(July 31st, 1917)

"'Tis Zero! Full of all the thoughts of years!
A moment pregnant with a life-time's fears
That rise to jeer and laugh, and mock awhile
The vaunted courage of the human frame,
Till Duty calls, till Love and beck'ning
Fame
Lead forth the heroes to that frenzied line.
The creeping death that, searching, never stays;
To brave the rattling, hissing streams of lead,
The bursting shrapnel and the million ways
That war entices death; when dying, dead
And living, mingle in the ghastly glare
That taints the beauty of a night once fair,
And seems to flout the Majesty divine."

F. Shuker (Zero).

Safely ensconced beneath the sheets of a very comfortable hospital bed at Worsley Hall, I wrote the following letter in which I described the Third Battle of Ypres up to the time when I left the battlefield. For the progress of the battle beyond that it will be necessary to quote other documents. Here is my own account of the operations written on August 3:

"I will now endeavour to tell you the story of the Third Battle of Ypres. As you are aware, we were preparing for this battle the whole time I was at the Front. It was part of Haig's general plan of campaign for 1917. When I first arrived in the Prison at Ypres, the day before Messines, Captain Andrews had me in his cell and explained to me the plan of campaign. He opened some maps and explained to me that Plumer's Second Army was, very shortly, going to attack on the south of the Ypres Salient with the object of taking Hill 60 and the Messines Ridge. If that attack should prove successful we should, a few days afterwards, do a little 'stunt' on a German trench named Ice Trench. We were issued with photograph maps of this trench and many conferences were held with regard to it. Further, he explained that this was only a preliminary operation: the main campaign of the year was to be fought on the front between Ypres and the Sea, and Sir Hubert Gough was coming to Ypres to take command. Well, the Battle of Messines was fought the following morning; all Plumer's objectives were gained; it was a perfect 'stunt'; but, still, our Ice Trench affair was cancelled! We left Ypres soon afterwards and went into rest billets at Millain and then training billets at Westbecourt. Hunter-Weston's VIII Corps became a reserve corps behind the line and we, Jeudwine's 55th Division, were transferred to Watts's XIX Corps which became part of Gough's Fifth Army—that famous general having arrived in Flanders. While at Westbecourt we—Stockwell's 164 Brigade—practised the Third Battle of Ypres in the open cornfields and amongst the numerous vegetable crops between Cormette and Boisdinghem. When we got back to the Salient we understood Haig's plan to be that Gough's Army should smash forward from Ypres, that there should be a French Army on Gough's left, and that Rawlinson's Fourth Army should land upon, or push up, the Belgian Coast at precisely the same moment as Gough struck north from the Ypres Salient. That plan commended itself to me as highly satisfactory. But one always has to reckon with an enemy as well! I do not know whether Armin got wind of it or not, but he effectively thwarted Haig by doing precisely the kind of thing I expected he would do. Rawlinson's Army was engaged and driven back at Nieuport, thus disorganizing his plans; and Ypres—the other flank—was intensely bombarded with high explosives and gas shells on that never-to-be-forgotten night of July 12-13. The gas casualties in Ypres who were taken to hospital on July 13 were, I was told, 3,000! A much higher figure than I thought at first. A day or two after these events Gratton came in to us at the Ramparts and casually informed us that the Coast idea was postponed: the battle was going to be fought north and south of Ypres only. The Coast landing was going to take place later if the Third Battle of Ypres should prove a success—of which, of course, no patriot could entertain any doubts! Rawlinson was not ready. Nieuport was to me sufficient explanation for that. And Beatty was not ready! That I do not understand. I was very disappointed, indeed, when I heard this news, as I was not very hopeful as to the chance of success in any battle fought in the centre. A flanking movement is, in my opinion, the best policy; and the original idea would have meant, if a landing had been effected, a triangular advance which would have left before Armin only two alternatives—retreat or surrender. But attrition seems to be far more in Robertson's line than strategy! So the Third Battle of Ypres has begun. And, unless things change very quickly, I am bound to say that it is not a success. So much for the general idea.

"During our twenty days in the Ypres Salient, from July 1 to July 20, we suffered very heavily in casualties; and when we came out we were certainly not strong enough to go into battle. So while we were at Valley Camp, Watou, we were reinforced by large drafts. And, in accordance with the above plans, we left Watou on the night of July 25 and marched to Query Camp, near Brandhoek, but on the left of the main road. Here we remained awaiting 'XY night.' 'Z day' was the day on which the battle was to take place. On 'XY night' we left Query Camp and took up our positions in our concentration trenches near Vlamertinghe. My platoon and Allen's platoon were in a trench on the right of the Vlamertinghe-Ypres road, across the field stretching from the road to the railway. Sergeant Brogden's platoon (6 Platoon) was a little further on. Dickinson was in command of B Company. We had our Headquarters in a little wooden dug-out[11] in the centre of the field behind the trench. Battalion Headquarters were at the CafÉ Belge—a house on the right of the road close by. 'XY night' was the night of July 29-30. We got a little sleep during the morning.

