harrowing accounts were circulated as to the swiftness with which the German gas penetrated into back areas.

The Quartermaster's stores and transport lines were quite pleasantly situated on a side road about ten minutes' walk from the battalion. The former consisted of two or three small Armstrong huts, where the Quartermaster and Transport Officer lived in considerable comfort and entertained freely. All the animals were in good covered standings, and the billets for the drivers and the grooms were conveniently adjacent. The transport section always distinguished themselves by their taste for beautifying their surroundings, and in their spare moments Lieutenant Hutchinson and Sergeant Lloyd had many an anxious discussion as to the most suitable site for a row of whitewashed stones, collected with great trouble from the neighbourhood.

One thing which impressed us during our stay in Bac St. Maur was the very pronounced salient in which we were living. At night this was very marked, as in whichever direction you turned Véry lights could be seen in your rear. So striking, in fact, was this that a soldier of another battalion, somewhat the worse for drink, came up to Lieutenant Sutherland one evening, and, pointing to those Véry lights rising well behind our backs, inquired in a confidential manner: "Can you tell me, sir, if that is the same war as we are taking part in?"

On March 17th our first draft of officers, three in number, arrived—2nd-Lieutenants McWilliam, Fell, and Hodgkinson. Of these McWilliam had been badly wounded in 1915 while serving as a sergeant in the 1/6th K.L.R. As against this access of strength we had to set the loss of a sergeant and a number of men who had to be sent as bridge guard to Estaires, and whose return, when we had ceased to be in Divisional Reserve for some months, was only effected after a very lengthy correspondence. Sergeant Webster was also dispatched on traffic control duty, at which work he remained till the end.

We had thought in England that we knew something about men being employed on extra-regimental duty, but the few we had so employed there was a trifle to the host supplied by us in France. Corps, Divisional and Brigade clerks, area sanitary men, Divisional Baths employees, cooks and servants at Formation Headquarters, traffic control, A.S.C. loaders, men loaned to trench-mortar and machine-gun companies, gum-boot store-keepers, tramway men, men employed at Corps Rest Camps, N.C.O. instructors at schools, and Heaven knows what else, continued to be a steady drain on the battalion. Vacancies for courses, too, came pouring in; and when you consider the number of cooks, transport drivers, clerks, police, storemen, etc., who are required for every battalion's own use, it will be clear enough that the number left in platoons and sections for ordinary duty was very small.

Our time in reserve was now drawing to a close, and it appeared that on March 29th we were due to relieve the 2/5th South Lancashire Regiment in the Rue du Bois sector north of (and next but one to) La Boutillerie, the Fleurbaix trenches. The usual procedure followed. We (i.e., the Commanding Officer and Adjutant) set off one morning and rode along the road to Erquinghem, where we turned off to the right and called at La Rolanderie, a pleasant farmhouse with some extra Nissen huts, the Headquarters of the 172nd Brigade, the present tenants of the sector. From there, after the usual discussion about the enemy and the disadvantages and peculiarities of our new sector, we proceeded viâ Gris Pot and La Vesée to a junction of roads a few hundred yards south of the latter place. Here the horses were left, and inadvertently our tin helmets, which were hanging from our saddles, and we proceeded on foot. The country was flat and depressing. Tattered screens stood here and there masking the roads. An occasional section of guns hidden in old houses; a runner or two riding along the pavé on that invention of the devil an army cycle; an artillery officer and his signallers making for a forward observation post—those were the only signs of life. All the houses were untenanted, which was to be regretted, as piquant advertisements testified to the excellence of Pierre Les Cornez beer!

In the background behind the German front line the slopes of the famous Aubers Ridge, the barrier that blocked the road to Lille, rose steadily to a height of more than fifty metres, almost a mountain-range in this flat country, giving the enemy a very fine view of all our activities. Passing Billet and Ration Farms, which bristled with R.E. material and salvage, we crossed a duck-board bridge and struck the subsidiary line of the Bois Grenier sector on the immediate right of the Rue du Bois. We plodded steadily along the duck-board track till Desolanque Farm (or Deplanque Farm, as its real name is: the official map is wrong), the usual ruin surrounded by a rectangular moat, appeared in view. The subsidiary line ran about fifty yards in front of this, and close up against it, in a long concrete dug-out, were the Battalion Headquarters that we were seeking. Down the steps into this dug-out we descended with more haste than dignity, as the enemy selected this particular moment to send a shower of "whizz-bangs" into the farm, just skimming the top of the dug-out. In the narrow stairway we met the Commanding Officer, full of wrath. "Whizz-bangs" generally meant that too many people were wandering about in the vicinity of the farm, and strict orders had been issued to prevent this. It is extraordinary how insensible to danger the average man soon becomes, and the most reasonable orders for the protection of life are ignored or disregarded unless very strictly enforced.

