THE BRITISH ATTACK

The first day of July, 1916, dawned warm and cloudless. Since half past 5 o'clock every gun of the Allies on a front of twenty-five miles was firing without pause, producing a steady rumbling sound from which it was difficult to distinguish the short bark of the mortars, the crackle of the field guns, and the deep roar of the heavies. The slopes to the east were wreathed in smoke, while in the foreground lay Albert, where German shells fell from time to time, with its shattered church of Notre Dame de BebriÈres, from whose ruined campanile the famous gilt Virgin hung head downward. At intervals along the Allies' front, and for several miles to the rear, captive kite balloons, tugging at their moorings, gleamed brightly in the morning light.

The Allies' bombardment reached its greatest intensity about 7.15, when all the enemy slopes were hidden by waves of smoke like a heavy surf breaking on a rock-bound coast. Here and there spouts and columns of earth and dÉbris shot up in the sunlight. It seemed that every living thing must perish within the radius of that devastating hurricane of fire.

At 7.30 exactly there was a short lull in the bombardment—just long enough for the gunners everywhere to lengthen their range, and then the fire became a barrage. The staff officers, who had been studying their watches, now gave the order, and along the twenty-five mile front the Allies' infantry left the trenches and advanced to attack.

In this opening stage of the battle the British aim was the German first position. The section selected for attack ran from north to south, covering Gommecourt, passing east of Hebuterne and following the high ground before Serre and Beaumont-Hamel, crossed the Ancre northwest of Thiepval. From this point it stretched for about a mile and a quarter to the east of Albert. Passing south around Fricourt, it turned at right angles to the east, covering Mametz and Montauban. Midway between Maricourt and Hardecourt it turned south, covering Curlu, crossing the Somme at a marshy place near Vaux, and finally passed east of Frise, Dompierre, and Soyecourt, to leave east of Lihons the sector in which the Allied offensive was in progress which we are describing.

The disposition of the British forces on the front of attack was as follows: The right wing of Sir Edmund Allenby's Third Army and General Hunter-Weston's Eighth Corps lay opposite Gommecourt, and down to a point just south of Beaumont-Hamel. North of Ancre to Authuille was General Morland's Tenth Corps, and east of Albert General Pulteney's Third Corps, a division directed against La Boiselle, and another against Ovillers. Adjoining the French forces on the British right flank lay General Congreve's Thirteenth Corps.

The Allies' attack was not unexpected by the Germans, and they were not entirely wrong as to the area in which the blow would be delivered. From Arras to Albert they had concentrated large forces of men and many guns, but south of Albert they were less strongly prepared. Their weakest point was south of the Somme, where the Allies had all the advantage. In recording the history of the day's fighting two separate actions must be described, in the north and in the south. The Allies failed in the first of these, but in the second they gained a substantial victory over the German hosts. The most desperate struggle of the day was fought between Gommecourt and Thiepval.

Three of the British divisions in action here were from the New Army; one was a Territorial brigade and the two others had seen hard fighting in Flanders and Gallipoli. They confronted a series of strongly fortified villages—Gommecourt Serre, Beaumont-Hamel, and Thiepval—with underground caves that could shelter whole battalions. A network of underground passages led to sheltered places to the rear of the fighting line, and deep pits had been dug in which, in time of bombardment, the machine guns could be hidden. The Germans had also direct observation from the rear of these strongholds, where their guns were massed in large numbers.

Occupying such strong positions with every advantage in their favor, it is easy to understand why the British troops that attacked from Gommecourt to Thiepval failed to attain their objective. If the British bombardment had reached a high pitch of intensity on the morning of July 1, 1916, the German guns were no less active, and having the advantage of direct observation, their explosive shells soon obliterated parts of the British front trenches, compelling the British to form up in the open ground. A hot barrage fire of shrapnel accurately directed followed the British troops as they advanced over no-man's-land. Into a very hell of shrapnel, high explosives, rifle and machine-gun fire they pushed on in ordered lines. Soon the devastating storm of German artillery fire cut great gaps in their formation, yet not a man hung back or wavered. And this destructive German fire, accurate and relentless, the British soldiers faced unflinchingly from early dawn to high noon. Here and there the German position was penetrated by the more adventurous spirits, some detachments even forcing their way through it, but they could not hold their ground. The attack was checked everywhere, and by evening what was left of the British troops from Gommecourt to Thiepval struggled back to their old line.