"For the last fortnight the artillery had been preparing the way for us, raids had been taking place, and conflicts in the air had been of frequent occurrence; the Royal Engineers had been constructing roads and other means of advance; miniature railways were running up to the front line; and the road from Watou, through Poperinghe and Vlamertinghe, to Ypres was simply thronged with transport. The weather had been fine and hot. On 'XY night' troops were swarming round Vlamertinghe and there was every sign that a great push was about to commence.

"During July 30, in our little wooden dug-out here, Dickinson held conferences consisting of Allen and myself with Sergeant Brogden, Sergeant Baldwin, Sergeants Stokes and, of course, Sergeant-Major Preston and Quartermaster-Sergeant Jack. Did it occur to us that within twenty-four hours we should all be scattered to the winds—some killed, others wounded? I expect it did. But it did not worry us. We smiled and discussed plans. During the day Colonel Best-Dunkley looked in and chatted most agreeably; he was in a most friendly mood. Padre Newman also looked in.

"At 8.55 p.m. I marched off with my platoon along Track 1. All units were moving up to the line. After I had been going about a quarter of an hour half a dozen shells burst quite close to us, badly putting the wind up us. We all lay on the ground. When the disturbance had subsided we moved on again along Track 1, leaving Goldfish ChÂteau,[12] the one building in that region which stands intact, on our right, along Track 6, touching Ypres at Salvation Corner, along the Canal Bank, again across the open and though La Brique, where the Tanks (commanded by Major Inglis) were congregating ready to go forward on the morrow, to Liverpool Trench. We reached Liverpool Trench, the assembly trench from which we were to go over the top on the morrow, about 11 p.m.... D and B Companies were in Liverpool Trench, and C and A Companies in Congreve Walk—the other side of Garden Street. It was a dull, cloudy night. The guns were continually booming. Our howitzers were flinging gas-shells on to every known German battery throughout the night. The enemy replied by shelling Liverpool Trench and Congreve Walk—especially the latter. One shell burst right in the trench, took one of Verity's legs almost clean off, and killed his servant Butterworth. The shells were bursting all night. All our trenches were simply packed with troops ready to go over the top at Zero. Lewis's 166 Brigade filled the trenches in front of us. The 55th Division occupied a front from the west of Wieltje to Warwick Farm. Half of this frontage was occupied by Lewis's 166 Brigade on the left, and Boyd-Moss's 165 Brigade occupied the other half on the right. Stockwell's 164 Brigade occupied the whole frontage in rear with the object of passing through the front brigades and penetrating into the enemy's positions. The 2/5th Lancashire Fusiliers were the left front battalion of the 164 Brigade. Colonel Hindle's 1/4th North Lancashires were on the right. We were supported by the Liverpool Irish as 'moppers up'; and the North Lancs. were supported by the 1/4th King's Own Royal Lancaster Regiment in the same way. In our battalion, D Company, commanded by Captain Bodington, were on the left front. On their right were C Company, commanded by Captain Mordecai. In rear of D Company were B Company commanded by Second-Lieutenant Talbot Dickinson, M.C.; and on our right were A Company commanded by Captain Briggs. The front companies comprised the first two waves; the rear companies the third and fourth waves. The first wave of D Company contained Beesley's platoon on the left; and behind Beesley's platoon was that of Telfer. Then came Sergeant Brogden's platoon of B Company, with Allen on his right. My platoon occupied the whole Company front behind Brogden and Allen. My orders were to advance to the 'Green Line,' and when I got there I was to take Lance-Corporal Tipping's rifle section and four Lewis Gunners on to reinforce Allen at Aviatick Farm where he was to dig a strong point in front of the front-line when the Gravenstafel Ridge was reached. Two of my sections were detached: Corporal Livesey took his bombers with Brogden's platoon to mop up a dug-out beyond Wurst Farm, and Lance-Corporal Heap was sent with his rifle grenadiers to 15 Platoon. On my left was a platoon, commanded by Sergeant Whalley, of the 1/6th Cheshires. They belonged to the 118th Brigade of the 39th Division of Maxse's XVIII Corps—so, you see, I was on the extreme left of Sir Herbert Watts's XIX Corps. It was Cuthbert's 39th Division that was to take St. Julien. We were to go through Fortuin and leave St. Julien just on our left. On the right of our division was the 15th Division. Behind us, in the Watou area, was Nugent's 36th (Ulster) Division, ready to go through us in a day or two. The 15th Division is entirely Scottish. So much for Gough's dispositions for the battle.

"Zero was fixed for 3.50 in the morning. As the moment drew near how eagerly we awaited it! At 3.50 exactly I heard a mine go up, felt a slight vibration, and, as I rushed out of the little dug-out in which I had been resting, every gun for miles burst forth. What a sight! What a row! The early morning darkness was lit up by the flashes of thousands of guns, the air whistling and echoing with shells, the calm atmosphere shaken by a racket such as nobody who has not heard it could imagine! The weird ruins of Ypres towered fantastically amongst the flashes behind us. In every direction one looked guns were firing. In front of us the 166th and 165th Brigades were dashing across no man's land, sweeping into the enemy trenches, the barrage creeping before them. I stood on the parados of Liverpool Trench and watched with amazement. It was a dramatic scene such as no artist could paint.