The Headquarters consisted of a very long concrete passage with five small rooms opening on to it—the mess, two sleeping rooms, a signal office, and the Adjutant's office and sleeping room combined. All the rooms were small and required artificial light, and a general feeling of chilly damp prevailed everywhere. We arranged ourselves as best we could in the mess; but we were all crowded together in a space far too small for the number of occupants, and the table was covered with maps, defence schemes, aeroplane photographs, and the usual litter of a trench headquarters, not to mention box respirators, tin helmets, and other impedimenta which are hastily doffed on entering a dug-out.

RUE DE BOIS SECTOR.

It appeared that the artillery observers had decided that the Germans were registering, and a sketch map that was produced showed the area which it was presumed they intended to raid. Colonel Bates, of the 2/5th South Lancashire Regiment, was rather contemptuous of the whole thing, and ascribed the apparent registration to mere casual shooting on various targets. But, at any rate, the matter had to be attended to, although the expected raid never took place. The line was held with three companies in the front and support lines, and two in the subsidiary line, the additional company being supplied by another battalion. The total frontage was about 2,800 yards, and to cover this a system of "gaps" and "localities" had been arranged—i.e., a series of posts covering vital points of the line. The "gaps" were ordinary but unoccupied trenches, often derelict; but they were usually wired and made difficult to penetrate.

Before leaving the 2/5th South Lancashire Regiment we were introduced to Major Brookes, M.C., A/286 Battery R.F.A., and from that moment commenced a long and lasting friendship with a most gallant and capable officer in whom every man (and all knew him) placed the utmost confidence. In the trying days ahead in Houplines at its worst Major Brookes was daily round the line; and though his battery was continually shelled by guns of every calibre, he always managed to do all we asked him, and never failed to let the enemy have even more than his daily quota of 18-pounder shells.

At 8 p.m. on March 28th Lieutenant F. C. Bowring, Sergeant Machell, and the company Lewis gunners set off for the trenches. In view of a possible hostile raid, it was thought advisable that they should relieve in daylight, and be in a position to make their presence really felt on the relief night in the event of the Germans choosing that time for a raid. The route to be taken was viâ Erquinghem, Armentières, and Rue Marle Level Crossings, and then straight down past Crown Prince House to the subsidiary line, where they were to spend the night, taking over their posts at dawn the following day.

It was a long and tiring march of many miles from Bac St. Maur, and one which was considered too long for the battalion to undertake at one stretch on relief night, and it was therefore arranged that a long tea halt should be made in Armentières. The Commanding Officer decided to spend the afternoon of the relief day (March 29th) in the trenches with the Company Commanders; while Major Wilson was to meet the battalion in Armentières, where he and the Quartermaster were making the necessary arrangements for housing and tea; and the Adjutant brought up the battalion. Coming through Chapelle d'Armentières on their way back from the trenches, a question arose between the Commanding Officer and the Company Commanders as to the location of some place on the map. As it was raining and they wanted to examine the map, they adjourned to a ruined house for a few minutes. The point at issue being settled, and time getting on, they hurried out of the house and on down the street. They had not gone thirty yards when a shell entered the house they had just vacated and blew the place to smithereens. How often in this and in every other war a few minutes have made the difference between life and death!

The school at 57, Rue de Lille, had been selected for the tea halt, a place eminently suited for the purpose, and fairly safe from possible interference by the enemy. It was a fine building built round a playground, with the front facing the Rue de Lille, and one side of the school facing the Rue Gambetta. It had obviously been repeatedly hit by shells of various sizes, but the Germans had not shelled Armentières itself for some time; and although the concentration of the whole of the battalion in such a small space caused some misgivings, the scheme worked excellently, and nothing untoward occurred. Field kitchens arrived with the companies, and as soon as tea was well under way the officers repaired in turns to the "Au Bœuf," an excellent restaurant—one of the few still doing business in the town.

