Herbert Bailey Remembers (Part 4)

My job this time is to follow up with the transport. The attack is preceded with a terrific bombardment forming a barrage under and behind which the troops advance. The Americans hop over first. They are to reach a given point, then open out and our boys go through them and continue the chase. These Americans are about the finest and gamest body of men that anyone came across. Poor lads were for the most part new to the game and were over-anxious in their hurry to gain ground; not only left many Germans behind them sheltered in dugouts but ran right into their own barrage. Consequently their casualties were far greater than they need have been. They were shot with our own guns and in the back by failing to mop up the Germans as they went.
Our boys are older hands at the game and are now very seldom caught this way. They mop up as they go leaving none unless they are prisoners and disarmed. By doing this they (the Americans) gave our men a hard task to perform. They not only had to go over and take the ground won, but before they could proceed, they had to mop up the trenches of live Germans, hordes of which were still underground, and this they succeeded in doing in remarkably quick time. The early effects are soon to be seen by streams of prisoners and wounded coming to the rear. A truly pitiful procession to witness.
Fritz is firing back and putting some heavy stuff onto the roads to prevent transport etc from coming up. We get as far as Hargecour (a village recently taken) and are ordered to stop for a while. He, directly after, put over a number of gas shells right in amongst us. Of our small party of 7 men, he gets three badly wounded and four horses killed. It's nothing short of a miracle he didn't get the whole lot of us straight out. We apply our first aid bandages to the men's wounds. I'm fortunate enough to bail up an empty ambulance car right away so we lift them in and they are borne away to the Aid Port. One of the drivers rides back to the horse lines for more assistance in the form of horses. On his arrival, Fritz is shelling them and the Sergeant's horse is shot from under him. In this hot-spot he has to stay for the remainder of the day awaiting assistance that couldn't get up.
Our boys further forward had meantime, found shelter in a Pill Box in the Hindenburg Line, and after having had a lively time all day, at last got protection from this source. We were waiting the opportunity to get to them with their tucker and also blankets. The chance didn't come that night. At dusk we started back for the house lines. It soon became pitch dark and commenced to pour with rain. We were in a rather pitiful plight and drenched to the skin. Finally, we lost our bearings and for a while, matters were made much more creepy, for we were surrounded with tanks and each was manoeuvring for positions. Had either of them stepped on us ... well!!
After wandering about for an hour or two, we eventually get on the right track again. In the meantime, a party had gone forward with the men's rations etc. So we find our way back to the Quarry tunnel (Bakerloo Tunnel, it's called) with a blanket and spend the night there. In the morning, we proceed up the line to join up with the mob. On the way up we get the good news that the whole of the stunt the day before had been a complete success. Fritz had cleared out of Bellicourt and our men were well on their way towards St Quentin. The Hindenburg Line had collapsed, and our boys had slept in it that night.
Gruesome sights presented themselves to us on our way up. Corpses are strewn everywhere, in all conditions. Two of our own men are seen lying by the roadside having paid the supreme penalty and we're told there are several others wounded and gassed. Also two others killed. The battle though was successful; but hasn't been accomplished without a frightful toll on lives. We find our lads in the Trench and Pill Box. These Pill Boxes are of reinforced concrete and very strong shelters. All around are frightful scenes of the great conflict that has raged. Tanks left stranded, burnt out and derelict. Undoubtedly our great advance has been due to the vast superiority of both tanks and aircraft. Nothing Fritz has got appears to be able to prevent their advance.
Honour and Glory of War may be all right to read about in history, but to witness it is a far different matter.
Horrible carnage and bloodshed; dead men lying everywhere in all attitudes. Shell holes, trenches, barbed wire entanglements, torn to shreds and rolled down by the tremendous weight of tanks or torn to shreds by gun fire. Fritz's still throwing back his shells amongst us occasionally by his long range guns.
We are now in Bellicourt, well in the Hindenburg Line, and a place which is only a heap of rubbish. Fritz is a marvel with his deep dug-outs etc. They are to be found everywhere and some safe possies they are too. Down them one can get a good sleep and hardly know there's a war on. I sleep in one part of this night; the other part is occupied by being on Gas Picket. That is to raise the alarm and awaken the men if gas is sent over.
During the night some Infantry coming out of the line, stop in the trench where we are. Poor lads, they've suffered very heavy casualties and some platoons are almost wiped out. They are soaked through and miserable. Our boys give up their places to them. If there's any hell at all, it's in France today. We're conquering it, true, and we will win, but what a price is being paid for victory in blood.

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