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Dear all
A hundred years ago this week… at
bloody Verdun the German Army made costly progress, entering Malancourt village
(March 29) after being repulsed there the day before, and eventually forcing
the French Army to evacuate (31). The French recovered Avocourt Redoubt (29),
but lost part of Vaux village (April 1). To and back…
A
more active week of airship raids on Britain saw 48 killed in and around London
(31) – but Zeppelin L15 brought down by gunfire near the Thames estuary – 22
killed in the North-East (April 1), and 13 killed on Scotland’s East Coast (2).
The
Russian Army continued its encouraging spring with Eastern Front successes
against the Germans north of Bojan, Galicia (March 28), near Pinsk (30) and in
the Liakhovichi region (April 2), both Belarus. And further south, their
Trebizond Campaign (February 5-April 15) to take Armenia from the Ottomans
proceeded with the crossing of the Baltachi Darassi river (27), victory in a
battle at Kara Malachkan (31) and crossing the Upper Chorok river to take
Ottoman fortifications (2).
Meanwhile,
in Egypt, the grand development was the 1st Anzac Corps’ departure for France,
while the newly formed 2nd Anzac Corps acquired its first commander, General
Alexander Godley.
Big
stuff, but unknown to the 200-odd 2/1st City Of London
Battalion Royal
Fusiliers comrades who’d come through Gallipoli and, along with maybe 50
reinforcements, encamped for a couple of months on the banks of the
Nile and the edge of the Sahara at Beni Salama, 30 miles north-west of Cairo. My father, Lance
Corporal Signaller Sam Sutcliffe from Edmonton, north London
(still under-age at 17), his older brother Ted (19, lately converted from
foot-slogging to horse wrangling), and their mates took more or less anything
that didn’t involve getting shot at as a blessing. Speaking of which…
FOOTSOLDIERSAM SPEAKS
Last week, my father enjoyed a package from
home – his Ma’s fruitcake and a sprauncy new shirt – plus an entertaining train
journey to Cairo on a day’s leave. Now he recalls a fine – and dangerous – mess
nice, young Lieutenant Wickinson gets them into:
‘Lieutenant Wickinson liked to
have a programme of work ready for each day and, presumably because our Sergeant
was able to avoid working with us*, he occasionally asked me to go to his tent
of an evening. We would sit and discuss progress and make plans. I enjoyed this
unusual procedure, smoked his very nice cigarettes, and got to know this shy,
young officer fairly well. I needed no telling that this relaxed relationship
began as I entered his tent and ended when I left it. I can’t recall ever
having discussed it with my mates and was probably more punctilious than they
in behaving correctly when on parade.
My
heart almost bled for the young Lieutenant on one occasion when we had set up a
chain of signal stations at half-mile intervals.
Suddenly,
gunfire broke the silence and shells shrieked overhead. Fear did things to my
stomach. I had by now achieved freedom from the day-and-night tension one
endured in Gallipoli, and this sudden artillery outburst shocked me and
temporarily I thought war had spread to this part of Egypt.
Then,
as the explosions and shell-shrieks ceased, I saw a party of mounted officers
heading towards us. Closer view of them revealed that several of them wore red
bands round their caps and bits of red on epaulettes and tunic collars. A
grey-moustached, red-faced senior officer yelled “Who’s in charge here?” and,
as our Lieutenant stepped forward, the old boy yelled at him, “You bloody young
fool, you’ve placed your men in line across an artillery range. You are
endangering their lives and interfering with our Brigade training. I am Major
General [So-And-So] and I’ll have you disciplined for this. Now clear off and
take all your men with you.”
Still,
for the most part, our training went rather better than that. Our energetic
Colonel quite rightly said we must be terribly out of touch with shooting. I
think I can say that we all thoroughly approved of arrangements made for our
firing practice.
The
desert was anything but flat, and the range comprised a fairly extensive
hillside dotted with clearly numbered, empty, petrol cans. The instructors
allotted each man a can. We followed load and fire orders which varied from
taking careful, single shots to ten rounds rapid fire. Using then-new Mark VII
ammo and the short rifle, I didn’t suffer so much from the kick as I had done
with the old, long rifle**. At conclusion, we each handed in our empty cartridge
cases, plus the remaining live ammunition and the total had to be equal to the
number of bullets first issued.
It
was good sport, for who wouldn’t enjoy taking pot shots at a petrol can, even
with stones, let alone a powerful rifle. We ended with a walk out to our cans
to count the holes in them. Results were pretty good.’
*
Because he spent most of his days at work on his oil paintings - don’t ask… but
see Blog 88 March 13, 2016.
**
Lee-Enfield
supplied the main British Army rifle 1895-1926; bolt-action, ten .303 rounds in
the magazine, loaded either a round at a time or in 5-round “chargers”; the First
World War model was the SMLE MK III, price £3 15/-, introduced in 1907 along
with the Pattern 1907 sword bayonet; however, training in Malta February-August,
1915, my father’s Battalion had been issued with the older, “long” version
(30.2-inch barrel compared to 21.2-inch); redesigns simplified the Mk III
during the war, for ease of manufacture more than usage, apparently;
Lee-Enfield took its name from the designer of the bolt-action system, James
Paris Lee, and the Royal Small Arms Factory in Enfield – adjacent to the district
where my father grew up, Edmonton, North London.
All
the best –
FSS
Next week: Sam’s
Fusiliers suffer torture by Welsh male voice choir, train like hell to persuade
the powers-that-be to let the Gallipoli-bonded band stay together as a
Battalion – and enjoy a desert day at the races...
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