Impressions of the British Front
cover pages from 'the War Illustrated'
When the heavy snowfalls of February had whitened the Western Front, hiding the rugged shell-furrows and shell-craters, and making all the land look peaceful and fair, the fighting men had to keep well within cover of their trenches, for the khaki uniforms of the British and the blue-grey uniforms of the Germans looked quite dark against the background of shining snow. Surprise attacks could no longer be made during daytime. Even at night, when there was no moon, sentries could detect any movement of men across No-Man's-Land.
It looked as if hand-to-hand fighting would have to cease until the thaw came. Then the Germans tried a ruse which they had already practised against the Russians on the Eastern Front. Parties of their men were clad in long white smocks and sent out to raid the British trenches under cover of darkness. But our gallant soldiers were not to be caught napping. One night the "listening posts" crept in to give the alarm that an attack was being prepared. Lying half-buried in snow, they had heard shouts of command and the clattering of weapons, as the excited Germans made ready to leave their trenches. One man had even caught glimpses of enemy officers in their white overalls. "It looks as if they are to play at ghosts to-night," whispered one of our men as he crept back to the supports.
Word was passed along the British lines to make ready and keep perfect silence. A long pause followed, everyone listening intently. Then suddenly the German artillery opened fire and began to pound our trenches with shell. Soon afterwards a barrage of shell was poured behind the first line to prevent reinforcements being brought up through the communication trenches.
Ere long the raiding parties of ghostly Germans came in sight. They had crept up fairly close to our trenches, and looked like groups of restless ghosts in the dim starlight. "Don't fire until you get the word," was the command passed along the British lines.
Nearer and nearer came the white-clad enemy. Apparently they thought their trick would prove quite successful. Then a fusillade of rifle and machine-gun fire burst forth from the British trenches, and the ghostly raiders were scattered like chaff before the wind. Some fell a few yards distant from the barbed wire, others were laid low half-way across No- Man's-Land. Those who were not caught in the sudden storm of bullets turned and fled in confusion. In the waste of snow their white smocks made it possible for them to escape the keenest-eyed snipers. The attack of the German ghosts was an utter failure. As our men put it: "They bungled the thing before it had right begun".
"I had been snoozing in my dug-out," an officer tells, "when I got the alarm. Our men seemed quite pleased at the prospect of a scrimmage with what they called 'the German bogies'. 'Here they are!' someone whispered as the raiders came on. I peered out, and all I could see was some dark things that looked like dogs; these were the heads, arms, and legs of the Germans; the white smocks having made the rest of their bodies invisible. I thought of the song: 'Hush! hush! here comes the bogie man!' as we waited them without firing a single round until the enemy came quite near. Then our men let them have it. So hot was our fire that the 'bogies' fled pell-mell, screaming and wailing. You could hear their cries even after they had vanished and our men had ceased to fire, seeing nothing to fire at. Instead of scaring us, the German 'bogies' were greatly scared themselves."
The British soldiers were anxious to beat the Germans at their own game, and it was not long before they had a chance of doing so. One famous night-attack across the white surface of No-Man's-Land was made by the Gordon Highlanders, who were clad in white overalls and had their steel helmets painted white. In high spirits the men got ready for the adventure. To hear their humorous chaff about playing at "ghosts" and "bogie men" one might have thought that they did not expect to run risks, and were only going out for a night's fun, like masqueraders at Hallowe'en in their homeland. Not a few of them had in their boyhood dressed up and smeared their faces with white powder or charcoal to play pranks in their native villages during the festive season, and the idea of having a little fun of a similar kind when attacking the Germans tickled them greatly.
The night chosen was suitable for the attempt. No-Man's-Land was covered with freshly- fallen snow, and although a bright moon raced through wisps of cloud and lit up the whole landscape, a thin low fog drifted over the ground like smoke from burning grass.
The word of command was passed along the line to advance stealthily and silently, taking advantage of the cover obtained in the rough, shell-pitted waste of No-Man's- Land.
"Go canny," the men whispered one to another; "don't smoke, don't speak, don't cough, don't sneeze even."
"How can I help sneezing if a sneeze comes on?" growled a big Kiltie.
"Stuff snow in your mouth and freeze the sneeze," another answered with a chuckle.
At length the order came to leave the trenches and advance. "Good-bye, bogie!" "Good- bye, Mr. Ghost!" whispered the khaki-clad men who were left behind, as the attackers ventured forth in what some of them called their "nightdresses".
