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Dear all
A hundred years ago this week… the Allies
launched the “third phase” of their attack along the Somme Front – with the
British experiencing more success than in their initial onslaught, but awful
casualties continuing on all sides to achieve or suffer piecemeal gains or
losses.
First,
the French Army gained some ground between Combles and the Somme river itself
(September 12) and at L’Abbe Wood Farm (13), Le Priez Farm (15),
Vermandovillers, Berny and Deniecourt (17). A little to their north, the
British stormed German trenches at Thiepval (14), then won the Battle Of
Flers-Courcelette (15-22, near Albert) – historically notable for the first
ever deployment of tanks – joining up with the French around Combles. Advances
of up to two miles cost 29, 376 Allied casualties; the Germans did not issue
separate figures for this battle.
To
the East, Allied progress continued – some of it shortly to prove delusory – with
the Russian Army both maintaining its Brusilov Offensive advance in Ukraine
along the bank of the Zlota-Lipa (September 16) and in the Carpathians at Mount
Capel Kapul to link up with the Romanian Army… who themselves moving towards
Kronstadt in then Bulgarian Transylvania (both September 11), occupying Baraolt
in Romanian Transylvania (16). In addition, the Romanians and Russians combined
to hold back Bulgarian-German-Ottoman forces at the First Battle of Cobadin
(17-19).
Further
south, the same story for the Allies unfolded. The Italians gained ground near
Gorizia in the Seventh Battle Of The Isonzo (September 14-18, 17,000 Italian casualties,
15,000 Austro-Hungarian); and launching
the Monastir Offensive (September 12-December 11) the Serbians, French and
British all did well on different sectors of the Macedonian Front (en route to
total casualties for the campaign of 130,000 Allied troops and 61,000 Central
Powers troops).
Meanwhile, my
father Sam Sutcliffe from
Edmonton, north London, 18 on July 6, 1916, and lately
promoted to Corporal,
had returned from home leave to find his Battalion, the Kensingtons happily
resting at Millencourt-en-Ponthieu – 30-odd miles
west of Hébuterne/Gommecourt, the
sector of the Somme front-line where they’d fought from mid-May onwards. There,
on July 1, they’d suffered 59 per cent
casualties (see FootSoldierSam’s Blogs dated June 26 and July 3, 2016). For
Sam, this followed a ’15-’16 winter at Gallipoli with the 2/1st Royal Fusiliers (250 out of 1,000 survived unharmed). They’d
sailed from Egypt to France in late April, where – to their disgust – they were disbanded and transferred to
other outfits, Sam to the Kensingtons and the Somme.
FOOTSOLDIERSAM SPEAKS
Last week*, my father had a great time at
Millencourt, getting back among his front-line pals way beyond even earshot of
the battle. Together they drank a lot of cider – while, in his relaxation, Sam
reflected on his role as an NCO, the possible conflict between comradeship and
(low-level) command, and his aim of achieving discipline via understanding
rather than any kind of shouty martinetry.
Now,
as they return to the battlefield, he feels a certain (unexplained/inexplicable)
optimism about the immediate future:
‘But… leaving all that aside, I was back, my unit going into
action again before long, the many hazards and the few, simple pleasures to be
faced or enjoyed. In fact, as I went about my small duties and re-established
my position among my particular group, I viewed our prospects with a fair
amount of optimism. We had some pleasant days in that small town, with a good
spirit about among the fellows. Memories of the big battle**, the great losses,
had begun to recede into the past, the terrific tension, the fear, the sadness,
taking their proper place in the background of men’s thoughts — that is, apart
from the odd things one could do in one’s own interests, the future, as it
always had been and always would be, was outside the control of ordinary
individuals.
The day came when we were ordered to pack up everything,
while reducing to the required minimum those articles we must carry with us
into the trenches. All the usual preparations for a move kept us fully
occupied. Then off we went, marching eastwards.***
At night we
paused, making rough, temporary billets in outbuildings and barns on unoccupied
farms. Quite exhausted with the marching, where we lay mattered not too much,
provided we had some sort of cover for our heads in case it rained.
Such basics could
never be guaranteed in wartime, but the good organiser made sure his men got
the advantage of whatever was available. Slackness at the top could cause much
discomfort lower down, whereas a good Colonel with a good team of officers
around him established a reputation among the members of a Battalion which
would never be lost. The men who benefited from his thoughtfulness would
remember him always. It must have been a great reward, or sometimes a
consolation, to a high officer who, through the exigencies of battle, lost many
men for whom he had a feeling often amounting to affection.
In the next
section of the front line we manned****, no satisfactory or permanent
settlement had been achieved following the recent battle. Away to our right we
could see what we considered to be our front lines – occupied by Germans.
Meanwhile, we had annexed the former German reserve trench, as we would have
termed it; the part we held contained a number of large, deep dugouts – our
chaps must have had a tricky job clearing the Jerries out of that network. Way
ahead of this strong line lay shallower temporary trenches of the kind I’d
often been involved in digging overnight in No Man’s Land.
Of course, we now
had the use of everything the Germans had established – an unaccustomed
situation. But we soon took pleasure in being able to have a few hours
uninterrupted sleep down there in the underground shelters which, on average
days or nights, greatly muffled the sound of exploding shells. One had the
feeling that the world of violence up above was distant, really remote.
Reflecting that, in many parts of the Front, the Germans had the advantage of
this sort of facility, one wondered if we could ever effect a real break
through the enemy lines.’
* This FootSoldierSam episode, like its immediate couple of predecessors,
is a little out of the “100 years ago this week” sequencing I try to stick to (see
footnote **) – just because of the way the material spreads at different times.
Last week, in a footnote I said we’d be back on track this week. Wrong! But
next week, absodefinitely.
** That’s July 1, of
course.
*** Here my father’s
memory would seem to have missed out a train journey. The Kensingtons’ War Diary
records their travels in Picardie thus: the Battalion left Millencourt-en-Ponthieu
at 4am on September 3, 1916, took a train to Corbie (57 kilometres southeast),
then started marching westwards towards Daours (5.6 kilometres if completed) until
a messenger turned them back to Corbie and onwards due east – presumably the
march my father recalled – to Sailly-le-Sec (7.6 kilometres; yes, a different
Sailly to Sailly-au-Bois, the Kensingtons’ familiar, wrecked village 3
kilometres west of Hébuterne, their “home” on the northern Somme Front; the Red
Baron Von Richtofen was shot down between this second Sailly and
Vaux-sur-Somme, April 21 1918). They arrived during the afternoon.
**** This probably
happened on September 6. Now “lent” to the 15th Brigade, the Kensingtons moved
into the trenches near a village called Maricourt and an area known as Leuze
Wood (or “Lousy Wood” to the Tommies), held by the German Army. They relieved
the 7th Irish Fusiliers, whose CO told the Kensingtons’ Colonel Young (the
officer Army admin kindly placed in charge of the Battalion, whom he’d never
met before, on June 28, just three days before they went into the Somme front
line for the events of July 1) that a day earlier, on September 5, his Battalion
had suffered 350 casualties in a failed attack. Another source, Somme 1916 by Gerald Gliddon, details
this as an assault on Combles Trench, but reports the casualties as 251. The
Kensingtons fought in the vicinity of Combles and alongside French troops
throughout September, including involvement in what became known as the Battle
Of Morval, September 25-28 (5,000 Allied casualties).
All
the best –
FSS
Next week: Back in the
old routine: getting shot, getting educated via the occasional lecture – and
getting unprecedentedly adjacent to Battalion HQ officers (attracted by the safe
accommodations in those deep German dugouts).
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