Steady The Buffs!: A Regiment, a Region, and the Great War

STEADY THE BUFFS!

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Steady the Buffs! A Regiment, a Region, and the Great War MARK CONNELLY

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1 Great Clarendon Street, Oxford OX2 6DP Oxford University Press is a department of the University of Oxford. It furthers the University’s objective of excellence in research, scholarship, and education by publishing worldwide in Oxford New York Auckland Cape Town Dar es Salaam Hong Kong Karachi Kuala Lumpur Madrid Melbourne Mexico City Nairobi New Delhi Shanghai Taipei Toronto With offices in Argentina Austria Brazil Chile Czech Republic France Greece Guatemala Hungary Italy Japan Poland Portugal Singapore South Korea Switzerland Thailand Turkey Ukraine Vietnam Oxford is a registered trade mark of Oxford University Press in the UK and in certain other countries Published in the United States by Oxford University Press Inc., New York © Mark Connelly 2006 The moral rights of the author have been asserted Database right Oxford University Press (maker) First published 2006 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of Oxford University Press, or as expressly permitted by law, or under terms agreed with the appropriate reprographics rights organization. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside the scope of the above should be sent to the Rights Department, Oxford University Press, at the address above You must not circulate this book in any other binding or cover and you must impose the same condition on any acquirer British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data Data available Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data Data available Typeset by Newgen Imaging Systems (P) Ltd., Chennai, India Printed in Great Britain on acid-free paper by Biddles Ltd., King’s Lynn, Norfolk ISBN 0–19–927860–1

978–0–19–927860–2

1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

Veteri frondescit honore

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Preface I arrived at the University of Kent in September 1999, but my knowledge of the geography, history, nature, and culture of the county was sketchy to the say the least, despite the fact that I was born in London and had spent most of my life in the south-east of England. Having settled in Canterbury, in the east of the county, and explained my work and research interests to many local people unconnected with the university, I became aware of a magical term: ‘The Buffs’. Any mention of the Buffs in East Kent, especially among those older than thirty or forty, is enough to spark pride, interest, and attention. This reaction made a significant impression on me, and I came to spot the pervasiveness of the regiment in contemporary East Kent. The county cricket team and its Canterbury ground, are intimately linked to the regiment; a local removals company has used buff as the colour of its vans for many years; the former East Kent Bus Company ran buffcoloured buses; on Remembrance Day the regiment’s Old Comrades Association plays a prominent role in the Canterbury parade; the village I now live in has a street named after a former commanding officer, and the majority of those commemorated on the village war memorial fell while serving in the Buffs. This led me to begin searches for books about the Buffs, and the regiment’s role in the Great War. Aside from the history written by one of its former officers, R. S. H. Moody, and a few other, relatively slim, volumes, I found very little. My curiosity grew as the regiment was an antique one with a proud record, which implied that its involvement in the Great War would have attracted attention and discussion. Why did its battalions have such a low profile in the historiography of the Great War? Some former Buffs officers I spoke to provided a typically proud and forthright answer. All stated unequivocally that it was because of the regimental culture. They emphasised that the Buffs were never a flashy bunch, and regarded such things as medal counts as rather vulgar: a regiment had its duty, did it, and did not expect anyone to get that excited about it. Just about the only exception was the hallowed memory of Lieutenant Latham, who, during the Peninsula Campaign, maintained a firm grip on the regimental colours despite losing an arm to a French cavalryman’s sword blow, an action that was subsequently immortalised in a grand piece of triumphal silverware. Otherwise, so they reminded me, the Buffs shunned publicity and simply got on with jobs as ordered. It was the final spur—I decided to begin research! I would like to express my gratitude to all the historians, archivists, and librarians who provided help during the course of the research. As material for the study was gathered from a wide range of sources, the project relied on the assistance of many people. I would like to start by thanking the British Academy for providing a grant that not only allowed me to visit many archives, but also the

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opportunity to visit key sites in France and Belgium. These three trips were extremely important and ensured a whole new perspective. Great thanks are also extended to Professor David French for kindly agreeing to act as referee for my application. I would like to thank Dr Peter Boyden, Simon Moody, and Andy Robertshaw at the National Army Museum for their expert assistance and advice on the excellent Buffs Regimental Collection now housed in the museum’s Chelsea premises. This invaluable treasure trove contained private documents and official papers which, for a variety of reasons, are not available in the records at the National Archives, Kew. Other primary documentary material was found at the National Archives, Kew, and much other useful material was found at the Imperial War Museum, in Canterbury Library, and in the Princess of Wales Own Royal Regiment headquarters, Howe Barracks, Canterbury (particular thanks to Major Dennis Bradley and Major John Rogerson), and the Templeman Library at the University of Kent. BBC Radio Kent and Kent on Sunday also assisted by carrying my appeal for information from relatives of those who served. The people of Kent responded in an enthusiastic manner providing personal histories, anecdotes, details, and documents. I would also like to thank Professor Gary Sheffield and his colleagues for allowing me to present a paper at the Defence Studies Department, Joint Services Command Staff College, Shrivenham, and Dr John Bourne, who made helpful comments at an early planning stage and on draft chapters. My postgraduate students, colleagues, and friends were supportive; all were prepared to listen to my ideas on the subject and respond with useful criticisms. Particular thanks go to Major Gordon Corrigan, Dr Stephen Badsey, Professor David Welch, Dr Mark Glancy, Dr Roger Law (for invaluable help with the establishment of a database), Ed Rendell (for putting me up and numerous bottles of Margaux), and David Blanchard. Colonel John White of the Buffs also provided much interesting detail about the spirit and feeling of the regiment. Fellow members of the Western Front Association were, as ever, a very good bunch—thanks to Charles Fair, Hazel Basford, Major Tony and Linda Swift, and the East Kent branch. Huge thanks are due to Mick Mills, a fellow Buffs enthusiast, who supported the project at every stage, freely contributed his ideas and knowledge, and remained good humoured even when I used all the hot water after a freezing day on the Somme. Dr Gareth Smith was also an enormous help designing and creating the maps with great patience, skill, and enthusiasm. The team at OUP were also extremely helpful and encouraged the project along from the start. Finally, I would like to thank my wife, Jacqui, and our families for being such stalwart allies of the work. M. L. C. October 2005

Contents List of Tables List of Maps List of Illustrations List of Conventions and Abbreviations

x xi xii xiii

Introduction

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1. Officers and Men

7

2. Shock, 1914

40

3. Adjusting to the Western Front: January 1915–Spring 1916

57

4. Raiding, 1915–1918: Learning on the Job or Unnecessary Attrition?

77

5. Learning: The Buffs on the Somme

93

6. Applying: 1917

130

7. Defending: January–April 1918

162

8. Winning: July–November 1918

183

9. Remembering

213

Conclusion

229

Appendices: 1a: Places of birth, residence, and enlistment, 1914 1b: Places of birth, residence, and enlistment, 1918 1c: Buffs soldiers condemned to death, 1914–19 2a: Buffs raids 2b: Overall casualties incurred by the Buffs during raids 3a: Table: Buffs actions, 1914–15 3b: Table: Buffs on the Somme, 1916 3c: Table: Buffs actions, 1917 3d: Table: Buffs in the ‘100 Days’, 1918

241 241 243 245 246 251 253 254 255 256

Bibliography Buffs Index General Index

257 263 265

Tables 1. Days in Action by Year, OR Battle Fatalities, Total OR Fatalities by Year (per battalion) 2. Officer Casualties by Battalion and Year

234 239

Maps 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24.

Radinghem Chateau, 18 October 1914, 1st Buffs Hooge, 9 August 1915, 1st Buffs Loos, 26 September 1915, 8th Buffs Loos, Quarries, 13 October 1915, 6th Buffs Montauban, 1 July 1916, 7th Buffs Ovillers, 3 July 1916, 6th Buffs Ration Trench, 3 August 1916, 6th Buffs ZZ Trench, Guillemont, 18 August 1916, 8th Buffs Tea Trench, Delville Wood, 3 September 1916, 8th Buffs Quadrilateral, Ginchy, 15 September 1916, 1st Buffs Lesboeufs and Morval, 25 September 1916, 1st Buffs Gueudecourt, 7 October 1916, 6th Buffs Desiré Trench, 18 November 1916, 7th Buffs Houlette Work, Arras, 9 April 1917, 6th Buffs Chérisy, 3 May 1917, 7th Buffs Pelves, 3 May 1917, 6th Buffs Ypres, Spoilbank, 14 June 1917, 8th Buffs Poelcapelle, 12 October 1917, 7th Buffs Cambrai, 20 November 1917, 1st and 6th Buffs Noreuil–Lagnicourt, 21 March 1918, 1st Buffs Maurepas, 27–9 August 1918, 6th Buffs Sailly-Saillisel, 1 September 1918, 7th Buffs Quadrilateral, Fresnoy, 18 September 1918, 1st Buffs Battle of Épehy, 18–30 September 1918, 6th and 7th Buffs

48 63 67 68 100 102 105 107 108 113 117 121 123 135 137 139 142 150 154 169 190 191 195 198

Illustrations 1. Men of 1st Buffs parading for the trenches, winter 1914–1915. Photograph taken by Lieutenant M. Asprey probably in Armentières. (Buffs Collection, National Army Museum) 2. Signalling platoon of 7 Buffs. No date, but probably taken soon after the 18 Division’s arrival in France, summer 1915. (Buffs Collection, National Army Museum) 3. Men of 1st Buffs on breastwork parapets, winter 1914–1915, near Armentières. Photograph taken by Lieutenant M. Asprey. (Buffs Collection, National Army Museum) 4. Officers of the 7 Buffs. No date, but probably taken in England before embarkation to France. (Buffs Collection, National Army Museum) 5. An officer of 1st Buffs, taken by Lieutenant M. Asprey, winter 1914–1915 near Armentières. Note the fact that men seem to be moving along the parapet without fear of enemy retaliation. (See also illustration 3) (Buffs Collection, National Army Museum) 6. Buffs Past and Present Association and ex-servicemen’s parade, barrack square, Canterbury. No date, c.1929. (Photograph kindly supplied by Mrs Mattocks, whose father served with the Buffs throughout the Great War) 7. 6 Buffs Reunion Dinner. No date, c.1960. (Photograph kindly supplied by Mrs Mattocks)

Conventions and Abbreviations The standard forms of reference to numbered/named military units made in the text of this study are as follows: Battalions of regiments—1st Buffs, 6th Buffs etc. Infantry Brigades—37 IB Divisions—12 Division Corps—III Corps Armies—Fourth Army Abbreviations of frequently mentioned regiments: Beds Bedfordshire Regiment DLI Durham Light Infantry E. Surrey East Surrey Regiment KSLI King’s Shropshire Light Infantry Leics Leicestershire Regiment Northants Northamptonshire Regiment N. Staffs North Staffordshire Regiment Queen’s Queen’s (Royal West Surrey Regiment) Rifle Bde Rifle Brigade Berks Royal Berkshire Regiment R. Fusiliers Royal Fusiliers R. Sussex Royal Sussex Regiment RWK Royal West Kent Regiment S. Foresters Sherwood Foresters (Nottinghamshire and Derbyshire Regiment) W. Yorks West Yorkshire Regiment York and Lancs York and Lancaster Regiment All other regiments will be given in full. In notes all war diaries will be referred to as WD. All documents taken from the National Archives, Kew will be prefaced by their series letters; for example, War Office files are quoted with the prefix WO. All material taken from the National Army Museum will be prefaced NAM. IWM will precede material from the Imperial War Museum. For a full list of sources see the Bibliography.

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Introduction No pen can adequately convey the true measure of the constancy and valour of those men who endured and fought through the daily hardships, the hourly perils, the nerve strain during darkness—and this under conditions of modern warfare, in battles which lasted not hours but weeks, with the added horrors of high explosives, gas poisoning, flame throwers, tanks and machine guns, delay-action mines and other mechanical and inhuman devices. Through all of these trials the spirit of the regiment—of the Men of Kent— never faltered, its certain hope of victory never wavered . . . in spite of the great increase of all the new dangers and perils, there was no change in the spirit, no weakening in the sense of duty which have always animated the Buffs; new and old battalions alike maintained, and more than maintained the glory of the name handed down to them. Foreword by Arthur Paget, Colonel of the Buffs, to R. S. H. Moody, Historical Records of the Buffs, East Kent Regiment, 1914–1919 (1922)

This study seeks to understand how four battalions from the East Kent Regiment, ‘The Buffs’, dealt with the experience of warfare on the Western Front, the role they played in the British Expeditionary Force’s (BEF) victory, and what the men of those battalions meant to East Kent. Over the past twenty years or so the performance of the BEF in the Great War has received a great deal of attention. Reacting to the idea that British and imperial troops were little more than ‘lions led by donkeys’, historians have sought to gain a more sophisticated insight. In a terrific outpouring of scholarship military historians have set out to re-examine the war, particularly the struggle on the Western Front. The early work from this new revisionist school often took a broad perspective, attempting to place the BEF in its correct military, social, and cultural contexts. This particular angle can be seen in such studies as the pioneering Shelford Bidwell and Dominick Graham’s, Fire-Power (1982), and through Tim Travers’ The Killing Ground (1987), and How the War was Won (1992).¹ These approaches then spawned a fresh wave of scholarship on command and the higher-level management processes of the BEF. A fascinating reassessment of Haig, his army, corps, and divisional commanders is now in progress, which has led to some notable historiographical developments. Instead of seeing the BEF as a ramshackle organisation dominated by unthinking, doltish, aristocratic officers, the historiographical position currently dominating the military history of the Great War demands that we examine the British effort according to its gradual

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Introduction

progression along a ‘learning curve’. John Bourne, Gary Sheffield, Peter Simkins, and others, have contributed a great deal to our understanding of the conflict by pursuing this approach.² By placing emphasis on the fact that both Regular Army and New Army officers and men had much to learn from the conditions created by modern weapons, that Britain was unprepared for a long war of mass mobilisation, that coalition warfare created distinct problems, and that military technology advanced, but often at an erratic rate, they have highlighted the pressures on the BEF, and how it came to terms with them before ending the war as a highly efficient and modern weapon of war, the cutting edge of the allied advance to victory. There have, of course, been critics of this thesis. For example, Robin Prior and Trevor Wilson have recently questioned whether any kind of consistency of approach, good or bad, can be seen in British generalship during 1916 in their book, The Somme (2005).³ However, the thesis is generally held to be a useful way of studying and gauging the progression of the BEF in the Great War. As well as examinations of the style and nature of higher command levels, historians have also turned their attention to the many, seemingly smaller, factors that influenced the flow of events on the battlefield. Training, tactics, equipment, and the relationship between officers and men have been explored in a series of significant works which have provided detail and nuance to the ‘learning curve’ thesis. Again, there have been critics of this approach, but few would go as far as John Keegan, who has condemned all such investigations as ‘a pointless waste’.⁴ This work aims to link, and test, the various aspects of the current historiography sketched out above by presenting a comprehensive analysis of four particular battalions of the East Kent Regiment, tracing their relationship with their immediate host society of East Kent, their social complexion in terms of both officers and men, their combat effectiveness, how this effectiveness changed during the course of the conflict, and finally, how the battalions, and those connected with them, remembered the war. In fulfilling these tasks, the study will help to fill a gap in the current revisionist literature. The gap has been created by the fact that much of the scholarship falls into two categories, which can be labelled macro and micro perspectives.⁵ The first category, such as Gary Sheffield’s Forgotten Victory (2001), deals with the higher levels of command concerning itself with armies, corps, divisions, and, occasionally brigades. In these studies the names of individual regiments or battalions may be mentioned, but the main aim of the piece is not to examine the war from a detailed perspective so much as to draw attention to the broader developments and underlying themes. Works in the second category are much more concerned with battalions, brigades, and divisions, their weapons, tactics, and personnel, but the usual method is to draw evidence from a broad range of units. For example, Paddy Griffith’s Battle Tactics of the Western Front (1994), a book very much about the war at the cutting edge, refers to fifty-five individual divisions, seven infantry brigades, and ten infantry battalions.⁶ In a similar vein, Gary Sheffield and Dan Todman’s Command and Control on the Western Front (2004), a collection of essays from various military historians,

Introduction

3

makes reference to forty divisions, sixty-six infantry brigades, and twenty-six different infantry battalions.⁷ As noted, these studies are highly valuable, and have been used to inform and illuminate my research, but they have a slightly different aim and intention to this work. The objective of my research is to examine these two perspectives through the battalions of one regiment, and by using this methodology to seek to address a number of significant issues. The nature of command will be assessed, and by looking at the role of the Buffs it will be possible to illuminate the way the BEF’s higher command structures shaped the experiences of those in the front line. The BEF has often been criticised for its rather contradictory and confusing command structure, which was, according to this particular position, by turns and often at one and the same moment, an ironic mixture of the overly prescriptive, and vagueness, compacted by ignorance of the reality on the ground. At the same time, and from the opposite perspective, this investigation will seek to identify the nature and role of the Buffs’ battalion commanders, and whether they had any real possibility of directing an action in a meaningful, lasting, and potentially decisive way. Intimately connected with this point is the extent to which the BEF experienced either a tactical evolution or revolution. The study will ascertain whether tactical development was a top-down or bottom-up process. It will investigate the extent to which the higher command coordinated, led, and dictated the pace of change, and the freedom of initiative, innovation, and manoeuvre left to individual battalion commanders. This will then determine whether these developments actually helped to make the Buffs into more efficient units capable of defeating the Germans in 1918. Another area of great debate among military historians is the extent to which the BEF utilised effectively the technological and industrial innovations of the war. As with much of the writing enquiring into this particular aspect, it is often from a broad and relatively elevated perspective looking at the decisions and attitudes of GHQ and generals. This investigation will attempt to break the subject into two— the technologies and weapons the Buffs owned, deployed and used themselves, such as Lewis guns, light mortars, and rifle grenades, and those weapons systems they had to work in co-operation with, such as the artillery, tanks and aircraft. Of particular significance in this area is the relationship between the artillery and infantry. As a conflict largely dominated by the big guns, military historians of the Great War have tended to foreground analyses of the artillery. Partly inspired by the ‘worm’s eye’ view taken by Paddy Griffith and others, this study will assess this topic from the perspective of the Buffs’ soldiers, and explore how their role fitted in with, and was influenced by, the actions and development of the artillery. It is also important to identify whether the high casualties and nature of combat forced the BEF through a social and cultural evolution or revolution in terms of the backgrounds of its officers and men. In 1914 the Buffs were strictly delineated by class, rank, and age. The officers came from the upper and upper-middle classes, whereas the non-commissioned officers (NCOs) and other ranks (OR) were of the lower-middle class, and the working classes. The extent to which the

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Introduction

demands of war, and its high casualty rates, forced any changes to this original structure will be determined. Finally, and strongly linked to this point, is an examination of the battalions’ relationship with their parent community of East Kent. The demographic variations imposed on the battalions by the circumstances of war were factors people in East Kent had to accept, and which then forced them to consider closely the concept of ‘their boys’ in the trenches. Through the adoption of this methodology and agenda, a historiographical experiment can be conducted via the introduction of a consistent point of reference—the use of four battalions. This concentration on four (fixed) battalions from one regiment involving the concomitant study of four (fixed) brigades and four (fixed) divisions across four years of fighting on the Western Front provides a rigorous test of the two historiographical perspectives, and is less susceptible to the suggestion that the study has ignored either the best or worst practices or examples to support its overall conclusions. The East Kent Regiment was chosen for a number of reasons. First, although an ancient unit with a long, proud history as the Third of Foot, the Buffs was certainly not a fashionable regiment, and is therefore a good example of the general nature and quality of the British army.⁸ Second, this examination will help to redress the current imbalance in studies of particular regiments or battalions which, although very useful in their own right, often tend to concentrate on ‘glamorous’ units that bequeathed a large, published corpus of papers, or have inspired the popular imagination, such as the ‘Pals’ battalions. These studies have helped stimulate the effect known as ‘the war according to the 2nd Royal Welch Fusiliers’ among military historians, due to the highly influential memoirs of Robert Graves, Siegfried Sassoon, and Frank Richards. Third, the regiment looked both towards the heavily populated, urban, regions of the Medway and south-east London, as well as the rural, agricultural, and pastoral regions of East Kent, and thus drew in a fair cross-section of society. Fourth, the four battalions selected, 1st, 6th, 7th, and 8th Buffs, provide the opportunity to contrast performance across Regular and New Army units, and in the process offer a representative overview of the BEF’s wartime complexion and capabilities. The Regular battalion, the 1st Buffs, served in the Regular 16 Infantry Brigade, in the Regular 6 Division; the first of the New Army units, the 6th Buffs, was part of the 37 Infantry Brigade in the 12 (Eastern) Division; the 7th Buffs was in the 55 Infantry Brigade of the 18 (Eastern) Division, and both were part of Kitchener’s First and Second New Armies; the 8th Buffs formed part of the Third New Army, and spent most of the war in the 17 Regular Infantry Brigade, a unit that was transferred to the 24 Division in order to provide it with a leavening of experience and leadership.⁹ The selected Buffs battalions can, therefore, be defined as typical units, and be deployed as a prism through which to look at the main issues concerning the performance of the BEF in the Great War. Researching these battalions proved a fascinating challenge, and it certainly engaged the heart as well as the head. It is impossible not to be moved by the last

Introduction

5

diary entry of a man killed the next day, or a letter of condolence to a grieving mother. Equally, it is very hard not to admire the intense bravery and resilience of men who clambered out of trenches to attack a determined and resourceful enemy. Although the emotions stirred by the research have not been allowed to colour the judgements, this book is, nonetheless, in part a memorial to those men as well as an academic investigation. Steady the Buffs!

NOTES 1. Shelford Bidwell and Dominick Graham, Fire-Power: British Army Weapons and Theories of War, 1904–1945 (London: George Allen and Unwin, 1982); Tim Travers, The Killing Ground: The British Army, the Western Front and the Emergence of Modern Warfare (London: Unwin, Hyman, 1987); Tim Travers, How the War was Won: Command and Technology in the British Army on the Western Front, 1917–1918 (London: Routledge, 1992). 2. J. M. Bourne, Britain and the Great War (London: Edward Arnold, 1989); Gary Sheffield, Forgotten Victory: The First World War, Myths and Realities (London: Headline, 2001); Peter Simkins, Kitchener’s Army: The Raising of the New Armies, 1914–1916 (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1988). 3. Robin Prior and Trevor Wilson, The Somme (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 2005). 4. John Keegan, The First World War (London: Hutchinson, 1998), 315. 5. However, it should be remembered that individual military historians often work on both perspectives, and offer different levels of analysis in different works. 6. Paddy Griffith, Battle Tactics of the Western Front: The British Army’s Art of Attack, 1916–1918 (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1994). 7. Gary Sheffield and Dan Todman (eds.), Command and Control on the Western Front: The British Army’s Experience 1914–18 (Staplehurst: Spellmount, 2004). 8. Any wider public awareness of the Buffs is probably because of the phrase, ‘Steady the Buffs!’. The precise derivation of this famous phrase is uncertain, but it seems to have originated in the nineteenth century, and was then given greater fame when Kipling quoted it in Soldiers Three (1881). See www.digiserve.com/peter/buffs/stbuffs.htm (accessed 22 June 2005). The profile of the Buffs in British popular culture was also revealed in Noël Coward’s 1939 play, This Happy Breed. Born in south London, and later a resident of Kent, Coward was clearly aware of the significance of the Buffs in his community, and its rivalries with other local regiments, for he made the leading character of the play a Buffs ex-serviceman who was very proud of his old regiment, and his next-door neighbour a former member of the East Surrey: Frank: Don’t you remember me—Frank Gibbons, the Buffs, B. Company, Festubert 1915? . . . . . Frank (sternly): Don’t interrupt. My old regiment’s the finest in the world— Bob: Next to the East Surreys it is. Frank: Here’s to the Buffs! (He drinks)

6

Introduction Bob: Here’s to the East Surreys! Frank (affectionately): The East Surreys is the finest regiment in the world too— Bob: That’s right. Frank (drinking): Here’s to the East Surreys! Bob (drinking): Here’s to the Buffs! . . . . . Bob: All right—I can take a hint. Good-night, Mrs G. Good-night, Sergeant. It’s been a pleasure. (To Frank) Steady the Buffs! All of the above dialogue was used in the film version (1944), and in addition, the scene centred on the 1919 Victory March shows soldiers wearing the Buffs cap badge marching past the Cenotaph. (Raymond Mander and Joe Mitchenson, Noël Coward, Plays: Four (London: Eyre Methuen, 1979), 261, 326, 333.)

9. The nature of these units will be explored more fully in the next chapter. The decision to concentrate on these units for the reasons given above has meant the exclusion of the Territorial battalions. The Buffs first and second line Territorial battalions had a mixed war record. The 4th Buffs took part in operations in Aden, but was then transferred to India, while the 5th Buffs formed part of the Mesopotamian Expeditionary Force. The second line battalions remained in Britain throughout the war. See Mark Connelly, ‘The British Campaign in Aden, 1914–1918’, University of Birmingham, Centre for First World War Studies, Journal of First World War Studies, Vol. 1, No. 3, 2005, http://www.js-ww1.bham.ac.uk/index.asp and R. S. H. Moody, Historical Records of the Buffs, East Kent Regiment, 1914–1919 (London: Medici Press,1922) for further details.

1 Officers and Men It is often remarked that the combat effectiveness of a battalion is intrinsically linked to its internal cohesion.¹ Officers and men must be able to work together effectively in order to carry out orders and react to unforeseen circumstances or situations. Mutual trust, the willingness to carry out dangerous tasks, and the application of the knowledge and skills needed to carry out these tasks are vital. Cohesion can be created through efficient training systems and the identification and appointment of competent commanders starting with the lieutenant-colonel and then moving downwards to the most junior lance-corporal. The essential element of teamwork can also be created by a stress on regimental and battalion history and traditions binding men to a sense of a shared past emphasising that it is the task of the contemporary unit to enhance this proud inheritance. Other affinities can also assist in the creation of a mutually supporting unit: a shared regional background, or similar economic, social or cultural identities. Finally, the process of knitting men together is greatly assisted by time and habit. As soldiers carry out similar routines and procedures on a daily basis and become used to the culture of the army, a sense of homogeneity and integrity is created. During the course of the Great War the East Kent Regiment, along with the entire British army, faced the huge task of trying to maintain internal cohesion in the most difficult circumstances. The flood of volunteers, later supplemented with conscripts, mostly lacked any type of military experience; they had to be moulded rapidly into efficient fighting units and made to understand and respect the ways of the army. However, as Gary Sheffield has pointed out, the army was pragmatic enough to realise that it also had to change and modify its approach in order to maintain general harmony and effectiveness in a time of such unprecedented emergency.² In addition, heavy casualties meant that battalions were rebuilt, sometimes almost from scratch, several times over. The medal rolls reveal that some 35,000 men passed through the Buffs during the course of the war. In these circumstances the task of re-establishing an identity both survivors and fresh drafts could accept and rally round was a challenging one. Understanding how the regiment reacted to these conditions is therefore vital to an overall analysis of its performance during the Great War. Throughout the conflict the essential building blocks of the expanded regiment remained the pre-war Regular Army 1st and 2nd battalions: all the battalions raised

8

Officers and Men

by the Buffs retained a cadre, even if minute, of professional officers and NCOs. A brief survey of the pre-1914 regiment is therefore necessary. The spirit and mentality that infused these long-service professionals can be detected most strongly in the pages of the regimental magazine, The Dragon. Published since the 1880s and a significant part of the regiment’s life, its issues support the conclusions others have reached on the nature of the pre-war British army—it had a genuine family feeling greatly enhanced by its small size.³ Officers, NCOs, and men made the regiment and battalion their home and way of life, and the regiment’s traditions were crucial elements in their daily lives. The Dragon frequently repeated the highlights of the regiment’s history creating a pointed and continuous reminder of its origins and proud past as one of the oldest units in the British army. Sons followed fathers into the regiment, many were born in East Kent, particularly among the NCOs and OR, and on completing service they often returned to East Kent, and the area around the depot city of Canterbury in particular. The Kesby family provides a good example. Three generations followed each other into the ranks of the Buffs. Four members served in the war, and a fifth served in the Royal West Kent Regiment. One was promoted from Regimental Sergeant Major (RSM) to Second Lieutenant, and two brothers were killed within a fortnight of each other while serving with the 1st Buffs on the Somme in September 1916. The average length of time each member of the family served with the regiment was twenty-three years.⁴ Officers had similarly tight connections. Colonel Buttanshaw’s son followed him into the regiment, as did Colonel Bayard’s; Majors A. J. H. and H. J. H. Trueman followed their father into the Buffs, A. J. H. becoming commander of the 8th battalion.⁵ Examining the addresses of some of the higher-ranking officers makes it clear that many maintained fairly grand houses in the Canterbury area even though they often served abroad and had not actually been born in the district. Such evidence reveals that at least part of Cardwell’s and Haldane’s army reforms had reached maturity: the army was imbedded in the community even though it tended to draw from a fairly small, and self-perpetuating, clique.⁶ As will be made clear in the next chapter, pre-war soldiering for the Buffs concentrated on sharpening rifle and bayonet skills and adapting training to the lessons learnt in the South African War. Around these demands officers and men appear to have indulged in sport to an almost obsessive level. The regimental magazine records a myriad of athletics meetings, horse shows, cross-country runs, and team sports such as football and cricket. These pursuits served both to emphasise rank distinctions, and, in seeming contradiction, reinforce a sense of teamwork and family spirit. The most obvious reinforcement of rank was the pursuit of equestrian sport. Although provided with army mounts, many officers kept additional horses and rode with local hunts. The maintenance of these horses was an expensive business and it therefore excluded most of the OR. Major McDouall was the 1st Buffs’ most enthusiastic horseman and even wrote a book about his horses after the war. He dedicated it to the subalterns of the Buffs and encouraged them to recognise the value of equestrianism.⁷ Other pursuits were equally

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9

beyond the means of most ranks. Major Eaton enjoyed regular salmon fishing trips in Norway, and the officers’ golfing society was certainly an exclusive set.⁸ However, sport also served to unify. Officers and men revelled in battalion successes, as is revealed in the detail with which the Dragon fulsomely recorded every victory. In certain activities the ranks may even have competed on an equal basis. Photographs in the Dragon show officers and men in the same football and boxing teams, although officers may well have served in a coaching role rather than through direct participation.⁹ The evidence suggests that in 1914 the men of the 1st Buffs formed a tight-knit unit sharing a deep-rooted sense of regimental history, an enthusiastic embrace of personal physical fitness and games, and a feeling for East Kent and Canterbury no matter where they might be stationed in the British Empire. On the outbreak of war the regiment commenced immediately to replicate this feeling in the new, service-only battalions. Captain B. E. Furley, Lieutenant T. Wheler and Second Lieutenant E. H. Allen were all despatched from Fermoy, home of the 1st Buffs in 1914, to Canterbury on 7 August in order to oversee the raising of new units.¹⁰ Furley, Wheler, and Allen were then re-directed with about one hundred men to Colchester. On arrival they joined Major Eaton who had overseen the mobilisation of the 3rd battalion in Canterbury and its subsequent move to Dover where it took up coastal defence duty and prepared to provide drafts for the 1st Buffs. Eaton was promoted to commander of the newly designated 6th Buffs, and was soon supplemented by Lieutenant D. K. Anderson, a 2nd battalion officer who was home on leave from India, and two former Buffs, Major C. P. Lloyd, who took the post of second-in-command, and Second Lieutenant Hugh Brodie. A stiffening of Buffs regulars also appears to have arrived, and Eaton later recalled that he was grateful for the services of Company Sergeant Major (CSM) Glover and two former Buffs who were specifically contacted, ex-Colour Sergeant Linwood and ex-Quartermaster Sergeant Scragg.¹¹ By mid-September the battalion was well over strength, and so the decision was taken to form a second service unit. Furley and Allen therefore moved on to Purfleet, and began work on constructing a new battalion. A variety of former Buffs came and went over the coming months including Major A. F. Campbell Johnson, who acted as second-in-command and ‘did good work as regards instilling the ancient regimental spirit into new soldiers’ minds’ before he was replaced with another former Buffs officer, Major C. Parmiter.¹² Twenty-one former Buffs NCOs were also invited to join the unit with a collective service amounting to 550 years.¹³ The new battalion numbered 1,600 almost immediately and so a third unit was formed. The surplus men were sent to Shoreham and joined by a draft of 500 from Canterbury accompanied by RSM Barton and four regular NCOs, creating the 8th battalion. Reflecting the need for experience and leadership Barton was commissioned soon after.¹⁴ Thus, by early October the Buffs had created three service battalions, each lined with a core of former and current Buffs. This achievement, however, requires close consideration for it reveals a complex recruiting pattern.

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Recruiting in Kent followed its own distinct path in the autumn of 1914. Volunteers did come forward, but their decisions were very much dependent on local conditions and there was some debate as to whether Kent was ‘doing its bit’. As Peter Simkins and others have pointed out, the south of England did not produce as many recruits as the north and Scotland. In January 1915 the Parliamentary Recruiting Committee confirmed that southern Scotland produced 237 recruits for every 10,000 people resident in the region, whereas the eastern counties of England had provided only eighty. Southern recruitment figures were somewhat counterbalanced by the vast metropolis of London and its ever increasing grasp on the Home Counties which produced 170 per 10,000 residents.¹⁵ Like most of the Home Counties, Kent’s proximity to London had created distinct patterns in its economic and social structure by 1914. The northern half of the county including the industrialised zone hugging the Medway estuary looked to London, but the southern half was overwhelmingly agricultural and pastoral. This distinct diversity was given a further twist by geography: Kent’s position made it England’s ‘front line county’, and the events of 1914 served to resurrect the feelings of vulnerability experienced during the Napoleonic wars.¹⁶ Thus a complex set of factors combined in August 1914. The north of the county mirrored London reactions to the outbreak of war, while in the agricultural districts there was a desire to get the harvest gathered and maintain ‘business as usual’, counter-balanced by the very real fear of invasion which created complicated recruitment patterns. In the north of the county men joined the regiment at a quicker rate than those in the south. Obviously aware of the significance of the harvest, Lord Harris, Lord Lieutenant of the County, juxtaposed it against the threat of invasion in a speech to a Canterbury recruiting meeting. He asked: ‘Was there anything more terrible to imagine than all the peaceful occupation of harvest being carried on without interruption, and the smiling dales and hills that made Kent so beautiful, being tarnished by the horrors of invasion?’¹⁷ Pressed by a combination of economic concerns and fears for the safety of the county the most attractive option for many men must have been the Territorial Force. Understrength in the summer of 1914, the two Buffs Territorial battalions were suddenly swollen by an influx of recruits. The 4th battalion stood 1,300 strong by early September including forty-four students from the agricultural college at Wye.¹⁸ At this stage no Territorial soldier could be forced to serve abroad, and thus many men might have regarded it as a good way of combining their domestic and work lives with honourable national service.¹⁹ However, the question of recruitment in the county was clearly a delicate subject in the autumn of 1914. On 19 September 1914 the Kentish Gazette and Canterbury Press carried an editorial that attempted to defend the honour of the county: Kent has been somewhat stigmatised for the comparatively poor contribution which she has made to Lord Kitchener’s Army. This is scarcely merited. The Hop County is not a

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largely populated area, and it has to be remembered that, with its several navy and military centres, the recruiting is, at normal times, at a high standard . . . The agriculturalists generally have lost large numbers of men at a most inconvenient time, but to their credit, be it said, they have been only too willing to help.²⁰

Given this sensitivity on the recruitment issue it is necessary to look at the composition of the Buffs’ battalions to ascertain whether they did, in fact, reflect the social and cultural complexion of the county. Using the available evidence it is possible to construct a snapshot of the various battalions in the early stages of the war. It is clear that some men joined the Buffs with only a limited knowledge of Kent and the regiment. The memoirs of Horace Reid, for example, reveal that he was born in Cambridgeshire and was learning the grocery trade in Hitchin, Hertfordshire, in 1914. When war broke out he considered his position for about a month before going to London with three friends intent on joining the London Rifle Brigade. At the recruiting office he was passed fit and instructed to take a week’s leave. On his return he was informed that the LRB was full and he had been transferred to the 8th Buffs. However, he was not too disappointed as he stated that he had always wanted to see Canterbury.²¹ The account of Private C. R. Smith of the 7th Buffs reveals a similarly awkward route into the regiment. Smith was a man with West Country connections, and had served in the Territorial battalion of the Somerset Light Infantry before the war, but in 1914 he was working in the pub trade in London. For reasons he did not disclose he decided to join the Buffs rather than his former unit or a London battalion.²² James Carpenter, clerk to a provision merchant at London Bridge, and resident of Walthamstow, east London, also chose the Buffs rather than a local unit, and, like Smith, his reasons are equally unclear. His memoirs, written up in the early 1920s from notes made during the war, state his disappointment that he was forced into the Royal Sussex on enlistment, but when his draft arrived at Chichester they were asked whether they wanted to volunteer for the Buffs as 300 men were needed to complete a battalion. He took the opportunity and was taken off to Purfleet to join the 8th Buffs.²³ Carpenter’s route into the battalion is interesting for it reveals that it was by no means a solely East Kent unit and must have contained a fair admixture of men born or resident in London and the south-east. The available evidence actually shows that the call for manpower was heeded in the county even if not quite at the rate some expected. Men joined the Buffs for reasons of local pride and allegiance as East Kent communities rallied to the regiment. Robert Cude was from New Cross in south-east London, an area closely connected to Kent in terms of family links and economics.²⁴ Along with a group of friends he went to New Cross Town Hall on 7 September, was sworn into the Buffs, and on arrival in Canterbury he was directed to the 7th Buffs.²⁵ The Kentish Gazette and Canterbury Press carried the names of local men who had joined the forces, and the numbers who opted for the Buffs is marked.²⁶ The regiment even came close to gaining its own ‘Pals’ battalion’, and significantly it came

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from the industrialised sector of the county.²⁷ D company of the 6th Buffs was made up of 244 men from William Cory & Son Ltd., a firm specialising in the sea transportation of coal and coke with its main operation based on the Medway. After conversations with the War Office the firm sent an appeal to all its offices, wharves, and warehouses (including those on the Essex side of the Thames) calling for men to serve in the Buffs, guaranteeing that all would serve together. The volunteers were then enlisted in the Trafalgar Square recruiting office by special arrangement on 3, 9, and 10 September.²⁸ Residential, economic, and social links were therefore taken to an even higher level in this unit and made D company a distinctive element within the Buffs. The final piece of evidence revealing the initial connections between the county and the regiment can be drawn from the casualty figures. An analysis of the places of birth, enlistment, and residence shows much about the complexion of the battalions. The casualty figures given in the table Appendix 1a are drawn from Soldiers Died in the Great War, and represent each battalion’s debut in action, thus reflecting the moment when the initial cohort of troops faced their first significant test.²⁹ As can be seen, the figures highlight distinct patterns. The 1st Buffs was overwhelmingly a Kent unit in 1914; nearly all of the casualties had a close connection with the county. The 6th Buffs was also very much Kent-based, but with a number of men from London and the south-east. This trend was more clearly marked in the 7th Buffs which had a significant admixture of Londoners/south-easterners and East Anglians. Finally, the 8th Buffs figures reveal that it was as much a London, and particularly metropolitan Surrey, unit as a Kent one, and helps to verify Carpenter’s statements on the call for volunteers for the battalion at the Chichester barracks. Obviously, it had proved impossible to fill the battalion with Kent men alone. New recruits arriving in Canterbury in order to report for duty found a system in utter chaos. The experiences faced by those who arrived at the depot in August and September 1914 were repeated up and down the country as the army’s administration sagged under the weight of volunteers.³⁰ Robert Cude recorded that he had to sleep on the barrack square as all available accommodation was full. Unable and unwilling to join in the melee for breakfast on the next morning he decided to go hungry, but was then detailed to wash-up a vast pile of utensils.³¹ Disgusted by conditions at the depot, Horace Reid and his friends walked out in the early hours of the morning having bribed the sentry and made a promise to return in the morning. They then slept on benches in the cathedral precinct before having breakfast in a cafe.³² Matters did not improve much when the men were taken off to training camps. Working in a motley collection of huts and tents at Purfleet on the Essex marshes, Major Eaton was taken by surprise when 600 men arrived for the 6th Buffs without prior warning. ‘There were no rations for them and absolutely no accommodation of any sort.’ He therefore ordered the men to remain in the railway carriages for the night, and gave them three days’ leave the

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next morning.³³ Cude was also bundled off to Purfleet where men were crammed into tents. By ‘3pm camp in uproar, armed pickets on gates, only infuriated men more. Boys demand food, failing this leave to go home and get some.’³⁴ Unable to feed the men the camp authorities gave them permission to go home on three days’ leave. Carpenter records similar scenes that reveal much about the excited state of tempers. Food was short for two days, then ‘On the third day a riot broke out, and men demanded more food. Hundreds of men were going about in mobs, raiding tents and food stores, and others broke camp and walked to London. The roads were full of deserters, or men taking leave.’³⁵ Among those walking home was Cude and his friends. Many men must have reconsidered their position while on leave for Cude returned to camp to find numbers down, and estimated that nearly 20 per cent had failed to return. He remarked wryly in his diary, ‘suppose they failed to see the humour of the thing, or, their Patriotism has run dry’.³⁶ The weather did not help matters. A wet autumn turned the training camps into muddy morasses and the huts and tents failed to keep out the rain. Both 6th and 8th Buffs complained of leaking huts. Things got so bad in the 6th Buffs that tents were erected inside the huts, while the 8th Buffs at Shoreham was hampered by a lack of local labour making the completion of huts a drawn-out affair.³⁷ Matters improved for the 6th Buffs when it was transferred to Elham and Lyminge, two villages between Dover and Canterbury. Back in East Kent the men were given a warm welcome. Eaton recalled, ‘the householders, one and all, seemed to vie with each other as to who could do their men best. Nor will the Officers, I am certain, ever forget all the kindness which was shown to them.’³⁸ Exposure to army life and men from different class and educational backgrounds proved a shock for some new recruits to the Buffs. The bad language, and a gaggle of rough Londoners who resented military discipline and lacked any sense of personal hygiene, appalled Horace Reid. This issue became particularly noticeable when the men began to relieve themselves by their beds rather than visit the latrine block.³⁹ Others experienced similar culture shocks. Sergeant Beer, a reserved and thoughtful man of the 3rd battalion, quickly overcame his shock at the barrack language of the new recruits, which also reveals how genteel pre-war life had been in the 3rd battalion, and soon enjoyed the good humour in their boisterous, smutty songs.⁴⁰ Smith commented on the bemusement of Londoners who, while in training, saw apples growing on trees for the first time.⁴¹ Although all recruits had left a remarkably hierarchical and disciplined society, first contact with officers and NCOs marked a distinct departure from the norms of civilian life. Horace Reid was very impressed by the attitude of his commanding officer, Lieutenant-Colonel Romer, and remarked that he was a true gentleman.⁴² Carpenter recalled Romer’s keen regard for hygiene and fresh air, and his order that all tents had to be struck one day a week to allow the breeze to blow through the camp.⁴³ Officers and NCOs gained respect by taking a fair and reasonable attitude. A drunken sergeant caused much commotion in Smith’s hut when he ordered the men to put the lights out and go to bed. The men refused and the

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sergeant ordered others to put them under arrest, which was also ignored. Hearing the argument an officer stepped in, took the sergeant outside and was heard to tick him off for acting without good reason. This pacified the men and earned their respect.⁴⁴ Reid liked his Regular RSM because he treated the junior officers and new NCOs in exactly the same manner, politely, but firmly, demanding efficiency from both. He also held certain officers in high regard commenting, ‘who wanted to soldier under better officers than Captain W. D. Johnson, a man who gave us real confidence and example?’⁴⁵ The commencement of the full training regime then appears to have caused opinions to solidify. Good officers and NCOs stood out strongly during this process. Beer respected his Captain who clearly trusted him and left him to get on with his job, whereas the interfering Lieutenant Sharp was resented.⁴⁶ Carpenter was ambivalent about one NCO, ‘Sergeant Brander . . . one of the big bully type of instructor, but he didn’t take too many liberties with us, as some of the men were more than his equal.’ However, like Reid, he had great respect for the hugely experienced Sergeant Mepham, a Buffs Regular who had spent many years in India (presumably with the 2nd Buffs), and took the men specially selected for the scouting course.⁴⁷ As with every other service unit the new Buffs battalions faced severe difficulties in gaining equipment and uniforms. The first casualty was dignity. Men expected to get into uniform at once, but often had to drill in their civilian clothes. ‘No khaki. This is a disappointment indeed’, wrote Cude on his arrival at the Canterbury depot.⁴⁸ Supplies came in fits and starts leading to a multiplicity of kit. Eaton recalled drilling men clad in khaki, serge, and civilian clothes.⁴⁹ The serge suits Eaton referred to were gradually issued as a stopgap measure, but even this supply was limited. Most men were deeply unimpressed by it. Carpenter wrote: We had been in training about two months when we received our first issue of uniform. It was blue, made similar to civilian suits, but all of one pattern with red piping, and forage caps with brass buttons and badges. This we were compelled to wear after a great deal of controversy, as we hated the look of it. So we packed our civilian clothes and sent them home, and rigged ourselves out in our convict garb, as we termed it.⁵⁰

Rifles were equally scarce, and dummy versions were used in early training. The 6th and 7th Buffs appear to have received their first consignments in the spring of 1915, but the 8th Buffs was not issued with rifles until late May 1915.⁵¹ Carrying out a rigorous training regime was almost impossible under these circumstances.⁵² Equipment was in short supply, as were instructors with experience of conditions on the Western Front, and the men were almost entirely without knowledge of military life. Given this scenario the army resorted to drill. Drill could be taught by the most superannuated instructor, although many were unfamiliar with the 1909 Field Service Regulations, and also imbedded the rudiments of military behaviour, standards, and skills. The memoirs and diaries of Reid, Smith, Cude, and Carpenter all record much drilling. Only gradually did training begin to

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include more sophisticated elements, usually after three months of basic drilling and musketry. Reid and Carpenter were both very enthusiastic about the scouting courses appreciating the opportunity to show initiative and leadership. Once in the scouting platoon Carpenter and his colleagues lived a separate life. They were billeted in Worthing and taught map reading, river, road, and railway surveys, demolition skills, bridge construction and the principles of bridging, mathematics including trigonometry, astronomy, range finding, tracking, and semaphore.⁵³ Much of the rest of the battalion was, however, very much lagging behind. Eaton’s 6th Buffs took part in various exercises only some of which were directly useful. His battalion completed bombing drills, and won the two top prizes in the divisional sniping competition; as an officer in a regiment obsessed with marksmanship he doubtless believed this to be right and proper (see Chapter 2). Second Lieutenant W. S. Barham participated in various exercises at Dover castle when completing his training in the 3rd battalion. His diary notes reveal the lessons of the Boer War (see Chapter 2), but it is difficult to establish whether the role of artillery was fully appreciated: We were a force which had landed at Deal and wanted to capture Dover for a landing here of an army. The enemy held all the little trenches all over the shop, and we took most of them at the point of the bayonet. When the cease fire went we were up against a big entrenchment, and I was doing a little encircling movement of my own; we had just opened fire on them from the rear when the cease fire went.⁵⁴

Two days later he was detailed to defend a trench and directed his men clutching his sword. He remarked: ‘As a matter of fact, they would not have got within miles of the place, because we had about 150 men and a machine gun firing at them from good cover.’⁵⁵ The evidence is therefore a little ambiguous—there is a realistic interpretation of the defensive power of the machine gun, but no mention of artillery, and he commanded with his sword drawn. Sergeant Beer assisted in the training of new recruits at Dover, and recorded fire and movement sessions in which bayonet charges covered by flanking firing parties were practised. He was thoughtful enough to note in his diary that ‘it appears that the operations were partially obsolete from a Flanders point of view, but they may be of use when we get the German away from his support trenches, and into the open again.’⁵⁶ As part of 18 Division the 7th Buffs was subjected to Major-General Ivor Maxse’s regime. Having fought in the early engagements of the war and witnessed the drift into trench warfare, Maxse brought his recent experience to bear. The 18 Division was therefore put through a rigorous programme, but neither of the other divisional commanders could bring such immediate and contemporary knowledge to their training schedules.⁵⁷ On formation the service battalions were desperately short of officers. This shortfall was made good by the employment of the so-called ‘dugouts’, the nickname given to the many retired officers recalled to service, and a rash of new

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commissions. Commanding officers tended to be retired officers some of them former Buffs. As has been noted, Majors C. P. Lloyd, A. F. Campbell Johnson, and C. L. Parmiter were appointed to the 6th and 7th Buffs. The 8th Buffs gained a whole clutch of former officers all of whom were members of Boodles club in London. Colonel F. C. Romer, then sixty years old, was accepted for service, appointed commanding officer (CO) of the battalion, and then used his influence at the club to persuade his friends into joining him. Accompanying him to the camp at Shoreham were six members, all over forty years old—Major Dansy, Major A. Crawley, Captain Hare, Captain W. Howard, Captain W. D. Johnson, and Lieutenant Sir William Cooke—and two waiters.⁵⁸ Over the following months all three service battalions witnessed many officers coming and going with the final adjustments made once settled in France. The 7th Buffs illustrates this rapid turnover and final ‘shakedown’ neatly. On formation in September 1914 the commanding officer was Major Cotesworth. One month later LieutenantColonel Johnson replaced him, with Cotesworth moving to the post of second-incommand. In November, Johnson was himself replaced by Lieutenant-Colonel Young, formerly of the Indian Army. Young stayed with the battalion until February 1915 when W. F. Elmslie, a retired officer of the Lancashire Fusiliers, took command. Elmslie took the battalion to France in July 1915, along with Major Parmiter as second-in-command. Both men were in their fifties and must have found life in the trenches difficult for in November Parmiter was invalided home, followed by Elmslie in January 1916. Lieutenant-Colonel Ransome of the Dorsetshire Regiment then took charge, and Major R. T. Monier Williams was promoted to second-in-command. The battalion now had the command team that would prepare it for the Battle of the Somme.⁵⁹ These officers were supplemented with newly commissioned men. Figures of local influence and the educated middle classes of the county were drawn into the battalions to serve as junior officers. Lord Teynham was given a captaincy in the 6th Buffs. He was joined in the battalion by a representative sample of the commercial and white-collar professionals of East Kent. G. Hamilton Greig, son of the Managing Director of Cory’s, was made a Second Lieutenant, as was A. L. Gullick, Cambridge-educated and resident of Broadstairs, and D Company (‘Cory’s Company’) was commanded by George Friend, a landowner on the Isle of Thanet, and brother of R. S. I. Friend, a Regular officer of the 1st Buffs. Second Lieutenant C. G. Jelf was the son of the vicar of Westerham, and Lieutenant J. P. Phillimore was a graduate of St Augustine’s College, Canterbury. The two other service battalions had a similar character. Second Lieutenant T. W. Underhill of the 7th Buffs was the son of a Canterbury family, and had been educated at Rugby. His fellow 7th Buffs officer, Second Lieutenant B. S. Bambridge, was also a resident of Canterbury, and was the son of the late Canon Bambridge of St Mary Bredin, a parish within the city. Captain John Kekewich of the 8th Buffs responded to his Buffs connections, for his uncle was a Colonel of the regiment. Serving with him in the 8th Buffs was Captain Shervinton, the son of Lieutenant-Colonel Shervinton,

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and resident of Broadstairs. These few examples reveal not only the sense of duty, honour, and patriotism that was so much a part of middle- and upper-class life in Georgian Britain, but also a distinct sense of local pride and community.⁶⁰ During 1915, and often while still in training in England, the battalions gained a third type of officer, men combed out of the other ranks. Realising that many men deemed natural leaders due to their education and class background had joined the ranks, the army, desperate for officers, began to tap this pool. The 8th Buffs therefore gained men like Second Lieutenant E. Foster Hall. Educated at Blundells where he had been in the Officer Training Corps, and set for a career in the City, Foster Hall joined the 5th Seaforth Highlanders as a private in 1914. At a party thrown by his uncle he met Brigadier-General Ross, which reveals the social standing of his family. Ross asked him why he had not sought a commission. Acting on this suggestion he was then commissioned into the Buffs.⁶¹ Other examples include the Tonbridge School educated Second Lieutenant A. J. Hanmer who was commissioned from the Public Schools Battalion, Middlesex Regiment; Second Lieutenant D. A. Harnett, who was educated at Bancroft and Christ’s Hospital, and served in the Royal Garrison Artillery before taking a commission in the Buffs, and Second Lieutenant A. G. Hubbard, a Dulwich College boy who first went to France with the Queen’s Westminster Rifles.⁶² These various sources supplied the service battalions with a mixture of men and qualities. Most of the dugouts had seen action in either South Africa or in colonial policing operations, a cluster of the men commissioned from the ranks had already experienced the Western Front and so had some knowledge of current conditions, while others were used to command and leadership thanks to their educational, cultural, or professional backgrounds. It was by no means, however, the ideal. The vast majority of these men would have to learn their role by experience. In the early days therefore the smattering of Regular Buffs officers and NCOs was vital to the efficiency of the service battalions. Providing new NCOs for the service battalions was the second major leadership issue. As with the new officers, skills and attributes transferable from civilian life were prized. P. C. Upton, a senior figure in a Folkestone business, member of the Folkestone Chamber of Commerce and the Folkestone Rowing Club, probably found that his peacetime experiences helped ensure his promotion to sergeant in the 7th Buffs.⁶³ Similar qualities were found in another 7th Buffs sergeant. A. H. Wilbourne, of the lower-middle-class suburb of Leytonstone in East London, had been educated at the Coopers’ Livery Company school, was an active sportsman, and a clerk in the De Beers’ Mining Company when war broke out.⁶⁴ Wilbourne’s skills and character must have been a very useful asset to the battalion. Those in positions of authority and responsibility in Cory’s were also given NCO status. Two good examples are Lance-Corporals D. W. Berry and E. Brown of the 6th Buffs. Berry worked as a clerk in the Head Office and Brown was a foreman at the Charlton barge works.⁶⁵ Other men gained their army status by sheer power of personality, and these figures of strong and capable character

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must have come to the attention of officers and senior NCOs who marked them down for leadership roles. Jimmy Carpenter recalled that on his first night at Purfleet one man came to the fore: Charlie [Crowley] was a rattling good chap, very straightforward, and he very modestly used to inform me that he could do anything and everything. He really was clever, and I believe he accomplished everything he set out to do . . . Charlie took command of our carriage and under his directions we prepared for our night’s imprisonment. [They were locked in until morning.]⁶⁶

Swiftly Crowley was made a lance-corporal, a move which pleased Carpenter and his friends for ‘he was not a man to abuse his authority, which he had fully earned.’ Crowley was then sent to Aldershot to train as a Gymnastic Instructor and returned a full corporal. His impartial and efficient manner made him a respected man: ‘We all took our turn at Hut Orderly, which was a very thankless task, but Charlie ruled with a rod of iron and showed no favouritism. He made us all take our turn.’⁶⁷ Thanks to his experience in the school cadet corps Horace Reid was made a lance-corporal in the 8th Buffs. He appreciated the way Regular NCOs treated him, and was especially pleased to be asked to pick out other men for promotion by his platoon sergeant. ‘I went for men I had learnt to appreciate in general personality and natural intelligence. Men I knew I could trust and had the ability to settle down to a few months of hard training and extra book study.’⁶⁸ As with Crowley, Reid greatly enjoyed this opportunity to show initiative and leadership, and was promoted to sergeant by the time the battalion crossed to France. The appointment of NCOs with such qualities was clearly very important for it allowed men unused to army life to make the transition under the leadership of one of their own. The consistency and cohesion created by this system were then severely tried by the harsh facts of the war on the Western Front which enforced a huge turnover of officers and men. Many other officers came and went almost immediately with young, inexperienced Second Lieutenants most vulnerable: W. L. Donelan joined the 8th Buffs in February 1917 and was killed in April; F. I. Sowter was killed within two months of joining the 7th Buffs. Others served throughout but intermittently thanks to wounds or sickness. Lieutenant Eric Foster Hall of the 8th Buffs was wounded in early July 1916 and did not return to the battalion until late September and thus missed its hard fighting on the Somme. He was then wounded again in 1917 during the assault on Spoilbank which ensured his absence until December. A course at Doullens then took up a month before he found himself posted to the 1st Buffs with which he served for the rest of the war. He was therefore a veteran, but with significant gaps in his service. For this reason calculating average service for all officers is not very helpful, as it does not help to reveal the huge discrepancies and granularity of experiences on the Western Front. Small cadres who managed to avoid death, serious injury, or rapid re-posting and promotion often ensured the survival of each battalion’s ethos and served as the

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source of distilled collective experience and wisdom. Continuity started at the top with the service of commanding officers. During the course of the conflict the 1st Buffs had six commanders; the 6th, 7th, and 8th had four each. Examination of each commanding officer’s length of service reveals that command time generally became longer as the battalions settled down to life on the Western Front. The 1st Buffs had three commanders between August 1914 and July 1915, but then found stability with three long-serving leaders, E. H. Finch Hatton (July 1915–July 1916), H. W. Green (July 1916–November 1917), and R. E. Power (December 1917–Armistice). Roughly similar patterns can be detected in the service battalions. W. A. Eaton served the 6th Buffs from September 1914 through to October 1915; he was then replaced by H. R. H. Pratt’s brief tenure of four months. Continuity was then re-established with two long reigns: T. G. Cope from March 1916 to June 1917, and his successor A. S. Smeltzer then saw the battalion through to the Armistice. In the 7th Buffs two short commands, W. B. Young’s eight months, and W. F. Elmslie’s six months, gave way to the longest command period of any Buffs battalion as A. L. Ransome led for one year and nine months before being replaced for the final three months of the war by H. M. C. Curtis. The 8th Buffs had three commanders who served nearly a year each: F. C. Romer, eleven months; L. W. Lucas, ten months; F. C. R. Studd, eleven months, and one short tenure, that of A. P. H. Trueman who led for four months. Supporting the core pivot of the commanding officer was a pool of officers who helped provide stability and continuity. In the records left by 1st Buffs R. S. I. Friend stands out as a key officer serving as company commander and then second-in-command between September 1914 and his departure in October 1916. Another 1st Buffs officer, A. F. Worster arrived as a Second Lieutenant in January 1917 and rose rapidly to become a well-respected company commander by the time of his death in November. H. W. Green joined his old battalion in May 1916 which then gave him two months to ‘acclimatise’ before he took over as commander. The other three battalions also relied on small groups of hardened and reliable officer veterans. A. S. Smeltzer had been with the 6th Buffs since the start of the war when he took over as commander in 1917, and Major V. V. V. Sandiford remained second-in-command throughout 1916. Newly commissioned in November 1914, J. C. Page served throughout the war with the battalion and held the post of adjutant from March 1916 until the Armistice. A. C. L. Nicholson of the 7th Buffs experienced a similar New Army career as he moved from Second Lieutenant in the winter of 1914 to temporary commander in January 1916, and then second-in-command from the autumn of 1916. Close study of the Buffs has revealed a further factor that may have guaranteed the survival of the regimental ethos. As noted earlier, throughout the war the 1st, 6th, 7th, and 8th Buffs retained a core of pre-war Regular 1st and 2nd Buffs officers and NCOs by careful hoarding and cross posting. These personnel often served in more than one battalion and probably played a role in keeping the regimental spirit alive and maintaining standards of military professionalism. It is

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worth examining the careers of a handful of officers to illustrate this phenomenon. The 1st Buffs appears to have been the hub, thus maintaining a sense of pre-eminence among the regiment’s battalions on the Western Front, drawing in officers from the 2nd and 3rd battalions. At the same time the battalion also sent out its own officers before reclaiming some for further service. Pre-war Regular officers sent out from the 1st Buffs to the service battalions include C. F. Cattley, who joined the 6th Buffs; L. W. Lucas, who took command of 8th Buffs in March 1916; his successor as 8th Buffs commander, F. C. R. Studd; and N. G. Vertue, transport officer of the 1st Buffs who became adjutant in the 6th Buffs. Some officers were then drawn back to the 1st Buffs after service elsewhere: E. H. Allen returned from the 6th Buffs in 1916; H. C. C. Morley resumed his position in 1918 after a period in the Royal Flying Corps; R. S. I. Friend was attached to the Canadian Expeditionary Force for a while; and H. W. Green took over as battalion commander in the spring of 1916 following a period attached to a service battalion of the Essex Regiment. Pre-war 3rd battalion officers were also deployed across the regiment. C. E. A. Terry served with the 1st Buffs, took command of a cadet battalion in England, and then returned to the 1st Buffs. C. W. Blackall joined the 1st Buffs at the front in the winter of 1914 and was acting commanding officer for a while in the summer of 1917 before taking charge of the 4th South Staffordshire. The final source was 2nd Buffs officers who were drawn into service on the Western Front. After a time in the 1st Buffs N. D. Rice was deployed in the 8th Buffs as adjutant, and L. P. Causton was transferred to the 1st Buffs in the summer of 1916. H. de R. Morgan, 2nd Buffs adjutant in 1914, served with the 1st Buffs, and then completed attachments to the Machine Gun Corps and Tank Corps before returning as second-in-command in early 1918, and he was quickly followed by another 2nd Buffs officer, R. E. Power, who took command of the battalion after service with the King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry.⁶⁹ This interchange of officers may have counter-balanced the disrupting effects of high casualty rates among officers and NCOs. It also appears to reveal a remarkable degree of lateral communication and interaction given the fact that none of the battalions served in the same brigade, let alone division. The 1st Buffs used a further tactic to maintain a distinct character: the promotion to officer rank of a considerable number of its pre-war NCOs rather than use a source it couldn’t strictly control. Forced to make this move by heavy officer casualties in the first months of the war, successive battalion commanders must have been impressed by the results for the policy was maintained. For most of those promoted it was the start of solid military careers. Five ended the war with the rank of captain: P. C. Wort, W. T. Stone, W. Orwin, W. R. Corrall, and E. A. Carter (transferred to 6th Buffs in January 1916). Stone and Corrall were both sent on special courses to give them staff officer experience; Corrall returned with a first class mark, and was appointed 8th Buffs commander in December 1917 with the task of overseeing its disbandment in February 1918. One commissioned 2nd Buffs sergeant, W. Birrell, also had a distinguished career with the 1st Buffs.

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By the time he left the unit in 1917 with the rank of captain, he had served continually for two years and ten months. However, the most spectacular career was that of A. S. Smeltzer. Promoted to Second Lieutenant in October 1915 after nearly fifteen years in 1st Buffs ranks, he rose to become commanding officer of the 6th Buffs by the spring of 1917.⁷⁰ This was a remarkable feat in what had been a fiercely hierarchical and ring-fenced profession. Retention of reliable NCOs was also a matter of importance in terms of efficiency and continuity as for most men these soldiers were the immediate point of contact with authority. Tracing NCOs has proved a difficult task, but the significance of good NCOs can be estimated through the surviving fragments of evidence relating to five pre-war Regulars. CSM J. R. MacWalter was clearly a man of considerable skill and influence. The diary of Captain W. S. Barham, a 3rd Buffs officer who joined the 1st Buffs on the Western Front in December 1914, referred to him as ‘my best NCO’, and missed him greatly when he was injured.⁷¹ MacWalter served in the 1st Buffs throughout the war winning the Military Medal and the Distinguished Conduct Medal. Sergeant W. Denny also served with the 1st Buffs throughout the war, as did Sergeant T. J. Birrell. A few other NCOs are worthy of comment. First, RSM Kesby, brother of Lieutenant T. H. Kesby, killed on the Somme a week after his brother, by which time he had seventeen years’ service behind him. Sheer length and continuity of service must have provided these men with an invaluable cache of knowledge and experience. A similar degree of accumulated wisdom must have been found in Ben Kempster, Regimental Quartermaster Sergeant of the 1st Buffs, and Lance-Corporal J. T. Lond. Kempster joined the Buffs in 1912 and served throughout the war gaining the Distinguished Conduct Medal in the process. Lond enlisted in 1900 after working on the railway at Dover docks. At the start of the war he was transferred to the 6th Buffs, and was killed on the Somme. Another experienced soldier posted to the 6th Buffs was William Cotter, the Buffs’ sole Victoria Cross winner of the war. Cotter was discharged to the Reserve list in February 1914, but recalled at the outbreak of war despite having a glass eye. Like Lond, Cotter was one of the key men providing a leavening of expertise and professionalism. Cotter won the VC in March 1916 for his role in the defence of a crater, despite appalling injuries. He organised his men and directed their fire even after losing his right leg at the knee and sustaining injuries in both arms. When the attack was driven off it proved impossible to evacuate Cotter for a further fourteen hours, and he died in hospital.⁷² As will be demonstrated later, Cotter’s Victoria Cross came at a crucial moment for the morale of the 6th Buffs. Although the use of so many pre-war Buffs officers and men created a semblance of continuity, at the same time a distinct shift in the social complexion of the regiment occurred. As argued above, prior to 1914 the regiment’s officers came from a fairly narrow section of the middle and upper classes. By mid-1916 the officer ranks especially had undergone a revolution. Lower-middle-class-civilians had flooded-in, as had experienced NCOs. The pressures of war had introduced

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accents, attitudes, and styles unknown a few years earlier. In order to understand the effect of this shift on cohesion, military efficiency, and combat effectiveness it is necessary to determine whether it altered relations between officers themselves, and between officers and men. The first effect of the war was the noticeable lowering of the age of commanding officers. The age of the 1st Buffs’ CO, Hill, in 1914 was fifty, Eaton of 6th Buffs was forty-four, Young of the 7th Buffs was fifty-four, while Romer was the oldest by far at sixty. By 1918 the commander of the 1st Buffs was forty-four, and the rest were all in their thirties: Smeltzer (6th Buffs) and Corrall (8th Buffs) were thirty-six, and Ransome of the 7th Buffs was thirty-five. However, Buffs commanders were still considerably older than the 1917–1918 BEF average age of twenty-eight.⁷³ Regular officers appeared to adjust to the new situation and accepted the influx of newcomers. When Lieutenant-Colonel Eaton wrote to the father of Second Lieutenant A. Hamilton Greig to express his condolences it was by no means a perfunctory expression of duty, but reflected a very genuine interest and respect for a fellow officer and the men of Cory’s: You must excuse me for only answering your ever so kind letter shortly, as these are times of stress and arrangements have to be made for us to go back to the trenches tomorrow. I cannot really tell you how gallant your men were when they attacked, poor Major Soames leading them. Their behaviour, bravery and gallantry was absolutely beyond all praise. They played up to the very highest records of The Buffs, which is saying something. Any more like them you can let us have we shall know and appreciate.⁷⁴

In fact, Eaton was so affected by his battalion’s appalling debut in action at Loos that it effectively ended his career (see Chapter 3). In the spring of 1918 Lieutenant-Colonel Ransome, commanding officer of the 7th Buffs, took a temporary staff posting. The letters he wrote to his replacement, Major A. C. L. Nicholson, an insurance clerk on the outbreak of war, show no sense of snobbery or detachment. On the contrary, Ransome’s attitude reveals a respect for a fellow professional. He stated that: ‘I have not been up to see you as I don’t want, by my presence—which could probably mean my interference—to poke my nose into the running of things.’⁷⁵ Four months later Ransome had been promoted to brigadier and wrote to Nicholson again in a letter that highlights an understated sense of humour and self-knowledge. Referring to his successor, he noted: ‘I hope you will like Colonel Curtis. I am sure you won’t find him so irritable, and bothering as you all must have found me.’⁷⁶ Ransome’s manner shows that he was prepared to accept temporary officers as his equal. A similar attitude to officers from different backgrounds can be found in the diary of W. S. Barham, a member of a wealthy Kent family. Although a 3rd Buffs officer who had joined the 1st Buffs while it was based at Fermoy in Ireland in July 1914, Barham’s background, education at Malvern and Clare College, Cambridge, and nature gave him the status, bearing, and demeanour of a Regular. Physical Training dominated his first week at the Fermoy barracks under the careful instruction of Sergeant Corrall. Corrall obviously impressed Barham, as he wrote: ‘I have got used

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to him now; he is a very decent chap, and I like him.’⁷⁷ When Barham arrived on the Western Front in December 1914 he was detailed to share a dugout with Corrall who had recently been promoted to the rank of Second Lieutenant. The entry in his diary is one of bland acceptance; the class differences must have been obvious to both men, but Barham’s diary never reveals a trace of resentment or prejudice.⁷⁸ At only one point does he come close to making a statement that perhaps betrays a sense of superiority bred out of class difference: ‘Corrall keeps in this house with me; he is only 23, and that is not bad, being a 2nd Lieutenant at his age, come through the ranks.’⁷⁹ Military efficiency and good character appear to have been Barham’s only yardsticks. He rated highly Second Lieutenant Presnail, an officer who was promoted from the ranks, but doubted Clouting, a former Queen’s Westminster Rifles OR, as he ‘knows nought about drill of any sort, and does not seem to want to’.⁸⁰ The bulk of the evidence actually shows that Barham was perfectly happy to accept men of lesser social standing, a conclusion given added weight by the great friendship he struck up with Corrall. The two men often dined together in Armentières restaurants when out of the line, and it is clear that they indulged in a fair degree of horseplay and high-jinks: ‘Had a rag to-night, ragging old Corrall.’⁸¹ Touching evidence of the mutual affection between these two men can be found in the letter Corrall wrote to Barham’s father following his death in action: ‘When we meet in the Great Beyond, I will give him the best salute I can muster.’⁸² As Corrall’s response reveals, the process was two-way; non-traditional officers could come to regard their colleagues affectionately and as equals regardless of pre-war differences in rank and status. Despite his background, Corrall did not feel inhibited in his relations, and was prepared to stand his ground with men who before the war were of superior military and social rank. Barham’s diary records a heated exchange with their company commander, Captain Friend: ‘Corrall and I had a bit of a row with Friend this morning. He said we had altered his instructions, which we had not done. Then a good old argument ensued, and Friend and Corrall both lost their tempers, and went at one another for all they could.’⁸³ Corrall’s years of experience and knowledge gained in the ranks probably gave him the confidence to argue so fiercely. Others revealed equal respect and admiration for Regular officers. Second Lieutenant Eric Foster Hall’s diary states that he greatly appreciated his invitation to Lieutenant-Colonel Studd’s birthday party, but although he respected Major L. W. Lucas as a fine soldier, he understood very well why he had been nicknamed ‘Stuffy’!⁸⁴ Camaraderie between the new officers also appears to have been strong and may well have been enhanced by the need for mutual support in novel and often very trying circumstances. In 1922 Lieutenant Harry Ayers wrote in a letter to the regimental journal: They say ‘No love like the first love’, as several members of the 6th Battalion know I was a Cavalryman belonging to that very fine Regiment the 19th Royal Hussars, but I can assure you that the happiest days of my soldiering were with the best of the bunch, the 6th Battalion. (Espirit de Batt)⁸⁵

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Major Bernard Strauss, who had risen from temporary Second Lieutenant to commander of the 1st Buffs during the Battle of Cambrai, paid tribute to his friend and fellow temporary officer, Lieutenant A. F. Worster, in a letter of condolence to his father: For myself I cannot tell you how much the whole Battalion feels your son’s loss. His personal bravery and splendid soldierly qualities were a byword in a Battalion in which he had already won a Military Cross and a Bar. He was adored by his Company, whom he led to a glorious victory on the 20th in the battle of Cambrai, and with whom he had spent many critical and strenuous weeks in the trenches. Among the Officers of the Battalion he was universally popular and I have had expressions of sympathy from many other Officers in the other Battalions within the Brigade. Personally I was extremely attached to your son, whom I knew well, and to whose splendid qualities as a soldier and as a man I can bear witness. Please accept the heartfelt sympathy of the whole Battalion in your loss . . . Once more my heartfelt sympathy. At any rate you have the proud consolation of knowing that your son died as finely as he had lived, and that his name will not be forgotten in the Battalion in which he had rendered such conspicuous service . . . His memory will serve as an inspiration to us all.⁸⁶

Resentments did occasionally bubble up between New Army officers and those promoted from the ranks on one side, and Regular army officers on the other. Eric Foster Hall recalled his time at Dover while completing his training in the 3rd Buffs. Two recent Sandhurst graduates with Regular commissions who ‘greatly resented being lumped in with the others’ made the officers’ mess unhappy. The situation was further complicated by the attitude of those who had been commissioned from the ranks, as they felt that their practical experience of conditions on the Western Front made them far more valuable.⁸⁷ It is significant to note that the two officers responsible for this lack of unity were without knowledge of the front. The bulk of the evidence suggests that such attitudes were soon lessened by the realities of active service. Gauging the attitudes of officers to Other Ranks is much harder, as the evidence left by Buffs officers rarely makes reference to them. Second Lieutenant W. R. Taylor of the 6th Buffs was struck by the sardonic humour of the ranks, and recorded the sanguine response of a soldier when machine gun bullets suddenly spattered the parapet: ‘Call agine next week: Mother’s aht!’⁸⁸ The only regular comments are those recorded in Barham’s diary. Although his views cannot be regarded as representative of the entire officer corps of the regiment, they are worth noting for they reveal something about the qualities demanded by officers. His attitudes towards NCOs and Other Ranks shows that he judged men very much according to standards of willingness and efficiency, and he was unsparing on those he deemed lacking such qualities. In complete contrast to his sense of camaraderie with those commissioned from the ranks, his diary reveals a distinct gap between himself and the OR. While in camp at Le Havre he was posted to

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canteen picquet, and could not disguise his horror: ‘It was an awful job getting those Tommies out at 7.30; their lust for beer is positively disgusting.’⁸⁹ He was especially hard on those who had been given responsibility, but had failed to exercise it properly: ‘My platoon sergeant is a rotter; he was put under arrest again to-day. I expect he will be reduced this time.’ Brought up before the commanding officer, the platoon sergeant opted for a reduction to the ranks and a transfer to a different platoon rather than face a court martial. ⁹⁰ When the reliable MacWalter was absent through injury, Barham bemoaned his lack of good subordinates: My NCOs are really getting a bit thick, or rather thin; once I had a very good lot, now all the best have been wounded, or sick, or other duties, and I have a Platoon Sergeant and a Corporal, the only two left; they are the worst of the lot, and if Corp. Murphy does not buck up he will find himself a private again.⁹¹

He could be equally abrasive about privates; a soldier was heavily berated after Barham had censored his mail: That little swine — of my Platoon has written a very good letter home. He says he is fed up with the Buffs, and would not advise his pal to join them (nor should I if he is anything like —), and that he is a marked man—meaning I suppose that everybody is watching him; he is not far wrong there either—it needs a good many men watching him to make him do his work.⁹²

This sharp and critical eye was maintained constantly for a few weeks and later he noted that: ‘There has also been some trouble with one Kelise, who seems to resemble Lewis of No. 9 [platoon] in some ways, and who stirs up trouble in his platoon.’⁹³ On the flip side, Barham was equally ready to lavish genuine praise on those who met his own high standards, as was shown in his comments on MacWalter. Sergeant Grist is referred to as ‘awfully good’, and is praised as a man who performs ‘a very good job of . . . [everything] I put him on to’.⁹⁴ Establishing a general view of Buffs OR attitudes to their officers is equally difficult thanks to the lack of evidence, but some comment can be made based on the fragments of material available. Chivalrous and gentlemanly officers made a deep impression. Robert Cude of the 7th Buffs, and later brigade headquarters runner, was upset when an officer was posted to staff duties: ‘We are more than sorry to lose him as he is a thorough Gentleman.’⁹⁵ The capital letter adds greater depth to this statement. Private C. R. Smith, also of the 7th Buffs, praised Major Williams as ‘one of the fairest and most just officers one could meet’.⁹⁶ In his memoir Horace Reid recalled his admiration for Colonel Romer, and his speech just before the 8th Buffs’ disastrous debut in the Battle of Loos: ‘His voice was clear yet not free from emotion . . . I am sure the toughest man present felt that inevitable lump in his throat, and at the same time thanked God for such a grand man to lead us into battle.’⁹⁷ Reid showed immense devotion to his officers in the ensuing assault. Wounded by machine gun fire himself he saw Captain Johnson dazed by

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loss of blood caused by a large gash in his back. He patched-up Johnson as best he could and stayed with him until the Germans captured them both. He then insisted on carrying Johnson even though this meant giving up all chance of escape. The two men were then sent to different camps, but Johnson’s wife sent Reid food parcels throughout the war as a token of her gratitude. In addition, when Reid married in July 1919 he received a clock as a wedding present from the Johnsons with the inscription: ‘To Sergeant Horace Reid—8th Battalion The Buffs/in remembrance of his gallantry and devotion at/Loos—26 September 1915, when he was taken prisoner owing to his refusal to leave/Captain W. D. Johnson who was wounded— from E. P. J and W. D. J.—July 12th 1919.’ Reid added, ‘This generous recognition caused me a few tears on my wedding day.’⁹⁸ Officers who knew and accepted their limitations were also respected. In the days immediately before an attack near Monchy-le-Preux in May 1917 C. R. Smith’s officer lectured the men on the assault plans. The officer then stated that as he was too inexperienced he did not want to lead the platoon, and so was going to leave it in the hands of the senior sergeant. ‘We did not mind this, as we all knew the sergeant was a good soldier and proved himself on many other occasions when we had been in tight corners.’⁹⁹ By contrast certain orders provoked extreme resentment in Smith. He expressed utter contempt for the new practice of intensive digging training in the autumn of 1916. The men ‘did not believe in being prussianised and the officers tried hard to make them do it, but English is English and not German . . . our boys did not like being driven and strongly resented this German method.’¹⁰⁰ This exhausting training procedure, thought to be of great practical value by Maxse, provoked Smith to reflect on the nature of officers, and he expressed some seemingly shocking sentiments: There is a certain type of officer in the army to-day who would like to grind you down but he is a different man in an attack especially the first time with an old soldier, and as in every war, a rotten officer is not always shot by the enemy, you can always get your own back on the field of battle, no true British soldier will allow an officer with German ideas of discipline to last long in action. We don’t want them, and we are not going to allow them, an Englishman loves his King, Country and honour, and is a volunteer who is sacrificing his life, and woe betide the man who thinks he is a common machine like the German conscript, to be bullied and threatened into anything. I’ll bet he’ll be missing in the next attack.¹⁰¹

Smith’s thoughts are those of a proud volunteer willing to serve his country but unwilling to serve officers who fail to respect his position and role. Significantly, this emotional outburst came just after the battalion had completed its first major rebuild following action on the Somme and may well reflect the problem of new officers establishing themselves in a manner that seemed awkward to the veterans. Two months later he commented bluntly on Ransome’s inspection conducted in a snow storm: ‘we had to stand in a field freezing just to please the Colonel, and all we could do was to use as much strong language to ease our minds without him

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hearing it.’¹⁰² On the surface this appears to confirm Smith’s image as a recalcitrant soldier. It is more likely that it should be read as nothing more than the usual gripes of tired troops unable to understand the purpose of an order. Reinforcing this interpretation is the account of his experiences in hospital just a day or so later. He was disturbed by two orderlies he refers to as ‘agitators’; the two men kept up ‘an incessant clatter all night arguing on the army, the government and colonies and France . . . two of the oddest individuals I have seen in the army in France’.¹⁰³ Far from being a radical and attracted to such arguments Smith was wary of them, and his diary reveals that he was a highly responsible and conformist soldier who simply wanted to be treated with respect by those given authority. His essentially conservative nature is proved by the comment scribbled on the back cover of the diary, ‘The upper middle class make the greatest statesmen and politicians. The same is true in trade or profession.’¹⁰⁴ Following general attitudes to the war is equally difficult from such a small sample, but the evidence suggests that men retained a sense of patriotism and duty throughout. Corporal Charles Brain’s diary contains much high blown musing about nature imitating Keats, and the presumably self-composed doggerel verse: ‘Many homes mourn for absent/But heroes they will be/who gave up there [sic] lives for there [sic]/Country the land of the Brave/and of the Free.’¹⁰⁵ Perhaps most remarkable is the date at the top of this page, 13 October 1918. Popular interpretations of the Great War maintain that men lost all vestiges of patriotic sentiment fairly early in the war, yet this veteran of the 1st Buffs could write these lines without irony. A similar sentiment can be detected in Smith’s diary which contains a long introductory note added while recovering from wounds in the summer of 1917. His over-wrought language was clearly influenced by the tone and style of the yellow press, and, as with Brain, was written without irony: We were going to fight a despicable, cruel and subtle foe who stops at nothing to gain their ignoble ends. Poor Belgium has bled, tortured, and ruined and England might have been the same had not the brave hearts responded to the call of their King and Country . . . Long live General Botha, the Saviour of Victorious South Africa, our brave Indian Empire, loyal Australia, New Zealand and Canada. The whole of the mighty British Empire who hath joined to crush the bloody tyrant of the mad dog of Europe. We shall win or perish in the attempt, better to die a brave death, than a skulking coward.¹⁰⁶

An intense and sustained anti-German feeling is also apparent in Cude’s diary. While running messages on 1 July 1916 he was gradually worked-up into a fit of anger. ‘I long to be with the battalion so I can do my best to bereave a German family. I hate these swines!’ Later in the day he saw a group of German soldiers: ‘Have 2 Mills [bombs] in each [pocket], and there are some Jerry’s against me. They are prisoners and had it not been for the fact that they are being closely watched, I would have put one at least of my bombs among them.’¹⁰⁷ In January 1918 he heard rumours that Austria was about to surrender leaving Germany without a close ally, which caused him to remark, ‘My Godfathers, I hope that

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there is no quarter given until not a man, woman or child is left to call Germany a country or the Germans a nation.’¹⁰⁸ His bitterness was increased in October when he heard that a passenger ship had been torpedoed killing the sister of a 7th Buffs officer. His reaction not only reveals his anger at the Germans, but also the intense respect that could be felt for an officer: He carries with him the sympathy of all ranks in the Brigade: My Godfathers, what a nation of toads the Germans are. They are to finish the war just when they fancy they will, and before any damage is done to their Country, and, thanks to the sentimentality of some of the Englishmen over home, they will be allowed to do so. We have him entirely at our mercy now, and we can break him for all times by military means.¹⁰⁹

When the armistice came into effect it did little to alleviate his feelings, especially after German booby-traps had injured so many men in the last weeks of the war: A good many Germans came over, with the idea of fraternizing, but meet with the best surprise of their life. The Hatred [sic] of the Boche is much more pronounced since the armistice was called. They are taken prisoners, for we shall need them to locate the mines that are still about in their thousands . . .¹¹⁰

Cude also provides some insight into attitudes between other ranks. Precise rank, age, and experience appear to be the crucial determinants in this respect. By December 1915, after just a few months in France, Cude felt fully qualified to judge other troops. On witnessing the behaviour of a battalion newly arrived from England he commented on their dismal levels of training and discipline, and was appalled that officers ‘are known to their men by their Christian name’.¹¹¹ Feeling a gnarled old veteran by the spring of 1917 this soldier of the Buffs, ‘I am a Buff above all things’, was shocked by the state of his old battalion.¹¹² Rebuilt twice over since 1 July the battalion was, according to Cude, but a shadow of its former self: As for Buffs, well originally they could always be trusted to do all that was asked them, now, it is a Battalion of cripples. The few 1914 men left are given the job of teaching the others how to soldier. The fact is obvious to us and it disgusts a few of us. The Buffs, as constituted at present, cannot be trusted. They are on Corps Fatigues.¹¹³

(This was not quite true, however, for the 7th Buffs was the first to notice the German withdrawal on the 18 Division front in February 1917 and followed it up aggressively. See Chapter 6.) Pride was fully restored on 21 March 1918 when the battalion was the only unit on III Corps front to hold its positions throughout the day. Listening to messages arriving at brigade headquarters Cude was reassured by the performance of the battalion: ‘The old General [Wood] had been downcast, now his face lightens up, and he cannot conceal his admiration for the lads forward. His praise for our Battalion made me proud to be in the Buffs.’¹¹⁴ Having been rebuilt so many times the Buffs battalions were very different units by 1918, and, as has already been stated, this large-scale turnover of personnel had the potential to disrupt internal cohesion and efficiency. It is possible to determine

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exactly how far the battalions changed using Soldiers Died in the Great War to determine the places of birth, residence, and enlistment for those killed, died of wounds, and died between 1 January and 11 November 1918 (see Appendix 1b).¹¹⁵ These figures reveal that by 1918 a significant number of men connected with Kent were still in each battalion representing 27 per cent of the total in the 1st Buffs, 26 in the 6th, 23 in the 7th, and 14 in the 8th Buffs. But, the figures also reveal that the battalions had become largely London and south-east based units with a handful of others making up the total. In effect, the 1st, 6th, and 7th Buffs had moved towards the 8th Buffs, the unit that started life as an amalgam of Londoners and south-easterners. However, this heavy south-eastern weighting may have helped maintain at least a dash of regional pride and identity as the county would not have seemed utterly outlandish and remote to the men serving in the Buffs by 1918. The final test of internal cohesion and morale is the disciplinary record of the battalions. As with so much else concerning the minutiae of life in the battalions little evidence has survived. War diaries do not record courts martial consistently which makes it difficult to determine whether a battalion experienced surges of ill discipline or just a zealous adjutant who decided to note every detail. The only courts martial records to survive in full are those relating to capital cases where the sentence of death was carried out. Twenty-seven Buffs were condemned to death during the war, and five were executed, representing 19 per cent of the total, a higher number than the 11 per cent across the BEF as a whole during the war (Appendix 1c for the full list).¹¹⁶ Although this appears to represent a significantly higher execution rate in the Buffs that might be used as evidence of poor discipline and morale in the regiment, a close study of the five execution cases reveals a combination of factors at work. In at least four cases the accused provided very flimsy cases in their defence and had already caused their battalions problems, but there were also other motivations behind the confirmation of sentences showing a desire to use the exemplary nature of military law as a warning to others. The first man executed was Private R. Gawler of the 1st Buffs in February 1916 for the crime of desertion. Gawler was a pre-war Regular who had enlisted in December 1913. He disappeared for the first time in October 1915, but was apprehended and given Field Punishment Number 1, probably passed in the hope that it would teach him a sharp lesson. The punishment did not have the desired effect, however, for two months later Gawler was charged with two cases of desertion in quick succession. He had gone missing on 20 December when his company was ordered up to the trenches, but had presented himself to the town major of Poperinghe a day later and had been returned to duty. Ten days later he went missing again, and was not arrested until 23 January when he was apprehended at Osterhove camp, Boulogne. Gawler remained quiet throughout his trial, declining to say anything in his defence, but he pleaded not guilty to both charges. The members of the court were remarkably fair to Gawler and recommended leniency. Reflecting on his second absence they concluded that the first charge had clouded his judgement and caused him to follow it up with a rash act. Brigadier-General

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Nicholson wrote that the accused claimed to suffer from temporary lapses of memory. Two privates gave weight to this claim by stating that Gawler had an epileptic sister and grandfather. The men also stated that Gawler had changed from a happy, cheerful man to a morose, brooding one. Nicholson then added, ‘On the evidence in his previous trial I am of the opinion that there is reasonable ground for doubt as to whether he is entirely responsible for his own actions.’ (original emphasis). However, Nicholson’s next sentence probably helped seal Gawler’s fate for he stated that: ‘The discipline of the Battalion is excellent, except with regard to the crime of “Desertion” of which there has been a few cases lately.’ (original emphasis presumably by a member of the Deputy Assistant Adjutant General’s department). Nicholson had not underplayed the situation for five other men of the battalion were facing court martial on desertion charges, and this background situation probably represents the key to the case. The reactions of those higher up the chain of command certainly homed in on this fact. Major-General Charles Ross (6 Division) saw it as a simple decision and stated: ‘I consider that the death penalty should be exacted in this case . . . In my opinion the man was guilty of deliberate desertion without palliating circumstances. I do not concur with the recommendation to mercy.’ Lord Cavan (XIV Corps) agreed with the decision and believed Gawler’s execution would set an unequivocal example: ‘I agree with Maj Gen Ross and consider that the man should be shot as it was a case of deliberate desertion from the field—there have been several cases of desertion lately in this regiment.’ Haig duly confirmed the sentence and Gawler was executed on 24 February 1916.¹¹⁷ Facing the firing squad with Gawler on 24 February was another soldier of the 1st Buffs condemned for precisely the same crime. Alfred Eveleigh had enlisted in 1915 and rapidly proved himself to be a very ill-disciplined soldier. He was punished for absence and desertion three times before his final misdemeanour. Told to parade for duty in the trenches on 1 February 1916, Eveleigh could not be found when his company moved off. He then presented himself to the town major of Poperinghe the next morning possessing neither rifle nor kit. In his defence the accused stated that he had: no recollection whatever of being warned for the trenches that night. I did not know that the platoon was warned for anything at all that night. As far as I knew it was going to stay on the canal bank. I have been about 17 months with the battalion out here. I left camp at about 4pm that afternoon and spent the night at Poperinghe, and gave myself up to the RPH guard at Poperinghe. I did not return to the billets. I did not go to Poperinghe for anything in particular. I did not know that absence for one night would make me a deserter. I had heard the order read out about absence. I did not know I was for the trenches.