Bayonets smeared with mud to prevent their flashing in the moonlight were fixed before leaving the trenches. The magazines were charged.
One by one the men went out, creeping over the snow. At a few yards' distance they were scarcely visible. Each time the moon went behind a bit of cloud, men rose up and scampered forward with bended backs. Some dropped into shell-holes; some threw themselves flat on the snow, and, when they had a chance to do so, they heaped snow in front of them and over their arms, for their overalls had no sleeves.
Forward they went in short rushes, while the German sentries listened intently and peered across No-Man's-Land, and their trained dogs sniffed and growled and began to grow restless.
Then suddenly the British artillery opened fire, and shells burst over and behind the German trenches. The bombardment was short and sharp, and was not confined to the points selected for attack by the "bogie" soldiers. It travelled far up and down the enemy's line, and gave no indication to the Germans as to the exact place where an attack was likely to burst upon them.
Taking advantage of the noise and confusion, the ghostly Gordons went forward speedily, the shell smoke helping to conceal them until they reached the enemy's advance posts, which were overcome at a rush. Two separate parties of attackers worked round a strong position, which was protected by underground chambers in which the Germans had concealed themselves from shell-fire. Hardly, however, had the last shell burst over these deep dug-outs than the enemy found that they were being cornered like rats in a trap. At each outlet stood groups of Gordons, who shouted in their broad dialect to the amazed Germans: "Come awa' wi' ye—d'ye hear? Come oot at once if ye dinna want to be bombed."
"Kamerad! Kamerad!" answered German after German as he threw up his hands and came out as a prisoner.
At one outlet the Germans prepared to show fight. Officers shouted on their men to open fire and charge, but a couple of bombs silenced them and caused part of the dug- out to fall in, preventing escape at that quarter. There were, however, other outlets connected with the elaborate system of underground chambers and passages. At one of these the Germans refused to take any notice of the offer made to them to yield. They evidently wanted the Gordons to come down and try to clear them out at the point of the bayonet. But the Gordons were taking no risks, and when they found the enemy preparing for an underground battle they opened fire with a few bombs. Suddenly the woodwork inside one deep passage took fire and blazed furiously. Ere long the flames leapt through the layers of logs that formed the roof. A huge flare sprang up and illuminated the German works.
"Here's a sudden thaw!" cried a Gordon as the snow melted rapidly and water poured into the empty trenches.
Groups of Germans who had escaped by concealed outlets opened fire on the attackers, and especially on those of them who were seen clearly in the flare of the dug- out roof. Bombs were also thrown. But the Gordons fought doggedly and gallantly, and after suffering a few casualties overcame all opposition.
One party of the "bogies" would not retreat until a dug-out which they had tried to clear was entered. Down went the men with a rush and carried all before them. One big German, loaded with bombs, came forward to meet them, but a well-directed bullet laid him low. Then his comrades surrendered. They were taken out speedily, and as they were being marched off a few bombs were scattered through the dug-out, causing it to collapse entirely.
It was a great night's work. All that the Gordons set out to do they accomplished in thorough fashion, and the men returned to their trenches in high spirits with a goodly batch of prisoners, bringing in also all their wounded and almost all their dead.
The humorous side of the adventure appealed to them greatly. "I tripped over my 'nightdress'", one man told, "just when I had held up three Germans. I was holding a bomb in my hand. Although I fell, I managed to keep the bomb from striking anything, and so saved myself. The Germans could have bayoneted me, but they were too scared to move. They thought that I and they would be blown up right away. I got up at once, and found them standing with arms up and grinning as if I had been giving them a display of gymnastics. It was a narrow squeak, I tell you."
"I got my two prisoners easily," another told. "They were mere boys, and came forward crying 'Please, please!'—all the English they knew. They can't have been long out of school."
"The sentry I collared", declared a third, "was scared out of his wits. I crawled out of a shell-hole and stood up in front of him. He dropped his rifle and gave a yell as if he thought I was a ghost.
'"Hullo, Kamerad!' says I. But he couldn't answer a word. He was dazed with fright."
"One of the schoolboys, I suppose," suggested a friend.
"Not at all; he's old enough to be my father. I never saw a man so scared in all my life."
Many attacks of this kind took place before the thaw set in and the Germans began to retreat towards the east.