At 7 p.m. the head of the battalion arrived at Sand-bag Corner, a junction of roads with a great sand-bag barricade on the way to Chapelle d'Armentières, where guides awaited us. The companies were to hold in the order "D," "A" (now commanded by Captain Wyatt), "C" from the right, with "B" Company in reserve in the subsidiary line, which "B" Company, 2/7th K.L.R., proceeding viâ Gris Pot and La Vesée, had already taken over, as extra company in the subsidiary line, from a company of the 2/4th South Lancashire Regiment. For the first time the men wore their packs detached from their equipment on kicking-straps, this again being due to the possibility of a raid; and in future this was the order for all reliefs, the manifold advantages being very obvious. The last part of the route up to the subsidiary line was along a lane full of shell-holes, but the frequent illumination produced by German Véry lights made the going fairly simple. Transport came right up to Battalion Headquarters, and dumps were formed accordingly in the subsidiary line for Headquarters and for each company. The relief proceeded quietly and without incident, and its speed was naturally increased by the possibility, owing to their number, of having "up" and "down" communication trenches—Wine Avenue and Leith Walk the former; Park Row, Wellington Avenue, and Cowgate the latter. At 12.40 a.m. on March 30th relief was reported complete, and our friends of the 2/5th South Lancashire Regiment proceeded joyfully to Crown Prince House and the reserve billets in the Rue Marle.

The tour, in spite of the gloomy forebodings of the gunners, proved quiet enough. For the first night or two strong fighting patrols lay up in No Man's Land in the hope of catching the enemy raiding party. The Germans, however, showed no signs of any hostile intent, and after a day or two the various precautions that had been adopted were discarded.

The left sector came in for a considerable amount of shelling, particularly in the vicinity of Captain Eccles's Headquarters and also the Ferme de Biez in rear of it, which our observers used to haunt. However, there was plenty of room in the sector for shells to fall without doing any serious harm, and our casualties were, fortunately, very low in consequence. In the right company's front a stream came in under the front line and wandered across the sector. Strict orders had been issued that the water was not to be used for drinking or cooking, inasmuch as it came from the enemy's line. Walking round one day, Captain McHugh, our newly arrived and most delightful Irish Medical Officer, took a sample for analysis through curiosity. It was interesting to learn that a strong arsenic result was obtained.

A small incident that occurred during this tour, while we were still fresh and inexperienced, and which caused considerable merriment at the time, may be worth recounting here. In the apex of the salient C.S.M. Barker, of "D" Company, had found a rifle-grenade machine—simply the barrel of a rifle mounted on a fixed stand, at a point within comfortable range of the enemy trench. Now, Barker had in the training days in England been Bombing Sergeant, and was anxious to give a practical demonstration of the skill he had acquired in the handling of these treacherous and dangerous weapons. Moreover, O.C. "D" Company was determined to show his company that "live and let live" was not to be their motto, so his support in the venture was assured. "I will come down to-night, corporal, and send a few over," remarked Barker in an off-hand manner to Corporal Wright, whose section held the post of honour at the salient. Accordingly that same night Barker, with a small host of supporters, including Lieutenant Ormrod, the Trench Officer, F. G. Roberts, the Trench Sergeant, Riflemen Forster, Alpine, and Liderth from the next post, and Moody and Heath (runners) was to be seen in the vicinity of the lethal weapon. All took such cover as they could while Barker loaded the machine with a "Newton Pippin" and prepared to do his worst. "Look out!" Bang! With a thin whistling sound the grenade wended its way towards the enemy. Tense silence. A second later an uninteresting report over the way. Hardly had that noise subsided than a sinister "pop" was heard. "What was that? Keep low!" A rushing, hissing noise approached, becoming rapidly louder. Clang! Clang! as "pineapple" after "pineapple" burst in and among the party, covering the prostrate soldiers with mud as they flattened themselves against the ground. A swift crawling, creeping, shuffling, and the party were hurrying away blindly trying to escape from "those damned things!" For the remainder of the night the shoot was "off."