Having explained his position Eveleigh pleaded not guilty. Commenting on the case Nicholson took a very different attitude from that he had shown to Gawler. Nicholson’s varying assessments of the two cases can be used as evidence of his thoroughness and desire for military justice. He clearly saw Eveleigh’s

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crime as altogether more premeditated than Gawler’s. He stated that Eveleigh had started his Buffs career as a good soldier, but had degenerated particularly after facing his first court martial for absence without leave. Like Gawler, Eveleigh then disappeared on two separate occasions within a short space of time. On the first occasion he had been lectured on his behaviour and given Field Punishment Number Two. Less than three hours after this interview he had disappeared again. These actions led Nicholson to conclude that Eveleigh had ‘committed his fresh crime DELIBERATELY and with a full knowledge of what he was doing as I had so recently explained to him his position.’ (original emphasis)¹¹⁸ He ended his commentary by reiterating that the battalion’s disciplinary record was exemplary except for a spate of absences without leave and desertion charges, which must have influenced the decision to carry out the death sentence. Ross and Cavan agreed with the findings of the court and recommended execution of the sentence. Just two months later another Buffs soldier was executed, Private W. L. Thompson of the 6th Buffs. Thompson was accused of desertion after disappearing from his company as it wound through the communication trenches on a posting to the front line. Complaining that he was stuck in the mud, Thompson allowed the rest of the company to by-pass him and was then not seen again for eight days. The Company Quartermaster Sergeant (CQMS) who saw him loitering around the battalion transport and cookers apprehended him. This was not Thompson’s first offence; his record already contained punishments for absence without leave, ‘irregular conduct in billets’, theft, and of handling stolen goods. In his defence Thompson claimed that he was suffering from shellshock and had no clear impression of his actions. Further, in order to counteract his nervous condition he had been using a cocaine-based medicine for some time, and added that he had been unable to acquire a fresh prescription in the period immediately before his absence. Citing a medical reason which clearly implied not only a problem with nerves but also of chemical addiction might have made some impression on the court had not this supposedly shattered man then rather confidently asserted that his earlier court martial had been improperly conducted and had ignored military law. Taking such a combative attitude probably did not endear Thompson to the court, a conclusion reflected in the comments on the case. His brigadier, A. B. E. Cator, was unequivocal: This man has got a very bad character and is continually wilfully defying authority. The discipline of the Buffs is not up to the same standard as that in other battalions of this brigade. Pte Thompson has a bad influence on his comrades and is an agitator. I look upon him as a soldier who is no good either to his Regiment or his Country.

Cope, Thompson’s commanding officer, then explained his opinion on the case and emphasised his desire to use military law in an exemplary way: 3. My opinion based on that of his Coy Commander and his Platoon Commander was that the crime was not [heavily underlined in red ] deliberately committed with the sole object of avoiding his tour of duty in the trenches.

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4. My reason why I recommend that the extreme penalty be inflicted is in the interests of discipline, as being the only means of putting a stop to this form of crime.

Like Nicholson in the 16 IB, Cator and Cope were motivated by dual impulses. Both men saw Thompson as a bad character, although Cator took a harsher line, and both identified a more general disciplinary problem in the Buffs, which they believed could be curbed by setting an example. Major-General A. B. Scott then concurred with the judgements of his subordinates: ‘I am of the opinion that the extreme penalty should be carried out: I) the man is a bad character and has lately been convicted of an offence against the property of an inhabitant. II) In the interest of discipline an example should be made as this particular form of crime requires suppressing.’ It is important to note, however, that the proceedings, sentencing, and confirmation were robust. The Adjutant General and Judge Advocate General’s staffs clearly studied the case closely for the file is littered with marginal notes and comments. The DAAG First Army asked why the court martial took place on 4 April nearly a month after the offence. Cator responded by pointing out that the brigade had been in heavy action around the Hohenzollern Redoubt which then made it difficult to trace all witnesses and corroborate all statements. It had, therefore, taken a considerable time to put the case together and ensure that the correct procedures were followed.¹¹⁹ Discovering reasons for this spate of ill discipline within the 1st and 6th Buffs is not difficult. Both battalions had experienced extremely trying conditions in the winter of 1915–16. The 1st Buffs occupied a sector in the southern arc of the Ypres salient where, according to the 6 Division’s history, the trenches defied description.¹²⁰ A stream of despairing comments in the 1st Buffs war diary buttresses this judgement. The cases of trench foot spiralled, and the general health of the men suffered in the extreme wet. At one point D company was detached completely from the rest of the battalion due to the flooding of the trenches around its position.¹²¹ A similar situation was experienced in the 6th Buffs. Confined to the Hohenzollern Redoubt and Festubert sectors since its traumatic debut in action in October 1915, the battalion attempted to rebuild after its casualties at Loos while also combating appalling conditions in the trenches and an enemy prepared to contest every crater in no man’s land. Some idea of the condition of the trenches can be gained from the normally staid divisional history which stated that the situation ‘beggared description’; at one point reliefs took place at twenty-four hour intervals such was the strain on the troops.¹²² Under these difficult conditions discipline and morale was placed under great stress. The temptation to abscond obviously proved too much for some soldiers. Buffs officers appeared to recognise, and to a certain degree sympathise, with this temptation as they attempted to defend the reputations of at least certain soldiers. However, by the same token, they were also prepared to use military law to provide an example in order to restore authority and discipline. It is perhaps significant that during this stressful period Cotter

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gained his Victoria Cross. His example was certainly used as a propaganda tool across the battalions serving as a reminder of selfless devotion to duty. Possibly reflecting this restoration of pride, the fact that the BEF learnt from its experiences in the winter of 1915–16, and also improved its infrastructure in order to support troops on frontline duties, the Buffs’ disciplinary record improved somewhat and its fourth execution case did not arise until the autumn of 1917 when the Third Battle of Ypres was at its height. Private F. C. Gore of the 7th Buffs was accused of desertion after failing to accompany a party going up to the front line. It was not Gore’s first offence, and it represented his final collapse of discipline having undergone a general decline during 1917. In January he had been found guilty of an attempt to steal army stores for which he forfeited his good conduct badge and was condemned to Field Punishment Number Two. Three months later came his first instance of absence without leave which resulted in the loss of his lance-corporal’s stripe. Then, in July, he went missing again, and was found on the steps of a dugout held by a different battalion, and received Field Punishment Number One. At his trial Gore claimed that he was suffering from shellshock. He had spent some time in hospital in May 1917 seemingly receiving treatment for a nervous condition, but had complained of continuing symptoms when back with the battalion. Stating that he had been badly shaken up by shellfire in July he sought the help of the medical officer, but was examined by a stretcher-bearer instead who sent him back to his company. Unable to cope, and inefficiently treated by the military medical system, this soldier collapsed. His written statement makes extremely pathetic reading: For my defence I wish to make the following statement. The reason I deserted my battalion because I cannot stand the strain of the shell fire owing to the very bad state of my nerves. I have been to the Medical Officer and he said nothing could be done for me and I have always tryed [sic] to my best to carry out my duty. Before I came to France, where I have been for 15 month [sic], I was rejected for service abroard [sic] owing to my nerves. I am very sorry to think that this has happened after my 3 years in the service.

Interestingly, the paperwork surrounding this case is extremely brief and patchy, and unlike the earlier cases there is no evidence of debate or enquiry into the wider circumstances. Instead the file comes to a blunt end with the confirmation that sentence was carried out on 16 October 1917 at Poperinghe. ¹²³ As no hard medical evidence was demanded during the trial, questions can be asked about the way in which military law was implemented. But, as the most recent historians of British military executions Cathryn Corns and John Hughes-Wilson have noted, definitions of shellshock were still far from firm. In addition, battalion medical officers were often severely overworked and their first priority was the treatment of the physically injured leaving little time to spend on those reporting with nervous complaints.¹²⁴

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The final Buffs soldier to be executed was Private F. C. Butcher of the 7th Buffs in July 1918. Butcher had been found guilty of desertion and sentenced to death in June 1918, but his sentence was commuted to five years’ penal servitude which was suspended and under three-monthly review. It was, therefore, while under close scrutiny for his earlier offence that he absconded once again. Unlike the other cases studied, Butcher did not disappear as his unit moved up the line, but left the battalion while it was already in the line. At his court martial Butcher claimed that he was distracted by domestic troubles and stated that his father had died recently leaving the family with financial troubles, a fact stressed by the defence. It was probably a hopeless case, however, as the earlier crime must have fatally undermined Butcher’s position. Revealing a fairly even-handed approach, or a desire to avoid committing himself, Ransome made a bland and uninformative character assessment, but did venture the opinion that ‘in my opinion the crime was deliberately committed’. The Assistant Adjutant on the 18 Division staff was not satisfied and asked Ransome to clarify his position. Ransome hardly responded with great vigour for he merely reiterated that he had little idea of Butcher’s reputation as he had been transferred from the 8th Buffs and posted to his battalion only a month or so earlier. Conversely, Brigadier-General Wood was unambiguous and recommended execution of the sentence unequivocally ‘as this man has committed this crime before, and I consider that the crime was deliberately committed in this case.’ The higher authorities concurred with this judgement, and Butcher was duly executed on 27 August 1918.¹²⁵ These cases reveal that the Buffs suffered from some instances of poor morale and discipline, but little more than that. As the table in Appendix 1c proves, after the difficult period faced by the 1st and 6th Buffs during the winter of 1915–16, the battalions on the Western Front experienced no other periods of sustained ill discipline. In conclusion, relations between Buffs officers and men on the Western Front appear to have been remarkably smooth and strong. Discipline remained remarkably robust with its lowest point coming at a stage in the war when the BEF was struggling to make the transition to modern conflict between first class powers. The rotation of pre-war Regular officers among the battalions ensured the maintenance of regimental traditions, professionalism, and a sense of continuity even after heavy casualties. These officers appear to have accepted New Army officers with good grace, and even more remarkably given the strict pre-war delineation, absorbed former NCOs into their ranks equally willingly. As has been shown, the Buffs went a stage beyond many other regiments by retaining a large number of their own NCOs after they had been commissioned. This move was a further significant factor in the creation of continuity and cohesion within the battalions. Turning to the other ranks of the various battalions it is possible to see that geographical cohesion of a sort remained. The 1st and 6th Buffs were solidly East Kent at the start of the war, with the 7th following closely behind, while the 8th contained a significant admixture of

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men from the south-eastern region. As the war progressed the number of south-easterners increased, which watered down the East Kent connection, but never served to sever the link completely. The Buffs survived on the Western Front thanks to a combination of innovation, and a carefully engineered programme of cross posting and promotion from its original, Regular ranks. NOTES 1. See, for example, G. D. Sheffield, Leadership in the Trenches: Officer–Man Relations, Morale and Discipline in the British Army in the Era of the First World War (Basingstoke: Macmillan, 2000) 179. 2. Ibid., 29–40. 3. See, for example, the article on Major Finch Hatton’s wedding, Dragon, Jan. 1912, 1. 4. Ibid., June 1922, 196. 5. War Dragon, June 1916, 4; Dragon, July 1922, 204. Wartime issues of the regimental journal were given the title, War Dragon. 6. For an assessment of the Cardwell and Haldane army reforms see Edward Spiers, ‘The Late Victorian Army 1868–1914’, in David Chandler and Ian Beckett (eds.), The Oxford History of the British Army (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1994) 187–210. 7. Brigadier-General R. A. McDouall, To the Subalterns of the Buffs (privately printed memoir, 1926). 8. See numerous pre-war editions of Dragon. 9. See, for example, Dragon, April 1914, 15. 10. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 7 Aug. 1914. 11. War Dragon, July 1916, 11. 12. R. S. H. Moody, Historical Records of the Buffs, East Kent Regiment 1914–1918 (London: Medici Society, 1922), 73–4. 13. Kentish Gazette and Canterbury Press, 27 Feb. 1915. Hereafter known as Kentish Gazette. 14. Moody, Historical Records, 74–5. 15. Peter Simkins, Kitchener’s Army: The Raising of the New Armies, 1914–1916 (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1988), 112. 16. See Brock Millman, Pessimism and British War Policy, 1916–1918 (London: Frank Cass, 2001). 17. Kentish Gazette, 5 Sept. 1914. 18. Moody, Historical Records, 66–7; Kentish Gazette, 19 Sept. 1914. 19. See Alan Armstrong, ‘Kentish Rural Society during the First World War’ in B. A. Holderness and M. Turner (eds.), Land, Labour and Agriculture, 1700–1920 (London: Hambledon, 1991), 109–31; Ian Beckett, ‘The Territorial Force’ in I. F. W. Beckett and Keith Simpson (eds.), A Nation in Arms: A Social Study of the British Army in the First World War (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1985), 127–64. 20. Kentish Gazette, 19 Sept. 1914. 21. IWM Department of Documents. Memoir of Lance Corporal Horace Reid, 8th Buffs, typewritten, 1–13. The piece was written in 1963. 22. IWM Department of Documents. 99/56/1 Diary of Private C. R. Smith, 7th Buffs, handwritten, appears to have been written up from notes in July 1917.

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23. Peter Mealyer and Colin Hague (eds.), ‘Jimmy Carpenter’s War Diary’, Stand To! The Journal of the Western Front Association, 72 (Jan. 2005), 15–18. 24. Michael Rawcliffe, ‘Population’, Alan Booth, ‘The Economy of Kent: An Overview’, in Nigel Yates (ed.), Kent in the Twentieth Century (Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2001), 1–26, 27–58. 25. IWM Department of Documents. 129 Con Shelf Robert Cude’s Diary. Cude made typed versions of his handwritten diaries in November 1921. By that stage he had lost his diaries covering August 1914, and so added a set of notes composed from memory. 26. For good examples see Kentish Gazette, 12, 19 Sept.; 30 Jan.; 6, 13, 27 Feb.; 6, 13, 20, 27 March; 3, 24 April; 1, 8, 15, 29 May; 5 June 1915. 27. For a study of the Pals battalion phenomenon see Simkins, Kitchener’s Army, 79–103. 28. See War Dragon, Aug. 1916, 9. 29. Information drawn from Soldiers and Officers Died in the Great War (Sussex: CDRom, Army and Navy Press, 1998). 30. For more details on this subject see Simkins, Kitchener’s Army, 31–78. 31. IWM 129 Con Shelf Cude diary, Aug.–Sept. 1914. 32. IWM Reid memoir, 1–13. 33. War Dragon, Aug. 1916, 11. 34. IWM 129 Con Shelf Cude diary, 11 Sept. 1914. 35. Carpenter diary, Stand To!, 16. 36. IWM 129 Con Shelf Cude Diary, 15 Sept. 1914. 37. War Dragon, Aug. 1916, 11; Moody, Historical Records, 70, 76. 38. War Dragon, Aug. 1916, 11. 39. IWM Reid memoir, 1–13. 40. NAM 7904-71 Diary of Sergeant A. G. Beer, 3rd Buffs, 28 Feb., 8 Sept. 1915. 41. IWM 99/56/1 Smith Diary, 18 July 1915. 42. IWM Reid memoir, 18. 43. Carpenter diary, Stand To!, 17. 44. IWM 99/56/1 Smith Diary, 18 July 1915. 45. IWM Reid memoir, 16, 28. 46. NAM 7904-71 Diary of Sergeant A. G. Beer, 3rd Buffs, 5 March 1915. 47. Carpenter diary, Stand To!, 17; IWM Reid memoir, 25. 48. IWM 129 Con Shelf Cude Diary, Aug.–Sept. 1914. 49. War Dragon, Aug. 1916, 11. 50. Carpenter diary, Stand To!, 16. 51. War Dragon, Aug. 1916, 11; Moody, Historical Records, 69–70; J. E. Edmonds, Military Operations France and Belgium, 1915, Vol. 2 (London: Macmillan, 1928), 294. 52. For a general account of training regimes at this time see Simkins, Kitchener’s Army, 296–320. 53. IWM Reid memoir, 25–7; Carpenter diary, Stand To!, 17. 54. The Diary of Wilfrid Saxby Barham Captain, ‘The Buffs’, during the Great War 1914–1915 Fermoy–Dover–Armentières–Ypres (London: printed for private circulation by R. E. Thomas & Co., 1918), 31. 55. Ibid., 33. 56. NAM 7904-71 Diary of Sergeant A. G. Beer, 3rd Buffs, 12 Feb. 1915. 57. See John Baynes, Far From a Donkey: The Life of General Sir Ivor Maxse (London: Brasseys, 1995), 122–33; the two other divisional commanders were Major-General

Officers and Men

58. 59. 60. 61. 62. 63. 64. 65. 66. 67. 68. 69. 70.

71. 72. 73. 74. 75. 76. 77. 78. 79. 80. 81. 82. 83. 84. 85. 86. 87. 88.

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James Spens (brother of a former Buffs officer), 12 Division, who had retired in 1914 and was rapidly reappointed, and Major-General Sir J. G. Ramsay, a retired Indian Army officer. Moody, Historical Records, 75–6. War Dragon, April 1917, 7. Details taken from War Dragon, Moody, Historical Records, and Commonwealth War Graves Commission records. NAM 2002-02-913 Lieutenant Eric Foster Hall MC Diary, 7 Sept. 1914–27 May 1919, introductory note. Details drawn from War Dragon. Ibid., Aug. 1916, 18. Ibid., Sept. 1916, 6. William Cory & Son Ltd., Roll of Honour, Dec. 1917; Commonwealth War Graves Commission records. Carpenter diary, Stand To!, 16. Ibid., 18. IWM Reid memoir, 16, 24. Information drawn from war diaries, Dragon, War Dragon, and Moody, Historical Records. Two former NCOs were killed while serving as officers with the 1st Buffs, Lieutenant T. H. Kesby, the first member of his family to reach officer status, in September 1916, and Second Lieutenant H. Sayer in October 1915. One, Second Lieutenant T. F. Harrington, was captured during a raid in the spring of 1917 and made a prisoner of war. Information drawn from war diaries, Dragon, War Dragon, and the Army List 1914–19. Diary of Wilfrid Saxby Barham, 109, 144, 290. Information drawn from Dragon, War Dragon, and Moody, Historical Records. Figure given in Sheffield, Leadership in the Trenches, 91. NAM 2001-07-339 Lieutenant-Colonel W. A. Eaton to Mr Hamilton Greig, 25 Oct. 1915. NAM 2001-10-94 Papers relating to Major A. C. L. Nicholson. Letter from A. L. Ransome dated 6 May 1918. Ibid., dated 15 Sept. 1918. Diary of Wilfrid Saxby Barham, 1. Ibid., 42. Ibid., 54. Ibid., 236, 252. Ibid., 97. Ibid., viii. Ibid., 63. NAM 2002-02-913 Foster Hall diary, 12 March 1916; 9 Feb. 1917. Dragon, Nov. 1922, 376. NAM 2001-11-62 Papers relating to Second Lieutenant A. F. Worster. Letter from Major Bernard Strauss dated 23 Nov. 1917. Strauss was himself killed just a few days later during the great German counter-attack at Cambrai. NAM 2002-02-913 Foster Hall diary, introductory note. IWM Department of Documents, Diary of Second Lieutenant W. R. Taylor, 6th Buffs, 14 Sept. 1916.

38 89. 90. 91. 92. 93. 94. 95. 96. 97. 98. 99. 100. 101. 102. 103. 104. 105. 106. 107. 108. 109. 110. 111. 112. 113. 114. 115. 116. 117. 118. 119. 120. 121. 122. 123.

Officers and Men Diary of Wilfrid Saxby Barham, 38. Ibid., 51, 61. Ibid., 144. Ibid., 230. Ibid., 288. Ibid., 82. IWM 129 Con Shelf Cude diary, 16 Sept. 1915. IWM 99/56/1 Smith diary, 3 Sept. 1916. IWM Reid memoir, 40. Ibid., 53. IWM 99/56/1 Smith diary, 1 May 1917. Ibid., 5 Sept. 1916. Ibid. Ibid., 29 Nov. 1916. Ibid., 1 Dec. 1916. Ibid., inside back cover. NAM 2001-02-389-1 Diary of Corporal Charles Brain, 13 Oct. 1918. IWM 99/56/1 Smith diary, introductory note. IWM 129 Con Shelf Cude diary, 1 July 1916. Ibid., 23 Jan. 1918. Ibid., 13 Oct. 1918. Ibid., 11 Nov. 1918. Ibid., 7 Dec. 1915. Ibid., 3 May 1916. Ibid., 17 Feb. 1917. Ibid., 21 March 1918. Soldiers and Officers Died CD-Rom. Cathryn Corns and John Hughes-Wilson, Blindfold and Alone: British Military Executions in the Great War (London: Cassel & Co, 2001), 103–4. WO 71/448 Court Martial record Private R. Gawler. Gawler was from a very poor background having been an inmate of Canterbury workhouse, see Kentish Gazette, 2 Jan. 1915. His brother, who also served in the Buffs, died in October 1918. WO 71/449 Court Martial record Private A. Eveleigh. WO 71/7547 Court Martial record Private W. L. Thompson. Major-General T. O. Marden, A Short History of the Sixth Division, August 1914–March 1919 (London: Hugh Rees, 1920) 15. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 9 Nov., 15, 24 Dec. 1915. Major-General Sir Arthur B. Scott (ed.), P. Middleton Brumwell (compiler), The History of the 12th (Eastern) Division in the Great War, 1914–1918 (London: Nisbit & Co. Ltd., 1923) 29. WO 71/609 Court Martial record Private Frederick Coutts Gore. The term shellshock occurs infrequently in the Buffs records reflecting the ambiguities over the condition then prevalent in the BEF. The war diaries use the term on only four occasions, and each example relates to an officer: Second Lieutenant G. W. Kingham was evacuated from the line 1 Dec. 1916 (WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 1 Dec. 1916), and it represents the first time this term was used in the 1st Buffs diary. Captain Hobbes of the 7th Buffs was found suffering from ‘severe shock’ after being buried

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by an explosion (WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, 1 Sept. 1915). The two other references also refer to 7th Buffs officers: Lieutenant Whifield (WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, 18, 21 March 1916), and Second Lieutenant W. E. Oakley (WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, 1 Oct. 1916). Eric Foster Hall’s diary also provides the significant detail that Major A. P. H. Trueman was removed from command of 8th Buffs because he was suffering from the condition, NAM 2002-02-913 Foster Hall diary, 15 Feb. 1916. 124. Corns and Hughes-Wilson, Blindfold and Alone, 68–71, 308–24. 125. WO 71/664 Court Martial record Private F. C. Butcher.

2 Shock, 1914 The 1st Buffs crossed to the port of St Nazaire in north-western France on 8 September 1914 as part of the 6 (Regular) Division. The division was entrained immediately and despatched to Mortcerf from where it began a long march to the heights commanding the River Aisne. On embarkation the battalion contained 30 officers and 981 OR including 554 reservists who had been hurriedly recalled to the Colours in early August.¹ Most of the officers and men were well-seasoned troops with many years’ service behind them which included rigorous training in certain key skills. The training regime the battalion had been exposed to in the years immediately before the war was devised to meet the army’s understanding of future combat. In order to ascertain how well the 1st Buffs was prepared for action on the Western Front in 1914 it is therefore necessary to establish the philosophy underpinning and shaping army training in the decade before the war broke out. Some historians and commentators, such as Tim Travers, Shelford Bidwell, and Dominick Graham, have found much to lament in the British army’s apparent lack of an intellectual response to the challenges of modern war in the years before 1914, and its inability to produce a cohesive doctrine.² However, these theses fail to appreciate the cultural-intellectual atmosphere of Edwardian and Georgian Britain. Britain was essentially an empiricist nation with a deep distrust of doctrine for it appeared to translate all too easily into dogma, a concept antithetical to a nation built on liberal-individualist ethics. British educational and intellectual systems were based on observation of phenomena and the drawing of lessons from those observations, which could be translated into general principles rather than binding rules. The British army was a microcosm of the nation, and therefore any perceived failure in the army must be levelled against the nation as a whole.³ The experience of the South African Wars had taught the British army a number of lessons, in particular the need to use ground intelligently, to maintain manoeuvrability both while under fire and delivering it, and to consider the benefits of indirect artillery fire. Hardy Boer farmers, well versed in the use of their weapons, able to ‘read’ the country and unfettered by any great sense of formal military history, had caused the British army a number of difficulties; the experience left the army with a determination to address these issues. Buttressed by observations on the Russo-Japanese war, a host of thoughts spilt out on the subject of modern

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warfare. The Staff College, the Royal United Services Institute, the Royal Military Academy, the Royal Military College, and the School of Musketry all turned their attention to the problems created by modern weapons. One of the most influential responses was a book by a Captain of Royal Engineers, Ernest Swinton, The Defence of Duffer’s Drift, published in 1903, which explored the defence of an imaginary ford on a South African river. Rather than simply mass the defenders to counter the Boer threat, Swinton, or ‘Backsight Forethought’ to use his nom de plume, advocated the deployment of a number of inter-locking fields of fire. This provided weight and effectiveness but via diffused and therefore less vulnerable means. It was a strategy made possible by rapid firing rifles and smokeless ammunition, but demanded discipline, resolution and an intelligent appreciation of the landscape. Such thoughts percolated through the army and eventually made an impact on every rank. The relatively new General Staff of the army was given the task of translating the many thoughts on modern war into army doctrine. Battles were divided into three distinct phases: first, the preparation and wearing down of the enemy reserves, second, the decisive offensive causing the destruction of the enemy position, and then the exploitation leading to a fatal lack of balance within the enemy ranks. Distilled into Field Service Regulations and a host of manuals, the Staff laid down principles for the translation of this philosophy into assault tactics and in the process broadly expressed the common thinking of the army. The devil, as will be shown, lay in the detail. ‘Fire and movement’ tactics in which the infantry attempted to suppress the enemy with their own fire as much as possible became the central concept behind the assault. Covered by fire, the infantry was instructed to work forward in leaps and bounds until within a position to concentrate its fire on the enemy. Then, once the enemy had been sufficiently impaired, the decisive assault with the bayonet was to be launched. Within the army there was some variation of thought on precise practice. Some believed the decisive assault phase should be sought quickly and advocated a succession of waves to suppress the enemy, while others believed in stealth and cunning, arguing for a very slow ‘stalking’ of the enemy making sparing use of fire until an advantageous firing position was gained. The waves thesis did tend to contradict the ‘empty battlefield’ discussed in Duffer’s Drift, but both approaches were fully informed by the devastating reality of modern weapons. However, as Paddy Griffith has pointed out, the concepts of stalking, fieldcraft manoeuvres, and waves were not completely incompatible fellows. On the battlefield, the skill of careful fire and movement was often the preliminary to the assembly of the final, extended firing line, or wave, required to overwhelm a position. The real problem lay in the ambiguities of the system—no one was quite sure how the dispersed, methodical approach meshed with the more direct, frontal assault version.⁴ Those who believed in the quick decision looked to the French system. The French army took little notice of Manchuria and stubbornly held to the idea of direct fire supplied by their famous 75mm breach-loading, quick-firing guns. The Republican ethos, which successive

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French governments were anxious to imbed in the army, then espoused the idea of an ideologically charged soldier who would advance regardless of the situation. Although probably dubious of these ‘political’ motivations, the British ‘thrusters’, including the future Commander-in-Chief of the British Expeditionary Force, Sir Douglas Haig, and his future Chief of General Staff, Sir Launcelot Kiggell, were attracted to this idea of direct fire and continual movement towards the decisive attack. Further complicating this issue was the unsure grasp on the effective co-ordination of direct and indirect fire.⁵ On the surface infantrymen and gunners were linked by a common professional vocabulary; at a deeper level they were divided by differing definitions. Manchuria had taught the Royal Artillery that indirect fire was more effective than direct. The drawback of this method was that it would tend to slow the tempo of an assault and make it more ‘mechanical’. The infantry drew a rather different lesson from the conflict, feeling that a decision could be reached only if the infantry closed quickly and forced the issue. Matters were complicated still further by differing shades of interpretation within the infantry. Some took a rather precautionary view and believed that modern weapons had made it impossible to advance in the open without much heavier fire support from both their own weapons and the artillery. Others believed that the desire to achieve full fire superiority before launching the decisive attack caused the tempo of the assault to slacken to nothing and feared that once troops had gone to ground they would not get up again. In addition, no one in the infantry was quite sure what the different phases of battle actually meant, and the definition of ‘fire superiority’ caused particular problems, a point made at the time by Lieutenant-Colonel N. R. McMahon, former Chief Inspector of the School of Musketry at Hythe. A particular difficulty created by this lack of definition was the inability to identify the tactical value of a target or position. Should it be captured simply to suppress the enemy’s fire, or should it be taken to facilitate the more effective use of the army’s combined firepower against targets of greater value? According to Bidwell and Graham, the former, essentially negative, rationale often formed the basis of the assault rather than the latter positive version.⁶ Divided by contradictory ideas, the army’s doctrine was, in fact, a loose collection of ideas open to local interpretation and variation. Driven by the common understanding that fire superiority and decisiveness of manoeuvre and action were vital, but unable to agree a common doctrine and set of definitions by long-standing divisions, each service within the army developed its own understanding of these issues. The artillery therefore got on with the job of procuring better and bigger guns, but spoke little to the infantry about its ideas on direct and indirect fire. In the infantry it translated into an extreme reverence for marksmanship and rapid fire. For the British army, and the infantry in particular, restricted by finances and an extreme reluctance to accept any form of national service, the best way to match numerically stronger enemies was by disciplined, accurate, and rapid rifle fire. Rapid fire was seen as the answer to numerous tactical problems: it could provide effective defence against a massing enemy; it could

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cover the manoeuvres of troops on the battlefield and then merge with the bayonet into the decisive assault. There was an inevitable tension, however, between marksmanship and rapidity and weight of fire. Trials were conducted at the School of Musketry in order to ascertain the best ratio between rate and accuracy of fire. The rapid rate was set at twelve to fifteen rounds a minute at 300 yards after a trial in which 100 elite marksmen were silenced by 150 second-class shots: a too obsessive care with accuracy clearly did not make up for weight of numbers. Further trials between 1910 and 1912 with the new Short Lee Enfield rifle and the new lighter Vickers machine gun provided further emphasis for the need to maintain a fine balance between accuracy and sheer weight of fire. Given the obvious dangers of attacking an enemy using such firepower in return, the infantry pondered the best way of maintaining the momentum of an attack. Exercises were taking a worrying turn, as umpires noted the length of time attacking infantrymen spent prone sparring for fire superiority before launching the decisive attack. McMahon urged the adoption of light machine guns as an answer to the problem at the 1910 General Staff conference, arguing that the narrow-front covering fire provided by these guns would release men for forward movement. At the same time debates were continuing on the use of the heavy machine gun. The general consensus was that they were useful and that there should be two per battalion. Writing in the 1920s the British official historian (Sir James Edmonds) claimed that pre-war government parsimony had forced the army to abandon plans for six guns per battalion, but this was a rather disingenuous statement for the army was by no means completely clear as to the necessity of such a move, or the tactical use to which the guns would be put.⁷ Those who disagreed with this mechanised answer to the problem saw it as one of psychology, morale, and discipline. Each man had to be indoctrinated into a psychological mould driven by imperatives that can appear contradictory: at one and the same moment a soldier had to be instantly, unthinkingly responsive to orders, while also mentally alert and spiritually aggressive. This combination would provide the will to cross the battlefield and close with the enemy, and was eventually encapsulated in the phrase, ‘the spirit of the bayonet’.⁸ Kiggell and the Chief of the Imperial General Staff, Sir William Nicholson, were high profile advocates of this approach to the modern battlefield. Both men were concerned by the increasingly slack tempo shown in manoeuvres, where, in their opinion, the attacking infantry spent too long trying to shoot the enemy out of its positions before the final assault. Their reading of the experiences of Manchuria and army manoeuvres insisted that decision was reached by resolute forward movement regardless of casualties. Thus traditional qualities of discipline, ‘spit and polish’, and drill were still very much prized. Sir Ian Hamilton, a veteran of South Africa and observer of the RussoJapanese War, noted that: ‘South African and Manchurian experiences equally tend to show that men who are smart on parade are more alert, more readily controlled, more obedient, and move more rapidly and with less tendency to confusion or panic than troops which depend entirely on their individual qualities.’⁹

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Whatever the contemporary deficiencies and debates about the army’s rather woolly terminology, there were at least some clear principles underpinning British military practice as understood by the men who were to lead it during the Great War. Both Sir John French and Sir Douglas Haig built their philosophy of war around simple and definite ideas. Both men believed in direct fire and the direct assault, they believed in high tempo operations pushed home firmly with the bayonet. To a certain extent this made the best of a bad lot—the army had too many tasks at hand, not enough cash, and few governments had the appetite to really direct it or reorganise it. Haig’s vision was, however, limited, and crucially, although he understood that the will to go forward was the toughest to communicate and achieve, he did not respond to McMahon’s call for increased firepower to facilitate such a development because he had a human-centred understanding of battle. If firepower was available, he believed, it might become a crutch and the infantry might never move with decision if it considered itself lacking this support. (During the war Haig rather gave up this position for the opposite one of huge bombardments intended to pave the way for decisive forward movement.) Such concepts suited the first encounter battles in which battalions and brigades would have to react quickly, but they were less effective at achieving the other stages of battle he had identified—the need to concentrate force effectively, the wearing-out struggle, and the breakthrough and breakout.¹⁰ But how did these high-level debates translate into actual procedure and action as practiced by the 1st Buffs from day to day? Obtaining details of pre-war training within the battalion is difficult due to the paucity of records, but the regimental magazine provides significant clues and hints. In May 1905 Major H. C. de la M. Hill, commander of the battalion in August 1914, took the battalion to Lydd for the South East District Rifle Meeting. His keen interest in musketry paid off for E Company took the General’s Cup with H Company second and D fourth from the thirty-two teams entered. Bandsman Walpole of D Company won the School of Musketry cup and Colour Sergeant Hughes took first place in the 600 yards Rapid [Fire] Competition. ‘The course being entirely different from any previous years was rather a novelty, still notwithstanding its drawback we pulled through.’ Two months later Hill was back at Lydd with E Company to trial the new short 303 rifle.¹¹ In July 1911, the battalion took pride in the fact that 114 men were classified first class shots at Musketry Camp. The following summer the battalion took part in the All Ireland Army Rifle meeting. Prizes were obtained in ten matches and match eleven was dominated by the Buffs as they took four prizes. The successes were regarded as particularly creditable in the light of the fact that musketry examinations had undergone a rigorous shake-up: There were many instructive and interesting competitions, a notable feature of which was the vast alteration made in the conditions compared with meetings of a few years ago. The matches have been brought quite up to date to suit present-day requirements making us fit for the field. Greater prominence than ever was given to team firing, under control of a fireunit leader, disappearing silhouette targets being largely in evidence.¹²

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The regiment’s musketry skills might well have been connected to its unique geographical position. With its Depot in Canterbury, a mere fifteen or so miles from the School of Musketry at Hythe, large numbers of Depot-based officers and men visited the school on a regular basis. Perhaps the regiment used this close connection to monitor the latest thinking in small arms training and tactics.¹³ The 1st Buffs also spent much time working on the rifle’s vital ancillary, the bayonet. Bayonet fighting competitions were held regularly both at an inter-company level and between battalions. In June 1911, the battalion beat the 2nd Wiltshire battalion in the final of a regimental competition, and a year later it won the Brigade cup and followed it up with a further victory over the 2nd West Riding battalion. However, there were serious difficulties to overcome. As many historians have pointed out, the welter of duties and responsibilities placed on the army severely curtailed the opportunities for training.¹⁴ Arrangements for training could also fall short of expectations as is revealed in an article on 3rd Buffs training: As a place for training nothing could be better, but the whole thing was spoilt by the range. Ye gods, what a place to waste ammunition on! In the first place, it is a civilian affair, and contains but four targets, which was bad enough, but added to this, when the colliery was not belching forth mirky volumes of smoke, the miners and various other civilians took the opportunity to wander about in front of the targets, so that when the atmosphere was not thick with smoke it was fairly opaque with the language of the officer who was vainly trying to put his company through, and had probably to stop in the middle of a rapid practise. So shooting occupied nearly the whole time, to the detriment of regimental training and the advantage of the Government in the matter of proficiency pay.¹⁵

In 1911, Divisional manoeuvres were cancelled due to the railway strike, and a year later they were cancelled again thanks to a foot and mouth disease outbreak.¹⁶ The difficulties involved in creating and executing a worthwhile training regime were highlighted in an article purporting to be a secret War Office directive, but the wry humour and nature of the piece actually serves to reveal just how seriously training was taken: . . . It has been noticed that parades, route-marches, field days etc, have been constantly, if not daily, postponed or cancelled on account of the English climate. Officers must bear in mind that, although manoeuvre areas, training grounds, and range accommodation are entirely inadequate in this country, we are in possession of an unequalled climate for training under service conditions. Every advantage must be taken of this, and the following examples are quoted as a guide for future training. Musketry instruction at such places as Lydd during the bleak cold months of February and March is to be highly commended. Every advantage must be taken of fogs for the practice of night attacks . . . Snowstorms afford an admirable opportunity for the practice of ‘judging distance’. An addenda will shortly be made in the Drill Book pointing out whether the object appears closer than it really is under these conditions. Valuable tests will be carried out at Hythe in this respect as soon as a fit opportunity occurs.

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Westerly and north-westerly gales should be employed for practice in ‘judging distance’ by sound. Up to date it has not yet been found possible to gauge accurately the rate of travel by sound in the teeth of a gale of, say, 90 miles per hour. Officers should obtain possession of suitable stop-watches for the execution of this practice . . .¹⁷

The BEF’s sense of humour was probably just as useful in battle as its training regimes. In August 1914, the battalion was stationed at Fermoy in Ireland, and was part of the 16 IB in the 6 Division. Its mobilisation orders instructed the battalion to move to Cambridge, which it did on 12 August where it spent the next month. The outbreak of war gave Lieutenant-Colonel Hill a reprieve. Aged fifty when war broke out, Hill was on the verge of retirement and had indeed celebrated this fact by attending a farewell dinner with his officers on 2 August.¹⁸ A former Buff, E. C. Ingouville Williams, was placed in charge of the 16 IB and thus found himself in command of old comrades.¹⁹ Along with the rest of the 6 Division, the Buffs were kept in Britain largely to ensure that Ireland did not erupt into German-inspired anarchy and to stiffen the Territorial Force defending Britain against any threatened invasion. This period of relative calm proved extremely useful for it allowed time to bring the Reservists up to standard, as ‘their physical condition had somewhat deteriorated during a long spell of civil life.’²⁰ The Expeditionary Force the Buffs were about to reinforce was in a rather odd position. Committed, albeit without formal treaty or obligation, to assist the French army by taking up a position on its left, its status was somewhat ambiguous. Nominally, the BEF was an independent force and yet its lack of numbers and heavy firepower meant that its ability to act as a true equal of its ally, or its enemy for that matter, was limited indeed. Whether he liked it or not Sir John French, Commander-in-Chief of the BEF, was, therefore, heavily constrained and to a certain extent forced to conform to French direction. Additionally, this lack of true independence meant that any great change in French fortunes was bound to have a marked influence on his own command.²¹ When the battalion reached France, the BEF had already been involved in some desperate actions starting with an engagement at Mons on 23 August. Historians are still not quite sure whether the battle represents a significant action by the BEF or an almost accidental encounter. What is certain is that the BEF was forced to retreat along with its French allies. Falling back rapidly and under constant German harassment, the BEF looked as if it might be split up and defeated in detail. In order to forestall such confusion, General Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien of II Corps fought the Germans at Le Cateau on 26 August, and inflicted another bloody muzzle on them, thanks to the disciplined fire and bravery of his infantry and gunners. Following this action the retreat was resumed until 5 September when the BEF took up a line some fifteen miles south-east of Paris. General Galliéni, the Military Governor of Paris, was then informed that the German army was exposing its right flank along the River Marne. Realising that this was the moment to return to the offensive, Marshal Joffre, Commander-in-Chief of

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the French forces, ordered the Allied armies forward to launch a counter-attack on 6 September. Advancing into a gap between the German First and Second Armies on 8 September, the BEF caused some panic and alarm in German ranks which resulted in a wholesale German retreat. The Battle of the Marne was more a series of manoeuvres and engagements by the British and French than a coherent whole, but it had the desired effect. Suddenly the Allies were on the advance again as the Germans scuttled back towards the Aisne. Exhausted and lacking the supplies to pursue the Germans more vigorously, the Allies advanced rather slowly and reached the Aisne only on the night of 11/12 September in pouring rain. The Germans had chosen a good defensive position for the heights on the north bank reached some 300 feet, and in places the river was 200 feet wide and very difficult to ford. Any attacks by the British and French would have to be made down steep, wooded ravines before advancing across the exposed valley bottom towards the river. It was somewhat surprising, therefore, that both the British and French managed to make fairly easy initial crossings over the Aisne before the Germans put up a tougher resistance. To drive the Allies from their newly won positions on the north bank the Germans commenced a series of deliberate assaults. Desperate for protection and ordered to hold every piece of ground, both sides started to dig trenches, thus initiating a process which eventually resulted in a line of entrenchments running from the Channel coast to Switzerland. It was at this point that the Buffs and the 6 Division entered the struggle.²² On 21 September the 1st Buffs made their debut on the Western Front by relieving the 1st R. Fusiliers with A, C, and D companies, while B company remained in reserve in the village of Vailly. The battalion positions formed the left of the brigade line on the crest of a small plateau. Finding a rag-tag collection of 1st Norfolk and 1st KSLI on the right, Colonel Hasler, who, but for the outbreak of hostilities would have replaced Hill in August, took over command of the entire front. Hasler’s quick appreciation of the situation proved most significant for the Germans attacked at 8 p.m. that evening. The artillery found it hard to cover the ground, forcing the Buffs to rely upon their own rapid fire which proved equal to the situation and drove off the German attack. During the course of the action Major Finch Hatton and Captain Studd were wounded, revealing an immediate and abiding lesson of operations on the Western Front, the vulnerability of officers who were expected to lead from the front and set an example.²³ The 16 IB was then detached from III Corps and 6 Division control and left on the Aisne until 13 October when it was relieved by the French, by which point the rest of the Division had been ordered towards Bailleul having detrained at St Omer. In order to get out of Vailly unnoticed by the Germans, the Buffs delved into their stock of knowledge and covered the pontoon bridges and the transport wheels with straw.²⁴ The 1st Buffs rejoined the 6 Division on 16 October when it began moving towards Erquinghem near the Franco-Belgian border. On 17 October, the 6 Division took up positions on the Bois Grenier-Chapelle

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d’Armentières line and was ordered to push one brigade into Armentières itself if possible. The Division made good progress and met little opposition and at noon it was ordered to occupy a position Rouge de Bout–Bois Grenier–Chapelle d’Armentières with its left resting on Armentières. It achieved this and put its three brigades into line. The 6 Division was playing a part in a wider series of movements and counter-movements in which each side was probing for the flank of the other with the intention of using the advantage to force the enemy onto the back foot.²⁵ Ordered to advance from Armentières down the Lys valley, General Pulteney (III Corps) decided to force the enemy from the Pérenchies ridge in order to clear his right. He therefore ordered the 6 Division to push the enemy back from La Vallée to Pérenchies. On 18 October the 18 IB attacked La Vallée-Paradis (just south of Prémesques) and the 17 IB the Prémesques–Pérenchies line, while the 16 IB was called on to cover the right near the settlements at Hameau de Bas and Bacquart north of Radinghem with the eventual intention of wheeling north east in order to turn the enemy’s flank from the south. As part of these operations the 1st Buffs, which had arrived at Grande Flamengrie Farm at 10 a.m., was ‘ordered to clear up situation but not to become seriously engaged with the enemy—line

Bacquart Line 2nd York and Lancs and 1st Buffs originally ordered to establish

1st Buffs

Line established Evening 18th October

Radinghem Bontems

Chateau de Flandre

Map 1. Radinghem Chateau, 18 October 1914, 1st Buffs.

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Hau–De Bas–Vallée.’²⁶ This line was secured at 2.20 p.m., but it was a far from quiet spot and the 1st Buffs reported ‘very heavy fire’.²⁷ The main trouble spot was proving to be the village of Radinghem and the Chateau de Flandre standing on the high ground just south of the village; the battalion was about to commence its first major assignment of the war.²⁸ Hasler took command of the firing line which advanced through the village and captured the Chateau in a move later described by Major-General Marden as a ‘brilliant reconnaissance in force’.²⁹ Revealing the high state of training and initiative in the battalion’s NCOs, CSM Brady took charge of nineteen men of C company and supervised the defence of the chateau against a dense mass of Germans advancing in close order. Each soldier was carrying 300 rounds of ammunition ‘and one of the most beautiful displays of rapid firing ever made was the result’.³⁰ The defence of the chateau was then assisted by the arrival of a company of the 2nd York and Lancs. After successfully holding the chateau against another German assault, the Buffs were ordered to hand over the village to a French cavalry detachment. When these troops arrived, they were found to be so few that the Buffs and 2nd York and Lancs decided to remain in place. By nightfall the Division’s line formed a rough bow bent back at both edges running from Radinghem through Ennetières to Présmesques before bending back again at Epinette. The next day, 19 October, the Buffs managed to make contact with the 18 IB at the railway crossing east of Bas Champs. At 3 p.m., orders came for the 16 IB to withdraw to Bois Grenier, these orders did not affect the Buffs, however, as they were detailed to remain in occupation of Radinghem. Holding a position originally held by five companies was always going to be a tricky task, and so it proved when the Germans attacked the next day. The battalion left rested on the 18 IB, but communications broke down with both it and the French in quick succession, and then the 18 IB was overwhelmed leaving the Buffs’ flank in the air. In the early afternoon Hasler was wounded and command devolved onto Major McDouall.³¹ At 3.35 p.m. and 4 p.m. McDouall reported that he was holding on, but that he had lost his machine guns and was in ‘a tight corner’.³² He abandoned the chateau and established barricades in the middle of the village using men of the headquarters party. McDouall then received contradictory orders. Originally told to retire by companies, he was then instructed to hold fast until relieved by the 2nd York and Lancs. McDouall appears to have kept to his original orders and organised a slow retreat with the intention of stalling the enemy for as long as possible. When the 2nd York and Lancs arrived at 7 p.m. this plan became much easier to put into action, but Ingouville Williams then wanted the southern boundary of the village held, seemingly unaware that both flanks were in the air. However, a divisional staff officer who was present overruled this idea and ordered the retirement of the Buffs, which continued without trouble as the enemy ‘was not enterprising and appeared to have had enough of the battalion’.³³ During the course of the day the brigade had been preparing entrenched positions near Bois Grenier, and the whole division now conformed to a general

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retirement to new trenches which shortened the line considerably.³⁴ The battalion was then given a couple of days in billets, but on 23 October, the first day of the First Battle of Ypres, was ordered to assist the 1st KSLI and 2nd York and Lancs repulse a heavy German attack on their trenches. Lieutenant G. R. Thornhill and A and C companies supported the 1st KSLI in holding ground on the Touquet–La Boutillerie road as a gap appeared to open near Bridoux, and, as the war diary makes clear, free use was made of the bayonet during this action.³⁵ Thornhill was wounded attacking an enemy trench and had to be left behind, while the remaining survivors attempted to bring back as many men as possible.³⁶ For the next two days the Germans continued to launch attacks, but abandoned the effort after one last assault on 25 October at which point they turned their attention to the Neuve Chapelle front. Once the last enemy assault had been beaten off the 16 IB retired yet again to a new trench line which had been constructed about 500 yards to the rear.³⁷ On 1 November General Pulteney warned Sir John French that the retirement of the Cavalry Corps from Messines made his line dangerous. He pointed out that it was thinly held and over-extended.³⁸ Fortunately, the Germans made no serious attempt on his Corps’ front, preoccupied as they were with the battle raging around Ypres. As operations on the Buffs’ front petered out the battalion slipped almost imperceptibly into the dull routine of trench warfare, which created its own unique problems and difficulties. Writing in 1922, R. S. H. Moody, official historian of the Buffs, noted of this period in the war: The student, interested in tactical movements of military forces, rarely thinks of weather and other little details, but to the poor suffering soldier weather, punctual or fairly punctual delivery of rations (not forgetting the rum), baths, clean clothes, nature of shelter by day and night, and even the phases of the moon seem almost of more importance than the chance of a few casualties.³⁹

The battalion spent the rest of the year rotating in and out of trenches around Bois Grenier and Armentières. As a unit in the trenches at Christmas 1914 it appeared to take part in the famous truce with German troops. It is difficult to ascertain exactly what happened as the evidence is extremely ambiguous. On Christmas Eve two drunk and jovial German (Saxon) soldiers crossed over to 16 IB lines and were immediately taken prisoner, but at much the same time bombs were thrown into the trenches occupied by the 2nd York and Lancs.⁴⁰ Captain Wilfrid Barham of the 1st Buffs recorded an equally strange Christmas Eve in his diary and with it reactions that do not quite conform to the popular image of this event. After completing his watch (8–10 p.m.), he retired to his dugout, but was then disturbed by his batman: Well, I’m blowed; of all the things I have ever seen in my few years, I think to-night’s episode just about caps the lot. Here were the Deutschers, who are supposed to regard us with bitter hate, first of all shouting across at us. One of our fellows yelled out, ‘Come and have a drink.’ [Then some banter took place between the lines] This went on for some

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time, then they suggested that we should come half-way and talk. They came all right. It was a bright moonlight night; some of our chaps went, but as soon as we saw them it was stopped. However, two of our sergeants had a talk with one of their officers, who wanted to take them prisoners; but they told him to play the game as it was Christmas time, and he told them to go back; but they succeeded in discovering what regiment is in front of us and what their wire is like.⁴¹

Two Germans then tried to come over but were stopped, and two others gave themselves up saying that London had been bombarded, St Petersburg captured and France forced to surrender leaving only Britain to defeat! The early hours of Christmas Day were spent in a tense stand to: no carolling in the frosty air here. ‘One silly fool has just tried to go over to their lines; absolute madness, because sniping has been going on; he got about fifty yards when they shot him.’ A corporal then tried to recover the body and he too was shot. Barham’s diary reveals absolutely no sympathy with the man wounded in no man’s land—‘he deserved every bullet he got’. He spent the remainder of the day with D company and Captain Chapman in a reserve line dugout. ‘Everything is very quiet, not a sound; I wonder if there is anything up?’⁴² Barham’s reactions reveal that simplistic ‘black and white’ interpretations of the Christmas truce should be treated with great care. For the 16 IB as a whole Christmas Day certainly was not one of complete peace and quiet; the war diary states: ‘Christmas celebrated as far as practicable. The receipt of Xmas card from the King and Queen gave great pleasure to the troops. The day was frosty and foggy. We had more casualties [next word indecipherable] than for some time.’⁴³ Other brigades in the 6 Division may well have had a less hectic time, as the divisional war diary implies a much quieter day: ‘25th Unofficial truce. No guns fired.’⁴⁴ Adding to this sense of confusion is the fact that the 1st Buffs war diary, faithfully, if occasionally briefly, kept since August suddenly goes dead. The entries from 21 to 29 December are missing. It is tempting to believe that the battalion destroyed evidence of its involvement in the fraternisation when the scale of official disapproval became known, but there is no evidence to substantiate this claim. Malcolm Brown and Shirley Seaton’s book on the truce contains the testimony of only one Buffs soldier, a Private Field, who recalled talking to a German soldier who was a pre-war importer of British mouth organs! However, the source is not footnoted and it is therefore impossible to crosscheck or verify.⁴⁵ With the stagnation of the war into trench deadlock a distinct tactical and strategic phase of the war came to a conclusion, which throws up a number of important questions. How had the Buffs performed during this period? Did the Buffs meet the standards expected of them? On the flip side, did events conform to their expectations of combat? What effect did combat have on the battalion? The last question is probably the simplest to answer. Soldiers and Officers Died in the Great War reveals that 134 OR and ten officer fatalities were incurred between 21 September and 31 December 1914, with the vast majority of the casualties suffered in the actions around Radinghem between 18 and 25 October.⁴⁶

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In addition, Colonel J. Hasler, Lieutenants G. F. Hamilton and C. C. Stanfield were wounded in the struggles around Radinghem. As noted earlier, the difficulty of maintaining leaders when exposed to the enemy for prolonged periods was therefore established from the very start of hostilities. The unremitting and ruthless demands of modern war also flushed out the unfit very quickly. On 15 November, Lieutenant-Colonel Hill was invalided home and Major McDouall took over. ‘This was the first of a long series of changes in the command, which was the common fate of all units.’⁴⁷ Given the noticeable absence of Hill’s name from the war diary once the battalion crossed to France, and conversely the high profiles of Hasler and McDouall, it is probable that Hill’s age and condition told against him from the very start and that this relegated him to a lesser, ‘passenger’ status. Gaps in the ranks were filled by drafts from home including many 3rd Buffs officers and men. The 3rd Buffs drafts were by no means novices: some, such as Captain Blackall, had a long history of service in both the Militia and Special Reserve. The first reinforcement draft of 69 OR under Second Lieutenant Asprey arrived on 28 October; Lieutenant Terry came up with 100 OR on 15 November and a day later Captain H. S. Hardy arrived with 146 OR, then on 7 December Captains Hart and Chapman and Second Lieutenant Silverwood-Cope (a Special Reserve officer on probation in August 1914) reported with 35 OR. In total the battalion received 350 OR and 10 officers between 28 October and 31 December including Second Lieutenant Holmes, attached from the Queen’s, who was killed within a week of arriving.⁴⁸ The battalion also utilised its own senior NCOs to fill gaps in the officer ranks. Although a pre-war Army Council instruction had ordered commanding officers to identify potential officers from among the NCOs, the Buffs appear to have reacted very quickly and decisively on this particular issue.⁴⁹ CSMs Nesbit, Stone, and Kesby, and Sergeants Corrall, Stock, and Orwin and CQMS Sayer were all promoted to Second Lieutenant.⁵⁰ Most stayed with the battalion, although some were sent back to England to stiffen the new Buffs battalions being formed at the Depot in Canterbury, and four were commissioned into different regiments. Thus only three months into the war military realities and expediencies started to erode the pre-war common bonds of class and culture that had held officers together, but had served to distance them from the men. However, the continued presence of so many commissioned former NCOs within their own battalion and regiment, an uncommon practice even in the trying circumstances of war, does perhaps reveal an intense degree of common purpose and family spirit prevalent within the 1st Buffs and across the Buffs generally.⁵¹ In terms of combat effectiveness, the Buffs and their immediate support systems worked well. Lieutenant-Colonel Hill’s musketry expertise had clearly impressed itself on the battalion as is proved by the sustained and accurate rifle fire unleashed on both the Aisne and at Radinghem. It is also clear that years of living and working in close proximity had made the battalion a cohesive and dependable whole. When officers were not available NCOs filled the gap effectively, as was shown by CSM Brady at Radinghem. Officers were also capable of interpreting their role flexibly

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and authoritatively, as revealed in Hasler’s immediate appreciation of the situation on the Aisne when he organised parties from two other regiments, and in McDouall’s seamless assumption of command in a difficult situation after Hasler was injured. Such levels of inter-dependence and trust can also be detected on a slightly wider scale. Having been part of the 16 IB for many years and having therefore gained a good knowledge of the other battalions within the brigade, the Buffs worked smoothly with its fellow units, particularly the 2nd York and Lancs. In addition, communications with the supporting artillery appear to have been generally good. All these indicators prove Bidwell and Graham’s judgements on the prewar BEF correct: the BEF was capable of quick and decisive reaction at the micro scale. On the other side of the balance sheet, Bidwell and Graham’s list of problems are also proven. The experiences of the Buffs show that co-ordination with higherlevel formations was not as smooth. Communications with flanking brigades, divisions, and the French often proved troublesome. A lack of communication between Brigade and Divisional HQs led to McDouall receiving contradictory orders at a crucial moment in the action at Radinghem. Wider failures to consider adequate ammunition supply for the artillery also placed a greater strain on the infantry which was forced to defend itself with its own firepower. This leads to the issue of the type of war the BEF was expecting. It was certainly every bit as bloody, traumatic, fast-paced and frantic as many predicted. The BEF did move rapidly and continually, but by no means consistently. Whether the Force ever used its famed fire and movement tactics is, however, another point. As Paddy Griffith has somewhat archly remarked, the BEF was actually thrown from one battle to the next and in effect did nothing but ‘blaze away madly whenever a German came into sight, and “manoeuvre” often meant skedaddling to the rear as soon as the coast was clear.’⁵² The lessons that could be drawn from these experiences were ambiguous, for both schools of pre-war thought on infantry tactics could find evidence to support their opinions. Those with the 1st Buffs who supported the ‘McMahon school’ thesis on the need to increase the infantry’s firepower through automatic weapons could point to the difficulties faced when the battalion sought to clear the Germans from their positions at Radinghem. By contrast, the ‘morale school’ could identify the significance of the bayonet in both attack and defence. On the Aisne, and more particularly in defence at Radinghem, the Buffs and 2nd York and Lancs had driven back German assaults at the point of the bayonet. Moody analysed these actions and revealed his stance on these issues in the process: It is not so very long ago that many thoughtful army officers were of opinion that the days of the bayonet were over for ever; but then, of course, no one at all dreamed in the summer of 1914 that men would again fight in iron helmets or throw grenades, and there have been many similar tales in this war.⁵³

Trying to draw an overall lesson from the Buffs’ experiences in 1914 is every bit as difficult today as it must have been for officers pondering the position from their scratch trenches in the autumn and winter of 1914. The battalion spent

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much time in desperate defences which appeared to both prove and disprove tenets of pre-war practice. German assaults had been covered by artillery and machine gun fire, but were executed with little guile or field craft. Dense packs of attacking troops had fallen easy victim to the collective firepower of the battalion. It could easily be concluded that German assaults failed due to a combination of poor fire and movement and a lack of desire to close fully and effectively with the enemy. Having spent so little time in properly prepared and co-ordinated assaults added to the difficulty of drawing an overall lesson. Weight of defensive fire had certainly hampered the Buffs, as had a lack of sufficiently heavy supporting artillery fire. Historians have spent much time debating whether the BEF should have swapped paradigms (to use Travers’ terms) at this point from the human-centred to the technological-centred. However, this simple binary division is not subtle enough; an analysis of the Buffs’ 1914 experiences implies that the BEF actually required a combination of these paradigms. Infantrymen needed to be highly trained, motivated, and led by men with an eye for ground and opportunity, but these elements then had to be slid into a wider framework of technological and logistical excellence and flexibility. Over the next three years battalions of the Buffs played a part in every uphill exhausting slog and every exhilarating downhill sprint experienced by the BEF as it created this war-winning blend.

NOTES 1. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 6, 7, 8 Aug. 1914; WO 95/1605 16 IB WD, 17 Sept. 1914. The exact strength of the 1st Buffs is a bit of a mystery. The General Monthly Return of the Regimental Strength of the British Army, (WO 73/97), states that in May 1914 the 1st Buffs was 25 officers and 670 OR strong; in July it was 25 and 704, and by August stood at 24 and 714 respectively. The 16 IB return is therefore considerably lower than the combined Regular and Reservists figures would suggest, and probably reflects the fact that a number of men had been drawn off to provide the new battalions with a solid cadre. See Ch. 1 for more details. 2. See Tim Travers, The Killing Ground: The British Army, the Western Front and the Emergence of Modern Warfare (London: Unwin, Hyman, 1987); Shelford Bidwell and Dominick Graham, Fire-Power: British Army Weapons and Theories of War, 1904–1945 (London: George Allen & Unwin, 1982). 3. For discussion of the idea of the army as a reflection of society see Ian Beckett, ‘The Nation in Arms, 1914–18’, in I. F. W. Beckett and Keith Simpson (eds.), A Nation in Arms: A Social Study of the British Army in the First World War (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1985), 1–36. 4. Paddy Griffith, Battle Tactics of the Western Front: The British Army’s Art of Attack, 1916–1918 (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1994), 50–1. 5. Bidwell and Graham argued that such flaws in the intellectual structure of British training and practice undermined much of the army’s otherwise reasonable response to modern problems. Bidwell and Graham, Fire-Power, 12–58.

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6. Bidwell and Graham, Fire-Power, 26–7. 7. See ibid., 49–50. 8. Tim Travers has labelled this element, ‘the psychological battlefield’ and ‘the psychological paradigm’ of war. According to Travers’ interpretation of the British army immediately before 1914, it had built up the cult of morale to the detriment of finding technologically and intellectually driven solutions to the problems created by modern weapons. For Travers, it created a high command structure unable to understand the reality of modern warfare and an inability to analyse the conditions of the Western Front in a scientific and rational way. See The Killing Ground, 37–84 in particular. 9. Quoted in Edward Spiers, ‘The Regular Army’, in Beckett and Simpson, A Nation in Arms, 47. 10. Bidwell and Graham, Fire-Power, 56–8. 11. Dragon, June 1905, 9–10. 12. Ibid., Sept. 1912, 244. 13. A snatch of evidence to support this theory was found in a discussion with Simon Moody and Alan Wakefield, authors of Under the Devil’s Eye: Britain’s Forgotten Army in Salonika, 1915–1918 (Thrupp: Sutton, 2004), over the role of the 2nd Buffs, in that campaign. According to Moody and Wakefield no other unit’s records reveal quite such an obsession with musketry as those of the 2nd Buffs. 14. See, for example, Keith Simpson’s comments in The Old Contemptibles, A Photographic History of the British Expeditionary Force, August–December 1914 (London: George Allen and Unwin, 1981), 28–9. 15. Dragon, July 1911, 176. 16. Ibid., Sept. 1912, 237. 17. Ibid., Feb. 1911, 28. 18. The Diary of Wilfrid Saxby Barham Captain, ‘The Buffs’, during the Great War 1914–1915 Fermoy–Dover–Armentières–Ypres (London: printed for private circulation by R. E. Thomas & Co., 1918), 3. 19. Ingouville Williams was promoted to command of the 34 Division in the spring of 1915 and was killed on the Somme in July 1916. 20. R. S. H. Moody, Historical Records of The Buffs, East Kent Regiment 1914–1919 (London: Medici Society, 1922), 9. 21. For a wider discussion of the aims and intentions of British strategy see David French, British Strategy and War Aims 1914–1916 (London: Allen and Unwin, 1986) and William Philpott, Anglo-French Relations and Strategy on the Western Front, 1914–1918 (Basingstoke: Macmillan, 1996). 22. For a wider discussion of these issues see Ian F. W. Beckett, Ypres: The First Battle, 1914 (Harlow: Longman/Pearson, 2004), Anthony Farrar Hockley, Death of an Army (London: Barker, 1967), John Terraine, Mons: Retreat to Victory (London: Batsford, 1960). 23. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD 21, 22 Sept. 1914; Moody, Historical Records, 11. 24. Moody, Historical Records, 13. 25. J. E. Edmonds, Military Operations France and Belgium, 1914, Vol. 2 (London: Macmillan, 1925) 71–2, 96, 99, 100–5. 26. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 18 Oct. 1914. 27. Ibid.

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28. Ibid. Edmonds, Military Operations, 1914, Vol. 2, 110–1. Moody suggests that the proximity of these locations to Kent brought out even greater resolution in the men. His purple prose states that: ‘At Radinghem and at Ypres then, our regiment was helping to defend England from a dreadful and unprecedented disaster, and Men of Kent must further consider that to a certain extent, at any rate, the Buffs were, more than any other regiment, defending their own homeland, for if hostile batteries of modern long-range guns could have been planted on Cape Gris Nez, not only would Dover harbour and dockyard have been destroyed, but, knowing the Germans as we do now, we may be pretty certain that Hythe, Folkestone, Sandgate, and perhaps Deal would soon have been in as ruinous a condition as were, a little later, Rheims, Arras and Ypres.’ Historical Records, 24. 29. Major-General T. O. Marden, A Short History of the Sixth Division, August 1914–March 1919 (London: Hugh Rees, 1920), 7. 30. Moody, Historical Records, 14. 31. Hasler recovered and returned to the battalion in December. However, soon afterwards he was given the command of 11 IB and was killed leading it on 26 April 1915. 32. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 19 Oct. 1918. 33. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 19, 20 Oct. 1914; Moody, Historical Records, 16. 34. Edmonds, Military Operations, 1914, Vol. 2, 141–2. 35. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 22, 23, 24 Oct. 1914; Moody, Historical Records, 18. 36. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 23, 24 Oct. 1914. 37. Edmonds, Military Operations, 1914, Vol. 2, 227–8. 38. Ibid., 231. 39. Moody, Historical Records, 19. 40. WO 95/1605 16 IB WD, 24 Dec. 1914. 41. The Diary of Wilfrid Barham, 48–50. 42. Ibid., 50. 43. WO 95/1605 16 IB WD, 25 Dec. 1914. 44. WO 95/1581 6 Division WD, 25 Dec. 1914. 45. Malcolm Brown and Shirley Seaton, Christmas Truce: The Western Front December 1914 (London: Leo Cooper, 1984), 99. 46. Soldiers and Officers Died in the Great War (Sussex: CD-Rom, Naval and Military Press, 1998). 47. Moody, Historical Records, 21. 48. Figures drawn from ibid., 16–20; Soldiers and Officers Died CD-Rom; WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 28, 31 Oct., 3, 12, 15, 16 Nov., 8, 15 Dec. 1914. 49. I am grateful to Professor Gary Sheffield for reminding me of this particular Army Council Instruction. 50. Moody, Historical Records, 23–4. 51. On the practice of commissioning men into the same regiment or battalion in which they had served as ranks see G. D. Sheffield, Leadership in the Trenches: Officer–Man Relations, Morale and Discipline in the British Army in the Era of the First World War (Basingstoke: Macmillan, 2000), 111–13. 52. Griffith, Battle Tactics, 50–1. 53. Moody, Historical Records, 18.

3 Adjusting to the Western Front: January 1915–Spring 1916 After the open warfare of 1914 had collapsed into trench stalemate both sides were left with strategic dilemmas. On the German side there was debate as to which front demanded most attention, the Eastern or Western. Britain and France were no less perplexed. Britain was desperately trying to mobilise its industries and manpower for a larger war than it had first planned, and France had to decide whether large-scale offensive action was a possibility given Britain’s inability to play a major supporting role at this juncture. The Western allies also had to consider the plight of Russia and its need of assistance. When combined these problems created a very strange situation indeed, making 1915 a year of experiments, partially thought-through reactions and speculative efforts.¹ On the Western Front the BEF began its process of coming to grips with the problems of the offensive in the unforeseen circumstances of flank-less trench warfare. With no real precedents to guide them, the commanders of the BEF had to find solutions to the difficulty of taking successive trench lines covered by wire, machine guns and artillery. Conditions on the Western Front demanded that the army had to blend siege warfare tactics with its concepts of fire and movement, breakthrough and decision. Finding a neat combination of these ideas was by no means simple, particularly when Britain was so short of the equipment and material necessary to make them effective. These tactical considerations then had to be placed in a strategic framework, as the high commanders of the BEF had to consider the projected outcomes of each engagement: should the BEF look for a decisive assault leading to a major breakthrough, or should it husband its resources, train its men to a higher standard, wait for equipment and munitions to arrive in significant quantity and quality before launching any such offensive? A further element complicated and confused these questions. As part of a coalition effort fighting on foreign soil, the British were not entirely free to make their own decisions. Sir John French and the British government had to fall in line with allied policy, and French policy in particular, especially at this moment in the war when Britain was very much a junior partner and could not argue its case from a position of strength.²

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During the course of the year Kitchener’s New Army divisions began to cross to France.³ By September, all four Buffs battalions were on the Western Front: the 6th arrived on 1 June, the 7th on 28 July, and the 8th on 1 September.⁴ As will be shown, the 8th Buffs had by far the most traumatic introduction to the Western Front due to its participation in the Battle of Loos after just three weeks in France. In contrast the 6th and 7th Buffs were introduced to the nature of trench warfare gradually. Having received equipment and training at varying speeds while in Britain, the Buffs’ service battalions, their brigades and divisions required careful instruction from more seasoned troops. The 6th Buffs was sent to the Ploegsteert sector at the southern tip of the Ypres salient, and attached to the 7th Gloucestershire, 2nd Gloucestershire, and 1st Royal Scots battalions for orientation in trench routine and practice. June was dominated by training in the use of gas masks, the procedures for relieving troops in the trenches and supervised visits to the front line trenches in small groups. Perhaps revealing the patchiness of its previous training experiences, the battalion was drilled in such basic tasks as the fixing and unfixing of bayonets, the loading of rifles, and how to form simple formations.⁵ The 7th Buffs went through a similar orientation routine after its division (18) arrived at Bray on the southern Somme front in August. Attached to the 15 IB, the battalion gained instruction in the trenches from the 1st RWK and 2nd King’s Own Scottish Borderers for a month before it was allowed to hold the front line alone.⁶ Evidence drawn from the war diaries reveals that the battalions quickly took the initiative and a keen interest in every occurrence on their section of front. From a very early stage, 12 Division war diary contains rigorous and detailed daily intelligence reports showing that its frontline battalions were taking their jobs seriously.⁷ The 6th Buffs soon began active patrolling, examining the German positions and various craters in no man’s land.⁸ On 28 July, the Germans displayed a notice board proclaiming ‘WE ARE SAXONS’, which was doubtless designed to procure a local truce between the more relaxed Saxons and their Anglo-Saxon relations. Tony Ashworth has explored this phenomenon of the so-called ‘live and let live system’ on the Western Front in which both sides tacitly agreed to curb their activities outside major battle periods. Ashworth perceives this system to be most evident in 1915 when centralised control over violence was most slack as both sides sought to adjust their command systems to the situation of trench warfare.⁹ However, the notice appears to have done little to curtail the activities of the Buffs and the division as a whole, for attempts were made to capture these boards.¹⁰ This German inability to impose inactivity on this instance may well be explained by the fact that during the summer of 1915 the BEF as a whole was beginning to consider methods of maintaining an aggressive attitude, which was to find full expression in its raiding policy (see next chapter), and the relatively recent arrival of the 12 Division: it was full of fresh, eager men determined to carry out the task they had volunteered for. In September, both the 6th and 7th Buffs staged demonstrations to assist the fighting at Loos. The 7th Buffs took part in a series of squabbles for craters caused

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by the mining activity of both sides. Some of these actions turned into quite nasty affairs; one in particular caused the battalion numerous casualties including Captain Hobbes, who was buried alive, dug out of the debris, and invalided out of the army suffering from shock.¹¹ The 6th Buffs also stepped up its already highly active stance. Throughout August the battalion had enthusiastically carried out orders to suppress all enemy activity with rifle fire. On the first day of the Loos offensive, 25 September, the battalion raised a fire in its front line with the intention of shrouding no man’s land in smoke. At the same time bombing parties crawled out to bombard the German trenches. The next afternoon rudimentary psychological operations were commenced, as the battalion was instructed to cheer loudly; it had the effect of drawing fire, which was doubtless at least part of the intention.¹² As the 6th and 7th Buffs were finding their way in the patterns of trench warfare and expressing an aggressive spirit, the 1st Buffs was preoccupied with maintaining its professional standards despite the huge alterations in its ranks. It is clear that the junior officers recently promoted from the ranks of the battalion’s senior NCOs took the opportunity to prove their initiative and worth in the spring of 1915. Second Lieutenant Kesby, formerly a CSM, decided to shake up the enemy by systematic machine gunning and sniping. Every time the enemy responded he reacted with even greater ferocity with the effect that the Germans ‘are very shy now of using their machine guns’.¹³ During April the Germans flew the Imperial flag from various parts of their trenches. This caused Second Lieutenant Corrall, a former senior NCO, to take charge of the battalion’s mortars and engage the targets. For the next few weeks Corrall bombarded the Germans every time they showed a flag. On 21 April he even went out with a small party to snatch one from the German line. It culminated on 23 when the Germans flew another flag which, being St George’s Day, seems to have particularly angered the Buffs, and another team was dispatched to remove it.¹⁴ The spirit of boisterous improvisation implicit in these activities is reflected in Barham’s diary, for he recorded that: Corrall has been chosen as OC trench mortar. I wish him joy with his new plaything. It is one of the most primitive arrangements I have seen out here, although when it does land the shell somewhere near the mark it does a good deal of damage . . . he [Corrall] fired three shots, two of which burst in the air. He will blow himself up one of these days; he is so jolly careless with the detonators and the way he puts them into the shells.¹⁵

In early June the 6 Division moved from the Bois Grenier sector into the Ypres Salient taking over trenches in the Railway Wood district; it was the start of a yearlong occupation of trenches in the central and southern Ypres sector.¹⁶ For much of June the division was employed labouring on the construction of better trenches and communications links with the trenches, as well as trench-holding duties.¹⁷ This quiet spell came to an end in August when the division was engaged in an attempt to wrest Hooge back from the Germans. This relatively small-scale action is of significance for revealing the first real attempts of the 1st Buffs and the

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6 Division to come to terms with the problems of offensive action from fully entrenched, flank-less positions. It therefore fits into the story of the other British battles of 1915: Neuve Chapelle, Aubers Ridge, Festubert, and Loos.¹⁸ Hooge, and its chateau sitting on the Menin Road, was the site of fierce fighting throughout the spring and summer of 1915. In May 1915 the Germans captured the village forcing a sharp L-shaped dent in the British line leaving Hooge at the top of a salient. Fighting continued in June as the British sought to establish a better position and complete control of the remains of Hooge chateau. On 19 July, the British exploded a mine under the German positions creating a deep and wide crater. A further spell of fighting then occurred as each side tried to consolidate its grasp on the crater and the lines around Hooge. The Germans emerged from this period in the ascendant having repulsed several British attacks and held their ground. On 30 July, the Germans attacked in this sector using liquid fire for the first time. Accompanied by a strong bombardment, the use of this new weapon gave the Germans some success and trenches were taken from the 7th King’s Royal Rifle Corps (14 Division) just south of the Menin Road. In the afternoon the hastily arranged British counter-attacks came to nothing with the artillery support appearing ‘feeble indeed after the German tornado’.¹⁹ (The 6 Division assisted this assault with flanking fire from its positions near Railway Wood.) In the early hours of 31 July the Germans made another assault and a series of skirmishes occurred during the day. At this stage ‘it was clear that nothing but a regular attack, thoroughly prepared—as distinguished from a hasty counter-attack—would dislodge the enemy’, and the 6 Division was given the task.²⁰ Planning for the battle certainly reveals that the war was moving up a gear. Full, typed orders were distributed for the first time to the Buffs, 16 IB, and 6 Division, a fact commented upon in the official history.²¹ Equal sophistication was applied to the artillery programme and the activities of flanking units. 3 Squadron Royal Flying Corps assisted with spotting duties, and two French artillery groups and No 2 Group Heavy Artillery Reserve were added to the artillery support. This support was given extra potency by the free expenditure of ammunition—a significant departure from the earlier problems of supply at the Battle of Neuve Chapelle.²² From 3 August the British began erratically timed barrages so as to confuse the Germans. This was successful for on the morning of the assault it was clear that the Germans believed the barrage to be of the ‘normal’ kind and not the prelude to an attack.²³ At the same time the flanking troops began elaborate decoy operations. To the north 49 Division feigned preparations for an attack on Pilckem Ridge. To the south 46 Division engaged Hill 60 to prevent it being used for easy observation; the 17 Division constructed elaborate, but fake, assault and assembly trenches which succeeded in drawing German attention, and the 28 Division also made fake attack preparations.²⁴ 6 Division Commander, Sir William Congreve, planned to gain the high ground north of the Hooge crater and to establish a line running through the chateau grounds and stable buildings. The 18 IB was to attack from Sanctuary Wood

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towards the German front line from the posts G1 to G3, which was then to form its right flank, while the old British communication trench, The Strand, was to form its left flank. On the left of the line, the 16 IB was to advance from the trenches near the G10 post running in an arc down to the former British communication trench, Old Bond Street. The 16 and 18 IBs were to meet each other by sending bombing parties down trenches G7 and G8 to meet in Bond Street trench.²⁵ A sense of thoroughness pervades the whole paper trail extant in the unit war diaries. Brigadier-General C. L. Nicholson of 16 IB made detailed preparations in order to execute his allotted role in the assault. His first move was to order the construction of new jumping-off trenches following his reconnaissance of the position on 31 July. His intention was to lead with the 1st KSLI, which was to take the crater and the trench running through each side of it, and the 2nd York and Lancs, which was to complete the capture of the trenches flanking the crater. The 1st Buffs was allotted a supporting role consisting of two companies in GHQ line between the Menin Road and the junction of GHQ line and Oxford Street, while the 1st Leics was in reserve in the Ypres ramparts. The 1st KSLI and 2nd York and Lancs were detailed to maintain close contact, and the 1st KSLI was given the additional responsibility of ensuring communication with the 18 IB on the flank. Nicholson then took great care to establish forward dumps of small arms ammunition (SAA) and to issue four sandbags, one day’s rations and iron rations to each man involved in the assault. He then made it very clear that he expected all to do their duty: ‘The Brigadier expects that lightly wounded men will stick at their posts. All walking cases must bring back their arms and equipment, if they possibly can do so.’²⁶ Revealing that the British were thinking hard about the extreme difficulties operations imposed on communication systems, the 6 Division attempted to improve the situation by laying down a series of rules. Yellow screens were to be erected to call down artillery support. Blue and yellow flags were to be waved to indicate that the artillery was falling short. Bombers were to mark their progress up trenches by yellow and green flags. An additional note on communications emphasises the need for rapid communication in duplicate by different routes. Strict orders were given as to the numbering of communications. Orderlies were to be detailed for running and message logging duties and officers put in charge of them.²⁷ An innovation in communications was attempted in this operation as wireless sets were installed at divisional and brigade headquarters, but it proved unsuccessful. Reacting to intelligence on German infantry signals to its artillery, Nicholson ordered that German screens were not to be pulled down, as this would be treated as a call for German defensive fire. Aware of the strong possibilities of a German counter-attack and artillery fire on his men, Nicholson ordered that machine guns were to be moved forward to the German positions immediately after they had been captured and that the new front line was to be held as thinly as was prudent. He then made additional attempts to impose order on the chaos of battle. Men of the 1st Leics were detailed to provide battle police at certain key points in the communication trenches and roads

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leading to and from the assault points. ‘Duties of the police are to collect stragglers and send them back to their units in parties. They are to send back any unwounded men who are helping back wounded men.’²⁸ As with Neuve Chapelle, the British were staking much on surprise. The attacking troops were ordered to maintain absolute silence as they formed up, and no maps or documents were to be carried into the assault, a move which caused difficulties, as proved by the rueful remark in Barham’s diary: ‘A great deal of trouble has been caused by our not being allowed to bring maps up. The trenches are complicated enough with them, and without them it is awful.’²⁹ As noted, artillery programmes were deliberately erratic, and the attack itself was to be preceded by a bombardment lasting only thirty minutes commencing at 2.45 a.m. During the last ten minutes of the bombardment the assault troops crawled out into no man’s land in order to get as close to the enemy wire as possible.³⁰ It was expected that the artillery bombardment would be effective and that the assaulting battalions would be able to achieve their objectives with few casualties. The records imply that the attacking battalions were to commit no more than half their men with the other half held back to fill gaps and assist in consolidation. It was considered unlikely that the enemy would prove successful in any counter-attack given the nature of the ground, but in order to safeguard against this eventuality the 1st Buffs in support was to block approaches to Ypres, and counter any enemy action by acting immediately ‘on their own initiative and . . . without hesitation.’³¹ When the barrage lifted at 3.15 a.m., the two brigades managed to get into the enemy trenches very quickly and immediately became involved in a scrum of hand-to-hand fighting. The battalion war diary notes that the first waves were successful, but suffered heavy casualties. D company under Captain Holman moved forward to support the 2nd York and Lancs and 3rd Rifle Bde on the left flank. Two platoons advanced across the open and two went via the communication trench. The company then assisted in moving forward ammunition.³² Bombers were sent off to initiate the task of connecting the two brigades by driving the enemy from every section of their forward trenches. At 6.45 a.m. the Germans began shelling the trench occupied by the Buffs, forcing its abandonment and a return to the original trench at F2. C company under Captain Cattley went up to assist the right hand attack, but was not needed and so retired to the British second line. The heavy artillery fire and presence of small pockets of German troops made the order to obtain contact in the crater very tricky, and this was achieved only at 4 a.m. on 10 August after a vicious bout of close quarter fighting. The new positions were consolidated and the artillery helped break up any planned counter-attacks. Significantly, enemy enfilade fire was suppressed with the help of an aircraft while the weather was good, but once the weather closed in this fire intensified and caused numerous casualties.³³ The end result was the recapture of the whole 700 yards of trench lost in July. Over 130 Germans were taken prisoner, 11 machine guns were captured, and large numbers of dead were seen, later estimated to be at least 200.³⁴

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Crater Chateau German front line Ground gained

G5

G10

British starting position

G4

G9

G7

Hooge

G3

Posts

G8 G6

G3

Old Bond Street Trench

G2

Oxford Street Trench Zouave Wood

G1

Sanctuary Wood

Map 2. Hooge, 9 August 1915, 1st Buffs.