"Before the battle had been raging half an hour German prisoners were streaming down, only too glad to get out of range of their own guns! I saw half a dozen at the corner of Liverpool Trench and Garden Street. They seemed very happy trying to converse with us. One of them—a boy about twenty—asked me the nearest way to the station; he wanted to get to England as soon as possible!

"The Tanks went over. As daylight came on the battle raged furiously. Our troops were still advancing. Messages soon came through that St. Julien had been taken.

"Our time was drawing near. At 8.30 we were to go over. At 8 we were all 'standing to' behind the parapet waiting to go over. Colonel Best-Dunkley came walking along the line, his face lit up by smiles more pleasant than I have ever seen before. 'Good morning, Floyd; best of luck!' was the greeting he accorded me as he passed; and I, of course, returned the good wishes. At about 8.20 Captain Andrews went past me and wished me good luck; and he then climbed over the parapet to reconnoitre. The minutes passed by. Everybody was wishing everybody else good luck, and many were the hopes of 'Blighty' entertained—not all to be realized. It is a wonderful sensation—counting the minutes on one's wrist watch as the moment to go over draws nigh. The fingers on my watch pointed to 8.30, but the first wave of D Company had not gone over. I do not know what caused the delay. Anyhow, they were climbing over. Eventually, at 8.40, I got a signal from Dickinson to go on. So forward we went, platoons in column of route. Could you possibly imagine what it was like? Shells were bursting everywhere. It was useless to take any notice where they were falling, because they were falling all round; they could not be dodged; one had to take one's chance: merely go forward and leave one's fate to destiny. Thus we advanced, amidst shot and shell, over fields, trenches, wire, fortifications, roads, ditches and streams which were simply churned out of all recognition by shell-fire. The field was strewn with wreckage, with the mangled remains of men and horses lying all over in a most ghastly fashion—just like any other battlefield I suppose. Many brave Scottish soldiers were to be seen dead in kneeling positions, killed just as they were firing on the enemy. Some German trenches were lined with German dead in that position. It was hell and slaughter. On we went. About a hundred yards on my right, slightly in front, I saw Colonel Best-Dunkley complacently advancing, with a walking stick in his hand, as calmly as if he were walking across a parade ground. I afterwards heard that when all C Company officers were knocked out he took command in person of that Company in the extreme forward line. He was still going strong last I heard of him.

"We passed through the 166th Brigade. We left St. Julien close on our left. Suddenly we were rained with bullets from rifles and machine-guns. We extended. Men were being hit everywhere. My servant, Critchley, was the first in my platoon to be hit. We lay down flat for a while, as it was impossible for anyone to survive standing up. Then I determined to go forward. It was no use sticking here for ever, and we would be wanted further on; so we might as well try and dash through it. 'Come along—advance!' I shouted, and leapt forward. I was just stepping over some barbed wire defences—I think it must have been in front of Schuler Farm (though we had studied the map so thoroughly beforehand, it was impossible to recognize anything in this chaos) when the inevitable happened. I felt a sharp sting through my leg. I was hit by a bullet. So I dashed to the nearest shell-hole which, fortunately, was a very large one, and got my first field dressing on. Some one helped me with it. Then they went on, as they were, to their great regret, not hit! My platoon seemed to have vanished just before I was hit. Whether they were in shell-holes or whether they were all hit, or whether they had found some passage through the wire, I cannot say. I only know that, with the exception of Corporal Hopkinson and one or two Lewis Gunners who went forward soon after, they had all vanished. It was one of the many mysteries of a modern battlefield! Allen was going on all right: I saw him going on in front: I believe he got to Aviatik Farm![13] It was 10.20 a.m. when I was wounded. I lay in this shell-hole for some time. When I had been there about half an hour the enemy put down a barrage just on the line which contained my shell-hole! It was horrible. I thought I was lost this time. Shells were bursting all around me, making a horrible row; some of them were almost in the trench. I was covered with the fumes from one or two of them and also sniffed some gas. I put on my box-respirator. One piece of shrapnel hit me on the head, but, fortunately, I had my steel helmet on my head; so I was all right.

"At 11.30 a.m. I decided that I might just as well be blown to bits in the open, trying to get back to safety, as lying in this shell-hole; so I made a dash for it and got out of the barrage. I inquired the way to the nearest aid post, and was told that it was a long way off. But I proceeded in the direction indicated. Before long I met Corporal Livesey returning from his bombing stunt with about half a dozen prisoners and a shrapnel wound in his back; also another lance-corporal, from D Company, who had been on a similar stunt and was wounded in the ear by a bullet. Some of the prisoners were also wounded. So we all walked down together.

"Corporal Livesey told me that Sergeant Brogden[14] was wounded in the arm, Sergeant Stokes killed, and Corporal Chamley wounded. We saw some horrible sights all the way along. We were joined by more prisoners as we went down. German prisoners have only to be told which way to go and they go. They are quite sociable people too—many of them bright-eyed boys of seventeen and eighteen. They are only too glad to carry our wounded men back; they need no escort. We got on very well indeed with them. I suppose that in a sense we were comrades in distress, or, rather comrades in good fortune, in that we were all leaving the field of horrors behind us! Yet they were the very Boches who, an hour before, had been peppering us with those bullets. One would never have imagined that we had so recently been enemies. One of them asked for water to 'drinken;' so I let him have a drink from my water-bottle. About half a dozen of them drank, and they appeared very grateful.