The British had failed to win their objective, but the day had not been wholly wasted; they had struck deep into the heart of the German defense and inspired in the enemy a wholesome respect for their fighting powers. In this stubborn attack nearly every English, Scotch, and Irish regiment was represented—a Newfoundland battalion, a little company of Rhodesians, as well as London and Midland Territorials—all of whom displayed high courage. Again and again the German position was pierced. Part of one British division broke through south of Beaumont-Hamel and penetrated to the Station road on the other side of the quarry, a desperate adventure that cost many lives. It was at Beaumont-Hamel, under the Hawthorne Redoubt, that exactly at 7.30 a. m., the hour of attack, the British exploded a mine which they had been excavating for seven months. It was the work of Lancashire miners, the largest mine constructed thus far in the campaign. It was a success. Half the village and acres of land sprang into the air, blotting out for a time the light of the sun on the scene and hiding in a pall of dust and smoke the rapidly advancing British troops.

In the day's fighting the Irish soldiers were especially distinguished for many remarkable acts of bravery. The Royal Irish Fusiliers were the first to leave the trenches. To the north of Thiepval the Ulster Division broke through the German position at a point called "The Crucifix," holding for a time the formidable Schwaben Redoubt, and some even penetrated the outskirts of Grandcourt. The Royal Irish Rifles swept over the German parapet, and, assisted by the Inniskillings, cleared the trenches and destroyed the machine gunners. Through the enemy lines they swept, enfiladed on three sides, and losing so heavily that only a few escaped from the desperate venture. But the gallant remnant that struggled back to their own line took 600 prisoners, one trooper alone bringing in fifteen through the enemy's own barrage.

The village of Fricourt, as will be seen by the map, forms a prominent salient, and the British command decided to cut it off by attacking on two sides. An advance was planned on the strongly fortified villages of Ovillers and La Boiselle. The British on the first day won the outskirts and carried all the intrenchments before them, but had not gained control of the ruins, though a part of a brigade had actually entered La Boiselle and held a portion of the place. To complete the operation of cutting off Fricourt it was necessary to carry Mametz on the south; this accomplished, the forces would unite in the north at La Boiselle and Ovillers and, following the long depression popularly known as Sausage Valley toward Contalmaison, would be able to squeeze Fricourt so hard that it must be abandoned by the enemy. The British plans worked out successfully. A division that had been sorely punished at Loos and was now occupying a position west of Fricourt had now an opportunity to avenge its previous disaster. With grim determination to clean up the old score against the Germans, they advanced rapidly into the angle east of Sausage Valley, carrying two small woods and attacking Fricourt from the north and occupying a formidable position that threatened Fricourt.

The strongly fortified village of Montauban fell early in the day of July 1, 1916. Reduced to ruins, it crowned a ridge below the position of the British lines in a hollow north of the PÉronne road at Carnoy. The British artillery had done effective work, and the attack on Montauban resulted in an easier victory than had been expected. The Sixth Bavarian Regiment which defended the place was said to have lost 3,000 out of the 8,500 who had entered the battle. Here for the first time in the campaign was witnessed the advance in line of the soldiers of Britain and France.

It was a moving sight that thrilled and heartened all the combatants. The Twentieth Corps of the French army lay on the British right, while the Thirty-ninth Division under General Nourisson marched in line with the khaki-clad Britons.

Only after surveying the captured ground did the French and British realize what a seemingly impregnable stronghold had been won. Endless labor had been expended by the Germans not only in fortifying the place but in constructing dugouts that were well furnished and homelike. The best of these were papered, with linoleum on the floor, pictures on the wall, and contained bathrooms, electric lights and electric bells. There were also at convenient points bolt holes from which the occupants could escape in case of surprise. Some of the dugouts had two stories, the first being reached by a thirty-foot staircase. Another stairway about as long communicated with the lower floor. Every preparation seemed to have been made for permanent occupation. The Germans had good reasons for believing that their position was impregnable. The utmost ingenuity had been employed to fortify every point. Carefully screened manholes used by the snipers were reached by long tunnels from the trenches. The most notable piece of military engineering was a heavily timbered communication trench 300 feet long, and of such a depth that those passing through it were safe from even the heaviest shells.

Late in the afternoon Mametz fell, after it had been reduced to a group of ruined walls, above which rose a rough pile of broken masonry that represented the village church. The Germans who occupied trench lines on the southern side had shattered the British trenches opposite Mametz so completely that the British infantry were forced to advance over open ground.[Back to Contents]