In the early hours of 10 August A and D companies under Captain Gould moved forward to relieve the troops (1st KSLI) in the crater and a reserve platoon was left in the front line. The troops in the crater found great difficulty in gaining contact with their flanks. On the left no trench appeared to run directly into the 3rd Rifle Bde position. While on the right there was some communication with the 18 IB (2nd DLI and 1st W. Yorks) in the crater and stables, but ‘these units were themselves not in touch with their own supports.’³⁵ By noon D company had gained touch with C company and Second Lieutenant Dangerfield had established four machine guns along the front; ‘to judge by the German prisoners’ letters [they] had a discouraging effect on the projected German counter-attack.’ However, the Buffs’ positions were full of German and British dead and wounded (‘not precisely a bed of roses’ as the war diary puts it), and order needed to be established which was hard given the German fire from Hill 60. Lieutenant Davies organised a defence ‘in a curved position running round but well in advance of the crater and towards the stables with marked success and was never really shaken during a long and trying day’.³⁶ There was also a debilitating lack of drinking water made worse, as the diary says, by the clear view of the Bellewaarde lake, ‘a tantalising sight’.³⁷ The dead then had to be buried regardless of the danger as ‘sanitation had indeed began to demand this course rather urgently.’³⁸

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Communications improved during the night of 10–11 August when a battalion of the King’s Liverpool Regiment dug a trench connecting A company to the 3rd Rifle Bde. During the night of 10 the Germans attempted to counter-attack which was forced back by Captain Gould’s A company, but Captain Homan was killed (‘He had exposed himself with great gallantry in organising the defence of his line and his death will be much regretted in the btn’³⁹). On the next day the battalion remained in the forward trenches under German artillery fire until the evening when it was relieved by the 2nd Leinster. During the relief the Germans began a bomb attack on the left of A company from both sides of the trench. Second Lieutenant Ferguson ‘led the counter-attack under somewhat critical circumstances’ and was twice wounded before being forced to retreat.⁴⁰ The assault was then repulsed, the relief continued, and the battalion returned to the Menin Gate. A day later the battalion marched into billets at Poperinghe. The war diary lists 25 killed, 162 wounded, and 5 missing. A particular worry was the steady drain of officers, for as Moody noted, ‘At this period [i.e. mid-August] not only the Buffs, but the 16th Brigade generally, were suffering badly from the lack of senior and experienced officers.’⁴¹ (As a whole, the 6 Division suffered 2,128 casualties.)⁴² Despite these heavy losses, the British official historian, Sir James Edmonds, called the operation ‘a model of its kind, [it] took the enemy by surprise and was entirely successful: it marks further progress in the methods of minor operations.’⁴³ The action at Hooge represents an early stage of the evolution of British bite and hold operations: a limited front was attacked, it was bombarded methodically, and the troops moved forward quickly to enter the enemy line. No grand breakthrough was planned which meant no overstretch of artillery resources or the BEF’s logistical support system. It represented a significant lesson and indicator for future operations.⁴⁴ A further notable fact was the issue of steel helmets to some of the attacking troops. This was a significant innovation, for the assaulting troops were highly vulnerable during these operations, particularly in the wake of the advance when the men were forced hastily to reconstruct trenches and dig new ones near the mess of the crater. During this time they were exposed to almost continual enemy artillery fire. The high casualty rates suffered in the attacking brigades might well have been exacerbated by the infantry’s vulnerability to shellfire due to the limited availability of protective headwear.⁴⁵ In pursuit of its objectives the 1st Buffs deployed a range of weapons. Of most use in trench-clearing operations was the grenade. Although a weapon of some antiquity, little emphasis had been placed on it before the war, but the shift towards trench warfare created a huge demand which British industry was struggling to meet in 1915. Various types of grenades were manufactured, but the Mills bomb quickly became the standard. With a range of 20–30 yards, it was an ideal weapon for clearing enemy trenches.⁴⁶ Second in importance was the machine gun. The battalion brought forward its Vickers guns as soon as possible in order to provide defensive fire. Maximising infantry firepower was a major concern in

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1915 and involved a debate over the best tactical use of machine guns. At first, battalions were supplied with heavy machine guns, the Vickers or Maxim. By the autumn of 1915 opinion was changing, however, and shifted towards the issue of lighter machine guns to battalions. The Lewis gun was adopted as the infantry weapon, and the heavier machine guns were collected and placed under brigade control. Infantry battalions gave up their Vickers guns most reluctantly, as they were prized for their reliability and efficiency. Although the Lewis gun was much lighter, and therefore a weapon that could be taken into no man’s land and enemy trenches with far more speed, its pan-fed system and tendency to jam inspired initial suspicion.⁴⁷ The issuing and distribution of these new weapons proceeded only slowly, revealing once again British industry’s inability to react rapidly to the demands of modern war.⁴⁸ This very gradual accretion of equipment, manpower, and experience was put to a major test in September 1915 at the Battle of Loos. General Joffre, commander of the French forces, intended to make a significant effort in Champagne and Artois in order to relieve pressure on the Noyon salient, and he called upon Sir John French to assist him in these operations. French was unenthusiastic about the plans, but was directed to co-operate by the Secretary of State for War, Lord Kitchener, who was keen to reassure the French government and army that Britain was prepared to play a full role in the fighting.⁴⁹ Planning therefore commenced to support French operations by launching an assault from the La Bassée Canal south to the junction of the Anglo-French armies near the coal-mining village of Loos. Initially, Sir Douglas Haig, commander of the British First Army, was as lukewarm as Sir John French about the proposed scheme. However, after studying the ground he appeared to become more confident. As Prior and Wilson have shown, during the planning period for the battle the British High Command revealed a tendency to misunderstanding and muddle. Sir John French implied that he wanted a limited demonstration and yet planning for a major breakthrough went ahead, cautious bite and hold tactics were swept away, and no one appeared to understand who had final authority over the BEF’s reserve forces.⁵⁰ The BEF therefore prepared to make a large-scale attack (by its 1915 standards) on a broad front where no man’s land was often very wide with barely adequate artillery cover.⁵¹ Despite these problems, the first day of the battle was generally successful, but nowhere was there the potential for a full breakthrough or further immediate and easy successes.⁵² At the time this did not appear to be the case, and the commanders on the spot, Haig and Rawlinson, pressed for rapid reinforcement and exploitation of the supposedly crumbling German line.⁵³ Sir John French had retained tight control over the reserves, which included the 21 and 24 Divisions, and these units were now rushed up to the line. The 24 Division contained the 8th Buffs (part of the 72 IB at this stage) and had landed in France as recently as 1 September. It was a very inexperienced division in more ways than one. Rifles had been issued only in May 1915, and it

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was topped by the thinnest crust of professionalism: the commanding officer, Sir J. G. Ramsay, was a retired Indian Army officer, no battalion had more than one Regular or ex-Regular officer other than the commanding officer, and in the 8th Buffs’ case this was actually a Militia Officer, and all the brigadiers were retired Indian Army officers.⁵⁴ Since landing in France the division had managed to arrange a couple of exercises for the troops, but it had had no trench orientation sessions and was in no way ready for a major role.⁵⁵ According to the official historian, French actually saw this as an advantage, believing that prolonged exposure to trench war tended to atrophy troops, and therefore fresh and inexperienced men would provide just the sort of vim required in breakthrough and pursuit operations.⁵⁶ On 21 September, the 8th Buffs commenced a long night march towards the front, a procedure it repeated on the night of 22/23 and on 24; each march took longer than expected largely due to poor traffic control. During the 24 each man’s pack was weighed down further by the addition of extra rations and a greatcoat, as the division was warned that it might not see its cookers gain until the 26/27.⁵⁷ The marching continued on 25 and, during a short halt, Colonel Romer addressed his troops: ‘Men, I am not going to say very much to you this morning, only to ask you to remember that you are the Buffs.’⁵⁸ Confusion then grew as the lack of clarity over operational authority over these divisions became apparent. The two divisions were seemingly under the control of their Corps Commander, General Haking, but he was torn between the demands of the Corps and Army commanders at the front and French. Orders were issued from Haking’s XI Corps, but they do not appear to have filtered down to the battalions in any great detail for the 8th Buffs’ war diary merely records that the unit was directed to attack Vendin-le-Veil.⁵⁹ The official history provides some useful additional details: the battalions of each attacking brigade had received no orders by 5 a.m. on 26 September which resulted in the dispatch of a staff officer to 24 Divisional headquarters to ascertain the situation. This officer was informed that orders had been sent out and should have arrived. He returned to 72 IB headquarters at 9.45 a.m. and made a verbal report on the situation and XI Corps’ intentions. BrigadierGeneral Mitford then called an immediate conference with his battalion commanders and explained their tasks. At 10.30 a.m., half an hour before zero, the battalion commanders rushed back to their men in order to prepare for the attack. The Buffs had been marching for three days, had been bundled into the front line, had made no reconnaissance of the ground, and had little idea of what to expect other than the understanding that they were attacking a heavily weakened and demoralised foe.⁶⁰ At 11 a.m. the leading units of the division, the 9th E. Surrey and 8th RWK, went over the top and commenced their long march towards the third German line running from the southern edge of Hulluch village in the north to the northern face of Bois Hugo in the south. These troops were marching into a bulge in the German line leaving them open to enfilade fire, which began as soon as the leading

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La Bassée Hulluch Benifontaine

German Line Stützpunkt IV British Line 8th Buffs

Loos Cité St Auguste Lens

Map 3. Loos, 26 September 1915, 8th Buffs.

troops crossed the Lens–La Bassée road. A gap started to open between the 9th E. Surrey and 8th RWK as both pulled towards the fire. The 8th Buffs and 8th Queen’s were then sent forward to plug this gap with the 8th Buffs heading for the strong point, Stutzpunkt IV, nearly a mile away. Soon after the 9th Suffolk and 11th Essex were also committed. Sergeant Horace Reid followed Romer into the assault with his confidence high thanks to the resolute example of his commanding officer.⁶¹ The advance went well until the attacking troops crossed the Lens–La Bassé road. On the eastern side of the road the ground tumbled away sharply, and the attacking troops found themselves in a bowl with the enemy on three sides. Reid was hit, fell to the ground, and when he lifted his head he appeared to be surrounded by dead and dying Buffs.⁶² Amazingly, all of the units maintained their discipline and marched towards the enemy wire with complete resolution even though they were suffering heavy losses. At the German wire, the survivors went to ground as they tried to find gaps in the entanglements. By this stage officer casualties were soaring leaving the men leaderless and confused. The commanding officers of the Buffs (Romer), Queen’s (Fairtlough), and Essex

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(Radclyffe) had been killed and those of the Suffolk (Brettell) and Royal West Kent (Vansittart) were wounded. After about fifteen minutes, the troops at the German wire began to retire in what Edmonds describes as a calm and orderly way.⁶³ Back on their front line, leaderless and badly shaken, these men simply drifted along unable to form a disciplined, coherent whole. However, surviving officers soon began to rally the men and the situation was stabilised.⁶⁴ The 8th Buffs suffered 25 officer casualties (seven fatal), including the commanding officer, a major, and 8 captains, and 534 OR (158 fatal).⁶⁵ As a whole, the 24 Division lost 187 officers and 3,991 OR.⁶⁶ It was a disaster, and had significant repercussions. Arguments over the positioning and use of these reserve divisions exploded and were a major reason behind the dismissal of Sir John French a short time later, and have been much debated by historians since.⁶⁷ At the time, rather than analyse the affair too deeply some simply blamed the men of the 21 and 24 Divisions for not showing enough professionalism. Others interpreted this as an unwarranted slur and, perhaps more importantly, believed it missed the most significant lesson highlighted by the tragedy. The 24 Division war diary contains an additional file with a statement by Colonel C. Stewart, an eyewitness, to Major A. F. Becke dated 3 August 1925, which was probably written to assist the team of official historians then working on the 1915 volumes. He stated that

German Line

Quarries British Line

Cité St Elie

German Line 8th Buffs

7 E. Surrey

Loos

Map 4. Loos, Quarries, 13 October 1915, 6th Buffs.

British Line

Hulluch

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although the men were indeed inexperienced, they were not to blame, and instead identified the poor planning of the Corps commander, Haking, as the reason behind the failure.⁶⁸ Nearly a fortnight later the 6th Buffs was drawn into the battle, where it too suffered an equally traumatic experience. German counter-attacks on 3 October had resulted in the loss of ground between the major positions of the Hohenzollern Redoubt and the Quarries in the northern sector of the Loos front.⁶⁹ On the evening of the 8, the 12 Division using the 6th RWK had attempted to recapture Gun Trench near the Quarries, but it was a bloody failure. Another attack was scheduled for 13 October to commence at 2 p.m. after a two-hour bombardment assisted by a smoke screen. Noting the need for grenades once in the enemy trenches, the 12 Division prepared by issuing 2,000 bombs to each battalion and creating a forward dump of 5,000: clearly, bombing had become a major part of the BEF’s tactical arsenal.⁷⁰ The 6th Buffs was assigned the task of attacking Gun Trench where it looped in a right angle protecting the south-eastern face of the Quarry. This required the Buffs to cross a wide strip of no man’s land and enter German trenches on the reverse crest of a slight incline. At zero hour on 13, the 9th E. Surrey and 8th RWK sprinted the short distance between their trenches and Gun Trench covered by a fairly thick smoke screen which enabled them to get into the trench and drive out the enemy. On the Buffs’ front, heavy fire was brought down immediately halting the advance close to the British wire. Within a few minutes the Buffs had suffered ten officer casualties and nearly 400 OR.⁷¹ The experiences of the 6th and 8th Buffs during the Battle of Loos reveal a number of faults within the BEF. The fate of the 8th Buffs highlighted the problem of command and control, which can be attributed to the BEF’s lack of experience and preparation for fighting a large-scale war against a first-class enemy. French, his Army, and Corps commanders were groping towards an understanding of the function, meaning, and competent exercise of high command during 1915. Weapons systems were also found wanting, particularly the artillery. Like the rest of the BEF, the artillery was expanding rapidly but was hampered by a poor supply of ammunition and hardware. At Loos, the 6th and 8th Buffs were thrown into assaults against an enemy line that had not been sufficiently ‘softened’ by artillery fire. Counter-battery work was in its infancy, and the prerequisite of efficient observation to direct the guns was not achieved. When the 6th Buffs attacked, they did so against a line of trenches hidden behind a low ridge that had escaped observation and had, therefore, not been bombarded at all. The attacks also demanded much from inexperienced troops, most glaringly in the case of the 8th Buffs. But, as has been argued, to blame the failure of these assaults on this factor does not provide a sufficient explanation. Thus, the 6th and 8th Buffs at Loos reveal in microcosm the weaknesses of the expanding BEF in 1915. Interestingly, historians of the Buffs refer to Loos in far darker terms than those used for the later allegedly more disillusioning experiences of the Somme and Third Ypres, revealing a lingering sense of bitterness over the conduct of this particular battle.

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Moody, writing in 1922, concluded his thoughts on Loos with this quizzical comment: ‘It still remains a question whether the British sacrifices there were worth the results obtained.’⁷² Reinforcement was now the most pressing issue for the 6th and 8th Buffs. On 7 October, a new commanding officer of the 8th Buffs joined, Major A. P. H. Trueman of the 1st Buffs. Two days later the reinforcement process continued as a draft of 396 OR and 4 officers arrived.⁷³ At the end of November the posting of 113 OR from the 1st and 2nd Buffs stiffened the 6th Buffs.⁷⁴ It can be seen that the Buffs were trying to maintain a sense of regimental cohesion by ensuring reinforcement from among their own. However, perhaps the most significant alteration was the appointment of an outsider to command the 6th Buffs. Major H. R. E. Pratt, a Regular Indian Army officer then serving with the 5th Northants, replaced Lieutenant-Colonel Eaton. Eaton had been traumatised by the experience of Loos, and had written to his Brigade Major requesting to be relieved of his command: . . . In view of the facts that the casualties amongst other ranks in the Battalion under my command have been extremely heavy and that the majority of its officers who have served for any length of time have been killed, I feel that there is no course open to me than to report that I do not personally feel physically capable of reorganizing and reforming the battalion. I need hardly say that it is extremely painful to me to have to write this, but I could never forgive myself if any want of action on my part carried any disaster . . .⁷⁵

Eaton’s collapse reveals both the stresses imposed by modern war and the gradual evolution of a more effective force. As has been noted, when the recruits rushed to join the New Armies, the army had been forced to employ an eclectic collection of officers as battalion commanders. The arrival of these New Army units on the Western Front was the first real test of the various ‘dug-outs’, and some had been found wanting often on age and fitness grounds. During the winter of 1915–16 such men were being weeded out and sent home. Pratt himself was originally earmarked for the 7th Buffs to replace Lieutenant-Colonel Elmslie; the problem thrown up by Eaton’s actions meant Elmslie was not in fact replaced until January 1916.⁷⁶ In addition, Major Trueman, the 8th Buffs’ commanding officer, also proved unable to cope with the pressures of command and was invalided out in February 1916 with shell shock.⁷⁷ He was then replaced with another Regular Buffs officer, Captain L. W. Lucas, also of the 1st Buffs.⁷⁸ A vital corollary of these alterations in officer personnel was the training of the new recruits. The 8th Buffs began its process of trench orientation on 5 October in the Hill 60 sector of the Ypres salient attached to troops of the 9 Division.⁷⁹ December then witnessed an intensive period of training with an emphasis on company tactics and the specialists.⁸⁰ The 6th Buffs went through a similar process which was doubtless assisted by the addition of former 1st and 2nd Buffs soldiers.⁸¹ Although winter brought with it foul weather and reduced the trenches to muddy swamps, there was no corresponding stagnation of activity. Sir John

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French wanted to maintain the offensive spirit through raiding and other minor enterprises, a directive his successor, Sir Douglas Haig, agreed with. The 6th Buffs in particular became an instrument of this policy in March 1916 while occupying trenches in the Vermelles sector. Constant mining and counter-mining had turned no man’s land into a crazy pattern of craters. On 5 March, the 6th Buffs was instructed to clear the Germans from certain craters and straighten the line by driving the enemy out of various trenches at 6 p.m. on the following evening.⁸² The close proximity of the lines and the maze of craters meant bombs and rifle grenades were of great value. But evidence on the availability of such equipment is mixed. The brigade war diary refers to the creation of a dump of 5,000 grenades, 250 rifle grenades, and 16 boxes of small arms ammunition. (Rifle-grenades came in two types. The first was a small bomb mounted on a rod which was inserted into the barrel of the rifle and then fired by a blank round; the second was a Mills Bomb discharged from a special cup fitted to the muzzle of the rifle which made it ideal for clearing trenches and attacking small strong points.) By contrast, the 6th Buffs war diary states: ‘Very few bombs available and all spare men employed in carrying them up from Brigade store.’⁸³ The attack on the Triangle and the Chord was led by C company in three parties. On the right, Lieutenant Cumberbatch’s entire party became casualties as they were immediately bogged down in the swampy ground. Second Lieutenant Butler’s party broke into the Chord where they remained until their bomb supply failed forcing them to retire. A similar fate met the party led by Second Lieutenant Smeltzer, a pre-war Buffs NCO who had recently been commissioned, and that under Captain Ward. About 80 men became casualties including 30 OR and 1 officer killed, mainly by grenades.⁸⁴ An analysis of the assault in the war diary provided four reasons for the failure: The failure of the attack was due (1) to the preparedness of the enemy (2) the muddy condition of the ground which rendered the right party’s advance impossible (3) the short notice given, rendering it impossible to reconnoitre or work out details thoroughly (4) the fact that the Battalion holding the line and holding it weakly, could not follow up his first attack with reinforcements.⁸⁵

All four points reveal a hiatus in understanding between those devising such schemes and those called upon to carry them out. Success could be achieved in both large- and small-scale operations on the Western Front, but they demanded a high degree of co-operation between the deviser and the executors. Grip had to be exerted at all levels and method imposed. These explanations of the events around the crater may have failed to convince higher authorities for three days later Pratt was called back to England and replaced by Major T. G. Cope of the Royal Fusiliers.⁸⁶ Pratt’s demise may also have been connected to suspicions about the state of the battalion’s morale and discipline in the spring of 1916 (see also Chapters 1 and 5 for further discussions of this issue). In a further report drawn up for the 37 IB, the difficulty of maintaining the ammunition supply was mentioned,

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including that for the Lewis gun; other 12 Division reports also record the use of this weapon in defence of the crater section which reveals that at least a limited number had been distributed to the battalions, and they were being employed.⁸⁷ In 1915 the BEF was forced to confront a form of warfare its pre-war thinking had not considered, namely that of flank-less stalemate. Edmonds summed up the challenge thrown down by this new scenario succinctly and critically: The Allies were in reality confronted by siege-warfare, but by some mischance it was named and treated as ‘trench warfare’, something little different to open warfare. The broad conception of their operations, indeed, varied little from that of open warfare as evolved in pre-war ‘doctrine’ and laid down in pre-war manuals, where trenches and barbed wire did not exist. Trench-warfare came to be regarded as a special problem to be solved by ‘the bomb and the bayonet’, and the old lessons of siege-warfare not applied. As an unkind critic said, every endeavour was made to convert what was in reality an ‘engineer and artillery war’ into a ‘cavalry war’; instead of gun and mine preparing a way for the infantry, it was the infantry which was expected to open a door for an inroad of horsemen against the enemy’s rear. A fresh vocabulary was created to meet the supposed new conditions. Instead of using the old fashioned-word ‘breach’, the higher commands called troops to make a ‘gap’; a ‘retrenchment’ became a ‘switch’; a ‘sap’ was not made by sapping; ‘mining’ was renamed ‘tunnelling’; ‘subsidiary’ attacks, mere demonstrations that could not possibly be developed into a ‘break-through’, took the place of ‘false’ attacks, but also of the minor attacks of the old days; and the new words were misleading.⁸⁸

However, as was stated in the previous chapter, the situation facing the BEF did not so much require a complete switch of approach from one system to another as a flexible integration of fighting methods: 1916 would make this demand still more insistent. During 1915 the Buffs went through a range of experiences. Slowly the BEF was gaining the weapons it required, but the difficulties imposed by limited supply combined with the problem of large numbers of partially trained men resulted in the pragmatic, and in the circumstances, sensible decision to create specialist teams capable of handling them. The Buffs battalions therefore began the process of creating bombing, sniping, and Lewis gun teams.⁸⁹ Equipment deficiencies went well beyond new weapons, however, and included what might be considered basic kit: in particular the continued shortage of steel helmets. The historian of 18 Division noted that when the first consignment was issued in November 1915, they were marked trench stores and there were only six per company. It was not until June 1916 that each man received his own personal and permanent issue.⁹⁰ This period of transition also saw the gradual weeding-out of officers deemed unsatisfactory. The 6th Buffs changed commanding officer three times in the six months between October 1915 and March 1916; the 8th Buffs lost a commanding officer in action, but then witnessed the replacement of the new one within a further four months; after just over four months on the Western Front, the 7th Buffs exchanged its commanding officer. For the 1st Buffs much of 1915 and the spring of 1916 was about the maintenance of professional standards in terms of a high level of aggression

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despite a significant turnover of personnel. This spirit of aggression was matched by the intelligent, enthusiastic men of the 6th and 7th Buffs who were very keen to learn and deploy new skills. But, during the same period, the Buffs also suffered from the shortcomings of the BEF in 1915, seen most awfully in the experiences of the 6th and 8th Buffs at Loos, as the British army lurched through the rapid gear change from imperial gendarmerie to Expeditionary Force capable of sustained operations against a first-class European power. NOTES 1. John Terraine neatly summed up these dilemmas in the 1915 chapter titles of his onevolume history of the war, The First World War, 1914–1918 (London: Hutchinson, 1965): ‘Seapower and Sideshows’, ‘Attrition or Evasion?’, ‘The Great “If ” ’, ‘The Year of Groping’. 2. J. E. Edmonds, Military Operations France and Belgium, 1915, Vol. 2 (London: Macmillan, 1928) v–xi. For a more detailed discussion of the strategic background see David French, British Strategy and War Aims 1914–1916 (London: Allen & Unwin, 1986) and William Philpott, Anglo-French Relations and Strategy on the Western Front, 1914–1918 (Basingstoke: Macmillan, 1996). 3. Not all of the New Army divisions were sent to the Western Front. Some were sent to other fronts, particularly Gallipoli. See Martin Middlebrook, Your Country Needs You: The Expansion of the British Army Infantry Divisions 1914–1918 (Barnsley: Leo Cooper, 2000) 85–92. 4. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 1 June 1916; WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, 28 July 1915; WO 95/2207 8th Buffs WD, 1 Sept. 1915. 5. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, June 1916. 6. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, Aug. 1916. 7. WO 95/1822 12 Division WD, July, Aug. 1915. 8. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 16 July, 4, 5 Aug. 1915. 9. See Tony Ashworth, Trench Warfare 1914–1918: The Live and Let Live System (Basingstoke: Macmillan, 1980). 10. Major-General Sir Arthur B. Scott (ed.), P. Middleton Brumwell (compiler), The History of the 12th (Eastern) Division in the Great War, 1914–1918 (London: Nisbit & Co. Ltd., 1923), 9. 11. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs Diary, Aug.–Sept. 1915; IWM 129 Con Shelf, Robert Cude’s Diary, 29 Aug., 2 Sept. 1915; IWM 99/56/1 C. R. Smith’s Journal, Sept. 1916. 12. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, Aug., 25, 26 Sept. 1915. 13. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 9 April 1915. 14. Ibid., 10, 21, 23 April 1915. 15. The Diary of Wilfrid Saxby Barham Captain, ‘The Buffs’, during the Great War 1914–1915 Fermoy–Dover–Armentières–Ypres (London: printed for private circulation by R. E. Thomas & Co., 1918), 98, 102. 16. T. O. Marden, A Short History of the Sixth Division August 1914–March 1919 (London: Hugh Rees, 1920), 12. 17. WO 95/1605 16 IB WD, June 1915.

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18. See Robin Prior and Trevor Wilson, Command on the Western Front (Oxford: Blackwell, 1992), 17–134. 19. Edmonds, Military Operations, 1915, Vol. 2, 105. 20. Ibid., 106. 21. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 8 Aug. 1915; WO 95/1605 16 IB WD, Operational Order 2, 6 Aug. 1915; WO 95/1581 6 Division WD, Operational Order No. 27, 5 Aug. 1915; Edmonds refers to these orders taking up ‘many typewritten sheets’, Military Operations, 1915, Vol. 2, 106. 22. Edmonds, Military Operations, 1915, Vol. 2, 107. For the problems of shell supply at Neuve Chapelle see Peter Fraser, ‘The British “Shells Scandal” of 1915’, Canadian Journal of History, xviii/1 (1983), 69–86. 23. Edmonds, Military Operations, 1915, Vol. 2, 106–8. 24. Ibid. 25. WO 95/1581 6 Division WD, Operational Order 27, 5 Aug. 1915. 26. WO 95/1605 16 IB WD, Operational Order 2, 6 Aug. 1915. 27. WO 95/1581 6 Division WD, Note dated 5 Aug. 1915. 28. WO 95/1605 16 IB WD, Operational Order 2, 6 Aug. 1915. 29. Diary of Wilfred Saxby Barham, 245–6. 30. WO 95/1605 16 IB WD, Plan of attack for the morning of 8th August. 31. WO 95/1605 16 IB WD, 16 IB note on the operation dated 6 Aug. 1915. Sir William Congreve, 6 Division commander, told the men that the Commander of II Corps had picked them because he knew they ranked among the best. ‘He would not minimise the difficulties of the job, but the battalion would remember their past record and the fact that the eyes of Kent were upon them.’ WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 5 Aug. 1915. 32. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 9 Aug. 1915. 33. Edmonds, Military Operations, 1915, Vol. 2, 108. 34. Ibid.; WO 95/1605 16 IB WD, 10 Aug. 1915. 35. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 10 Aug. 1915. 36. Ibid. 37. Ibid. 38. Ibid. 39. Ibid. 40. Ibid. 41. R. S. H. Moody, Historical Records of the Buffs, East Kent Regiment 1914–1919 (London: Medici Society, 1922), 90. 42. Edmonds, Military Operations, 1915, Vol. 2, 108. 43. Ibid., 106. 44. A similar situation had prevailed at the Battle of Neuve Chapelle in March 1915, as Prior and Wilson have pointed out. On day one of the battle the BEF set itself limited objectives and applied its artillery to neutralise enemy resistance. The day was generally successful, but the plan broke down when the BEF attempted to overstretch itself by setting deeper objectives and maintaining the offensive beyond the capabilities of the artillery and supply system. See Prior and Wilson, Command on the Western Front, 19–73. 45. Edmonds, Military Operations, 1915, Vol. 2, 109. 46. See Peter Simkins, Kitchener’s Army: The Raising of the New Armies, 1914–1916 (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1988), 278–95; Paddy Griffith, Battle

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47. 48. 49. 50. 51. 52. 53. 54. 55. 56. 57. 58. 59. 60. 61. 62. 63.

64. 65. 66. 67. 68. 69. 70.

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Tactics of the Western Front: The British Army’s Art of Attack 1916–1918 (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1994), 112–16. Griffith, Battle Tactics, 120–34. The 6th Buffs’ WD records that by the end of August 1915 it had three machine guns, but it does not specify whether these were of the Vickers or Lewis type. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, ‘Field State Return’, Aug. 1915. Edmonds, Military Operations, 1915, Vol. 2, 111–30. Prior and Wilson, Command on the Western Front, 100–16. Ibid. For a full history of the Battle of Loos see Nicholas Lloyd, ‘The British Expeditionary Force and the Battle of Loos’, unpublished Ph.D. thesis, Birmingham, 2005. Prior and Wilson, Command on the Western Front, 116. Edmonds, Military Operations, 1915, Vol. 2, 294. WO 95/2207 8th Buffs WD, Sept. 1915. Edmonds, Military Operations, 1915, Vol. 2, 139–40. WO 95/2207 8th Buffs WD, 21–5 Sept. 1915; Edmonds, Military Operations, 1915, Vol. 2, 276–7. WO 95/2207 8th Buffs WD, 25 Sept. 1915. Edmonds, Military Operations, 1915, Vol. 2, 284–8; WO 95/2207 8th Buffs WD, 25 Sept. 1915. Edmonds, Military Operations, 1915 Vol. 2, 315–22. IWM Reid memoir, 43–5. Ibid. Edmonds, Military Operations, 1915, Vol. 2, 323–33. The calmness referred to by Edmonds may well have been exhaustion. Having burnt so much adrenalin getting to the German line, the men were probably falling back drained. The oral historian of the Great War, Richard Van Emden, was curious as to why the men in photographs of 1 July 1916 at Beaumont Hamel appear to be retiring so casually when they were under fire. Taff Gillingham of the Khaki Chums fitted him out in full 1916 kit, told him to run 200–300 hundred yards, then turn round and attempt to run back. ‘I was very tired . . . I had been taught a good lesson. The physical exertions these men had undertaken, regardless of the energy used up in nervous tension or the adrenalin coursing through their bodies, was the reason why they were walking. They couldn’t have done anything else.’ Richard Van Emden, The Trench: Experiencing Life on the Front Line, 1916 (London: Bantam Press, 2002), 1–2. Edmonds, Military Operations, 1915, Vol. 2, 333–4; Moody, Historical Records, 95–8. WO 95/2207 8th Buffs WD, 27 Sept. 1915, 11 Oct. 1915; Soldiers and Officers Died in the Great War (Sussex: CD-Rom, Naval and Military Press, 1998). Edmonds, Military Operations, 1915, Vol. 2, 341. For an interesting and succinct summary of the debates see Tim Travers, The Killing Ground: The British Army, the Western Front and the Emergence of Modern Warfare, 1900–1918 (London: Unwin Hyman Ltd., 1987), 16–19. WO 95/2189 24 Division WD Aug. 1915–July 1916. Edmonds, Military Operations, 1915, Vol. 2, 370. On the previous day, the 12 Division had lost its highly regarded commanding officer, Major-General Wing, killed by shellfire. Scott and Brumwell, 12th Division, 19.

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71. Ibid., 20–4; WO 95/1860, 6th Buffs WD, 13 Oct. 1915; Edmonds, Military Operations, 1915, Vol. 2, 382–3. 72. Moody, Historical Records, 91. Scott and Brumwell, the historians of the 12 Division, were equally unconvinced by the operations, and stated rather tartly: ‘It was argued that while this position remained in German hands, winter in the British trenches would be unendurable, an opinion that must have changed subsequently, as not until the end of the war did we get possession of Fosse 8.’ Scott and Brumwell, 12th Division, 18. 73. WO 95/2207 8th Buffs WD, 7, 9 Oct. 1915. 74. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 29 Nov. 1915. The battalion had already received a draft of twenty-nine men from the 1st and 2nd Buffs, which was doubtless designed to provide it with a leavening of experienced NCOs and men. See WD, 3 July 1915. 75. WO 374/21808 W. A. Eaton File. Letter from Eaton, 17 Oct. 1915. During 1916 Eaton made strenuous attempts to be reinstated to active command having been sent back to England. Haig, however, quashed every request and insisted that he be employed on home duties. See letter from Haig, 23 May 1917. 76. WO 374/21808; WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, 9 Jan. 1916. 77. NAM 2002-02-913 Lieutenant Eric Foster Hall MC Diary, 15 Feb. 1916. 78. Ibid., 12 March 1916. 79. WO 95/2207 8th Buffs WD, 5 Oct. 1915. 80. Ibid., Dec. 1915. 81. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, Nov. 1915. 82. Ibid., 5 March 1916; WO 95/1858 37 IB WD, IB Order 31 5 March 1916. 83. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 5 March 1916. 84. Ibid., 6 March 1916; Soldiers and Officers Died CD-Rom. 85. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 6 March 1916. 86. Ibid., 9, 15 March 1916. 87. WO 95/1858 37 IB WD, Report on the Actions of 6 March 1916; WO 95/1823 12 Division WD, 1–12 March 1916. 88. J. E. Edmonds and C. Wynne, Military Operations France and Belgium, 1915, Vol. 1 (London: Macmillan, 1927), 152–3. 89. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 1, 22 Oct. 1915, 22 Jan., 17 Feb. 1916; WO 95/2046 55 IB WD, Report on Trench Warfare, Nov. 1915, 1 Dec. 1915; WO 95/2207 8th Buffs WD, 3 Dec. 1915. The history of the 6 Division refers to the creation of Machine Gun Corps companies, trench mortar, and light trench mortar, batteries during the spring of 1916 reinforcing this concept. Marden, 6 Division, 16–17. 90. G. H. F Nichols (Quex), The 18th Division in the Great War (Edinburgh and London: William Blackwood & Sons, 1922) 33.

4 Raiding, 1915–1918: Learning on the Job or Unnecessary Attrition? The value of trench raids has been much debated by military historians. Fuelled by the often contradictory and strident memories of veterans, the controversy over raiding has not yet reached a consensus. Arguments in favour of raiding suggest that it honed skills and fostered an aggressive spirit in men who might otherwise have atrophied into the apathetic routines of trench warfare; while those against the policy have contended that raiding merely drained battalions of their most intrepid and resourceful officers and men for little overall gain.¹ Examining the experiences of the Buffs reveals that the issue of raiding and its value is an extremely complex one that makes it difficult to sustain a simple and clear conclusion as to its value and impact. With the formation of trench lines in the winter of 1914 the war on the Western Front settled into stalemate. The problem facing the opposing sides was whether the men holding the front line should engage in any form of active aggression when no formal offensive was actually being pursued. Units appear to have taken matters into their own hands by patrolling no man’s land and organising small sallies into the enemy lines or other aggressive activity. A good example is provided by the 1st Buffs in April 1915 when the battalion made a conscious effort to harass the enemy by mortar, rifle and sniper fire.² The commander-in-chief of the British Expeditionary Force, Sir John French, formalised this situation in the early spring of 1915 when he ordered a raiding policy. For French the raid was the way to combine ‘on the job’ training with the quest for aggressive moral supremacy over the enemy. British troops were to dominate no man’s land and impress on the Germans their superior morale and desire to win: . . . we are for the moment acting on the defensive so far as serious operations are concerned, but this should not preclude the planning and making of local attacks on a comparatively small scale, with a view to gaining ground and of taking full advantage of any tactical or numerical inferiority on the part of the enemy. Such enterprises are highly valuable, and should receive every encouragement, since they relieve monotony and improve the moral of our own troops, while they have a corresponding detrimental effect on the moral of the enemy’s troops and tend in a variety of ways to their exhaustion and general disquiet.

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Further, as you are well aware, enterprises of this nature constitute the most effective form of defence, since by throwing upon the enemy anxiety for his own security, they help to relieve our own troops from the wearying and demoralising effects produced by expected attacks on the part of the enemy.³

Mindful of the fact that raiding should indeed serve to heighten morale French warned his commanders that raids should be carefully planned and not stretch the limits of prudence. In addition, all successful raids and raiders were to be given the utmost praise, publicity, and reward. In this way French hoped to stimulate a healthy competitive atmosphere within his armies.⁴ During the course of 1915 the raid slowly evolved. The 1st Worcester conducted the first genuine raid identified by the Official History in February 1915, and the model raid plan was produced in November 1915 by the 5th and 7th Canadian battalions.⁵ But raiding during this period lacked in rigour and system and it is difficult to detect any great desire to impose a regular programme of raiding on the infantry. The 6 Division, of which the 1st Buffs was a part, made no raids at all in 1915 according to its printed history. However, the divisional war diary does record that patrolling and reconnaissance of enemy positions increased significantly from the spring of 1915.⁶ Official enthusiasm undoubtedly rose when Sir Douglas Haig assumed command of the BEF in December 1915. A rigorous raiding policy solved a number of problems for Haig. First, he was constrained by the allied conference of December 1915 to launch an offensive in the summer of 1916, but the raw Kitchener volunteer divisions of the New Armies were utterly lacking in experience. Second, he required the enemy to be worn down before he initiated his main offensive operations. Third, he needed to convince the doubting French that the British were fully committed to the war on the Western Front and were prepared to make equal sacrifices. The raid therefore fitted Haig’s needs and perceptions perfectly. It expressed his concept of ‘ceaseless attrition’ by engaging the enemy, met his obligations to the French, while also protecting the main body of his force from large-scale assaults before his major offensive.⁷ In his first despatch Haig highlighted the qualities he believed raids instilled, and in the process revealed a similar mindset to French: The character of these operations—the preparation of a road through our wire and the enemy’s wire—the crossing of the open ground unseen—the penetration of the enemy’s trenches—the hand to hand fighting in the darkness and the uncertainty as to the strength of the opposing force—gives peculiar scope to the gallantry, dash and quickness of decision of the troops engaged; and much skill and daring are frequently displayed in these operations. The initiative in these minor operations was taken, and on the whole has been held, by us; but the Germans have recently attempted some bold and well-conceived raids against our lines.⁸

Raiding became a systematised part of army policy, and it superseded the few ad hoc raids organised during 1915. This policy was given practical direction by

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the publication of a manual outlining the procedures and tactics of raiding in March 1916. Before examining the effect of raiding on the Buffs in detail, it is worth placing the battalions within the context of their divisional structures and the BEF as a whole. Ashworth has established that from 19 December 1915 to 30 May 1916 the British made 63 raids involving between 10 and 200 men. During June 1916 forty-three raids were mounted and were designed to confuse and wear out the enemy prior to the main battle, which lends credence to his argument that the Somme was supposed to be the second phase of the wearing-out stage and the herald of the decisive phase. From July to December 1916 310 raids were made: First Army made 166, Second 104, Third 40. This was the peak of British raiding. After the Somme the frequency of raiding fell away: from 9 April to December 1917 there were 270 raids, while in the period 8 December to March 1918 125 raids were carried out.⁹ Appendix 2a provides the Buffs’ raiding record, and the statistics for the 6, 12, and 24 divisions, which reveal variants on the overall patterns established by Ashworth. The 6, 12, and 24 Divisions do not, conform to the general pattern and frequency of raiding as outlined by Ashworth. The run-up to, and duration of, the Battle of the Somme did not see the peak of their raiding activity. In 6 Division’s case this might have been because its line-holding duties in the Ypres salient in 1915–16 were highly arduous which left little time to plan and execute raids, and only three were mounted in the run-up to the Somme. By contrast, during 1917 the division became much more active, particularly in the run-up to, and aftermath of, the German retreat to the Hindenburg line as it carried out eight raids. Excluded from major offensive action until November, the division was given the time and manpower to raid. The majority of 6 Division raiding activity was therefore in the first six months of 1917, and concentrated in the Armentières–Lens–Loos area. 6 Division’s vigorous efforts in this zone prove that the lack of major military activity on this front after 1915 did not make it a quiet sector. A high level of activity was maintained in 1918 with six raids carried out despite the fact that it lost three battalions due to disbandment, was caught up in the German spring offensive, and then spent the last two months of the war in near continual battle action. The brigade that raided most consistently was the 71 IB. 2nd S. Foresters raided four times, the other brigade members three times. In 16 IB the 1st Buffs raided four times, 8th Beds and 1st KSLI three times, and 2nd York and Lancs just twice. 18 IB shows greatest intensity: 2nd DLI raided six times, 11th Essex, four, 14th DLI, four and 1st Leics, three. In no instance did a service battalion raid more times than a regular one in any one brigade. However, one service battalion did equal the joint second number of raids, the 11th Essex shared this ranking with 1st Buffs and 2nd S. Foresters, while the fewest number of raids were also by regular battalions (1st W. Yorks and 2nd York and Lancs). As a Regular division diluted with service battalions the core of remaining pre-war professionals in the

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Regular battalions probably felt the onus to maintain an aggressive stance and set the tempo for each brigade. The 1st Buffs raided in the initial phase of raiding, not in the most intense phase, but in the periods immediately before and after it peaked, and in the final phase of 6 Division raids. In terms of the frequency of raids, a similar pattern can be detected in the 12 Division. The run-up to the Battle of the Somme and the period of its duration was not the peak of the division’s raiding activity. As with the 6 Division, late 1915 and early 1916 saw the division in a state of almost constant aggressive activity on a medium scale that left little time for raids. A further similarity can be detected in the most active periods which was also during 1917, but with a particular bias towards the second half of the year when the division appears to have supported the offensive at Ypres by aggressive action elsewhere. Compared with the 6 Division, it is very noticeable that the 12 Division took part in far fewer raids. Some suggestions can be made to explain this discrepancy. In part it can be attributed to the high number of times the 12 Division was committed to battle, and the frequency with which it was returned back to battle (as explored in following chapters). By contrast, for a Regular division, the 6 had a relatively quiet war in terms of battle. However, it is equally clear that between its battles it maintained a far more aggressive attitude than the 12 Division. It could be suggested that 12 Division’s frequent appearances in major battles meant that it had less time to absorb recruits and therefore disrupted the planning and execution of raids. This argument is undermined a little when measured against crude statistics, for the 12 Division suffered five thousand fewer casualties than the 6, but it needs to be noted that the 12 Division arrived on the Western Front some eighteen months later than the 6.¹⁰ The most likely explanation of the difference probably lies in the remnants of Regular pre-war professionalism that were embedded in the 6 Division long after the attrition of the Western Front had destroyed its original composition. Breaking down the performance of individual brigades and units within the 12 Division, it can be seen that the 37 IB, which included the 6th Buffs, was the most aggressive. The stern professionalism of Brigadier-General Cator combined with his relatively lengthy period of command (February 1916–October 1917), which gave him the opportunity to impress himself on all aspects of the brigade, was probably the reason for this dominance. Within the brigade the 6th Queen’s and the 6th Buffs were the most active with a raiding total more than double that of the 7th E. Surrey and 6th RWK. The 35 IB was more or less in touch with the 37 IB completing nine raids, but the 36 IB lagged a good way behind with three. During the last six months of the war the only unit of the 36 IB to complete a raid was one that had been transferred from the 35 IB (5th Berks). The reasons for this lack of activity are difficult to detect without a much closer study of the mechanics of the brigade. It had as much continuity in terms of commanders as the other two brigades and does not appear to have been committed to battle with any greater frequency. These vagaries and variations may well be explained by the particular

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personalities of individual commanding officers and brigadiers, which then helped to either reinforce or dilute official doctrine and practice. The raiding record of the 24 Division reveals a similarity to that of the 12 Division, as both raided twenty-six times. However, the details of the record show numerous differences. Although the 12 and 24 Divisions fought at Loos, the 24 Division had the rougher ride, and it took a long time to recover from its disastrous debut in action. Committed to the Battle of the Somme, the division took part in operations in August and September which had an equally harsh effect on its strength. Rebuilt during the autumn and winter, the division was ready to test its new intakes by the turn of the year. From January to March 1917 the division raided eight times, but after this the numbers fell away as it was used to support operations during the Battle of Arras, and then played a role in the capture of Messines Ridge and the early stages of the Third Battle of Ypres. Raiding was resumed in the winter of 1917, and was maintained consistently during 1918. The consistency of this raiding record no doubt reflected the fact that the division did not play a major role in operations during the final year of the war, and thus had the opportunity to stage raids. The 8th Buffs was far from the most active battalion in the division in this respect carrying out two raids during the course of the war, but it should be remembered that the battalion was disbanded in February 1918. The four battalions with higher figures (four, four, four, three raids) were all regular units, but one regular unit, 2nd Leinster, carried out only one, as did two other battalions. Only one battalion failed to raid at all, the 9th R. Sussex. Overall, the 17 IB, nominally a regular unit but containing two service battalions (the 8th Buffs and 12th R. Fusiliers) was the most active, which was probably because the brigade felt the responsibility to lead the division. Of the four Buffs battalions that fought on the Western Front for the majority of the war only one failed to raid at all, the 7th Buffs. On the surface this might appear a surprise for it was part of the elite 18 Division. However, closer inspection soon reveals the reason behind this apparently poor performance. As a highly rated unit, the division took part in a succession of battles and was often allocated very hard tasks. This consistent use in battle meant few battalions ever had the chance (or manpower) to plan and execute raids. Research into the 18 Division’s record has identified twenty-one raids ten of which were in the period from April to June 1916. The 18 Division thus fits Ashworth’s pattern, but having won its reputation on the Somme, it never had a chance to repeat this feat. As noted earlier, French saw raiding as a way of fostering the aggressive spirit, a position he shared with Haig. Haig then took raiding one stage further by also making it a formal part of his strategy of attrition and the ‘wearing out’ of the enemy. These twin policy objectives rather hide the subtleties behind raids at battalion level. Although the maintenance of an aggressive attitude was implicit, the way a raid was planned and executed varied according to desired outcome. Some raids were designed to cause localised destruction and disruption to the enemy, whereas others were more overtly concerned with the acquisition of information and intelligence.

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These differing reasons can be traced in Buffs’ raids. The very first raid made by the regiment, executed by the 1st Buffs in March 1916, was designed to identify the opposing unit. Comments in the war diary reveal that this was no trivial matter: ‘We are in the unhappy position of not knowing who is in front of us, consequently great efforts being made to secure a prisoner.’¹¹ At the brigade level a different motivation dominated. Brigadier-General C. L. Nicholson wrote: ‘Apart from the information obtained I think the chief value of the enterprise is to impress upon the enemy that No Man’s Land is really ours and that we can interfere with anything he is trying to do in the crater otherwise than by artillery fire or by grenades fired from our trenches.’ (emphasis added)¹² Moral as well as physical supremacy was therefore the underlying objective. A similar plurality of motivations can be detected in a raid made by the 6th Buffs in August 1917. Lieutenant-Colonel A. S. Smeltzer stated that his intentions were to enter the enemy front line trench ‘killing any survivors’, then ‘obtain identifications’ and finally destroy dug-outs ‘doing as much damage as possible’.¹³ Immediate practical necessities were therefore balanced against longer-term objectives. The first raid carried out by the 8th Buffs revealed much the same dual motivations. Instructed to begin preparations for a raid on 22 May, the 8th Buffs’ effort was part of the disruption, disorientation, and attrition programme devised as a vital preliminary to the Battle of the Somme.¹⁴ However, it was probably also part of the process of rebuilding the battalion after its terrible mauling at Loos in September 1915. This duality of motivations continued throughout 1917, the most intensive raiding period of the war for the Buffs. All four battalions had suffered heavy casualties on the Somme, and entered into a period of reconstruction in the winter of 1916–17. As fresh men were absorbed it became vital to instil experience and confidence and the raid was the ideal instrument of imparting such qualities without risking the whole battalion. Thus the localised needs of the battalions chimed neatly with Haig’s wider policy objectives. Keen to show that the BEF was capable of maintaining the offensive, raiding certainly represented a continuation of vigorous aggressive action, was a signal to the Germans that the British could shrug off the losses of the Somme and maintain the initiative in the grip of winter, and as such may well have contributed to the increasingly defensive attitude of the Germans on the Western Front. In order to assess the impact raiding had on the Buffs it is necessary to analyse the personnel involved. It is a lot easier to comment on officers than other ranks, as the names of officers were generally recorded whereas references to individual NCOs and privates are much fewer and further between, but the records do allow some conclusions to be drawn. Raiding parties were generally commanded by subalterns or trusted NCOs with a captain in overall control who sometimes left the trenches, but more generally appears to have supervised from the front line. Captain C. D. Gullick, who was on temporary secondment from the 6th Buffs, directed the 8th Buffs raid of June 1916. This procedure was obviously standard

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practice in both the 8th and 1st Buffs, as the records show that the raids of January, March, June 1917, and August 1918 were all under the control of a captain.¹⁵ The actual raiding parties tended to be led by junior officers. Examination of the records implies a rough pattern: early raids tended to be carried out by junior, but relatively experienced officers, but as the war progressed and raiding became less of a novelty and more systematised it was increasingly seen as a way of imparting experience and knowledge to recently arrived officers. This may also reveal that by the later stages of the war raiding was regarded as a training and leadership exercise designed to make up for any shortfalls in instruction prior to commissioning. Such a trend also appears to reveal a greater desire to husband the skills of more valuable officers by not committing them to the risky business of a raid. But this did not necessarily mean that the husbanding of certain officers made raiding less likely to inflict casualties on significant components of the battalion. When raids were placed under the command of very junior officers, it probably necessitated the use of more experienced NCOs to guide them, and such men were often highly important to the overall cohesion and efficiency of a unit. Tracing the record of officers who took part in raids highlights the trends noted above. In terms of the 1st Buffs three were killed and one taken prisoner. Of the three killed, two were Second Lieutenants (P. W. T. Davis killed in the second raid and P. C. Buss killed in the third) and one a Lieutenant (C. F. G. Hollis killed in the final raid). Davis had been with the battalion since January 1917 and the raid in March 1917 was probably viewed as something that would impart confidence and experience. A similar interpretation can be placed on Buss’s participation, for he too had arrived in January 1917. Lieutenant Hollis’ death in the final raid (August 1918) was the greatest loss in terms of experience. He had arrived on the eve of the Battle of Morval (September 1916), had served as the Divisional Signalling and Sniping Officer, and had been praised for his performance in the Battle of Cambrai.¹⁶ The officer casualties in 6th Buffs imply firmly that by 1918 it was the most junior, inexperienced, and recent arrivals that most often took part in raids. Second Lieutenants L. J. G. Davis, E. F. Robinson, and W. Towers, who participated in the raids in May and June 1918, had been with the battalion for only a month or so before taking part in these operations; when Second Lieutenant F. I. Sowter was killed on 9 August 1917, he had been with the battalion only seven weeks, having arrived from the Detail Camp on 17 May in the wake of the battalion’s heavy casualties at Arras.¹⁷ In only one instance has it been possible to identify the direct participation of more experienced officers in 6th Buffs raids. Second Lieutenants John Russell, who had been with the battalion since the previous summer, and W. H. Mason-Springgay led the raid on the Arras front on 9 August 1917. Mason-Springgay had been promoted from the ranks of the Royal East Kent Mounted Yeomanry, and reported for service on 1 September 1916. He then took part in the Battle of Le Transloy Ridges in October 1916, and in the aftermath of the Battle of Arras he took over temporary command of A Company. His

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experience and skills were recognised in the winter of 1917 when he was promoted to full lieutenant and then temporary captain in the spring of 1918 with which rank he finished the war.¹⁸ In the 8th Buffs a mixture of officers took part in raids. The first raid, in June 1916, was assigned to officers who had been with the battalion for some time. Second Lieutenants L. Anderson and W. H. Temple had joined the battalion in the winter of 1915, and Lieutenant E. Foster Hall commanding the covering party arrived in the autumn of 1915. It is harder to draw general conclusions about the second raid, as only one officer is mentioned by name, Second Lieutenant R. G. Phillips. This officer had joined the battalion in late 1916, and so it may be assumed that his inclusion in the raid was designed to provide him with experience of aggressive activity.¹⁹ By contrast, the 8th Buffs’ final raid of the war was led by Second Lieutenant F. W. Young, who had been with the battalion almost a year by the spring of 1917.²⁰ Unfortunately, it is much harder to trace any patterns amongst NCO and OR raiders. Evidence relating to non-officer participation is a great deal more patchy and inconsistent, and therefore it is difficult to know whether they were the preserve of veterans, fresh soldiers, or a mixture of the two. But, as noted earlier, there are clear hints that NCOs played important roles including the fact that the first raid made by the regiment was divided into three parties, two of which were commanded by NCOs. In addition, among the 1st Buffs records there is a scrap of paper which records the breakdown of Lieutenant Moss’s party for the raid on 24 June 1917. It shows that he commanded eight squads made up of a mixture of Lewis gunners, riflemen, bombers, and mobile charge setters. Each squad was under the command of an NCO, and it is obvious that the knowledge, initiative, and skill of these men were vital to the outcome of the venture.²¹ Turning to the raids themselves, it is necessary to analyse their structure and outcomes in order to ascertain whether raiding served any useful purpose or grew in sophistication during the course of the conflict. All of the available evidence points to a definite and clear learning curve in terms of planning, preparation, and results. When the 1st Buffs carried out its first raid in March 1916, the operation was cobbled together and the result of a more active patrolling policy. A year later, after the experience of the Somme, it was a very different affair. Unlike at Railway Wood in March 1916 when three small parties ventured into no man’s land, on this occasion the 1st Buffs sent a much larger force into the enemy trenches for some thirty minutes. Such an increase in ambition demanded an equal increase in planning, organisation, and resources.²² From 1917 raiding parties were withdrawn for specialist instructions and preparations. C and D companies of the 1st Buffs were taken off for a fortnight of intensive training for the raid at Hulluch in June 1917.²³ A year later Captain V. N. Moss, an avid collector and reader of training pamphlets, took equally great pains to plan and prepare a raid in the southern Ypres sector.²⁴ Evidence of increasing professionalism can also be detected in the service battalions. The 8th

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Buffs spent five days preparing for its first raid (28 June 1916), compared with a training programme staggered over nearly two months for its final raid (27 March 1917), a process which incorporated the integration of the platoon reorganisation of February 1917.²⁵ Advice, instruction, and comment were sought from a wide range of personnel, for the divisional war diary records the valuable contributions of Major Dix of the 2nd Leinster and Lieutenant-Colonel R. Pigot of the 3rd Rifle Bde to the battalion’s preparations.²⁶ Ambitions and expectations also increased throughout the war, and were a reflection of the growing maturity and expertise of the BEF, particularly in the wake of the Somme and Arras battles. Increasingly, divisions raided with more than one unit. In January 1917, the 8th Buffs raided with its fellow 17 IB battalion, the 12th R. Fusiliers. In the 12 Division raiding stretched across brigades, which must have demanded careful orchestration by the various staffs. The 6th Buffs raided in August 1917 in company with the 7th E. Surrey from its own brigade and the 7th Suffolk of the 35 IB. The manpower deployed provides an equally good indicator of the developing skills and ambitions. For its first raid, the 8th Buffs sent 3 officers and 100 OR, its second raid nearly eight months later consisted of 4 officers and 120 OR, while 2 officers and 125 OR accompanied the last raid. A similar upward trend can be identified in the 6th Buffs. But it was the 1st Buffs that committed the greatest numbers: no more than 50 officers and men in March 1916 to 4 officers and 105 OR in March 1916, and then 6 officers and 250 OR in June 1917. Raiding times also became longer. In January 1917 the 8th Buffs allocated three hours to its joint raid with the 12th R. Fusiliers, while the 6th Buffs in its joint brigade raid of August 1917 spent ninety minutes in no man’s land and the enemy trenches. The longest period spent in the enemy trenches was three and a half hours by the 1st Buffs in June 1917. These figures show the ever-increasing sophistication of raids, and imply that the pre-war Regular ethos was maintained despite reconstitution with drafts following heavy casualties.²⁷ In order to achieve success, the Buffs battalions not only relied upon internal planning and skills, but also had to co-operate with other infantry units and arms. Of greatest significance was careful liaison with artillery, mortar, and Machine Gun Corps units. The 1st Buffs’ raid in March 1917 was supported by a sophisticated barrage programme involving field and heavy artillery, machine guns, and trench mortars to cut wire, provide a creeping barrage and then a box barrage once the attackers were in the enemy trenches in order to stop the Germans from bringing up reinforcements. Such preparations evidently paid off, for the advance across no man’s land was described as ‘easy’, the German wire had been well cut by the British artillery, while the Brigade Machine Gun Company fired nearly 21,000 rounds of covering fire, and the raiding parties had no difficulty entering the enemy trenches.²⁸ When the enemy retaliated with a counter bombardment, it was reported as sporadic and ineffectual due to the confusion caused by the British dummy bombardments on nearby sections of the line.²⁹

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Close co-operation and planning with the artillery benefited the 8th Buffs’ raid of January 1917. The barrage was described as ‘perfect’ and the flanking mortar and machine gun barrages were also praised.³⁰ A similar degree of careful liaison was revealed by the 1st Buffs when the battalion raided in June 1917. The raiders were covered by an artillery and machine gun barrage fired not overhead, but from the flanks, and extra machine gun units were allocated to the 1st Buffs for this purpose. In addition, the Trench Mortar Battery sent one gun and crew along with the raiders, and the 9th Machine Gun squadron also supplied one gun and crew to the far crater lip on the southern flank.³¹ When the 6th Buffs prepared to raid in August 1917, the artillery paved the way by concentrating destructive fire on German dugouts and trenches; it then fired a barrage to protect the raiders as they formed-up before providing a box barrage. Eleven months later the 6th Buffs took part in its last raid of the war, after which all ranks spoke ‘very highly of the evenness and accuracy of the barrage under which they advanced’.³² Raiding also provided lessons in the deployment of infantry owned and controlled firepower. Bombing skills improved and men gained confidence in using mobile charges and detonators as trenches and dugouts were cleared and destroyed. This is evident in the 8th Buffs’ raid in June 1916, and the 1st Buffs’ raids of March and June 1917. In addition, raids gave the Buffs battalions the chance to improve their use of rifles, rifle-grenades, and Lewis guns. In the 12 Division combined raid of August 1917 the 6th Buffs used snipers and Lewis gun teams to provide flank protection for the 7th E. Surrey. The 1st Buffs employed eight Lewis gun teams to support its raid in June 1917, while the rifle grenadiers covered the Stokes mortar team as it set-up in the enemy lines, and disciplined rifle fire broke up a group of Germans assembling to counter-attack. Valuable information could then be distilled from these experiences and disseminated across an entire division. The men involved in the March 1916 1st Buffs’ raid were obviously very interested by the new rifle grenades and commented upon them. A report was drawn up for the Divisional Bombing Officer, Lieutenant Presnail, who had previously been the 1st Buffs’ bombing officer, highlighting the ways in which the grenades had been used and the advantages they had received from them.³³ The growing use and deployment of infantry-owned firepower is perceptible here, and reveals that the battalion was prepared to use and experiment with weapons. Reviewing the June 1917 raid in a report, the 1st Buffs’ commanding officer, Lieutenant-Colonel H. W. Green, believed the assault had been a great success and attributed it to a number of factors. First, he praised the keenness of Captain Jacobs and his thorough preparation and training, particularly the stress placed on musketry. This is an interesting point for it highlights the growing concerns in the BEF on standards of musketry and the desire to make the infantryman dependent upon his own firepower. He also laid great stress on the efficacy of tear gas bombs and grenades and urged the production of a special apron designed to carry more bombs. Artillery and machine gun fire was obviously extremely beneficial, subduing the enemy response and opening gaps in the wire. (The 6 Division’s 192 company Machine Gun Corps certainly felt

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happy with its role, for its war diary reported the covering fire to be ‘very successful.’)³⁴ Revealing a grasp of the wider teamwork involved, he commented favourably on the demonstrations and diversions carried out by flanking units and RE Field Companies. Finally, he noted the assistance given by the aerial photographs and reconnaissance information provided by the RFC.³⁵ Raiding had clearly evolved into something far more complex than a simple individual infantry unit plus artillery affair, and was an operation that taught many vital lessons. Raiding thus served to instruct men in new skills and hone those already acquired still further while complementing and maintaining the BEF’s wider strategic philosophy. The raids of 1917 were part of the process whereby the BEF perfected the art of ‘bite and hold’ operations. The choice of three mutually supporting and closely launched waves as the best way to overwhelm the enemy trenches for the 1st Buffs’ raid of March 1917 illustrates this point perfectly: here was battle formation on a model scale. Fulfilling the principles of ‘bite and hold’, the Buffs battalions, either singly or in conjunction with neighbouring units, set out to achieve clearly defined objectives using their own and supporting weapons. In the summer of 1918 the raid evolved again into an exercise designed to support open and semi-open warfare, as is revealed in the account of the 6th Buffs’ raid in May 1918 which mentions the skills shown by the raiders as they silently bypassed and outflanked the enemy’s forward posts in order to press on to the main objective. Infiltration and peaceful penetration were the sole preserve of neither the German nor Australian forces.³⁶ Raids demanded tactical awareness and confidence, and the records certainly provide evidence of this. Lieutenant Foster Hall recorded in his diary that although the Germans were fully alert when the 8th Buffs raided in June 1916, the experience raised confidence in moving around no man’s land at night.³⁷ The 8th Buffs and 12th R. Fusiliers donned white smocks and helmets in January 1917 to camouflage themselves in the snow-covered no man’s land.³⁸ Other examples of tactical innovation and imagination can be detected. In the weeks before the 1st Buffs’ raid in June 1917 dummy assaults were staged to confuse and disorient the enemy, while on the night of the raid itself, the flanking unit (8th Beds) staged its own fake assault, and the 509 Field Company manipulated model figures further along the line. At the conclusion of the raid a searchlight was deployed to assist the raiders home which was described as ‘invaluable’.³⁹ However, none of the above should detract from the fact that raiding was always a very risky business, and often caused significant casualties to the raiders. Occasionally raids went horribly wrong, even when conducted by experienced men, as happened in the 1st Buffs’ last raid of the war in August 1918 in the southern Ypres sector. Artillery preparation was thorough and flanking units assisted with fire support and other demonstrations, while the machine gun company fired 24,000 rounds in support.⁴⁰ Unlike all earlier raids, however, this one was carried out in daylight and was scheduled to last thirty minutes. At 7.05 a.m. four platoons from two companies (C and B) left the trenches and made for three

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different positions, the settlement of Brasserie, Brasserie Farm, and the ruins of a cabaret, while flanking units rushed to set up positions. The raiding units were under three officers, and the whole venture was under the command of Captain V. N. Moss, an experienced and long-serving officer, and keen student of tactics.⁴¹ Few problems were encountered on the outward leg and all objectives were reached. Prisoners were taken (the records are unclear as to how many) and the return began. At this point the trouble commenced as enemy machine guns suddenly opened up and made the final approach to the British line extremely difficult. It then became obvious that the rather sketchy British trenches, which had been hastily improvised after the retreats of the spring and early summer, provided very few places for the raiding party to enter safely. The raiders found themselves exposed in no man’s land and in shallow trenches, and casualties mounted. Only at nightfall was it possible to evacuate all the raiders, a delay that was fatal for many wounded men. Of the 3 officers and 100 OR who left the trenches, 1 officer was killed (the battalion medical officer was also killed) as were 25 OR. This represents a 33 per cent and 25 per cent fatality rate respectively, a much higher rate than either of the two previous raids.⁴² Even the usually stoic and reserved regimental historian concluded: ‘The casualties resulting from this minor affair were, in fact, far too high.’⁴³ A positive interpretation of the raid might draw attention to the fact that the majority of the raid went well, and that if the British trenches had been in a better state a great success might have been pulled off. On the reverse side, it could be said that raids had consistently revealed a propensity to high casualties despite thorough planning and preparation. The 6th Buffs had a similarly rough time during the 12 Division joint raid in August 1917. The 7th E. Surrey in the centre reached all its objectives, counted over a hundred enemy dead, killed sixty, and took twenty-five prisoners and a machine gun. Events were not quite so smooth on the 6th Buffs front. The left party failed to get into the enemy trenches suffering heavy enfilade fire from the moment it emerged from the British line, which in turn stripped the right party of sufficient covering fire thus nullifying its ability to advance to its final objective. Of the four officers on the raid two were killed and two wounded, while sixty-one of the eighty-six other ranks became casualties. The heavy losses incurred here once again force the wisdom and value of raiding into question. Brigadier-General Cator’s (37 IB) report on the operation goes some way towards explaining why the 6th Buffs lost so heavily, and revealed that glaring errors could still be made despite the experiences gained in the Battles of the Somme and Arras. He noted that while all ranks praised the performance of the Royal Field Artillery and the Stokes Mortar teams, the heavy artillery was criticised for failing to liaise with the infantry and for selecting observation posts which failed to give them a complete view over the area to be attacked.⁴⁴ The lessons of this raid appear to have been digested for the next attempt was on a much larger scale and involved far more detailed preparation. On 14 October the 37 and 35 IBs raided with 750 men preceded by a six-hour bombardment

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which included careful counter-battery fire. The 6th Buffs supported the main thrust made by the 6th RWK and 6th Queen’s; it resulted in the capture of 64 prisoners, including 1 officer, and 200 killed, 3 machine-guns were taken, 15 dugouts destroyed and 26 enemy batteries were neutralised. By contrast, the attackers suffered 6 officer and 17 OR fatalities, and 3 officers and 144 OR wounded and missing, with the 6th Buffs suffering only 1 OR fatality. The raid was pronounced ‘entirely successful’, and messages of congratulations were received from Haig, Byng (Commander Third Army), and the Corps commander.⁴⁵ Casualties incurred during raids varied considerably, as Appendix 2b shows. The figures might look very bleak when compared directly with the total casualties inflicted on the Germans. For example, the 1st Buffs raid of March 1917 took one prisoner along with a machine gun, a helmet, belt and bayonet, and three trench notice boards, and it was later estimated that at least 200 Germans had been killed. In return, the raiding party suffered 11 OR and 1 officer killed, representing an 11 per cent fatality rate among OR and 25 per cent among officers. The raid of 24 June 1917 saw 15 prisoners brought back and many enemy dugouts blown-in. On the flip side the 1st Buffs suffered 30 other ranks and 1 officer killed or died of wounds, and 1 officer, Second Lieutenant T. Harrington, recently commissioned from the battalion’s Warrant Officers, taken prisoner. The figures represent a 12 per cent fatality rate for OR and 10 per cent for officers. This crude comparison takes no notice of the overall effect, however, which was designed to sharpen both the aggressive spirit and the key skills of positional warfare. Critics of raiding often state that its most detrimental effect was on morale and cite this imbalance of casualties suffered and inflicted. This position was made official by the Kirke Committee’s 1932 investigation into the lessons revealed by the Great War. The Committee concluded that raiding seriously undermined morale and had been a grave mistake.⁴⁶ The evidence of the Buffs’ records suggests the position was not quite so clear-cut. Men who took part in raids were feted: they had time out of the line to prepare, and survivors could expect rewards in terms of medals and better rations. The 8th Buffs’ war diary for January 1917 states that the raiding party was taken off to Mazingarbe brewery for an evening of sumptuous eating and drinking. In addition, the raid was thought to have restored battalion honour after the Germans had fairly easily entered its section of trenches a few weeks earlier.⁴⁷ The 1st Buffs’ war diary contains the following comment on the final day of the June 1917 diary, a month in which the battalion had carried out a successful raid: ‘During this month the battalion has suffered very heavily and is at present very short of officers and men, but the morale of the men is very high, and their experiences of the last months, tends to make them more eager to get at the Enemy.’⁴⁸ Whether this comment was deliberately phrased to chime in with the sentiments of high command is hard to determine. Regardless, it still reveals a desire to maintain a professional and aggressive attitude towards the enemy. Lieutenant Eric Foster Hall’s diary entry following the 8th

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Buffs’ raid of 28 June 1916 notes that although the enterprise was not a complete success, morale was buoyed by the experience.⁴⁹ According to Tony Ashworth raiding destroyed live and let live by making violence unpredictable, it fostered a sense of revenge, and heightened the tensions of trench fighters. He believes that raids tended to increase the aggression of even non-aggressive members of a battalion thanks in part to the indiscriminate violence that a raiding battalion, was almost bound to suffer in response. For Ashworth, this counter-balanced somewhat the argument that raids tended to cause casualties among the most aggressive and skilful members of a battalion and ensured a more consistent and even spread of military skills.⁵⁰ Post-action reports make it clear that other ranks acted with initiative and boldness and reacted quickly to orders. Denis Winter, by contrast, has doubted the value of raiding and has quoted the following (un-footnoted) casualty statistics for raids carried out between 19 December 1915 and 30 June 1916: 5,845 dead and 119,292 wounded. It is difficult to know how Winter reached this figure for it appears to be taken from a statistic given in the Official History which includes not just raids, but also the German phosgene gas attack in December 1915, the German attack at the Bluff, German gas attacks at Hulluch and Wulverghem Forest and what might be called ‘minor operations’ at Hohenzollern redoubt, St Eloi, Vimy Ridge, and Mount Sorrel.⁵¹ Although both the 1st and 6th Buffs made the same number of raids (four), the evidence suggests that those of the 1st Buffs were slightly more sophisticated and slightly more ambitious than those of the 6th Buffs. Given that gaps in the records imply that the casualty figures for the 6th Buffs are almost certainly too low, it can also be concluded that the 1st Buffs was generally more professional and successful in its raiding. The 1st Buffs deployed a greater mix of experienced and inexperienced officers and this may well explain the difference between the two records. The 8th Buffs took part in two raids—one of which was carried out in conjunction with the 12th R. Fusiliers—and revealed that it was capable of careful planning and skilful execution, particularly the innovative use of white camouflage in January 1917. Casualty figures were lowest per raid in the 8th Buffs (10.5), for the 6th Buffs each raid cost on average 22.25 officers and men, and the 1st Buffs suffered the highest average loss with 45 casualties per raid. More experienced officers were always in overall control of raiding policy and played an important part in the planning. (Aside from the very first raid made by 1st Buffs, which appears to have been organised in a rather basic manner and by junior officers.) As noted earlier, no records have come to light listing OR volunteers, it is therefore hard to tell whether men were of long or short service or whether such tasks were the preserve of a small group who volunteered consistently. The later raids, especially those by the 1st Buffs, were planned with a good deal of intelligence and the exercise must have imparted still further expertise and skill. Raiding also reveals an increasingly sophisticated grasp and deployment of weapons that were eventually combined to good effect. Overall, the balance sheet

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might just be read in favour of raids for they undoubtedly forced officers and men to stretch themselves, consider their own actions, the reactions of the enemy, and the nature of their own and others’ weapons. In static positional warfare raiding was the only way to test and sharpen infantry skills short of major offensive operations. Whether large-scale offensive operations were consistently and relatively more damaging in terms of casualties will be addressed in subsequent chapters. NOTES 1. See, for example, Tony Ashworth, Trench Warfare 1914–1918, the Live and Let Live System (London: Macmillan, 1980); Basil Liddell Hart, A History of the First World War (London: Cassell, 1970); Lord Moran, The Anatomy of Courage (London: Constable, 1945); James Roberts, ‘Making the Butterflies Kill’, Stand To! The Journal of the Western Front Association, 68 (Sept. 2003), 38–44; Denis Winter, Death’s Men: Soldiers of the Great War (London: Penguin Allen Lane, 1978). 2. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 9, 10, 21, 23, 24 April 1915. 3. J. E. Edmonds and C. Wynne, Military Operations France and Belgium 1915, Vol. 1 (London: Macmillan 1927) 33–4. 4. Edmonds and Wynne, Military Operations 1915, Vol. 1, 33–4. 5. Ibid., 31. J. E. Edmonds, Military Operations France and Belgium 1916, Vol. 1 (London: Macmillan, 1932), 156 f.n. and Appendix volume, 42–8. 6. T. O. Marden, A Short History of the Sixth Division August 1914–March 1919 (London: Hugh Rees, 1920), Appendix II Diary; see for example WO 95/1581 6 Division WD, April 1915. 7. See Ashworth, Live and Let Live, chapter 8. 8. J. H. Boraston, Sir Douglas Haig’s Despatches (London: Dent, 1919) 3–4. 9. Ashworth, Live and Let Live, 185. 10. Figures taken from Marden, 6th Division, 81, and Major-General Sir Arthur B. Scott (ed.), P. Middleton Brumwell (compiler), The History of the 12th (Eastern) Division in the Great War, 1914–1918 (London: Nisbit & Co. Ltd., 1923) 254. 11. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 26, 28 Feb. 1916. 12. WO 95/1605 16 IB WD, Report 10 March 1916. 13. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs Operational Order No. 3, 6 Aug. 1917. 14. Ashworth, Live and Let Live, 185. 15. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 30 March, 24 June 1917, 1 Aug. 1918; WO 95/2207 8th Buffs WD, 26 Jan., 27 March 1917. 16. For information on these officers see: Army List, 1914–18, HMSO 1914–18; Soldiers and Officers Died in the Great War (Sussex: CD-Rom, Naval and Military Press, 1998); R. S. H. Moody, Historical Records of the Buffs, East Kent Regiment 1914–1919 (London: Medici Press, 1922) 230, 245–6, 324, 329; WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 24 Sept. 1916, 25 Oct. 1916, 3 Jan. 1917, 30 March 1917, 15 Jan. 1917, 11 Feb. 1917, 24 June 1917, 2 Aug. 1918. 17. Information drawn from Army List, 1914–18; WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD. 18. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD. 19. Army List, 1914–18.