"Germans are not half so vile as they are painted.... They are only doing their bit for their Empire as we are for ours. The pity of it is that destiny should have thrown us into conflict. It is a great pity. How fine it would be if we could let bygones be bygones, shake hands, and lead the world in peace and civilization side by side! If we can fraternize so speedily on the battlefield, why cannot those who are not shooting each other also fraternize? It is a cruel insult to humanity that this thing should go on. War is hell, and the sooner some one arises who has the courage to stop it the better. Somebody will have to take the lead some time. I myself believe in peace after victory—but we are not yet going the right way about achieving victory; and, unless Sir William Robertson speedily changes his plans, we might as well make peace. This killing business is horrible. The present policy of the General Staff is: see which side can do the most killing. A far wiser, and far more humane, policy would be to win it by strategy. I believe in out-man[oe]uvring the enemy and taking as many prisoners as possible; make him evacuate territory or surrender by corps and armies; it can be done if we go the right way about it, but this bloodshed is barbarous.

"When we walked over Wieltje we found our once 'strong point' no longer existent. The sandbags were scattered all over. Yet in the mine below—in the estam—General Stockwell had his Headquarters.

"We were sent on from aid-post to aid-post. They were all crowded with wounded. The number of 'walking cases' was very large. At Potijze we were again sent on. So I walked into Ypres and passed the Cathedral and the Cloth Hall and reached the remains of the Prison which is now the central aid-post for Ypres. There was a pleasant padre there; and he got me a refreshing cup of tea. Then I went on again. I got on a lorry and was taken to the mill at Vlamertinghe, which is known as the 2/1 Wessex Dressing Station. When I got there I was sent upstairs for some tea. On entering the mess, I found Lieutenant Francis also there, having tea. He was wounded in the arm. His arm was in a sling. There were also two or three German officers having tea there. They were quite as sociable as our Allies! Who should come in to see us, a few minutes later, but Major Brighten, who, being on 'battle reserve,' was down at the Transport! He expressed surprise when he saw me, and asked me to tell him all about it. He would insist on carrying some of my equipment downstairs. He informed me that my batman, Critchley, was down below. So I went and saw him. He had got one in the leg too.

"I had my wound dressed here and also had an anti-tetanous inoculation put into me. I did not like it!

"Then Francis and I got into a motor-ambulance and were motored away, through Poperinghe, to Watou. We passed what I assumed to be Nugent's 36th Division coming up in motor-lorries to relieve the 55th Division. At Watou we were taken to the 10th C.C.S. We had our wounds dressed again there and then had tea. Then we got on to a hospital train which was standing in the siding. Who should join us in the saloon on this train but Gaulter, of the King's Own! He, too, had got one in the leg! The question which interested us most on the way back was whether we would get to 'Blighty.' The train went very slowly. We were held up because the Germans were shelling Hazebrouck of all places. They must have some long-range guns!

"We arrived in Boulogne at 5.30 on Wednesday morning, August 1, and were immediately motored to Wimereux, where we entered the 14th General Hospital. We went to bed at once and remained in bed all day and night.

"The next morning I was awakened by the greeting: 'You're for England; you leave at 8.15.' So I got up and had breakfast. Then we were motored down to Boulogne again where we all embarked on the St. David, and sailed for the shores of old England. It was a happy voyage. We landed at Dover at midday....

"The train left Dover at 4.30 p.m. We reached Manchester at midnight and I and seven others were immediately motored to Worsley. So here I am in a nice cosy bed in the spacious mansion of the Egertons of Ellesmere—Worsley Hall. What vicissitudes one does go through!" ...

So, as far as the writer of this book was concerned, Ypres and all that its name implies was now but a memory: I was safely back on the right side of the water once again. My feelings on leaving "Wipers" behind me can best be expressed in the words which a poet of the 55th Division dedicated to the British Soldier in the second number of Sub Rosa:

"Good-bye, Wipers! though I 'opes it is for good,
It 'urts me for to leave yer—I little thought it would.
When I gets back to Blighty, and all the fightin's done,
Mebbe the picters of the past will rise up, one by one.

Like movies at the Cinema, they'll bob up in my brain,
The places that I knew so well—I'll see them all again.
The battered-in Asylum; the Prison scorched and scarred;
And 'ole Salvation Corner with the guns a bellowin' 'ard.
The muddy, ruddy, Ramparts; the mist upon the Moat;
The grey Canal between whose banks no barges ever float.
An' them Cathedral ruins—O Gawd, the fearsome sight!
Like mutilated fingers they points up through the night.
The blighters what relieves us—we'll treat 'em fair an' kind,
They're welcome to the soveneers what we 'ave left be'ind.
Good-bye, Wipers! though I 'opes it is for good,
It 'urts me for to leave yer—I little thought it would."

