Part 15 (1/2)
”Take you for? Wouldn't take you fer a bloomin' gift. We used to have one like you with our organ--'ad it on a chain.”
The Ten Hundred prepared after a last night in the line to move back during the first week in April for the long rest upon which their antic.i.p.ations had been longingly concentrated for weeks.
No Battalion moved more than a few miles behind the sectors owing to the uncertainty of future enemy developments. His line of attack had been lengthened from both original flanks until at the lull in his scheme of offensive a length of over seventy miles had been attained.
He was preparing for a second wild onslaught, again to the far south of Pa.s.schendaele ... of the result everyone felt a little uncertain. It was obvious that sooner or later he would attempt a headlong rush upon those lines of communication with the Home Country--Channel Ports--so vital a factor in the efficient maintenance of the B.E.F.
The Normans came out. D Company was sent on in the direction of Proven, attained within a kilo of the town and was intercepted by a despatch rider, who carried with him orders for their immediate return. A stir of apprehensive uncertainty spread through the ranks. What had happened?
Surely they were not going to be rushed into the line somewhere ... they had only just come out.
They turned, encountered the Battalion at Brandhoek. A fleet of lorries was awaiting them.
Something was ON.
A thunderstorm turned its las.h.i.+ng rain upon their unprotected forms, drenched them utterly and damped their spirits. A sense of some indefinable presentiment of future dimmer crept over the mind, that subtle consciousness of approaching death forced its black pessimism upon their thoughts. They watched the heavy grey clouds scuttling overhead, watched the rain dropping from off each man's steel helmet, and gazed across the long desolate stretch of watery earth, tangled debris and shattered cottages.
s.h.i.+vering with the cold, wet, hungry and weary. An hour before, marching elated in the knowledge of a few days' freedom from the haunting knowledge of Life's uncertainty--now they were in for something they all pregnantly felt would involve them in a slaughter that might place Finis to the Battalion. The Cambrai survivors stared sadly into the closing gloom ... they had gone through Rues Vertes--COULD their luck hold twice!
The lorries moved away ... the Norman Ten Hundred went out again to hang-on or fall, to uphold the traditions dearly bought by those who had gone over the Divide a few months before.
If they could DO IT then, they could do it NOW.
XV
APRIL 10-14, 1918
DOULIEU-ESTAIRES
The Ten Hundred slept in their lorries at Berquin before moving into billets. No sign of enemy activity presented itself apart from the incessant rumble of distant guns. A Jerry 'plane came over on reconnaissance, taking little precaution and not flying high. They had unpleasant recollections of enemy 'planes, turned their rifles on him, and between C and D Companies brought him down--they took the occupants prisoners.
At five o'clock received orders to move up in the direction of Doulieu in reserve. They dug in with the inadequate implement carried in all equipment, accompanied only by an unnatural quiet. No troops were falling back on them, no hurried retreat or artillery, and no fierce strafing from enemy guns.
Throughout the night they stared far away into the East watching for the enemy who was coming. The silence was still undisturbed, they waited with fast-beating pulse for the long rows of onward, sweeping grey....
Dawn! And with it orders to move forward to Doulieu itself and there fill in the gap.
Almost into the objective before they saw him. Grey-coated forms swarmed for miles in relay upon relay of everincreasing rows, advanced with deadly certainty, and supported by an astonis.h.i.+ng ma.s.s of machine-guns.
The grim old spirit came to the fore. They rained in on the approaching waves a mad fire from smoking rifles and Lewis guns. His pace slackened not one jot ... again the Normans pumped in the lead until the hands blistered from hot rifles. Futile! They had not the men to stop one-tenth of the foe moving in thousands over fields and hedges upon them. Teeth clenched in agony. ”Curse you,” they sobbed, ”curse your numbers....”
His machine-guns whined over into their ranks ten or twelve thousand rounds a minute along the frontage. Men fell in huddled heaps across one another. The machine-gun barrage swept backwards and forwards over the first and second lines, sweeping and intercrossing in one mighty net ...
the Normans were ordered to fall back, make liaison with battalion relieving on either flank and dig in on a new line.
Again through the night they watched the pall before them, and again Jerry made no sign. Orders were given just after daybreak for a further retirement ... they marched back four or five kilos with heavy hearts.
Why not have fought to a standstill where they had first sighted him?
They shrugged shoulders wearily, and turned to the task of digging in.
He opened his machine-guns upon the thin row of khaki figures, a figure here and there fell forward upon the little spade into a grave he had prepared for himself. Two young Staffords collapsed side by side upon the turf and smiled fixedly up into the sky, six or eight holes perforating each chest.