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20. WO 95/2207 8th Buffs WD, 27 March 1918; Moody, Historical Records, 233; Army List, 1916. 21. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, Operational Order No. 50, 29 March 1917. 22. Ibid. 23. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 11 June 1917. 24. NAM 2001-02-895-1(-16) Captain Moss’s personal papers; Moody, Historical Records, 329; WO 96/1608 1st Buffs WD, 2 Aug. 1918. 25. WO 95/2207 8th Buffs WD, 28 Feb. 1917. 26. WO 95/2190 24 Division WD, Report on raid, 27 Jan. 1917; WO 95/2207 8th Buffs WD 8 Feb. 1917. 27. See individual brigade and battalion war diaries for these details in references already given. 28. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, Operational Order No. 50, 29 March 1917; WO 95/1601 16 Company Machine Gun Corps WD, 30 March 1917. 29. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 30, 31 March 1917; WO 95/1606 16 IB WD, 30 March 1917; Moody, Historical Records, 230. 30. WO 95/2207 8th Buffs WD, 27 Jan. 1917. 31. WO 95/1606 16 IB WD, Reports 25, 28 June 1917; WO 95/1601 6 Division 192 Company Machine Gun Corps WD, 24 June 1917. 32. WO 95/1859 37 IB WD, Report on Operations of the Night of 9 Aug. 1917; Moody, Historical Records, 335. 33. WO 95/1606 16 IB WD, 9 March 1916. 34. WO 95/1601 6 Division 192 Company Machine Gun Corps WD, 24 June 1917. 35. WO 95/1606 16 IB WD, Reports 25, 28 June 1917. 36. Ibid. 30 March 1917; Moody, Historical Records, 335. 37. NAM 2002-02-913 Lieutenant Eric Foster Hall MC Diary, 28 June 1916. 38. WO 95/2207 8th Buffs WD, 26 Jan. 1917. 39. WO 95/1606 16 IB WD, Report on 1st Buffs raid, dated 25 June 1917. 40. NAM 2002-02-913 Foster Hall Diary, 28 June 1916; WO 95/1601 192 Company Machine Gun Corps WD, 2 Aug. 1918. 41. NAM 2001-02-895-1(-16) Captain Moss’s personal papers. 42. WO 96/1608 1st Buffs WD, 2 Aug. 1918; NAM 2000-10-215-1 Major Lord Teynham’s orders for raid at Brasserie, 1 Aug. 1918. 43. Moody, Historical Records, 330. 44. See ibid. 260–1; Scott and Brumwell, 12th Division, 122; WO 95/1857 37 IB WD, Reports 10 Aug. 1917; WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 2, 9 Aug. 1917. 45. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 14 Oct. 1917; WO95/1857 37 IB WD, 14 Oct. 1917; Scott and Brumwell, 12th Division, 126–8. 46. I am grateful to Professor Gary Sheffield for pointing this out to me. 47. WO 95/2207 8th Buffs WD, 5, 26, 29 Jan. 1917. 48. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 30 June 1917. 49. Ibid. 50. See Ashworth, Live and Let Live, 72–5, 176–203. 51. Winter, Death’s Men, 92; Edmonds, Military Operations, 1916, Vol. 1, 242–3.

5 Learning: The Buffs on the Somme 1916 and the Battle of the Somme are often identified as the moment when the British army began to learn the lessons of modern, industrialised war, and the experiences of this vast and bloody four-month battle were to play an important role in the emergence of a more efficient force in the spring of 1917.¹ This rationale can be applied to the Buffs in an attempt to ascertain whether a perceptible ‘learning curve’ can be identified in 1916. As the four battalions of the Buffs fought in ten of the twelve stages of the battle, they provide a peculiarly good test of this thesis. The 7th Buffs took part in operations on the disastrous first day of the offensive, and subsequently in stages two, eleven, and twelve; the 6th Buffs also took part in the first stage of the offensive, but not the first day, and then in stages four and ten; the 8th Buffs attacked in stages three and five, while the 1st Buffs fought in stages seven and eight. (See Appendix 3b) The search for, identification, and analysis of, a learning curve rests upon the explanation of two interlocking elements. First, it is necessary to examine the factors that the individual Buffs battalions had no control over. Secondly, and by contrast, are the factors that the battalions could influence, but these factors, and the courses open to the Buffs, were often shaped and constrained by outside forces. The first element, the factors the Buffs could not control, can be broken down into five areas: (1) deployment in terms of the aims, objectives and location (2) the units that flanked their parent divisions and which corps their divisions were assigned to (3) the degree and nature of the artillery and aerial support (4) the quality, quantity, and supply of equipment (5) the actions/reactions of the enemy. Each area identified above had an important effect on what the Buffs were instructed to do in 1916, how the battalions went about it, and the final outcome of the actions taken. Running alongside were the factors the Buffs had at least some influence and control over: (1) the training, tactical deployment, and organisation of manpower and weapons (2) the supply and quality of the manpower (3) the morale of the men (4) the recycling of previous experiences for educative purposes (5) estimations of the enemy’s reaction in any given operation. As part of the ever-expanding British Expeditionary Force, the four Buffs battalions were tiny cogs in the apparatus of Anglo-French strategy. In February 1916, the newly appointed commander-in-chief, Sir Douglas Haig, along with his

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political masters, was committed to participation in a summer offensive in partnership with the French army.² In essence, the intention of this planned offensive was to wear down the German forces and then break through on the Somme front.³ A major pitfall of the plan was the choice of ground for the allied positions along the Somme front where they were confronted by a formidable array of German defences which made use of the central ridge running from the area around Thiepval to Morval. Although the German front line, or ‘First Position’, was on the forward slope of this ridge and thus vulnerable to allied artillery, it included a number of mini-fortresses dug into the ruins of villages. Destroying these positions, or neutralising the forces occupying them, was of great significance to the attacking infantry. Regardless of these problems, the units of the BEF would have to cope with this strategic decision. During the course of the battle the Buffs battalions worked within the set frameworks of their brigades and divisions. Divisions and brigades made detailed plans for battle; however, overall command lay with Corps and Armies. Corps commanders and their staffs were the lowest level that actually planned and fought longer battles. As Armies and Corps staffs planned and defined objectives in order to meet the directives of the commander-in-chief, they also allotted artillery to the attacking units. Infantry objectives had to be very carefully equated with the power of the available artillery. As will be seen, the Buffs often suffered due to the lack of adequate artillery cover. At this level command was changeable and varied as divisions were shifted from one Corps and Army area to another. This flexible arrangement may have been an advantage to the BEF, but as many commentators have pointed out, it also had distinct disadvantages. Divisional staffs found that they had continually to adapt to the differing styles and natures of Corps commanders and their staffs. Such a system occasionally led to friction and misunderstanding. By contrast, Canadian troops were gathered into their own Corps and fought much of the war as homogeneous mini-armies, which gave their divisions the advantage of working to a well-understood pattern, and this element has been identified as one of the reasons underpinning their battlefield successes.⁴ Decisions were therefore made well above the heads of not only the Buffs’ commanding officers, but also of their brigade and divisional commanders, keeping the Corps and Armies as somewhat anonymous phenomena. Of far more immediate significance than strategic direction to the Buffs battalions was the supply and quality of equipment, which was vital to their tactical success. In battle the Buffs relied on a combination of weapons: those beyond their immediate control—most notably the artillery—and those that they deployed and controlled themselves. By the spring of 1916 British industry was beginning its ascent to full war production and the equipment so scarce in 1915 was slowly filtering through to the infantry. As has already been noted, during 1915 the Buffs, like the rest of the British infantry, enthusiastically sought to increase its potential firepower. The Vickers machine gun was a greatly-prized weapon, but, much to the chagrin of the infantry, it had been withdrawn from their direct use

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and gathered into specialist units. By way of replacement the infantry was given the Lewis gun; weighing 27 lb, it was light enough to be carried by one man but needed a team to carry spare parts and ammunition pans. Nonetheless, it was a powerful addition to a battalion’s firepower, capable of firing 600–700 rounds a minute. Although the introduction of the Lewis gun is often attributed to the winter of 1915, the first mention of these new weapons in Buffs diaries comes in the spring of 1916.⁵ The 6th Buffs diary refers to Lewis gun training in February, and the 8th Buffs in April. Unfortunately, the diaries do not state how the Buffs intended to use these new weapons.⁶ It is highly probable that the battalions did not contain more than two guns per company at this stage, and may not have reached the establishment figure of sixteen before the offensive on the Somme began. (The 6th Buffs had eight by 7 July.)⁷ Increased industrial output also led to the supply of more bombs and grenades and infantry support weapons such as trench mortars.⁸ As weapons supply increased and added to the potential firepower and sophistication of the infantry, a training system was required which successfully integrated these weapons and the lessons taught by trench warfare in 1915. All four Buffs battalions had certainly discovered several important lessons about offensive action during 1915. Experience had revealed that the bombardment needed to be followed closely. Bombardments which lifted at pre-set times aided the Buffs only when they maintained direction and closed in rapidly on the enemy line. Once attackers had entered the German trenches heavy enemy fire often made it impossible for supporting waves to advance across no man’s land. This made the problem of reinforcement and re-supply acute. Successful initial waves cut off by an impassable no man’s land had little chance of holding on to their gains when threatened by German counter-attack. But, when ground was successfully taken and held, the forward-most defensive line attracted enemy fire and thus a thinly held forward position capable of rapid reinforcement was the best solution. The two key pre-Somme BEF training manuals, the Training of Divisions for Offensive Action (SS 109) and Fourth Army’s Tactical Notes (‘The Red Book’), both issued in May 1916, point out that the preferred assault formation was waves.⁹ Options were available within this structure: each battalion could choose whether to attack with a frontage of either two or four platoons giving a depth of four or eight waves spaced no more than 100 yards apart. The philosophy underpinning this position was designed to give the attacking wave weight of firepower combined with flexibility, for the gap between waves would allow commanders to assess the situation to their immediate front and prevent a jam occurring on a stalled front. Much emphasis was also placed on the need to move fresh successive waves through and on to the next objective, reflecting the knowledge that attacking troops quickly exhaust their physical and mental strength and cannot be expected to assault more than a strictly limited number of objectives. In order to assist in the successful execution of the assault, the Red Book hinted that a

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specialist platoon structure divided between ‘fighting’, ‘mopping’, and ‘carrying’ tasks was the best system. Critics of the BEF’s preparations for the Somme battle have suggested that the wave/linear formation was too crude and inflexible, particularly for dealing with an enemy defensive system made up of trenches covered by strong points.¹⁰ Those who take a more positive view, such as Griffith, have argued that a false distinction has been drawn for flexibility was inherent in the wave system which allowed the infantry to realign into different formations once the first wave had achieved the initial break-in by use of its concentrated but not overly dense firepower.¹¹ It is important to ascertain whether the Buffs actually conformed to these models and whether experience on the Somme resulted in further modifications and refinement. Of vital significance is the extent to which the training framework was disseminated and uniformity of practice understood and implemented. A major flaw in the BEF’s system was that although it was clearly capable of considered and thoughtful responses to the problems thrown up by the Western Front, it had no clear, central mechanism at this stage of the war for imposing such doctrine and monitoring whether it was imparted effectively.¹² In this laissez-faire atmosphere, the personalities of commanding officers, particularly divisional commanders as the managers of ‘mini-armies’, was very important. Ross (6 Division), Scott (12 Division), Maxse (18 Division), and Capper (24 Division) had the power to shape the responses of their divisions to these ideas and prepare them for battle. Knowledge of the task facing each man was extremely important. In the confusion of battle the individual soldier could play an effective role only if he had a clear understanding of his objectives. This demand created its own problem, for soldiers had to be prepared without compromising security. In the run-up to the Somme, it is clear that information was circulated to the Buffs even if it was only to a select few. Lieutenant-Colonel Pratt of 6th Buffs attended a divisional conference on training in February 1916 showing Major-General Scott’s desire to circulate ideas throughout his command.¹³ Brigadier-General Cator (37 IB 6th Buffs) provided lectures on forthcoming operations to all officers down to the second-in-command of companies in June 1916.¹⁴ A similar story can be traced in Maxse’s 18 Division: Ransome of the 7th Buffs attended a conference on forthcoming operations for commanding officers in April 1916.¹⁵ Having informed certain key personnel of the BEF’s aims and objectives and discussed training, each division needed to implement a training schedule that would provide the individual soldier with the knowledge and skills required to perform his role. This was a daunting task, for the vast majority of the troops were still very much at a rudimentary stage of development. In effect, the three service battalions of the Buffs were being asked to complete basic training while preparing for a major assault at the same time. Disciplined use of firepower and formation were the elements given most attention from the winter of 1915 until the eve

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of the battle. Showing his usual thoroughness, Maxse started 1916 by imposing the correct attitude to training on his division. He told his brigadiers and battalion commanders that: In training the object to be aimed at is to train the man in both mind and body; it must not be carried to excess; when men are bored it is time to change to something else; football and other forms of recreation are all part of training; ‘all work and no play makes Tom a dull boy’.¹⁶

He impressed on all officers the need to set a personal example on the training field by forbidding any battalion conference during a training period. Officers had to witness their companies at work, and not leave it to the supervision of NCOs.¹⁷ Stressing the importance of competent use of weapons, he urged his commanders to pay attention to fire discipline and control. Only constant repetition of set lessons would provide each man with confidence and calmness: ‘Men should be so drilled that in the heat of an action they aim correctly, point or parry correctly, merely because they have acquired a correct method from force of habit.’¹⁸ Commanding officers were also told to devise as many different attack scenarios as possible in order to challenge and stimulate the men.¹⁹ Prefiguring, and presumably informing, the injunctions of the Red Book and the Training of Divisions for Offensive Action was Maxse’s experiments on the best formation to be adopted in an assault. Opinion was divided as to whether the initial assaulting wave should stop and consolidate or push on to the final objective. By way of response, Maxse ordered 55 IB to complete an exercise in which two battalions attacked each using three companies. Each company was to deploy two platoons in the front wave, one in the second, and the final in reserve. The front wave was to push on to the final position with the second in close support dealing with remaining opposition. Officers were then ordered to consider the following problems as part of the exercise: ‘how to get out of the trenches, how to cross trenches, method of advance, how far attacking lines should be apart, supply of ammunition and grenades, consolidation of a captured position and construction of new communication trenches backwards, blocking enemy communication trenches, and use of machine guns’.²⁰ This reads like a checklist of all the problems Buffs units had faced on the Western Front thus far. Later exercises ordered brigades to test the four-platoon frontage attack formations as advocated in the Training of Divisions for Offensive Action. Significantly, and supportive of Griffith’s theory that the Red Book and Training of Divisions for Offensive Action lent themselves to prototype infiltration tactics, the succeeding companies advanced in columns, one making a rough diamond pattern prefiguring 1917 and 1918 tactics.²¹ At the same time, Maxse was busy maximising the impact of his bombing sections by imposing a new doctrine involving exercises which were not to be attempted until every platoon commander understood that his platoon must ‘act as a whole’.²² The four sections of a bombing platoon were divided into one bomb-throwing section, a second armed with rifle grenades, a third manned the

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Lewis gun and provided reinforcements for the other two sections, while the fourth cleared dugouts and carried spares and tools.²³ Innovation was not the preserve of 18 Division. Scott’s 12 Division and the 6th Buffs revealed equal levels of imagination and intelligence. The 6th Buffs carried out defence and attack schemes involving river crossings and practised the first stages of an attack and then an advance across country in artillery formation in January and February 1916. In May still more sophisticated schemes were rehearsed including an attack on hill top positions and a divisional assault. As in the 18 Division, much emphasis was placed on fire control and discipline, the accurate judging of distance, and use of ground to ensure good fire positions. Most interestingly, the 6th Buffs also practised a nascent infiltration formation: the ‘new form of attack in “driblets” . . . and the sending forward of strong patrols’.²⁴ Although its war diary is much less detailed, the 8th Buffs appear to have completed many similar training schemes.²⁵ Seemingly lagging behind was the 1st Buffs; its war diary reveals very little information about training or even any opportunity to train, preoccupied as it was by continual tours of the trenches in the Ypres salient. This apparent lack of training may well reflect the fact that as a (nominally) Regular unit it was thought to retain sufficient professionalism to absorb lessons without too much rehearsal. It could therefore be employed in trench-holding, allowing New Army units greater opportunity to complete training programmes.²⁶ By June 1916 the evidence suggests that the Buffs service battalions and their parent units had made massive leaps forward. Basic training was combined with innovative attack formations and suggests that Haig and Rawlinson’s somewhat ambiguous assessment of the New Army’s capabilities was overly pessimistic. Cause for concern can be found, however, in the question of artillery co-operation: comment on the matter is almost entirely absent from the various infantry war diaries. It is unclear how the artillery was represented in most of the schemes and rehearsals, and what type of bombardments the Buffs were expecting to accompany their assaults. This may well reflect the uncertainties over precise details that prevailed at Fourth Army Headquarters and GHQ in the run-up to the battle, and Rawlinson’s rather laissez-faire approach to artillery arrangements.²⁷ Training regimes faced a further problem: the amount of time men spent on working parties. In order to prosecute a major offensive the BEF had to spend a good deal of time creating the supporting infrastructure, particularly roads and railways. All Buffs war diaries reveal that large numbers of men were frequently employed on these tasks. For example, between 1 and 15 March 1916 the 7th Buffs had to find 600 men per day for railway construction work. The brigade diary for March contains a memorandum on training schedules, but admits that the large number of men needed for working parties will probably disrupt it.²⁸ When assessing the first stage of operations on the Somme at the end of July, Maxse wrote ruefully on the detrimental effect this constant round of fatigues had on his training programmes.²⁹

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Obviously training was supposed to enhance unit cohesion and understanding. The process served to iron out differences between longstanding members of the battalions and fresh drafts. During the spring of 1916 all Buffs units were brought up to strength, and rapid integration of the new men was vital to each battalion’s efficiency. In January 1916 the 6th Buffs received a draft of ninety-five men. Nearly half came from the Buffs’ 3rd battalion in Dover and the remainder were a mixture of 1st, 2nd, and returned 6th Buffs men. Regimental connections were therefore maintained, which must have made the settling-in process a good deal easier.³⁰ A month later a further draft arrived, and the battalion war diary reveals that a keen sense of judgement was being exercised for it was remarked that ‘the quality . . . [is] on the whole distinctly good.’³¹ The strength of each battalion had an important influence on morale as understrength units placed an extra strain on every fit man. Morale was also affected by the conditions of the trenches and sector of front. Although largely hidden from the war diaries, Moody’s regimental history written soon after the end of the war and supplemented by much private material, hints that the winter of 1915–16 had had a detrimental effect on morale.³² By the same token a change of routine, scene and cleaner, drier trenches had an extremely beneficial effect, as is also reflected in Moody.³³ Of all the Buffs battalions preparing for action, the 7th probably had most reason to be confident. Unlike the other battalions, the 7th was scheduled to assault in the sector its division had occupied for nearly a year. The 18 Division therefore had a very good idea of the ground and the general routines of the enemy along this section of front. Allotted to go into action on the first day of the fighting, the 18 Division had also been preparing for action on a specific set of defences, unlike the other Buffs battalions which had trained for the assault on generalised models of typical German trenches and strong points. Clear knowledge of the task facing Maxse allowed him to liaise with his Corps commander and influence the planning in great detail, an opportunity that was denied to Scott, Capper, and Ross when their divisions were drawn into the fighting. Maxse’s highly efficient Brigade Major Royal Artillery, Alan Brooke, exercised an equally important influence on the outcome of the battle, for he identified targets with great care and advocated a creeping barrage rather than one divided into lifts at prearranged times. A curtain of shells would therefore fall in front of the advancing troops providing much more protection than a bombardment that leaped forward in set bounds. He also devised a careful plan for barbed wire destruction, which was made the task of the division’s trench mortar batteries. In addition, the 18 Division undoubtedly benefited from its position. Being so close to the junction with the more experienced French armies, it could expect some overlap of fire from the neighbouring French artillery units.³⁴ The 7th Buffs’ role was that of brigade reserve, and the battalion was allotted a mixture of jobs. Less ‘glamorous’ than sharing the lead in the division’s first major assault of the war, it was nonetheless a demanding task, which presented Lieutenant-Colonel Ransome with specific command problems. As a reserve unit,

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the 7th Buffs was ordered to support the leading battalions as and where necessary meaning that Ransome could not draw up orders in advance and would find it hard to exercise control and influence once he had responded to requests for assistance. His battalion was going to be committed piecemeal and across the brigade front. Only B company was allotted a direct assault task involving the suppression of German resistance in a series of craters in no man’s land.³⁵ Captain Kenchington prepared most thoroughly and revealed his firm grip on the situation. He supervised the posting of notice boards for the carrier platoons and carefully dumped equipment at his jumping-off sap to ensure rapid re-supply. His plan involved two platoons. Three sections were to advance round the flanks and two sniper sections were to get to the far side of the craters to protect the front.³⁶ At zero hour (7.30 a.m.) on 1 July two platoons of B company went over the top and advanced on the craters. The troops were met with heavy fire and a

All

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Pommiers line

Breslau Trench







Mines

7th Buffs

German front line British line

Carnoy

Map 5. Montauban, 1 July 1916, 7th Buffs.

Maricourt

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bombardment of the British front line opened up. At 9 a.m.—much later than expected—Kenchington reported that the craters were clear apart from one machine gun which was putting up tough resistance. His platoons had suffered nearly half their casualties crossing to the craters but once in position they began their task of bombing the Germans out of the craters and then pushing on to Breslau Trench. Showing the flexibility of approach at least certain battalions of the BEF possessed, Kenchington ordered his snipers to work round the far side of the enemy position and cut them off. By much the same time the entire battalion was committed supporting the leading troops of the 7th Queen’s and 8th E. Surrey. German resistance was undoubtedly tougher than had been expected, and although progress was being made across the divisional front, it was well behind schedule. Ransome managed to monitor events from battalion HQ once he had committed his troops thanks to fairly efficient communications. He sent two officers forward at 12.30 p.m. to make contact with the commanding officers of the 7th Queen’s and 8th E. Surrey and establish the precise situation. They managed to find the commander of the 7th Queen’s on the western outskirts of Montauban. Reacting rapidly to this news, Ransome moved his battalion HQ almost into the new front line and directed two platoons of D company under Captain Neame to fill the gap between the 7th Queen’s and the 53 IB on the extreme left. Neame was killed during this manoeuvre depriving the battalion of an influential member. By evening the brigade was on its objectives and had made contact to left and right. Revealing the thorough planning of the brigade and battalion, the 7th Buffs’ war diary remarks that full rations arrived for the men in their new positions expertly arranged by Second Lieutenant Keown, the Transport Officer, who performed ‘excellent work in getting them up . . . There was no difficulty with the water supply [very important on such a hot day]—carrying parties were working well.’³⁷ Success for the 18 Division, on this generally disastrous day for the BEF, had not come cheaply. The division as a whole suffered 3,711 casualties, the majority being wound cases.³⁸ The 7th Buffs lost fifty-one OR and four officers killed.³⁹ Three of the officers had been with the battalion since its formation in the late autumn of 1914, and one for six months. Such men must have played a significant role in the training of the battalion. The battalion therefore suffered a serious blow in terms of knowledge and interior cohesion. The majority of the OR losses were incurred in B company, 12 platoon in particular, which suffered heavily as it attacked the craters. Much of the Buffs’ work on the day involved methodical bombing operations as platoons cleared enemy trenches, especially the main communication trenches such as Breslau Alley and Mine Alley. Ensuring the suppression of the enemy in the communication trenches was an important task for it protected the 7th Queen’s and 8th E. Surrey as they attacked the main defensive works of the Breslau Trench, Pommiers Line, and Pommiers Redoubt.⁴⁰ Training and careful preparation had paid off for the 18 Division. Hidden under the creeping barrage, Maxse’s leading assault waves had taken position in no man’s land early and then advanced quickly. Capitalising on the benefits of good

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preliminary artillery work and the comparative weakness of German defences in this area, his men had pulled off a very solid achievement. Lessons of 1915 had been learnt—rapid movement across no man’s land and rapid re-supply. However, a serious problem remained. The artillery had not yet mastered counter-battery work, providing the enemy with the ability to cover no man’s land with fire once an assault commenced. Next into action was the 6th Buffs on 3 July at Ovillers, which had not fallen to the 8 Division on 1 July, and had resulted in fearful casualties.⁴¹ Attacking Ovillers was not an easy task; no man’s land was extremely wide at this point and the layout of the German line allowed flanking fire to be directed on any unit making a frontal assault. If success was to be achieved, the whole position needed to be overwhelmed on a broad front covering the most exposed central spearhead. An examination of this attack provides a sharp contrast with that of the 18 Division and reveals many of the wider problems experienced by the BEF as it attempted to maintain the offensive on the Somme.

German line

6th Buffs

Ma

British line

sh

Va

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y

Ovillers la Boisselle

la Boisselle

Map 6. Ovillers, 3 July 1916, 6th Buffs.

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The 6th Buffs came into an unfamiliar section of line at 2.45 a.m. on 2 July with very little hard knowledge of the situation. Almost as soon as the battalion occupied its trenches it was ordered to evacuate certain sections in order to allow a bombardment of Ovillers. Given this confusion, it is highly unlikely that the Buffs, or any other unit of the 12 Division, managed to gain a real grip on the geography and layout of both the British and German positions during daylight hours on 2. Yet at 1.15 a.m. on 3 July, the 35 and 37 IBs were ordered to attack Ovillers at 3.15 a.m. The three assault units of the 37 IB, the 6th Queen’s and 6th RWK each supported by two companies of the Buffs, were therefore given a mere two hours to prepare. Like the troops of the 18 Division, the leading waves assembled in no man’s land while the bombardment was falling on the German positions which was joined by an indirect machine gun bombardment. At zero the attackers moved off and were followed swiftly by the initial waves of the Buffs’ A and C companies. Few casualties were suffered by these leading troops as they moved across no man’s land and manoeuvred through gaps in the wire into the enemy trenches. Second Lieutenant Farmar then set about bombing up the trenches and creating blocks. By contrast, all succeeding waves suffered heavily from a hail of German artillery and machine gun fire that fell on no man’s land and the assembly and communication trenches. Enfilading machine gun fire proved particularly devastating to the Buffs and artillery assistance was requested, but it appeared to have little affect on the enemy. Lieutenant-Colonel Cope reacted sensibly and refrained from ordering B and D companies forward. Farmar and most of his men managed to return later in the day—which must have been a very tricky task given the weight of the German bombardment—having exhausted their supplies.⁴² Casualties were high in the assaulting waves. The Buffs lost 11 officers killed, wounded, and missing including three company commanders, and 263 OR. Devastating loss had been suffered for minimal gain. Ovillers was attacked again by the 12 Division on 7 July with equally high losses; when the 37 IB was withdrawn all working parties had to be immediately recalled and the machine gun units temporarily wound-up in order to create a composite brigade of 600 men.⁴³ Failure can be attributed to many factors, some of which were avoidable. First, planning was poor. Unable to reconnoitre the ground themselves, 12 Division was largely reliant on III Corps planners to direct and instruct. Rather than reassess the failed assault of 1 July, the Corps staff plunged the division into a similar attack with a few modifications—it was made by night and the attackers left their trenches early. The bombardment was unsatisfactory as British artillery failed utterly to smash German dugouts, strong points, and batteries. The absolutely vital element of co-ordination with flanking units to suppress the German advantage in this sector was left unsolved, as X Corps on the left failed to attack.⁴⁴ The 12 Division’s history neatly summed up the situation: The capture of the position had failed, and the failure was undoubtedly affected by the flanking machine gun fire, which was unmolested, and raked the excessive distance between the opposing front lines over which supports had to cross. Also by the attack being

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carried out in the dark by troops who were hurried into the fight without being well acquainted with the terrain, leading to loss of cohesion; by the artillery bombardment destroying the wire and trenches, yet failing to reach the deep dug-outs, which remained unharmed; and by the recent storms making shell holes and trenches in places almost impassable.⁴⁵

Even the usually staid British official history contains a damning assessment of this poorly conceived attack referring to it as ‘a useless waste of life’.⁴⁶ Exactly one month later, on 3 August, the 6th Buffs continued the Buffs presence on the Somme with an attack on Fourth Avenue, just west of Pozières. It was part of a series of operations designed to prevent the Germans from switching reserves to the area south of the Albert–Bapaume road, which had become the main axis of British attacks. Haig warned his commander, Lieutenant-General Hubert Gough, to carry out these actions with due regard for casualties, and not to overstretch his own troops. The intention was to pin down the enemy with an economic effort.⁴⁷ By this stage of the battle Haig was beginning to be aware of the lack of co-ordination across his front, the difficulties created by staggered start times, and attacks on too narrow a front which invited enfilade fire.⁴⁸ For the Buffs and 12 Division, the situation was entirely different to their debut on the Somme. On this occasion the division was given the chance to display the lessons it had learned during 1915 and training in 1916. Given early warning of the attack, the leading units were able to reconnoitre the positions. Cope went forward to study the strong points and paid close attention to the artillery fire. Unwilling to mince his words, he promptly told brigade headquarters that he was not happy with the bombardment and would refuse to attack unless the strong point was dealt with. His argument was probably based on the reports of two Buffs patrols that had crawled out into no man’s land to observe the condition of the enemy trenches and machine gun positions. Knowledge of the enemy was clearly very important to Cope, for the next day (2 August) he ordered his company commanders to the top of Mash Valley where a vantage point could be found. They reported back that the 9.2-inch howitzers were still not hitting the target ‘owing to faulty observation’. Although the artillery was obviously not as effective as Cope demanded, it was certainly showing some signs of improvement and sophistication. The three-day bombardment was specially designed to open and close in irregular fits and starts to maintain some semblance of secrecy and keep the enemy guessing.⁴⁹ 12 Division’s orders also show that Scott was determined to capitalise on any advantages presented by the artillery. He stressed that ‘it is essential that all ranks must realise that the success of the attack depends on pushing well forward under the Artillery Barrage and surprising the enemy.’⁵⁰ Rapidly reinforced, the Buffs were to attack with ranks stiffened by many new men. From the moment the battalion left the line in July it had commenced a fresh training programme, placing particular emphasis on Lewis gun and bombing instruction. An experiment designed to reveal the impact of differing pack weights on speed and agility was also conducted. Men were loaded with various

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pack sizes and ordered to advance across set distances. Little difference was experienced except that it was very hard for fully loaded men to charge over the full distance. Such experimentation shows that refinement and improvement distilled from experience was possible in the BEF. The Buffs occupied their newly constructed assault positions during the evening of 3 July. At 9 p.m. the Germans began shelling these trenches heavily. Cope must have made some interesting contacts, for he personally requested help from a French 75mm battery which responded by bombarding the Germans with gas shells and soon silenced them.⁵¹ The attacking waves crept out into no man’s land at 11 p.m. A party of bombers led the way with the intention of getting as close to the enemy machine gun position as possible before the five-minute intense bombardment commenced. The rest of B company then filed out and waited for the bombardment. As soon as the bombardment ceased, they charged forward and entered the enemy trench. By 11.30 p.m. the Buffs reported the strong point captured and patrols were pushed out towards Fifth Avenue while A and C companies came up to occupy the allotted section of Ration Trench. A joint Buffs–7th R. Sussex patrol pushed on as far as Mouquet Farm before enemy fire forced a retreat covered by a Buffs Lewis gun team.⁵² The Buffs suffered forty OR killed, thirty less than a month earlier when only two companies were committed fully.⁵³ Given time to plan and prepare, the 12 Division and the Buffs had proved that set piece bite and hold operations were feasible. Lessons learned in raiding can also be detected here, as the emphasis on intelligent and accurate use of bombing parties to clear positions was a skill much required and honed during raids.

Thiepval

Mouquet Farm

Joint 6th Buffs/ 7th R. Sussex Patrol German Line

R Tr atio en n ch

6th Buffs

Pozières

Map 7. Ration Trench, 3 August 1916, 6th Buffs.

British Line

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However, it is noticeable that artillery cover still was not fully adequate and only the intervention of a French battery saved the Buffs from facing heavy punishment in the immediate run-up to the attack. In the middle of the month the 6th Buffs and the 12 Division left the Somme for the quiet sector of Arras to rest, recuperate, and absorb new recruits, having suffered 7,630 casualties since 1 July.⁵⁴ August also drew the 8th Buffs into the fighting. In late July the battalion was withdrawn from the Ypres sector and spent some time around Meteren in training. A Royal Engineers major gave a lecture on trench consolidation, and companies practised attacking enemy positions and open warfare. The battalion was then sent south to the Somme sector where it continued training paying particular attention to exercises with contact aircraft.⁵⁵ On 10 August, the battalion went into the trenches near Waterlot Farm in the line between Guillemont and Delville Wood. After a few days out of the line, they came back on 17 and were presented with orders to attack at 5 a.m. on 18. Lieutenant-Colonel Trueman called a conference of officers at 9 a.m. to discuss the task, which was the capture of an enemy strong point known as Machine Gun House just in front of the southern end of ZZ Trench. Although the battalion had discovered its actual objective at a fairly late stage, it cannot have been too much of a surprise. The 24 Division had been making methodical preparation for an attack for some days including the construction of new assault trenches.⁵⁶ The Buffs’ objective was part of XIV Corps’ wider plan to establish a line from Angle Wood in the south to the southern spur of Guillemont, through the western side of the village to the railway station and then on along the German line running north. A day later the rest of Guillemont was scheduled to fall.⁵⁷ Recognising the need for a methodical advance, both days of XIV Corps’ two-day plan were divided into two distinct sections. After the initial advance on each day there was to be a two-hour pause to allow for consolidation and reorganisation. 17 IB orders to the 8th Buffs emphasise the need to keep to the timetable and the innovation of the pause.⁵⁸ On 18 August, at the culmination of a thirty-six hour bombardment, the infantry was scheduled to advance under the cover of a creeping barrage.⁵⁹ As with all Buffs attacks discussed so far, the attacking waves assembled in no man’s land and, led by Captain C. D. Gullick, kept close touch with the creeping barrage. A machine gun post was quickly captured and turned on the enemy. Lieutenant Grant and his party entered the Machine Gun House position and found it deserted, but the trench leading up to it was held strongly. After waiting for the troops in ZZ Trench to bomb their way forward Grant managed to take full possession of the Machine Gun House position. Reinforcement was now important, and Captain Hodgson came up with his support company, which had suffered losses crossing no man’s land. Once again the inability to destroy German batteries was interfering with a Buffs operation. Generally, however, the attack was a success. German resistance was comprehensively subdued and contact was made with the 3rd Rifle Bde to the left. The two battalions took over 100 prisoners; such

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Learning: The Buffs on the Somme Delville Wood

Ginchy

ZZ Trench 8th Buffs 8th Buffs

German Line

Buffs Bombers

British Line Machine Gun House

Guillemont

Map 8. ZZ Trench, Guillemont, 18 August 1916, 8th Buffs.

was the level of surprise that the Buffs captured one man completely naked. But success was still quite expensive in terms of casualties. One officer was killed and 6 wounded leaving C company without officers. Casualties among the OR numbered 38 killed, 16 missing, and 297 wounded. The British artillery had provided valuable assistance in its methodical preliminary bombardment and creeping barrage, but was still unable to neutralise the enemy completely.⁶⁰ A month later the 8th Buffs was committed to the assault again. This time it was in the line between High Wood and Delville Wood with the task of capturing a strong point and clearing the Germans from Worcester and Tea trenches.⁶¹ Orders were received at 2 p.m. on 2 September instructing the Buffs that zero hour was noon the next day. It was not a particularly welcome order for on the previous evening the battalion had detailed 200 men for carrying duties, meaning the unit was hardly fresh. Further problems arose on the morning of 3 when it proved impossible to synchronize watches properly with the 1st Queen’s Own Cameron Highlanders attacking further north, creating the possibility of exposed flanks at zero hour. B company was detailed to lead the assault while C company bombers worked their way up Worcester Trench. The plan was nullified almost immediately for within one minute of zero the entire advance was halted by

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High Wood German Line

Switc

h Lin

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Wood Lane

8th Buffs

e

an

aL

Tea Trench

Tea Support

Te

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Buffs Bombers

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Strong Point

re rT nc h

British Line

Orcha rd Trenc h

Delville Wood

Map 9. Tea Trench, Delville Wood, 3 September 1916, 8th Buffs.

machine gun fire making casualties of all B company’s officers plus its CSM. A fresh attack was scheduled for 4 p.m. under a similar barrage. The liaison officer of 14 Division artillery, which was covering this sector, was found and instructed to put down a bombardment on various strong points the Buffs had identified. Little came from the exchange as the war diary notes that the bombardment failed to deal with the trouble spots and the renewed attack was brought to an equally swift halt. At the same time, D company, which had been detached for an assault in Delville Wood, also experienced dreadful failure. Four officers were killed and six wounded, while nineteen OR were killed. In many ways the very swift response of the enemy saved the Buffs from higher casualties, as the men went to ground immediately and slipped back to their start positions.⁶² Goaded by Haig, Rawlinson had played a larger role in planning and co-ordinating this attack, which was intended to capture the line High Wood, Delville Wood, Ginchy, Guillemont, and Falfemont Farm. This was at least an attack on a wide front, making it much harder for the Germans to pour in enfilade fire, but one crucial problem remained: there was no greater collection of guns or shells. In thinning the barrage, Rawlinson undermined any chance of a general advance. Guillemont, the position the British had been trying to capture since late July, did indeed fall, but it was the sole success of the day.⁶³ By early September a distinct set of interlocking phases of the Somme battle had come to a close; the Buffs attacks can be placed into this wider context. The

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success of the 7th Buffs and the 18 Division at the southern tip of the British line on 1 July was shared with the 30 Division, and was the bright spot in an otherwise very dull day for the BEF. Little was done to exploit this success on 1 July itself. Bernafay, Trônes, and Mametz woods were all empty and the Germans had few reserves in this area. Yet the British reserve in this area, XIII Corps’ 9 Division, was not concentrated and ready for such a movement. Rawlinson had stated that it was only to be used during the second phase of operations after the first objectives had been consolidated and artillery moved into fresh positions. It provides a perfect illustration of the lack of co-ordination between Haig’s preconceptions of the battle as one involving dramatic shifts forward and rapid reaction to success and Rawlinson’s more modest intentions.⁶⁴ Having achieved this limited success on 1 July, Haig was determined to exploit it and wanted to shift the focus of operations to the sector south of the Albert–Bapaume road. It diverged utterly from Rawlinson’s idea, which was to renew the assault in the centre and north. At the same time, Joffre, the French commander-in-chief, was also demanding the continuation of the battle on a wide front. Haig resisted this pressure and maintained his preferred approach.⁶⁵ From 2 to 14 July the Buffs and their divisions were taking part in an effort to achieve a new start line for a full attack on the German second position. Although a policy had now seemingly been reached, the method of implementation was still confused. Haig and Rawlinson failed to impose sufficient order and method on operations. Between 3 and 13 July III, XV, and XIII Corps attacked in a series of ill-co-ordinated, ill-supported operations. Fourth Army mounted forty-six attacks using ten divisions and suffered heavy casualties. Prior and Wilson are critical of Rawlinson’s command style during this phase of the battle pointing out his sense of detachment and lack of decisive intervention to ensure maximum co-ordination and effect. They highlight the fact that on many occasions artillery was not used fully to support attacks and Corps attacked continually on excessively narrow fronts thus allowing the Germans the chance to enfilade and mass troops at the crucial points. The same charge can be levelled against General Gough in his conduct of the attack on Ovillers on 3 July, which caused heavy losses in 6th Buffs and 12 Division.⁶⁶ Little change can be detected in the conduct of the next phase of operations running from 15 July to 14 September, as Rawlinson attempted to capture the German second position. Fourth Army carried out ninety attacks during the sixty-two days between 15 July and 14 September. During that time it advanced about 1,000 yards over a five-mile front and suffered 82,000 casualties. The attacks were once again on narrow fronts, often involving divisions attacking on little more than a one-battalion basis and assaulting the same place repeatedly. Haig became increasingly impatient with Rawlinson’s lack of success and requested methodical preparations to achieve the main result, the advance of the British right. But there was an inherent contradiction in Haig’s other instruction, which was to urge on operations without delay. Haig still wasn’t giving clear, achievable directives. Although this may have struck a strange note, there could be

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little doubt that Haig was directing Rawlinson to pay more attention to his right, and yet Rawlinson’s operational orders do not appear to have taken much note of this instruction for he still directed much energy to his centre and left. When Rawlinson did attack in the vital sector, such as the continual hammering at Guillemont, he did not perform a particularly creditable job. On 8 August, five battalions attacked with wide gaps between them allowing the Germans to enfilade all assaults. On 19 August, Haig sent Rawlinson another memorandum making it clear he was not happy with the situation and he singled out the narrow fronts as a particular problem. He instructed Rawlinson to take a tighter grip on matters and examine the problems in detail even if this meant interfering in subordinates’ plans. This all made good sense, but he then rather ruined it by once again urging all possible speed. Regardless of this welter of advice, operations in late August and early September maintained a depressingly familiar shape and pattern. Prior and Wilson have stated that it is difficult to find a rationale for Rawlinson’s behaviour during this period. He had the power to make a significant difference, and indeed was firmly instructed to do so by Haig; he also had a flow of more or less reasonable intelligence giving him the knowledge to do so, but he acted with strange reticence. He was more like ‘an observer, not . . . a commander who saw it as his responsibility to direct and even inspire the course of events’.⁶⁷ As has been seen, the attacks of the 6th and 8th Buffs during July, August, and early September often suffered from this lack of firm grip. On the plus side, when given adequate support, the three Buffs battalions deployed during these stages of the battle had shown that New Army units were capable of applying their training and weapons effectively. From mid-August Haig commenced planning for the next phase of operations in the belief that they would be decisive. Having watched the British advance force the Germans from their best-prepared positions, and aware that they were hurriedly improvising fresh and less impressive defences, Haig was confident of success. He planned to crash through the remaining German lines using the new weapon of the tanks, and then unleash the cavalry in order to roll-up the enemy from Morval in the south to Le Sars in the north. Given a start date of mid-September, Rawlinson commenced work on the preparations, but when he put his ideas before Haig a familiar scenario was played out. As in the initial planning stages for the battle in the spring, Haig condemned Rawlinson’s schemes as too modest, and demanded more ambitious targets. In a further depressing repetition Rawlinson duly ‘scaled-up’ his operations without making any sort of rigorous revision as to the number and type of pieces needed or weight of shell required to turn this ambitious vision into reality.⁶⁸ In addition, in order to allow the tanks to get forward, Rawlinson created lanes in which no British shells would fall. Unfortunately he had also allocated the tanks to attack the strongest parts of the German line. The British troops in these sectors were therefore utterly dependent on the tanks advancing efficiently and well in front of them in order to

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crush the strong points. Given the dubious reliability of the early tanks (a fact Rawlinson had recognised), this was an unlikely scenario.⁶⁹ By September 1916 the General Staff was recommending new methods for the assault. The use of the creeping barrage was now advocated as the best way to protect infantry and destroy German machine gunners who had quit their trenches to establish positions in shell holes.⁷⁰ But as the August fighting around Guillemont had shown, unless a creeping barrage really searched the ground, the shell holes and craters could give adequate protection to determined soldiers, which went some way towards compensating for the generally weaker state of the new German defences.⁷¹ The creeping barrage had evolved during the battle from its initial rate of 150 yards per minute and one or two rounds of shrapnel from each 18 pounder, which had proved too fast, to a rate of 50 yards per minute and three rounds of shrapnel per minute. (This would slow down still further later in the war with rates of 33 and 25 yards per minute adopted intermixing four rounds of shrapnel.)⁷² Fresh divisions were brought south for this stage of the battle, including the 6 Division containing the 1st Buffs. Assigned to Cavan’s XIV Corps, the 6 Division was allotted a difficult task for 15 September. In conjunction with tanks it was to capture the formidable German redoubt known as the Quadrilateral and then advance to the village of Morval. Cavan’s initial intention had been to capture the Quadrilateral before 15 as it created a salient in his front. Repeated attempts had failed, however, forcing him to include it among his new objectives. Very careful artillery preparation was required for this operation, especially as the creeping barrage had to contain gaps for the tanks. Given the ‘tank gaps’ in the creeping barrage from zero hour it was absolutely vital that the preliminary bombardment inflicted significant damage on the German positions. Two factors immediately undermined this potential, one unforeseeable, but the other reveals a major fault in the BEF’s administrative capacities. The first, uncontrollable, factor was the weather which became cloudy and damp, interfering with aerial observation of the enemy lines. The second was the fact that no one postponed an artillery relief planned for 12 September which clashed with the date the preliminary bombardment was due to commence. Major-General Ross’s infantry was therefore reliant on fresh artillery deploying, registering, and coming into action within a very short space of time. Serious questions on the high command’s ability to co-ordinate effectively are once again posed by these arrangements.⁷³ The 1st Buffs moved south with a strength of 44 officers and 1,043 OR and, as both the regimental history and battalion war diary stress, much ‘hard training ensued . . . the constant arrival of fresh drafts from England necessitated much teaching by men who were very up to date indeed.’⁷⁴ Unfortunately these sources provide little insight as to the exact nature of the training. The divisional war diary records a lecture on bayonet-fighting from the famous doyen of that particular art, Major Ronald Campbell, Inspector of Physical and Bayonet Training, and that the 16 and 18 IBs carried out exercises with contact aeroplanes.⁷⁵ This represented

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the first time the division had made preparations to communicate information in a form other than runner, flags, and cable. Perhaps reflecting growing concerns over the standards of marksmanship in the BEF, the brigade carried out intensive practice on the ranges, and time was also allotted to the brigade Machine Gun Corps company.⁷⁶ Significantly, no mention is made in the battalion war diary of tanks or any kind of orientation exercises or drills designed to enable the infantry to co-operate with these new weapons, and none of the instructions or orders issued to the attacking troops made any mention of them. However, it is recorded that Brigadier-General Osborn and his Brigade Major attended a tank demonstration at Naours on 1 September.⁷⁷ On the night of 14 September the 1st Buffs moved up to their initial positions for the assault. The general direction of the attack was north-east for the entire brigade, and the battalion commander, Lieutenant-Colonel H. W. Green, stressed in his orders that it was ‘essential’ that all troops knew this from the start.⁷⁸ Loss of direction was a significant problem in infantry assaults. Once men left their own trenches the featureless landscape could often be very difficult to interpret, especially for inexperienced soldiers. When exacerbated by poor weather and heavy kit the difficulties of maintaining momentum and direction increased considerably. The role of the Buffs was to pass through the leading units of the brigade, the 8th Beds, and then press on to the outskirts of Morval. Green elected to use a variant on the formations recommended by the Training of Divisions for the Offensive, deploying a four-platoon frontage in three waves, with the final wave containing the machine guns. The machine guns were to come forward as a defensive weapon; given the weight of the Vickers there was little that could be done to make it a mobile offensive weapon.⁷⁹ Captain Miles, author of Volume 2 of the Official History for 1916, commented on the tardiness with which British infantry integrated Lewis guns and heavy machine guns into their offensive operations. For Miles, British troops too often saw the Lewis guns as immobile weapons requiring permanent posts rather than as mobile automatic rifles.⁸⁰ As will be seen, experience taught the 1st Buffs a lesson in this respect, and the battalion altered its approach with great swiftness. At zero hour, 6.20 a.m., the creeping barrage commenced and the 8th Beds began its advance. Unfortunately, all of the tanks allotted to this sector of front failed to advance much beyond the start line leaving the leading units to assault under a broken barrage. The 8th Beds attack wilted, but disaster was compounded by the 1st Buffs’ attempts to maintain the assault in hopeless circumstances. Pinned down by fire from the Quadrilateral and its associated strong points, a mixture of 8th Beds and Buffs men connected shell holes and scraped a new line together. The attack had failed utterly, as did another assault in the evening. Losses in the Buffs were high: 6 officers were killed and 6 wounded, among the OR 110 had been killed, 246 were wounded and 33 were missing. As the Buffs were withdrawn, behind the scenes an argument developed between Ross and Cavan over the artillery preparation, as Ross expressed his dismay at the artillery’s poor performance.⁸¹

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Quadrilateral

Guillemont

British line

x

W

oo

d

German line

au

ee by stab ev lis en he ing d 8th Beds and 1st Buffs

le

Lin

Bo u

Ginchy

Leuze Wood

Map 10. Quadrilateral, Ginchy, 15 September 1916, 1st Buffs.

The operations of 15 September resulted in the capture of six square miles of enemy territory, and more importantly, the whole Bazentin Ridge and good observation over the third German line had been gained. However, the cost was not modest for nearly 30,000 casualties had been suffered; the strange decision to insist on tank lanes was probably the major contributing factor. Prior and Wilson conclude that neither Haig nor Rawlinson emerge from the 15 September with much credit. Both had still failed to appreciate what bitter experience had revealed. Namely that success in the Great War was bought with artillery, and that skilfully conducted ‘bite and hold operations’ were always likely to be more effective than more grandiose schemes.⁸² Rawlinson was eager to push on with the offensive after the generally encouraging results of 15 September, but the reality of the situation put the brakes on his ambitions. Troops needed reorganising, guns had to be registered on new targets, fresh aerial observation was needed, and the French insisted on a short pause to prepare.⁸³ The next general assault was therefore planned for 21, but poor weather forced a postponement until the 25. The plans differed from those for 15 September in a number of ways. First, unlike the earlier assault, these attacks were designed to capture one German position only (the third line). Second, the tanks

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were to be held back and concentrated on the villages of Morval and Lesboeufs, which gave the infantry the crucial advantage of a close-supporting barrage with no gaps for tanks. This difference cannot be attributed to brilliant analysis by Rawlinson; rather it was forced by the French. Insistent that they would not advance before 12.35 p.m., the French plan meant Rawlinson had no way of concealing his tanks prior to zero.⁸⁴ In addition, on XIV Corps front, Ross and his brigadiers were (unsurprisingly) extremely reluctant to see tanks play any sort of leading role. The tanks were therefore relegated to a support role after the main attack had commenced. 6 Division believed it could advance without them, as ‘It was clear from photographs that no very formidable works lay between us and Lesboeufs but owing to the difficulty of observation onto the approaches of the village we felt some anxiety about the wire.’⁸⁵ The bombardment opened on 24 September and was formidable in its weight and intensity. In two days approximately 400,000 shells weighing about 7.5 million lb. were fired onto no more than 18,000 yds. of trench, which was a concentration of 400 lb of shell for every yard of trench attacked.⁸⁶ This represented a 40 per cent heavier bombardment than 15 September which fell on a less-prepared German position defended with shallower belts of wire. The 12.35 p.m. zero hour also gave Forward Observation Officers the daylight hours of the morning to observe the effects of the final bombardment.⁸⁷ Cavan and Ross clearly improved their relationship after the earlier problems and planning for this fresh assault was much more detailed, especially the attention given to the artillery. A much clearer lead was given in the Corps artillery plan which stressed that the infantry should not expect the suppression of all fire, particularly from German positions in sunken roads. Such a realistic statement can be regarded as another step towards an understanding of neutralising rather than destructive fire. Initially designed to destroy everything in its path, artillery tactics came to rely on neutralising the objective. It did not matter whether defenders remained alive or whether strong points remained intact as long as they were incapacitated during the vital sections of the infantry’s advance and occupation.⁸⁸ Secondly, the plan made it clear that the infantry needed to consider the best use of its own firepower to subdue remaining strong points. The 1st Buffs was scheduled to attack again, and on 21 September the battalion went back into the trenches with a strength of 11 officers and 424 OR leaving 5 officers and 56 rifles out of the line; in all the battalion had nearly 600 fewer men than when it entered XIV Corps area.⁸⁹ The battalion’s initial task in the battle was to assist the right (5) division during its assault, and the Buffs began preparations for this role by aggressive and intelligent patrolling, and the construction of new assembly and assault trenches. Green’s orders for the assault stated that at zero plus 5 (12.40 p.m.) a detachment of the Buffs was to advance and establish itself on a line adjoining its own front line trenches to the left flank of the 15 IB (5 Division). The assault formation of three waves was similar to that adopted on 15 September. D company was instructed to lead the first wave, C company the

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second with the Lewis guns of D company, and the final, third, wave consisted of A and B companies. The distance between each wave was again set at 50 yards.⁹⁰ At zero plus one-hour the 1st Buffs was to start the advance to the second objective, the ‘Brown Line’. At zero plus two hours the 2nd York and Lancs was to pass through and seize the third objective, the ‘Blue Line’, with the 1st KSLI following in close support at not less than 500 yards.⁹¹ Green’s instructions included detailed notes on the artillery for the first time. The formula followed in all previous orders was simply that ‘Field Artillery Barrages will be issued later’. Information on the artillery had obviously permeated down the chain much more quickly and in much greater detail. It is also possible to detect in Green’s orders the impression that for the first time the infantry and the artillery were actually part of an integrated team rather than two distinct entities. A further point of interest is Green’s formation and style of orders compared with those for 15 September. On the former occasion Green supplied long, detailed, prescriptive instructions covering every unit down to platoon and section. This time round he opted for a much simpler approach issuing company orders only. Such an approach may well reflect the extreme shortage of men in the battalion: it was simply inappropriate to talk of platoons when companies were so under-strength, but it may also represent a desire to devolve initiative and not be so directive. Secondly, the Lewis guns were specifically mentioned for the first time and placed in the second wave giving the first wave immediate support and weight of fire. This was probably the outcome of two interlinked factors. On 15 September the battalion was overwhelmed by the weight of enemy firepower; in turn this led to a severe loss of manpower. Green must have drawn the lesson that the rapid and early deployment of automatic, mechanised firepower was absolutely vital if the battalion was to achieve its objectives in the forthcoming battle. It seems that Green was ascending the brutal learning curve of the Western Front.⁹² Immediately before zero on the 25 Buffs’ parties cut the wire in front of the German trenches. Then, at 12.35 p.m., the four mortars of the 16 Light Trench Mortar Battery under Captain Payne put down heavy fire on the German positions in front of 5 Division in conjunction with the main artillery bombardment, and Lance-Corporal Richards’ C company six-man squad of bombers fired their rifle grenades. Following this bombardment and barrage, at 12.39 p.m. bombers in two squads of ten under Sergeant Dowman and Lance-Corporal Ayers of A company attacked up the trench. By 12.45 p.m. the German bombing post had been captured and 15 IB had entered the trench further south. The remaining Germans surrendered shortly after, and a machine gun and fifty prisoners were taken. Unfortunately, the experienced and reliable Dowman and one other man were killed and four were wounded.⁹³ In this brief snapshot an embryonic integrated weapons system can be glimpsed. First, the most forward form of artillery, the Brigade’s 3-inch Stokes Mortars came into action. Infantry was often said to resent the intervention of mortar teams, but this usually referred only to their use in quiet periods; in attack they represented ‘a

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potentially devastating intervention in local battles’.⁹⁴ The heavy Vickers machine guns then entered the equation firing a barrage over the enemy trenches.⁹⁵ In this instance, machine guns laid down fire in support of the attack, and as part of a careful plan designed to interlock with the Buffs’ own firepower. All were then combined with artillery and infantry into a highly effective whole. At zero plus two hours the other assault companies began their advance. Hardly any opposition was encountered and the battalion was soon on its objective. Number 1 Section of the brigade Machine Gun Corps detachment came forward and established positions in the Sunken Road.⁹⁶ On reaching Morval, Captain Corrall noticed a German position a short way in front of him and he judged that it would hinder the advance of the 2nd York and Lancs. He therefore pushed on and in doing so suffered some casualties from the British stationary barrage. Corrall was using his knowledge to assess the situation and assist succeeding attack waves, even though this meant exposing himself and his men to some danger.⁹⁷ Stationary protective barrages often had this effect, denying further advances, the seizing of the initiative and, as the Official History lamented, ‘the enterprise of patrols’.⁹⁸ By 6 p.m. all of Morval, apart from some confusion over the south-west corner, appeared to have fallen.⁹⁹ The fact that four separate Forward Observation Officers reported the capture of the first objective ‘almost as it was taking place’ is proof of the efficiency of communications on the day, and the value of good observation.¹⁰⁰ Corps Headquarters received messages from spotter aircraft stating that the Brown Line (second objective) had fallen around an hour after the assault on it commenced (2.39 p.m.). As it became clear that the objectives were falling relatively easily, Cavan ordered his divisional commanders to push out patrols.¹⁰¹ As noted above, this could be a tricky task given the nature of the British defensive barrage. Attempts were certainly made to follow this order, for at 5 p.m. news came through that patrols were pushing towards Morval Mill. Again the lapse in time was little over an hour. In Great War terms this was almost the equivalent of information relayed in real time. In a very impressive day’s work 6 Division took 500 prisoners, 6 machine guns and 4 heavy trench mortars, while the Corps prisoner haul was 1,800.¹⁰² Casualties were also much lower: the 1st Buffs suffered 90 casualties in all including 17 killed. The British infantry was given the assistance it needed to gain a great victory by the shattering and accurate bombardment. The tanks got nowhere near the fighting, so successful were the troops in conjunction with effective artillery. The 6 Division war diary reveals that the infantry was well aware of the debt it owed to the guns: ‘The enemy had been considerably demoralized by our artillery fire during the days previous to the attack and the constant night firing had interfered with good supplies.’¹⁰³ A similar comment was made in the 16 IB war diary, although it also praised the work of the Lewis gunners, Machine Gunners, and Trench Mortar Batteries, and both remarked on the smoothness and efficiency of communications.¹⁰⁴

German Line

British Line 18 IB

1 KSLI advance to final objective

B&C Coy &

16

IB

B A & oy C

SaillySaillisel

German Bombing Post Morval

Learning: The Buffs on the Somme

Lesboeufs

Ginchy

Map 11. Lesboeufs and Morval, 25 September 1916, 1st Buffs.

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A report titled Lessons To Be Learned From These Operations drawn up by 6 Division at the end of the battle provided a model for bite and hold operations on the Western Front. It stressed the vital importance of accurate and heavy artillery fire on German positions as a preliminary to an operation. In order to ensure accurate artillery fire the infantry was instructed to do all within its power to assist observation by ensuring local dominance through use of its own firepower and the construction of well-sited observation posts. ‘Every particle of information gained will save hundreds of good men.’ The infantry was also urged to help itself by digging good assembly and assault trenches no further than 250 yards from the objective. Once troops left their trenches a creeping barrage was deemed necessary to cover them to their objective. ‘If these conditions can be fulfilled, our infantry can capture any trench, or succession of trenches, with but little loss.’¹⁰⁵ This report was distilled from the after action reports passed up from the battalions through brigades to divisional headquarters, and shows that the BEF was capable of analysing the situation intelligently. It also reveals a logical extension and up-dating of pre-war practice, for in its insistence on intelligent use of ground to ensure fire superiority it was not that far from the issues of fieldcraft plus firepower raised in The Defence of Duffer’s Drift. At the end of September, the 18 Division and 7th Buffs came back to the Somme front with the task of capturing Thiepval and the adjacent Schwaben Redoubt in General Gough’s sector north of the Albert–Bapaume road. Success at Morval had probably reinvigorated Haig who wanted to gain a few more notable victories before winter closed in. In addition, if captured, the Thiepval area offered distinct advantages. First, it would open up much of the German line northwards to observation from the Thiepval ridge. Second, it would give the British more ‘elbow room’, extending and swelling their narrow neck of ground in this sector, and third, as a position much prized by Joffre and the French, Haig would gain kudos from its fall.¹⁰⁶ Maxse certainly believed his division was capable of taking both the village and the vaunted Schwaben Redoubt.¹⁰⁷ As has already been noted, methodical preparation informed by the lessons of experience was Maxse’s doctrine. Reflections on recent operations were rapidly fed back into the division’s system. This can easily be detected in the 7th Buffs’ war diary. Once out of the line in August it immediately commenced a rigorous training regime. Monier-Williams, temporarily in charge in Ransome’s absence, convened regular conferences of officers to discuss ways of improving training. Attention was given to the specialists, particularly Lewis guns and bombers, and the integration of a draft of 191 men from the West Kent cyclists. Elaborate exercises were held including night patrols, attacking and defending a wood, rapid consolidation, use of the Lewis gun to cover bombing operations, and other tactical lessons for Lewis gunners. Private C. R. Smith recorded the number of practise assaults carried out, and noted in his diary: ‘the reason we kept doing the same thing over again is to get everyone to become

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acquainted with the method, and of working on his own initiative in case of commanders being casualties.’¹⁰⁸ The brigadier witnessed one such exercise and acted as umpire. Having suffered significant officer casualties, Ransome and Monier-Williams worked the young officers hard in order to bring them up to standard setting tactical problems to solve.¹⁰⁹ Assault formations were also considered: brigade headquarters ordered an exercise in which each battalion attacked under a creeping barrage on a three company front with each company covered by one forward platoon. One company was to form the battalion reserve. These experiments with a thinned out, compact, ‘pyramid’ formation may well have been influenced by General Jacob’s (II Corps) reflections on the wave system in his Miscellaneous Notes from Divisions, from Recent Fighting (17 August 1916).¹¹⁰ The 7th Buffs did not take part in the main assaults on Thiepval or the Schwaben Redoubt, but was brought up on 1 October along with the rest of the 55 IB to subdue the remnants of German resistance in the redoubt. Over the next week the battalion fought an intense close-quarter battle with the Germans. Blinded by poor weather, hampered by the geography and the close proximity of friend and foe, the British artillery did not provide much support. Instead a grinding infantry slog took place.¹¹¹ In the close confines of the redoubt the bomb was the most useful weapon, despite a growing distaste for this weapon among higher commanders. Nonetheless, the emphasis placed on bombing during recent training certainly paid off. On 2 October, Second Lieutenant Chamberlain held a bomb-stop under a three-and-a-half-hour artillery barrage and then a bombing assault. His team of bombers, snipers, and Lewis gunners repelled all enemy attacks: Private C. R. Smith noted that ‘the Huns have learned to dread these little machine guns’.¹¹² Sergeant Steel and 5 other men threw 250 bombs during the ninety-minute assault. The Germans then shelled for thirty minutes before putting in another attack that was also beaten off. On 3, the Germans made a flamethrower attack and took 200 yards of trench on the north-east face of the redoubt, but Second Lieutenant A. S. Hayfield led a bombing party which, supported by Stokes mortar fire, regained the position. Hayfield was injured the next day and died on 5 still in the trenches; evacuation proved impossible during the constant fighting.¹¹³ The Buffs suffered 212 casualties during the week: 1 officer and 26 OR killed, 1 officer died of wounds, 9 officers and 152 OR wounded, and 23 OR missing.¹¹⁴ Frustrated by the lack of progress, Maxse sacked Brigadier-General Sir Thomas Jackson and replaced him with Lieutenant-Colonel Price, commander of 7th Beds. Revealing the influence brigadiers could have on the rank and file, Cude’s diary shows his bitter resentment at this decision and expresses his appreciation for Jackson’s steadfast refusal to undertake pointless assaults on the lost faces of the redoubt.¹¹⁵ Attacking Thiepval and the Schwaben Redoubt was never going to be an easy task and it required a high degree of planning. When the British official historian took an overview of operations on Gough’s Reserve Army front, he

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noted a depressingly familiar characteristic. Miles criticised the lack of overall preparation for the assaults along the Thiepval ridge. The German positions demanded the full application of siege warfare techniques, yet this was often absent; he then commented: ‘In the later attacks, a great degree of co-ordination along the whole front might have increased the prospects of success.’¹¹⁶ Nonetheless, Haig was determined to push on with the offensive, as he believed the Germans were crumbling rapidly. Gough was instructed to capture Beaumont Hamel and Serre (Allenby’s Third Army was to take Gommecourt), while Rawlinson was given the objective of Beaumetz, eight miles east of Flers, with the intention of taking Marcoing and Cambrai.¹¹⁷ Rawlinson needed to gain the Le Transloy line as the pre-requisite for such an impressive advance. Preparations for the assault on this hastily improved German position during the first week in October were ruined by poor weather. Winter had drawn in rapidly and turned the battlefield into a quagmire. Aerial reconnaissance proved almost impossible in the rain and low cloud, and the guns were further hampered by the fact that Fourth Army was now advancing on to the lower slopes of a valley, meaning the artillery lost the benefit of observation over the enemy lines.¹¹⁸ 12 Division was scheduled to take Bayonet Trench from its positions on the edge of Gueudecourt village, and advance a further 500 yards on 7 October. Cope’s orders to the 6th Buffs make interesting reading as regards tactics; although based on the Red Book, they show his own personal innovations. He decided to attack on a three-company front (A–C), keeping D company in support. A and C companies on the right and left were to take two objectives, but B in the middle was given one. Each company was to attack in four waves on a single platoon front. This gave the battalion a narrow but bulky punch and was no doubt designed to compensate for the poor ground which, being so heavily cratered and boggy, was bound to divide and splinter the advancing troops. In order to increase firepower, Cope ordered all rifles to be ready with ten rounds and the first wave platoons to take a Lewis gun team.¹¹⁹ Fifteen minutes before zero hour (1.45 p.m.) the Germans began an intense bombardment of the division’s front line. The divisional historians believed that the Germans had gained some prior knowledge of the assault time; however, it is far more likely that routine observation and intelligence informed the reaction. Attacking in the afternoon had become habitual as it provided artillery observers with the opportunity of making their final assessments and adjustments in daylight.¹²⁰ As the Buffs went over the top heading for a solid bank running across no man’s land, C company was immediately pinned down by machine gun fire, but A and B managed to advance to the first objective, suffering heavy casualties. Most of B company was unable to advance beyond the bank, as the ground sloped sharply upward beyond it and made the men easy targets as they slogged through the boggy ground.¹²¹ A foothold was gained on the first objective, but the material improvement to the British line was negligible. Eight officers were killed, including the battalion medical officer, and 12 were wounded, while 347 OR

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Beaulencourt n co ch Ba ren T

Stormy Trench

G Ra erm B company inb an ow Lin 2nd Su e: ch objective pp en ort r 7/RWK T ild M British Line

A company 2nd objective Cl

ou

dy

Tr

en

ch

6th Buffs

Gueudecourt

Flers

Map 12. Gueudecourt, 7 October 1916, 6th Buffs.

were killed, wounded or missing. Among the wounded officers was Cope, who had attempted to intervene by taking personal control in no man’s land, but was soon hit and only saved by the bravery of a small group of men who shielded his body from further hits. It was a disastrous ending to the battle for the 6th Buffs. Brigadier General Cator was forthright in his report on the action. He blamed the inadequate forming-up positions, the poor performance of the British artillery owing to bad observation resulting in ‘fire [which] failed to do any damage’, and the inexperience of many officers and men, many of whom had only recently been drafted into the brigade. He concluded ‘that at all costs it is necessary that proper observation should be obtained . . . before another attack is launched’.¹²² A month later the 7th Buffs made the Buffs’ final contribution to the battle, which was itself in its concluding phase. By November conditions on the Somme had deteriorated still further, and Haig’s decision to continue the battle in these circumstances was probably partly inspired by his desire to gain a final victory before the allied conference planned for 15–16 November.¹²³ The 18 Division

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was still on the Fifth Army (as Gough’s force had been renamed at the end of October) front, and was ordered to take Desiré Trench to the north of the Albert–Bapaume road in order to gain a commanding position on the Ancre heights. Meticulous preparation might have been the watchword of Maxse’s division, but on this occasion it collapsed. On 12 November a conference of battalion and company commanders and adjutants was held at 55 IB headquarters in order to discuss the forthcoming attacks. Three days later brigade headquarters instructed the 7th Buffs that operations were suspended indefinitely.¹²⁴ Doubtless this came as a relief to Major Brice (in temporary command) for the battalion was laid low with an outbreak of trench fever. Two days later the position was reversed completely as Brice was informed that the assault was to go ahead on the following day.¹²⁵ The battalion rushed up to the trenches without a full reconnaissance or full knowledge of the German positions. Brice opted for the Red Book formation of a two-platoon company front in two waves. At 6.10 a.m. the battalion began its advance under a shrapnel barrage; two minutes later a German barrage began to fall around the Buffs’ forming up positions. In the darkness of a bleak November morning Brice found it very hard to gain reliable information. After early optimistic reports it became obvious that the advance was not going well. Held up in no man’s land, groups of the Buffs advanced only when the 7th RWK on the right managed to get into Desiré Trench. Eventually this mixed group forced their way along the trench and cleared it.¹²⁶ The following day Brice observed the ground closely and saw that the Germans had consolidated a number of shell holes in front of Desiré Trench. As the number of A company dead surrounding these positions showed, they had provided sufficient cover for a fierce resistance. Only one A company man escaped death or injury, and the long-serving company commander, Captain H. A. Dyson, was killed. The 18 Division’s history refers to him as a man who ‘possessed knowledge and judgement, and was a great personal force. The men placed implicit trust in him.’¹²⁷ Brice’s report was damning. He condemned the faulty initial intelligence drawn from aerial observation which reported both Desiré and Grandcourt trenches largely empty, and failed to mention the shell hole positions. He confirmed that the barrage had missed the shell holes and failed in its counter-battery role. Rebutting reports that the German barrage was feeble, Brice commented on its punishing strength. He concluded with the depressing statement that an under-strength battalion had been rushed into an assault without the benefit of adequate reconnaissance, intelligence work, or artillery cover. A brigade report took up some of these sentiments, stating that the contrasting success of the 7th RWK and 8th E. Surrey was largely down to familiarity with the ground, ‘too much importance cannot be attached to the value of . . . personal reconnaissance.’¹²⁸ The successes of these units allowed the awful failure of the 7th Buffs to be ignored in the general celebration of yet another 18 Division victory.¹²⁹ However, when Miles placed these achievements in the wider context of the fighting on Fifth Army front, he remained critical of these ‘limited attacks, [which were] for the most part hurriedly planned and ill co-ordinated’.¹³⁰

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Grandcourt Trench

Approximate line of Desiré Trench

7th Buffs

a gin Re nch Tre

Map 13. Desiré Trench, 18 November 1916, 7th Buffs.

Any overall assessment of the Buffs on the Somme must come back to the criteria laid out at the start of this chapter concerning the elements the battalions had some control over and those they did not. In terms of training it is clear that the BEF’s tactical brain was working prior to the battle and was capable of adjustment according to experience. In the spring of 1916 the Buffs prepared according to the latest thinking on tactics and then during the course of the battle attempted to benefit from experience by modifying training and preparations for each assault. The deployment of infantry-owned weapons, and those the infantry could liaise with easily, certainly changed. The experiences of the 1st Buffs reveal the sudden ascent of a learning curve most effectively. As noted, its brief appearances on the Somme reveal a sharp and distinctive change of approach in its tactical deployment and use of firepower. On 25 September, alongside the discharge of the mortars and a machine gun barrage a specialist squad fired rifle-grenades. The battalion deployed these weapons in the hands of men competent in their use to very good effect. Problems arose when skills such as these were concentrated in too few hands making the loss of the specialists damaging to a platoon. Techniques and weapons familiarity had to be spread among a broad number to make the system robust. Revealing a similarly evolutionary process, the 6th Buffs placed the Lewis guns well forward when attacking Bayonet Trench. The evidence

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of the orders and the war diaries certainly hints at a rapidly growing maturity and technical skill within the battalions that may have been encouraged still further by manpower deficiencies.¹³¹ When the Buffs entered the enemy trench, the most useful weapon was the grenade. Miles, writing in the Official History in 1938, believed the infantry began to rely too much on the grenade to the detriment of the rifle during the Battle of the Somme.¹³² However, this criticism is valid only if contextualised properly; it might not have been the ideal weapon for dealing with the enemy over any great distance or for harrying a retreating enemy in ‘semi-open’ conditions, but, as Bidwell and Graham have noted, ‘the grenade was the master weapon in the trench.’¹³³ (This theme will be addressed more fully in the next chapter.) In terms of the internal cohesion of the units, and its effect on combat performance, when each of the battalions made their first appearance in the battle they were fairly well settled. Most of the officers mentioned in the war diaries had been with their battalions for at least six months, some longer. Combat certainly took its toll of officers, but also allowed commanding officers to make shrewd readjustments in the light of battle. In September Ransome of the 7th Buffs carried out a major reshuffle. Second Lieutenant H. A. Dyson, who had taken part in the assault on 1 July, was promoted to the command of A company replacing Captain Wood, with Captain Foxell as his second in command, while Wood was moved to second in command of B company. Second Lieutenant T. Clapperton was given C company from Lieutenant J. G. Hands. It is difficult to construe this as anything other than a deliberate move fundamentally to restructure the battalion.¹³⁴ In the war diaries relating to the 1st Buffs assaults, three long-standing servants are mentioned by name, the company commanders Causton, Corrall, and Kesby. As noted earlier, Causton was a Second Lieutenant in the 2nd Buffs in August 1914, and Corrall and Kesby had been promoted from the ranks in the winter of 1914. Kesby was killed on 15 September during the initial advance into no man’s land. Causton imposed order on the badly mauled assault waves on that day. He assessed the situation calmly sending a clear and concise message to brigade HQ. Corrall revealed his qualities when he tried to establish a forward position on 25 September using his judgement to assist following units. All three had a wealth of experience and knowledge of the battalion, and would have been known by their men. Of the junior officers who took part in the assault, it has been possible to positively identify twelve. Seven had joined the battalion during the spring and summer of 1916, two had been with the battalion since 1915 and one had been promoted from the ranks in October 1914. The knowledge these officers had of their men, and the depth and nature of their military experiences would therefore have varied considerably. The two NCOs mentioned by name, Sergeant Dowman and Lance-Corporal Richards, clearly carried out their tasks effectively, and with a good deal of bravery, as is shown by the fact that Dowman was recommended for the Victoria Cross. However, each battalion was also forced to absorb, integrate, and train large numbers of freshly drafted men during the course of the battle, which

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placed an added emphasis on the survivors to maintain the original spirit of the battalion and its collective fund of useful experiences and lessons. The four Buffs battalions suffered around 2,292 casualties during the Battle of the Somme, over half their combined strength.¹³⁵ Recovering from such losses and maintaining combat efficiency in these circumstances was an extremely difficult proposition. The assaults the Buffs took part in varied in terms of success and sophistication. During the course of the Somme, the BEF revealed that it certainly could improve. When given enough time to prepare, a broad attack front and adequate artillery cover, the infantry proved that it could fight its way forward and take, clear, and hold enemy positions. However, Buffs assaults also show that on far too many occasions these prerequisites were not in place and the blame for this must fall on the inability of the BEF to achieve fully ‘joined-up’ command in 1916. The ultimate aim and objective of each operation was often cloudy and incoherent leading to an inability to apply the BEF’s assets to their best effect. As Bidwell and Graham have noted: All battles are battles of attrition in the sense that attrition means the systematic destruction of the opposing force without necessarily making spatial gain. The modus operandi is the orchestration of fire-power. By its means limited objectives may be gained and the defender destroyed when he attempts to regain vital ground. Ground is important only if it enables the killing business to be more efficient.¹³⁶

Studying the Buffs battalions within the structure of their divisions the overall lesson is that the BEF often missed chances to make the killing business more efficient. Infantry was prepared properly, but the BEF undermined this good work by failing to synergise it correctly with other elements, particularly the artillery, in order to achieve a fully effective outcome. The High Command of the BEF was like a person building a very complex jigsaw puzzle, they had some sections complete and in the right place, but had yet to marry up each chunk to see the complete picture. Further distillation of the lessons of 1916 was required in conjunction with an improvement in the quality and reliability of munitions and weapons. The next chapter will examine how the Buffs went about the process of recovering from the Somme and acting on its lessons. NOTES 1 See, for example, John Lee, ‘Some Lessons of the Somme: The British Infantry in 1917’, in British Commission for Military History, ‘Look to Your Front’, Studies in the First World War (Staplehurst: Spellmount, 1999), 79–88; Gary Sheffield, The Somme (London: Cassell, 2003), 157–64. 2. For a more detailed discussion of the strategic background see David French, British Strategy and War Aims 1914–1916 (London: Allen and Unwin, 1986) and William Philpott, Anglo-French Relations and Strategy on the Western Front, 1914–1918 (Basingstoke: Macmillan, 1996).

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3. Recently the ambiguity of British intentions of the Somme has become an issue of much debate among historians, see Philpott, Anglo-French Relations; Elizabeth Greenhalgh, ‘Why the British Were on the Somme in 1916’, War in History, 6 (1999), 147–73; William Philpott, ‘Why the British Were Really on the Somme: A Reply to Elizabeth Greenhalgh’, War in History, 9 (2002), 446–71; Elizabeth Greenhalgh, ‘Flames over the Somme: A Retort to William Philpott’, War in History, 10 (2003), 335–42. 4. See Robin Prior and Trevor Wilson, Command on the Western Front (Oxford: Blackwell, 1992); Peter Simkins, ‘Co-Stars or Supporting Cast? British Divisions in “The Hundred Days”, 1918’, in Paddy Griffith (ed.), British Fighting Methods in the Great War (London: Frank Cass, 1996), 50–69; Peter Dennis and Jeffrey Grey, Defining Victory, 1918 (Canberra: Army History Unit, Department of Defence, 1999). 5. Shelford Bidwell and Dominick Graham, Fire-Power: British Army Weapons and Theories of War 1904–1945 (London: George Allen & Unwin, 1982), 122; Prior and Wilson, Command on the Western Front, 160–1. 6. NA WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 17, 18, 26 Feb. 1916; WO 95/2207 8th Buffs WD, 4, 28 April 1916. 7. NA WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 30 April 1916 makes the first mention of Lewis gun numbers in a Buffs’ diary by stating that the battalion held four by this date. 8. Paddy Griffith, Battle Tactics of the Western Front: The British Army’s Art of Attack 1916–1918 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1994), 104–19. 9. Griffith, Battle Tactics, 56–7. 10. See, for example, Martin Samuels, Command or Control? Command, Training and Tactics in the British Armies, 1888–1918 (London: Frank Cass, 1995), 124–57. 11. Griffith, Battle Tactics, 57. 12. Ibid., 185; Bidwell and Graham, Fire-Power, 72–3, Tim Travers, The Killing Ground: The British Army, the Western Front and the Emergence of Modern Warfare, 1900–1918 (London: Unwin Hyman, 1990), 127–99. 13. WO 95/1858 37 IB WD, 2 Feb. 1916. 14. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 14 Feb. 1916. 15. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, 27 April 1916. 16. WO 95/2046 55 IB WD, notes of conference 17 Jan. 1916. 17. Ibid. 18. Ibid. 19. Ibid. 20. Ibid. 21. Ibid., 26–30 May 1916. 22. Ibid., instructions in bombing 6 Dec. 1915. 23. Ibid. 24. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 21, 29 Jan., 2, 10 Feb., 15–19 March 1916. 25. WO 95/2207 8th Buffs WD, 1 Jan., 1–4 March 1916. 26. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, Jan.–June 1916. 27. Prior and Wilson, Command on the Western Front, 137–70, see in particular, 164–5. 28. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, 1–15 March 1916; WO 95/2046 55 IB WD, 4 March 1916. 29. Quoted in Prior and Wilson, Command on the Western Front, 156. 30. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 9 Jan. 1916.

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31. Ibid., 4 Feb. 1916. 32. R. S. H. Moody, Historical Records of the Buffs, East Kent Regiment 1914–1919 (London: Medici Society, 1922), 98–9, 108–12, 155–6. 33. Ibid., 139–40, 147–8. 34. WO 95/2015 18 Division WD, Aug. 1915–June 1916; WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, Aug. 1915–June 1916; John Baynes, Far From a Donkey: The Life of General Sir Ivor Maxse (London: Brasseys, 1995) 136–9. 35. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, 1 July 1916. 36. Ibid., Report by Captain A. G. Kenchington on Operations 1 July 1916. 37. Ibid. 38. Baynes, Maxse, 142. 39. Information drawn from Soldiers and Officers Died in the Great War (Sussex: CDRom, Army and Navy Press, 1998). 40. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, 1 July 1916, Report by Captain A. G. Kenchington on Operations 1 July 1916. 41. Sheffield, Somme, 52–5. 42. WO95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 1–3 July 1916. 43. Ibid., 3, 20 July 1916; Major-General Sir Arthur B. Scott (ed.), P. Middleton Brumwell (compiler), The History of the 12th (Eastern) Division in the Great War, 1914–1918 (London: Nisbit & Co. Ltd., 1923), 56–7. 44. Andrew Whitmarsh, ‘The Development of Infantry Tactics in the British 12th (Eastern) Division, 1915–1918’, Stand To! The Journal of the Western Front Association, 48 (Jan. 1997), 28–32; W. Miles, Military Operations France and Belgium, 1916, Vol. 2 (London: Macmillan, 1938), 11–12. 45. Scott and Brumwell, 12th Division, 54. 46. Miles, Military Operations 1916, Vol. 2, 12. 47. Ibid., 208–9. 48. Prior and Wilson, Command on the Western Front, 217–24. 49. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 1–3 Aug. 1916; Whitmarsh, ‘12th Division’, Stand To!, 28–32. 50. WO 95/1824 12 Division WD, Operational Order 98, 2 Aug. 1916. 51. Moody, Historical Records, 143–4. 52. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 3 Aug. 1916. 53. Soldiers and Officers Died, CD-Rom. 54. Scott and Brumwell, 12th Division, 61, 74. 55. WO 95/2207 8th Buffs WD, 22–31 July, 2–5 Aug. 1916. 56. Ibid., 10–18 Aug. 1916; WO 95/2190 24 Division WD, 12 Aug. 1916. 57. Miles, Military Operations 1916, Vol. 2, 190. 58. WO 95/2204 17 IB WD, Operational Order 68, 17 Aug. 1916. 59. Miles, Military Operations 1916, Vol. 2, 190. 60. WO 95/2207 8th Buffs WD, 18–19 Aug. 1916. 61. Ibid., 1–3 Sept. 1916. 62. WO 95/2207 8th Buffs WD, 3 Sept. 1916. 63. Prior and Wilson, Command on the Western Front, 221–5. 64. Ibid., 184. 65. Sheffield, Somme, 75–6. 66. Prior and Wilson, Command on the Western Front, 187–91.

128 67. 68. 69. 70. 71. 72. 73. 74. 75. 76. 77. 78. 79. 80. 81. 82. 83. 84. 85. 86. 87. 88. 89. 90. 91. 92. 93. 94. 95. 96. 97. 98. 99. 100. 101. 102. 103. 104. 105.