It was with a thrill of pride that I read in the newspapers during the following days of the magnificent achievement of the 55th Division—of the "Lancashire Men's Great Fight:" "Stubborn in attack and withdrawal." I read of heroic fights round Pommern Castle, of Wurst Farm being captured by a gallant young officer, and, particularly, the case of: "An officer who was left last out of his battalion to hold out in an advanced position (who) said to the padre who has just visited him in hospital, 'I hope the General was not disappointed with us.'" The General, I am sure, was not disappointed with these Lancashire men. No one could think of them without enthusiasm and tenderness, marvelling at their spirit and at the fight they made in the tragic hours—because it was a tragedy to them that, after gaining all the ground they had been asked to take, and not easily nor without losses, they should have to fall back and fight severe rear-guard actions to cover a necessary withdrawal.[15]

It was, naturally, a matter of great interest to me to determine to what particular officers these remarks referred, as no names were given and no battalions mentioned by name. Now, of course, we all know. The officer who reached Wurst Farm was John Redner Bodington, and the gallant young officer who fought like a hound at bay, while wounded over and over again, and hoped that "the General was not disappointed," was none other than the hero whose name is upon the title-page of this book—Bertram Best-Dunkley. And, as the days rolled by, one familiar name after another was recorded in the casualty lists. It was the bloodiest battle in History; the casualty list which contained my name was the longest I have ever seen in the Times.

I wrote to Sergeant Baldwin for information as to the fate of my platoon, and, some time afterwards, received the following reply:

"Ward 24,
"Ontario Military Hospital,
"Orpington, Kent.
"August 15th, 1917.
"Dear Sir,

"I have much pleasure in replying to your letter dated August 5th, 1917. I am very pleased indeed to know that you are safe in 'Blighty.' Well, sir, you ask me where I got to when we went over the top. I think you will remember halting and lying down in no man's land. Well, as I lay there the time seemed to be long; then I got up and went to the front of the platoon to see what had gone wrong. When I got there I found you had gone on and the remainder of the men had not the sense to follow you. So I led on with the remainder, taking my direction from the compass. I reached the hill and passed Schuler Farm on the right. We started to climb the hill and then a funny thing happened: those already at the top came running back again shouting 'Get back and dig in; they are outflanking us.' I took the warning and retired to a suitable position and got the men digging themselves in. We could see the Boches coming over the ridge like a swarm of bees. When they got nearer we opened machine gun and rifle fire. All the time this was going on the artillery had ceased firing, and I began to feel a bit downhearted. Then things quietened down a bit; so I told the lads to make a drink of tea for themselves, which they did gladly enough. All the time we could see Fritz preparing for a counter-attack and we knew it had to come. I waited patiently keeping a look-out for them coming. The men were getting knocked out one by one, until I had only five; and the Lewis Gun had got a bullet through its pinion which rendered it useless. Nothing happened until the evening, and then the bombardment started and we knew we had something to put up with. I sent up an S.O.S. rocket and our artillery opened out, but the shells were dropping short and hitting our men. Then we retired for about fifty yards and took up some shell-holes. I looked round and found all my men had vanished. I was amongst some of the Cams. and Herts. I really did not know what to do. The artillery became more intense and still our shells were dropping short. There was another sergeant out of the Cams. in this shell-hole with a few men; so I told him I would go back and try and get in touch with the artillery. On my way back I got wounded in the leg, so I rolled into a shell-hole. It began to rain and rained heavily all the night. When day broke I found myself covered with clay and mud, and wet through to the skin. I crawled out and looked about me. It was a quiet morning except for a shell bursting now and again, and I could see some men through my glasses, about a mile away, working on a road. I made my way towards them. How I got there I do not know, for I was more dead than alive. I inquired for the dressing-station, which I found after a long walk. I was sent down to the Base to hospital and was sent to England on August 6.

"I am pleased to say that I am feeling much better and my wound is getting on nicely. I hope my letter will find you feeling much better for the rest you have worked so hard for. I saw in the casualty list that the Colonel had died of wounds, the Adjutant killed, Sec.-Lt. Gratton missing, Captain Andrews wounded, and Lt. Telfer missing. I think I have told you all the news you require, and hope you enjoy reading it.

"With best wishes,
"Yours sincerely,
"Robert Charles Baldwin, Sgt."

Sergeant Baldwin was awarded the Military Medal for his services on July 31—August 1, 1917.

Having reproduced the personal narratives of our experiences at Ypres, first by myself and then by my platoon sergeant, it is now desirable to see what happened to the Battalion as a whole. For this it will be necessary to quote the official account in the Lancashire Fusiliers' Annual. After mentioning the machine-gun fire which caused me to extend my platoon the account goes on to say:

"This fire was so heavy that it not only inflicted severe casualties, but caused confusion in the shaking out into extended order, and it is to be believed that from this moment the correct formation was never absolutely regained. Machine-gun fire was active chiefly from Wine House, Spree Farm, parts of Capricorn Support and Capricorn Keep, Pond Farm, Hindu Cot and other points. Seeing that they could not advance till these points were dealt with, the commanders of the leading waves took steps to take the first points, such as Wine House, Spree Farm, Capricorn Support. These were dealt with at considerable loss, some enemy being captured, some killed and some running away. It was difficult to obtain a definite account of all the incidents that happened before the Black Line was reached, but great gallantry was shown by the officers and N.C.O.'s in rallying and leading the men in face of heavy fire. The Commanding Officer, Lieut-Colonel B. Best-Dunkley, put himself at the head of all men in his immediate vicinity, and led them on through intense machine-gun fire. Ultimately the Black Line was reached. The casualties up to this point may be estimated at anything up to 50 per cent of the total strength of the Battalion. However, the advance had to continue and that quickly, as it was impossible to wait to reorganize under the heavy fire; moreover, the advance was timed to a programme of artillery. The advance to the Green Line, the Gravenstafel Switch, 6,000 yards from our original front line, therefore continued. Few details necessarily are obtainable owing to the heavy casualties. The creeping barrage, not a heavy one, certainly not sufficient to deal with the country up to the Green Line, had run away from us. Many more casualties were suffered, but the Battalion eventually reached its objective. Digging in and consolidation at once commenced. Captain J. R. Bodington, commanding left Company, reached Wurst Farm with ten men, this number being shortly reduced by casualties to two. The Green Line had only been in our possession for about twenty minutes when the first enemy counter-attack, consisting of two companies, commenced. This came from a north-easterly direction, sweeping across the front of the division on our left. It was very determined, as the division on our left had not been able to get up; our left flank was quite unprotected.

"An attempt was therefore made to form a defensive flank. The counter-attack halted on a road running north-west and south-east. Finding we had not sufficient men to form a defensive flank, a further withdrawal was ordered to Jew Hill, east of St. Julien. From this point a large enemy counter-attack was observed commencing. This also came from a north-easterly direction, and was apparently simultaneous with that from the south-east affecting the 1/4th Loyal North Lancs.—the battalion on our right. This counter-attack was overwhelming in its strength. It had been preceded by four enemy aircraft, flying low over our advanced positions and firing VÉry lights and machine-guns. The lights were apparently the call for artillery cooperation. They were answered by the opening of fire by heavy guns which dealt with individual points. Owing to the general disorganization caused by the very heavy casualties, troops on the whole front of this unit had now to commence a general withdrawal. Isolated points, however, held out most gallantly and held up the advance of the enemy while consolidation on or about the Black Line was completed by troops in rear and whilst the withdrawal of the remainder was safely effected. A small strong point situated west of Schuler Farm was held by one hundred and thirty men of this Battalion, and the 1/8 (Irish) Battalion, King's Liverpool Regiment and with them Captain Bodington, one of the few remaining officers of the Battalion. Those were first attacked from the front, which attack they warded off. The enemy counter-attack then developed on their left and right; both these attacks also were held off for some time by machine-gun, Lewis gun, and rifle fire. The few survivors were forced to withdraw and fight their way back, Captain Bodington and ten other ranks reaching the Black Line safely.

"Battalion Headquarters was situated at Spree Farm, and they only received late warning that the enemy were near them. Lieutenant-Colonel B. Best-Dunkley gathered together all men available, and, placing himself at the head, beat off the counter-attack at this point. At this time our own artillery brought down an extremely heavy barrage on the enemy which appeared to catch him, and it was probably due to this that they were unable to gain a footing in the Black Line on our immediate front. During this withdrawal the Adjutant—Lieutenant R. Andrews—was killed. The Commanding Officer was wounded shortly afterwards—about 8 p.m. There was then no officer of this Battalion known to be alive, and the Orderly Room Sergeant—Sergeant F. Howarth—took command, organizing the defence of that part of the line until the Battalion was withdrawn to Bilge Trench, about 9 a.m. the following morning—August 1. Captain Bodington, who was the one surviving officer, came in subsequently from the left of the line."

Let us now follow the movements of Captain Bodington. He afterwards wrote the following report:

"Up to the time of reaching a point a hundred yards in rear of the Black Line, the advance was easy.

"On crossing the small rise behind Wine House we came under very heavy machine-gun and rifle fire from both Wine House and Spree Farm. Two platoons had to be used in driving the enemy from the above-named farms, and the casualties were heavy in this minor operation.

"Both the dug-outs at Wine House and Spree Farm were in fairly good condition, and from here with the remainder of the men we pushed forward towards Border House without much difficulty, and hence to Winnipeg, where we got into touch with the 1/6th Cheshires on our left, and proceeded to the Gravenstafel Ridge. Being left here with only two of my men, I could do no more than reconnoitre Wurst Farm and Aviatik Farm.

"Both the dug-outs and O.P. in these farms were in fairly good condition, but must have been evacuated hurriedly, although no documents of any importance could be found.

"We could see at a distance of about six hundred yards more of our troops on the right, but unable to get into touch with them as the enemy held posts between us.

"On returning to the 1/6th Cheshires on our left, a counter-attack had already been launched against their left flank, consequently it was decided to withdraw to the Winnipeg-Kansas Cross Roads. It was found impossible to make a stand here, so the withdrawal continued to a point where the 13th Sussex Regiment had dug themselves in on Jew Hill.

"About two hours elapsed, when it was found that a party of the enemy were getting round their left flank. A party was at once detailed to deal with this, but at this time I became detached from this party and consequently reported back to Battalion Headquarters, then situated at Spree Farm.

"I was at once detailed to take a party up to reinforce a partly organized strong point about the dug-outs at D. 13. a. 8.0. I found here two officers and about one hundred men. The position was strong, but both flanks were unguarded.