However, O.C. "D" Company was reluctant to leave the initiative with the enemy. It is true that we might have known that he had the spot registered from his previous experience, and that we laughed heartily over the whole thing. Still, something had to be done. Suddenly O.C. "D" Company remembered that at 6 a.m. the next morning the Light Trench Mortar Battery were to do a shoot, supported by 18-pounders if required. Here was the chance of showing the Germans that "D" Company were not easily worsted. It was arranged that a "Newton" should be mounted once more. Watches were quietly synchronized with the unsuspecting Light Trench Mortar Battery. At five seconds before 6 a.m. the "Newton" was fired. Instantly came the German retaliation as before, but hardly had the "pineapples" started when our Light Trench Mortar Battery opened with great vigour. This annoyed the enemy, who were expecting another easy victory, and the aid of their artillery was invoked. To this our 18-pounders replied, and before long a regular artillery duel was in full swing. This was more than the Germans bargained for, and they soon stopped. "D" Company were avenged!

At night we used to get magnificent views of distant barrages, especially towards the south. It was a wonderful sight, like summer lightning, only more vivid and impressive; while every now and again the uniform colour of yellowish light would be shot with a sudden streak of vivid red as a dump exploded or some conflagration broke out. It was fascinating to watch the endless dance of flickering light against the blackness of the sky. One minute the whole heaven was lit up, the next moment all was dark; or perhaps a series of small flashes appeared, darting up now here, now there. If the barrage was far away, no sound would be heard, though if you entered a dug-out facing in that direction you would be conscious of a dull rumbling that warned you this was no mere pyrotechnic display, but the most nerve-wracking feature of modern war, an intense bombardment.

During this time we learnt with regret that General Gilbert, who had commanded in turn for many years first the original and then the Second Line Liverpool Infantry Brigade, was returning to England on account of age, being relieved by Brigadier-General R. N. Bray, C.M.G., D.S.O., of The Duke of Wellington's Regiment. General Gilbert's dignified kindness had made him most popular with all ranks, and we would gladly have continued under his leadership, come what might. He arrived one morning with his successor, and after the usual introductions they were proceeding round the line when a curious thing happened. Going along the front line just short of Chard's Farm, they must have been spotted. Fortunately, however, General Gilbert stopped a few moments in a part of the trench hidden from observation to point out certain features of the ground. As they resumed their walk along the trench to the farm, it suddenly became the centre of a regular storm of "whizz-bangs," obviously timed to greet their arrival, which had so happily been delayed.

Another visitor was Major Derry, D.S.O., of the Welch Regiment, who had just succeeded the late Major Thompson as G.S.O.2. Major Thompson had been practically cut in two by a "whizz-bang" while talking to Colonel Cohen, of the 2/5th K.L.R., outside the latter's Headquarters in the Bois Grenier sector. We had seen little of Major Thompson, but what we had seen we liked. Major Derry, with his cheery laugh and complete disregard of personal danger, soon became highly popular among us.

Photo by Gale & Polden. Ltd., Aldershot.

THE KING'S INSPECTION—REVIEW GROUND, LAFFAN'S PLAIN, 1916.

On the evening of March 6th the 2/7th K.L.R. relieved us, commencing at 8 p.m. with the right front company. "B" Company in the subsidiary line was to remain as extra company, merely moving along to the positions held during our tour of duty by "B" Company 2/7th K.L.R. Soon after midnight the battalion was clear of the trenches and heading for Rue Marle, where the reserve billets were situated. At the top of the long straight stretch past Crown Prince House "D" Company turned to the right, and were billeted in houses on the left of the road; "A" and "C" turned to the left, "A" Company being next to Rue Marle Church, a bright red brick edifice with a brick spire, looking as if it had only been finished the day before; while "C" Company were in houses several hundred yards farther down the same road.

Nothing of much importance happened while the battalion was in reserve at Rue Marle. One company was always detailed as inlying piquet, and spent its time training in the vicinity of its billets. The other companies were up nightly, carrying medium trench mortar ammunition up into the trenches in preparation for the raid to be carried out by the composite company of 172nd Brigade—"Paynter's party," as it was called, after their Brigadier.