Learning: The Buffs on the Somme Ibid., 203–26. Miles, Military Operations 1916, Vol. 2, 232–49. Prior and Wilson, Command on the Western Front, 227–37. Ibid., 235. Miles, Military Operations 1916, Vol. 2, 363. Prior and Wilson, Command on the Western Front, 236. Miles, Military Operations 1916, Vol. 2, 277–8; WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 10–14 Sept. 1916. Moody, Historical Records, 166. WO 95/1582 6 Division WD, 2 Sept. 1916. Miles, Military Operations 1916, Vol. 2, 571. WO 95/1605 16 IB WD, 1 Sept. 1916. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 14 Sept. 1916. Ibid. Miles, Military Operations 1916, Vol. 2, 573. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 15 Sept. 1916; WO 95/1582 6 Division WD, Ross’s correspondence 20 Sept. 1916. Prior and Wilson, Command on the Western Front, 244–5. Ibid., 245–6. Ibid. WO 95/911 XIV Corps WD, Narrative of Operations carried out by XIV Corps against Les Boeufs, Morval, and Combles on 25, 26, 27, 28 Sept. 1916; WO 95/1582 6 Division WD, 25 Sept. 1916. Prior and Wilson, Command on the Western Front, 247. Miles, Military Operations 1916, Vol. 2, 370. See Jonathan Bailey, ‘British Artillery in the Great War’, in Griffith (ed.), British Fighting Methods, 23–49. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 22 Sept. 1916. Ibid. Ibid. Ibid. Ibid. Dowman was recommended for a posthumous VC, but did not receive it. Griffith, Battle Tactics, 115. Paddy Griffith has shown how important and sophisticated Machine Gun Corps tactics had become by late 1916. See Battle Tactics, 122–9. WO 95/1611 16 IB Machine Gun Company WD, 25 Sept. 1916. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 25 Sept. 1916. Miles, Military Operations 1916, Vol. 2, 573. WO 95/911 XIV Corps WD, 25 Sept. 1916. WO 95/1582 6 Division WD, 25 Sept. 1916. Ibid.; WO 95/911 XIV Corps WD, Log of Messages Despatched, 25 Sept. 1916. WO 95/1582 6 Division WD, 25 Sept. 1916; WO 95/911 XIV Corps WD, 25 Sept. 1916. WO 95/1582 6 Division WD, 25 Sept. 1916. WO 95/1605 16 WD, 25 Sept. 1916. WO 95/1582 6 Division WD, Report titled ‘Lessons To Be Learned From These Operations’, no date, but included in Sept. WD.

Learning: The Buffs on the Somme 106. 107. 108. 109. 110. 111. 112. 113. 114. 115. 116. 117. 118. 119. 120. 121. 122. 123. 124. 125. 126. 127. 128. 129. 130.

131. 132. 133. 134. 135. 136.

129

Sheffield, Somme, 75–6, 94–5, 130–1. Baynes, Maxse, 151. IWM 99/56/1 Diary of Private C. R. Smith, 7th Buffs, 7 Sept. 1916. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, Aug.–Sept. 1916. Griffith, Battle Tactics, 70–4. Miles, Military Operations 1916, Vol. 2, 419–22. IWM 99/56/1 Smith diary, 3 Oct. 1916. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, 1–9 Oct. 1916; G. H. F. Nichols, The 18th Division in the Great War (Edinburgh: William Blackwood & Sons, 1922), 125–9. WO 95/2015 18 Division WD, Report on Operations against Thiepval and Schwaben Redoubt. IWM Department of Documents, 129 Con Shelf Private Robert Cude’s diary, 29 Sept. 1916. Miles, Military Operations 1916, Vol. 2, 422. Prior and Wilson, Command on the Western Front, 250. Ibid., 252. Scott and Brumwell, 12th Division, 81; WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 7 Oct. 1916. Scott and Brunwell, 12th Division, 81; Major-General T. O. Marden, A Short History of the 6th Division, August 1914–March 1919, (London: Hugh Rees, 1920), 26. For a graphic description of the assault see IWM Diary of Second Lieutenant W. R. Taylor, 6th Buffs, 7 Oct. 1916. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 7 Oct. 1916; WO 95/1858 37 IB WD, Report on Operations, 7 Oct. 1916. Sheffield, Somme, 144; Prior and Wilson, Command on the Western Front, 255, 260. WO 95/2046 55 IB WD, 12, 15 Nov. 1916; WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, 12, 15 Nov. 1916. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, 16 Nov. 1916; Nichols, 18th Division, 134. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, Report on Operations 18–19 Nov. 1916. Ibid., 19 Nov. 1916; Nichols, 18th Division, 135. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, Report on Operations 18–19 Nov. 1916; WO 95/2046 55 IB WD, Report on Operations 18–19 Nov. 1916. Baynes, Maxse, 163–4. Miles, Military Operations 1916, Vol. 2, 523–4. For a discussion of Gough’s performance on the Somme see G. Sheffield, ‘An Army Commander on the Somme: Hubert Gough’ in Gary Sheffield and Dan Todman (eds.), Command and Control on the Western Front: The British Army’s Experience 1914–1918 (Staplehurst: Spellmount, 2004), 71–98. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 14–25 Sept. 1916; WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 7 Oct. 1916. Miles, Military Operations 1916, Vol. 2, 571. Bidwell and Graham, Fire-Power, 124. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, 13 Sept. 1916. Figures drawn from the battalion, brigade, and divisional war diaries and Soldiers and Officers Died CD-Rom. Bidwell and Graham, Fire-Power, 70–1.

6 Applying: 1917 In November 1916, a few days before the great Battle of the Somme was closed down, the British and French High Commands met at Chantilly to discuss strategy for 1917. In essence, they agreed to repeat the policy of 1916: all the allies should strike during the course of the year in order to maintain a ring of constant pressure on the Central Powers. This strategy proved somewhat unattractive to various British and French politicians appalled by the idea of further bloody battles of attrition. Lloyd George was the most significant British doubter and, having secured enough support to topple and replace the Prime Minister, Herbert Asquith, immediately started exploring alternative strategies. A solution appeared to present itself in the form of General Robert Nivelle, the charismatic new French commander-in-chief. Nivelle inspired Lloyd George with his plan to end the war in short order via a devastating assault along the Chemin des Dames ridge. The concept appealed to Lloyd George for it seemed to place the onus on the French army, and merely required the British to play a supporting role. Haig, expressing the opinion of most of the British military establishment, was highly dubious and continued to advocate his preferred strategy of a major British campaign in Flanders. Undeterred, Lloyd George maintained his support for Nivelle, and at the notorious Calais conference of February 1917 effectively subordinated Haig and the BEF to Nivelle for the duration of his offensive. Haig was then forced to put his own plans into abeyance in order to assist Nivelle. It created a legacy of distrust between the BEF and the politicians back in London which was to have extremely unfortunate consequences on the smooth running of the war effort.¹ For the fighting men of the BEF it meant preparations for an operation along the Arras front. 1917 is often identified as the year in which the BEF perfected the set-piece operation: the Somme fighting taught the British many lessons that were applied the following year.² The Buffs fought in the four British battles of 1917, Arras, Messines, Third Ypres (‘Passchendaele’), and Cambrai, and will thus help to test this particular thesis (see Appendix 3C). New developments forged both by experiences on the battlefield and improved efficiency in the domestic war economy were breaking through by the winter of 1916–17. As was stated in the previous chapter, the Royal Artillery was the vital force, and the Somme had transformed

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its equipment and personnel into a far more effective weapon. During the Somme battle nearly 25 per cent of guns revealed faults and vast amounts of dud ammunition were fired. By the spring of 1917 British industry was supplying shells and guns in far greater numbers, and perhaps more importantly, in far greater quality. In addition, a vital new component was added, the 106 Fuse. The 106 Fuse was a reliable instantaneous, or grazing, fuse, which exploded on immediate contact rather than burying itself before detonation. This meant wire entanglements could be shelled more effectively, and there was less likelihood of turning the battlefield into a cratered morass.³ When combined with the creeping barrages pioneered on the Somme, these new developments gave the artillery the ability to suppress the enemy more fully than ever before. At the same time the lessons of the Somme were being incorporated into the infantry. SS135 Instructions for the Training of Divisions for Offensive Action was issued in December 1916. It digested many of the themes of an early publication, Preliminary Notes on the Tactical Lessons of the Recent Operations (SS119 issued in July 1916), and Jacob’s reflections of September.⁴ The pamphlet laid much stress on the need to follow a creeping barrage as quickly and closely as possible: the lessons of 1915 and the Somme had found their clearest expression. Once in an enemy defensive system, infantry units were advised to deploy all their firepower and work in close co-operation with the Stokes mortars to suppress strong points and machine gun emplacements. Meticulous and methodical, almost plodding, preparation was the zeitgeist of the publication. Two months later in February 1917 perhaps the most important training pamphlet of the war was published and issued, SS143 Instructions for the Training of Platoons for Offensive Action. Buttressing Instructions for the Training of Divisions for Offensive Action and infused by the lessons learnt during the Somme fighting, it too emphasised the need to close with the enemy as quickly as possible once an assault commenced. The pamphlet also called for a radical restructuring of the infantry’s basic building block, the platoon. Four specialised fighting sections were created, thus expanding the army’s now well-established training system. One section was dedicated to bombing, the second provided the Lewis gun team, the third was the rifles, and the fourth, the rifle-grenadiers; overall direction of the platoon was provided by a small HQ section. Tactically, the platoon ethos was now very flexible, as it was designed to use its weapons mix to subdue any enemy position left intact after a barrage. Platoons were instructed to lead with their riflemen and bombers screened by a line of scouts. If a resilient enemy was encountered, these sections were to swing towards the flank while the rifle-bombers and Lewis guns provided covering fire from the front. Once on the flank the riflemen and bombers were then to close in while still under the cover of the rifle-bombs and Lewis guns. Although these tactical recommendations still conformed to an idea of linear/wave tactics, the essential lessons of probing for the soft flank had been instilled and, as will be seen, Buffs platoons often managed to advance a long way, sometimes in the most unpropitious circumstances, due to such training.⁵

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Almost as soon as the pamphlet was distributed the Buffs appear to have adopted its recommendations. The 1st Buffs reorganised in concert with the entire 16 IB and 6 Division on 19 February, and immediately began to pay close attention to ‘recreational training’ schemes.⁶ It is equally clear from the war diaries of the 6th, 7th, and 8th Buffs that the new arrangements were instituted at much the same time: the 8th Buffs diary refers to the fact that ‘by careful arrangement the new organisation of an infantry battalion was carried out and the companies have been told off and disposed according to the new provisions and all companies were refitted and reequipped all deficiencies being made good as soon as possible.’⁷ The survival of two platoon roll books from the 7th Buffs helps to illustrate the effect of this restructuring neatly. On 28 November 1916, the four sections of Number 9 Platoon contained an eclectic mix of men. Number One section had seven riflemen, one Lewis gunner, one man employed with the ASC, one with the water cart, one company runner and one GHQ runner. The second section contained five riflemen, one Lewis gunner, the company cook and a Battalion HQ runner. An equal number of riflemen were included in the third section along with two more Lewis gunners, a man working with the Royal Engineers, the platoon observer, and a man assisting with the battalion transport. Finally, the fourth section provided the greatest assortment with the company’s observer, two servants, two Lewis gunners, and a man working with the trench mortar battery.⁸ The lack of cohesion implied by this jumble of men is thrown into sharp relief by the method revealed in the accompanying notebook which, although undated, is clearly from the spring of 1917, containing as it does many of the same names completed in the same hand. By this time Number One section was transformed into bombers and contained one first class shot to protect the bombing team. The second section contained the riflemen, the third the Lewis gunners, and the fourth the rifle-bombers. All odds and sods, of which there were still quite a few and which were doubtless necessary, such as the man employed to draw water from the cart, were gathered into mini-sections. Most interesting is the composition of the Lewis gun team for, if judged by pre-war occupations, it was the elite team containing as it did men drawn mostly from technical or educated backgrounds: a stovekeeper, an electrician, an engineering clerk, a bank clerk, two other clerks, and an insurance agent. A former greengrocer, and only two labourers, made up the rest of the team.⁹ The reorganisation demanded by SS143 was integrated into the process of training the new drafts and general rebuilding after the exertions of the Somme battle. In December 1916, the 7th Buffs received a draft of 315 men who were immediately given a lecture on attack formations by Ransome.¹⁰ Packed out by a draft of 121 men in December 1916, the 6th Buffs recovered from its low of roughly 500 officers and men in October to full strength by the end of March 1917.¹¹ Starting with a draft of around 100 men in late December 1916, the 8th Buffs received reinforcements in small batches until it too was up to strength by the end of February 1917.¹² A similar pattern can be detected in the 1st Buffs: 319

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OR arrived on 9 October followed by further drafts throughout the late winter and early spring.¹³ Throughout 1917, however, the Buffs continued to face the problem of a huge diversity between nominal strength and actual trench strength. Cyril Falls, former infantry officer and author of the official volume on the Battle of Arras, commented critically on this issue highlighting the frequency with which battalions went into the trenches severely under strength due to the number of men on courses or assigned alternative duties. He believed many units attacked with around 500 men, or just over half of usual strength, which usually meant placing a heavy emphasis on recently arrived drafts.¹⁴ At Arras in April 1917, the 6th Buffs appears to have attacked with no more than about 550 officers and men, and in the same month the actual trench strength of the 1st Buffs was 410 OR.¹⁵ A significant part of this rebuilding process was the appointment of new commanders. The 8th Buffs filled gaps in its NCOs ranks by confirming all acting and substantive candidates on 21 February 1917.¹⁶ Four months earlier the battalion had transferred ten recently arrived officers to the 6th Buffs in order to help it recover from the losses incurred at Gueudecourt.¹⁷ Although the different battalions must have had their own essential spirit and identity, this did at least ensure the familiarity of the regimental ethos. Continuity of service was also important. The Buffs were relatively fortunate in this regard. The 1st Buffs was commanded from May 1916 to November 1917 by one of its pre-war officers, H. W. Green.¹⁸ A similar situation of long service held sway in the other battalions, but with some interesting local variations. Lieutenant-Colonel Cope of the 6th Buffs took command in March 1916 and relinquished it in June 1917. Major A. S. Smeltzer, a 1st Buffs CSM in August 1914, succeeded him thus completing an impressive career trajectory in the Buffs.¹⁹ Lieutenant-Colonel Ransome served even longer than Green and Cope; he took command of the 7th Buffs in January 1916 and did not relinquish it until September 1918. A slightly more sorry story was played out in the 8th Buffs.²⁰ The Germans raided the battalion on 5 January 1917, catching many of its inexperienced troops completely unawares. Nearly fifty men became casualties, the vast majority taken away as prisoners. Unwilling to blame the relevant company commander, the real culprit according to many officers, Lieutenant-Colonel Lucas, accepted full responsibility and was promptly removed. Lucas, a pre-war Buffs Regular, had been with the battalion since the spring of 1916, but the Buffs once again closed ranks for he was replaced with another pre-war Regular of the 1st Buffs, Major F. C. R. Studd, and another 1st Buffs officer was transferred to act as Adjutant.²¹ Each battalion also contained a smattering of officers who appeared to become invulnerable: when Captain Birrell of the 1st Buffs left for England in October 1917 he had served two years and ten months with his battalion in France; similarly when Captain C. D. Hayfield departed to take up a staff appointment at 18 Division in the spring of 1918, he had been with the battalion almost continually since January 1916; Captain Gulland played a similar role in the 8th Buffs.²² The studding of

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each battalion with these pivotal men probably proved extremely important in the survival of a battalion ethos and the maintenance of training schedules infused by experience. The winter of 1916–17 saw training become increasingly specialised. Reflecting Maxse’s stamp, the 7th Buffs continued to take training very seriously. During November and December the battalion practised attack formations regularly and took part in various brigade exercises. On 24 January, Ransome held a conference at battalion HQ to discuss the training of the new drafts, promotions, Lewis gun teams, and likely future operations.²³ In April, the 18 Division began training according to the SS135.²⁴ The 8th Buffs concentrated on company training and provided a schedule that was approved by the divisional commander.²⁵ The 1st Buffs and the 16 IB paid particular attention to schemes involving contact aircraft and, perhaps anticipating a significant advance, even carried out an exercise in street fighting.²⁶ But it was the 6th Buffs that trained most vigorously, for the 12 Division had been assigned a role in the initial assault at Arras. On 1 January, the battalion began a new training schedule for its specialists, commencing classes for bombers, rifle-bombers, Lewis gunners, and signallers. In February, the battalion moved onto company attack formations, then battalion exercises before culminating in brigade rehearsals in which the Buffs acted as a support unit passing through the 6th Queen’s and on to a final objective.²⁷ These exercises were repeated during March, when the battalion also increased its firepower significantly as it reached the establishment strength of sixteen Lewis guns for the first time.²⁸ On 31 March, the men were shown around the ancient caves and tunnels under Arras which were used to bring troops up to the line in secrecy, and five days later the battalion returned to await the start of the offensive.²⁹ The 12 Division formed the centre of IV Corps which held the southern Arras front. The task allotted to the division was to penetrate some 4,000 yards through three defensive systems, and establish itself in the Wancourt–Feuchy line including the Feuchy Chapel Redoubt on the Cambrai Road. The 6th Buffs was to perform the role the battalion had already rehearsed, namely to support the 6th Queen’s in its assault on the first objective, then pass through and take the second objective, the Houlette Work, an egg-shaped redoubt in the second line.³⁰ At this point it is worth comparing both the Buffs’ specific, and the general, preparations for Arras with the immediate preliminaries before the opening day of the Somme battle. As on 1 July, the battle was prefaced by a large-scale artillery bombardment (Allenby, commanding Third Army had wanted a much shorter bombardment, but was overruled by Haig). The assaults were also on a similar frontage, 27,000 yards on the Somme and 25,000 yards at Arras, and both involved fourteen division. But, as Gary Sheffield has pointed out, the BEF was now backed up by creeping barrages and a much greater density of guns, almost three times greater: 963 guns, or one per 21 yards, as opposed to 455, or one per 57 yards, ten months earlier.³¹ Perhaps even more significantly, the 106 Fuse was used, and

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counter-battery work was much more methodical and cleverly planned: it did not commence until 7 April in order to prevent the Germans from swapping their gun positions as soon as the British artillery began searching them out.³² On 12 Division front this far more sophisticated barrage was supplemented by a Lievens projector which came into action at 10.30 p.m. on 8 to engage remaining enemy strong points, while all twenty-four of the Division’s Vickers machine guns were gathered into one group to provide a continual barrage.³³ At zero (5.30 a.m.) on 9 April the 6th Buffs left the trenches and moved forward in artillery formation (long, thin files) under a terrific artillery and machine gun barrage. The Buffs swiftly followed through the 6th Queen’s, and waited for the barrage to lift on the second objective. More opposition was encountered than in the short struggle for the first objective, and the Houlette Work proved its value as a defensive position by stiffening the whole German line. At this point training according to SS143 paid off, as the attacking companies engaged the machine gun positions with Lewis guns and rifle-grenades while the rifle units worked around both flanks of the position and opened a gap through which passed the bombers. Having achieved local fire superiority with its own weapons, the Buffs took the Houlette Work and the entire second objective passed into British hands. The attack had fallen well behind schedule meaning that the 35 IB was incapable of taking the entire third objective, but an enormous success had been achieved. The Buffs suffered 2 officers killed and 7 wounded, and 21 OR killed, 149 wounded and 18 missing.³⁴ Success was therefore not exactly cheap,

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Map 14. Houlette Work, Arras, 9 April 1917, 6th Buffs.

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although it was far less costly than the 387 casualties suffered in the battalion’s last action on the Somme. When Brigadier-General Cator compiled his report on the battle on 16 April 1917, he highlighted a number of factors underpinning the success. First, he mentioned the thorough preparations made by all in his brigade. He then spoke favourably of the tunnel network under Arras which had saved his men from the rigours of spending many hours exposed in the trenches before zero: ‘the men started the action both morally and physically fresh’. Finally, he praised the artillery that had both suppressed the enemy guns and neutralised many important enemy positions.³⁵ Cator had identified all three crucial elements: methodical preparation, fresh men who understood their tasks completely, and artillery superiority. The 37 IB, indeed the whole of 12 Division, had shown exactly what good infantrymen could achieve with their weapons when given adequate artillery support. The infantry got the chance to reveal their skills only because the artillery provided them with the opportunity. Artillery and infantry had worked together to achieve the victory. Unhindered by enemy artillery thanks to effective counter-battery fire, the 6th Buffs demonstrated that they were more than capable of forcing well-entrenched German troops out of their positions. On 9 April, the BEF pulled-off a master class in the set piece, limited objectives operation: it was a very long way from 1 July 1916. The 6th Buffs returned to the Arras front early in May and attacked again on 3 in very different circumstances. Also attacking that day was the 7th Buffs fresh from a month-long training period spent well behind the lines. Throughout April the 7th Buffs had adhered rigidly to a programme constructed round the precepts laid out in SS143. Much emphasis was therefore placed on platoon tactics including exercises in which platoons switched from artillery formation to attack formations, practised flanking, reconnaissance, advanced guard, direction-keeping schemes, and attacks which demanded the combination of all its weapons. Officers and NCOs were given special tasks testing their abilities at map reading and message writing. Ransome also ordered the deconstruction and analysis of each day’s training in special evening conferences.³⁶ Amateurism was being driven out due to this obsession with efficiency and education. The 7th Buffs had another reason to be confident. On the morning of 23 February, while in the trenches facing Miraumont on the Somme front, sentries and observers of C company had noticed the first signs of the great German retreat towards the newly completed Hindenburg Line defences. By the next morning the battalion was able to confirm a general retreat and was the first unit within the 18 Division to push out patrols. As these patrols gathered confidence and began engaging German rearguards, the first signs of a new problem began to emerge: the conduct of semi-open warfare.³⁷ Never before had any Buffs unit had to advance in a zone not completely covered by major defensive works and against an enemy leapfrogging backwards between set, but scattered, positions. This issue became increasingly significant during the course of 1917, as will be seen.³⁸ At the

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time, however, the 7th Buffs was praised for its alert attitude and prompt response to the unfolding situation. When both the 6th and 7th Buffs were pitched back into the Battle of Arras, it had degenerated from its highly encouraging start to an extremely nasty slugging match for very little gain.³⁹ Haig had actually decided to limit the offensive after a conference with his army commanders on 30 April, but his new target of establishing the line Lens, Acheville, Fresnoy, Greenland Hill, Bois du Vert, and Riencourt remained a demanding task.⁴⁰ The 18 Division was given the role of taking and holding the villages of Chérisy and Riegel overlooking the River Sensée on the southern Arras sector, while the 12 Division was instructed to take a line running north from Keeling Copse on the sloping ground running northwards to the River Scarpe.⁴¹ Both plans created risks unnecessarily: the 18 Division advancing towards the third objective was to do so in concert with the 14 Division. However, this advance would create a gap in the Third Army front which the 21 Division was supposed to fill with the aid of tanks. The Somme should have taught the BEF that gaps in the front and staggered objectives often allowed the defender to pour fire against a flank isolating the most successful attacking units. Similarly, the 12 Division was to attempt no move towards Pelves until Roeux was taken. On the surface this appeared to err on the side of caution,

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Map 15. Chérisy, 3 May 1917, 7th Buffs.

River Sensée

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but if Pelves and Roeux resisted capture, the 12 Division would find itself exposed to fire directed from these villages. A further problem arose when Haig intervened at a late stage to alter the zero hour. Both Allenby and Gough had planned for a dawn attack and had set their own zero hours close to first light. Haig insisted on a night assault and eventually a joint zero of 3.45 a.m. was imposed on both men that suited neither.⁴² On the 7th Buffs’ front the battle did not open auspiciously. Some batteries began firing prematurely while others came into action only slowly. Fortunately, the attacking troops were out of the trenches before the German artillery began to pound the frontline, revealing the failure of British counter-battery work. The intense darkness soon confused everyone, as the Buffs stumbled into 18th Middlesex men who had drifted across from their front. Despite this ragged opening, Chérisy was soon taken, but on beginning the advance towards the Sensée it became clear that the flanks were in the air. Initially, touch was maintained on the left with the 8th E. Surrey, and a number of Germans were killed and captured on the first objective. On the right, a German machine gun firing straight down a trench held up the advance until a Stokes Mortar came forward and put it out of action. Given the problems caused by the darkness and the inconsistent barrage, the advance of the Buffs was extremely creditable, and the survivors set about consolidating their gains. With both flanks unsecured and no sign of reinforcement, however, this became increasingly difficult and by 11 a.m. a general retirement had commenced which soon resulted in a retreat back to the original line.⁴³ A depressingly similar story was played out on the 6th Buffs’ front. Supported by a much more disciplined barrage, the leading waves forced their way through to Keeling Copse and the final objective. But in the darkness the supporting waves often missed the remaining German defenders who then started to interdict all attempts at mutual support. German artillery fire also made it impossible for the 7th Queen’s to leave the trenches and support the Buffs. Once again poor counter-battery fire had caused a fatal weakness in the plan. Unassisted, the successful attackers had little hope of holding their new positions and, like the 7th Buffs, began a slow retreat back to their own lines. Second Lieutenants Cochrane and Gunter had advanced furthest taking a line north-east of Keeling Copse with forty men. Forced to retreat through three German defensive positions the two officers managed to bring back only thirteen men. Cope gathered his survivors and resisted all further orders to renew the assault.⁴⁴ An analysis of this failure reveals the lessons the BEF had still to learn. Unlike the 9 April, the attacks of 3 May were largely improvised affairs. The meticulous calculations and preparations that had underpinned success then were missing nearly a month later. Artillery observation and counter-battery work had been hampered by the poor weather and the lack of detailed knowledge about the new enemy positions. As on the Somme, planning had then been confused by a lack of co-ordination between Haig and his subordinate commanders seen most

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Map 16. Pelves, 3 May 1917, 6th Buffs.

detrimentally in the last-minute decision to alter the zero hour. The assault in the pitch black of an unusually wintry May morning had undoubtedly caused chaos, compounded by the fact that neither battalion had been given the chance to make a particularly detailed reconnaissance of the ground. Lieutenant-Colonel Cope was absolutely convinced that his men would have succeeded in a daylight attack when his supporting companies would have seen and eliminated the remaining opposition.⁴⁵ Despite these problems, the infantry had shown that the platoon reorganisations and new training regimes had provided the troops with the ability to make-up for some shortcomings in the artillery cover. In both assaults elements of the Buffs had fought their way forward, suppressed German strong points, and established footholds in their final objectives. Failures on the part of the Buffs were intimately connected with the experiences of the 7th Buffs in February. Having fought their way beyond the immediate and continuous trench lines, the Buffs obviously found it very hard to achieve defensive fire superiority and defend scattered, non-linear positions. Semi-open warfare demanded a slightly different set of skills from those required to storm positions, eliminate strong points, and clear trenches. Cyril Falls commented on this problem in the official history,

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and identified musketry as the main issue. He contended that many of the captured positions could have been held had the troops possessed greater rifle skills.⁴⁶ The resulting failure was compounded by the heavy losses. The 6th Buffs suffered 14 officer casualties and 360 OR; the 7th Buffs incurred very similar numbers, 12 officers and 368 OR.⁴⁷ Gary Sheffield has called Arras ‘a victory of sorts’, pointing out the skill with which the BEF carried out a set-piece battle on 9 April for limited objectives. He attributes the subsequent degeneration of the battle to the fact that Britain was still the junior partner in a coalition war, and as such could not call off the offensive when the French expected its maintenance.⁴⁸ Looked at from the perspective of the Buffs, the opening day was a great victory proving the validity of Sheffield’s assertion, but, while accepting his wider interpretation of the battle, the overriding impression from the sharp end is that 3 May was a waste of trained troops highly skilled in the performance of certain key tasks. Once out of the line both the 6th and 7th Buffs immediately attempted to analyse the lessons of Arras revealing the reflexive nature and professional attitude inherent in many New Army units. Both Cope and Ransome had watched the latter stages of the advance and retreat on 3 May from the frontline and both men came to very similar opinions about the strengths and weaknesses of their men. On 5 June, Ransome marched his men to the range at Agny where he ordered firing practise. It was noted that ‘the men were bad at rapid fire, and that Lewis gunners were very slow at laying their guns, and getting onto the target. Training, it was decided, would therefore be devoted to musketry subjects.’ Fourteen pages of musketry training schedules were then drawn up.⁴⁹ Cope took a similar line. He ordered classes in fire control, fire discipline, and extended ordered movements and formations covered by fire.⁵⁰ Such responses show that Cope and Ransome had appreciated the reasons behind the loss of ground and set about rectifying the situation. These reactions were part of the BEF’s growing obsession with the rifle. After placing so much emphasis on the bomb in 1915 and much of 1916, the BEF’s commanders suddenly became aware of the lack of rifle skills. From the winter of 1916, emphasis was placed on the value of the rifle, but at the same time the bomb was downplayed. This was only partly beneficial; the infantry undoubtedly needed musketry skills, particularly when dealing with enemy soldiers in the open, but the relegation of the bomb in official manuals militated against an understanding of mutually supporting or inter-locking weapons, each with its own value and role.⁵¹ As noted earlier, the Arras offensive was pursued in order to support French operations along the Chemin Des Dames that were supposed to bring the war to a swift end. Nivelle’s offensive actually achieved some dramatic results, but having staked so much on a decisive breakthrough, his limited victories took on the aura of failures. Having warned Lloyd George against acceptance of Nivelle’s plans and been overruled, Haig emerged vindicated and was in the ascendant. He returned to his original plans for an offensive in the Ypres salient, and gained support from

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the Admiralty concerned by German submarines operating from Belgian ports. Lloyd George had little option other than to agree to Haig’s plans.⁵² Debate still rages about Haig’s precise strategic intentions and the conduct of the Third Battle of Ypres. However, it is clear that he intended to drive the Germans from the Ypres salient by pushing over the Passchendaele Ridge and on to the main railway junction at Roulers, forcing the enemy to evacuate the Belgian coast and, potentially, opening the way to Brussels.⁵³ Before any of this could be realised a vital preliminary operation was required, the capture of the high ground stretching south of the Ypres–Menin road, the Messines Ridge. The task of taking the ridge fell to Sir Herbert Plumer and his Second Army. Plumer was well known for his methodical manner, and the hallmark of Second Army was its attention to detail and co-ordination of every aspect of a plan. Plumer and his team at Second Army HQ devised an imaginative scheme for the assault on the Messines Ridge. A devastating artillery barrage and the detonation of a series of huge mines were scheduled to preface and cover the attack. The infantry was to suppress any remaining Germans and advance in a series of leapfrogs. Although it might appear that the infantry had been reduced to the mere occupiers of already won ground, Plumer and his staff had other ideas. Training and preparation was as meticulous for the infantry as it was for the gunners, miners, and engineers.⁵⁴ At the 17 IB Headquarters, Brigadier-General P. V. P. Stone collated a mass of advice on tactical matters: how to protect flanks, the best way to control rifle fire, how to organise counter-attacks, the necessity of good maps, the need to keep in close touch with the barrage, consolidation methods, and the organisation of forward patrols. All of it was filtered down to the battalions including the 8th Buffs.⁵⁵ In turn, the 8th Buffs drew up detailed weekly training programmes and submitted them to the brigade staff for approval. Studd monitored these schedules, and he made a personal inspection of all companies before providing a written appreciation of his conclusions, which he circulated to all company commanders.⁵⁶ At the start of June rehearsals commenced over exact replica trenches, even though the 8th Buffs was scheduled to play a relatively minor supporting role on the day. At 3.10 a.m. on 7 June, a series of ‘terrific reports’ woke the whole battalion: it was the opening of the offensive. By 11.30 a.m. the battalion was in the old front line and remained there until 3.10 p.m. at which point it was ordered up to its final position, the occupation of the Dammstrasse, the remnant of a Roman road riddled with strong points which had been captured by the 41 Division earlier in the day. No casualties were suffered by the Buffs during these manoeuvres, ‘the enemy by this time were not in a position to fight’.⁵⁷ The BEF had scored a great success. By the end of the day all objectives had fallen to the BEF with the exception of Spoilbank in the north and 1,000 yards of the Oosttaverne Line in the south. A three-to-one artillery superiority coupled with the mines gave the BEF a crushing advantage, and, significantly, by the end of the day all gains were held as

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Map 17. Ypres, Spoilbank, 14 June 1917, 8th Buffs.

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the German counter-attacks were broken up by a combination of artillery and infantry fire. The Buffs were left free to consolidate and re-wire throughout the night, as the counter-battery work successfully held off any attempted enemy interventions.⁵⁸ Bite and hold had succeeded brilliantly revealing that the successes of 9 April were no fluke. The BEF could take and hold limited objectives.⁵⁹ Over the next week Plumer sought to tidy-up the line by pinching out the remaining points of resistance. On 14 June, the 8th Buffs renewed the assault on the Spoilbank, a large embankment built out of debris from local canal and railway excavations. The bank’s strongly entrenched German garrison had put up a fierce defence on 7 June, and beat off firmly all assaults by the 47 Division. Studd opted for a two-company assault on a four-platoon attack frontage with all waves in no man’s land before the commencement of the bombardment. This formation therefore complied with the advice contained in SS135, Instructions for the Training of Divisions for Offensive Action, with its emphasis on speed and mobility. It was a wise choice, for the German counter-barrage commenced six minutes after the attack and fell on the deserted assembly positions. A company’s assault on the northern end of the bank met little resistance while advancing across no man’s land, but a tough fight broke out at the bank itself. Captain Eric Foster Hall was hit early, and soon after every officer in the company was a casualty. Fortunately for the battalion, Second Lieutenant F. D. Wilkinson managed to stay with the men despite his wounds and took control of the situation along with two senior NCOs. Sergeants Shute and Pell organised the clearance of dugouts, and Pell was later left in command of the entire Buffs’ front when Wilkinson retired to get his wound dressed. Meanwhile, two privates showed great initiative by rushing a machine gun position, putting it out of action. Wilkinson then managed to get his men onto the objective and began consolidation. The attack on the southern section led by C company was also sharply contested and succeeded only after hard fighting, while D company assisted the attack by working round the flank. The whole operation was covered by B company in no man’s land which used its Lewis gun sections to great effect. A neat little victory had been achieved but, as ever, the cost was not cheap particularly in terms of officers, as 10 including the CO, Lieutenant-Colonel Studd, as well as 107 OR became casualties.⁶⁰ Having won the prize of the Messines ridge which then secured the right flank of Haig’s projected thrusts, the operational tempo fell away. In reality there was very little chance of following up the Messines attack rapidly due to the strain on the BEF’s logistical system. Rather than attempt to follow-up on the victory immediately, the BEF paused while Haig took responsibility away from Plumer and presented it to Gough. Convinced that Plumer was too cautious to pursue the Germans with the required vigour, Haig wanted the main drive masterminded by one of his chief thrusters, Gough. As was noted in the previous chapter, Gough may well have had an aggressive nature, but his confident disregard of problems was often ill advised, and unredeemed by a complimentary grasp on fine details. A further problem arose out of Gough’s instructions. Haig confused Gough by his

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lack of clarity. At one and the same time Haig appeared to order both a breakthrough and a limited objectives battle. A combination of opaque instructions and an aggressive, but occasionally sloppy, Army Commander did not auger well for the forthcoming battle. Gough certainly seemed to work on the assumption that a breakthrough was required, and his plans lived up to his reputation. He set grand objectives—a 6,000-yard advance on the first day smashing through and beyond the German third position. The Third Battle of Ypres opened on 31 July with an assault on the Gheluvelt plateau and the ground stretching northwards across the Pilckem Ridge towards Langemarck. Straddling the Ypres–Menin Road, II Corps had the most difficult task of the day for its objectives included a host of shattered woods and copses. The defenders hidden in the crazy tangle of smashed trees and undergrowth were very difficult to detect from the air and consequently equally difficult to destroy by accurate and sustained artillery fire. Some compensation was made by setting the Corps shallower objectives, but the task sheet remained formidable. Further north, the three other Corps were set a variety of objectives with the general intention of making a deep bite into the German line. Some five or six defensive systems confronted the BEF at Ypres. The German defences had evolved into something far more elastic than a year earlier and reflected both a revision of German thinking, and a reaction to the geographical problems posed by the marshy Flanders ground. Deep and continuous trenchlines were abandoned in favour of a more flexible system. The frontline was remodelled into a series of outposts; in turn these outposts were covered by a system of interlocking pillboxes and forts; further back still were more ‘traditional’ trenches. Attacking such a complex array of defences required skill and close co-operation between all branches of the BEF, and demanded that the infantry considered the question of semi-open warfare intently. Poor weather increased the difficulties, as it hampered efficient artillery observation and assisted in the process of transforming the ground into porridge. By the end of the first day many of the essential characteristics of the battle had been established. In some places, where the artillery had done its job correctly, the infantry used their weapons and skills to suppress the German defenders and capture ground. However, in many places gains were exceptionally modest, at least by the grand standards set by Gough, and the cost in casualties was high, particularly on II Corps front. Military historians have advanced two slightly differing interpretations of 31 July. According to John Lee too much emphasis has been placed on the day’s failures which has clouded the very real achievements. On the other hand, Robin Prior and Trevor Wilson read the day as an awful portent. While agreeing that some solid tactical successes had indeed been achieved, they stress that Haig should have realised that his grand strategic objectives were unlikely to be fulfilled on the evidence of the first day’s fighting.⁶¹ As the rain began to lash down in freak amounts, Gough revealed that he had learnt nothing by his experiences on the Somme. Attacks were hurried on with inadequate preparation and artillery cover, and August turned into a month of

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misery for the BEF. The sodden battlefield minimised the support of the artillery, as even 106 Fuses buried themselves into the soft ground before detonating. As hundreds of thousands of shells smashed into the marsh, they merely served to crater and liquefy it still further. Although both the 18 and 24 Divisions played important roles in the August fighting, only the 8th Buffs was committed to battle, and that was a fairly minor supporting operation against a German strong point, Lower Star Post, a first day objective still resisting in the remains of Shrewsbury Forest.⁶² The 8th Buffs’ assault was part of a renewed II Corps attempt on the Gheluvelt plateau. In the event, the Buffs committed little more than a raiding party, as forty-seven OR under Second Lieutenant Rowles were assembled at 3.45 a.m. on 10 August. Poor counter-battery work meant even this small party was shelled, and poor co-ordination left one British battery firing ninety seconds after the barrage was supposed to lift that inflicted twelve casualties on the attackers. Scattered by friendly fire, the attackers then found that the confusion had given the German defenders of Lower Star Post the chance to quit the pillbox and man their machine gun positions. Rowles and most of his NCOs were hit almost immediately, leaving only one NCO to lead the assault. He ordered the attackers forward under the cover of his Lewis gun, but this soon jammed and the Germans drove them off with grenades. Disorganised and badly cut-up the party fell back having suffered five killed, twenty-three wounded and three missing. The battalion war diary concluded ruefully: ‘The party showed great courage and determination and this failure was due in no way to them.’⁶³ The battalion then spent the rest of August in the salient holding the frontline under almost continual shelling.⁶⁴ Frustrated by the lack of progress, Haig finally lost patience with Gough at the end of August and transferred responsibility back to Plumer. Plumer immediately demanded a pause in which to prepare for his series of methodical, step-by-step operations with the eventual intention of bringing the Passchendaele Ridge, under British control. Praised by many for his success on 20 September at the Battle of the Menin Road, Prior and Wilson have pointed out that Plumer’s victory sustained more casualties and took less ground than the first day of Gough’s Battle of Pilckem Ridge, despite the fact that he had more guns and good weather for observation. They believe that Plumer has been praised and Gough damned because of the pre-battle expectations and claims of both men. Gough promised so much that anything short of breakthrough was always going to look a failure: he took more ground than Plumer but not his final targets. Plumer on the other hand had taken the Gheluvelt Plateau, which Gough singularly and miserably failed to do in August, and never claimed once that he was going to do anything other than bite and hold a manageable piece of the German line.⁶⁵ This success was followed up with the capture of Polygon Wood, a major obstacle in the way of an assault on the Broodseinde Ridge. Once again, Prior and Wilson are circumspect in their praise for although admitting that it was another victory, they also point out that Plumer’s advances were so shallow that no German artillery was ever endangered, and thus British counter-battery work was in no way

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advanced.⁶⁶ Another costly success was achieved in early October as Plumer masterminded the fall of the Broodseinde Ridge.⁶⁷ According to many military historians, the battle was approaching the point where it could be justified no longer. The appalling ground, the difficulty of moving men, munitions, food, and guns forward and casualties back, the resistance of the Germans and the extreme improbability of causing a major rupture in the German line all militated against further operations.⁶⁸ However, the very success of Broodseinde appeared to enthuse both Haig and many of his subordinates, including the usually cautious Plumer. Haig was now convinced that one or two more large blows would achieve great results—Roulers and Thourout came back into the equation.⁶⁹ Poelcapelle was therefore identified as the next objective standing between the BEF and the complete capture of the Passchendaele Ridge, the last obstacle before the grand breakout. An ill-supported attack was launched on 9 October which achieved nothing, and yet a renewed assault was immediately scheduled. The 18 Division was brought back into the battle for this action with the objective of providing a defensive flank north of the Lekkerboterbeek for Second Army’s main thrust towards Passchendaele.⁷⁰ Assigned to the XVIII Corps, the division found itself under its old commander, Maxse, which was a great boost to all, according to the 18 Division’s historian.⁷¹ The 18 Division had paid a great deal of attention to German tactics during the course of the battle and was determined to react to the latest developments. At the start of the battle the German defence revolved around a thinly held forward line, with troops garrisoned safely in the rear and then fed into strong counter-attacks while the British were still trying to reorganise on their recently won positions. However, the success of the Battle of the Menin Road and Polygon Wood in September in which the British deliberately made relatively shallow advances, consolidated quickly and almost invited the Germans to counter-attack, had badly mauled German counter-attacking units.⁷² The Germans then reverted to the 1916 strategy of counter-attacking units held behind a more thickly held front line with machine guns pushed well forward. At Broodseinde, this approach failed too and German counter-attacking units once again met heavy resistance from British defensive barrage fire.⁷³ After this British success the Germans changed their defensive tactics yet again. This time the main line was covered by thinly held outer posts with machine gunners in shell holes. The forward defenders were ordered to retreat only gradually on the pillbox line, buying time for the organisation of a counter-attack. The men garrisoning the pillboxes were instructed to remain in the safety of their shelters until the attackers were well in sight, at which point they were to man the slit trenches and commence firing. This was only partially effective for when British troops hugged an effective creeper, the Germans rarely had time to quit the pillbox and establish themselves.⁷⁴ Brigadier-General Price of the 55 IB drew up a report in August 1917 that identified many characteristics of the recent fighting and suggested solutions to the tactical problems. Price referred to four distinct defensive zones including the

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important third zone of checkerboard strong points and consolidated shell holes. Patrols were made responsible for identifying the first zone and aircraft for spotting the second. He suggested that the first zone of consolidated shell holes needed neutralising before attacks by rigorous patrolling. The position of this first line would also act as a guide to the second line, which was close behind and consisted of wired strong points, irregular in shape. He identified the third zone as the hardest to detect. Speculating intelligently, Price deduced that it would need to be a point where the enemy could gather troops for the counter-attack. As such, the intelligence branch should be able to identify likely locations, which then had to ‘be systematically treated by our heavies’. As the enemy held the first two zones thinly, Price asked ‘is it therefore necessary to attack these two zones in the orthodox attack formation?’ He suggested that Lewis gun teams crawl out under the barrage and take up position near the second line; if the lines had not been identified the teams were to advance some 600–800 yards and halt. They would then engage the enemy and wait for moppers to follow. ‘The barrage should be as deep as possible with 60-pounders firing shrapnel from a flank and sweeping the ground some distance in rear of the rolling barrage.’ He stated that the main difficulty lay in getting the assault launched efficiently and without mixing the men. ‘The guns have to be relied upon to a very great extent to remove most of the difficulties confronting the advanced line of troops.’ He then suggested that having attacked and taken the first two zones, the men should not be expected to advance any further. Thorough consolidation and reorganisation were then carried out allowing for a follow-up attack the next day. He remarked that continually to push on weakened the men and left them vulnerable to counter-attack. Having paused and consolidated, the main zone could then be patrolled and reconnoitred for the next attack.⁷⁵ Price had come up with his own definition of a perfect bite and hold operation, something the BEF was more than capable of doing efficiently by this stage when given the correct conditions. He also highlighted the essential logic behind a battle of attrition: ‘The main object is not to gain ground but to kill Bosches.’ As noted in the previous chapter, Bidwell and Graham have noted how many times this pre-requisite was ignored by the High Command during 1916 and 1917, diluting one of the BEF’s main tactical and strategic strengths.⁷⁶ To create the conditions for maximum impact, Price did not reject all previous doctrine so much as revisit it. Once again, pre-war fire and movement theories were revised, as Price envisaged troops in flexible formations gradually gaining superiority: It does not appear advisable to put waves of men against isolated parties of the enemy with machine guns. The process is slow but sure and the danger of losing ground is decreased. Our real main assault could be made when we have reached that point where we are within easy striking distance of his trenches and with full knowledge of the strength they are in, and if the wire is properly cut we could probably go through his entire system.⁷⁷

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His final conclusion envisaged a new platoon structure designed to provide a punch capable of suppressing pillboxes covered by disciplined overhead and flanking fire: Left edge XX A XX XX XX OO OO

A

Right edge LL A LL LL LL OO OO

1st line 2nd line 3rd line

G Moppers 4th line 15 yards between each line 40 yards back the Lewis gun line 100 yards back the fourth platoon in artillery formation A further 100 yards back another line of moppers and two machine guns Attack formation should be on a three-platoon frontage XX ⫽ rifle-grenadiers A ⫽ section commander LL ⫽ riflemen OO ⫽ bombers G ⫽ platoon commander and HQ⁷⁸

This formation was a distinctive variant on those laid out in SS143 gathering riflebombers into a tight fist covered by riflemen and Lewis guns. Presumably the riflebombers were supposed to force the defenders from their strong points at which point the bombers would clear them from their trenches. Price’s ideas appear to have been used in divisional training in September along with a great emphasis on leapfrogging.⁷⁹ At battalion level Ransome devised two parallel training schemes for the 7th Buffs which he ran throughout September. All experienced men attended one programme, while the other took care of untrained drafts. Although this was not the best way to instil battalion cohesion and esprit de corps, it did free the scheme from moving at convoy speed. Much emphasis was placed on marksmanship, and the new attack formations were both practised and discussed regularly. The period culminated in a full brigade rehearsal in which units leap-frogged through each other.⁸⁰ Professionalism and rigour had once again infused every aspect of 18 Division’s preparations. By contrast, the immediate preliminaries to the attack did not bode well. The battalion was ordered to relieve the 9th W. Yorks and 8th Duke of Wellington’s at very short notice forcing it to pack in a hurry and bundle forward on the night of 10/11 October. Having received very short notice, there was no time for a reconnaissance, leaving the battalion with little idea of the ground. In addition, the line in this sector consisted of a string of consolidated shell holes and so was very hard to establish. Three relays of guides had to be used; some found it impossible to find their way and ‘some disappeared altogether’. On arrival, the officer in charge of the advanced posts could not be found; despite this,

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the battalion managed to complete the relief and the line of posts from Gloster House to Poelcapelle church was taken over. The 11 October proved relatively quiet, but movement to and from the old front line was difficult as the ground was in full view of the enemy. Ransome worked on his plans during the morning and presented them at a conference of company commanders. The long-serving Captain Hayfield then completed the perilous task of laying out the assembly position discs and tapes in broad daylight. By the evening Ransome had received more information on the enemy’s positions which he had to communicate verbally as his company HQs were in shell holes and no lights for reading written reports could be exposed. Notwithstanding these difficulties, the battalion managed to prepare; Ransome wrote in his post-action report: The difficulties presenting themselves to company commanders in imparting all this information to their subordinates are obvious, and I consider that the fact that platoons and sections were correctly formed opposite their objectives one hour before zero reflects very great credit upon all concerned. I have since questioned various surviving NCOs and men and have not found a single case in which they were in doubt as to their objectives.⁸¹

By 4 a.m. on 12 October all companies were in position. The barrage opened at 5.25 a.m., but Captain Nicholson (C company) stated that the barrage was thirty seconds late on his front and thin, and as his men advanced the barrage thickened right on top of his leading troops. (‘I have suggested to him that this was the enemy barrage, but he is positive that they were our shells’.) On D company front, the barrage came down correctly, but within two minutes the Germans were replying on the tapeline. Counter-battery bombardment had clearly failed again, and, to compound matters, the barrage bounced off far too quickly for troops dragging themselves through the mire. As C and D companies’ lines began to wilt under machine gun and artillery fire, Ransome committed A and B companies. Within a short time the support waves were also in trouble, despite the skills deployed by the infantry: ‘Efforts to gain ground by fire and movement were attempted but the heavy condition of the ground especially near the junction of the companies coupled with the machine gun fire brought the attack to a standstill.’ Men of C company did manage successfully to rush one enemy post capturing a machine gun in the process, ‘which was used with effect on the enemy’. The advance ground to a halt leaving the men with little option but to dig-in where they were in an effort to hold their gains.⁸² Ransome attributed the failure to five reasons: the thinness of the barrage and its falling short onto his own men; the speed with which the barrage advanced; the large number of enemy machine guns placed well forward able to pour in flanking fire; the heavy losses among leaders: the two left companies lost all officers and NCOs killed or wounded; finally, the terrible condition of the ground that quickly clogged rifles and Lewis guns. ‘In fact the conditions of weather and ground had more to do with the failure than anything else.’⁸³ The 7th Buffs suffered 10 officer casualties and 375 OR.⁸⁴

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ent

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Map 18. Poelcapelle, 12 October 1917, 7th Buffs.

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Poelcapelle

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Paddy Griffith has suggested that the Third Battle of Ypres was a tactical success for the British, ‘ . . . the BEF had developed a workable system of offensive tactics against which the Germans ultimately had no answer.’⁸⁵ Even in this disaster at Poelcapelle elements that support the Griffith thesis can be detected and highlighted. Like the rest of the 18 Division, the 7th Buffs prepared thoroughly and executed the attack with some skill—despite the problems a machine gun was successfully captured and used against the enemy. However, as on 3 May 1917 and in the later stages of the Somme, the BEF proved appallingly capable of sustaining self-inflicted wounds. Once again well-trained troops versed in the latest methods of warfare were wasted in an assault with little chance of success. Haig’s strategic vision bore no relationship to what was possible on the ground. The battle staggered on for another month as Haig secured at least one of his major objectives, the Passchendaele Ridge, before the descent of mid-winter. The BEF was certainly on a learning curve and had gathered an impressive list of skills and victories by November 1917, but there was still some way to go. The High Command of the BEF had to find ways of converting the often indistinct strategic visions of Haig into workable operations. In particular this meant finding a solution to the difficulty of transforming break-ins into sustainable, rolling offensives capable of breaking through the German defences. Many of these issues were thrown up in the last great battle of 1917, Cambrai. Thanks to the employment of tanks en masse for the first time in history, the Battle of Cambrai has a glamorous aura surrounding it. Yet Cambrai is surprisingly under-explored and there are few modern, comprehensive surveys of the battle. Brigadier-General Hugh Elles of the Tanks Corps was the originator of the Cambrai plan. Unlike the Ypres salient, the ground around Cambrai lent itself to tanks, and Elles believed it was the perfect place to launch a massive tank raid designed to shock and scare the Germans. Slowly these plans were increased in scale and complexity, and Haig, no doubt anxious to place a success in front of the War Cabinet after the scanty returns of Third Ypres, urged forward General Byng of Third Army. The final plan included the capture of the important railway junction of Cambrai, and called for the Hindenburg Line to be not just dented but left behind. Now best remembered for the use of 476 tanks, including 98 support tanks loaded with equipment, Cambrai, as Gary Sheffield and others have pointed out, was actually more important for the artillery tactics deployed. The British decided to use silent registration and predicted bombardment. This meant that the enemy would have no idea that an assault was about to take place until the moment the bombardment opened and the troops arrived in their trenches. As such it marked a major shift away from the Somme and even Arras and Third Ypres. The precepts of SS135 Instructions for the Training of Divisions for Offensive Action were about to be realised in spirit and deed.⁸⁶ Two Buffs battalions were scheduled to take part in the operation, the 1st and 6th. The preparations of the two units make it clear that the assault marked a new

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departure; but it was not one that discarded the lessons already learnt, for it was far more like a dramatically telescoped evolutionary phase. The 1st Buffs had not been in a major action since the Battle of Morval in September 1916. However, it had hardly been idle: in April the battalion had supported operations at Arras and Vimy by following up on a German retreat and realignment in the Loos district which turned into a nasty minor action for the 6 Division, and had carried out two raids during the spring and summer.⁸⁷ At the start of August the battalion, along with the entire division, began a fresh training schedule which incorporated many of the lessons experienced during recent operations. Heavy emphasis was placed on marksmanship and a divisional rifle competition was instituted. Pride must have been felt in the Buffs when the battalion won the trophy, and it certainly reflected a fair standard of musketry in the whole unit for the competition demanded that each man fire thirty rounds at 30 yards over three days and then a four-day course in which each man shot sixty rounds at a minimum of fifteen rounds per minute at a 300 yard target. In addition, the brigade practised trench attacks, semi-open warfare, open warfare (with particularly attention to Artillery Formation), the establishment of outposts, and specialist classes for NCOs and junior officers were held.⁸⁸ In October, preparations moved up a gear and revealed high expectations, for much emphasis was placed on semi-open and open warfare. The troops practised skirmishing in the open in both platoons and sections, the envelopment of strong points by a combination of riflemen, rifle-bombers, and Lewis gunners, the clearing of woods, company attacks with exposed flanks, advanced guard work in wooded country, taking directions from the sun or compass bearings, and the rapid movement and deployment of Vickers guns.⁸⁹ All of these exercises reveal a High Command confident of dramatic results. Most significantly, both battalions commenced detailed exercises with tanks. Matters had changed considerably since September 1916 when the 1st Buffs was scheduled to attack with tanks against the Quadrilateral. On that occasion only the Brigadier knew these weapons were going to be deployed and not one infantryman was given any sort of additional training. Throughout early November the 1st and 6th Buffs trained with tanks informed by the issue of new training instructions. Troops following tanks were organised into two different types of platoon, ‘stops’ and clearing parties. These platoons were instructed to advance some 50 yards behind the tank in extended single file or extended double column. At the wire, the stop platoon was to go to ground and commence firing on the enemy trench; all troops had to keep close to the ground for fear of the whiplash caused by tanks snapping taut barbed wire. The lead tank pealed away to keep the trench under broadside fire while the support tanks broke through fully and attempted to straddle trenches and advance; as these support tanks moved through, the clearing parties were to charge into the trench covered by the stop platoons and lead tanks.⁹⁰ Further instructions were issued to flesh-out these principles. Significantly, these instructions were titled, ‘Tank and Infantry

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Operations without methodical Artillery preparation’; therefore they provided a hint that something new was about to be tried (emphasis added). The notes stated: All ranks must be brought to realise that the form of attack advocated in the training note requires tactics and training somewhat different from that which infantry have been asked to carry out during the last three years. The principles laid down in the training note and movements consequent upon their application approximate more closely to those used in field warfare than to the movements usually carried out in trench to trench attack. This necessitates: Quick initiative amongst the leaders, especially among section commanders; quick movement of the section.⁹¹

Sophisticated infiltration and fire and movement techniques were combined in these notes, for the troops were told not to attack the whole length of a position, but achieve rapid entry into the enemy position by a few routes. It was admitted that this might mean heading for only a few gaps in the wire and speed was therefore of the essence. Riflemen and Lewis gunners in the stop platoons were instructed to find positions as quickly as possible by leap-frogging forward covering each other as they went. As soon as a tank was through the wire and clearing parties were at work, Lewis gun teams were ordered to establish posts on the parados providing covering fire for the next move forward.⁹² The routines were carried out with a great deal of rigour: Lieutenant W. R. Smith’s (6th Buffs) diary reveals days of ‘vigorous training in the new formation with tanks’.⁹³ All of these exercises were carried out in the strictest secrecy with time and exact locations carefully concealed. Brumwell and Scott’s history of the 12 Division points out that most men thought they were training exercises for a spring offensive.⁹⁴ The units were then moved up to the line in equal secrecy and carefully concealed in heavily camouflaged billets before beginning the advance to the assembly points.⁹⁵ The 6 Division attacked between Villers Plouich and Beaucamps with Premy Chapel Ridge as its final objective, and the 1st Buffs was assigned to take part in the assault on the second and third objectives. As well as the planned devastating bombardment and tank assistance, the 6 Division also intended to cover its advance with a great deal of smoke and machine gun fire. Eight guns were allocated to each brigade to work on targets of opportunity, and thirty-six guns were held back to fire indirect barrages.⁹⁶ The 12 Division was ordered to capture the Bonavis Ridge with Le Quennet Farm and Lateau Wood as its final objectives; the 6th Buffs was detailed to advance from the first objective after a forty-eight minute pause with the objective of capturing the strong points at Pam Pam Farm.⁹⁷ Zero hour was 6.20 a.m. on 20 November and was marked by the eruption into life of 1,003 guns.⁹⁸ As the shells smashed down on both German positions and batteries, the tanks and infantry began their advance. On 1st Buffs front, the advance went exactly according to timetable, and Couillet Wood was cleared with the brigade sniping section, but without the assistance of tanks.⁹⁹ On the surface this may appear a minor achievement, but comparison with the experiences of the

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6 Division Final Objective Flesquières

Premy Premy Chapel

Hinden Suppo burg rt Line

Marcoing

German Line

Co

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lle

tW

oo d

Ribécourt

1 Buffs British Line 2nd Yorks and Lancs 6 Division Villers Plouich

Final Buffs Objective

8th Beds

Pam Pam Farm 20 Division

Lateau Wood 6th Buffs

6th La Buffs Vacquerie British Line

ge

Bo

is nav

12 Division Gonnelieu

Rid

German Line

Bonavis German Farm Line

Map 19. Cambrai, 20 November 1917, 1st and 6th Buffs.

8th Buffs at Lower Star Post, Shrewbury Forest in August reveals the power of the BEF when allowed an adequate preparation period. As the 6 Division bounced through the German lines, the need for cavalry became obvious. A major hole had been punched into open country, and it was clear that a mobile arm could easily capture the guns holding up the 51 Division on the division’s left. As the 6 Division’s post-war history mournfully records, however, the cavalry ‘reported [at 3.15 p.m.] that they could not advance owing to snipers in Ribécourt’, despite the fact that the 18 IB had passed safely through it at 11.30 a.m.¹⁰⁰ The 1st Buffs suffered remarkably few casualties: eight OR were killed and thirty-eight wounded. Obviously on the alert, the next day Captain V. N. Moss established that Noyelles, a village 2,500 yards from Premy Chapel, was lightly held and captured the village with his company and a tank liberating twenty French civilians in the process.¹⁰¹

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The 6th Buffs had an equally impressive day, but met stronger opposition than the 1st Buffs: for unexplained reasons, Pam Pam Farm escaped full bombardment.¹⁰² The right flank proved most troublesome where machine gun fire held up the advance, but the left flank began working around and into the position clearing it by midday with the assistance of tanks. Like the men of the 6 Division, the 12 also had the excitement of liberating French civilians: A thrilling episode when standing on the far-famed Hindenburg Line, not to be easily forgotten, was the sight of French civilians, who had been released from Masnières after three years’ captivity with the Germans, coming down the Cambrai road singing the ‘Marseillaise’. To the left, the cavalry were moving forward to pass through the gap, and down in the trenches were our men, squatting round fires, smoking German cigars and discussing whether Aston Villa or Tottenham Hotspur would win the next Cup Final.¹⁰³

Casualties were higher among the 6th Buffs, (5 officers and 105 OR), but, perhaps reflecting the intelligent and experienced caution of skilled troops, all were wound cases.¹⁰⁴ Post-action reports analysed the success picking out the key elements. Brigadier-General Incledon-Webber of the 37 IB highlighted the importance of the training, especially the joint exercises with tanks. On the day, the use of tooland equipment-carrying tanks had allowed his men to advance relatively unencumbered. He also believed the attention given to fire control and discipline had been rewarded. Of equal importance was the ‘lavish issue of sketch maps to all officers and NCOs . . . and the explanation to all ranks of the part each was to play in the operation and the general scheme, [which] resulted in advantage being taken of tactical features not represented on the maps available and the immediate exploitation of the success obtained.’¹⁰⁵ This seemingly small development was in fact a major leap forward, for in August 1915 officers of the 1st Buffs had not been allowed to take anything other than the most rudimentary maps into the front line; on 7 October 1916 for the attack at Gueudecourt 6th Buffs company commanders only had been issued with maps; six months later at Arras platoon commanders were included in the distribution.¹⁰⁶ At Cambrai every commander of a tactical unit was furnished with the information necessary to complete the job. The BEF’s operational efficiency and sophistication had leapt forward. The art of bite and hold now appeared to have moved into a new phase—breakthrough had been achieved. However, over the next week the BEF revealed it had not yet mastered all the arts of war. The problems stemmed from the failure of the 51 Division to advance beyond the tough defences of Flesquières, which included an anti-tank battery. This village blocked the path to Bourlon Wood, the vital objective due to its dominating position above the main road to Cambrai and the Canal du Nord crossings. In the immediate flush of success elsewhere the way for the cavalry appeared to have opened; it was the only weapon capable of exploiting the victory, but communication difficulties meant it appeared late and carried out only a few

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operations. Along with the need to gain Bourlon, the question of whether mobility could be maintained became most significant, for the cavalry found it increasingly hard to keep going, and the tanks were also greatly reduced, dropping down to 297 at the end of the first day, most having broken down.¹⁰⁷ Bourlon Wood then became the springboard for a surprise German counterattack using the tactics and techniques they would employ on a large scale in March 1918: a short, surprise bombardment coupled with the use of infiltrating stormtroops supported by low-flying aircraft. As the British were driven back, General Byng, Commander of Third Army, and many generals blamed indiscipline and the poor defensive skills of British troops. While this has an element of truth, it also ignores the failure of Third Army intelligence to spot and interpret German intentions. When the battle ended on 6 December, the situation was almost exactly as it stood on 19 November.¹⁰⁸ The 6th Buffs was thrown back into action on 30 November as part of a concerted attempt to bolster the line and beat off the German counter-attack. Pam Pam Farm, having fallen to the Germans earlier in the day, was retaken by the Buffs and held for three hours while the units on its flanks caved in. Forced to abandon the position, the battalion fell back to the Hindenburg Support Line, which it held until relieved on 1 December. Casualties rocketed upwards during these sharp, confused actions: 14 officers and 317 OR. Among the officers was the long-serving Major C. F. Cattley, a former 1st Buffs who had arrived on the Western Front in May 1915.¹⁰⁹ When the brigade was reassembled in billets, so few men could be gathered that a composite battalion was formed under the command of the 6th Buffs’ commanding officer, Major A. S. Smeltzer.¹¹⁰ An equally sorry situation unfolded on the 6 Division front. Rushed up to re-take Gouzeaucourt, the division found the Guards already there, and so took up a position alongside them astride the Gouzeaucourt–Villers-Plouich road with the intention of taking Cemetery Ridge between Gonnelieu and La Vacquerie. Brigadier-General Walker planned to use the bright moon to assist in a surprise night attack scheduled to commence at 1 a.m. on 2 December. However, at the last moment he received a request to assist the neighbouring 20 Division in its attack. Walker reluctantly agreed even though he knew that his men had little idea of the ground. Two companies of the 1st Buffs accompanied the 2nd York and Lancs and 1st KSLI into the attack, but direction was very soon lost and the attack ground to a halt.¹¹¹ Accurate casualty figures for the 1st Buffs do not appear to have survived, but Soldiers Died confirms seventeen fatalities between 30 November and 3 December. Officer numbers are equally uncertain, although two significant losses can be confirmed. First was the death of Major B. L. Strauss on 1 December; he had been with the battalion since October 1915 and had taken over command only four days earlier on Lieutenant-Colonel Green’s promotion to Brigadier-General. (Lieutenant-Colonel R. E. Power, a Regular Buffs officer and former commander of the 2nd Buffs, and subsequently the 2/4th King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry, succeeded Strauss.) Secondly, Captain A. F. Worster died

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of wounds on 23 November; another long-serving officer, he had joined the battalion a year earlier, and was a man both Strauss and Green rated highly.¹¹² Cambrai therefore closed on a disappointing and dispiriting note for the Buffs. During the course of 1917 the Buffs proved that the BEF was an awesome instrument. Building on the experiences of 1916 the BEF revealed that it was capable of dramatic successes. The learning curve was also quite dramatic: the lessons of the Somme were digested and incorporated within an extremely short period; a mere four months elapsed between the end of the Somme battle and the tremendous successes of 9 April 1917. The power of the artillery combined with the tactical acumen of the infantry created an excellent team. However, as the experiences of the Buffs show, this team required certain conditions to be truly effective. First, and most important, was time. When it was given time to prepare the logistical infrastructure, register the artillery (by whatever means), and train the infantry, the BEF scored truly dramatic results. Second, and intimately connected with this point, was the provision of clear strategic objectives. For all the notoriety of the Calais conference, the curbing of Haig’s ambitions did at least mean that Arras commenced with definite and limited objectives. When given free rein in the summer, Haig revealed his famous incoherence leaving Gough as uncertain of his tasks as Rawlinson a year earlier. These confusions often translated themselves into disastrous scenarios on the battlefield, which in turn compounded the weaknesses in the BEF’s systems. As the experiences of the Buffs reveal fully, the BEF found the switch from limited, setpiece battles to rolling operations extremely difficult to manage. Two distinct problems were exposed: the novelty of semi-open, and then at Cambrai, open warfare, which required new tactical skills particularly from the infantry, and the inability to maintain artillery and logistical superiority in an advance. Haig’s misunderstanding of these factors, often exacerbated by the demands of playing a full role in a coalition war effort, led to disastrous, improvised attacks that merely wasted valuable, trained troops, as the Buffs experienced in May and October 1917. By the end of 1917 at Cambrai the Buffs and the BEF revealed that breakthrough had become possible. But, the same battle also revealed the lack of an effective and widely disseminated defence doctrine within the BEF. Yet, due to developments in the wider war, the Germans were about to return to the offensive on the Western Front.

NOTES 1. For a discussion of these manoeuvres see John Terraine, The First World War, 1914–1918 (London: Macmillan, 1983 edn.), 133–6. 2. See Gary Sheffield, Forgotten Victory: The First World War Myths and Realities (London: Headline, 2001) 159–84. 3. See Shelford Bidwell and Dominick Graham, Fire-Power: British Army Weapons and Theories of War 1904–1945 (London: George Allen & Unwin, 1982), 98–9.

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4. See Paddy Griffith, Battle Tactics of the Western Front: The British Army’s Art of Attack 1916–1918 (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1994), 76–7. 5. For further discussion of these training manuals see Griffith, Battle Tactics, 76–9; John Lee, ‘Some Lessons of the Somme: The British Infantry in 1917’, in British Commission for Military History, ‘Look to Your Front’, Studies in the First World War (Staplehurst: Spellmount, 1999), 79–88. 6. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 19 Feb. 1917; WO 95/1606 16 IB WD, 19 Feb. 1917. 7. See WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, Feb. 1917; WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, Feb. 1917; WO 95/2207 8th Buffs WD, Feb. 1917. 8. NAM 2000-10-248 9 Platoon Roll Book, 7th Buffs, 28 Nov. 1916. 9. NAM 2000-10-247-1 9 Platoon Roll Book, 7th Buffs, no date but very probably Feb. 1917. 10. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, 12 Dec. 1916. 11. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, Strength Return, 13 Oct. 1916; 15 Dec. 1916; Strength Return, 29 March 1917. 12. WO 95/2207 8th Buffs WD, 31 Dec. 1916; 15 Jan., 11, 21 Feb. 1917. 13. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 9 Oct. 1916; 3, 5, 12, 13, 17, 19, 27 Jan.; 3, 20 Feb. 1917. 14. Cyril Falls, Military Operations France and Belgium, 1917, Vol. 1 (London: HMSO, 1940), 414. 15. WO 95/1858 37 IB WD, 3 April 1917 and Casualty Return, 9–13 April 1917; WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 28 April 1917. 16. WO 95/2207 8th Buffs WD, 21 Feb. 1917. 17. Ibid., 18 Oct. 1917. 18. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 26 May 1916, 26 Nov. 1917. 19. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 9 March 1916, 29 May 1917. 20. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, 9 Jan. 1916, 1 Sept. 1918. 21. WO 95/2207 8th Buffs WD, 5 Jan. 1917; NAM 2002-02-913 Lieutenant Eric Foster Hall MC Diary, 6, 10, 15 Jan. 1917. 22. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 10 Oct. 1917; WO 95/2047 55 IB WD, March 1918; WO 95/2207 8th Buffs WD, 28 June 1916 and then finally transferred to the 6th Buffs in Aug. 1918 after the 8 was disbanded. See WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 30 Aug. 1918. 23. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, 30 Nov., 1–7, 11–28 Dec. 1916; 24 Jan. 1917. 24. WO 95/2016 18 Division WD, 1–18 April 1917. 25. WO 95/2207 8th Buffs WD, 15 Jan., 9, 11, 14, 15 Feb. 1917. 26. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 21, 24 Feb. 1917. 27. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 1, 2 Jan., 17–28 Feb. 1917. 28. Ibid., March 1917. 29. Ibid., 31 March, 5 April 1917. 30. Major-General Sir Arthur B. Scott (ed.), P. Middleton Brumwell (compiler), The History of the 12th (Eastern) Division in the Great War, 1914–1918 (London: Nisbit & Co. Ltd., 1923), 97. 31. Sheffield, Forgotten Victory, 162. 32. Scott and Brumwell, 12th Division, 98. 33. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 8 April 1917; Scott and Brumwell, 12th Division, 98. 34. WO 95/1858 37 IB WD, Casualty Return, 9–13 April 1917.

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35. Ibid., ‘Account of Operations by 37th IB from April 9 to April 13 1917’, 16 April 1917. 36. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, April 1917. 37. Ibid., 22–5 Feb. 1917; G. H. F. Nichols, The 18th Division in the Great War (Edinburgh: William Blackwood & Sons, 1922) 155–6. 38. It was clearly noted by the 7th Buffs, as Private Smith’s diary for March 1917 records much practising at forming outposts to cover semi-entrenched positions. IWM 99/56/1 Diary of Private C. R. Smith, 6 March 1917. 39. For further details see Falls, Military Operations 1917, Vol. 1, 378–481. 40. Ibid., 428. 41. Ibid., 436, 440. 42. Ibid., 431–2. 43. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, 3–4 May 1917. 44. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 3–4 May 1917; WO 95/1858 37 IB WD, ‘Report on Operations carried out by the 37 IB on May 3 1917’, 8 May 1917. 45. WO 95/1858 37 IB WD, ‘Report on Operations carried out by the 37 IB on May 3 1917’, 8 May 1917. 46. Falls, Military Operations 1917, Vol. 1, 297, 543–4, 554–5. 47. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 3 May 1917; WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, 3 May 1917. 48. Sheffield, Forgotten Victory, 166. 49. WO 95/2047 7th Buffs WD, 5 June 1917. 50. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 2 June 1917. 51. For further discussion of the debate between the bomb and the rifle see Griffith, Battle Tactics, 68–74. Robin Prior and Trevor Wilson generally discount the value of rifle in an attack in their analysis of the Third Battle of Ypres believing that weapons combinations were the most important factor. However, they also concede that the Lee Enfield rifle ‘retained a role in repelling counter-attacks once an enemy position had been overrun, but it were difficult to employ during the actual advance on a defended position and anyway was presented with few targets’. Robin Prior and Trevor Wilson, Passchendaele, the Untold Story (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1996), 81. 52. For a more detailed discussion of the decisions leading up to the Third Battle of Ypres see John Turner, ‘Lloyd George, the War Cabinet, and High Politics’, in Peter H. Liddle (ed.), Passchendaele in Perspective: The Third Battle of Ypres (London and Barnsley: Leo Cooper, 1997), 14–30. 53. See Frank E. Vandiver, ‘Field Marshal Sir Douglas Haig and the Generals’, in Liddle (ed.), Passchendaele in Perspective, 30–44. 54. For a more detailed analysis of the battle see Ian Passingham, Pillars of Fire: The Battle of Messines Ridge, June 1917 (Thrupp, Gloucestershire: Alan Sutton, 1998). 55. WO 95/2204 17 IB WD, May 1917. 56. WO 95/2207 8th Buffs WD, 1, 4 May 1917. 57. Ibid., 7 June 1917; WO 95/2209 17 IB WD, 7 June 1917. 58. WO 95/2204 17 IB WD, 7 June 1917. 59. For a summary of the results of the battle see Passingham, Messines, 150–2. 60. WO 95/22049 8th Buffs WD, ‘Report on Operations 14–16 June 1917’, 17 June 1917. 61. John Lee, ‘The British Divisions at Third Ypres’, in Liddle (ed.), Passchendaele in Perspective, 215–26; Prior and Wilson, Passchendaele, 96.

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62. For the roles of the 18 and 24 Divisions see J. E. Edmonds, Military Operations France and Belgium, 1917, Vol. 2 (London: HMSO, 1948). 63. WO 95/2207 8th Buffs WD, 10 Aug. 1917. 64. Ibid., Aug. 1917. 65. Prior and Wilson, Passchendaele, 122–3. 66. Ibid., 131. 67. Ibid., 133–8. 68. See ibid., 138; Sheffield, Forgotten Victory, 178–9; Nigel Steel and Peter Hart, Passchendaele, the Sacrificial Ground (London: Cassell, 2000), 308; Griffith, Battle Tactics, 89. 69. Prior and Wilson, Passchendaele, 159–60. 70. Edmonds, Military Operations 1917 Vol. 2, 343–5. 71. Nichols, 18th Division, 235. 72. Edmonds, Military Operations 1917, Vol. 2, 293–5. 73. Ibid., 318. 74. Ibid., 348. 75. WO 95/2407 55 IB WD, Report on German defensive arrangements, 20 Aug. 1917. 76. See page 125. 77. WO 95/2407 55 IB WD, Report on German defensive arrangements, 20 Aug. 1917. 78. Ibid. 79. Ibid., Sept. 1917. 80. WO 95/2409 7th Buffs WD, Sept., 7 Oct. 1917. 81. WO 95/2409 7th Buffs WD, ‘Report on Operations near Poelcapelle, 10–17 Oct. 1917’, 18 Oct. 1917. 82. Ibid. 83. Ibid. As Nicol remarked in the 18 Division history, ‘no method on the 12th could conquer the mud.’ Nicol, 18th Division, 235. 84. WO 95/2409 7th Buffs WD, ‘Report on Operations near Poelcapelle, 10–17 Oct. 1917’, 18 Oct. 1917. 85. Paddy Griffith, ‘The Tactical Problem: Infantry, Artillery and the Salient’, in Liddle (ed.), Passchendaele in Perspective, 61–72. 86. Sheffield, Forgotten Victory, 181–2; W. Miles, Military Operations France and Belgium 1917, Vol. 3 (London: HMSO, 1948) 1–31. 87. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, April, 30 March, 24 June 1917; WO 95/1581 6 Division WD, April 1917. 88. WO 95/1606 16 IB WD, Aug. 1917. 89. Ibid., ‘Programme of Training 26–8 Oct. 1917’. 90. Ibid., ‘Normal Formation When Advancing Behind Tanks’, Nov. 1917. 91. Ibid., ‘Training Note—Tank and Infantry Operations without Methodical Artillery Preparation’, Third Army instructions issued 30 Oct. 1917. 92. Ibid.; see also Miles, Military Operations 1917, Vol. 3, Appendix 9A, 348–54. The version in the brigade WD appears to include additional material, as the version in Miles does not contain detailed advice on infantry tactics. 93. IWM Diary of Second Lieutenant W. R. Taylor, 6th Buffs, 11–15 Nov. 1917. 94. Bruwell and Scott, 12th Division, 132. 95. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 17–19 Nov. 1917; WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 16–19 Nov. 1917.

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96. WO 95/1606 16 IB WD, Operational Order 232, Nov. 1917; WO 95/1583 6 Division WD, Instruction on the Action of Machine Guns, Nov. 1917. 97. Scott and Brumwell, 12th Division, 135–7; Miles, Military Operations 1917, Vol. 3, 51–2. 98. Miles, Military Operations 1917, Vol. 3, 25. 99. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 20 Nov. 1917; WO 95/1606 16 IB WD, ‘Account of the part taken by the 16 IB in the action before Cambrai, Nov. 20–21 1917’. 100. Major-General T. O. Marden, A Short History of the Sixth Division, August 1914–March 1919 (London: Hugh Rees, 1920), 39. Marden’s version diverges considerably from the account contained in the official history, for it states that although the cavalry was held up by minor resistance in Ribécourt, it had advanced beyond the village by 2.15 p.m. and was at Premy Chapel by 3.15 p.m. At this point the 51 Division, IV and III Corps headquarters, expected the 18 IB to assist the 51 Division and the cavalry in an enveloping movement cutting off Flesquières from the rear. According to the official history account, the 51 Division and 18 IB failed to arrange this manoeuvre before nightfall. Miles, Military Operations 1917, Vol. 3, 80–4. 101. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 23 Nov. 1917. 102. Miles, Military Operations 1917, Vol. 3, 52. 103. Scott and Brumwell, 12th Division, 140. 104. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 20 Nov. 1917. 105. WO 95/1859 37 IB WD, ‘Report on Operations, 20–21 Nov. 1917’, 5 Dec. 1917. 106. See brigade and battalion war diaries for these dates. See also Andrew Whitmarsh, ‘The Development of Infantry Tactics in the British 12th (Eastern) Division, 1915–1918’, Stand To! The Journal of the Western Front Association, 48 (Jan. 1997), 28–32. Revealing that the BEF was determined to process every particle of information, Major-General Scott was later sent a thorough questionnaire by III Corps asking for his reactions to nearly every aspect of the battle. WO 95/1824 12 Division WD, Dec. 1917. 107. Sheffield, Forgotten Victory, 183. 108. Ibid. 109. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 30 Nov. 1917. 110. WO 95/1859 37 IB WD, 1 Dec. 1917. 111. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 2 Dec. 1917; Miles, Military Operations 1917, Vol. 3, 225–6; Marden, 6th Division, 41–2. 112. Soldiers and Officers Died in the Great War (Sussex: CD-Rom, Naval and Military Press, 1998); WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 23, 26 Nov., 1 Dec. 1917; NAM 2001-11-62 Papers relating to Second Lieutenant A. F. Worster.