"There were two machine-guns and one Lewis gun. After a short time a strong counter-attack was made by the enemy on this position from the front which was easily beaten off, but almost simultaneously we were attacked on either flank.

"By this time, another machine-gun had been brought into position, but the Lewis gun had used up all its magazines. A number of casualties had been caused. We held the enemy for half an hour, and a heavy battery was shelling us considerably. Two direct hits were obtained causing a number of casualties. Meanwhile the enemy was advancing on either flank. It was found that only forty or fifty men remained, and little means of escape was left, but it was decided to withdraw to a line well wired about three hundred yards in rear. On reaching this point it was found to be untenable and the withdrawal continued to the Black Line, where some of the 165 and 166 Brigades had been digging in.

"They were at once warned of the advance of the enemy, and here he was finally beaten off. A number of casualties were sustained in the withdrawal from the dug-outs behind Schuler Farm. At that time we could not get into touch on our left, but the gap was soon filled in by a party of the 6th King's Liverpool Regiment and the Battalion Headquarters from Spree Farm. Later we got into touch with the 1/5th South Lancashire Regiment on our left and the 45 Brigade on our right.

"At that time I could find none of my own Battalion.

"(Signed) J. R. Bodington,
"Captain,
"2/5th Battalion Lancashire Fusiliers."

The 2/5th Lancashire Fusiliers, what remained of them, "spent August 1, Minden Day, in the utmost discomfort in Bilge Trench, everybody was soaked through from the pouring rain. However, we all flaunted Minden roses in our helmets. On August 2nd we were relieved and marched back to our transport lines. There all preparations had been made for us and everybody enjoyed a good hot meal. The same evening we were taken back in buses to the Watou area." Thus writes the official chronicler in the Lancashire Fusiliers' Annual.

It was on July 31 that Philip Cave Humfrey distinguished himself by his able and courageous leading of his Transport to carry supplies to the worn and wearied troops. "He led one hundred pack mules, laden with ammunition and bombs, through heavy enemy barrage to a point close behind our lines which was then being defended against a strong counter-attack. At this point he unloaded his mules in spite of hostile machine-gun and rifle fire, and the ammunition which he brought up was immediately used by the troops who were defending the position. By his promptness and fearlessness he greatly assisted the defence at a critical moment." For this act of gallantry he was awarded the Military Cross.

Many were the brave deeds done and numerous the honours gained by the officers, non-commissioned officers and men of the Battalion on this historic day. Captain Bodington was awarded the Military Cross as a matter of course. He was the sole combatant officer who came through unscathed, and his unique services have already been fully recorded; he showed himself on July 31, what he has invariably shown himself since, an incomparable man over the top, fearless and ruthless, ever where the fight is hottest and always ready to display his individual initiative on all possible and impossible occasions, a born man of action to whom long experience of shot and shell has made the art of modern war a second nature—an officer after Best-Dunkley's own heart: the Military Cross was the least form of recognition which could reward such an achievement as his. The bright and chivalrous Newman too—who had already been recommended for the Military Cross for his bravery in tending wounded at the Menin Gate on Messines Night—won this decoration by his unselfish devotion to duty on July 31. Horace Beesley commanded his platoon with such courage and success right out on our far-flung battle line in the vicinity of Wurst Farm and Aviatik Farm until he was badly wounded; and to him also was the Military Cross awarded. And John Agnew, who was second-in-command of C Company, took command of that company when Captain Mordecai was wounded: "Although shot through the knee, he continued to advance and lead his men to their objective—a distance of some 4,000 yards. He was then again wounded and had to return, being wounded a third time on his way back. Although his wounds were serious he refused to take a stretcher, in order that more serious cases might be dealt with. He set a splendid example of pluck and unselfishness." The Military Cross was also Agnew's reward. When I met him again at Scarborough he was a cripple. Heroic, too, was the end of that flamboyant patriot Talbot Dickinson, M.C., my Company Commander. "He was wounded in the arm," wrote one of his friends, "but carried on to a very advanced position, and, while encouraging his men, was shot through the head." With him Sergeant-Major Preston, too, was killed.

Sergeant Howarth was awarded the Distinguished Conduct Medal for his personal initiative in taking command of the Battalion when no officers were to be found, and for the able way in which he executed his task; and the D.C.M. was also awarded to Lance-Corporal Lawson.

Eleven Military Medals were awarded for deeds done that day: Sergeant Baldwin, Sergeant Olive, Corporal Fox, Lance-Corporal Furnes, Sergeant Hudson, and Privates Baron, Daynes, R. Turner, Rouse, Rodwell and Fitzpatrick.

The casualties, as has already been pointed out, were tremendous. Five hundred and ninety-three other ranks went into battle; four hundred and seventy-three became casualties. It was a very tiny Battalion therefore that went to rest, reorganize, and train at Le Poirier a few days later!