One morning the Corps and Divisional Commanders arrived at Crown Prince House and immediately demanded a map showing the Fleury Switch. Every conceivable map was produced, but in vain; nor had anyone the faintest idea what the switch was to which they so repeatedly referred. In the end the A.D.C. to the Corps Commander sped back to the car (left round the corner out of sight), and in due course produced the precious map, and the party proceeded on their way restored to a more amiable frame of mind.

On the night of March 11th "D" Company relieved "B" Company in the subsidiary line. A night or so before a German aeroplane had made a determined effort to do them serious harm by dropping a number of heavy bombs in their immediate vicinity. Oddly enough, that night, as the Adjutant and Lewis Gun Officer were undressing in their bedroom, which faced the line, they suddenly noticed that the shutters were not drawn. A rush was made for the candle, which was hastily extinguished. At that moment there was a deafening report, and we felt that here was the reward for our carelessness. However, it was soon realized that the noise was not shelling, but the above-mentioned bombing, the hum of the aeroplane being clearly audible; but after depositing its load it departed, and peace reigned once more. No casualties were caused, and quite a number of "D" Company were sleeping so soundly that they knew nothing of the matter till the following morning.

It was always a remarkable thing to us who lived there that Crown Prince House was not shelled. It was a large house in full view of the enemy, standing quite isolated at the side of a long straight road. It must have been very tempting to the German gunners, who liked to see the red dust rise from a direct hit on a house. There was no sort of cellar accommodation worth mentioning. Signals had the only cellar, and that was but half underground. We used to encourage one another by saying that the Germans could not shell the house without committing lèse majesté (the Crown Prince was reputed once to have made his Headquarters there), though some very recent shell-holes at the entrance seemed to prove that they were prepared occasionally to risk being guilty of that serious offence. As a matter of fact, the Headquarters of a South Lancashire Battalion were soon afterwards shelled out of the house, and a very unpleasant proceeding they found it.

The only other excitement was the sudden arrival of a shell in Armentières; not by the railway-station, a place not infrequently shelled in retaliation for a 12-inch railway mounting gun which used to come up there occasionally, but right into the town, and only just over the Rue de Lille. This single shell caused quite a sensation, but as nothing more happened we concluded that the enemy had let off a gun by mistake.

On March 13th after dinner the battalion (less "D" Company) moved off to billets in the Rue Dormoire, the 2/5th South Lancashire Regiment moving in at the same moment. In spite of all precautions, the congestion of traffic was very great for a short time, but was soon straightened out. We crossed Rue Marle Level Crossing, then left-handed up the Boulevard Faidherbe, and so round to the Armentières Level Crossing. The route after that was the main road through Erquinghem, about a mile beyond which lay our new area. Headquarters was situated in a fine old seventeenth-century farmhouse, built round the usual quadrangle, with its usual vast heap of manure. Two sides were flanked by a moat which you crossed by a brick bridge, entering the farm through an archway. Opposite the entrance, and on the other side of the road, was a large open field with a duck-board track running across it, which led to two blocks of Nissen huts, occupied by "C" and "D" Companies, the latter not expected to arrive from the subsidiary line before midnight; though, owing to confusion over the transport for the Lewis gunners, this estimate proved highly optimistic. Continuing down the lane past Battalion Headquarters—and an unpleasant lane it was, full of the most appalling holes and ruts, and deep in liquid mud which concealed many a sharp stone and pitfall—you eventually arrived at a group of farms. Here "A" and "B" Companies were accommodated in large barns in which great tiers of bunks had been erected. These were promptly nicknamed the "birdcage."

Reconnoitring of emergency routes and schemes for the reinforcing of divisions in front or on the flanks again came to the fore. Though all was quiet in our neighbourhood, considerable activity was apparent at night north of the Lys opposite the Messines Ridge, where bursting shrapnel and coloured lights were eloquent of raids in progress. Working parties (of a minimum strength of a platoon) and training became once more the order of the day. Rifle-grenade practice with "Newtons" was very popular, even after Lance-Corporal Cathels and a rifleman had been injured by the bursting of the breech of a rifle.