7 Defending: January–April 1918 In the spring of 1918 the Buffs, in line with the rest of the BEF, made preparations for an impending German assault. The transformation to the strategic defensive represented a radical reversal from the offensive stance that had dominated the BEF since the spring of 1915, and was the result of a dramatic shift in the balance of power between the combatant nations. The key catalyst in this process was the final collapse of Russia after the October Revolution. Determined to release Russia from the agony of war, the new Bolshevik government immediately began negotiations for an armistice, thus freeing thousands of German troops from the Eastern Front. Sensing their last chance of complete victory, the Germans commenced a massive transfer of troops to the west, planning to use them in a decisive assault before the Americans arrived on the Western Front in force. On the eve of their spring offensive, the Germans had gathered 192 divisions to face 156 French and British.¹ Preparations for the German assault included the rigorous training of specially selected units. Known as ‘stormtroops’, these soldiers were instructed to by-pass enemy strong points and maintain a constant forward movement supported by their own weapons, including sub-machine guns, and field artillery where possible. Having achieved initial surprise, more orthodox formations would then follow on. In order to springboard these new stormtroop units into action, the Germans planned to smother British and French positions in a sudden deluge of gas and high explosive shells. In fact, the allies gained some forewarning of this alteration in German assault methods from the tactics used in the counterattack at Cambrai. By Christmas 1917, therefore, it was clear to the allied armies on the Western Front that the Germans would seek to capitalise on their shortterm advantage, which also coincided with a low-point in allied fortunes as the British and French were working hard to make good the losses and damage caused by large-scale indiscipline in French ranks and the great battles fought during the course of the year.² On the allied side the situation was exacerbated by an increasingly acrimonious relationship between Haig and the Prime Minister, David Lloyd George. Committed to victory and yet horrified by the cost of modern war between finely matched industrialised combatants, Lloyd George became obsessed with the idea of alternatives to the Western Front. He believed that a quick, and certainly cheaper, victory could be achieved by knocking away Germany’s so-called props

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with attacks in Italy, Palestine, Mesopotamia, and Salonika. This strategic vision rested on the misunderstanding that Germany was propped up by its allies: in fact the opposite was true. When the newly formed allied Supreme War Council sat in its first full meeting on 1 December 1917, Lloyd George deployed all of his political skills and charms to gain his own way. He used the sessions to expand upon his autumn intriguing and forced through an agreement on strategy for 1918 which committed the allies to the defensive on the Western Front. Having ensured economy of effort in this theatre, Lloyd George sought to shift the weight of the allies into new assaults on Turkey. Haig was totally unconvinced by Lloyd George’s arguments and maintained his conviction that the Western Front was the only theatre in which the main enemy could be challenged and decisively beaten.³ Determined to avoid such an outcome, Lloyd George manoeuvred to make life even more difficult for Haig. He engineered the downfall of several of Haig’s intimate colleagues and allies including the Chief of the Imperial General Staff, Sir William Robertson, a supporter of the primacy of the Western Front (although Haig–Robertson relations had deteriorated during the autumn of 1917).⁴ In addition, Lloyd George held back reinforcements in Britain in order to act as a further break on Haig’s ambitions.⁵ This compounded an already difficult situation for the BEF, for in the autumn it had been forced to accept two new and onerous tasks: first, to take responsibility for additional ground from the French, and second, to relinquish troops and artillery for the Italian front.⁶ On 1 January 1918, the BEF in France and Belgium was therefore some 70,000 men short of its establishment and responsible for more line than ever before, but stationed in Britain on that date were 38,225 officers and 607,403 trained men.⁷ Given the shortage of manpower on the Western Front and the demand to create a General Reserve, Haig was forced to make some tough decisions. The only way to maintain the viability of divisions was to disband battalions and redistribute the remaining troops. Divisions were therefore reduced from twelve battalions to nine in early February, each brigade losing a battalion.⁸ It was against this rather murky and unpromising background that the Buffs made their preparations for the expected German offensives. In order to provide a worthwhile assessment of the Buffs’ contribution to the BEF’s defensive battles of 1918 it is first necessary to investigate four interlocking issues: (1) the manpower situation within each Buffs battalion which in turn was the key determinant of its ability to construct defences and garrison them effectively (2) the defensive plans devised by or for the battalions, which was heavily influenced by (3) the BEF’s assessment of likely scenarios, and (4) the nature of training for a defensive battle. In terms of manpower the Buffs made qualified gains in February 1918 as the 8th Buffs was wound-up and its men were divided between the 1st, 6th, and 7th Buffs. This redistribution did, at least, ensure that Buffs officers and men stayed within the same regiment and possibly met up with familiar faces when they were transferred. Lieutenant Eric Foster Hall, who was transferred from the 8th to the

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1st on return from convalescence following wounds received at Third Ypres, provides some evidence that this indeed was the case. His diary for 8 February 1918 notes that nearly all his old company had joined him including former colleagues Lieutenants Hedley and Lilley.⁹ In total the 1st Buffs gained 5 officers and 250 OR, the 6th 5 officers and 200 OR, and the 7th somewhere in the region of 100 OR and an unspecified number of officers.¹⁰ These reconfigurations lend support to Martin Middlebrook’s thesis on the relative experience of the BEF on the eve of the German offensive. While interviewing for his book on the ‘Kaiser’s Battle’ in 1977 he asked each contributor to complete a questionnaire, which included the question, ‘When did you arrive on the Western Front?’ By sampling the responses, a crude technique as he admits, he managed to ascertain that most men had been sent out in 1917, and that the average length of service was just over fifteen months. Extrapolating outwards from this sample, he stated that most battalions were made up of one third volunteers and two-thirds conscripts, but the conscripts were not novices, they had gained experience, and very few were fresh-faced 1918 arrivals.¹¹ Experienced or not, it is doubtful whether this redistribution brought the three remaining Buffs’ battalions up to strength. Only the 1st Buffs appears to have reached anything like its war establishment recording a complement of 41 officers and 978 OR on 1 March.¹² The other two battalions probably conformed roughly to Edmonds’ estimated average battalion strength of 500.¹³ The evidence supports this thesis for the 6 Division’s printed history states that its entire trench infantry strength was only 5,000 men at the start of March, while the 7th Buffs was deprived of a draft on 9 January in order to swell the terribly depleted ranks of the 7th RWK.¹⁴ At the same time, the BEF exacerbated its own problems by maintaining its leave provisions and a scheme allowing longserving officers and NCOs to take six-month secondments in Britain. Thanks to the operations of this scheme the 1st Buffs alone lost four officers, including a Captain, and six senior NCOs between mid-February and mid-March.¹⁵ Requiring all the muscle-power and leadership skills they could muster to construct new positions and interpret new orders on defensive schemes, this situation was not a happy one for the remaining Buffs. Converting the British Western Front to the defensive was not an easy job. As noted, for much of the war the British had been on the offensive and had not considered systematic defensive arrangements. Ironically, the successes of 1917 had made the problem of the defence even more complicated, for in the Ypres salient, around Arras, and on the Somme front the BEF now sat in new positions on the far side of the old no man’s land, a devastated zone criss-crossed by inadequate roads and tracks making supply and rotation intensely time-consuming and arduous. Occupying captured German trenches, British units had done little more than carry out rough modifications such as reversing firesteps, digging new saps and communication trenches, and throwing up the odd consolidated point. In areas of less intensive offensive activity the situation was slightly easier and troops were, theoretically at least, in a position in which they could improve the defences;

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in reality these zones were often thinly held as men were drawn off to the active fronts leaving little surplus manpower for consolidation.¹⁶ Improving the British trench and defence system therefore proved exceptionally difficult for the Buffs. There was a vast amount of work to be done and not enough men to do it. The 1st Buffs war diary reports a continual stream of labouring duties in February, and the entry for 16 March states, ‘men employed on a vast number of working parties’.¹⁷ A similar situation was played out on the 6th Buffs’ front, while the 7th Buffs worked throughout the first three weeks of March on the forward defences in the Vendeuil sector. Battalions lost as many as three hundred men a day on these fatigues.¹⁸ Construction work was hampered by the freezing weather that often made it hard to penetrate the solid ground with picks and shovels and the fog which made it difficult to establish locations precisely. As the Buffs slogged through their work, General Jan Smuts compiled a report on the condition of the BEF for the War Cabinet. He concluded that morale was good, but that the infantry was exhausted after the hard battles of 1917, and was being given little time to recover, thanks to the incessant demand for labouring parties.¹⁹ Although the work was undoubtedly necessary, its time-consuming and energysapping nature must have interrupted defensive training, and explanation and understanding of the precise tactical purpose of these new positions. It was an old difficulty for the BEF; two years earlier Maxse had complained of exactly the same problem, stating that time spent on such fatigues drastically undermined his infantry training schedules. The Buffs were actually working on a triple-layered defensive system consisting of a Forward Zone, a Battle Zone, and a Rear Zone. The Forward Zone was designed to stall and hold the enemy for as long as possible mainly by the judicious and liberal use of machine guns in a series of supposedly interlocking posts and redoubts rather than full linear trench lines. If the Forward Zone was overrun, locally held counter-attacking units were instructed to regain the position. The Battle Zone was usually about two to three miles behind the Forward Zone and was to consist of defensive positions some 2,000–3,000 yards in depth. This area was supposed to act as the main ‘sponge’ sucking in the enemy and destroying attacking units. As with the Forward Zone, any lost ground was to be counterattacked immediately with Corps or Army reserve troops. If the two forward zones fell then a retreat to the Rear Zone some four to eight miles further back was planned. Lacking labour, GHQ advised that this zone be roughly marked out and wired if possible. By the end of January work on the Forward Zone was impressive and completed in certain sectors, but in other areas it was patchy and the Battle Zones were lagging behind. Communications were difficult in many places, particularly across the old battlefields of the Somme, and mapping of the new and recycled positions was going ahead as fast as possible.²⁰ To a certain extent the British had decided to copy German defensive arrangements, opting for a flexible defence in depth which was designed to give ground and lure the enemy into ‘killing zones’. For such a system to be effective not only

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the completion of the defences, but also an understanding of, and confidence in, its underlying principles was required. Whether the BEF and the Buffs actually had this understanding is debatable, for an old failing of the BEF raised its head once again. Although the defensive doctrine was sound and intelligent in the circumstances, the means of dissemination remained somewhat laissez-faire. A mechanism was needed to ensure that Army, Corps, and Divisional commanders understood the key lesson of flexibility and that the Forward Zone was supposed to be a thinly held buffer designed to collapse back on to the Battle Zone. Uniformity was not, however, imposed and great latitude was given to commanders with some divisions taking the opportunity to deploy all three brigades in line while others planned to hold men back. Far from ‘fudging’ this issue, Edmonds confronted it head-on in the official history. He bemoaned the British failure to understand German defensive methods. First, the Forward Zone was often the most elaborate of the defences and thus once lost there was nowhere for the defenders to ‘melt’ into, unlike the Germans who had a genuinely elastic system in which the Forward Zone could be used to buy time before they moved back to a much stronger second line of interlocking defences. The British Forward Zone, relying on posts and redoubts, was also dependent on good weather: in order to be mutually supportive the posts had to be within clear and easy visual range. Far from inspiring confidence, this so-called ‘blob’ defensive system was held in much contempt by many in the BEF, for it did not give any definite zone or position from which a fully co-ordinated counter-attack could be launched. The Germans, on the other hand had been given the time and the necessity to devise a fully integrated defensive system over three long years on the Western Front, which gave them a system capable of responding with rapid counter-attacks. The enemy defensive system should not, however, be overly celebrated for, as noted in the last chapter, the degree to which the Germans were capable of counter-attacking effectively and consistently by the end of 1917 is a debatable subject.²¹ The evidence relating to the defensive arrangements made by the Buffs prior to the assault is certainly contradictory and unclear. All three battalions expected some sort of outflanking assault, a fact made obvious by the obsession with wiring round and wiring-in positions.²² Along the 6 Division front, Major-General Marden made a point of personally inspecting all defences on 20 February.²³ Although active in this matter, the operational procedures underpinning his division’s defensive system were still ill-defined. On 21 January, the 16 IB issued a memorandum on defence which stated that the system was to revolve around a two-brigade front with a third in reserve, a situation which remained hypothetical as the 6 Division was operating on a three-brigade frontage.²⁴ A few weeks later Brigadier-General Walker called a conference of his battalion commanders in order to discuss defensive arrangements. The minutes of the meeting reveal a worrying situation. Walker had brought ‘the matter of the retention of [Advanced] posts before the notice of the Division but no reply had been received’.²⁵ Lacking a ruling on whether the Advanced Posts were to be held in

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strength and to the last, the brigade was forced to speculate on the doctrine. Worse still was the lack of effective co-ordination, as ‘the adjoining Division [was] working on different principles of Defence’.²⁶ On 19 February, the brigade issued a provisional defence scheme. It stipulated that two battalions were to occupy the Forward and Battle Zones deploying two companies in each zone, while a third battalion remained in reserve. The document went on to state: The principles of defence are:–(a) Garrison of the Front System will hold out in that system to the last. Its function, in the case of heavy attack, is to break up the leading waves of the attack. With this in view the garrison is situated in Posts, which will be organised and prepared for all-round defence. (b) The front line of the Battle Zone is to be held at all costs. To ensure this, important tactical points in that line will have permanent garrisons told off to them from troops living in that line and any reserve troops in rear of that line will be used, according to circumstances, to reinforce that line, or to restore the situation, by counter attack, at any point where the enemy may have penetrated it.²⁷

On the whole, this scheme appears to be reasonable, but the ambiguous first line probably created problems: Garrison of the Front System will hold out in that system to the last. By using such a term Walker implied that he did not see the Advanced Posts forming an elastic, ‘melting’ defence. Over the next few weeks the scheme must have been refined still further until a definitive statement was issued on 19 March. Orders were given to hold the Forward Zone posts for ‘as long as possible’ so as ‘to break up the leading waves of a heavy attack’. The ‘defended localities’ [much bigger posts or ‘keeps’] in the Battle Zone were ‘to be held at all costs’ [original emphasis].²⁸ The overall defensive doctrine had been implemented at last, but it was issued only two days before the German onslaught, and so it is doubtful whether the officers and men holding these positions ever gained the opportunity fully to comprehend these alterations and definitions. The evidence from the two other battalions is equally mixed. On 24 February, 37 IB issued a Defence Scheme which was nothing like as detailed or clear as those of the 16 IB, and it contained the significant proviso: ‘As the defences are not yet complete troops will be prepared to dig in on the line laid down.’²⁹ Conferences were held by the brigade in January and February on the question of defence, but the surviving documentation does not reveal the creation of a grander plan or scheme of action.³⁰ On the other extreme, the 18 Division appears to have understood the principles from the start. Almost as soon as the Division moved south it began working on its defensive scheme, and Major-General Lee issued a second document on defence superseding his original of 22 January. His new scheme laid a great deal of stress on the need for fully interlocking posts starting with an Advanced Post system within covering fire range of the Battle Zone keeps. He instructed officers manning these keeps to be aware of the fact that they were also collecting points for retiring troops, thus revealing his understanding of a forward ‘crumple’ zone. Finally, recognising the vital importance of the Battle Zone most

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work was put into this section of the system (a fortnight), while the Division commenced construction of the Forward Zone only on 16 March, and spent only four days on it.³¹ These contradictory versions reveal fully the BEF’s lack of overall cohesion: it desperately needed some way of ensuring and monitoring the dissemination of ‘best practice’. A vigorous and intelligent training scheme that imparted a better overall grip on the tactical situation may well have overcome this lack of clarity in precise planning. However, training, although arranged whenever there was time, was never clearly and unambiguously aimed at imparting defensive tactics. In February, the 1st Buffs took part in exercises designed almost exclusively to support offensive operations including attacks on strong points and trenches, the rapid consolidation of captured ground, and the use of ground when advancing.³² Lieutenant-Colonel Power then drew-up a detailed defensive scheme, but, it was highly ambiguous on the concept of a fighting retreat.³³ All three battalions spent much time practising musketry and on Lewis gun work, subjects that would undoubtedly assist the defence, but in no instance is it clear that this was the main aim of the exercises.³⁴ Training must also have been undermined by the loss of experienced officers and NCOs to Britain under the scheme mentioned earlier: the 18 Division was so short of experienced Lewis gunners that the teams in each battalion were reduced to one trained man apiece.³⁵ The evidence left by the Buffs and their related formations therefore suggests that although they expected an attack and had made many preparations, the degree to which British defensive doctrine was commonly understood is more ambiguous. When the German attack commenced in the early hours of 21 March, the 1st Buffs was in support on the 6 Division front opposite the villages of Quéant and Pronville and across the Hirondelle valley behind the 1st KSLI and 2nd York and Lancs in the Forward Zone. On the 1st Buffs’ front the defensive situation was generally far more advanced for the 6 Division was under Third Army’s jurisdiction and General Byng had worked hard for nearly twelve months on the command’s infrastructure and trench system. However, the divisional front was fairly thickly held with all three brigades deploying the greater part of two battalions each in the Forward Zone leaving only one battalion to cover the Battle Zone and a small assortment of men for the Rear Zone.³⁶ Unlike the 1st Buffs, the 7th Buffs was in the Forward Zone holding two major positions, Clarence Keep and Vendeuil Fort, on the eastern bank of the Crozat canal almost on the hinge of the British and French armies. The 7th Buffs was also in a very different situation regarding the nature of its defences, for its zone had seen the French complete little in the way of preparation before Gough’s Fifth Army assumed responsibility for the area in February. At least Fort Vendeuil offered some protection, as it was a sturdy, brick-built construction completed by the French army in 1870 ringed with deep, dry moats.³⁷ At 2 a.m. on 21 March the 1st Buffs was ordered to go up the line and take battle positions in the Vaulx–Morchies work by 5.30 a.m. Power’s comprehensive

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Defence Scheme and instructions were now carried out. The men advanced fairly heavily laden with everyone carrying bandoliers of small arms ammunition and extra Lewis gun drums.³⁸ Power, himself, was not, however, in charge of the battalion at this moment having been ordered to Brigade Headquarters. Command instead devolved on Major H. de R. Morgan, a pre-war Buffs Regular officer who had recently returned from service with the Tank Corps. Almost as soon as the men commenced their march the Germans opened up a harassing artillery fire consisting of high explosive mixed with gas shells, which required the men to wear their masks. Vaulx was soon smothered in gas shells forcing the tail of the battalion to bypass the village altogether. In the confusion it became quite hard to find the ‘Haig’ (Vaulx–Morchies) positions, but the battalion was in place by 6 a.m. D company went up to Noreuil–Morchies road with orders to reinforce or counter-attack as required under the direction of the commanding officer of the 1st KSLI (Forward Zone left) in Lagnicourt Trench. A company took up positions in Posts 21–4; B company went to Macauley Avenue, though some platoons went forward to the Haig position; while C company was held in reserve with orders to fill gaps in the Haig Line between post 22 and Vaulx–Lagnicourt road.³⁹ At about 10 a.m. reports started to come through that the enemy was in Skipton Reserve and Cornhill Valley and later that they had arrived in both Noreuil and

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Lagnicourt under a creeping barrage. The battalion therefore retreated to the Vraucourt Switch near post 7. D company, having received no orders from the 1st KSLI, and exposed on the road, took up places in the Vraucourt Switch vacated by two platoons of B company which had moved up to reinforce the men at post 7. These manoeuvres reveal that although communications may have broken down between the Buffs and the forwardmost battalions of the division, the battalion was still fighting as a relatively cohesive unit, and was making sensible readjustments in line with the unfolding situation. Two other platoons were then despatched to reinforce Lagnicourt trench. These platoons were under the command of Lieutenant T. L. V. Moody and Second Lieutenant Wotton and were never seen again. It is highly likely that these men were despatched too late, as the 1st KSLI and 2nd York and Lancs had been largely wiped out by this stage. By late morning it was obvious that the enemy was advancing rapidly and had overrun the Forward Zone, which is somewhat misleadingly referred to as the ‘battle area’ in the 1st Buffs diary. The use of this term is perhaps revealing of the confusion over defensive terminology prevalent in the BEF. At noon the collapse of this zone was confirmed when a message from 16 IB reported the enemy east of Lagnicourt. C company was then ordered to occupy a line south-east of Vaulx–Lagnicourt Road; it advanced as far as Bois de Vaulx but could find no British troops to its right. Mixed batches of men now occupied the Haig Line including Machine Gun Corps, Trench Mortar Battery, and HQ troops who then put up a stout defence according to the 1st Buffs’ war diary and reveals a good deal about the solid state of morale even among the more splintered remnants: ‘Men of the TMs and MGC who withdrew here, had I believe, fired every round in the forward areas, and had done especially well.’⁴⁰ Showing that chaos had by no means paralysed the entire divisional front, the Brigadier visited battalion headquarters in the early afternoon and emphasised the need to hold on to the ground and find the flanks because by mid-to-late afternoon it had become clear that the Germans were now outflanking most of the British positions leaving isolated groups who were forming their own small defensive positions. This intervention reveals a commander with a clear grip on the battle. Critics may well identify the BEF’s continuing obsession with flanks as a major weakness of its doctrines, but as the 6 Division, and the 16 IB in particular, found itself sticking into a salient due to the collapse of flanking divisions such concerns were entirely sensible. Around this time some platoons of the 1st Buffs witnessed another unit counter-attacking around Vraucourt Copse, but found it impossible to ascertain its effect. Lieutenant Collison-Morley, an officer recently arrived from the 8th Buffs, sent a message timed at 3.25 p.m. stating that the enemy was trying to get round his left flank at post 24. Assessing the situation shrewdly, and doubtless assisted by the fact that he was already on familiar terms with Lieutenant Foster Hall, both men organised their defence by withdrawing into shell holes in the valley and in the process carried out orders by gaining touch with the 6/7th Royal Scots Fusiliers (59 Division) on their left. Foster Hall then sat it out at his new position and was warned to expect a counter-attack from a battalion of the Border

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regiment; in the event this did not materialise. Lieutenant Spence then led an attempt to clear the enemy from Vaulx–Morchies line but was wounded in the foot and it petered out, as the reconnaissance was incomplete. Second Lieutenant Rogers of the 1st KSLI and a section of thirty men from the Brigade Grenade School performed Spence’s task for him by clearing some eight bays of the Vaulx–Morchies trench before erecting a block.⁴¹ Intermingling was now occurring as the remnants of the Forward Zone men and the ‘odds and sods’ sections started appearing in the Buffs’ sectors. By mid-afternoon Captain Hamilton on the right flank of the battalion reported the Germans attacking. He had lost touch with troops on his right (71 IB), was commanding a mixed collection with no officers and very little ammunition, and could see the Germans 600 yards from the wire. However, he managed to cause havoc on an unsupported German advance with his assorted bunch, as they poured fire into a mass of clear targets. A British battery (of XXIV Brigade, Royal Field Artillery) then opened fire at point blank range in Vaulx Wood covering the Buffs’ retirement as its right position began to crumble.⁴² British reinforcements arrived and after a local counter-attack stabilised the situation, but it was noted that the enemy appeared to be moving forwards and cutting wire the whole time in ‘battle patrols’, and enemy guns were seen to come forward. The fact that the Buffs were unable to stop this development reveals that the supposedly mutually supporting posts were not thoroughly interlocking throughout the length and depth of the system. At this stage in the day both sides seemed to accept that enough had been achieved and the situation quietened down. During a relatively uneventful night the battalion sought to find its flanks. The Germans, having entered a gap on the left, made contact with the 40 Division impossible; on the right the 71 IB was found, but not the supporting 59 Division.⁴³ Reviewing the day from the 1st Buffs’ perspective it is fair to state that although it had not faced a direct frontal assault, it had nonetheless performed solidly enough, and had readjusted to every development without ever losing overall shape and cohesion, unlike the two forward battalions of the brigade which had suffered a severe mauling. Next morning the enemy began shelling heavily, crashed through the right flank of the Buffs and swelled the gap on the left. Defensive flanks were therefore thrown down the communication trenches and the lower Noreuil road. An attack on the 120 IB in the Bois de Vaulx forced the defensive flank to swing round the road just outside Vaulx. A counter attack made by a company of 120 IB did not relieve the pressure much and suffered greatly from the enemy’s machine guns. At 2 p.m. Lieutenant Foster Hall reported that he was in touch with the Royal Scots Fusiliers on his left, a battalion of the Border regiment on his right, and that the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders were across the valley. At the same time a party under Lieutenant Buss was falling back, and then reorganised to provide cover for Vaulx. Captain Hamilton was in the meantime kept busy leading a tough fight against the Germans while his flank gradually crumbled, forcing him further away from a battalion of the Borderers across the road in Lagnicourt.⁴⁴

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At 2.50 p.m. Lieutenant Foster Hall reported the 6/7th Royal Scots Fusiliers falling back to what is referred to as the Army Line, but was probably the Corps Line, near the Sugar Factory, and that he was going with them. This threw the left flank into the air and the battalion headquarters was withdrawn down the sunken road about 500 yards south-west of Vaulx. The enemy was then reported to be advancing north-east of Vaulx, and so the remnants of the battalion were gradually withdrawn down the communication trenches, ‘when a lively fight ensued’. But, it was not all one-way traffic, for as the retreat progressed the Germans advancing down the Hirondelle Valley were engaged at point blank range in the sunken road north-east of Vaulx and in a Royal Engineers’ dump. Revealing a sophisticated ability to read the terrain, the division’s machine gunners worked well: ‘Many casualties are known here to have been inflicted on the enemy, and many L[ewis] G[un]s and machine guns displayed great pluck and ingenuity in selecting positions and keeping the enemy under fire.’⁴⁵ As the Buffs prepared to defend their final positions in the Haig Line, they still had not been attacked directly, but their luck now ran out as the British artillery began pounding them. The battalion’s war diary concludes regretfully, ‘There can be little doubt that the final decisions as to the withdrawal from the Haig Line were influenced by this factor.’ The Buffs were then withdrawn from the front at around 5 p.m. and began a long, circuitous journey to the Ypres salient in order to refit and recover.⁴⁶ Casualties in 6 Division were high, nearly 3,900 from the 5,000 engaged, with the 18 IB suffering most severely.⁴⁷ Middlebrook has broken down these figures to reveal that 602 were killed, but 2,116 men were taken prisoner.⁴⁸ This high tally of prisoners demonstrates how quickly the German assault transformed the Forward Zones into a collection of isolated points utterly incapable of putting up a worthwhile resistance. The 1st KSLI and 2nd York and Lancs immediately in front of the Buffs collapsed completely, and around 700 men were taken prisoner.⁴⁹ Despite not facing a full frontal assault, the casualties of the 1st Buffs support this general ratio of killed to prisoners. It suffered 218 casualties in total; of the 8 officer casualties, 2 were taken prisoner, 1 missing, 2 killed and 3 wounded; among the OR, 29 were killed or died of wounds, 66 were missing (40 of whom were with Moody when he was sent forward to garrison Lagnicourt Trench), and 114 were wounded (including 2 still at duty).⁵⁰ The 1st Buffs war diary assessed the fighting of 21–2 March in a self-congratulatory way, and it is difficult to undermine this assessment. As the diary states, the battalion worked well throughout a most confusing and stressful period; it successfully redeployed itself on a number of separate occasions and never came close to being overrun or destroyed in detail. In fact, as its report stresses firmly, the battalion was generally confident of holding the Morchies Line, failing only because it was subjected to heavy bombardment from British artillery. Communications between the companies, battalion headquarters, and brigade worked well, although they did fail with 1st KSLI quite quickly, and there were clearly misunderstandings with the artillery. Officers and men met the situation with flexibility

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and intelligence, and fought according to the prearranged plan attempting to buy time and withdrawing while still in a cohesive structure. Lieutenant Foster Hall’s diary provides an endorsement of this judgement; his entries and later annotations never reveal any real sense of panic or breakdown. His one disconcerting moment came during the late afternoon of 22 March when he was ordered to retire. German shelling hit one of his NCOs causing him to shout out, ‘I’m for blighty’ and he began running. This sudden outburst of ill-discipline communicated itself to his no doubt exhausted platoon and a general trot commenced that ‘looked rather like Epsom Downs with the crowd leaving after the Derby’. At this point, he came across other officers who told him that the men would calm down once they reached the well-wired Corps Line, which is precisely what happened. As the retreat continued, Foster Hall restored morale and discipline to his somewhat twitchy men by taking them through a selection of small arms drills. Like the reassuring comments passed by other officers, this too was a piece of BEF ‘folk wisdom’ for he had been advised to do it by a Guards officer who had used the same trick during the retreat from Mons.⁵¹ In their broader assessments Brigadier-General Walker and Major-General Marden were rather less upbeat without ever appearing to accept any blame for the situation. Walker bemoaned the lack of interlocking positions and the fact that wire had not funnelled the attackers towards the machine gun positions. Marden echoed these thoughts and believed that more time should have been spent preparing the two main zones and less on the support lines. In particular, he criticised the lack of deep dugouts which exposed his men to the concentrated German bombardment. Clearly aware that his posts had failed to be mutually supporting, he stated that his machine guns were neither well sited nor well protected. The artillery’s observation posts had lost touch with the guns almost immediately and thus missed the chance to hit the Germans when advancing through the British wire. Training was also criticised. He noted that his division had been in the line without relief since 14 January, and had no real time to prepare tactically. This lack of preparation then meant that most of his men had no idea as to the principles of defensive warfare and rearguard actions, ‘they simply fell back to the next trench’. Compounding the situation was the poor fire control and consequent waste of ammunition, ‘every Lewis gunner and rifleman shooting at every man in sight’. He chose not to conclude on a completely bleak note, however, and doubtless aware of the actions of troops like the 1st Buffs praised the general resilience and spirit of the men.⁵² Given the great fascination many commentators have shown for German tactics, it is necessary to note the reactions of the 1st Buffs and Marden. The 1st Buffs’ war diary stated emphatically that ‘the enemy deserves favourable criticism’, but makes little other remark or analysis. Foster Hall’s journal, like the war diary, refers to the small groups of attackers, but both also reveal that the Germans mixed these tactics with large, bunched assaults which fell easy prey to infantry and artillery fire, as is evidenced by Captain Hamilton’s stand and that of the

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XXIV Brigade Royal Field Artillery in Vaulx Wood. Many years later when interviewed by Middlebrook, Foster Hall recalled being ‘interested’ by this new German tactic of infiltration by small groups, but still implied that his men could hit back, even if he did inadvertently prove Marden’s reservations about fire control: We opened fire. We undoubtedly hit some but this was the whole point of their tactics. As soon as one party was fired on, the others came on and round. They were looking for our weak spots. Whenever one of these parties got established, they opened up on us with a machine gun but I don’t remember any of my little group being hit. [emphasis added] In our previous attacks, a platoon had gone over in line and they made a good target; we found this new tactic of the Germans interesting. [original emphasis] We were probably a little relieved that there weren’t more of them because we were so weak ourselves, although we were being joined by stragglers from the front line who seemed quite pleased to join us. We were having single shots at individual targets and it all depended on two things—whether you were a good shot and whether you had the range right. I think we opened fire too early, 900 to 1,000 yards, but at 500 or so we started hitting them. I don’t think we hit many but it was one of only two occasions in the war when I’m sure I hit a German.⁵³

Far from painting a dramatic picture of broad, sweeping movements by brilliantly trained infiltrating stormtroops, Foster Hall’s description is actually rather mundane. He depicts a situation that had degenerated into semi-stalemate. It might be argued that the real damage had been done earlier in the day not by the stormtroops but by the German artillery, which destroyed a British defensive position and with it a misunderstood doctrine. Marden was, if anything, even more insouciant and believed the Germans did no more than imitate pre-existing British assault doctrine: ‘The enemy were admittedly well trained in the combination of light machine guns, riflemen and bombers, working in accordance with our principles for the use of these weapons.’ (emphasis added)⁵⁴ Turning to the experiences of the 7th Buffs, a remarkably similar story was played out. The battalion was scattered across a series of positions with its right company in platoon positions around the lock in the quarry on the Oise canal near Travecy. One company was in and around Fort Vendeuil in the centre, and the northern (left) company was in a series of posts north of Vendeuil close to the Oise canal. Ransome held a fourth company in reserve behind the centre of his front. At 4.35 a.m. a violent bombardment opened on the Forward Zone, but it proved to be no easy advance for the Germans. Although the attackers forced a way through the 58 Division in the south near Travecy, when they came upon the Buffs at the lock gate they were heavily engaged and made no further headway until Captain Grant withdrew the last of his men at 5.30 p.m. that evening. A few small groups of A company men remained behind, and the last were taken prisoner on 22 March soon after they had fired off the last of their ammunition on a German transport column.⁵⁵ Captain Chant, commanding the northern company, lost communications with battalion headquarters almost immediately.

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His positions were overwhelmed, but with the remnants of his men he made a slow retreat towards Vendeuil and the fort where he arrived in the late morning. Securely sealed into the fort, Captain Fine commenced a methodical defence. Stripped of telephonic communications, he maintained signalling by lamp and flag, which proved invaluable in directing field gun and infantry fire onto the advancing Germans causing them to retreat. Meanwhile Ransome had organised a motley collection of headquarters staff, sanitary men, pioneers, cooks, servants, battle police, and signallers into a garrison for Clarence Keep, a position some way behind the fort. As stragglers came back, Ransome immediately ordered them into the keep. Throughout the afternoon the Germans hammered at Fort Vendeuil without making much progress. Fine maintained his position, and a successful counter-attack was carried out on Ronquenet Wood at 4 p.m. by Lieutenant Morrell and Second Lieutenant Halliday. The war diary records, ‘the situation then appeared all in our favour’. At 6 p.m. the Germans commenced a thirty-minute bombardment on the fort, but did not follow it up with an attack and the front fell quiet. Ransome responded by sending out patrols to ascertain the situation along his front.⁵⁶ By this stage, however, the 18 Division front was in a critical condition having been thoroughly smashed on either side of the 55 IB. Major-General Lee decided on a withdrawal in order to keep a uniform line. Ransome was not at all convinced by this order, and was equally reluctant to allow Machine Gun Corps officers to pack-up and withdraw the machine guns at Clarence Keep. He responded by putting his adjutant on a bicycle with orders to go into Remigny and personally gain confirmation of the withdrawal. The orders were duly confirmed, and Ransome was forced to begin preparations to fall back to the new brigade line at Liez.⁵⁷ In doing so Ransome must have realised that he had no time to arrange a relieving counter-attack and was therefore sacrificing the men in the fort and those remnants scattered across other forward positions. The next day the situation continued to deteriorate, although Fine held out at Fort Vendeuil until late in the afternoon when lack of food, water, and ammunition finally forced him to surrender. Resolute soldiers in a good defensive position had put up a quite remarkable defence; the scale of the achievement is emphasised in the German timetable, for the fort was scheduled to fall by 11.15 a.m. on 21.⁵⁸ In fact, the 7th Buffs was the only unit along the entire III Corps front to hold its Forward Zone throughout the 21. At Liez the remaining sections of the battalion were directed still further back to the western side of the Crozat canal with orders to entrench in Hallot Wood. The battalion diary notes that the men were very hungry and did not relish this arduous new task.⁵⁹ Gough hoped that the Crozat canal would act as a significant barrier, but as Edmonds pointed out in the official history, the canal was by no means as formidable as many believed. Once on its far bank, the British lost the ability to patrol the farther side and maintain observation on the enemy. In addition, the new defences were very patchy and uncoordinated.⁶⁰ In fact, the

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Germans soon began crossing the canal and undermined the new defensive position almost immediately. Middlebrook refers to the position along the III Corps front as ‘a disaster that was entirely foreseeable’ due to the thinness of the troops holding this sector which had been taken over from the French only eight weeks earlier.⁶¹ As the situation became more fluid greater emphasis was placed on brigadiers and battalion commanders to interpret or adapt orders according to the circumstances. Confusion was becoming an increasing problem as units were ordered to occupy positions already lost. Ransome certainly took the opportunity to alter things according to the local situation. Having had his battalion broken up almost as soon as he arrived on 22 March in order to supply the 7th Queen’s with additional manpower for a projected counter-attack on Tergnier (the eventual assault was made by Queen’s men alone), his remnants were ordered to continue digging positions in the wood. From early on 23 the Germans began to assault these new positions and quickly persuaded Ransome that the decision to hold this line was mistaken due to the lack of clear observation. He therefore took it upon himself to liaise with the flanking Queen’s and withdrew his men to a new line along the outside edge of Frières Wood. As he had done two days earlier, Ransome organised all stragglers along this line and deployed his machine guns to great effect fighting off a series of heavy assaults. However, the battalion now lost Lieutenant (acting Captain) Morrell and Second Lieutenant Halliday wounded, the two enterprising officers who had carried out the counter-attack at Ronquenet Wood so efficiently. A French counter-attack then failed, and when the French troops began to melt off the battlefield some British troops went with them. Probably fearing a rout, Ransome liaised with the 10th Essex, now up in support, and both units began a slow retreat back to Rouez Wood near Villeguier. With his remaining officers Ransome set about sorting out his troops, while Captain Black led a small party forward to harass any advancing Germans.⁶² Brigadier Wood later commented on the value of Ransome’s clear and firm actions: In the light of subsequent knowledge it is clear that the stand made here [at Frières Wood] by Lt-Col Ransome’s force was of the greatest value not only to the rest of the brigade, but to the whole line in this vicinity . . . This stand was due in the first place to the skill and foresight of Lt-Col Ransome in establishing a line outside the wood on which the withdrawing troops, scattered and disorganized by the confused fighting in the wood could be rallied and reorganized.⁶³

Over the next two days the battalion continued to retreat along with the rest of the division. Relief came on 28 March when the battalion was taken out of the line and billeted in the caves at Audignicourt. The respite was short-lived for the next day the 7th Buffs was embussed and dropped at St Nicholas, near Amiens and Villers Bretonneux. The Germans were desperately trying to break through on this front in order to capture the important railway junction of Amiens and drive a wedge between the French and British armies. In the early hours of 4 April

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the Buffs and the 35th Australian battalion on their left were warned to expect an attack. At 7 a.m. the attack commenced, but the British artillery caught the enemy trying to form-up and caused a good deal of disruption. Eventually the German assault made progress, as the Australian battalion retreated forcing the Buffs to follow suit. Additional readjustment was forced when it was discovered that the Australians had actually retreated further than initially thought. Rain then began to pour making the mud a severe problem. Throughout, however, the Buffs maintained contact with the Australians on their left and held their positions with three companies. In the late afternoon Australian troops were ordered to establish themselves at Villers Bretonneux, supported by the 7th Queen’s and 8th E. Surrey. The Queen’s immediately ran into trouble and the E. Surrey made only limited headway. These actions effectively marked the temporary extinction of the brigade for it was withdrawn that evening, and Ransome was given the task of making up a composite unit from the remnants which were then divided between the 53 and 54 brigades; the brigade was not reanimated until a week later.⁶⁴ Like the 1st Buffs, the bulk of the 7th Buffs’ casualties appear to have been prisoners. From 21 March to 5 April the battalion suffered 585 OR casualties, but only 64 were actually killed in action, whereas something in the region of 400 were missing.⁶⁵ In terms of officers the battalion fared disastrously, 23 were lost during this period, but only 1 was actually killed in action. Although the battalion was engaged in an almost continual retreat, like the 1st Buffs it never collapsed utterly, and indeed thanks to the vigorous and clear-sighted action of Ransome, using every communications channel left open, revealed a remarkable degree of resilience and military effectiveness. At no point were the battalion’s positions utterly destroyed, and, perhaps more significantly, at no point does it appear to have been attacked by an enemy using tactics considered either novel or worthy enough to elicit special comment by the battalion’s or brigade’s diarists. The 6th Buffs was also drawn into the struggle, but in a slightly different way. After the Battle of Cambrai it had been sent to the Armentières sector where it shared the line with Portuguese troops and tried to combine work on new defences with trench-holding duties. On 21 March, the 6th Buffs were behind the lines along with the rest of the 12 Division. They were then despatched south to the Somme front arriving on 25 March. After orders were chopped and changed the 37 IB was directed to Contalmaison and instructed to fill a gap between units of the 63 and 47 Divisions. On reaching La Boiselle Brigadier Incledon-Webber placed himself at Major-General Gorringe’s (47 Division) disposal as the situation ahead was far from certain. Gorringe instructed the brigade to counter-attack at Pozières, and establish communication with the remnants of the 47 Division and the 63 Division to the left. This order was then altered to the establishment of a line of posts at Ovillers.⁶⁶ The Buffs formed the extreme left hand of the brigade and duly gained contact with the 63 Division at Thiepval. In the early hours of the next morning it was announced that the enemy was in Thiepval, and so the Buffs readjusted their

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position in order to allow the 47 and 12 Divisions to cross the Ancre. A new line was then formed on the edge of Hamel. A tense thirty-six hours followed in which the Buffs watched for every movement in the German line. On 26 March, the expected enemy move came when a strong enemy reconnaissance party tried to enter the Buffs’ positions. Massed Lewis gun and rifle fire drove the Germans off as B company stood its ground. Meanwhile Lieutenant-Colonel Smeltzer organised a counter-attack to assist this isolated unit. It proved successful, and twenty to thirty enemy dead were counted in the area, and seven prisoners taken. Unassisted by artillery, the Germans had fallen rather easy prey to the firepower of resolute troops. Unfortunately, however, units of the 63 Division mistook this activity for a German break-in and began firing on a Buffs party on the Martinsart–Mesnil road. A short, but intensive, exchange of fire took place before the Buffs managed to persuade the Anson battalion to cease fire. Fortunately no casualties were suffered during this incident.⁶⁷ A pattern of alarms and extreme watchfulness now became the standard routine of the 6th Buffs. On 5 April, the battalion was ordered out of billets and through the enemy barrage falling on Albert to positions on the west side of the town. The next week was spent in scratch trenches made worse by freezing night temperatures, which rapidly increased the number of trench foot cases. Despite these trying conditions, the discipline and resolution of the men appears to have held firm. The battalion war diarist was clearly very proud of this fact, commented on it almost daily, and noted with equal pride that not one man fell out when they marched back to billets.⁶⁸ Although seemingly very different to the desperate struggles of the 1st and 7th Buffs, the 6th Buffs 11 officer and 157 OR casualties between 26 March and 12 April reveal that it was far from a cushy front.⁶⁹ Like the 1st and 7th Buffs, the 6th was handled well by an experienced officer; the men retained their discipline and the Germans failed to exploit their successes effectively. When seen from the perspective of the Buffs, the German spring offensive becomes a somewhat strange affair for although it was a disaster for the BEF as a whole, the three Buffs battalions performed remarkably well. The two units involved in the first day of the battle, the 1st and 7th, adhered to their defence plans and successfully beat-off assaults, reconfigured their lines, and generally maintained unity. Junior officers carried out their tasks with intelligence and vigour, and the men reacted well. Internal communications within the battalions proved largely effective, and battalion headquarters managed to maintain touch with their brigades, but lateral and forward communications with flanking and advanced units were far more problematic. The 1st Buffs rapidly lost contact with the 1st KSLI in front and the battalions to its left and right, while the 7th Buffs maintained its own utterly detached salient. In the early stages of the fighting clear orders were provided from brigades, even if this did not always please the commanders on the spot, Ransome’s dismay at having to give up his positions on 21 March being the most obvious example. However, as the retreat wore on Ransome gained more and more

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autonomy, and his individual decisions played a significant role in the performance of the brigade as well as his own battalion: in fact it appears to be a precursor of the devolved command systems of the summer and autumn advances. The much-vaunted German infantry assault methods do not stand out particularly strongly in the evidence left by the 1st, 6th, and 7th Buffs, their brigades and divisions. In fact, if the battles are read from a purely Buffs’ perspective, the greatest problems faced were those created by the German artillery. It was the artillery that smashed the communications links and it was the artillery that gave the infantry the opportunity to exploit the deficiencies of the British defence doctrine. Rather than attribute the final German defeat to any positive action by the allies, Tim Travers has concluded that the Germans defeated themselves in 1918 by losing too many precious men in their spring offensives.⁷⁰ When assessing this series of British disasters it is tempting to turn Travers’ argument on its head and claim that in many ways this is precisely what happened to the British too: they defeated themselves. Edmonds was quite right to conclude that the British were not psychologically prepared for the form of defence they had chosen.⁷¹ Used to the idea of fighting in line, the concept of separated posts and redoubts was alien. And, as can be seen in relation to the Buffs, in particular the experiences of the 1st Buffs, these posts often failed to provide interlocking cover which made them extremely vulnerable to infiltration tactics especially when conducted in poor visibility. Often misunderstanding the nature of the defensive scheme, many troops decided to stay put and fight it out to the death or surrender when the situation was hopeless rather than execute a methodical, fighting withdrawal.⁷² This interpretation can certainly be placed on the 7th Buffs; it conducted a brilliant, stalwart defence, but Ransome was extremely reluctant to yield territory. On his part Ransome was probably trying to balance the contradictions between the British defence policy of giving ground, and the insistence that it was vital to hold the Crozat canal zone. By contrast, the officers and men of the 1st Buffs appeared to realise that they were there to fight the main battle as defined in British doctrine, and yet the ‘forward heavy’ dispositions of the division cut against this completely. Somewhat ironically, in the event the 1st Buffs fought the wrong battle putting up the textbook Forward Zone defence, killing Germans where and when they were seen, and then retreating gradually and in good order. Unfortunately, unlike the theory, the 1st Buffs found themselves retreating into a vacuum rather than onto a ‘cushion’ of troops and well-wired mutually supporting positions. Despite these difficulties, at no point did any of the Buffs battalions fall into complete chaos or lose touch utterly with the brigade and divisional structures. As has been shown, in the cases of the 6th and 7th Buffs the enemy was ultimately contained, while the 1st Buffs was relieved after it, its division, and corps had put up a resistance of such fierce intensity that the Germans were forced to change their plans.⁷³ At the conclusion of this exhausting phase the three battalions were in need of rest, reinforcement, and restructuring. For the survivors it was a chance to reflect on the methods of both sides and distil lessons as a guide for future operations.

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1. Quoted in Gary Sheffield, Forgotten Victory: The First World War, Myths and Realities (London: Headline, 2001), 185. 2. For more on the German strategic situation by the turn of 1917/18 see Holger H. Herwig, The First World War: Germany and Austria-Hungary, 1914–1918 (London: Arnold, 1997). For details on German planning and tactics see J. E. Edmonds, Military Operations France and Belgium, 1918 Vol. 1 (London: Macmillan, 1935), 156–60; Bruce I. Gudmundsson, Stormtroop Tactics: Innovation in the German Army 1914–1918 (New York: Praeger, 1989); T. T. Lupfer, The Dynamics of Doctrine: The Changes in German Tactical Doctrine during the First World War (Fort Leavenworth, Kan.: US Army Command and General Staff College, 1981). 3. For further details on Haig’s preparations for 1918 see John Terraine, Douglas Haig, the Educated Soldier (London: Hutchinson, 1963), 395–408. For further debate on the allied strategic situation in the winter of 1917–18 see Edmonds, Military Operations, 1918, Vol. 1, 1–37. 4. See Terraine, Educated Soldier, 363–5. 5. The manpower crisis of 1918 has become a cause célèbre among historians and is well covered in Keith Grieves, The Politics of Manpower (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1988). 6. See Edmonds, Military Operations 1918, Vol. 1, 20–8. 7. Ibid., 52. 8. Ibid., 50–6. 9. NAM 2002-02-913 Lieutenant Eric Foster Hall MC Diary, 8 Feb. 1918. 10. WO 95/1608, 1st Buffs WD, 8 Feb. 1918; WO 95/1860, 6th Buffs WD, 9 Feb. 1918; WO 95/2048, 55 IB WD, Strength Return 28 Feb. 1918. 11. Martin Middlebrook, The Kaiser’s Battle, 21 March 1918: The First Day of the German Spring Offensive (London: Penguin, Allen Lane, 1978), 83–4. 12. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, Statement of Casualties 31 March 1918. 13. Edmonds, Military Operations, 1918, Vol. 1, 125. 14. Major-General T. O. Marden, A Short History of the Sixth Division August 1914–March 1919 (London: Hugh Rees, 1920) 50; WO 95/2048, 55 IB WD, 9 Jan. 1918. 15. WO 95/1608, 1st Buffs WD, 14, 21 Feb., 9, 15 March 1918. 16. See Edmonds, Military Operations, 1918, Vol. 1, 38. 17. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, Feb., 16 March 1918. 18. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, Feb., March 1918; WO 95/2048 55 IB WD, Feb., March 1918. 19. Edmonds, Military Operations, 1918, Vol. 1, 40. 20. Ibid., 41–3. 21. Ibid., 256–8. 22. See the brigade war diaries for January–March. 23. WO 95/1607 16 IB WD, 20 Feb. 1918. 24. Ibid., 16 IB Defence Scheme, 21 Jan. 1918. 25. Ibid., Minutes of Commanding Officers’ Conference, 12 Feb. 1918. 26. Ibid.

Defending, January–April 1918 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36. 37. 38. 39. 40. 41. 42. 43. 44. 45. 46. 47. 48. 49. 50. 51. 52. 53. 54. 55. 56. 57. 58.

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WO 95/1607 16 IB WD, Provisional Defence Scheme, 19 Feb. 1918. Ibid., 19 March 1918. WO 95/1859 37 IB WD, Defence Scheme, 24 Feb. 1918. Ibid., 25 Jan., 26 Jan., 3 Feb. 1918. WO 95/2017 18 Division WD, 22 Jan.; Defensive Scheme, 27 Feb. 1918. WO 95/1607 16 IB WD, Training Schedules Feb. 1918. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, Defence Scheme, 16 March 1918. WO 95/1607 16 IB WD, Training Schedules Feb. 1918; WO 95/1868 6th Buffs WD, Jan., Feb. 1918; WO 95/2048 55 IB WD, Feb. 1918. G. H. F. Nichols (Quex), The 18th Division in the Great War (Edinburgh and London: William Blackwood & Sons, 1922), 249. WO 95/1584 6 Division WD, Defence Plan, Feb. 1918; see also Edmonds, Military Operations, 1918, Vol. 1, 225–7. Edmonds, Military Operations, 1918, Vol. 1, 95–9, 122; Middlebrook, Kaiser’s Battle, 270. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, Defence Scheme, 16 March 1918. Ibid., 21 March 1918. Ibid. Ibid. Edmonds, Military Operations, 1918, Vol. 1, 227. Edmonds states that all of these guns were successfully withdrawn from the field. The Buffs diarist confirmed that one was certainly taken away. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 21 March 1918. Ibid., 22 March 1918. Ibid. Ibid., 23 March 1918. Marden, 6th Division, 50. Middlebrook, Kaiser’s Battle, 315, 321. Ibid., 194–5. WO 1608 1st Buffs WD, Statement of Casualties 31 March 1918; R. S. H. Moody, Historical Records of the Buffs, East Kent Regiment 1914–1919 (London: Medici Society, 1922), 325. NAM 2002-02-913 Foster Hall Diary, 22 March 1918. WO 95/1584 6 Division WD, Report on Operations 21–3 March 1918, dated 5 May 1918; WO 95/1607 16 Brigade WD, Report on Operations 5 a.m. 21 March 1918 to 6 a.m. 23 March 1918, dated 4 April 1918. Quoted in Middlebrook, Kaiser’s Battle, 228–9. WO 95/1584 6 Division WD, Report on Operations 21–3 March 1918, dated 5 May 1918. Moody, Historical Records, 345. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, 21 March 1918. Moody, Historical Records, 346. Edmonds, Military Operations 1918, Vol. 1, 172–3; Fine’s garrison included a Royal Engineers Field Survey Company on flash-spotting duties, two trench mortar teams, and two platoons of the division’s ‘bad marchers’. Captain Fine was a popular officer well known for his female impersonations during battalion entertainments. Middlebrook, Kaiser’s Battle, 270. See also the description of the defence of the Fort,

182

59. 60. 61. 62. 63. 64.

65. 66. 67. 68. 69. 70.

71. 72. 73.

Defending, January–April 1918 ‘Some Reflections from Fort Vendeuil. March 20th to 22nd, 1918’ in Dragon, Jan. 1934, 7–8. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, 22 March 1918. Edmonds, Military Operations, 1918, Vol. 1, 207, 268. Middlebrook, Kaiser’s Battle, 274. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, 22–3 March 1918; WO 95/2048 55 IB WD, Account of Operations 21–6 March 1918. Quoted in Moody, Historical Records, 349. Ibid., 349–52; WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, 28 March–6 April 1918; WO 95/2048 55 IB WD, Account of Operations 21–6 March 1918, Account of Operations 1–6 April 1918. Interestingly, Edmonds states that the 35th Australian battalion fell back to prepared position on 4 April and then made connection with the 18 Division that had already fallen back. However, as stated above, the 7th Buffs diary certainly gives the impression that it was made to conform to an Australian withdrawal and remained in front of the Australians throughout the early part of the day. A further discrepancy can be detected in the differences of judgement concerning the counter-attack made by the 7th Queen’s and 8th E. Surrey. The brigade WD makes a rather cautious assessment of its effect whereas it is celebrated by Edmonds as a great success. However, this may have been a judgement made after seeing German papers and with the value of hindsight. See J. E. Edmonds, Military Operations France and Belgium, 1918, Vol. 2 (London: Macmillan, 1937), 124–5. Figures drawn from WO 95/2048 55 IB WD, Casualty Return 21–31 March 1918; Soldiers and Officers Died in the Great War (Sussex: CD-Rom, Naval and Military Press, 1998). Major-General Sir Arthur B. Scott (ed.), P. Middleton Brumwell (compiler), The History of the 12th (Eastern) Division in the Great War, 1914–1918 (London: Nisbit & Co. Ltd., 1923), 161–9. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 25–7 March 1918; WO 95/1859 37 IB WD, Report on Operations of 6th Buffs on night of 26 March 1918, dated 29 March 1918. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 5–12 April 1918. Ibid., 25 March–12 April 1918. Tim Travers, How the War was Won: Command and Technology in the British Army on the Western Front, 1917–1918 (London: Routledge, 1992), 175. Although he might not see much to celebrate in the British army’s advance to victory in 1918, Travers certainly does not heap too much praise on the German tactical achievement. He states that the spring offensives were marked by poor tactical performance in a bungled strategy. How the War was Won, 175. Edmonds, Military Operations, 1918, Vol. 1, 258. Edmonds stated: ‘No warning seems to have been given to any brigade or battalion commanders, and therefore none to the lower ranks, that in certain circumstances there might be an ordered retreat.’ Military Operations, 1918, Vol. 1, 258. Ibid., 324.

8 Winning: July–November 1918 Although they were by no means absolutely sure, the allies began to suspect that they had weathered the worst of the German offensives by late June 1918. General Foch, who had been appointed supreme commander of allied forces on the Western Front during the March crisis, was confident enough to begin plans for a counter-offensive while making preparations to see off further German assaults. This confidence was inspired by a number of factors. First, allied intelligence gathering was providing a fairly good appreciation of German intentions giving Foch and his subordinates time to think and prepare. In addition, allied manpower was growing, thanks to the arrival of thousands of American soldiers. However, like the conscripts being prized out of French and British society to fill the large gaps in their ranks, these men were largely untrained and had no experience of battle. By contrast, German manpower on the Western Front had peaked and there was no chance of replenishing it by robbing from other theatres. The balance of equipment and munitions was also falling in the allied favour. American, French, and British war industries were churning out ammunition, planes, guns, tanks, gas, rifles, and machine guns at an amazing rate allowing all losses to be replaced relatively easily. When the final significant German blow came on 15 July the allies were therefore prepared and equipped to fight off the assault. A combination of French and American troops supplemented by British and Italians checked the offensive and rapidly reacted with a counter-offensive on 18 July, which then provided the allies with a very important victory. German troops had not only been stopped, but were definitely beaten back. Another indicator of changing circumstances was glimpsed on Rawlinson’s Fourth Army front on 4 July when the Australian Corps, aided by US troops, attacked at Hamel. Thanks to excellent staff work by the planners, tanks, guns, infantry, and aircraft combined brilliantly to inflict a significant defeat on the enemy. The carefully planned set-piece actions that had been so successful in 1917 were on the verge of moving up a gear. Boosted by this victory, Rawlinson responded to Haig’s request for views on possible counter-strokes with a plan for an attack in the Amiens sector. Haig then took these ideas to a meeting with Foch, and permission for the assault was given. The subsequent Battle of Amiens signalled the greatest and most concentrated set of victories ever achieved by the British army, and resulted in the final defeat of Germany.¹

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The three remaining Buffs battalions played an important role in these actions and illustrate the key elements underpinning British success in the ‘100 Days’ to victory. After having played a full role in the defeat of the German onslaughts of the spring, the three Buffs battalions were largely exhausted. Losses of men and equipment had to be made good before they could take part in any offensive, and the new men had to be trained and acclimatised to life on the Western Front. By late spring all three battalions appear to have been supplemented by an influx of fresh drafts. The 1st Buffs stood at 37 officers and 935 OR on the 1 May, while the 7th Buffs consisted of 38 officers and 866 OR on 27 July. Figures are not available for the 6th Buffs, but it is highly probable that it was of a similar strength.² Many of these men had been combed-out of industrial jobs in Britain and had received very little in the way of training. Transforming these newcomers into useful members of each battalion was therefore a pressing task. Slotting the recruits into place was a matter of some debate and experimentation. Shute, the commander of V Corps ordered the brigades under his command to trial a new platoon structure. Based on the idea of massing Lewis gun fire, one battalion in each brigade was instructed to form a platoon of four Lewis gun detachments made up of one NCO and six men, which was to be held as a reserve under the direct authority of the battalion commander. A second platoon of four Lewis gun detachments, also under the battalion commander, was to be constituted to deal with anti-aircraft defence. Each company was then reorganised into four platoons as follows: two Lewis gun, and two rifle platoons. The Lewis gun platoons were made up of two guns, each gun squad was commanded by an NCO and consisted of an eight-man team and a scout. The rifle platoons were divided into three sections, and were given an additional armament of rifle-grenades and bombs. The specialist bomber was therefore finally discarded.³ Twenty-four Lewis guns were now available to the battalion giving it a significant increase in mechanised firepower. The 6th Buffs was instructed to act as 37 IB’s trialists and duly reconfigured in mid-May.⁴ At the same time, the 7th Buffs was ordered to reconstruct its platoons along the ‘organisation recently adopted’, which appears to have been similar to that described above, and then carried out ‘small schemes to bring out use and combination of all infantry weapons’.⁵ Both battalions had been reconstituted along the lines suggested by Maxse’s Inspectorate of Training manual which was being compiled in May 1918, and was published three months later. The adoption of Maxse’s scheme before his notes were formally published reveals that BEF commanders were certainly willing to experiment and accept innovation.⁶ Three weeks later the 12 Division units detailed to carry out this experiment reported their findings; the responses make interesting reading. None responded favourably to the concept for a variety of reasons. Although it was admitted that the concentration of firepower had advantages, and the centralising of the teams assisted training, the minus points were far greater. Revealing a desire to create fully-integrated platoons, the battalion commanders complained that the new structure disrupted training according to the pamphlet ‘The Training and

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Employment of Platoons’, and undermined the platoon as ‘the complete fighting unit’. Further, it was believed that the rearrangement broke down mutual understanding between the rifleman and the Lewis gunner, and the emphasis on battalion control watered down the general quality of the men in the companies, which implies that Lewis gunners were seen as the elite of the battalion. Finally, it was noted that the experimental structure increased a tendency towards specialisation, which was something battalion commanders wanted to avoid. This last point shows that the BEF had come a long way in its training philosophy since 1915 when the emphasis was on specialisation as a shortcut to a blend of skills. Now there was a confidence in multi-tasking and flexible responses from troops who were expected to reveal a broader skills base.⁷ Having attempted the experiment the 12 Division moved over to a new structure in June whereby each battalion adopted platoons divided into riflemen and Lewis gunners. Thus, the essence of the original idea was maintained, but in a more flexible structure.⁸ Major-General Higginson, who had assumed command of the division in April, then set about ensuring rigorous and relevant training regimes. Promoted from command of the 53 IB in 18 Division, Higginson brought its high qualities with him. The scale of the task was emphasised in the vicious struggle to gain the Bouzincourt spur in late June. Ordered to assist the 18 Division in the capture of this prominent position north of Albert, the assault was delivered on 30 June, but initial successes were soon reversed in a determined German counter-attack. Higginson investigated the operation and drew a number of conclusions after seeking the opinion of his brigadiers. Incledon-Webber of the 37 IB was one of the most vociferous, and he identified training and leadership as the key issues. Aware that young and inexperienced troops could be confused and paralysed by battle he recommended a mixture of sticks and carrots: ‘It has been found in recent attacks that the men do not always follow and support their leaders. This shows that leaders are not properly disposed. Some of them must bring up the rear to push on and deal summarily if necessary with any recalcitrants.’ Using elementary psychology he added that battalions should commence a slow and deliberate fire when under a barrage in order to steady nerves and distract the men. With a good deal of prescience, he noted that battalion commanders had to use their initiative and could not expect a continual stream of detailed orders in the new conditions. Finally, he reinforced the need to create a multi-skilled force by highlighting over-concentration in certain areas of training: Our troops were driven out by German counterattacks chiefly because the Germans can throw their bombs further. I consider this is because training in the use of the bomb has been much neglected for the Lewis gun and rifle. The infantryman must be able to use all his weapons and must not specialise in any particular branch.⁹

This sudden resurrection of affection for the grenade was somewhat ironic given the BEF’s disdain for the bomber from late 1916. Higginson picked up on these points in his report to V Corps Headquarters, stressing the need for junior officers

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to maintain close control over their inexperienced men when in action. The adoption of a battalion structure that devolved men and weapons from the direct influence of the battalion commander meant that rapid responses by the man on the spot were vital. However, many of the officers were themselves new to their trade by this stage of the war.¹⁰ Having identified the problems Higginson certainly set about rectifying them. The 6th Buffs spent the last fortnight of July practising attacking procedures, including formations in the first stage of an attack, the forming of advanced and rear guards, and the tactical employment of Lewis guns. Firing exercises were carried out on the ranges, company commanders attended conferences, junior officers were given lessons in map reading, and the programme culminated in a practise attack on a village. Higginson oversaw the schemes and expressed his satisfaction with progress at the conclusion of the programme.¹¹ While these training schedules were in progress preparations were being made in great secrecy to launch Rawlinson’s Amiens offensive. Fourth Army’s front held significant attractions: a successful attack would drive the Germans from the important communications centre of Amiens, the German defences in this sector appeared relatively weak, and the ground was firm and unbroken which would maximise the usefulness of tanks. The 6th and 7th battalions formed part of III Corps, the northern-most sector of Rawlinson’s front, and their divisions were allotted roles designed to secure the flanks. The 18 Division was detailed to advance alongside the 58 Division and instructed to capture the Chipilly Spur, Gressaire Wood, and the southern section of Tailles Wood; while the 12 Division, further north, was to outflank Morlancourt and then meet up with the 18 Division.¹² Although the British possessed a massive advantage in terms of the number of guns, particularly heavy pieces, the bulk of them had been allocated to the corps attacking in the centre leaving the III Corps with a relatively thin screen. Secondly, the ground in the northern sector was marked by spurs and low ridges separated by the boggy low ground straddling the River Somme. Finally, III Corps troops had been involved in a heavy action only a month earlier which had raised questions about its suitability for large-scale actions.¹³ A further piece of ill fortune befell the 18 and 12 Divisions on the 6 August when the 27 Württemburg Division attacked astride the Bray–Corbie road. The 7th Buffs was alternating its front line companies when the assault commenced, and it caught them unawares. German intentions had been shrouded in mystery since their withdrawal to the eastern side of the Ancre between Albert and Dernancourt a few days earlier. Wanting information, Ransome was forced to disregard the weariness of his soaked troops who had been in the poorly constructed front line trench since 31 July. Patrols had revealed nothing, and just a few hours before the assault a party of Buffs had rushed an enemy post and found it deserted.¹⁴ As reports began to flow to battalion headquarters detailing German penetration of the Buffs’ line, Ransome sent Major Nicholson forward to appreciate the situation. New posts were established which brought the German

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advance to a standstill, and D company managed to make contact with the 7th Norfolk on the flank. That evening fresh troops were released for a counter-attack, which took place next day, but did not quite succeeded in retaking all the lost ground. In dealing with this problem III Corps was forced to deploy troops from the 12 Division and thus complicated preparations for the main offensive still further.¹⁵ When the assault commenced at 4.20 a.m. on 8 August, the 7th Buffs was behind the lines recuperating after its tough fight. The 6th Buffs was also behind the line waiting for its moment to join the battle. The fighting on 8 August went firmly in favour of the British. Using their artillery advantage skilfully, the British brought down a punishing barrage on the Germans and, crucially, the counterbattery work managed to suppress the enemy guns. This provided the infantry and tanks with the opportunity to work in close concert and display their hard won skills. An impressive advance was achieved, but on III Corps front events had not unfolded quite so simply. As noted above, both geography and the artillery cover were factors militating against a dramatic leap forward, and by evening on 8 August the Corps had gained no more than its first objectives. Enthused by the general success of the day, Haig and Rawlinson decided to press on, and planned for operations on the following day. III Corps was ordered to clear up the situation on its front and take the high ground of the Chipilly spur.¹⁶ These operations brought the 6th Buffs into the battle. Instructed to capture Morlancourt, the battalion set off for its forming-up positions and was well in front of the British wire and closing in on its zero hour when orders came postponing the attack. Unable to get the message through to all his companies, Smeltzer rushed forward to take personal control. However, he arrived too late to prevent some units moving off at 5.30 a.m. without an artillery barrage. Revealing the skills and firepower base the troops now possessed, the German lines were penetrated before the message ordering the withdrawal arrived. One platoon occupied a quarry and established a firing position which then allowed the rest of the attacking units to return to their assembly positions. The assault was eventually rescheduled for 5.30 p.m. at which time the battalion advanced south of Morlancourt village under cover of a creeping barrage and with the assistance of tanks. The troops advanced in artillery file, and attempted to outflank Morlancourt. German machine gun fire and a field gun stalled the advance, but Privates Caldwell and Wallace worked their Lewis gun into position and silenced the field gun. This allowed the tanks to advance, and by using their support the Buffs managed to capture the village and make contact with the 6th Queen’s and 6th RWK attacking to the north. The Buffs took 340 prisoners, two 77 mm. guns, two heavy and seven light mortars, and twelve machine guns. It was an impressive tally, but the cost was by no means light. During the course of the day the battalion lost 4 officers wounded, and 3 killed including a company commander. In addition, nearly 200 OR had been killed or wounded.¹⁷ Having pushed in the German front line the way was now open for an attack on the

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Amiens Outer Defence Line in this section. Major-General Higginson commenced planning for the assault by liaising with 58 Division on his southern flank and suggested a joint advance. At 6 p.m. the next day 35 and 37 IBs attacked across the flat plateau behind Morlancourt and running southwards down to the Somme supported by a Royal Field Artillery brigade and tanks. The Buffs broke into the defence line, captured a battery of 4.2-inch howitzers, and took Hill 105, but were unable to hold on to this last position.¹⁸ Compared with attacks on the Somme in the same area two years earlier, huge advances in terms of weapons, techniques, and tactics can be detected. Rather than allow an assault to go ahead without a properly planned barrage, the first attack on 9 August had been cancelled, which was bound to save lives and result in a more efficient use of the men. Secondly, the troops had enough skill and training to outflank an enemy field gun and suppress it with their own weapons. This transformed the local tactical situation, and allowed the tanks to assist the Buffs in their outflanking and infiltrating manoeuvre. At this point the BEF as a whole revealed that it had leapt forward in terms of sophistication for, rather than repeatedly throw troops into an expanding battle which was witnessing German resistance toughening and advances decreasing, Haig and Rawlinson agreed to pause and prepare for a new assault. The pressure on the Germans was not to be relinquished, however, for the baton was passed to General Byng of Third Army. Byng was urged to open an attack with the intention of keeping the Germans off balance. As Byng prepared for action to the immediate north of Fourth Army, Rawlinson planned to assist with a series of assaults on the boundary of the two armies. III Corps was therefore instructed to clear Albert and secure the high ground running from the Ancre to the Somme.¹⁹ The 18 Division was given the task of taking Albert and providing flank protection for the Corps’ operations. The 7th Buffs was ordered to advance from Albert and on to the high ground running south from the Albert–Bapaume road towards Méaulte and Bécourt Wood on 22 August. Unable to provide a creeping barrage, the artillery decided to assist by reverting to its old tactic of bombardments with prearranged lifts. Ransome built this into his planning and decided to advance by small columns covered by scouting parties. He was determined not to allow too many men to get caught in the open should anything go wrong.²⁰ In the event the battalion reached the outskirts of Albert fairly easily, as the 8th E. Surrey fought through the town suppressing all strong points, but the advance was then ruined by false reports of the capture of Tara Hill, which resulted in its exclusion from bombardment. When the Buffs tried to advance strong machine gun fire caused many casualties. Rather than push matters, Ransome immediately decided to abandon the assault, and contacted the Brigadier. The two men agreed to make another attempt after dark and push forward tanks.²¹ This vignette reveals yet another development in the BEF by 1918. As was noted in an earlier chapter, on the Somme in 1916 command had been top-heavy and often far removed from the reality on the ground. However, two years later the situation was reversed as a

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hugely experienced battalion commander and his brigadier unilaterally decided to revise the plans in the light of the situation. A fresh barrage was ordered by every available gun, mortar, and machine gun, and then the Buffs assaulted in bounds covered by their patrols in a classic fire and manoeuvre fashion, and by 2.30 a.m. on 23 August the objectives had been taken.²² At the same time the 6th Buffs was temporarily attached to the 35 IB for an assault on Méaulte. At 1.30 a.m. on 22 August the Buffs were in the forming-up positions where they were shelled with gas. This disruption did not stop the attack going off on time, and the Buffs advanced some 2,500 yards. Eleven heavy machine guns were captured and fourteen prisoners taken. In return the battalion suffered one officer and five OR killed, two officers and thirty OR wounded. Running short of ammunition during the course of the day, the Buffs were replenished by an aircraft re-supply as 3,000 rounds were dropped by parachute.²³ Weapons combinations were clearly having a significant impact on the battlefield. Returned to the 37 IB, the battalion was ordered to advance again in the early hours of 24 August. The 6th Queen’s and the 6th RWK in the lead were accompanied by tanks, but were held up by a German strong point. As with the assault on 7th Buffs’ front, it was decided to abandon the assault as the 36 IB’s and 47 Division’s advances were about to outflank the positions. Here was a force reacting to circumstances intelligently and with the desire to husband precious lives. With the enemy withdrawing along the 37 IB front, the 6th Buffs and the 6th Queen’s were ordered to advance to contact. In the thick fog the Buffs moved by compass bearing and extended order formation. A 3,000-yard advance was made before contact, at which point the 35 IB took up the running and soon pushed the enemy back another 2,000 yards.²⁴ This leapfrogging now became the standard pattern during an advance. Brigades were rotated rapidly to ensure that relatively fresh men always led, and that no one unit faced the enemy for an extended period. The BEF was looking to keep the Germans off-balance and disoriented. Having suffered successive heavy defeats at Amiens and Albert, Ludendorff decided to withdraw to the Hindenburg Line and the so-called ‘Winter Position’ on which he planned to hold the allied armies throughout the winter of 1918–19. Haig, however, had no intention of allowing the Germans to retreat in an orderly and piecemeal fashion. Realising that although his Third and Fourth Armies were continuing to hurry the Germans backwards this was by no means a walkover, he decided to open a fresh assault further north. This would maintain an even pressure on the Germans by denying them the ability to recover in any one area while also allowing tired British troops to recover from their exertions. Therefore, as the focus shifted northwards to First Army and the Scarpe, operations on Fourth Army front scaled down.²⁵ But, the 6th and 7th Buffs proved that Rawlinson’s men had by no means slipped into total inertia. Advancing side by side on 27 August the 6th RWK and 6th Buffs faced fierce fire from the heights around Maltz Horn Farm Ridge, Favière Wood, and

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A 19 ugu 18 st

La Briqueterie. Artillery fire was brought down on these points, while the Buffs carefully infiltrated into Favière Wood and successfully gained a foothold in the position allowing the 9th R. Fusiliers to clear it the next day. On 29 the advance resumed with the 6th Buffs moving off by companies in artillery formation at 12.30 p.m. Contact with the enemy was gained at Maurepas where the battalion moved to the east infiltrating towards Maurepas station. This tactic paid off once again for the Germans were cut off and two officers and sixty men were captured. They then reported back that German field guns were firing at them over open sights. Communications were working efficiently for the British artillery soon responded and silenced the enemy guns. Ordered to halt, the Buffs tried to find their right flanking unit, troops of the 47 Division. Unknown to the Buffs these troops were still some 2,000 yards in the rear and so they pushed south until they came across the 10 Australian IB at Hill 110. Smeltzer was delighted to provide this explanation when Corps contacted him and huffily asked why he had not secured touch with the right division.²⁶ The 7th Buffs also proved themselves capable of undertaking sophisticated battlefield manoeuvres. On 26 August, the enemy was seen retiring from the spur west of Montauban. The 8th E. Surrey entered Marlborough Wood and began firing on Montauban adding to the artillery shells falling on the village. Using this cover, Captain Whitmarsh advanced his company in section leaps, each covering the other, pushed into the village, captured it, and took sixty prisoners. The brigade diary was lavish in its praise of Whitmarsh: ‘This fighting furnishes a classical example of fire and movement and of allowing an action to proceed

29

Hardecourt Maurepas Station

Map 21. Maurepas, 27–9 August 1918, 6th Buffs.

Maurepas

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Winning, July–November 1918

vigorously where a flank is not in close touch with the flank of the next unit. The men, many of whom were very lately joined, showed the greatest enthusiasm and insight.’²⁷ The 7th Buffs again took up the running for the 18 Division on 1 September advancing in close harmony with the 12 Division. Two days earlier the 47 Division was held up by fire at Priez Farm, and such was the resistance that a formal assault was deemed necessary. The 55 IB came forward to lead the assault with the 8th E. Surrey closely followed by the 7th Buffs with the intention of creating a line facing north-east across the Sailly-Saillesel–Rancourt road which would cut-off the enemy in the Frégicourt–Morval area. The part apportioned to the Buffs was fairly complex. They were to follow the 8th E. Surrey towards the north-west corner of St Pierre Vaast Wood, then form-up while the East Surrey was fighting in the wood and advance north. Ransome decided on caution in terms of manpower commitment, excluding the whole of B company under Captain Whitmarsh from the assault. He then ordered the three remaining companies to advance in platoon columns in order to effect rapid changes of direction. Close contact was maintained with the 8th E. Surrey, and when they entered St Pierre Vaast Wood, the Buffs pressed on to Rancourt where C and D company wheeled round to the north, taking an especially wide sweep to avoid the machine guns still firing at Priez Farm, and occupied the high ground east-north-east of Frégicourt where both companies immediately established observation posts. B company was then brought up to Savernake Wood in the

Morval Sailly– Saillisel Saillisel

Frégicourt

y

8th E. Surre Combles

7th Buffs

Map 22. Sailly-Saillisel, 1 September 1918, 7th Buffs.

St Pierre Vaast Wood

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valley east of Priez Farm and told to prepare for possible exploitation manoeuvres. The Buffs were now well in the rear of the enemy, having advanced around and through the enemy line. From this position they caused panic resulting in a German rush northwards towards Sailly-Saillesel. Many were then shot or captured before they could escape. Taking back the joint bag of the brigade, the Buffs sent 14 officers and nearly 800 men into the prisoner cages.²⁸ With this neat little victory Ransome signed-off his tenure in command of the 7th Buffs handing over to Lieutenant-Colonel H. M. C. Curtis, as he was appointed commander of the 170 IB. Ransome had proved an excellent battalion commander. His levelheaded and no-nonsense attitude made the 7th Buffs an efficient and solid battalion capable of recovering from heavy losses and learning from experience. In just under a month the 6th and 7th Buffs had made enormous progress. Not only had they helped in the capture of many significant enemy positions, but they had also revealed a remarkable ability to adapt to the new circumstances on the Western Front. The first point to note is the sensitivity to the manpower issue. Ransome was particularly keen to husband his manpower leaving behind large numbers of men on both 22 August and 1 September. This gave him the ability to replace casualties quickly and did not fatally undermine the fighting capabilities of the battalion. Intimately connected with this point is the unwillingness to persist in failing attacks, as was shown in the 7th Buffs assault on the Blue Line position on 22 August when operations were suspended until nightfall. Secondly, the Buffs showed an ability to work with different weapons and arms of the service, particularly the Royal Field Artillery. With the situation becoming more fluid and the need to keep the Germans off-balance, divisions could no longer afford to wait for complicated fire plans. Instead, mobile artillery was required to support operations at a local level. The 6th Buffs made contact with their supporting artillery on 27 August and used it to silence the enemy guns at Maurepas, and a similarly improvised barrage was put together on the evening of 22 August at Albert to support the 7th Buffs. Liaison with the Royal Air Force and cavalry was also maintained, as is witnessed by the ammunition drop on the 6th Buffs’ positions on 22 August, and the information gained by cavalry patrol on German withdrawals along the Montauban spur, which gave the 7th Buffs the opportunity to probe along its front. Least effective in terms of delivery were the tanks. Although the Tank Corps’ personnel made great efforts to assist the 12 and 18 Divisions, the tanks’ lack of reliability made them inconsistent performers. Those assigned to assist the Buffs in the suppression of Morlancourt became effective only once the Buffs had nullified a field gun, while the three Whippets supporting the advance on 24 August provided very little help, and there is no evidence that tanks assisted 7th Buffs operations at all. These instruments at the cutting-edge of technology were therefore nowhere near as important as the ‘traditional technology’ of artillery, and the infantryman armed with rifles and automatic weapons.

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The successful integration of these forces, and their rapid reactions to developments is testament to the flexibility and rapidity of staff work at all levels, and a downward devolution of power in the BEF. This process was seen most clearly in the 18 Division. The 55 IB war diary reveals that Brigadier-General Wood was at the joint 8th E. Surrey–7th Buffs headquarters on 22 August in order to monitor events. Thus, when things began to go wrong on the Buffs’ front he was able to talk to Ransome and reassess the situation on the spot. Wood stayed forward to reconnoitre the ground with Ransome in order to prepare for the evening assault.²⁹ A similar situation held sway in the 37 IB where Incledon-Webber attended regular conferences with his battalion commanders between 22 and 26 August establishing an efficient blend capable of maintaining the momentum of the advance.³⁰ Of equal importance was the initiative and enthusiasm shown by all ranks within battalions. As was noted, the Buffs battalions were a mixture of well-seasoned veterans and inexperienced conscripts by 1918, and yet thanks to their training and weapons systems the two fused into an effective fighting force. The British official historian was largely critical of the quality of junior leadership during the ‘100 Days’, but the role of the Buffs in August can be used to dispel this idea.³¹ Captain Whitmarsh clearly displayed a good deal of initiative and skill when he captured Montauban, as did the men of the 6th Buffs when they suppressed a field gun at Morlancourt, infiltrated Favière Wood, and outflanked Maurepas. Referring to the period in which Montauban was captured the 55 IB war diary noted the days of ‘real open fighting’ and added that there were, ‘days when infantry skirmished and artillery galloped forward into action in field-day fashion. Leaders and men of all arms seemed to be ready for these fresh conditions and lost no opportunity of harassing and killing Huns through “being slow in the uptake”.’³² With a distinct phase of operations drawing to its end, and a new one about to commence, the Buffs took stock of the situation. Smeltzer congratulated all ranks in the 6th Buffs, but also called a meeting of all officers to discuss ‘lessons to be learned from recent fighting’.³³ Fighting strengths had certainly dwindled; that of the 6th Buffs was down to 15 officers and 366 OR on 5 September. Seven officers had reported for duty on 30 August including the hugely experienced Captain C. D. Gullick, formerly of 8th Buffs, which did at least provide Smeltzer with some assistance. The 7th Buffs was supplemented in August with two large drafts of miners and munitions workers, but these needed to be worked up into an efficient unit.³⁴ Major-General Lee held a conference on training in September at which the glaring deficiencies in the new recruits was made clear. It was emphasised that all needed much drill and lectures to inform them of their role. Of particular concern was the alarming rise in self-inflicted wounds, mostly caused by sheer ignorance of the weapons. All battalions were also urged to pay special attention to tank co-operation and leapfrogging manoeuvres in training. Finally, battalions were instructed to reorganise into proper platoons and companies, as many had sunk to cadre strength.³⁵

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The Germans went into full retreat on 3 September scuttling back towards the Hindenburg Line in a neatly planned and executed withdrawal. The British pursued them, and on 7 September the 6th Buffs took part in an assault designed to take a line east of Épehy and Peizières. Heavy machine gun fire from the high ground west of Guyencourt and Saulcourt Wood held up their advance, but showing close collaboration with the supporting artillery units, the Buffs waited while A Battery of the 63 Royal Field Artillery brigade silenced the position before advancing. Guyencourt was soon cleared and the second objective, a line of trenches east of the village, was captured. Patrols were then sent out to maintain contact with the retreating enemy.³⁶ At this point the British paused in order to prepare for their next move. Intelligence reports coming through to Haig and Rawlinson suggested that enemy strength on Fourth Army front was relatively low. However, there was a formidable tangle of positions in front of Rawlinson’s forces consisting of the three pre-March 1918 British lines and three German lines. A key position in the German line was the St Quentin Canal that would force the British to cross a deep cutting. A chink in its armour was the fact that it lay in a valley and thus required a forward defence to stop the British bringing artillery to bear. This forward defence consisted of a chain of fortified villages stretching across III Corps’ front from Peizières in the north through Épehy, Basse Boulogne, Lempire, la Paurelle, to Ronssoy in the south garrisoned by the best troops available, the Alpine Corps, and the 2 Guards Division. Further south, IX Corps was faced with the village fortress of Selency and the Quadrilateral. Rawlinson decided that in order to make headway a large-scale and thoroughly planned attack was necessary. He intended to combine his artillery and manpower superiority in an overwhelming assault designed to bring Fourth Army up to the threshold of the Hindenburg Line, which he scheduled to commence on 18 September.³⁷ All three Buffs battalions were allotted a role in this operation. In the north the 12 Division was detailed to capture Épehy. Immediately to its south the 18 Division was ordered to take Ronssoy; while at the southernmost end of Fourth Army’s front the 6 Division was assigned the capture of Selency and the Quadrilateral.³⁸ These were no simple tasks, and all proved very difficult objectives. Smeltzer attended a divisional conference on 9 September where he was instructed to commence training for the trench-to-trench fighting expected in the assault.³⁹ As has been noted, the 7th Buffs also finalised and embarked upon a training schedule in this period. The unit with the toughest challenge was the 1st Buffs on the southern flank where the British forces made contact with the First French Army. No one was quite sure what co-operation the French would provide, and in addition, in the days before the attack the 6 Division had been unable to achieve a good starting line which greatly hampered effective reconnaissance of the objectives. At 5.20 a.m. on 18 September the assault began in hard rain and mist that interfered with the work of the RAF’s contact patrols and artillery direction. On 6 Division’s front the day was the last faint, awful echo of two years earlier against

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Gricourt

Elements drift towards Quadrilateral

Kirchner Copse

Buffs L (nigh ine t fall)

Fresnoy le Petit

Quadrilateral

gne mpa Cha ench Tr

Elements move too far towards Quadrilateral

Badger Copse Trout Copse

Holnon

Selency

Map 23. Quadrilateral, Fresnoy, 18 September 1918, 1st Buffs.

another Quadrilateral. The French did not put up much covering fire leaving the British troops to advance against very strong positions. The plan was for the 71 IB on the right and the 16 IB on the left to advance through the Quadrilateral. This redoubt was a formidable position dominating the top of a hill and two tanks were allotted to the attack, but one failed to start while the other was last seen entering Fresnoy before contact was lost. The 2nd York and Lancs was detailed to lead the assault and then the Buffs and 1st KSLI were to follow through and on to the next objective. By 6.40 a.m. it appeared that the 2nd York and Lancs had captured their objective, which cleared the way for the assault by A, B, and C companies of the 1st Buffs. Shells fell among them as they moved forward from the assembly position and then direction was soon lost. ‘Owing to smoke and darkness there was a good deal of loss of direction, part of A coy getting as far right as the Quadrilateral and other platoons getting rather to the left.’⁴⁰ As the 1st Buffs advanced they found that the 2nd York and Lancs had not quite taken all of their

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objectives and machine gun fire from Fresnoy brought them to a halt. The 1st KSLI and 1st Buffs could make no further advance and held on to the ground already won. Elements of the right company did manage to make it up to the high ground overlooking the Quadrilateral, but were in no position to push the advance. The support company then came up and reached the outskirts of Fresnoy, but it too was held up, and the left front company took a position facing north in Bugeaud Alley, but fire from Fresnoy forced it to move into the line Champagne Trench–Kirchner Copse–Buguead Alley. Things had gone badly wrong, and by 8.15 a.m. there was still no contact with the 71 IB on the right. D company was therefore ordered into Trout Copse on the right to watch the flank. One platoon was detached and sent to A company with a view to protecting the northern right flank. The war diary lists the principle problems of the day as the machine gun fire from Fresnoy cemetery and high ground, the fire from the Quadrilateral, and the loss of direction caused by fog and smoke. At 1 p.m. the battalion was ordered to withdraw into a sunken road near Badger Copse. During the evening orders were received detailing the remnants of the 16 IB to form three composite battalions, which says something about the casualties and chaos. The battalion suffered 6 officers and 150 men killed and wounded, and it placed a good deal of strain on the survivors.⁴¹ Corporal Brain, only recently returned after recovering from wounds, recorded in his diary that the ‘boys were raven [sic] wild’ when told to advance the next day, ‘but over we went we advanced to a village [Fresnoy] and took a line of trenches we heald [sic] on to those till we were relevead [sic] on the Sunday night’.⁴² The failure to take the Quadrilateral reveals that in trench warfare with no flanks a redoubt could be taken only by the accurate and well-executed combination of artillery and infantry. Cheap victories were still a rarity in the autumn of 1918. Brigadier-General Walker admitted as much in his post-action report. He blamed inadequate reconnaissance time, a poor starting line, the late arrival of orders, and a general lack of knowledge of the battlefield.⁴³ This lack of knowledge was partly due to the poor weather that grounded the RAF and prevented aerial reconnaissance, a vital factor especially as the German positions were very well camouflaged. Deprived of their usual advantages, and unable to influence the French, the 6 Division had been forced to assault in a manner reminiscent of the early stages of the Somme. However, there was one bright point. Walker was full of praise for his junior officers stating that the successes were ‘due largely to the initiative and enterprise of junior leaders of the 1st KSLI and 1st Buffs’.⁴⁴ Forced to reassess the situation, Rawlinson called a halt to operations against this fortress until full preparations for a renewed assault could be completed. The Quadrilateral was then finally taken on 25 September. It was a significant tactical victory for captured German officers ‘admitted that they had fully expected to be able to hold it indefinitely’.⁴⁵ Placed at the other extreme of Fourth Army’s front, the 12 and 18 Divisions prepared to attack the strong points covering the Main Hindenburg Positions and

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the canal line. On the 12 Division’s front the 36 IB was detailed to make the initial assault taking Malassise Farm on the right, while on the left the 35 IB was to take the large village of Épehy. With both positions cleared the 37 IB was to move through and capture Priel Farm and clear the maze of trenches as far as Kildare Post, some two miles east of Épehy. This was a very tough task, and required the BEF’s hard-won trench fighting skills. The right assault advanced well, but was unable to take Malassise Farm. On the left the southern end of Épehy was taken, but its central defensive position of Fisher Keep proved a tough obstacle. A renewed assault eventually overran the keep, and brought the brigade through to the northern end of the village. This stubborn German resistance forced a change of plan for the 37 IB was sent forward to assist with mopping up and suppressing pockets of resistance rather than pressing on to the final objectives. The 6th Buffs and 6th Queen’s were therefore directed to attack trenches covering Épehy and were covered by a barrage. Fierce German machine gun fire met the attacks, and it took dogged fighting before the objectives could be gained, with Smeltzer’s men taking Old Copse by outflanking it. By the end of the day the division had broken into the enemy positions, but was by no means in a comfortable position.⁴⁶ Immediately alongside Higginson’s men was the 18 Division with the task of taking the southern side of the Ronssoy spur, and then outflanking the village by moving across its southern and eastern edge with tanks. At this point it was to pause and wait for a fresh barrage as a preliminary to a second advance to Lempire and then on again towards the canal. Major-General Lee had protested that the timings between the barrages were too short and did not allow enough time to clear Ronssoy or get the 55 IB forward for the second and final phases of the assault. These objections were overruled, and Lee was forced to accept the Corps timetable. The assault commenced with the 7th RWK, which promptly lost the direction of the barrage in the rain and mist, but with the aid of tanks advanced into Ronssoy, although resistance in the village proved very stubborn as Lee predicted. The 11th R. Fusiliers and 6th Northants then came through and took Ronssoy Wood and Basse Boulogne before making contact with the flanking units of the 12 Division to the north and the 74 Division to the south. By this stage the 55 IB had fallen dramatically behind schedule. Free passage through Ronssoy was impossible and units moving through the village were forced to mop up as they went. Brigadier Wood himself took some men prisoner by throwing stones into a dugout and forcing out the occupants. Showing that command had devolved significantly, and was now conducted from well forward, Wood took up positions with the 8th E. Surrey and 7th Buffs and assessed the situation. He contacted divisional headquarters and arranged a fresh assault for 5 p.m. with the intention of getting into X, Y, and Z Copses to the east of Ronssoy and Basse Boulogne. The 7th Queen’s and 7th Buffs led the assault, but fire from the unsuppressed Lempire made it impossible to advance to the final objectives, and the two battalions helped form a defensive line in front of Ronssoy.⁴⁷

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Vendhuile

Kildare Post

Little Priel Farm 6th Buffs 29 Sept.