Gilbert Verity had expired shortly after his misfortune in Congreve Walk. Douglas Bernard Priestly was shot through the head and killed instantly almost as soon as he got over the top. The fate of the Adjutant, Reggie Andrews, whom I last saw aimlessly wandering about the battlefield shortly after we went over and who looked over his glasses at me and inquired whether I had seen anything of Headquarters, has already been recorded. And the Assistant-Adjutant met a similar fate: Gratton was, first of all, wounded and he lay in a shell-hole; and while he was in the shell-hole another shell came right into the hole and took his head clean off. Joye remained with Colonel Best-Dunkley until quite late in the day, when he got the 'Blighty' in the leg which was to send him to join me at Worsley Hall. Captain Briggs, Telfer, and Young, together with a large number of other ranks, were taken prisoners; Briggs and Telfer were also wounded. West was badly wounded. Captain Andrews, Captain Mordecai and Donald Allen were all wounded quite early in the day. Out of nineteen combatant officers eighteen were casualties. The non-combatants, Padre Newman and Dr. Adam came through this battle safely, but they were both wounded at the Battle of Menin Road on September 20! Newman got to England with his wound after that battle, but he was very soon back with the Battalion again to play an even more conspicuous part in the drama of the Great War.

It was a great day was the 31st of July. General Gough sent the following message of congratulation to Brigadier-General Stockwell:

"The Army Commander wishes to convey his thanks and congratulations to the G.O.C. and all ranks of the 164th Infantry Brigade on their fine performance on July 31st. They carried out their task in a most gallant manner and fought splendidly to retain their hold on the ground won.

"All officers showed energy, courage, and initiative in dealing with the situation, and the men under their command in spite of heavy losses did their utmost by carrying out their orders to ensure our success and the enemy's defeat. Great credit is due to G.O.C. 164th Brigade for the magnificent behaviour of the troops under his command." And Stockwell sent on the message with the following personal addition: "The Brigadier-General Commanding has much pleasure in forwarding the above remarks of the Army Commander. He considers that all the credit is due to the officers and men of the Brigade."

Major-General Jeudwine congratulated Stockwell in the following terms: "Well done, 164th Brigade. I am very proud of what you did to-day. It was a fine performance and no fault of yours you could not stay." And in the course of a Special Order of the Day issued to his Division on August 3, General Jeudwine said: "The attack you made on the 31st is worthy to rank with the great deeds of the British Army in the past, and has added fresh glory to the records of that Army."

Meanwhile, the supreme hero of the day lay at the Main Dressing Station mortally wounded. But like Sir Henry Lawrence long ago he had the consolation of feeling that he had tried to do his duty. The Reverend James Odgen Coop, D.S.O., T.D., M.A., the Senior Chaplain to the 55th Division, visited the dying Best-Dunkley at the Main Dressing Station on August 1. It was to Colonel Coop that Colonel Best-Dunkley said that he hoped the General was satisfied, and Colonel Coop recounted the conversation to General Jeudwine. Old "Judy's" heart was touched as it always was by any deeds of gallantry, and to Best-Dunkley he immediately wrote the following historic letter:

"Headquarters, 55th Division.
"1st August, 1917 (Minden Day).
"Dear Best-Dunkley,

"The padre has given me your message, and I am very much touched by it.

"Disappointed! I should think not, indeed. I am more proud of having you and your Battalion under my command than of anything else that has ever happened to me.

"It was a magnificent fight, and your officers and men behaved splendidly, fighting with their heads as well as with the most superb pluck and determination.

"The 31st July should for all time be remembered by your Battalion and Regiment and observed with more reverence even than Minden Day. It was no garden of roses that you fought in. I have heard some of the stories of your Battalion's doings and they are glorious. And I have heard of your own doings too, and the close shave you had.

"Nothing would give me greater pleasure than that you should come back and command your Battalion, and I greatly hope you will. I am afraid you have painful wounds, but I trust they will not keep you long laid by.

"The best of luck to you.
"Yours,
"H. S. Jeudwine."

"General Jeudwine's hopes were not to be realized. After a few days' agony Best-Dunkley passed away. On August 6 Major Brighten issued the following pathetic Special Order to the 2/5th Lancashire Fusiliers at Le Poirier:

"I regret to inform all ranks of the Battalion that our late Commanding Officer, Lieut.-Colonel B. Best-Dunkley, died at a C.C.S. yesterday from wounds received in the attack on 31st July—an attack to the magnificent achievement of which he contributed so largely in the long preparation and training and in the actual carrying out. His personal gallantry in leading on the Battalion in the face of heavy enemy fire was an example of bravery and courage which has added to the laurels of the Regiment, and his loss is one which will be felt deeply.

"(Signed) G. S. Brighten,
"Major, Commanding 2/5 Battalion
Lancashire Fusiliers.
"August 6th, 1917."

Best-Dunkley was buried at Proven. The funeral was taken by Padre Newman. As the body was lowered into the Flanders clay General Jeudwine exclaimed: "We are burying one of Britain's bravest soldiers!" The Battalion buglers played the Last Post. And the spot where the hero lies is marked by the traditional Little Wooden Cross.

The crowning triumph came when he was awarded the Victoria Cross; though, to the great sorrow of all, he did not live to know that he had won it. I well remember the excitement in the Mess at "Montpellier" at Scarborough when we read the following announcement in the Manchester Guardian:

And some time afterwards I noticed, in an illustrated paper, a little photo entitled "Daddy's V.C." It was the picture of a little baby being held in his mother's arms at Buckingham Palace, while His Majesty King George the Fifth pinned upon his frock the Victoria Cross.