CHAPTER IV
ARMENTIÈRES UP TO GAS ATTACK

On April 19th we received orders to reconnoitre the Boutillerie sector, held by the 2/5th King's Own Royal Lancaster Regiment, with a view to early relief; and the Commanding Officer, Adjutant, and Company Commanders proceeded the same day to Foray House, the "King's Own" Headquarters. This sector was a combination of the old Boutillerie trenches, held by us in February, and the trenches on our immediate right. There had been several British and enemy raids since then, and the damage caused had been considerable. The difficulty of maintaining 2,800 yards of front in a decent state of repair throughout its whole length had further impaired the condition of the trenches, and we were not surprised to find serious signs of decay on every hand. Our first experience, moreover, of walking quite considerable distances—i.e., several hundred yards—without finding a trace of the defenders proved very instructive, and showed us what to expect for the future. The next day (April 20th, 1917) these orders were cancelled, and we were now informed that on the 26th we were to take over the Houplines sector in front of Armentières from the Australians. We set out once more on a tour of exploration. We rode to the Australian Brigade Headquarters in the Rue Jesuit, and thence on foot along the Houplines road to Tissage Dump, where the trenches began.

Those who now saw Armentières for the first time might well be impressed by the feeling of desolation which prevailed. The silent, shuttered houses, the empty streets, the ruins and the débris were familiar from the villages which had been already visited, but nowhere hitherto had the picture been on so large a scale as here. Armentières had been a bright and busy town before the war, with a population of some 30,000 people. Large spinning factories, fine houses and handsome shops abounded. Many of the streets, it is true, still contained quite a number of inhabitants; but as you made your way down the Rue Jesuit towards the line, fewer and fewer grew the signs of any civil population, and more and more battered became the houses. It is a long walk to Tissage Dump. On the left you soon passed Barbed-Wire Square, then quite a pleasant grass-grown square with young trees just beginning to bud. In the far corner a wonderful green and blue tiled house had apparently been the residence of a lady fortune-teller. The next landmark was the level-crossing, beside which a huge church bell was suspended on a wooden frame to give warning against gas. The road a little farther on swung round first to the right, past some very dilapidated workmen's cottages of a curious blue tint; and then to the left, where stood L'Octroi d'Houplines, the familiar little wooden erection to be found on the outskirts of every French town. This had been hit by a shell; it was a corner of ill repute, and the board bearing its title hung at an acute angle, being only supported by a fastening at one end. On the left of the road, next to the factory belonging to an English firm, stood Von Kluck's house, alleged to have been once the Headquarters of that famous General, and now used as the A.D.S., which for many months escaped a direct hit, while neighbouring houses were all but obliterated. A strip of open country followed; on the left, a wilderness of ruins and marshland, with a glimpse of 18-pounders cleverly concealed; on the right, loop-holed screening with a considerable view of the country beyond.

Nouvel Houplines (often thought to be Houplines itself, which was close to the river) consisted of two main streets forming an acute angle. At the junction stood Tissage Dump, where R.E. material for the line was stored. In the adjoining houses were a pioneer workshop, an observation post, the canteen, and the regimental aid post. The trench tram line (a continuation of the ordinary tram line from Armentières) divided here, one line running up alongside Gloucester Avenue to the trenches, the other following round to Durham Castle and other dumps. Several tall factory chimneys were grouped about this spot, all used as observation posts, and rejoicing in colonial names difficult to pronounce. Most of them bore signs of shell fire, one having been pierced right through close to its base, another having a large piece taken right out of its side.

The entrance to Gloucester Avenue—or "Gloster Ave," as the signboard called it—was really very picturesque, the trench descending gradually below ground level through what had once been a garden. On either side was abundant foliage, which later became prettily covered with flowers and presented a picture that might well have been the setting for the opening scene of "The Arcadians."

We began our walk up Gloucester Avenue, noting the trench running off to Spain Avenue, another fine communication trench. The way was up a gradual incline. At the top a network of narrow trenches appeared, and through these we made our way into the subsidiary line to Battalion Headquarters, a group of "bivvies" and short trenches entered under a small overhead traverse. On the immediate left stood a small elephant back, which combined the dual functions of mess and Adjutant's office, and opposite this was the cook-house. To the left was a double concrete dug-out, where "Signals" dwelt, and up a little short trench a minute concrete "bivvy" for the Commanding Officer.

In the mess we found the Commanding Officer of the 38th Battalion A.I.F. awaiting us, and he explained that our present place of rest was the old right Battalion Headquarters, while the left was in more commodious but less conveniently situated quarters in the spacious cellars of Cambridge House, some way along the subsidiary line. Half the Australians' Headquarters lived in one place and half in the other, and, though the two were connected by telephone, the disadvantages of the separation were obvious.