Malassise Farm

30 Sept.

Ronssoy 18 Division

Sart Farm

Basse Boulogne

German Lines

Map 24. Battle of Épehy, 18–30 September 1918, 6th and 7th Buffs.

anal

X Copse Y Copse Z Copse

V urt co

uin

cq

Ma

Lempire

12 Division

alle

The Knoll

St Quentin C

y

Old Copse

37 1B Objectives 18th Sept. 6th Buffs 18–24 Sept. 7th Buffs 29–30 Sept. 7th Buffs 18 Sept.

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Épehy

Quarries

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By the evening of 18 September Rawlinson was looking at a broadly encouraging scenario. His forces had advanced well in the centre, and only the flanking units had faced a particularly tough day. Plans were made to continue with the operations on the following day. On III Corps front, Butler ordered his divisions to create a more unified line and suppress strong points: in effect to complete the tasks of the previous day. Higginson therefore ordered 37 IB to take Malassise Farm and a line stretching from Mule Trench, through Bird Trench to Braeton Post. The 6th Queen’s duly took Malassise Farm, thus removing a particularly nasty obstacle, while the 6th Buffs attempted to gain Braeton Post and Bird Trench. Strong machine gun opposition was encountered and so Smeltzer ordered a halt some 100 yards short of the final objective.⁴⁸ The 7th Buffs was in a similar situation. Ordered to attack Y and Z copses, Curtis responded by sending out strong patrols to infiltrate the positions. When these returned reporting heavy machine gun fire he simply held his position.⁴⁹ Distinct similarities can be seen between Smeltzer’s and Curtis’s responses. Both men were clearly husbanding their manpower and were by no means prepared to press attacks when the situation looked unfavourable. This marked a very different approach to the assaults on the Somme in 1916. On 20 September the 7th Buffs established posts in Y and Z copses, but was forced to abandon them later in the day. Over the next two days the 53 and 54 IBs attacked and made slow progress through the web of German defences inching the division towards the Main Hindenburg Positions. This phase of operations then came to a conclusion on 24 September when the 7th Buffs attempted to infiltrated Gillemont Farm, but found it held strongly and so returned.⁵⁰ To the north D company of the 6th Buffs assisted the 6th RWK with an assault during the night of 21/22 September aiming to wrest Bird Trench and Patrick’s Avenue from the enemy. The Alpine Division troops manning these positions held out, but succumbed to a second attack made later in the day.⁵¹ When Rawlinson called an end to the Battle of Épehy he was in a good position to begin his next round of operations. In the north, however, III Corps had not gained the starting line he had hoped for. Playing the Cinderella role of flank protection, and therefore somewhat overlooked in the main preparations, compounded by the fact that it was attacking a complex web of fortresses, trenches, and redoubts, the Corps had undoubtedly been given a very tricky task. These difficulties appear to have been complicated still further by Butler’s command style. As Harris and Barr have demonstrated, Rawlinson was increasingly concerned by Butler’s approach, and believed his planning for 18 September was overly confused and complicated.⁵² The failures of the 12 and 18 Divisions to take their objectives can be partly explained by this confusion—Lee clearly had reasonable objections to the plan, but was forced to conform. Of greater significance was the inability of the artillery to meet all the tasks required. On the plus side it suppressed the enemy artillery well, but lacking full preparation time and a good aerial view of the battlefield it was unable to assist in nullifying some vital enemy machine gun positions. As has been shown, the Buffs were more than

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capable of outflanking and infiltrating German positions, but in a full trench system with little room for manoeuvre, the emphasis was back on the artillery to provide the vital kick-start to an assault. Rawlinson relieved III Corps on 24 September and replaced it with the fresh US II Corps, which he planned to include in his new assault. However, the failure of III Corps to achieve all its objectives meant that the Americans were forced into preliminary operations to gain a good starting line. Rawlinson’s plan was to break through the Main Hindenburg Positions with III Corps given the task of northern flank guard once again by taking the high ground south-west of Vendhuile close to the point where the St Quentin canal went into the Bellicourt tunnel. Realising that the tunnel might provide a bridge into their main system, the Germans were defending it with a string of fortified villages starting at Bellenglise in the extreme south through to Bellicourt at the southern end of the tunnel and terminating at Bony at the northern end. The Americans began their attempts to improve their positions with an assault on 26 September designed to bring them closer to the canal. The attack was a terrible failure with Gillemont and Quennenmont Farms putting up stubborn resistance. Some US troops were reported as penetrating this line, but this proved a mix blessing as US commanders were now loathe to shell the area in case they killed their own men. Erring on the side of caution, as they did, was not a wise idea for it immediately watered down the counter-battery programme.⁵³ The 12 Division was once again the northernmost flank guard and the 18 Division was instructed to assist the Americans.⁵⁴ Higginson was ordered to fulfil his task by attacking the outer Hindenburg defences and push on to the west bank of the canal. The 37 IB led with the 6th Buffs on the right and 6th RWK on the left. A short barrage preceded the zero hour of 5 a.m. on 29 September, and the advance was soon met with a hail of machine gun fire particularly from the cluster of quarries on the south-western corner of Vendhuile. Smeltzer came forward and personally directed the assault, co-ordinating the movements of his men with the machine gun units and the field artillery, which is a good indication that communications were working well. This provided Lieutenant Field with the opportunity to make a flank attack on the quarries and resulted in the capture of 150 men and 40 machine guns.⁵⁵ During the course of the next day the battalion worked forward, and got down to the canal bank and into the western outskirts of Vendhuile. While working through the outskirts they were attacked by an American tank. Sergeant-Major Smith rushed up to the tank and beat the front plate with his rifle in order to attract the attention of the crew. The tank responded, and the advance continued. The 6th Buffs were therefore involved in another tough fight, but had made good progress, and had been led with firmness and skill.⁵⁶ Matters were a lot less clear on the 18 Division front where the 55 IB was awaiting news of the Americans and Australians. For unexplained reasons the Americans decided to dispense with a creeping barrage and rely on tanks. This awful omission presented the German defenders with the opportunity to defeat the American advance in detail. With immense gallantry the American troops

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attempted to break into the German line, but barely dented it. Backing-up the Americans and originally detailed to exploit their success were the Australians, but they were now dragged into the struggle to take the still unsuppressed Gillemont and Quennenmont Farms, and the high ground of the Knoll that dominated the ground stretching north and south. After a desperate day’s close fighting the Americans and Australians managed to wrest the farms from the Germans, and establish themselves on the western slopes of the Knoll.⁵⁷ The 55 IB had been detailed to assist in the taking of the high ground north of the Knoll overlooking Vendhuile and then advance along the Macquincourt valley behind the Knoll and on into Vendhuile. At 8.45 a.m. it was erroneously reported by divisional headquarters that the Americans were progressing well. Suspicious of sending his men forward without personal confirmation, Wood sent his brigade major and some troops of the 7th Queen’s out on a reconnaissance. On their way forward they met the GSO1 (the senior staff officer) of the 18 Division who was also trying to assess the situation. They proceeded together and found that the enemy was still holding its positions. Wood immediately called a conference of his battalion commanders. He stated his intention of maintaining close contact with the Australians and redirecting the brigade to an attack on Gillemont Farm leaving the 54 IB to take on Vendhuile. These plans were then made redundant by events as the farm finally fell, and an order from divisional headquarters that stated that one battalion should make for the Knoll, sweep round it into the German rear, and push towards Vendhuile. Such orders were, however, far less realistic than Wood’s original intentions, as the situation on the Knoll was still very confused. Curtis was detailed to take on this task, and did so with a great degree of caution. It is tempting to assume that this was with Wood’s full knowledge and understanding. The 7th Buffs therefore moved through the trenches towards the Knoll very carefully and deliberately, but soon attracted fire. This gave Curtis the justification he required to declare the situation confused and hold his position.⁵⁸ By contrast, in the centre of Rawlinson’s attacks events had unfolded very favourably for the allies, and the 46 Division was over the formidable obstacle of the St Quentin Canal. A major blow had been struck against Germany’s most complete and intricate set of defences on the Western Front.⁵⁹ This success caused a degree of panic in the German command and resulted in the decision to retreat. As this decision was enacted it caused resistance to weaken on other sectors, which clearly assisted the 18 Division the next day, for the 7th Buffs commenced patrolling towards the Macquincourt valley, and the 54 IB reported Vendhuile evacuated. Wood immediately ordered the Buffs ‘to make whatever ground they could’ in the valley, and the 8th E. Surrey to move towards Vendhuile. These manoeuvres were completed, and a defensive screen was put up across the southern end of Vendhuile to protect it from any German counter-attacks from the Main Hindenburg Positions.⁶⁰ Their tasks complete the 12 and 18 Divisions were rested, but the pressure on the Germans was maintained: the BEF was cracking the art of sustaining an offensive.

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Studying the situation carefully, Haig saw that the most dramatic results could be achieved by continuing the assault in the BEF’s centre using the Third and Fourth Armies which would push the Germans back beyond the Schelde, clear Cambrai and bring the British to the threshold of Belgium. Deciding to play things relatively safe, Rawlinson opted to postpone the battle forty-eight hours till the 8 October in order to allow both his gunners and General Byng’s Third Army more time to prepare.⁶¹ The 6 Division was back in the line as part of IX Corps, and once again the 1st Buffs was allotted the task of southern flank protection. The battalions of the 6 Division, including the Buffs, had all been busy absorbing new recruits sent forward to fill the gaps caused by the hard struggle for the Quadrilateral.⁶² Only four days were assigned to this process meaning that battalion commanders, officers, and NCOs had to show remarkable mental flexibility in order to integrate the fresh additions. It was widely agreed that Major-General Marden had a difficult task on his hands. The ground his troops were to take was marked by valleys and spurs littered with woods. It was therefore not ideal tank country, and artillery observation could be tricky. In addition, no one had much faith in the French providing any sort of worthwhile assistance.⁶³ Falling in line with general British military practice during this period, Marden decided not to take any chances with his precious infantry. He broke his assault into small pieces, each one dependent on the success of the other. If no clear advance was achieved, the plan was simply to come to a halt. His first decision was to exclude the Sequehart valley in the initial assault and to screen the Méricourt ridge with smoke leaving the infantry with the task of advancing to Méricourt village and securing the northernmost portion of the ridge. An impressive number of artillery pieces and shells were brought forward to support the attack, and the 6 Division’s post-war printed history paid tribute to this fact referring to the ‘immense’ weight of artillery.⁶⁴ Whippet tanks were then added to the plan as cover, and the 139 IB, detached from the 46 Division, was assigned the job of screening the flank if the French advance did not go according to plan.⁶⁵ The 1st Buffs was detailed to take part in the second phase of the assault, passing through the 1st KSLI and advancing to Beauregard Farm on the ridge behind Méricourt village, and the rising ground beyond it. Lieutenant-Colonel Power reverted to an older attack formation for this operation detailing B and D companies to advance on a two-platoon frontage in two waves with C company plus two platoons of A in support. Realising the dangers of fighting in this country with its broad, open fields that gave good firing lines for defenders hidden in the many copses and sunken roads, Power stated that ‘special parties must be told off from the support company to mop up’. On the surface this bears some resemblance to the attacks made in 1916 and 1917, but the enormous advances made by the BEF come to the fore in Power’s instructions on equipment. Each company was to take seventy-two rifle grenades, and fifty Lewis guns.⁶⁶ The free availability of automatic firepower had given the 1st Buffs a tremendous punch. Before action officers carefully informed the men of their tasks. Corporal Brain’s

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diary records Lieutenant Carter’s briefing; ‘after he had finished with us we went back and told our men all we could about what was going to happen.’⁶⁷ As the battalion moved off in the early hours of 8 October some difficulties were experienced due to the dark night, and sporadic German shelling which killed Lieutenant Carter. The 1st KSLI attack went off on time, and the Buffs moved through them as planned taking Beauregard Copse, but further movement was tricky because of superior German observation. The scenario altered drastically in the afternoon when the French overcame opposition in the south thus clearing the way for free forward movement; the Buffs reacted rapidly and moved on to their final objective. By evening Méricourt had fallen, and the whole brigade was on its final objectives.⁶⁸ Showing remarkable swiftness and flexibility, the divisional and brigade staffs then made plans to leap the entire line forward to the town of Bohain, as patrols reported a German retreat. On arrival in Bohain the troops were delighted to find a warm welcome from the newly liberated French civilians.⁶⁹ Reflecting on the advance, Walker found much to praise: ‘The action was more in the nature of open warfare than any operation the Brigade has participated in since 1914, and I regard it from many points as the most satisfactory during my period of command.’⁷⁰ Another major defeat had been inflicted on the Germans, and that night the high command took the decision to retreat to the east bank of the Selle, and the Hermann Position I.⁷¹ Although they suffered few casualties, the 1st Buffs was stripped of some important personnel during this action. The experienced Captains Hamilton and Moss were both wounded, and it proved their last involvement in the conflict. Corporal Brain, who had not long returned to the battalion, was wounded again. His diary reveals the way such gaps were filled, for when he was forced to leave the battlefield his friend, Private Gill, told him not to worry as he would take charge and look after his men. Battalions survived thanks to these networks of experience, trust, and friendship.⁷² Fourth Army moved to the pursuit, but found it a difficult task thanks to the systematic destruction of roads and bridges by the retreating Germans. As all available muscle was put to work ensuring the logistics of the Army, Rawlinson’s staff began plans for the next strike across the River Selle, with operations scheduled to recommence on 17 October, and IX Corps detailed to protect the flank. The 6 Division advanced carefully through the German rearguards and moved towards the town of Vaux Andigny on an important east–west railway line, in the process they moved away from the Corps’ flank, which was now provided by the 46 Division. 6 Division’s role was to take Belle Vue ridge and a line from Andigny les Fermes to the Corps’ boundary near the Molain road. Preparations for the assault were hindered by low cloud which interfered with the RAF’s reconnaissance missions, and a lack of good maps of the area.⁷³ Then, on the eve of the assault, Walker had his arm blown off by a German shell while out on a reconnaissance, which resulted in Brigadier-General Brown of the 71 IB taking temporary charge. At the same time the Germans began shelling the forming up positions in Vaux Andigny with gas adding to the problems caused by the very thick fog.⁷⁴

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By zero hour the fog was so thick that the commander of the 11th Essex sent his men forward with linked arms, but many still got lost and drifted to the south. A further indication of its thickness was provided when Regnicourt, a 46 Division objective, was taken by a mixed bag of soldiers from three divisions (1, 6, and 46) who almost stumbled upon it by accident.⁷⁵ Things were slightly easier on the 1st Buffs front where the railway line acted as a good marker. Advancing once again on a two-company front, the battalion made good progress under a barrage described as ‘excellent’. By 7.30 a.m. C company was on its first objective, but could find no sign of the 11th Essex. Lieutenant Stainforth decided not to press on until he was sure the position could be held, and so waited until advanced troops of the leapfrogging 1 Division came up before ordering a further advance. He then pressed on to the final objective and immediately made preparations to repel any counter-attack. Two hundred prisoners were taken, as the Germans were rapidly outflanked by the Buffs who had turned the fog to their advantage.⁷⁶ The 1st Buffs therefore played its part in a highly successful day for IX Corps, the only Corps to reach all its objectives. Now only the River Sambre provided a significant barrier to the BEF’s advance. The 1st Buffs’ role in the Great War reached its conclusion just over a week later when the battalion was ordered to straighten the division’s line on the Sambre canal as a preliminary to its relief by the 1 Division. To achieve this two strongly defended farmhouses on the Happegardes spur had to be taken, and the task fell to Lieutenant Barber of the 1st Buffs. Barber was given B and C companies, a section of the Divisional Machine Gun battalion, and two light mortars to assist in the assault. At 6 a.m. on 30 October a creeping barrage was laid down and the attacking units moved off. Two platoons advanced on the farm, while two others moved to the flank to provide covering fire. Determined opposition from the Germans made the advance slow, and it took until 10 a.m. to clear the farm buildings. However, the Germans had not yet given up all hope, and aware that the position gave good observation over the canal arranged a counter-attack that drove out the Buffs. Barber’s men retired from the farm buildings, but no further and held their positions as the Germans attempted to clear them from the ridge completely. Power ordered up D company and detailed them to attack under the cover of a hastily arranged mortar barrage. This proved successful as D company swept through with fixed bayonets. Having unlocked the key to the ridge, the Buffs moved on and commenced mopping up in the village before being relieved that evening.⁷⁷ Remarking on this final action in 1922, R. S. H. Moody, historian of the Buffs, highlighted the scale of operations on the Western Front when he commented: The 30th of October was the last day of actual fighting that fell to the lot of the 1st Battalion, and its long record, which as far as the Great War is concerned began four years before, closed well and gloriously, for what is termed a minor enterprise was on that date carried out under the command of a subaltern officer, an enterprise which in the old days would have made a field officer’s name for the rest of his service.⁷⁸

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This last assault revealed the flexibility and weapons systems of the BEF in 1918. Barber was supported by artillery, and was able to call upon heavy machine gun units and mortars to act in direct support, as well as the Lewis guns, rifle grenades, and rifles of his own men; communications were maintained with his commanding officer allowing for rapid reinforcement at a significant moment. Finally, and crucially, although this highlighted a force that had undergone large-scale changes in personnel, attitude, and equipment, the traditional spirit of the BEF was still a vital ingredient for the position was carried by a resolute charge with fixed bayonets. The BEF did not need to swap a psychological paradigm for a technological one, as Tim Travers has argued; rather, as has been stated before, it needed a combination of the two. The 6th and 7th Buffs were also rapidly approaching their final involvements in the conflict. The 12 Division had been transferred to the VIII Corps in First Army on 30 September, and had travelled north to take up a new position. First Army was following-up the withdrawals of the German Sixth and Seventeenth Armies as they were gradually falling back to the Haute Deule Canal with the intention of retreating still further if pushed to the east bank of the Schelde and a line in front of Valenciennes.⁷⁹ On 6 October, the 6th Buffs returned to the trenches, and soon began pushing out patrols probing the enemy positions. Encountering crumbling resistance, the 6th Buffs advanced 1,000 yards on 9 taking a new line at Molly Villers, and the division crossed the much-vaunted Drocourt–Quéant line a few days later without too much difficulty.⁸⁰ The 6th Buffs led the brigade again on 20 October when they passed through the 6th RWK, managed a 14,000-yard advance to Beuvry, and released hundreds of civilians in the process.⁸¹ Three days later the Buffs resumed the leading role and took Cubray, inflicting ‘heavy casualties’ on the enemy.⁸² Realising that only a thin screen was in front of him, Smeltzer organised a rapid night movement and smashed through to the village of Haute Rive. Maintaining the impetus he ordered another attack on the morning of 24 October sending forward Lewis gun teams to establish positions in the village of Buridon. Using their fire, controlled and directed by Sergeant Pennell, Smeltzer was able to overrun the position in short time. Refusing to rest on his laurels, he dashed on and snatched Bruille on the banks of the Schelde canal, taking the enemy by surprise, the majority of whom were captured while still eating their breakfasts.⁸³ Major-General Scott later wrote: ‘Great credit is due for this masterly stroke, which turned the German position between the two rivers, and caused the opposition on the left to be withdrawn.’⁸⁴ Two days later the brigade was relieved, and the men of the 6th Buffs had reached the end of their war. The 18 Division had also been withdrawn from III Corps at the end of September and directed to XIII Corps. Like the 6 and 12 Divisions, it was given a brief period in which to absorb new recruits and reorganise. By 19 October, the 7th Buffs stood at a paper strength of 47 officers and 813 OR, but it is highly unlikely that Curtis would have declared many of these men ready for operations.⁸⁵ The tactical situation in front of the battalion was complex and

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demanded skilled troops. As the 1st Buffs had found at Happergardes, much smaller fields intersected with thick hedgerows that lessened visibility and provided excellent hiding places for the defenders now marked the countryside, placing great emphasis on careful stalking and outmanoeuvring of positions. This factor influenced training in October for the battalion’s war diary records schedules in which they ‘practised new attack formations and methods; pressing home with strength on weak points of defence and thereby outflanking any strong position. Many lessons learnt and noted’.⁸⁶ The division was then assigned to play a part in the last stages of the Battle of the Selle, as Fourth Army bore down on the Forest of Mormal on its left and the Sambre and Oise canals on its right. Ordered to resume operations on 23 October, the 55 IB was detailed to pass through 54 IB and advance to Bousies.⁸⁷ As the 7th Buffs formed up for the assault it was harassed by machine gun fire, but this was soon silenced by RAF bombing. The Buffs then began their advance taking Epinette Farm, the brigade’s third objective, and two batteries of field guns, which were captured in outflanking manoeuvres. Resistance began to stiffen at this point, and the timetable collapsed. However, momentum was maintained, and co-operation between all-arms was vital for the RAF contact aircraft dropped a note telling the Buffs that the Germans were still holding Bousies, but that British troops had entered its eastern perimeter. Curtis now ordered the experienced Captain Whitmarsh forward, his other experienced leader, Captain Morse, having been wounded. Whitmarsh liaised with Lieutenant Grey of the supporting tank unit and established that troops from A company had got into Bousies with tanks and were busy clearing the village. By mid-afternoon Bousies was subdued, and patrols were sent out to find flanking units. Curtis then ordered his men forward to occupy sunken roads on the farther side of Bousies, doubtless to protect them from any retaliatory fire on the village, and to provide a forward guard against counter-attack.⁸⁸ The brigade narrative was fulsome in its praise of the Buffs and 8th E. Surrey, likening the action to a ‘Codford Field Day’, and stating that: ‘Great credit is due to the leadership shown by all officers and NCOs of 7th Buffs and 8th East Surrey Regt and to the excellent co-operation of all arms.’⁸⁹ A great success had been achieved, but it is doubtful that it was performed by the bulk of Curtis’ troops. C company consisted of no more than a hundred or so rifles, and so it is likely that Curtis relied upon a sophisticated combination of experienced men able to deploy large numbers of Lewis guns and rifle grenades, and artillery, tanks, and aircraft.⁹⁰ Having achieved another victory, Haig’s staff now planned a grand, knockout blow combining the weight of First, Third, and Fourth Armies. Operations on Third and Fourth Army fronts were becoming increasingly tricky due to the stretched logistics of the BEF, and the countryside criss-crossed with hedgerows that obscured artillery observation. XIII Corps’ role in the Battle of the Sambre was to establish a position in the Forest of Mormal with the intention of providing a good starting point for a further advance to the Sambre and Oise canals.⁹¹ The 55 IB was once again the final bounce in the 18 Division’s leapfrog with orders to

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sweep the forest and move systematically along its rides. Particular attention was paid to the question of the forest, as it was feared that the Germans would use its rides and walks as traps. It was therefore decided that the attacking units were to move in short bounds from plantation to plantation, each providing the other with covering Lewis gun, machine gun, and rifle fire. When the assault commenced on the morning of 4 November, the 53 and 54 IBs soon fell behind schedule, but the 18 Division, like much of the BEF, had perfected a masterful combination of caution and tempo. The 55 IB therefore waited patiently for the opposition around Hecq and Preux to break down before commencing its advance. The 7th Queen’s took the left, the 7th Buffs the centre, and the 8th E. Surrey’s the right. Curtis had rearranged his battle surplus before the operation and probably brought forward his most experienced men once again. At first resistance was tough, but soon began to crack and the forward companies got into the Forest fairly easily. They advanced exactly according to plan, platoons going to the flank and bounding forward into each rectangular plantation clearing the way for the frontal movement. Far from using the rides to aid their defence, the Germans appeared to melt away rather easily and their clearing operations greatly assisted command and control. Lieutenant-Colonel Irwin, of the 8th E. Surrey’s and temporarily in command of the brigade, then allowed two armoured cars to take the lead with orders to scatter any remaining pockets of enemy resistance.⁹² The Battle of the Sambre proved a knockout blow. The Germans were comprehensively beaten, and were retreating in many places by sundown on 4 November.⁹³ Wishing to maintain the momentum, orders came through to continue the advance next day. The 8th E. Surrey and Buffs soon reached Sassegnies on the western side of the Sambre canal, and sent out patrols along the canal side, but found that all crossings were blown. The next day the Buffs were pulled back to Preux in pouring rain and bitter cold and detailed to remain on the alert in case of counter-attack. It was the battalion’s last day in an active role: five days later the Armistice came into effect.⁹⁴ The 1st, 6th, and 7th Buffs therefore took a full part in the BEF’s triumphs of 1918. Victory had crowned their efforts, but playing a role in this great advance was by no means cheap for the Buffs. Across the three battalions at least 90 officers became casualties, and at least 1,585 OR (including 486 OR fatalities).⁹⁵ The casualty figures highlight the fact that the victory was gained by much hard fighting, resolution, and skill. Identifying the secrets of success reveals a subtle combination of factors. First, the BEF’s training schedules and methods paid off in full. The Buffs proved that the infantry was capable of facing many scenarios thanks to its tactical knowledge. Training continued to evolve in 1918, and there was room for innovation and experiments, as shown in the trial reorganisation of Lewis gun squads in the 6th Buffs. That the introduction of so many sketchily trained men combed-out of civilian occupations in Britain did not upset this delicate balance is testimony to the influence and leadership skills of the core of experienced officers, NCOs, and men left in all three battalions. Edmonds was highly critical of the junior leadership and training of men in his concluding

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thoughts on the ‘100 Days’. He stated that many opportunities were lost due to rigid attitudes and an obsession with securing flanks, which he contrasted unfavourably with the ‘fluid’ German infiltration tactics.⁹⁶ There is some justification for this, and a 37 IB report on recent operations dated 28 October 1918 lends weight to Edmonds’ thesis by its comment on the insufficient training in open warfare, indifferent map reading skills of some officers and NCOs, and the need to provide self-protection along flanks rather than look to others for assistance.⁹⁷ However, his judgement does seem overly critical in the light of the Buffs’ experiences. First, flanks continued to be vital. Unsuppressed machine guns and enemy strong points endangered whole advances. As has been shown, the Buffs often had very good reason to worry about failures on their flanks, particularly when rapid reaction from heavy artillery could not be relied upon. Second, junior officers and inexperienced troops working alongside the core of seasoned men were capable of sophisticated manoeuvre, infiltration, and stalking tactics, as was evidenced by the capture of Montauban, Maurepas, and Sailly-Saillesel in particular. Leadership and communication had certainly undergone a revolution. Brigadiers and battalion commanders were well forward and in close contact throughout operations. Ransome’s relationship with Brigadier-General Wood exemplifies this process. As operations became more fluid, both men were given the chance to exercise their own initiative and authority far more effectively. They improvised new plans, countermanded redundant or inoperable orders, and maintained command and control. In return, the higher command supported this devolution, rarely interfered in local decision-making, and provided the vital logistical support required to ensure continuing success.⁹⁸ It is also clear that brigadiers and battalion commanders recognised that efficiency lay in dividing certain tasks and responsibilities. For instance, the 37 IB noted the value of placing a battery of 18-pounders under a battalion commander, but emphasised that heavier artillery had to remain under the control of divisions because it required so much more staff work to support it.⁹⁹ Weapons were now available in quantity and quality, and the Buffs proved capable both of deploying their own systems, and of working in harmony with those controlled by brigade, division, and corps. A good instance is provided by the 7th Buffs’ assault on Bécourt Wood when the battalion combined its firepower with every other available source in order to suppress the enemy. Mobile forces played a role in this successful combination. The Royal Field Artillery and Royal Horse Artillery units attached to the Buffs’ parent brigades provided direct fire support, and their lighter guns were often crucial when transport and sighting difficulties prevented heavier pieces from getting into action. Cavalry and bicycles also proved significant, acting as forward screens and intelligence gathering units. The use of the ‘traditional’ cavalry arm was matched by the deployment of new technological developments in mobility and firepower. Aircraft flew in ammunition supplies and attacked strong points in order to assist the Buffs, and tanks proved increasingly useful. However, it should be noted that the Buffs often acted

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as the vital assistant to the tanks and not vice versa. Tanks worked best when the infantry used its skills and weapons in conjunction with the artillery to provide them with opportunities to show off their limited, but useful, potential. Tanks were not the technological panacea to the problems of the Western Front in 1918, and no commanding officer of the Buffs could afford to relax his preparations just because tanks had been assigned to assist in a task. When real firepower was required only the big guns would do. As the Buffs’ experiences reveal, it was perfectly possible for the infantry to suppress enemy strong points without fire support from heavy pieces when in semi-open or open conditions, but a strongly entrenched enemy in a well-developed, entrenched defensive system still required the heavy howitzers and siege artillery. The attacks on the Quadrilateral, Ronssoy, Lempire, and Malassise Farm proved this. The BEF therefore needed the flexibility to deploy a variety of systems and approaches in 1918, and these heavily fortified positions and villages required the refined tactics of 1917: the guns had to provide the infantry with the opportunity to show off its skills. When given the opportunity in the right conditions, the Buffs proved that the British infantry was a flexible, intelligent, determined, and highly efficient instrument of war. NOTES 1. For more details on the strategic background see J. E. Edmonds, Military Operations France and Belgium, 1918, Vol. 3 (London: Macmillan, 1939), 172–320. 2. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 1 May 1918; WO/2048 55 IB WD, 27 July 1918. 3. WO 95/1826 12 Division WD, 19 May 1918. See also Chris McCarthy, ‘Queen of the Battlefield: The Development of Command Organisation and Tactics in the British Infantry Battalion during the Great War’, in Gary Sheffield and Dan Todman (eds.), Command and Control on the Western Front: The British Army’s Experience 1914–18 (Staplehurst: Spellmount, 2004), 173–94. 4. WO 95/1826 37 IB WD, 19 May 1918. 5. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, Training Schedule, May 1918. 6. For more details of Maxse’s Hints on Training, Issued by XVIII Corps (Aug. 1918), and more commonly known as ‘The Brown Book’, see Paddy Griffith, British Battle Tactics on the Western Front: The British Army’s Art of Attack 1916–18 (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1994), 95–8. 7. WO 95/1826 12 Division WD, 3 June 1918. Report on reorganisation. 8. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 24 June 1918. 9. WO 95/1827 12 Division WD, Note by 37 IB Commander, July 1918. 10. WO 95/1826 12 Division WD, Report for V Corps on Operations made in support of 18 Division, 30 June–3 July 1918, dated 13 July 1918. 11. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 17–29 June 1918. 12. For a more detailed account of the preparations see J. P. Harris and Niall Barr, Amiens to the Armistice: The BEF in the Hundred Days’ Campaign, 8 August–11 November 1918 (London: Brasseys, 1998). 13. Ibid., 76–97.

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14. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, Account of Operations 6–10 Aug. 1918, dated 14 Aug. 1918. 15. Ibid.; Major-General Sir Arthur B. Scott (ed.), P. Middleton Brumwell (compiler), The History of the 12th (Eastern) Division in the Great War, 1914–1918 (London: Nisbit & Co. Ltd., 1923), 190–2. Given these problems on the III Corps front, Prior and Wilson have suggested that Rawlinson should have removed these tired troops from his order of battle and replaced them with fresh units. However, Harris and Barr have rejected this concept citing the vast staff work problem such a manoeuvre would have created. See Robin Prior and Trevor Wilson, Command on the Western Front (Oxford: Blackwell, 1992), 324–6; Harris and Barr, Amiens to the Armistice, 97–8. 16. See Harris and Barr, Amiens to the Armistice, 104–10. 17. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 8–9 Aug. 1918; R. S. H. Moody, Historical Records of the Buffs, East Kent Regiment 1914–1919 (London: Medici Society, 1922) 359–60; Scott and Brumwell, 12th Division, 192–3. 18. Scott and Brumwell, 12th Division, 194; Moody, Historical Records, 360; J. E. Edmonds, Military Operations France and Belgium, 1918, Vol. 4 (London: HMSO, 1947), 131. 19. See Harris and Barr, Amiens to the Armistice, 121–34. 20. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, Operational Order No. 138, 21 Aug. 1918. 21. Ibid., 22 Aug. 1918. 22. Moody, Historical Records, 362; Edmonds, Military Operations, 1918, Vol. 4, 208. 23. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 22–3 Aug. 1918. 24. Ibid., 24–5 Aug. 1918; Scott and Brumwell, 12th Division, 196–7. 25. See Harris and Barr, Amiens to the Armistice, 145–53. 26. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 27–9 Aug. 1918; WO 95/1859 37 IB WD, 27–9 Aug. 1918; Scott and Brumwell, 12th Division, 200. 27. WO 95/2048 55 IB WD, 26 Aug. 1918, Counter Offensive of 1918 Narrative No. 2, undated. 28. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, Summary of Operations 1–4 Sept. 1918, dated 7 Sept. 1918; Moody, Historical Records, 369–71. 29. WO 95/2048 55 IB WD, 22 Aug. 1918, Counter Offensive of 1918 Narrative No. 2, undated. 30. WO 95/1859 37 IB WD, 22–6 Aug. 1918. Peter Simkins has remarked on the greater direct involvement of brigadiers by 1918. See ‘ “Building Blocks”: Aspects of Command and Control at Brigade Level in the BEF’s Operations, 1916–1918’, in Sheffield and Todman, Command and Control, 141–72. 31. See Edmonds, Military Operations, 1918, Vol. 4, 82, 183, 292. 32. WO 95/2048 55 IB WD, Counter Offensive of 1918 Narrative No. 2, undated. 33. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 31 Aug. 1918. 34. G. H. F. Nichols, The 18th Division in the Great War (Edinburgh: William Blackwood & Sons, 1922) 363. The claim that the battalions were receiving conscripts combed-out of industry is often made, but it is hard to prove conclusively, especially given the casualty statistics drawn from Soldiers Died in the Great War which shows a high number of men from the non-industrial sections of the south-east and referred to in Chapter 1. 35. WO 95/2048 55 IB WD, Notes on Divisional Conference, 10 Sept. 1918. 36. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 7 Sept. 1918; Scott and Brumwell, 12th Division, 205–6. 37. See Harris and Barr, Amiens to the Armistice, 170–6.

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38. A fourth Buffs battalion was also present, the 10th Buffs, which had been formed in Egypt from the East Kent Mounted Rifles and was part of the 74 Division. 39. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 9 Sept. 1918. 40. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, 18 Sept. 1918. 41. Ibid. 42. NAM 2001-02-389-1 Diary of Corporal Charles Brain, 21 Sept. 1918. 43. WO 95/1607 16 IB WD, Report on Operations 17–30 Sept. 1918, dated 4 Oct. 1918. 44. Ibid. 45. Major-General T. O. Marden, A Short History of the Sixth Division August 1914–March 1919 (London: Hugh Rees, 1920) 63. 46. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 18 Sept. 1918; WO 95/1859 37 IB WD, 18 Sept. 1918; Scott and Brumwell, 12th Division, 207. Scott and Brumwell state that Old Copse was taken on the 19 September. However, the brigade diary states 18 September. 47. WO 95/2048 55 IB WD, The Capture of Ronssoy and Exploitation of Ground beyond that Village, Narrative No. 4, undated. 48. For an overview of the situation on the evening of 18 September see Edmonds, Military Operations, 1918, Vol. 4, 497–8, 503–5; WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 19 Sept. 1918; WO 95/1859 37 IB WD, 19 Sept. 1918. 49. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, 19 Sept. 1918; WO 95/2048 55 IB WD, The Capture of Ronssoy and Exploitation of Ground beyond that Village, Narrative No. 4, undated. 50. WO 95/2048 55 IB WD, The Capture of Ronssoy and Exploitation of Ground beyond that Village, Narrative No. 4, undated; WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, 24 Sept. 1918. 51. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 22 Sept. 1918. 52. Harris and Barr, Amiens to the Armistice, 179. 53. Ibid., 206–18. 54. Edmonds, Military Operations, 1918, Vol. 4, 110. 55. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 29 Sept. 1918; Scott and Brumwell, 12th Division, 211. 56. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 30 Sept. 1918; Scott and Brumwell, 12th Division, 212. 57. Harris and Barr, Amiens to the Armistice, 218–22. 58. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, 29 Sept. 1918; WO 95/2048 55 IB WD, The Action of the 29 September 1918, Narrative No. 5, undated. 59. Harris and Barr, Amiens to the Armistice, 228. 60. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, 30 Sept. 1918; WO 95/2048 55 IB WD, The Action of the 29 September 1918, Narrative No. 5, undated. 61. Harris and Barr, Amiens to the Armistice, 237. 62. Marden, 6th Division, 65. 63. J. E. Edmonds, Military Operations France and Belgium, 1918, Vol. 5 (London: HMSO, 1947) 189. 64. Marden, 6th Division, 66; see also Harris and Barr, Amiens to the Armistice, 239. 65. Edmonds, Military Operations, 1918, Vol. 5, 190; Marden, 6th Division, 65. 66. NAM 2000-10-214-1 Lieutenant-Colonel R. E. Power’s orders for 8 Oct. 1918. 67. NAM 2001-02-389-1 Diary of Corporal Charles Brain, 7 Oct. 1918. 68. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, Narrative of 8 Oct. 1918. 69. Marden, 6th Division, 68; Moody, Historical Records, 409. 70. WO 95/1607 16 IB WD, Report on Operations 6–9 Oct. 1918, dated 14 Oct. 1918. 71. Harris and Barr, Amiens to the Armistice, 240.

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72. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, Narrative of 8 Oct. 1918; NAM 2001-02-389-1 Diary of Corporal Charles Brain, 8 Oct. 1918. 73. Harris and Barr, Amiens to the Armistice, 240–6; Edmonds, Military Operations, 1918, Vol. 5, 300; Marden, 6th Division, 70. 74. Marden, 6th Division, 70. 75. Ibid. 76. WO 95/1608 1st Buffs WD, Narrative of Operations, 8 Oct. 1918. 77. Ibid., 30 Oct. 1918. 78. Moody, Historical Records, 411. 79. Harris and Barr, Amiens to the Armistice, 260; Scott and Brumwell, 12th Division, 213. 80. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 9 Oct. 1918; Scott and Brumwell, 12th Division, 217. 81. WO 95/1860 6th Buffs WD, 20 Oct. 1918. 82. Ibid., 23 Oct. 1918. 83. Ibid., 23–4 Oct. 1918. 84. Scott and Brumwell, 12th Division, 223. 85. WO 95/2048 55 IB WD, Strength Returns 19 Oct. 1918. 86. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, 14 Oct. 1918. 87. Harris and Barr, Amiens to the Armistice, 261; Edmonds, Military Operations, 1918, Vol. 5, 354, 360. 88. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, 23 Oct. 1918; WO 95/2048 55 IB WD, The Capture of Bousies and Robersart, Narrative No. 6, undated. 89. WO 95/2048 55 IB WD, The Capture of Bousies and Robersart, Narrative No. 6, undated. 90. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, 23 Oct. 1918. 91. Harris and Barr, Amiens to the Armistice, 272–7; Edmonds, Military Operations, 1918, Vol. 5, 464. 92. WO 95/2049 7th Buffs WD, Report on Operations, 4–6 Nov. 1918, dated 10 Nov. 1918; WO 95/22048 55 IB WD, The Advance Through Mormal Forest and the Capture of Sassegnies, Narrative No. 7, undated. 93. Harris and Barr, Amiens to the Armistice, 282–3. 94. WO 95/22049 7th Buffs WD, Report on Operations, 4–6 Nov. 1918, dated 10 Nov. 1918. 95. Statistics drawn from battalion and brigade war diaries; Moody, Historical Records; Soldiers and Officers Died in the Great War (Sussex: CD-Rom, Naval and Military Press, 1998). 96. Edmonds, Military Operations, 1918, Vol. 5, 575. 97. WO 95/1827 37 IB WD, Lessons Learnt from Recent Operations, dated 28 Oct. 1918. 98. This point is made clear by Dan Todman’s essay, ‘The Grand Lamasery revisited: General Headquarters on the Western Front 1914–1918’ in Sheffield and Todman (eds.), Command and Control, 39–70. 99. WO 95/1827 37 IB WD, Lessons Learnt from Recent Operations, dated 28 Oct. 1918.

9 Remembering Throughout the war the Buffs maintained close contact with its host community in East Kent regardless of the fact that the demographic complexion of the battalions altered during the conflict. This was reciprocated by the civilian communities of East Kent which continued to view the men in the trenches as ‘their boys’. Communication was maintained via a continual interchange of information. This regular communication reflected the pride felt by the communities of East Kent for the Buffs, and ensured a high profile for the regiment throughout the war. In the immediate post-war period the Buffs and the people of East Kent came together to commemorate and remember their dead in pride and sorrow through the creation and production of a variety of memorials. These memorials then linked the military community the men, both dead and living, had found in the Buffs with their families and homes. For ex-servicemen of the Buffs there was an additional way to maintain the memory by taking up membership of the regiment’s old comrades association. On a more practical and prosaic level, those who remained in the regiment had to decide whether their recent experiences were likely to be of future value, and how those experiences should inform training and regimental practice. During the conflict the people of East Kent showed continued active support for the Buffs. A crucial way of expressing this support was by assisting in the production and despatch of comforts. For those at home, far away from their loved ones, and fearing for their safety, the chance to escape the frustrating sense of powerlessness by taking part in a scheme designed to help and encourage the men must have been very attractive. The establishment of Buffs comforts funds commenced early in the war, and reveals the traditional workings of the extended regimental family, for it was officers’ wives who took the lead. Soon after the outbreak of hostilities Mrs Hickson, wife of Brigadier-General R. A. Hickson, commander of the 2nd Buffs during the South African War, volunteered to organise a comfort fund for those serving, and later, prisoners of war. She approached Lord Harris, the Lord Lieutenant of the County, Colonel of the Regiment, Sir Arthur Paget, and the depot officers for assistance. A series of collecting centres were established including Benenden, Canterbury, Chartham, Cranbrook, and Hawkhurst, and several officers’ wives and mothers soon volunteered to help her in these endeavours.

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Mrs Eaton, wife of the 6th Buffs commander, appealed for funds and comforts in the Kentish Gazette on 14 November 1914, and took a special interest in the welfare of the 6th Buffs, as did Rosina Furley, wife of the second-in-command. The other battalions were soon farmed out to the relevant females. Viscountess Goschen, whose son was serving in the 5th Buffs, took charge of the Territorials, Lady George Hamilton and Mrs W. D. Johnson, directed efforts for the 8th Buffs, and Mrs Geddes, wife of the 2nd Buffs commander, helped co-ordinate efforts with the assistance of depot officers.¹ These schemes also reveal the poverty of supplies available to British troops in the early period of the war before British industry moved into gear. Lord Harris appealed for funds to furnish Kent battalions with a whole range of military equipment including such basics as field telephones, rangefinders, and prismatic and luminous compasses.² A few months later, a former Buffs officer, Captain H. C. C. Baird, launched a trench periscope fund on behalf of the Buffs.³ The subscription and despatch lists recorded in the War Dragon show that these schemes gained widespread and popular backing. By December 1915 over £600 had been collected. A profusion of mufflers, cardigans, socks, shirts—both purchased and homemade—flowed out to the men, as well as soap, razors, medicines, chocolate, and tobacco.⁴ Significantly, these funds appeared to remain the preserve of the original cohort of officers’ wives and mothers. Whereas the Western Front forced a change in the social complexion of the officers, this was not matched back in East Kent; middle- and upper-class women remained firmly in control of this philanthropic activity. The Canterbury press supported all of these efforts vigorously, and provided a continual stream of information about the Buffs, despite the problems imposed by military censorship. From the earliest months of the war regular updates were given on Buffs casualties and prisoners of war. A procession of articles provided details on promotions, and filled in information on the dead with biographical fragments. For example, on 12 August 1916 the Kentish Gazette announced the deaths in action of Corporal Harold Levenson, Second Lieutenant L. H. Batson, and Lieutenant Geoffrey Burton. In addition to these facts, it was also recorded that Levenson was a resident of Broad Street, Canterbury, that he had been transferred from the 2nd Buffs, and that his brother, also of the 2nd Buffs, was a prisoner of war in Germany. In the case of Batson, the reader was told that he was the only child of the Reverend V. L. Batson of Brookland, while Burton was the son of Oliver Burton of Clare Lodge, Ramsgate, and was a former scholar of Dumpton House, Broadstairs, and the King’s School, Canterbury.⁵ A good example of the Kentish Gazette’s obsession with the minutiae of promotions and postings connected with the Buffs is revealed in January and February 1917 when it announced in quick succession that Major A. F. Campbell Johnson had been transferred to the Garrison Battalion, that Captain H. H. Hartland, a former Buff was now back in Canterbury and looking forward to resuming service with his old regiment after serving with the West African Regiment, and that Captain H. S. Hardy, who had been on the half-pay list for some time due to injury, had been restored to the full establishment.⁶

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Contact with the men in the trenches and prison camps was also maintained via a regular stream of letters. Unfortunately, only loose conclusions can be drawn from this material, as so little of it has survived, and what has survived has often tended to be the letters the servicemen sent home rather than the letters they received. Some provide hints at a deep-seated regimental pride. A series of postcards sent by Lance-Corporal F. E. Johns, a pre-war Regular, to his sister show uniforms of the Buffs, 1572–1905, the Buffs marching past the King, and one with a map of Kent dominated by a Buffs soldier headed by the title, ‘The Doorway of England/I had rather be a doorkeeper in the County of Kent than dwell in the Tents of the Hun.’⁷ The stresses of war were also admitted. Lieutenant L. A. Lea Smith wrote vivid letters to his mother including one in which he described how he was trapped in a mineshaft for twenty-two hours after an explosion. ‘I am not a bit shaky after it all’, he reassured her, but it reveals that some men did not decide to spare their relatives from the details of trench life, even if they ended such communications on a cheery note.⁸ Letters of condolence also reveal a complex collection of emotions and motivations, and a desire to provide full details about the loss of loved ones. Great lengths were taken to ascertain the facts by those writing home to the bereaved. When Mrs Crawley received a letter from Private R. L. Butler telling her of her husband’s death, she was assured that he had been killed instantly by a sniper’s bullet to the heart, a story no doubt designed to comfort with its reassurance of painless oblivion. Rather than let the matter rest on this note of solace, however, Butler wrote again to state that more information had come to light about Private Crawley’s death, and that he was investigating the circumstances and would write again.⁹ Sergeant Boarer told Mrs Weller how her husband had died with great care and attention to detail. Clearly aware of how valuable these facts were to the bereaved, Boarer’s letter ends on the firm statement: ‘This is a true account of Poor Old Tommy’s Death.’¹⁰ Corporal A. Ferguson took equal care in his letter to Mrs Green: It was on the afternoon of the 13th April that I was wounded and your son Harry came to bandage me up being a stretcher bearer of my company. But am very sorry to say that as soon as he reached me he was hit by a machine gun bullet in the abdomen and died immediately. I was the only one that saw him die and I can honestly say he suffered very little.¹¹

Ferguson provided the comfort of supposedly instantaneous and painless death to the bereaved mother, while giving her the still shocking fact that it was caused by a machine gun bullet to the abdomen. The continued use of a very high diction is also noticeable, particularly in the letters of NCOs, who appear to be searching for the correct form of address by imitating the terms officers might deploy. CQMS Port wrote to Lance-Corporal Weller’s widow in lofty, reassuring prose: ‘May God in his infinite mercy strengthen you to sustain the sorrow which has overtaken you, in the struggle for the existence of the Empire for which we are all fighting, is the ernest [sic] prayer

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of your sincere friend.’¹² A similar language can be seen in C. S. M. Randall’s florid final comments to Mrs Green: ‘Assuring you of my deepest sympathy in your sad bereavement./Believe me to be your obedient servant/[signed] S. Randall’.¹³ Officers did, indeed, tend to use the full language of nineteenth-century bereavement and honour when writing letters of condolence. Captain A. F. Worster told Mrs Green that her son ‘died nobly fighting for his country and in a glorious cause and no man could have died a finer death’. Captain W. Birrell’s comments to Mrs Green buttressed these sentiments: ‘His work of mercy, so nobly carried on, endeared him to all, and his loss is not only mourned by those present with us, but will cause great sorrow to the many wounded comrades to whom he ministered with such tender care.’¹⁴ When officers wrote to the widows and mothers of fellow officers the sense of personal connection was often pronounced strongly, and the bereaved were left in no doubt that their lost loved one had left a significant gap in the lives of his fellows as well as in those of his home. As noted in Chapter 1, Major Bernard Strauss expressed his regret that his friend and colleague, Captain A. F. Worster, had been killed in an emotional and heartfelt letter to his bereaved parents stating that: ‘I was extremely attached to your son, whom I knew well, and to whose splendid qualities as a soldier and as a man I can bear witness.’¹⁵ A similar degree of heartfelt emotion, mixed with frankness, can be detected in Lieutenant-Colonel T. C. Cope’s letter to Mrs Lea Smith: He was quite the most gallant boy I have known, and his fearlessness almost amounted to recklessness, so much so that I had sent him off on leave, so that he would not be present at an attack in which the Battn took part on July 3rd as I knew his utter disregard to danger would merely lead to his undoing, and I felt that his life was so valuable to this Battn that I must keep him out of danger if possible.¹⁶

These personal letters often reached a large audience via reproduction in the pages of the local newspapers. A good, and moving, example is the publication of Private V. T. Sayers’ letter to his parents explaining the death of his brother and their son: The loss of so good a brother out here does not invigorate one with any extra spirit, but I can only hope that I shall be spared to return to you. I little thought that Claude would so soon share the fate of our comrades who lived near us at home. Please do try and bear the news as bravely as possible, and in our sad loss console yourself with the fact that he laid down his life in the common cause of duty, and died fighting gallantly for his King and country. I have since heard that he suffered no pain, being unconscious the whole time.¹⁷

The decision taken by the bereaved to pass on this material reveals a desire to express sorrow and pride publicly. Such behaviour was highly Victorian, and indicates the survival of nineteenth-century mourning processes even in this period of industrialised, mass death. Traditional funereal processes, despite the lack of a body to bury and grieve over, were reflected in the continued practice of sending bereavement cards. Corporal F. E. Johns’ family produced a four-page

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cigarette card-sized book with silver and black edging, fronted by a silver-grey illustration of an angel with a trumpet and the scroll, ‘In Loving Memory’. On the inside covers were two black crosses of St John, and the message: He bade no one a last farewell,/ God called him home too soon,/ He took his flight before we knew/ That he had from us gone./ We miss his loving face and welcome smile,/ Our hearts are broken, but for a little while;/ Soon we shall pass within the golden gates,/ God comfort us, God help us, while we wait. In Loving Remembrance of/ MY DEAREST SON/ FRANK GEORGE JOHNS/ AGED 24 YEARS,/ Who was Killed in Action, Oct. 20th, 1914./ God has taken our loved one from our home,/ but never from our hearts.¹⁸

Mrs Green commissioned something similar to commemorate her son, Harry. A card with a photograph of Harry in uniform on a pebbly beach with a seawall behind him was mounted with a border in red and blue. On the left side is the photograph, and below the legend, ‘Rest eternal grant to him, O Lord,/ And let light perpetual shine on him.’ On the right side, the borders have Union Jacks surmounted by the crown in medallions, and the statement: For God, for King and Country./ [Then a gold cross]/ In Proud and Loving Memory/ of/ [In ink] Harry Green [underneath in smaller letters Pte 8241 The Buffs] of [in ink] Five Oak Green/ Who gave his life for his Country./ Date [in ink] 14th April 1917/ At [in ink] Somewhere in France while attending a wounded comrade./ Death for one’s country’s sake is sweet,/ A life laid down at Jesus’ feet,/ Death for one’s country, if need be,/ Death for the right is victory./ Lord, all pitying Jesu blest,/ Grant him Thine eternal Rest./ [in ink] Interred in Maroc British Cemetery near Vermelles.¹⁹

These memorial practices not only gave the bereaved a chance to grieve, but also provided a public affirmation of the fact that the lost loved one had ‘done his bit’ in the conflict. The publicising of death ensured a flow of information, which often contained harrowing details, and therefore contradicts the idea maintained by some cultural historians of the Great War that a deep and discernable gap of silence and experience divided home from fighting fronts. Far from being in perpetual ignorance, the citizens of Canterbury were never given the chance to avoid the city’s connections with the Buffs, and the effect the war was having on its battalions. The combined emotions of pride and sorrow were reflected in the actions of the civic and commercial organisations of Canterbury and East Kent. Brave deeds were lauded and commended. When Sergeant H. Wire of the 7th Buffs, and former employee of Mackeson’s brewery, Hythe, was commended by Major-General Lee for his good work at Chérisy in May 1917, George Mackeson, director of the firm, congratulated him in a letter expressing the firm’s pride in a local man who had brought honour to all connected with him: We are glad to hear that you have done so well in France and have gained the distinction of receiving the Military Medal; you are indeed upholding the honour of the Old Country and the town of Hythe, not to mention the Hythe Brewery. As a small token of our appreciation we are putting aside for you seven War Savings Certificates of 15/6 each.²⁰

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Canterbury council commemorated the dead of the city with a scroll stressing the location’s national profile. On the certificate was an engraving of the cathedral, with the city arms in the left corner and an unfurled Union Jack in the right. In front of the Union Jack was a sailor at the salute, and facing him a Tommy in Field Service Marching Order presenting arms. Then, in a box projecting upwards from the centre, was the legend: ‘To [space for name] Who gave up his life fighting for liberty and the rights of nations in the Great War 1914 . . . . .19 Dated [space] Mayor [space for signature]. Town Clerk [space for signature] [Bottom scroll] Certificate of Honour.’²¹ Down on the coast, the small town of Sandgate was made proud by the heroics of Corporal William Cotter and his posthumous Victoria Cross, which was commemorated by the unveiling of a plaque in the High Street in April 1917.²² Thus, long before the war ended, East Kent and the Buffs had established a way of interpreting their war dead. There was no denial of the grief and pain, but, by the same token, nor was there any doubt as to the glory of the sacrifice made in the name of God, king, country, locality, and regiment. After the Armistice the commemoration of the Buffs in Canterbury and East Kent took two forms. The first was the form of commemoration inspired and shaped by the regiment itself, and the second was that controlled by civic authorities. Within the Buffs the initial moves towards a war memorial scheme were made in the winter of 1920. At a meeting of the Buffs’ old comrades association, ‘The Past and Present Association’, Colonel Sir Arthur Paget suggested that the regiment’s retirement cottages reserved for former Buffs who had fallen on hard times should be supported with a new endowment funding the erection of another cottage. Those present welcomed the idea, but little seems to have come from it.²³ The failure of Paget’s suggestion to inspire firm action can probably be explained by two factors. First, the cottage homes may have been seen as a scheme too narrowly connected with the Regular battalions, rather than the massively expanded wartime regiment. Secondly, the cottages did not provide a space in which relatives could grieve, and the regiment display its pride and glory in public ceremonial. Decisions were, however, reached during the winter, for in the January 1921 edition of the Dragon, the war memorial scheme was announced. Those behind the scheme are not listed, but a senior officers committee probably finalised the plan. It was decided that a reredos (an altar decoration) should be erected in the Buffs’ memorial chapel, known as the Warriors’ Chapel, in Canterbury cathedral. The reredos was to contain a carving of St Michael in armour, the Heavenly Host, and St George, and St Paul. With these medieval devices, the regiment was connecting itself to the fabric of the chapel and cathedral, and implying an unbroken code of chivalry and honour stretching back through the centuries.²⁴ The war thus became another chapter in the glorious history of the regiment, and was given a validation and scale. It might have been the Great War, but for an ancient regiment like the Buffs war was its stock in trade, an implication given weight by the vaulted ceiling of the chapel bedecked with regimental colours, and the flanking windows containing the Crimean and South African War memorials.

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Funds for the memorial were raised from within: members and ex-members of the regiment, and relatives of those who had served. In particular, the subscription lists reveal the names of senior officers and their families. As the leaders of the regiment in peace and war, and as those with most disposable income, it was their duty and responsibility to set an example. This assertion of pre-1914 Regular connections can also be seen as a sign that the transformations caused by the war were temporary, and that the regiment was reverting to its pre-war social complexion. At the same time, wives, widows, and female members of bereaved families were noticeable contributors. Similar to the comfort schemes run during the conflict, the memorial fund was an important focus for women, giving them a stake in a male stronghold.²⁵ The memorial therefore linked servicemen, ex-servicemen, and civilians, and proof of this connection was made permanent by the memorial’s inscription: ‘To the Glory of God and to the enduring memory of the Officers, Warrant Officers, Non-Commissioned Officers and Men of The Buffs who gave their lives for their country and for Humanity in the Great War, 1914–1919. This memorial is erected by their comrades and kinsfolk.’ (emphasis added) General Lord Horne unveiled the memorial in July 1921 before an invited congregation over 2,000 strong. The ceremony was a moment in which the honours and history of the regiment were combined with the sorrow and grief of the bereaved. Horne’s speech initially implied that the memorial was the sole preserve of the regiment, and was not ‘co-owned’ with the bereaved. He started by listing the Buffs’ main honours, from Blenheim to the Relief of Kimberley, before turning to the regiment’s role in the Great War. He was sure that the example of a long and noble history had provided the spur on the most recent battlefields. Praising the dedication of the Buffs, he asked what had urged them on. He answered his own question by identifying the qualities of self-sacrifice and devotion to duty. At this point his address took on a wider appeal for he linked those qualities to Britain’s present, and he demanded that all display them in order to overcome the challenges of peace. A fundamentally conservative message was therefore delivered to the congregation. Britain’s current situation, and the realities underpinning the war were taken away from the realm of political debate and submerged under high abstractions.²⁶ The reports in the Dragon imply that the memorial and ceremony had created a site for the expression of the wartime memories of the men, the pride, pomp and circumstance of the regiment, and the individual feelings of grief felt by the bereaved: The Last Post and Reveille, whilst two thousand men and women stood immovable—the former conjuring up visions of the happy days spent in barrack and trench with the men whose memory they were honouring; the latter—but who can even attempt to probe the feelings of those wives and mothers, who, for England’s sake, gave without a murmur.²⁷

A serving Buffs officer present gave his impressions in the Dragon. For him, the ceremony was the moment when military and civilian were merged: Collectively, they seemed amazed at the wonderful regularity of the proceedings—the beautiful solemnity of it all—the sentinels with arms reversed—the periods of dead silence

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when one and all must verily have felt if they never did before in their lives that they were in close touch with their Maker. It needed little seeing; one could hear those brave mothers and wives essaying to choke back their sobs, hard though it must have been, and it was after the ‘Last Post’ had sounded that an aged mother who had come from the North turned to me and whispered ‘It is hard, for he was always such a good boy to me.’ The lad had been killed early in the War. It was those few words that conveyed to my mind how nobly the mothers of England had borne the loss of their dear sons, for in that memorable assembly on July 31st nothing more than tears (that Heaven-sent outlet for grief ) were outwardly indicative of how parents had so nobly and generously and gallantly given their sons for the cause of Freedom and Right.²⁸

Significantly, this officer, like so many others in the Buffs, implied that women made the greatest civilian sacrifices. Further links between the existing regiment, its ex-servicemen, and the families of those who served in it were forged by the publication of the regiment’s war record. The plan to produce a history was announced in the January 1921 edition of the Dragon; the Warriors’ Chapel memorial scheme was unveiled in the same number. Former Buff, R. S. H. Moody, took on the huge responsibility of official historian. Moody was given the task of producing a readable book within the price range of all pockets. ‘He has in fact been asked to cater for the ex-soldier, his family, his neighbour, and the fellow tradesman, as well as regimental institutes and individuals still serving.’²⁹ Major F. W. Tomlinson, a Buffs officer seconded to the official histories project, assisted Moody, and organised the subscriptions lists. It was published in the autumn of 1922, and by May 1923 the first run of 2,000 copies was almost sold out.³⁰ As with the cathedral memorial, the subscribers’ list included a mixture of serving and ex-service Buffs, their family members, and the families of the bereaved. As so many of the bereaved desired to know the details surrounding the deaths of their loved ones, and to have the comfort offered by a tangible memorial, the history must have been a thing of solace and pride. The final form of commemoration and remembrance springing from within the regiment was that offered by the Dragon Club, the Past and Present, and Battalion associations. Unlike the memorials, this form of commemoration was exclusive, and consisted of ex-servicemen only; it was a private world. The single most exclusive group was the Dragon Club, an association solely for former officers of the 1st, and 2nd Buffs. Whether the exclusivity of this club was refined still further by confining it to those holding Regular commissions only is not made clear in the records. The wider family of the Buffs was embraced in the Past and Present Association, which was formed by a collection of former officers in 1907 with the intention of providing a clubbable atmosphere in which former and serving members of the regiment could meet, socialise, and assist any Buff in difficulties. Every member was given a card with the Association’s mottos: ‘Once a Buff, always a Buff ’ and ‘True Buff Comradeship being the predominant factor to be borne in mind, no complaint, or matter likely to lead to, or create argument

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and bad feeling will be permitted at any meeting.’ Like the officers’ mess, it was therefore not regarded as a fit forum for political discussion or debate. During the war it fell into decline due to lack of time and members, but was revived after the Armistice. By 1921 it was well and truly re-established, but in these early stages of revival officers dominated.³¹ It did, however, maintain the equality the promoted NCOs had achieved in wartime, and was supported by such figures as W. R. Birrell, W. R. Orwin, W. Corrall, and the influential NCOs including RSMs Verlander, Kesby, and Catchpole.³² Branch strengths grew during the 1920s, and then remained generally consistent throughout the period 1921–39. A snapshot is provided by the 1932 figures: Ashford: 220, Canterbury: 277, Dover: 184, Folkestone: 163, Hythe: 48, London: 687, Margate: 223, Medway: 108, Ramsgate: 145, Sandwich: 77, Sittingbourne: 106, Weald: 293, 1st Buffs: 655, 2nd Buffs: 475, Total: 3661.³³ In the mid-1920s the Past and Present Association was supplemented by the arrival of service battalion associations. The reason for the growth of these individual associations can probably be attributed to the fact that the men who served in the service battalions felt their first loyalty lay with the battalion rather than the regiment. The rather abstract concept of the regiment may have held them together in some ways, but it did not exert quite the same grip it had on the Regulars, men who had imbibed regimental spirit and history over many years. Secondly, the Past and Present Association with its mix of former and current Regular officers, NCOs, and men may have seemed slightly intimidating to some. The 8th Buffs was the first to form an association in 1924, followed by the 7th Buffs in 1926, while steps towards a 6th Buffs’ association did not commence until 1930.³⁴ A crucial factor in these moves was the enthusiasm and dynamism of a small core of men, often ex-officers and NCOs. G. Lindley, one of the original lieutenants of the 8th Buffs, and E. S. Waters, a senior NCO, were the motivating forces behind their battalion’s association. For the 7th Buffs, it was R. W. Keown, another former officer, and the men of the 6th Buffs were inspired to reunite by E. A. Carter, one of the commissioned NCOs.³⁵ The battalion associations were structured around annual dinners, and they usually attracted around a hundred members and guests. Most of the dinners were held in London, and in the case of the 8th Buffs association this was regarded as essential due to the number of its members living and working in the capital. Significantly, the numbers increased from the late 1920s, which perhaps reflects a growing desire to meet and remember with the passing of the years. Special guests were often invited, such as celebrated former Buffs, and most of the former commanding officers attended at least one dinner.³⁶ The Dragon was always keen to stress the distances some had travelled in order to attend. One man came down from Leith for the 8th Buffs dinner in 1934, and a year later a former officer flew from Belgium for the 6th Buffs dinner.³⁷ An atmosphere of nostalgia dominated these occasions. The wartime songs were sung, and speeches were made to a receptive and appreciative audience. A continual theme was the bond of mutual

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respect that had held officers and men together during the war. At the 1937 6th Buffs dinner, Captain Gordon spoke highly of the loyalty, valour and good comradeship shewn by those of the other ranks to their officers and if he was ever called upon again he would be ready to take the field with same grand fellows, old as they and he had grown in age. RSM Bert Tester responded and in equal terms stated that the 6th battalion were proud of their officers—gallant gentlemen—who were never afraid to lead and whom the other ranks never hesitated to follow.³⁸

Respect for the Regulars who had shaped them into soldiers was another familiar theme. At the 1933 8th Buffs reunion, RSM (later Captain) Barton, was singled out for the way he set an example at Shoreham in 1914.³⁹ The final great point was the cheerful, stoic resolution shown by all during those years of trial. J. G. Scott, a member of the 8th Buffs association, spoke of: the happy days when ‘Jerry’ held the high ground and the boys were up to their necks in mud in the valley. The battalion was always cheerful in those days and kept smiling. The theme running through his spoken words might be summed up in the phrase ‘Never get downhearted—keep smiling’ . . . a wonderful night, and a wonderful lot of old Buffs.⁴⁰

This was the spirit of the war memorial unveiling, and the Past and Present Association: a memory of the war uncontaminated by political doctrine, and infused with the wry humour of the ex-serviceman. Running alongside the commemoration and remembrance rituals of the regiment and its former members were those of the wider communities of Canterbury and East Kent. The sentiments of pride and belonging were an equally significant part of these forms of remembrance, and served to perpetuate the emotions stirred and maintained during wartime. When the cadre of the regiment returned to Canterbury in May 1919 in order to present colours and commence the task of rebuilding the regiment from the depot, the city turned out in proud and grateful welcome. Large crowds lined the route of the procession and cheered the parade as it marched past. In a formal speech the mayor welcomed Canterbury’s men back to their ancient home: We have followed all your movements from the time that you marched away, with eagerness—and, unfortunately, with sorrow at losing so many officers and men, whom we have known personally and by repute. We are only too pleased to see you here again . . . I can only offer you our heartiest thanks for your past service, and extend you a cordial welcome back to Canterbury once more.⁴¹

A month later, the Buffs were celebrated in a formal thanksgiving ceremony in the cathedral. Large crowds gathered once more, and the Kentish Gazette marked the occasion by providing a summary of each battalion’s war record, and reminded its readers that ‘it can be said of the men of the East Kent Regiment that in the face of the heaviest odds they were never known to fail.’⁴² Despite significant changes to

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the regional and social make-up of the regiment, Canterbury and East Kent still regarded the Buffs as ‘their boys’. The imprint of the Buffs on East Kent was so large that the regiment managed to overshadow other commemorative events in the region. When Lord Haig unveiled the Canterbury war memorial his speech rapidly became a panegyric to the Buffs, with the odd side reference to the Royal West Kent Regiment. By concentrating on the Buffs Haig gave the impression that the city’s entire roll of honour was made up of men who served in one, or at most two, local regiments: Certainly you have a right to be proud of your men. On whatever field they fought ‘The Buffs’ well maintained a reputation that began gloriously at Blenheim and Ramillies, and has gloriously been continued to our own day. It is not easy to pick and choose, but you will remember that it was the 7th Battalion East Kent Regiment—with the 7th Battalion West Kents on the sub-sector on their left—that held the forward zone at Vendeuil on the morning of March 21 1918, when the great storm of the supreme German attack burst forth upon the Fifth and Third British Armies. No finer feat of arms has been performed by any regiment than was achieved by the 7th ‘Buffs’ on that momentous day.⁴³

A similar impression was given at the unveiling of the Nonnington and Cranbrook war memorials. The Nonington service was presided over by Lieutenant-Colonel Finch Hatton who noted that eighteen of the twenty-seven men commemorated were Buffs, and added that ‘they had worthily maintained the great and glorious traditions of the regiment and had added lustre to its record.’⁴⁴ When the Cranbrook memorial was unveiled a Buffs Guard of Honour dominated the ceremony, and the crowd was reminded that their memorial was mainly a tribute to the 5th Buffs.⁴⁵ Further connections between East Kent and the Buffs were forged by the British League of Help scheme. Launched in 1921, the scheme encouraged British cities to adopt French towns and villages ravaged by the fighting. Colonel Powney, Secretary of the League, was particularly keen to ‘ask towns and villages, and districts to help those French villages associated with their county regiments, men of whom lie buried in large numbers in the vicinity’.⁴⁶ After liaising with Moody, Canterbury city council put the scheme to a public meeting where it was unanimously decided to adopt Lesboeufs and Morval in order to mark the actions of the 1st Buffs in September 1916. Significantly, the actions of a Regular battalion were taken as representative of the entire regiment.⁴⁷ Folkestone also took part in the scheme, but followed the operations of the 6th and 7th Buffs by adopting Morlancourt.⁴⁸ For the citizens of East Kent, particularly in the region’s southern arc, the connection with the Buffs was hard to miss, and these remembrance forms reveal that a hierarchy of the war dead was imposed on the living with the Buffs dominating the table. The final, and most severely utilitarian, form of remembrance was that provided by wartime experience to the reconstituted battalions of the regiment. Re-formed into two full battalions in the autumn and winter of 1919–20, the Buffs benefited from a solid core of long-serving officers and men who doubtless imparted a sense of

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continuity and valuable experience to the ranks of newcomers. Comparisons between pre- and post-war Army Lists reveals that many pre-1914 officers remained in the Buffs, including a large number who served with the regiment throughout the conflict. Of the two Lieutenant-Colonels, McDouall returned from command of a brigade, and W. H. Trevor was confirmed in his post after leading the 2nd Buffs from the summer of 1917. Among the fifteen majors, all had been with the regiment in August 1914. The two battalions contained twenty-four captains, of which ten were pre-war Buffs officers. The 1914 continuities ended at that point, for not one of the fifty-two lieutenants had been with the regiment at the outbreak of hostilities. However, the connections with the past were not entirely severed for eleven of the captains had formerly held temporary commissions or commissions from the ranks, and they included figures who had played significant wartime roles such as A. G. Kenchington (former 7th Buffs), R. A. Pinhey, W. R. Corrall (former 1st Buffs NCO), and F. Whitaker. A similar situation can be detected among the collection of lieutenants. Thirty-four had served in the regiment during the war including B. E. Davies, who joined the 1st Buffs on the Western Front in November 1914, R. J. Tuke, another who served the 1st Buffs well, and Eric Foster Hall, who took the decision to remain with the Buffs rather than apply for a commission in the Indian Army.⁴⁹ Trying to ascertain whether the ranks of NCOs and OR reflected a similar degree of continuity is a much harder task, but the 1919 cadre figures and references in the Dragon suggest a significant core, including CSMs MacWalter and Verlander, Sergeants Dennis and Denny, and Privates Downes and Wanstall.⁵⁰ Although the army was shrinking drastically, the constitution of the Buffs appears to show that many pre-war Regulars wanted to continue with their careers at the cessation of hostilities, and that a noticeable number of wartime additions, particularly temporary officers, were content to make the army their home.⁵¹ In terms of training, the impact of the Great War is difficult to detect. Scanning the pages of the Dragon in the early twenties in the search for references to training schedules and routines leads to the distinct impression that the Buffs, and the army of which they were a part, made a concerted effort to turn the clock back to 1914. Bayonet fighting and fencing remained significant, and musketry skills were emphasised with as much vim as ever, highlighting the army’s consistent belief in proficiency matched by firmness of character.⁵² The 1st Buffs went off to musketry camp in July 1920, and the course was repeated the following summer.⁵³ By February 1922 the Dragon was able to claim that army musketry was maturing again with the withdrawal of men from Ireland and Germany, and that the Army Rifle Association championship was to be re-launched. Competition for the Queen Mary Prize was announced with the troops reminded that ‘the rifle used is the short pattern, and no extraneous devices, such as the aperture sight or sling, are allowed’.⁵⁴ By contrast, it is hard to perceive the same degree of enthusiasm and veneration for training in the use of automatic weapons, particularly the Lewis gun that had proved so valuable on the Western Front. Lewis gun drills were introduced in 1921 with ‘platoon field firing’ exercises, but the profile of this weapon remains low in Buffs’ literature.⁵⁵

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The difficulty of integrating the experiences of the Great War into the Buffs’ training schedule lay in their perceived utility. Few expected another major conflict against a first class power, and the tasks devolved to the Buffs required the skills built up prior to 1914, as soldiering for the regiment rapidly returned to the usual routines of imperial policing. In the summer of 1919 the 1st Buffs was despatched to Ireland, and returned to the same Fermoy barracks it had left in 1914. Unlike in 1914, civil war was no longer a threat, but a reality. In order to deal with this situation the 1st Buffs required not the ability to deploy elaborate platoon formations covered by a range of weapons but all their old fieldcraft to stalk out an irregular enemy in well-disguised ambush positions, the patience to gain information from the local population, and the skills to react rapidly in small, unassisted operations.⁵⁶ This was the world the pre-1914 officers and men knew and understood so well. A definite sense of a return to business as usual and of a fund of hard-gained wisdom can be detected in the Dragon’s comments on the 1st Buffs’ mission in Ireland: Just before the beginning of the New Year, Martial Law was proclaimed in the Southern counties of Ireland, and orders were issued that all arms were to be delivered by a certain date. We, whose business it is to endeavour to enforce peace in the land, feel that if only this had been done a year or even two earlier, all would now be well; and we should be living a peaceful existence in what was, at one time considered, the best station in Ireland. But now we are at war—a pretty ‘cushy’ war as wars go, but it is, at any rate, satisfactory to know that we are officially considered to be on active service. Now we can get on with the business.⁵⁷

The 2nd Buffs was in a similar situation. At the conclusion of hostilities it was posted to Constantinople until April 1919 when it returned to Dover. Leaving the Connaught Barracks, Dover, in November the battalion sailed for India returning to its August 1914 home. Further evidence of the restoration of pre-war routines is not difficult to detect. By October 1922 a clutch of officers were on imperial service secondments including Corrall (Sudan), Crookenden (Nigeria), Pinhey (Nigeria), and E. H. Allen (Kenya). Back in Canterbury the annual cricket week was reinstalled in the social calendar with the Buffs’ marquee erected on the Nackington Road county cricket ground, and the traditional ‘Past versus Present’ match.⁵⁸ The Buffs’ Golfing Society, very much a pre-1914 officers’ preserve, was reinvigorated, and regular competitions were held at courses across East Kent, but especially at Royal St George’s, Sandwich, and Canterbury, a golf club dominated by Buffs officers.⁵⁹ Soldiering therefore drifted away from the hard-nosed, highly professional business established on the Western Front by a combination of pre-war, experienced Regulars, and eager, intelligent newcomers towards a more gentlemanly and low-key affair. Lieutenant-Colonel McDouall reflected this trend in his 1926 privately printed memoir which he dedicated ‘To the Subalterns of the Buffs’.⁶⁰ Covering his life in the Buffs, McDouall structured his autobiography around the horses he had owned. Opening with carefree, pre-war days under the

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Indian sun, the book reads like a cross between a Kipling story and a boy’s own paper. The Great War is treated reverently, and he mentions the loss of old comrades, but the horses remain the stars. This strictly ‘non-shop’ approach meant that not one shred of McDouall’s huge experience and wisdom was passed on in a tangible form; he left his wartime service unanalysed, he resisted any temptation to draw lessons from it, and present any conclusions in a formalised way. McDouall and his fellow Regular officers proved themselves intensely flexible during the conflict, and applied a professional mindset to the problems it created, but this evidence suggests that it was a flexibility and professionalism that prided improvisation and empirical lessons drawn from experience, both past and immediate, over elaborate doctrine and exhortation. McDouall’s Buffs were men of professional wisdom and education, but they never regarded themselves as automatons or slaves to the textbook, for good character was still regarded as the basic building block of the efficient soldier. At the end of the war the East Kent Regiment instigated its own memorial schemes and forms of commemoration. These memorials helped frame the war in a particular way, and imposed an orthodoxy on its meaning. No one was allowed to forget that victory had come at a very high cost, but, equally, no one was allowed to doubt the glory and value of that sacrifice. Within the family of the regiment the Buffs’ old comrades groups strove to maintain its proud traditions, and the spirit of individual battalions. Ex-Buffs withdrew into this private world in order to relive the past and pay tribute to their dead comrades. Crucially, however, the memorials also reached out to the Buffs’ wider community linking bereaved families, and more widely, the entire East Kent region. Canterbury and East Kent looked on the men of the Buffs as their own. The mysteries of military life may have created a barrier, but it was regarded as a transparent one. The people of East Kent saw their own reflection in the Buffs. At the end of the war many Buffs decided to remain within the regiment including a marked number of officers who ‘traded-up’ from temporary wartime commissions. These men provided the reconstituted regiment with a core of experience, and a sense of continuity. However, no one was quite sure whether the lessons taught by the war were of any great value as the regiment slipped back into its pre-1914 routines and activities. The Buffs and the people of East Kent therefore inherited a complex and multifaceted memory of the Great War. NOTES 1. Information from R. S. H. Moody, Historical Records of The Buffs, East Kent Regiment 1914–1919 (London: Medici Society, 1922), 112–14; Kentish Gazette and Canterbury Press, 14 Nov. 1914, 9 Jan. 1915, 19 Feb. 1916. 2. Kentish Gazette, 27 Feb. 1915. 3. Ibid., 4 Sept. 1915.