The Company Commanders now proceeded to their respective areas, while the Commanding Officer and Adjutant took a general survey of the line under the guidance of the Australian Colonel. The first impression was certainly most unfavourable. The principle of gaps and localities was maintained here, and constant shell fire, combined with lack of any means of repair, gave the sector a most dilapidated and depressing appearance, which was intensified by a great superfluity of water and a number of useless and derelict trenches running in all directions. Lateral communication, too, as so often happens in a combined sector, was extremely bad. After lunch at Cambridge House, the Commanding Officer and Adjutant proceeded on a tour of the left sector. This was notoriously the weak point, the left being bounded by the River Lys, which in winter rendered an area of several hundred yards along the bank quite impassable, though in summer this same area was perfectly passable, and to a large extent undefended. From the support line an excellent view could be obtained, the ground falling steeply away from there to a flat stretch called the Cricket Field, and then sloping upwards to a raised plateau on which Frelinghien stood, and on the hither side of which was built our front line. The sector, we found, was full of notices warning you that the spot you stood on was under direct observation from the Germans, which caused you to move round the traverses with alacrity. Most of these notices, we found, were obsolete, but on the left company's front, parts of the front line were certainly exposed, and till these spots were blinded casualties occurred from snipers. Generally speaking, the line appeared fairly quiet that afternoon, only intermittent shelling of a very desultory nature occurring. To our disgust, however, we learnt that gas cylinders were installed along practically the whole length of the front line, and the absence of heavy shelling was accordingly noted with some pleasure.

The relief took place on March 26th, the Lewis gunners entering the line the previous evening, and, in addition, one signaller per station, two battalion runners, all snipers, of whom one N.C.O. and three men were to take over the observation post, and one officer and one N.C.O. per platoon. On the morning of the 26th the Sniping Officer and Sergeant, the Medical Officer's orderly, the Bombing Officer and Corporal, all Company Sergeant-Majors, the Regimental Sergeant-Major, and two runners, together with the balance of the signallers under the Signalling Officer, made their way up to the trenches. This was the usual advance party for a new sector, and the arrangement undoubtedly quickened the relief, while in addition increased knowledge of a sector was acquired from the extra length of time spent with members of the outgoing unit.

Guides were to meet the companies at Houplines Level Crossing, commencing at 7 p.m. The following were the dispositions and routes: "D" Company, right front sector viâ Spain Avenue; "C" Company, right centre viâ Gloucester Avenue; "B" Company, up Durham and Edmeads Avenue to left centre; while "A" Company went up Durham and along the subsidiary line to Irish Avenue and thence to left sector. Each company was responsible for its own supports and reserves, the latter consisting usually of a few cooks and ration carriers. Headquarters were accommodated in "bivvies" in the subsidiary line round Battalion Headquarters, and a few details at Cambridge House. The relief was completed at 11.40 p.m., and the Australians moved off for a rest and training preliminary to the Battle of Messines. They were a very cheery crowd and extremely obliging, and rendered the relief a very agreeable task. The code word was dispatched by telephone to Brigade, and we commenced our first tour in a sector that we were destined to occupy, turn and turn about with the 2/7th K.L.R., for four and a half months.

[HOUPLINES.]

As the period was such a long one, a more detailed description may be attempted than has been thought necessary in regard to other sectors held from time to time by the battalion. There were three main communication trenches leading into the line, all previously referred to. Spain and Gloucester Avenues, both starting from Tissage Dump, cut the subsidiary line on the right and right centre respectively. Durham Avenue started from Nouvel Houplines a few yards from Tissage Dump and to the north of it, and joined the subsidiary line close to Cambridge House. There was also the road from Nouvel Houplines to Frelinghien which ran past the north end of the subsidiary and support lines, but was under observation by day and unhealthy by night. On the extreme right, and just beyond our boundary, was Buterne Avenue, a deep traversed trench over which we had a right of way. It wandered about distressingly, and eventually ended in a small side street near Barbed Wire Square. Farther to the right and well on into the Epinette sector was Lunatic Lane, which eventually became an open track and led into the outskirts of Armentières by the Asylum.