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4. War Dragon, June 1916, 6; Nov. 1916, 9; Jan. 1917, 3; April 1917, 5; Kentish Gazette, 17 Oct. 1914. 5. Kentish Gazette, 12 Aug. 1916. 6. Ibid., 13 Jan., 3 Feb. 1917. 7. NAM 2001-10-68 Papers relating to Lance-Corporal F. E. Johns, 1st Buffs. 8. NAM 2001-07-525 Papers relating to Lieutenant L. A. Lea Smith, 6th Buffs. 9. NAM 2001-07-610 Papers relating to Private George Crawley, 1st Buffs. 10. NAM 2001-07-1140 Papers relating to Lance-Corporal F. Weller, 2nd Buffs. 11. NAM 2001-11-23 Papers relating to Private Harry Green, 1st Buffs. 12. NAM 2001-07-1140 Papers relating to Lance-Corporal F. Weller, 2nd Buffs. 13. NAM 2001-11-23 Papers relating to Private Harry Green, 1st Buffs. 14. Ibid. 15. NAM 2001-11-62 Papers relating to Captain A. F. Worster, 1st Buffs. 16. NAM 2001-07-525 Papers relating to Lieutenant L. A. Lea Smith, 6th Buffs. 17. Kentish Gazette, 4 Nov. 1916. 18. NAM 2001-10-68 Papers relating to Lance-Corporal F. E. Johns, 1st Buffs. 19. NAM 2001-11-23 Papers relating to Private Harry Green, 1st Buffs. 20. NAM 2001-07-424 Papers relating to Sergeant H. Wire, 7th Buffs. 21. NAM 2001-07-520-1 Papers relating Private Henry Martin, 6th Buffs. 22. NAM 2001-07-625 Papers relating to Corporal William Cotter, 6th Buffs. 23. Dragon, Oct.–Nov. 1920, 25–7. For a further discussion of the Buffs war memorial and commemoration in Canterbury see Peter Donaldson, ‘The Commemoration of the Great War in East Kent, 1919–1924’, unpublished Ph.D. thesis, University of Kent, 2005. 24. Dragon, Jan.–March 1921, 7. 25. See the subscriptions lists in Dragon, April 1921, 41, May 1921, 185, July 1921, 101, Sept. 1921, 152. 26. Kentish Gazette, 6 Aug. 1921; Dragon, Sept. 1921, 149–51. 27. Dragon, Sept. 1921, 151. 28. Ibid. 29. Ibid., 1921, 130. 30. Ibid., May 1921, 70, May 1923, 149. 31. Ibid., Jan.–March 1921, 19. 32. Ibid., Nov. 1923, 433. 33. Ibid., Sept. 1932, 408. 34. Ibid., Jan. 1923, 33, April 1926, 107, March 1930, 118. 35. Ibid., Oct. 1936, 382, Oct. 1938, 347. 36. See, for example, ibid., March 1930, 104, May 1930, 181, March 1934, 78. 37. Ibid., March 1934, 78, Nov. 1935, 416. 38. Ibid., Nov. 1937, 331. 39. Ibid., April 1933, 112. 40. Ibid., March 1934, 78. 41. Kentish Gazette, 31 May 1919. 42. Ibid., 21 June 1919. 43. Ibid., 12 Oct. 1921. 44. Dragon, Nov. 1922, 365. 45. Ibid., Nov. 1921, 259.

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46. Kentish Gazette, 16 April 1921. 47. Ibid.; Dragon, April 1921, 27. 48. Dragon, March 1922, 99. Maidstone, home of the Royal West Kent Regiment, followed its service battalions by adopting Montauban, and donated 1,000 cider apple trees. A traditional product of Kent was therefore transplanted to this twin, a place that Maidstone had gained a stake in thanks to blood and soil. 49. The comparison was made between the Army List for August 1914 and October 1922. 50. See Moody, Historical Records, 421–2; Dragon, June 1920, 87–8. 51. For a discussion of the inter-war army see Keith Jeffrey ‘The Post-War Army’ in I. F. W. Beckett and Keith Simpson (eds.), A Nation in Arms: A Social Study of the British Army in the First World War (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1985), 212–34. 52. Dragon, July 1920, 7, Dec. 1920, 14. 53. Ibid., July 1920, 11, Aug. 1921, 141. 54. Ibid., Feb. 1922, 57. 55. Ibid., Oct. 1921, 208, Dec. 1921, 241. 56. See ibid., Nov. 1920, 12. See Peter Hart, The IRA and its Enemies: Violence and Community in Cork, 1916–1923 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998), 89–90 for an alternative and fuller exploration of the 1st Buffs’ role in Ireland. 57. Dragon, Jan. 1921, 4. 58. Ibid., Aug. 1921, 124, Sept. 1921, 147. 59. See ibid., Oct. 1924, 318 for a good example. 60. Brigadier-General R. A. McDouall, To the Subalterns of the Buffs (privately printed memoir, 1926).

Conclusion Between 1914 and 1918 the Buffs experienced every jolt along the difficult road to victory. The four battalions underwent great transformations, and yet always retained something of their original spirit and composition; they built upon their experiences good and bad, and in the process became powerful instruments of war. The conflict therefore proved to be both an evolutionary and revolutionary period for the Buffs, driven by empiricism rather than doctrine and dogma. In an overall review of the development of the Buffs, primacy of place must be given to the relationship with the key weapon of the conflict, the artillery. As was noted in the introduction, military historians have debated whether the infantry was the servant of the guns during the conflict or vice versa. This analysis has suggested that a mixed lesson was taught on the Western Front. On certain occasions, usually when things went contrary to plan, the infantry was certainly at the mercy of the guns. Heavily fortified machine gun posts that had been left unharmed by the barrage played havoc with the 8th Buffs’ advance against Tea Trench and Wood Lane in August 1916, and the 1st Buffs’ assaults on two different Quadrilaterals, in September 1916 and September 1918. The survival of these key enemy positions meant that the attacking troops were left with no chance of progressing across no man’s land and into the enemy positions. On other occasions the Buffs served as the ‘charlady’ of the guns, simply mopping up after the devastation caused by accurate and sustained shellfire. The 1st Buffs experienced this at Morval in September 1916, and again, alongside the 6th Buffs, at Cambrai in November 1917. These occasions were, though, infrequent and occurred only when a complicated set of factors combined to create a faultless artillery performance. In most assaults a more complex relationship can be seen. The artillery was certainly the springboard of success, but a prerequisite of success was not always utter destruction or even neutralisation of the enemy. Regardless of the effectiveness of a creeping or lifting barrage, if the Buffs stuck close to it—usually by getting well out into no man’s land—they could overwhelm enemy positions. This happened to the 6th and 8th Buffs in August 1916. By contrast, losing the barrage always proved costly, as occurred at Chérisy and Poelcapelle in 1917. The outlines of another scenario can also be deduced, which was also by far the most common faced by the Buffs on the Western Front: namely, a barrage of mixed effectiveness which gave the infantry a good start, but left them with much still to do. On most of these occasions the Buffs showed that they could make up for artillery shortcomings. The 1st Buffs at Hooge in August 1915, the 6th Buffs following up on a

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good, but not utterly brilliant, barrage at Arras in April 1917, and even in more demanding situations such as the scenarios in front of the 6th and 7th Buffs at Chérisy, and the 8th Buffs at Spoilbank—the Buffs still managed to penetrate a good distance and outfight the German defenders. The crucial factor in these scenarios was the ability to reinforce and support the assaults, and this meant ensuring the free passage of no man’s land by good counter-battery work. And it is in this area that the Buffs were often let down: the 1st Buffs noted the extreme difficulty of reinforcing their position across a shell-swept no man’s land at Hooge; the 6th Buffs was caught in a similar situation at Ovillers in July 1916, and was then bombarded as it was forming up for its attack at Gueudecourt in October; a year later the 7th Buffs experienced the same conditions at Poelcappelle. Thus, as the Buffs’ own firepower and tactical skills increased they did gain the ability to deal with unsuppressed German defenders, for example the 6th Buffs’ actions against the Houlette Work (Arras, April 1917) and Pam Pam Farm (Cambrai, November 1917), provided the British artillery stopped German guns interfering with their actions on the battlefield and their reinforcement with men, munitions, and supplies. This ability to deploy efficient and effective tactics and weapons against the enemy without constant overwhelming artillery support was seen most clearly in the 100 Days in semi-open and open warfare conditions. Faced with the scenario of loosely connected German defences, particularly those to the front and rear of the Hindenburg Line, and often unable to utilise the now excellent, but still rather cumbersome, heavy artillery because of the rapid tempo of events, the Buffs proved more than capable of using their own firepower and tactical knowledge to overwhelm the enemy, and were by no means tied to the apron strings of the artillery. However, it should be noted that when engaging full defences, as along the St Quentin canal in September, the whole force of the British artillery was still required. Tracing these tactical developments requires the identification of instigators. Who was behind the changes in formations and structures? Was it a top-down or bottom-up process? In 1916, the pattern was dominated by the Fourth Army Red Book and the pamphlet, the Training of Divisions for Offensive Action (SS 109). Therefore, the broad parameters were set by higher command, but the records left by the Buffs show that the commanding officers of the individual battalions were left with the chance to create their own blends. For example, Ransome of the 7th battalion forged ahead with his own preparations for 1 July leaving little to chance. Green, commanding the 1st Buffs, switched tactical formations between the assaults of 15 and 25 September, while Cope, 6th Buffs, provided detailed instruction of deployment for his assault on 6 October. Drawing on the lessons of the Somme, there was a revolution in the spring of 1917 when platoons were restructured. This restructuring could occur thanks to the greater availability of weapons and the spread of experience. During the course of 1917 the Buffs moved towards greater homogeneity of approach, but it still left room for individual

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commanders to make critical decisions regarding the preparation and deployment of their men. Training was clearly crucial to the smooth operation of tactical formations and directions. In this particular area divisional commanders appeared to be the vital factor and conduit, for they often set the general agenda, but left the battalion commanders to create their own schemes and programmes. As might be expected, this trend was seen most strongly in the 18 Division where Ransome had to submit his ideas on training to Maxse and his successor, Lee, for approval. Observation of action also brought up training issues. Ransome and Cope were so dismayed by what they saw at Chérisy that both ordered immediate remedial training in musketry. Achieving a balance between training and operational demands was the final factor. On the Somme in 1916 Haig’s desire to both deploy tanks and keep them a secret meant that the 1st Buffs had no idea how to operate with the new weapon. A year later, however, both the 1st and 6th Buffs were given full instruction in tank work covering every possible combination of circumstances. Given this generally laissez-faire approach to training and tactics, the lack of discretion lower level commanders were given in terms of orders and schedules for battle was somewhat ironic. In 1916 plans were stuck to rigidly regardless of local circumstances, which often led to disaster. A further structural problem within the BEF’s higher command was the inability to recognise when the door of opportunity had slammed shut. The Buffs suffered the extremely dispiriting experience of taking part in well-planned and effective opening assaults only to be pitched back into battle long after any reasonable prospects of success had passed, with the 6th Buffs’ hugely contrasting experiences at Arras and Chérisy in April and May 1917 providing the most obvious example. However, it is clear that at no stage was command and control so tight and constricting that all initiative was stripped from the battalion commanders. Cope personally intervened in artillery matters in August 1916 in order to ensure greater effectiveness, and he ventured into no man’s land in October to provide immediate, on-the-spot direction in a rapidly disintegrating assault, while Green halted all further attacks on 15 September after watching the debacle of the opening advance. Ransome and Cope were in the front-line trench at Chérisy and, as noted, both drew clear lessons from the experience. Below the battalion commanders the Buffs relied on good leadership from subalterns and NCOs, and the war diaries of the battalions throw up example after example proving that it was delivered. To take just a few cases, at Hooge in August 1915 the 1st Buffs was given a clear steer by the orders and examples of Lieutenant Davies and Second Lieutenant Dangerfield, and on 1 July 1916 Captain Kenchington played a crucial role in the advance of the 7th Buffs. Turning to NCOs, it is clear that on 25 September 1916 Sergeant Dowman’s use of the bombers was vital to the smooth opening of the assault, and is further evidenced by his recommendation for the Victoria Cross. The Buffs’ sole Victoria Cross winner of the war, Corporal Cotter, won his award thanks to his calm

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Conclusion

command during the struggle for the craters around the Hohenzollern Redoubt in March 1916. Cotter was a reservist who had been sent to the 6th Buffs as a ‘stiffener’, and this leavening of experience clearly proved very useful in the service battalions. Two sergeants, Shute and Poll, led the 8th Buffs’ assault at Spoilbank in August 1917, and then organised its defence, after all the officers had become casualties in the opening advance. In 1918 matters leapt forward again. In terms of training, raw recruits had to be initiated very quickly, but thanks to the lining of experience and flexibility within battalions this process appears to have been remarkably smooth. The one area of seeming serious deficiency was the training for defensive operations. However, the disasters of the spring of 1918 cannot be attributed to the training and tactical preparation alone. The key factor undermining the Buffs during March was the combination of the lack of manpower for length of front covered combined with a defensive strategy on which they had no real grip or understanding. Tactically, the Buffs improved in terms of their own firepower potential and thanks to further refinements of the platoon structure influenced by locally arranged experiments and trials. During the ‘100 Days’ the Buffs proved more than capable of manoeuvre, infiltration, and outflanking tactics, and co-operating with a wide range of other arms from aircraft to bicycle detachments. This advance towards a more flexible force was matched by developments in command and control structures. In both the defensive and offensive battles of 1918 the Buffs’ commanding officers exercised an enormous amount of influence compared with earlier years. Power was devolved downwards leaving men like Ransome and Smeltzer with the ability to liaise with their brigadiers and either halt or continue assaults according to the local situation. In turn, greater emphasis was placed on subalterns and NCOs to show their initiative. The Buffs certainly did not lack this quality. Lieutenant Whitmarsh, 7th Buffs, captured Montauban after realising the opportunity was there for the grasping; Lieutenant Field of the 6th Buffs organised an assault on a field gun battery; Lieutenant Barber of the 1st Buffs directed the attack on a farmhouse in an operation that would have been regarded as a brigadier’s responsibility in 1914; and Sergeant-Major Smith restored the momentum of an attack by personally liaising with a leading tank at Vendhuile. A crucial aspect of this success was the Buffs’ ability to deploy their own weapons systems and work in co-operation with others, a topic that has been much debated by military historians. Therefore it is worth asking whether the Buffs made best use of the available technologies, and whether they were given the opportunity to use technology. The evidence shows that none of the Buffs battalions can be labelled technophobic. Every weapon was grasped and used as soon as it became available, as is shown by the 1st Buffs’ improvised mortars in 1915, and the penchant among all battalions for grenades, rifle-grenades, Lewis guns, and light mortars. The problem definitely was not one of attitude or mindset, but supply and reliability. Eventually superiority over the enemy in this respect was achieved, and it proved vital to performance on the battlefield. The Buffs also learnt to work with technologies outside their control, most noticeably

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aircraft and tanks, but the tank definitely was not a panacea. The dominating technology was artillery, and by 1918 a flexible and winning combination had been painstakingly assembled thanks to intelligence and experience. The Buffs’ learning curve was ascended via a mixed process of top-down and bottom-up actions that created a winning mixture; the criticism that can be made is that the higher command, especially in 1916, failed to take a firmer co-ordinating grip ensuring the right synergies. The stresses of warfare on the Western Front that forced these developments were reflected in the personnel of the battalions. During the course of the war 32,000 officers and men passed through the regiment, with the majority serving on the Western Front. Evolutionary and revolutionary movement can certainly be seen in this respect. On the evolutionary side, the Buffs retained a remarkable consistency in terms of officers. As was shown, pre-war Regular officers were rotated between the battalions ensuring the survival of the regimental ethos, and a consistent streak of experience and knowledge. At the same time, the pre-war mindset proved sufficiently evolutionary to accept and respect New Army temporary officers and give them the chance to show off their talents. Evolutionary and revolutionary forces were then seen at work in the way the Buffs used their own NCOs as officers. This was evolutionary in its sense of internal nurturing and development, but revolutionary in its social implications, as men who had once been used to carrying out the orders of their superiors were suddenly made equals. That this process did not cause social and cultural chaos leading to military inefficiency in the Buffs is truly amazing, and a remarkable tribute to all involved. Regimental pride and the call of duty, in both its spiritual and practical senses, above all other considerations must have played an important role in this development. A similar story of conflicting, yet ultimately co-operative, forces can be detected in the NCOs and men. Each of the service battalions was stiffened by a lining of experienced Regulars, and buttressed by the promotion of new men with strong character and relevant leadership skills. Cohesion was further achieved by the geographical links of the battalions. Although only the 1st and 6th Buffs can be thought of as truly and thoroughly East Kent in flavour, the remaining two battalions had a core of East Kent men, and this core was retained throughout the war. As conscripts began to flow in, the majority came from the south-east, which at least allowed a rough geographical unity to survive. It was the lining of experienced men that then pulled the battalions through, particularly in 1918, as more and more patchily trained conscripts were sent as reinforcements. Overall, it can be stated that snobbery was not a major problem, and it certainly did not stop the progression of talented individuals. In certain instances strong bonds were forged that ploughed across all boundaries of class and education, as between the Malvern and Cambridge educated Lieutenant Barham, and the commissioned sergeant, Corrall. In addition, some New Army officers obviously felt sufficiently at home in their surroundings to apply for a Regular commission, with the most notable case that of Eric Foster Hall, who pursued a long military career into the Second World War and beyond. Discipline and morale never

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appear to have created consistent or worrying problems. There were difficulties in the 1st and 6th Buffs during the winter of 1915–16 when the appalling state of the trenches and proximity of the enemy in the southern Ypres and Loos sectors placed a great deal of stress on the men, and resulted in the first execution cases in the regiment. Aside from this period, little out of the ordinary can be detected, and the records of execution cases, diaries, and letters show that officers were aware of their paternal responsibilities and the men appreciated it. The key factors influencing cohesion and military efficiency were the casualty rates of the battalions. Trying to decipher casualty figures is tricky, thanks to the welter of conflicting and inconsistent statistics given in the records. In order to attempt some analysis an investigation was made based on OR fatalities using Soldiers Died in the Great War. Although by no means an absolutely reliable indicator, omitting as they do PoWs, missing, wounded, and injured, they do nonetheless create some interesting statistics and patterns. 1: Days in Action by Year, OR Battle Fatalities, Total OR Fatalities by Year (per battalion) 1st Buffs Days in Action¹

Battle Fatalities

Raids Fatalities

Total Fatalities

1914 1915 1916 1917 1918

7 2 3 10 8

115 30 159 67 146

– – 0 45 25

135 174 287 246 275

Totals:

30

517

70

1,117

Battle Fatalities

Raids Fatalities²

Total Fatalities

Average per month: 21.9 Average per year: 279 Total ‘trench holding’ fatalities: 530 6th Buffs Days in Action¹ 1914 1915 1916 1917 1918

– 1 4 10 17

– 188 298 250 175

– – 0 15 9

– 264 415 405 262

Totals:

32

911

24

1,346

Average per month: 32 Average per year: 384 Total ‘trench holding’ fatalities: 411

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Conclusion 7th Buffs Days in Action¹

Battle Fatalities

Raids Fatalities

Total Fatalities

1914 1915 1916 1917 1918

– – 11 7 17

– – 177 265 262

– – – – –

– 30 248 409 364

Totals:

36

704

–

1,051

Battle Fatalities

Raids Fatalities

Total Fatalities

Average per month: 26.2 Average per year: 309 Total ‘trench holding’ fatalities: 344 8th Buffs Days in Action¹ 1914 1915 1916 1917 1918

– 1 3 8 0

– 163 96 45 0

– – 4 3 –

– 203 231 140 7

Totals:

12

304

7

581

Average per month: 18 Average per year: 224 Total ‘trench holding’ fatalities: 277 ¹ Includes attacks, raids, and German attacks ² As stated in Ch. 4, these figures are hard to judge with any great certainty due to incomplete records

Totals Days in Action¹

Battle Fatalities

Raids Fatalities

Total Fatalities

1914 1915 1916 1917 1918

7 4 21 35 42

115 381 730 630 583

– – 4 63 34

135 671 1,181 1,200 908

Totals:

109

2,439

101

4,095

¹ Includes attacks, raids, and German attacks

Total fatalities in action: 2,539 Total fatalities holding the trenches: 1,455. These fatalities are certainly too high for they also include men who died by other causes.

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Conclusion

Averaged battle fatalities per day by year: 1914: 16 1915: 95 1916: 35 1917: 18 1918: 14

Using these statistics it can be seen that consistency is hard to find. For the 1st Buffs the bloodiest year in terms of gross fatalities was 1916, but by fatalities per day in action it was 1918. A similar discrepancy can be seen in the 6th Buffs in which 1916 was the bloodiest year in terms of gross fatalities, but by fatalities by day in action it was 1915. For the 7th and 8th Buffs there is slightly more consistency. In the 7th Buffs, 1917 was the worst year according to both indicators, whereas the disaster of Loos made 1915 the 8th Buffs’ most traumatic year. However, a fascinating statistic is revealed by the averaged battle fatalities per day by year which show a consistent and marked falling away, despite the fact that the gross number of days in action went up three and a half times. This implies heavily that the BEF was improving, and was committing fewer men to battle with more offensive capacity and lethal delivery ability. Another insight into the ebb and flow of manpower in the Buffs can be glimpsed via a sample of three monthly surveys. The 1st Buffs was used for this experiment, and months in which the battalion was engaged in its normal duties were chosen deliberately, in order to steer it away from the battle statistics given above; for this reason 1918 was avoided altogether, as it was the year in which the battalion switched from the defensive to the offensive with great rapidity and fought almost continually except for a very quiet patch in July and August. 1st Buffs casualties and additions June 1915 2–18: In billets 4: Captain Hart transferred to 2nd Buffs 6: 28 OR join 7: Billets shelled. Lieutenant Taylor killed 18: Enter trenches at La Brique (southern Ypres sector). 1 OR killed, 2 wounded. 1 officer to hospital, 1 rejoins from hospital, 1 reports for duty 19: 1 officer reports for duty. 5 OR killed, 19 wounded 20: 2 OR killed, 5 wounded, 5 suffering effects of gas 21: 2 OR killed, 2 wounded, 9 suffering effects of gas 22: 4 OR killed, 8 wounded 23: 2 OR killed, 4 wounded 24: 1 OR killed, 9 wounded 25: 3 officers and 70 OR report for duty 26: To second line. 14 OR wounded

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27: 1 OR killed 29: 2 OR wounded Increases: 6 officers, 98 OR Decreases: 3 officers, 97 OR March 1916 1–5: In camp. 75 OR, 1 officer report 5: Enter trenches in Railway Wood (central Ypres sector) 6: 1 officer reports for duty 7: 1 OR killed, 3 wounded 9: 1 OR killed 10–14: Billets in Ypres 15: Relieved in Ypres and entrained for Poperinghe 16: Arrive rest camp at Calais 18–26: Sports and recreations in camp 28: 36 OR join 29–31: Exercises, training and instruction at Wormhoudt Increases: 2 officers, 75 OR Decreases: 5 OR February 1917 1: In reserve line at Noyelles-Mazingarbe (Loos). 1 OR dies of wounds 2: In support line. 1 man accidentally wounded 3: 4 OR report for duty 5: 3 officers report for duty 6–9: In front line 11: 1 officer to hospital 12: Battalion inspected by Haig. Private Gilham’s sentence remitted (his death sentence for desertion had been remitted and the case dismissed due to lack of evidence) 13: 4 sergeants to Royal Flying Corps on probation. Field General Court Martial on Private Cox 14: To Bethune 15: To Robecq. 1 OR dies of wounds 16: FGCM on Private Smith for self-inflicted wound 17: 1 officer and 14 OR report for duty 19: Company reorganisation (according to SS143). 1 Sergeant leaves for officer training 20: 1 officer and 12 OR report for duty 21: In billets at Robecq where a new training programme is commenced (presumably based on SS143) 22: FGCM on Corporal Bennett 23: Lieutenant-Colonel Green returns from secondment to 16 IB HQ. 1 OR killed 24: 1 officer returns from hospital. Training continues

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Conclusion

25: Green departs for leave 26–7: Training and sport 28: March to Bethune Increases: 5 officers, 30 OR (excludes officer who went to hospital and returned, and Green) Decreases: 10 OR (including 1 OR died at home) Note: in all instances the numbers of OR lost are probably on the low side, as those evacuated to hospital were not recorded as rigorously as officers. The immediate pattern to assert itself here is the significantly shorter time the battalion spent in the trenches after 1915. The BEF’s trained manpower overstretch in the summer of 1915 meant that the 1st Buffs spent eleven days in the trenches in June 1915, but only four in March 1916, and nine in February 1917. As fewer days were spent in the trenches, more time could be allotted to increasingly sophisticated training and fitness schedules. In June 1915 not one day was spent training, but in March 1916 and February 1917 well over half the time was dedicated to training and sporting activities. The numbers of casualties were also greatly reduced thanks to the introduction of steel helmets, the construction of better trenches, the quicker rotation between lines, and the increased ability to retaliate rapidly. Finally, it should also be noted that sickness could still be as great a problem as the enemy, as is highlighted in the table below referring to the 8th Buffs in 1917: Totals 1917

Casualties

Sickness

January February March April May June July August September October November December January 1918

79 10 28 69 2 207 145 115 27 5 9 3 3

25 61 62 99 98 36 89 72 24 21 39 40 34

Totals:

702

700

The effects of the cold April and May, and the miserably wet July and August on men exposed to the elements are made very clear in these statistics. Bad weather could have an attrition effect almost equal to enemy action.

239

Conclusion

Turning to officer casualties, it is possible to plot a line completely opposite the generally downward move of OR battle fatalities during the course of the war. For officers the situation became steadily more dangerous. The figures below are not quite simple comparators as, unlike those given above, they represent total officer casualties, which are more easily followed through the records. However, these figures must also be regarded as approximate due to inconsistent record keeping. 2: Officer Casualties by Battalion and Year 1btn

6btn

7btn

8btn

Total by year

Averaged by battalion

1914 1915 1916 1917 1918

16 4 9 26 28

– 11 33 48 59

– 1 27 25 37¹

– 10 18 35 –

16 26 87 134 124

16 7 22 34 41²

Total

83

151

90

63

Overall Total: 387 ¹ Many figures missing for ‘100 Days’, and so almost certainly too low ² Divided by 3 rather than 4, as 8th Buffs was wound up in February 1918

When examining the officer casualties, particularly in late 1917 and into 1918, it becomes more and more obvious that the junior second lieutenants were the most vulnerable. Expected to set an example and show leadership qualities, and therefore plunged into stressful situations from the moment they reported for duty, but hampered by a distinct lack of experience, they often found themselves exposed at the most dangerous moments. The impact of these losses on the Buffs’ home community in East Kent was significant. Throughout the war, and well after the battalions had gained a good admixture of men from outside the region, East Kent continued to look on them with pride. At an early stage comforts and prisoner of war committees were formed, which provided an important outlet for many women in particular. These committees took great care to trace and contact the men, supply them with many essentials and little luxuries, and provide them with the reassurance that those at home had not forgotten them, while the East Kent press retained a keen interest in the battalions, reporting news of casualties and promotions with obsessive regularity and detail. After the war this emotional attachment was kept alive by the adoption of ‘Buffs’ villages’ in France, and the erection and completion of several war memorials, not least of which was the regiment’s wartime history written by the former Buff, Colonel R. S. H. Moody. Many of the men themselves joined both the full regimental association and battalion associations in order to remember their comrades and keep alive the wartime spirit.

240

Conclusion

For the Buffs, the war was an extremely complex phenomenon. At one and the same time it demanded both huge changes and the retention of the regiment’s and the army’s traditional bonds, codes, and practices. In order to create a successful blend the traditional elements had to show the ability to adapt and develop under the onslaught of modern war. Ultimately, this was achieved, and as such the Buffs can be seen as typical of the BEF as a whole during the Great War.

APPENDIX 1A PLACES OF BIRTH, RESIDENCE, AND ENLISTMENT OF ORIGINAL COHORTS OF THE 1ST, 6TH, 7TH, AND 8TH BUFFS ACCORDING TO SOLDIERS DIED IN THE GREAT WAR

1st Battalion, First Casualty–31 December 1914 Number born, enlisted and resident in Kent: 98 Number enlisted and resident in Kent: 14 Number born and resident in Kent, but enlisted elsewhere: 1 Number born and enlisted in Kent, but resident elsewhere: 6 Number born in Kent, but enlisted and resident elsewhere: 1 Number resident in Kent, but born and enlisted elsewhere: 1 Numbers born elsewhere: London and SE: 17 East Anglia: 3 Midlands: 1 Yorkshire: 0 South-West: 2 North-West: 0 North-East: 0 Scotland: 0 Wales: 0 Ireland:1 Other: 2

6th Battalion, 25 September–31 October 1915 Number born, enlisted and resident in Kent: 108 Number enlisted and resident in Kent: 17 Number born and resident in Kent, but enlisted elsewhere: 14 Number born and enlisted in Kent, but resident elsewhere: 1 Number born in Kent, but resident and enlisted elsewhere: 2 Number resident in Kent, but born and enlisted elsewhere: 8 Numbers born elsewhere: London and SE: 40 East Anglia: 0 Midlands: 7 Yorkshire: 0 South-West: 2 North-West: 5 North-East: 0

242

Appendix 1a

Scotland: 0 Wales: 2 Ireland: 1

7th Battalion, 1–18 July 1916 Number born, enlisted and resident in Kent: 28 Number enlisted and resident in Kent: 4 Number born and resident in Kent, but enlisted elsewhere: 0 Number born and enlisted in Kent, but resident elsewhere: 0 Number born in Kent, but resident and enlisted elsewhere: 0 Number resident in Kent, but born and enlisted elsewhere: 1 Numbers born elsewhere: London and SE: 35 (Surrey in particular) East Anglia: 13 Midlands: 0 Yorkshire: 0 South-West: 0 North-West: 3 North-East: 0 Scotland: 0 Wales: 0 Ireland: 0

8th Battalion, 25–8 September 1915 Number born, enlisted and resident in Kent: 28 Number enlisted and resident in Kent: 5 Number born and resident in Kent, but enlisted elsewhere: 1 Number born and enlisted in Kent, but resident elsewhere: 0 Number born in Kent, but resident and listed elsewhere: 5 Number resident in Kent, but born and enlisted elsewhere: 0 Numbers born elsewhere: London and SE: 113 (particularly metropolitan Surrey) East Anglia: 2 Midlands: 4 Yorkshire: 2 South-West: 0 North-West: 1 North-East: 0 Scotland: 0 Wales: 1 Ireland: 0 Note: Casualties in this instance refers to deaths (killed, died of wounds, and died)

APPENDIX 1B PLACES OF BIRTH, RESIDENCE, AND ENLISTMENT OF 1918 MEN OF THE 1ST, 6TH, 7TH, 8TH BUFFS ACCORDING TO SOLDIERS DIED IN THE GREAT WAR

1st Battalion Number born, enlisted and resident in Kent: 55 Number enlisted and resident in Kent: 11 Number born and resident in Kent, but enlisted elsewhere: 2 Number born and enlisted in Kent, but resident elsewhere: 5 Number born in Kent, but enlisted and resident elsewhere: 0 Number resident in Kent, but born and enlisted elsewhere: 2 Numbers born elsewhere: London and SE: 141 East Anglia: 23 Midlands: 5 Yorkshire: 0 South-West: 5 North-West: 0 North-East: 6 Scotland: 2 Wales: 2 Ireland: 0 Other: 0

6th Battalion Number born, enlisted and resident in Kent: 48 Number enlisted and resident in Kent: 13 Number born and resident in Kent, but enlisted elsewhere: 0 Number born and enlisted in Kent, but resident elsewhere: 1 Number born in Kent, but enlisted and resident elsewhere: 5 Number resident in Kent, but born and enlisted elsewhere: 1 Numbers born elsewhere: London and SE: 110 East Anglia: 20 Midlands: 25 Yorkshire: 10 South-West: 3 North-West: 6 North-East: 10

244

Appendix 1b

Scotland: 0 Wales: 4 Ireland: 0 Other: 10

7th Battalion Number born, enlisted and resident in Kent: 55 Number enlisted and resident in Kent: 18 Number born and resident in Kent, but enlisted elsewhere: 3 Number born and enlisted in Kent, but resident elsewhere: 1 Number born in Kent, but enlisted and resident elsewhere: 5 Number resident in Kent, but born and enlisted elsewhere: 0 Numbers born elsewhere: London and SE: 152 East Anglia: 32 Midlands: 61 Yorkshire: 11 South-West: 10 North-West: 12 North-East: 3 Scotland: 2 Wales: 6 Ireland: 0 Other: 1

8th Battalion (Disbanded February 1918) Number born, enlisted and resident in Kent: 1 Number enlisted and resident in Kent: 0 Number born and resident in Kent, but enlisted elsewhere: 0 Number born and enlisted in Kent, but resident elsewhere: 0 Number born in Kent, but enlisted and resident elsewhere: 0 Number resident in Kent, but born and enlisted elsewhere: 0 Numbers born elsewhere: London and SE: 4 East Anglia: 0 Midlands: 1 Yorkshire: 0 South-West: 0 North-West: 0 North-East: 0 Scotland: 1 Wales: 0 Ireland: 0 Other: 0

APPENDIX 1C BUFFS SOLDIERS CONDEMNED TO DEATH, 1914–19¹ Rank/name

Battalion Date of Court Martial

Pte G. Standed Pte A. Colaluca Pte C. Taylor Pte A. Eveleigh Pte A. Eveleigh Pte E. Blackman Pte A. Webb Pte S. Bilton Pte E. A. Poynter Pte R. W. Gawler

2 8 8 1 1 1 1 1 1 1

19/07/15 2/12/15 2/12/15 5/01/16 13/02/16 20/01/16 20/01/16 29/01/16 05/02/16 10/02/16

Pte W. L. Thompson Pte E. J. Quigley Pte A. Bowsher Pte J. Scott Pte J. Cottingham Pte F. Berry Pte H. Gilham Pte A. Bowsher Pte J. Herbert Pte W. J. Assister Pte G. Hastings Pte F. C. Gore Pte G. Burton Pte F. C. Butcher Pte W. Merrills Pte F. C. Butcher Pte J. Gull

6 1 8 5 6 6 1 8 2 8 8 7 2 7 7 7 1

4/04/16 9/05/16 20/05/16 21/07/16 18/08/16 11/09/16 4/11/16 6/12/16 29/12/16 18/08/17 30/08/17 8/09/17 29/12/17 7/06/18 7/06/18 23/07/18 25/07/18

Crime

Final Punishment

Sleeping at post Sleeping at post Sleeping at post Desertion Desertion Desertion Desertion Desertion Desertion Desertion (two counts) Desertion Desertion Desertion Sleeping at post Sleeping at post Sleeping at post Desertion Desertion Sleeping at post Desertion Desertion Desertion Sleeping at post Desertion Desertion Desertion Sleeping at post (two counts)

3 years’ Penal Servitude Quashed Quashed 10 years’ Penal Servitude Executed 24/2/16 10 years’ Penal Servitude 10 years’ Penal Servitude 10 years’ Penal Servitude 10 years’ Penal Servitude Executed 24/2/16 Executed 22/4/16 5 years’ Penal Servitude 10 years’ Penal Servitude 5 years’ Penal Servitude 5 years’ Penal Servitude 5 years’ Penal Servitude Charge not confirmed 10 years’ Penal Servitude 2 years’ Hard Labour 2 years’ Hard Labour 10 years’ Penal Servitude Executed 16/10/17 2 years’ Hard Labour 5 years’ Penal Servitude 5 years’ Penal Servitude Executed 27/08/18 5 years’ Penal Servitude

(It should be noted that in many instances the final punishment was also commuted, and most men were returned to their unit) ¹ Information drawn from Gerald Oram, Death Sentences Passed by Military Courts of the British Army, 1914–1924 (London: Francis Boutle, 1998)

APPENDIX 2A RAIDING BY BUFFS BATTALIONS WITHIN THE DIVISIONAL CONTEXT Battalion

Date

Sector

1 8 6

9 March 28 June 8 September

Ypres Ypres Arras

8 8 1 1 6

26 January 27 March 30 March 24 June 9 August

Loos Loos Loos Loos Arras

6 1

16 May 1 August

Somme Ypres

1916

1917

1918

Totals by battalion 1st Buffs: 4 6th Buffs: 3 8th Buffs: 3 7th Buffs: 0

Divisional Tables (Joint raids are counted once for each battalion) 6 Division Raids (statistics taken from T. O. Marden, A Short History of the Sixth Division August 1914–March 1919 (London: Hugh Rees, 1920), Appendix II) First raid: 24 January 1916; last raid: 2 August 1918 Raiding by brigade and number of raids by battalion 16 IB

18 IB

71 IB

1st Buffs: 4 1st KSLI: 3 2nd York and Lancs: 2 8th Beds: 3¹

1st W. Yorks: 2 2nd DLI: 7 14th DLI: 3¹ 11th Essex: 4

2nd S. Foresters: 4 9th Norfolk: 3 9th Suffolk: 3¹ 1st Leics: 3

Total: 12

Total: 16

Total: 13

Overall total: 41 ¹ Unit disbanded in February 1918

247

Appendix 2a

Regular units: 25 raids Service units: 16 raids Note: However, two regular units carried out the smallest number of raids, 2nd York and Lancs and 1st W. Yorks. Brigade ‘leaders’ and ‘trailers’ 16 IB: 1st Buffs (four); 2nd York and Lancs (two) (both regular) 18 IB: 2nd DLI (seven); 1st W. Yorks (two) (both regular) 71 IB: 2nd S. Foresters (four); 1st Leics–9th Norfolk–9th Suffolk (three each) (regular leader and regular/service joint second) Frequency of raids by brigade

January–March 1916: April–June 1916: July–September 1916: October–December 1916: January–March 1917: April–June 1917: July–September 1917: October–December 1917: January–March 1918: April–June 1918: July–September 1918: October–December 1918: Totals: Overall Total: 41

Heaviest raiding periods: April–June 1917: 16 raids July–September 1917: 7 raids January–March 1917: 6 raids Quiet periods: January–March 1916: 3 raids July–September 1916: 3 raids April–June 1916: 3 raids January–March 1918: 2 raids July–September 1918: 1 raid April–June 1916: 0 October–December 1916: 0 October–December 1917: 0 October–December 1918: 0

16 IB

18 IB

71 IB

Total

1 0 0 0 2 4 2 0 1 1 1 0

2 0 1 0 3 6 2 0 0 2 0 0

0 0 2 0 1 6 3 0 1 0 0 0

3 0 3 0 6 16 7 0 2 3 1 0

12

16

13

41

248

Appendix 2a

12 Division raids (statistics taken from Major-General Sir Arthur B. Scott and P. Middleton Brumwell, The History of the 12th (Eastern) Division in the Great War, 1914–1918 (London: Nisbet & Co. Ltd.,1923)) First raid: 4 September 1916; last raid: 17 September 1918 Raiding by brigade and number of raids by battalion 35 IB

36 IB

37 IB

7th Norfolk: 3 7th Sufffolk: 2¹ 9th Essex: 3 5th Berks: 1²

8th R. Fusiliers: 0³ 9th R. Fusiliers: 1 7th R. Sussex: 1 11th Middlesex: 1⁴

6th Queen’s: 6 6th Buffs: 4⁵ 7th E. Surrey: 1⁴ 6th RWK: 2

Total: 9

Total: 3 ⫹ 1 5th Berks (4)

Total: 13

Overall Total: 26 ¹ Disbanded in April 1918, remnants absorbed by 1st Cambridgeshire on joining the division. ² Second raid was actually carried out when the 5th Berks had become part of the 36 Brigade in April 1918 ³ Disbanded in February 1918, remnants absorbed by 9th R. Fusiliers ⁴ Disbanded in February 1918 ⁵ Plus two abandoned thanks to enemy activity

Brigade ‘leaders’ and ‘trailers’ 35 IB: There was a remarkable consistently in this brigade. 7th Norfolk and 9th Essex raided three times each and the 7th Suffolk and 5th Berks twice (but the second 5th Berks raid was carried out when it had been transferred to the 36 IB). 36 IB: The 9th R. Fusiliers, 7th R. Sussex and 11th Middlesex all raided once each. The 8th R. Fusiliers appear never to have raided or attempted a raid. 37 IB: 6th Queen’s led with six and the 7th E. Surrey was lowest with one. Frequency of raids by brigade: 35 IB

36 IB

37 IB

Total

January–March 1916: April–June 1916: July–September 1916: October–December 1916: January–March 1917: April–June 1917: July–September 1917: October–December 1917: January–March 1918: April–June 1918: July–September 1918: October–December 1918:

0 0 1 0 1 0 2 1 2 0 2 0

0 0 0 0 1 0 1 0 1 1 0 0

0 0 1 1 1 1 2 3 2 1 1 0

0 0 2 1 3 1 5 4 5 2 3 0

Totals:

9

4

13

26

Overall Total: 26

249

Appendix 2a Heaviest raiding periods: July–September 1917: 5 raids January–March 1918: 5 raids October–December 1917: 4 raids January–March 1917: 3 raids July–September 1918: 3 raids Quiet periods: January–June 1916: 0 raids October–December 1918: 0 raids October–December 1916: 1 raid April–June 1917: 1 raid July–September 1916: 2 raids April–June 1918: 2 raids

24 Division raids (statistics compiled from Divisional war diary and Commonwealth War Graves Commission Divisional Record, Imperial War Museum) First raid: 4 June 1916; last raid: 10 September 1918 Raiding by brigade and number of raids by battalion 17 IB

72 IB

73 IB

1st R. Fusiliers: 4 12th R. Fusiliers: 2¹ 8th Buffs: 3¹ 3rd Rifle Bde: 3

8th Queen’s: 2² 9th E. Surrey: 1 8th RWK: 2 1st N. Staffs: 4

9th R. Sussex: 0 7th Northants: 4 13th Middlesex: 1 2nd Leinster: 1³

Total: 11

Total: 9

Total: 6

Overall total: 26 ¹ Units disbanded in February 1918 ² Transferred to 17 IB in February 1918 ³ Left brigade in February 1918

Brigade leaders and trailers 17 IB: The regular unit of the 1st R. Fusiliers closely followed by another unit with a high reputation to uphold, the 3rd Rifle Bde, led with four and three raids respectively. The two service units of 8th Buffs and 12th R. Fusiliers followed with two raids each. This brigade led the division with eleven raids, probably reflecting the onus placed on two ‘prestige’ units to maintain an aggressive attitude. 72 IB: Once again a regular unit provided the brigade leader, the 1st N. Staffs with four raids followed by the 8th Queen’s, and 8th RWK with two each and the 9th E. Surrey carried out one. 73 IB: A service unit led this brigade: the 7th Northants with four; of the three other battalions, the regular 2nd Leinster raided only once, as did the service 13th Middlesex, and the 9th R. Sussex did not raid at all.

250

Appendix 2a

Frequency of raiding by brigade 17 IB

72 IB

73 IB

Total

January–March 1916 April–June 1916 July–September 1916 October–December 1916 January–March 1917 April–June 1917 July–September 1917 October–December 1917 January–March 1918 April–June 1918 July–September 1918 October–December 1918

0 1 2 0 4 0 1 0 1 1 2 0

0 2 0 0 3 0 0 1 1 1 1 0

0 0 1 1 2 0 0 1 0 0 1 0

0 3 3 1 9 0 1 2 2 2 4 0

Totals:

12

9

6

27

Overall Total: 27

Heaviest raiding periods: January–March 1917: 8 raids July–September 1918: 4 raids April–June 1916: 3 raids July–September 1916: 3 raids January–March 1917: 2 raids Quiet periods: October–December 1916: 1 July–September 1917: 1 January–March 1916: 0 April–June 1916: 0 April–June 1917: 0 July–September 1917: 0 January–March 1918: 0 April–June 1918: 0 October–December 1918: 0

APPENDIX 2B OVERALL CASUALTIES INCURRED BY THE BUFFS DURING RAIDS

Casualties by Battalion 1st Buffs Total numbers involved in raids: Officers: 13 OR: 471

Officers OR

Killed/died of wounds

Wounded

Prisoner

Total

3* 70

5 101

1 0

9 171 180

Total casualties expressed as a percentage of numbers involved: Officers: 69 per cent OR: 38 per cent Overall: 39 per cent¹ * Does not include battalion medical officer, Captain R. W. Jones RAMC, died of wounds received while tending to the wounded in raid on 2 August 1918.

6th Buffs Total numbers involved in raids: Officers: 10* OR: 262*

Officers OR

Killed/died of wounds

Wounded

Prisoner

2 24

3 60

0 0

Total 5 84 89

Total casualties expressed as a percentage of numbers involved: Officers: 50 per cent OR: 32 per cent Total: 33 per cent² * (a) Figures for 6th Buffs are incomplete due to unclear records and the discrepancies are as follows: the records for the battalion’s first raid on 8 September 1916 state only that 20 men took part and do not differentiate between officers and men. It is, however, clear that none became casualties. These figures are excluded from the calculations given above. (b) No precise figures can be found for those who took part in the raid on 14 October 1917, and so

252

Appendix 2b

have also been excluded from the totals. (c) Although casualty figures for the abortive raid on Aveluy Wood on 20 June 1918 are available, the total force committed was not recorded. However, a reasonable estimate of around 80 OR and 2 officers can be made and this figure has been included.

8th Buffs Total numbers involved in raids: Officers: 8 OR: 395 Killed/died of wounds Officers OR

1 6

Wounded

Prisoner

0 17

0 0

Total 1 23 24

Total casualties expressed as a percentage of numbers involved: Officers: 12.5 per cent OR: 5.8 per cent Total: 5.9 per cent ¹ Figures compiled from Soldiers and Officers Died CD-Rom; Moody, Historical Records, and WO 95/1608 1st battalion WD ² Figures compiled from Soldiers and Officers Died CD-Rom; Moody, Historical Records; WO 95/1860 6th battalion WD; WO95/1857 37 IB WD; Scott and Brumwell, 12th Division

APPENDIX 3A BUFFS ACTIONS, 1914–15 Date

Battalion

Location

21 September 1914 17 October

1 1

18 October

1

Vailly, Aisne Bois Grenier–Chapelle d’Armentières Radinghem

20 October

1

22–4 October

1

9 August 1915 26 September 13 October

1 8 6

Enemy attacks along entire 6 Division front Enemy attacks along 6 Division front Attack at Hooge Vendin-le-Vieil, Loos Gun Trench, Loos

Phase of Battle Battle of the Aisne, 13–26 Sept. Battle of Messines, 12 Oct.–2 Nov. Battle of Armentières, 13 Oct.–4 Nov. Battle of Armentières, 13 Oct.–4 Nov. Battle of Armentières, 13 Oct.–4 Nov. Action of Hooge Battle of Loos, 25 Sept.–13 Oct. Battle of Loos, 25 Sept.–13 Oct.

APPENDIX 3B BUFFS ON THE SOMME, 1916 Date

Battalion

Location

1 July 3 July 13–14 July 3 August

7 6 7 6

Montauban Ovillers Trones Wood Ration Trench, Pozières/Thiepval ZZ Trench, Waterlot Farm

18 August

8

3 September

8

Tea Trench/Wood Lane High Wood–Delville Wood

15 September

1

Quadrilateral, Ginchy

25 September

1

Lesboeufs

1 October

7

Schwaben Redoubt

7 October

6

18 November

7

Rainbow Trench, Gueudecourt Desiré Trench, Grandcourt

Phase of Battle Battle of Albert, 1–13 July (i)¹ Battle of Albert, 1–13 July (i) Battle of Bazentin, 14–17 July (ii) Battle of Pozieres, 23 July–3 Sept. (iv) Battle of Delville Wood 15 July–3 Sept. (iii) Battle of Guillemont, 3–6 Sept. (v) Battle of Ginchy, 9 Sept. (vi) Battle of Flers-Courcelette, 15–22 Sept. (vii) Battle of Morval, 25–8 Sept. (viii) Battle of Thiepval, 26–8 Sept. (ix) Battle of the Ancre Heights, 1 Oct.–11 Nov. (xi) Battle of Le Transloy, 1–18 Oct. (x) Battle of the Ancre, 13–18 Nov. (xii)

¹ Roman numerals denote the battle number given by the official British battles nomenclature committee. In this table the Buffs’ appearances in battles have been given precedence over the official dating phases.

APPENDIX 3C BUFFS ACTIONS, 1917 Date

Battalion

Location

24 February

7

Petit Miraumont

25 February

7

9 April

6

13 April

1

14 April

8

16 April

1

17 April

8

3 May

6

3 May 7 June 14 June

7 8 8

Pys, Irles, Miraumont occupied Blue Line, Houlette Work, Feuchy Loos Crassier Germans withdrawing Attacks near Rollencourt, Lievin Continued fighting around Crassier Attacks near Rollencourt, Lievin Devil’s Trench, Keeling Copses, Monchy Chérisy Advance to Damstrasse Spoilbank

10 August

7

12 October

7

20 November 20 November 30 November

1 6 6

1 December

1

2–5 December

1

Lower Star Post, Inverness Copse Poelcapelle Blue Line, Couillet Wood Lateau Wood Counter-attack Pam-Pam Farm and Cable Trench German counter-attack Gonnelieu–La Vacquerie Canal Line, Marcoing

Phase of Battle Withdrawal to Hindenburg Line, Feb.–March Withdrawal to Hindenburg Line, Feb.–March First Battle of the Scarpe, 9–14 April Battle of Vimy Ridge, 9–14 April Battle of Vimy Ridge, 9–14 April

Third Battle of the Scarpe, 3–4 May Third Battle of the Scarpe, 3–4 May Battle of Messines, 7–14 June Battle of Messines, 7–14 June Battle of Pilckem Ridge, 31 July–2 Aug. Part of attempt to take Pilckem objectives First Battle of Passchendaele, 12 Oct. Second Battle of Passchendaele, 26 Oct.–10 Nov. Battle of Cambrai, 20–7 Nov. Battle of Cambrai, 20–7 Nov. German Counter-Stroke, 30 Nov.–6 Dec. German Counter-Stroke, 30 Nov.–6 Dec. German Counter-Stroke, 30 Nov.–6 Dec.

APPENDIX 3D BUFFS IN THE ‘100 DAYS’, 1918 Date

Battalion

Place

9 August 22–3 August 22 August 26 August

6 7 6 7

Morlancourt Albert Méaulte Montauban

27 August

6

Maurepas

1 September

7

Sailly-Saillisel

7 September

6

Guyencourt

18 September 18 September 18 September 19–20 September

6 7 1 7

Épehy Ronssoy and Lempire Quadrilateral, Holnon X, Y Copses, Lempire

21–2 September

6

Bird Trench, Épehy

29–30 September

6

Vendhuile

29–30 September

7

Vendhuile

6–9 October 8–9 October 17 October 20–4 October

6 1 1 6

Molly Villers Méricourt–Bohain Vaux-Andigny Advance to the Schelde

23 October 4–5 November

7 7

Bousies Mormal–Sassegnies

Phase of Battle Battle of Amiens, 8–11 Aug. Fourth Army Operations, 21–3 Aug. Fourth Army Operations, 21–3 Aug. Amiens Outer Defence Line, 24–9 Aug. Amiens Outer Defence Line, 24–9 Aug. Advance to the Hindenburg Line, 30 Aug.–17 Sept. Advance to the Hindenburg Line, 30 Aug.–17 Sept. Battle of Épehy, 18 Sept. Battle of Épehy, 18 Sept. Battle of Épehy, 18 Sept. Advance to Main Hindenburg Positions, 19–24 Sept. Advance to Main Hindenburg Positions, 19–24 Sept. Assault on the Main Hindenburg Position, 29 Sept. Assault on the Main Hindenburg Position, 29 Sept. Advance to the Selle, 9 Oct. Battle of Cambrai, 8 Oct. Battle of the Selle, 17–20 Oct. Advance to Valenciennes, 24–9 Oct. Last phase of the Selle, 20–4 Oct. Battle of the Sambre, 4 Nov.

Bibliography PRIMARY SOURCES William Cory & Son Ltd., London: Roll of Honour, December 1917 Imperial War Museum, London: IWM Department of Documents. 99/56/1 Diary of Private C. R. Smith, 7th Buffs IWM Department of Documents. 129 Con Shelf Robert Cude’s Diary IWM Department of Documents. Memoir of Lance Corporal Horace Reid, 8th Buffs IWM Department of Documents. Diary of Second Lieutenant W. R. Taylor, 6th Buffs National Archives, Kew: WO 71/448 Court Martial record Private R. Gawler WO 71/449 Court Martial record Private A. Eveleigh WO 71/609 Court Martial record Private F. C. Gore WO 71/664 Court Martial record Private F. C. Butcher WO 71/7547 Court Martial record Private W. L. Thompson WO 73/97 General Monthly Return of the Regimental Strength of the British Army WO 95/911 XIV Corps war diary WO 95/1580–WO 95/1595 6 Division war diary WO 95/1601 16 Company and 192 Company Machine Gun Corps war diary WO 95/1605–WO 95/1607 16 IB war diary WO95/1608 1st Buffs war diary WO 95/1611 16 IB Machine Gun Corps war diary WO 95/1822–WO 95/1834 12 Division war diary WO 95/1857–WO 95/1859 37 IB war diary WO 95/1860 6th Buffs war diary WO 95/2015–WO 95/2022 18 Division war diary WO 95/2046–WO 95/2048 55 IB war diary WO 95/2049 7th Buffs war diary WO 95/2189–WO 95/2195 24 Division war diary WO 95/2204–WO95/2205 17 IB war diary WO 95/2207 8th Buffs war diary WO 374/21808 W. A. Eaton File National Army Museum, Chelsea, Buffs Regimental Collection: NAM 2000-10-215-1 Major Lord Teynham’s orders for raid at Brasserie, 1 Aug. 1918 NAM 2000-10-248 9 Platoon Roll Book, 7th Buffs, 28 Nov. 1916 NAM 2000-10-247-1 9 Platoon Roll Book, 7th Buffs, no date but very probably Feb. 1917 NAM 2001-02-389-1 Diary of Corporal Charles Brain NAM 2001-02-895-1(-16) Captain Moss’s personal papers NAM 2001-07-339 Lieutenant-Colonel W. A. Eaton letter to Mr Hamilton Greig, 25 Oct. 1915

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NAM 2001-07-424 Papers relating to Sergeant H. Wire, 7th Buffs NAM 2001-07-520-1 Papers relating to Private Henry Martin, 6th Buffs NAM 2001-07-525 Papers relating to Lieutenant L. A. Lea Smith, 6th Buffs NAM 2001-07-610 Papers relating to Private George Crawley, 1st Buffs NAM 2001-07-625 Papers relating to Corporal William Cotter, 6th Buffs NAM 2001-07-1140 Papers relating to Lance-Corporal F. Weller, 2nd Buffs NAM 2001-10-68 Papers relating to Lance-Corporal F. E. Johns, 1st Buffs NAM 2001-10-94 Papers relating to Major A. C. L. Nicholson NAM 2000-10-214-1 Lieutenant-Colonel R. E. Power’s orders for 8 Oct. 1918 NAM 2001-11-23 Papers relating to Private Harry Green, 1st Buffs NAM 2001-11-62 Papers relating to Second Lieutenant A. F. Worster NAM 2002-02-913 Lieutenant Eric Foster Hall MC, Diary NAM 7904-71 Diary of Sergeant A. G. Beer, 3rd Buffs Letters of Second Lieutenant M. A. Asprey, 3rd Buffs Army List (London: HMSO) 1905–39 Princess of Wales Royal Regiment Headquarters, Howe Barracks, Canterbury: The Dragon, 1904–39 Brigadier-General R. A. McDouall, To the Subalterns of the Buffs (privately printed memoir, 1926) Royal Free Museum, Canterbury: East Kent Gazette and Canterbury Press, 1912–39 PRIMARY PUBLISHED MATERIAL The Diary of Wilfrid Saxby Barham Captain, ‘The Buffs’, during the Great War 1914–1915 Fermoy–Dover–Armentières–Ypres (London: printed for private circulation by R. E. Thomas & Co., 1918) Boraston, J. H., Sir Douglas Haig’s Despatches (London: Dent, 1919) Marden, Major-General T. O., A Short History of the Sixth Division, August 1914–March 1919 (London: Hugh Rees, 1920) Moody, R. S. H., Historical Records of the Buffs, East Kent Regiment 1914–1918 (London: Medici Society, 1922) Nichols (Quex), G. H. F, The 18th Division in the Great War (Edinburgh and London: William Blackwood & Sons, 1922) Scott (ed.), Major-General Sir Arthur B., P. Brumwell, Middleton, (compiler), The History of the 12th (Eastern) Division in the Great War, 1914–1918 (London: Nisbit & Co. Ltd., 1923) Official History volumes: Edmonds, J. E., Military Operations France and Belgium, 1914, Vol. 2 (London: Macmillan, 1925) —— Wynne, C., Military Operations France and Belgium, 1915, Vol. 1 (London: Macmillan, 1927) —— Military Operations France and Belgium, 1915, Vol. 2 (London: Macmillan, 1928) —— Military Operations France and Belgium, 1916, Vol. 1 (London: Macmillan, 1932) —— Military Operations France and Belgium, 1918, Vol. 1 (London: Macmillan, 1935) —— Military Operations France and Belgium, 1918, Vol. 2 (London: Macmillan, 1937)

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Miles, W., Military Operations France and Belgium, 1916, Vol. 2 (London: Macmillan, 1938) Edmonds, J. E., Military Operations France and Belgium, 1918, Vol. 3 (London: Macmillan, 1939) Falls, C., Military Operations France and Belgium, 1917, Vol. 1 (London: HMSO, 1940) Edmonds, J. E., Military Operations France and Belgium, 1918, Vol. 4 (London: HMSO, 1947) —— Military Operations France and Belgium, 1918, Vol. 5 (London: HMSO, 1947) —— Military Operations France and Belgium, 1917, Vol. 2 (London: HMSO, 1948) Miles, W., Military Operations France and Belgium, 1917, Vol. 3 (London: HMSO, 1948) SECONDARY PUBLISHED MATERIAL Ashworth, Tony, Trench Warfare 1914–1918: The Live and Let Live System (Basingstoke: Macmillan, 1980) Baynes, John, Far From a Donkey: The Life of General Sir Ivor Maxse (London: Brasseys, 1995) Beckett, Ian F. W., Ypres: The First Battle, 1914 (Harlow: Longman/Pearson, 2004) —— and Simpson, Keith, (eds.), A Nation in Arms: A Social Study of the British Army in the First World War (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1985) Bidwell, Shelford, and Graham, Dominick, Fire-Power: British Army Weapons and Theories of War, 1904–1945 (London: George Allen & Unwin, 1982) British Commission for Military History, ‘Look to Your Front’, Studies in the First World War (Staplehurst: Spellmount, 1999) Brown, Malcolm, and Seaton, Shirley, Christmas Truce: The Western Front December 1914 (London: Leo Cooper, 1984) Chandler, David, and Beckett, Ian, (eds.), The Oxford History of the British Army (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1994) Corns, Cathryn, and Hughes-Wilson, John, Blindfold and Alone: British Military Executions in the Great War (London: Cassel & Co, 2001) Dennis, Peter, and Grey, Jeffrey, Defining Victory, 1918 (Canberra: Army History Unit, Department of Defence, 1999) Farrar Hockley, Anthony, Death of an Army (London: Barker, 1967) French, David, British Strategy and War Aims 1914–1916 (London: Allen & Unwin, 1986) Grieves, Keith, The Politics of Manpower, 1914–1918 (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1988) Griffith, Paddy, Battle Tactics of the Western Front: The British Army’s Art of Attack, 1916–1918 (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1994). —— (ed.), British Fighting Methods in the Great War (London: Frank Cass, 1996) Gudmundsson, Bruce I., Stormtroop Tactics: Innovation in the German Army 1914–1918 (New York: Praeger, 1989) Harris, J. P., and Barr, Niall, Amiens to the Armistice: The BEF in the Hundred Days’ Campaign, 8 August–11 November 1918 (London: Brasseys, 1998) Hart, Peter, The IRA and its Enemies: Violence and Community in Cork, 1916–1923 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998) Herwig, Holger H., The First World War: Germany and Austria-Hungary, 1914–1918 (London: Arnold, 1997) Holderness, B. A., and Turner, M., (eds.), Land, Labour and Agriculture, 1700–1920 (London: Hambledon, 1991)

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Liddell Hart, B. H., A History of the First World War (London: Cassell, 1970) Liddle, Peter H., (ed.), Passchendaele in Perspective: The Third Battle of Ypres (London and Barnsley: Leo Cooper, 1997) Lupfer, T. T., The Dynamics of Doctrine: The Changes in German Tactical Doctrine during the First World War (Fort Leavenworth, Kan.: US Army Command and General Staff College, 1981) Mander, Raymond, and Mitchenson, Joe, Noël Coward, Plays: Four (London: Eyre Methuen, 1979) Middlebrook, Martin, The Kaiser’s Battle, 21 March 1918: The First Day of the German Spring Offensive (London: Penguin, Allen Lane, 1978) —— Your Country Needs You: The Expansion of the British Army Infantry Divisions 1914–1918 (Barnsley: Leo Cooper, 2000) Millman, Brock, Pessimism and British War Policy, 1916–1918 (London: Frank Cass, 2001) Moody, Simon, and Wakefield, Alan, Under the Devil’s Eye: Britain’s Forgotten Army in Salonika, 1915–1918 (Thrupp, Gloucestershire: Sutton, 2004) Moran, Lord, The Anatomy of Courage (London: Constable, 1945) Oram, Gerald, Death Sentences Passed by Military Courts of the British Army, 1914–1924 (London: Francis Boutle, 1998) Passingham, Ian, Pillars of Fire: The Battle of Messines Ridge, June 1917 (Thrupp, Gloucestershire: Sutton, 1998) Philpott, William, Anglo-French Relations and Strategy on the Western Front, 1914–1918 (Basingstoke: Macmillan, 1996) Prior, Robin, and Wilson, Trevor, Command on the Western Front (Oxford: Blackwell, 1992) —— —— Passchendaele, the Untold Story (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1996) —— —— Somme (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 2005) Samuels, Martin, Command or Control? Command, Training and Tactics in the British Armies, 1888–1918 (London: Frank Cass, 1995) Sheffield,G. D., Leadership in the Trenches: Officer–Man Relations, Morale and Discipline in the British Army in the Era of the First World War (Basingstoke: Macmillan, 2000) —— Forgotten Victory: The First World War Myths and Realities (London: Headline, 2001) —— The Somme (London: Cassell, 2003) —— and Todman, Dan (eds.), Command and Control on the Western Front: The British Army’s Experience 1914–18 (Staplehurst: Spellmount, 2004) Simkins, Peter, Kitchener’s Army: The Raising of the New Armies, 1914–1916 (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1988) Simpson, Keith, The Old Contemptibles, A Photographic History of the British Expeditionary Force, August–December 1914 (London: George Allen and Unwin, 1981) Steel, Nigel, and Hart, Peter, Passchendaele, the Sacrificial Ground (London: Cassell, 2000) Terraine, John, Mons: Retreat to Victory (London: Batsford, 1960) —— Douglas Haig, the Educated Soldier (London: Hutchinson, 1963) —— The First World War, 1914–1918 (London: Macmillan, 1965 and 1983 [Hutchinson] editions) Travers, Tim, The Killing Ground: The British Army, the Western Front and the Emergence of Modern Warfare (London: Unwin, Hyman, 1987) —— How the War was Won: Command and Technology in the British Army on the Western Front, 1917–1918 (London: Routledge, 1992)

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Winter, Denis, Death’s Men: Soldiers of the Great War (London: Penguin Allen Lane, 1978) Yates, Nigel (ed.), Kent in the Twentieth Century (Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2001) CHAPTERS, JOURNAL ARTICLES, AND THESES Armstrong, Alan, ‘Kentish Rural Society during the First World War’ in Holderness and Turner (eds.), Land, Labour and Agriculture, 1700–1920, 109–31 Bailey, Jonathan, ‘British Artillery in the Great War’, in Griffith (ed.), British Fighting Methods, 23–49 Beckett, Ian, ‘The Nation in Arms, 1914–18’ in Beckett and Simpson (eds.), A Nation in Arms, 1–36 —— ‘The Territorial Force’ in Beckett and Simpson (eds.), A Nation in Arms, 127–64 Booth, Alan, ‘The Economy of Kent: An Overview’, in Yates (ed.), Kent in the Twentieth Century, 27–58 Connelly, Mark, ‘The British Campaign in Aden, 1914–1918’, University of Birmingham, Centre for First World War Studies, Journal of First World War Studies, Vol. 1, No. 3, 2005, http://www.js-ww1.bham.ac.uk/index.asp Donaldson, Peter, ‘The Commemoration of the Great War in East Kent, 1919–1924’, unpublished Ph.D. thesis, University of Kent, 2005 Fraser, Peter, ‘The British “Shells Scandal” of 1915’, Canadian Journal of History, xviii1 (1983), 69–86 Greenhalgh, Elizabeth, ‘Why the British Were on the Somme in 1916’, War in History, 6 (1999), 147–73 —— ‘Flames over the Somme: A Retort to William Philpott’, War in History, 10 (2003), 335–342 Griffith, Paddy, ‘The Tactical Problem: Infantry, Artillery and the Salient’, in Liddle (ed.), Passchendaele in Perspective, 61–72 Jeffery, Keith ‘The Post-war Army’ in Beckett and Simpson (eds.), A Nation in Arms, 212–34 Lee, John, ‘Some Lessons of the Somme: The British Infantry in 1917’, in ‘Look to Your Front’, 79–88 —— ‘The British Divisions at Third Ypres’, in Liddle (ed.), Passchendaele in Perspective, 215–26 Lloyd, Nicholas, ‘The British Expeditionary Force and the Battle of Loos’, unpublished Ph.D. thesis, Birmingham, 2005 McCarthy, Chris, ‘Queen of the Battlefield: The Development of Command Organisation and Tactics in the British Infantry Battalion during the Great War’, in Sheffield and Todman (eds.), Command and Control, 173–94 Mealyer, Peter, and Hague, Colin (eds.), ‘Jimmy Carpenter’s War Diary’, Stand To! The Journal of the Western Front Association, 72 (Jan. 2005), 15–18 Philpott, William, ‘Why the British Were Really on the Somme: A Reply to Elizabeth Greenhalgh’, War in History, 9 (2002), 446–71 Rawcliffe, Michael, ‘Population’, in Yates (ed.), Kent in the Twentieth Century, 1–26 Roberts, James, ‘Making the Butterflies Kill’, Stand To! The Journal of the Western Front Association, 68 (Sept. 2003), 38–44 Sheffield, Gary, ‘An Army Commander on the Somme: Hubert Gough’ in Sheffield and Todman (eds.), Command and Control, 71–98

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Simkins, Peter, ‘Co-Stars or Supporting Cast? British Divisions in “The Hundred Days”, 1918’, in Griffith (ed.), British Fighting Methods, 50–69 —— ‘ “Building Blocks”: Aspects of Command and Control at Brigade Level in the BEF’s operations, 1916–1918’, in Sheffield and Todman (eds.), Command and Control, 141–72 Spiers, Edward, ‘The Late Victorian Army 1868–1914’ in Chandler and Beckett (eds.), The Oxford History of the British Army, 187–210 —— ‘The Regular Army’, in Beckett and Simpson, A Nation in Arms, 47 Todman, Dan, ‘The Grand Lamasery Revisited: General Headquarters on the Western Front 1914–1918’ in Sheffield and Todman (eds.), Command and Control, 39–70 Turner, John, ‘Lloyd George, the War Cabinet, and High Politics’, in Liddle (ed.), Passchendaele in Perspective, 14–30 Vandiver, Frank E., ‘Field Marshal Sir Douglas Haig and the Generals’, in Liddle (ed.), Passchendaele in Perspective, 30–44 Whitmarsh, Andrew, ‘The Development of Infantry Tactics in the British 12th (Eastern) Division, 1915–1918’, Stand To! The Journal of the Western Front Association, 48 (Jan. 1997), 28–32 ELECTRONIC/DIGITAL SOURCES Commonwealth War Graves Commission, Commemoration Places of East Kent Regiment Soldiers, 1914–1918, CD-Rom www.digiserve.com/peter/buffs/stbuffs.htm (accessed 22 June 2005) Imperial War Museum Trench Map Archive (Sussex: CD-Rom, Army and Navy Press, 2000) Official History of the Great War: Military Operations France and Belgium, 1914–1918. Maps (Sussex: CD-Rom, Army and Navy Press, 1997) Soldiers and Officers Died in the Great War (Sussex: CD-Rom, Army and Navy Press, 1998) Soldiers and Officers Died in the Second World War (Sussex: CD-Rom, Army and Navy Press, 2000)

Buffs Index Battles: 1st battalion 1914 Aisne: 47–8 Radinghem chateau/Armentières: 49–50 1915 Hooge: 62–4 1916 Quadrilateral: 110–14 Lesboeufs: 114–16 1917 Cambrai: 151–7 1918 German spring offensive: 168–73 Quadrilateral: 194–6 Bohain-Vaux Andigny: 202–5 6th battalion 1915 Loos: 69–72 1916 Ovillers: 102–3 Ration Trench: 104–6 Le Transloy: 120–1 1917 Cambrai: 151–7 1918 Amiens: 187–93 Épehy: 194–201 Advance to Schelde: 205 7th battalion 1916 Montauban: 99–101 Schwaben Redoubt: 118–20 Desiré Trench: 121–3 1917 Poelcapelle: 149–51 1918 Amiens: 187–93 Épehy: 194–201 Advance from Selle to Sambre: 202–7 8th battalion 1915 Loos: 66–9 1916 ZZ Trench: 106–7 Worcester Trench: 107–8 1917 Spoilbank: 141–3 Lower Star Post: 145

British League of Help (adoption of Lesboeufs and Morval): 223 Casualties: 64, 101, 105, 109, 113, 124–5, 145, 207–8, 234–9 1st battalion (1914): 51–2 (1915): 64 (1916): 112, 116 (1917): 154, 156 (1918): 172, 196, 203 6th battalion (1915): 69 (1916): 103, 105, 120–1 (1917): 135, 140, 155–6 (1918): 177, 187, 189, 193 7th battalion (1916): 101, 119, 122 (1917): 140, 149 (1918): 177, 180, 193 8th battalion (1915): 68 (1916): 107–8 (1917): 143–5 Christmas Truce, 1914: 50–1 Commanding Officers: 16, 19, 20, 22 T. G. Cope: 19, 31–2, 71, 103–4, 120–1, 133, 138–40, 216, 230–1 H. M. C. Curtis: 19, 22, 192, 199, 206–7 W. A. Eaton: 9, 12–13, 19, 22, 70 W. F. Elmslie: 16, 70 E. H. Finch Hatton: 19, 47 H. W. Green: 19, 86, 112, 114–15, 133, 230, 231 J. Hasler: 47, 49, 52–3 H. C. de la M Hill: 22, 44, 46–7, 52 L. W. Lucas: 19, 20, 23, 70, 133 R. McDouall: 8, 49, 52–3, 224–6 R. E. Power: 20, 156, 168, 202 H. R. H. Pratt: 19, 70–1, 96 A. L. Ransome: 16, 19, 22, 26, 34, 96, 99, 101, 118, 124, 133–4, 136, 140, 148–9, 176–7, 179, 186, 192, 208, 231 F. C. Romer: 13, 16, 19, 22, 25, 67 A. S. Smeltzer: 19, 21–2, 71, 82, 133, 156, 178, 187, 193–4, 199, 200 F. C. R. Studd: 20, 47, 133, 143 A. J. H. Trueman: 8, 19, 70 Commemorative practices: 215–23 Letters of condolence: 22–4, 215–16

264

Buffs Index

Composition of battalions/drafts: 7, 11–19, 21–4, 28–9, 40, 52, 70, 99, 111, 114, 118, 132–3, 164, 184, 205, 224 Discipline and morale: 29–34, 71, 173 Family traditions and the Buffs (see also ‘Personalities’): 8–9, 21 Kent Cory and Sons Ltd: 12, 16 Population of and relationship with Buffs: 10–12, 213–15 Recruitment in: 10–11 Kentish Gazette and Canterbury Press: 10–11, 214, 222 NCOs (promotion and retention of ): 20–1 Officers Attitudes towards Other Ranks: 24–5 Relations between officers: 22–4 Retention of own officers: 7–9, 19–20, 133–4, 156 Replacement of officers: 71–3 Old Comrades Association: 220–3 Other Ranks: Attitudes towards war: 27–8 Attitudes towards officers: 25–7

Personalities: Lieutenant W. S. Barham (diary): 15, 21–5, 50–1 Private Charles Brain (diary): 27, 196, 203 Private R. Cude (diary): 11–14, 27–8 Private J. Carpenter (diary): 13–15, 18 Captain W. Corrall: 20, 22, 23, 59, 116, 124, 224, 233 Corporal W. Cotter V.C.: 21, 32–3, 231–2 Second Lieutenant E. Foster Hall (diary): 17, 23, 84, 87, 89, 143, 163, 171, 173, 224, 233 Captain T. H. Kesby: 21, 59, 124 R. S. H. Moody: 1, 50, 70, 204, 220, 239 Lance-Corporal H. Reid (diary): 12, 14–15, 26, 67 Private C. R. Smith (diary): 11, 13–14, 25–7, 118–19 Pre-war spirit of regiment: 8–9 Regimental magazine (Dragon/War Dragon): 8–9, 44–6, 214, 218, 220 War history: 220 (see also R. S. H. Moody) War memorials: 217–22 Women and the Buffs: 214, 219–20

General Index Aircraft (see ‘Weapons’) Artillery (see ‘Tactics’) Australian forces: 177, 183, 200–1 Battles Aisne (1914): 47 Armentières (1914): 23, 48, 50 Arras (1917): 134–40 Cambrai (1917): 151–7 Hooge (1915): 60–5 Loos (1915): 58, 59, 60, 65, 66–70, 81 Messines (1917): 141–4 Somme (1916): 69, 93–129 Ypres (Third Battle of, 1917): 144–51 ‘The 100 Days’ (1918): 188–209 Amiens: 187–93 Advance to the Hindenburg Line: 193–4 Hindenburg Line and Èpehy: 194–201 Advance to the Selle: 201–3 Advance to the Sambre: 203–8 British Army (see also ‘British Strategy’, ‘Command and Control’, ‘Devolved Command’; ‘High Command’, ‘Junior Leadership’, ‘Platoon reorganisation’; ‘Tactics’, ‘Training’, ‘Weapons’) British Expeditionary Force ‘bite and hold’ concept: 87, 106, 113, 143, 147, 155 Defence policy (1918): 163–6, 170, 13, 178–9 ‘learning curve’ thesis: 1–3, 72–3, 124–5, 136–7, 157, 188, 208–9 Manpower situation (1918): 163–4, 184 Morale: 165 Raiding policy: 77–9 Social complexion: 1–2 Armies Third: 168, 151, 134, 156, 188, 189, 201, 206 Fourth: 109, 186, 188, 190, 201, 206 Fifth: 119, 122 Corps III: 28, 47, 48, 103, 109, 175, 186, 187, 188, 194, 199 IX: 194, 202–4 XVIII: 30, 106, 111, 114, 116 Divisions 6: 4, 30, 32, 79, 80, 86 (1914): 40, 46, 47 (1915): 59, 60, 64

(1916): 96, 111, 114, 116 (1917): 152–3, 154 (1918): 166, 168, 172, 194, 196, 201, 203 12: 4, 79, 80, 81, 88 (1915): 58, 69 (1916): 96, 98, 103, 104, 106, 109, 120 (1917): 134, 136, 137, 153, 155 (1918): 177, 184, 186, 187, 191, 192, 196, 197, 199, 201, 205 18: 4, 81 (1915): 58, 69 (1916): 96, 99, 103, 109, 118, 121 (1917): 137, 145, 146 (1918): 167, 168, 185, 186, 188, 191, 192, 193, 196, 197, 199, 200, 201, 206, 207 24: 4, 79, 81 (1915): 58 (1916): 96, 106 (1917): 145 46: 60, 201, 203 47: 143, 177, 189, 190, 198 58: 174, 186, 188 Brigades 16: 4, 79 (1914): 46, 47, 49, 50, 51, 53 (1915): 60, 64 (1916): 111 (1917): 132 (1918): 166, 170, 195 17: 4, 81, 85 (1916): 106 (1917): 141 18: 48, 49, 60, 63, 79, 111, 172 35: 80, 85, 88, 103, 188, 189 37: 4, 80, 88 (1916): 96, 103 (1917): 136, 155 (1918): 167, 177, 185, 193, 197, 199, 200, 201, 208 53: 177, 184, 199, 207 54: 177, 199, 201, 206, 207 55: 4 (1916): 97, 122 (1917): 146 (1918): 175, 191, 193, 197, 200, 206 Regiments/battalions/corps Bedfordshire Regiment: 79, 86, 112, 119

266

General Index

British Army (cont.) East Kent Regiment (see ‘Buffs’) East Surrey Regiment: 66, 67, 69, 80, 85, 86, 88, 122, 137, 177, 190, 191, 193, 197, 206 Essex Regiment: 20, 67, 79, 204 King’s Shropshire Light Infantry: 47, 50, 61, 63, 78, 79, 115, 168, 169, 170, 171, 172, 195, 196, 202, 203 Queen’s (Royal West Surrey Regiment): 67, 88, 101, 103, 134, 137, 175, 177, 189, 199, 207 Rifle Brigade: 62, 63, 105, 106 Royal Engineers: 41, 86, 106 Royal Fusiliers: 47, 81, 85, 86, 90, 190, 197 Royal Sussex Regiment: 11, 81, 105 Royal West Kent Regiment: 58, 66, 67, 68, 69, 80, 89, 103, 122, 164, 187, 189, 197 York and Lancaster Regiment: 49, 50, 53, 62, 79, 115, 116, 168, 172, 195 Preparations for war: 40–4, 53–4 British Official History: 68, 78 J. E. Edmonds: 43, 72, 164, 166, 175, 208 C. Falls: 133, 139 W. Miles: 112, 120, 124 British strategy: 1915: 69, 72–3 1916: 93–4, 108–11 1917: 130–1 1918: 162–3, 183–4, 189, 201 Cator, Brig-Gen A. B. E.: 31, 80, 88, 121, 136 Cavalry (see ‘Weapons’) Cavan, Lt-Gen: 30, 112, 114, 116, 146 Command and Control: 47, 49, 62, 101, 104, 112, 115, 120, 140, 149, 155, 172–3, 175, 188, 199, 201, 207, 230, 232 Commemorative practices (see ‘Buffs’ index) Devolved Command: 188, 209, 232 French, Sir J, C-in-C BEF, 1914–1915: 46, 57, 65, 66, 68, 69, 77 German forces Alpine Corps: 194 27 Württemburg Division: 186 Tactics: 54, 111, 146–7, 151, 156, 162, 166, 170, 171, 174, 179 Defensive positions: Amiens Outer Defence Line: 188 Hermann Position I: 203 Hindenburg Line: 151, 189, 194, 200–1 Retreat to: 136–7 Somme First Position: 94

Somme Second Position: 109, 110, 111, 113, 120 Winter Position (1918): 189 Ypres: 144–6 Gough, Lt-Gen Sir H: 104, 109, 119, 122, 138, 143, 144, 145, 157, 175 Grenades (see ‘Weapons’) Haig, Sir D, C-in-C BEF, 1916–1918: 1, 42, 65, 71, 78, 81, 82, 93, 108–11, 113, 120, 130, 137, 138, 141, 143, 144, 151, 157, 162, 163, 183, 187, 188, 189, 194, 202, 206, 231 High Command (influence of ): 46–7, 50, 65, 69, 77–8, 109–10, 122, 124–5, 143–5, 147, 156, 166, 183, 194, 200 Junior leadership: 49, 59, 71, 82–4, 101, 103, 115–16, 122, 124, 143, 145, 155, 170–1, 187, 193, 196, 207, 232 Kent/East Kent (see ‘Buffs’ index) Logistics and supply: 65, 72, 93–5, 130–1, 143, 183 Lewis guns (see ‘Weapons’) Maxse, Lt-Gen Sir I: 15, 96–9, 118–19, 134, 165, 184, 231 Platoon reorganisation (1917–1918): 131–3, 184–5 Rawlinson, Lt-Gen Sir H: 65, 108–11, 113–14, 183, 186–8, 194, 196, 199, 200 Russo-Japanese War (1904–1905, influence of ): 40, 43 South African War (1899–1902, influence of ): 40–6 Steel helmets: 64, 72 Tactics Artillery: 41–2, 60, 62, 69, 103–10, 112, 114, 116, 119–22, 140, 136, 138, 151, 153, 157, 192, 194, 196–7, 199, 208–9, 229–30 Box barrage: 85–6 Creeping barrage: 107, 111, 112, 131, 138, 149, 187, 190, 200 Counter-battery: 69, 89, 106, 136, 138, 145, 149 Infantry: 40–6, 53–4, 64–5, 72–3, 84–7, 95–8, 101, 109–10, 114–15, 118, 123, 131, 136–7, 139, 141, 146–8,

General Index 174, 179, 183, 184–5, 206–8, 230–1 Open warfare: 157, 203, 206, 209, 230 Semi-open warfare: 124, 136, 139, 152, 157, 209, 230 Tanks (see ‘Weapons’) Technology: 3, 42–3, 54, 192, 209, 232–3 Training: 14–15, 40–6, 58, 69, 84–5, 95–7, 101, 104–5, 118–19, 131–4, 139, 140, 148, 152, 155, 168, 173, 183, 186, 193, 207, 225–6, 230–1 Training pamphlets SS143 Instructions for Training Platoons for Offensive Action (1917): 131, 134 SS135 Instructions for Training Divisions for Offensive Action (1917): 131, 134, 143 Miscellaneous Notes from Divisions from Recent Fighting (1916): 119 SS119 Preliminary Notes on the Tactical Lessons of the Recent Operations (1916): 131 Tactical Notes (‘Red Book’, 1916): 95, 97, 120 SS109 Training of Divisions for Offensive Action (1916): 95, 97, 131, 230

267

Weapons Aircraft: 60, 192, 194, 196, 203, 206 Armoured cars: 207 Automatic weapons: 42–3, 53, 192 Lewis guns: 65, 72, 94, 98, 112, 115, 116, 118–20, 123, 131–5, 140, 143, 145, 147–9, 152–3, 168–9, 172, 184–5, 202, 205, 207, 224, 232 Vickers machine gun: 15, 43, 49, 62, 64–5, 85–7, 94–5, 103, 112, 116, 123, 135, 170, 189, 204, 207, 232 Bayonet: 8, 41, 43, 45, 50, 43, 111, 224 Bombs/grenades/rifle-grenades: 15, 61, 69, 71–2, 77, 85, 101, 106, 115, 118–19, 123–4, 131–2, 135, 140, 148, 186, 232 Cavalry: 154, 192, 208 Rifles/marksmanship: 8, 14, 41–9, 53, 65, 72, 77, 119, 131–2, 140, 148–9, 152–3, 168–9, 173–4, 184–5, 192, 207, 224 Tanks: 112, 114, 151–2, 154–5, 169, 187–8, 192, 200, 206, 209, 232–3 Trench mortars: 59, 72, 86, 115–16, 131, 138, 170, 189, 232