Andrew Wareham - Falling into Battle

“Maybe… Have a word with Sergeant Brewer, tell him to take his regulars back first if we have to pull out. We can follow with the Terriers to cover them.”

“Right, sir. He’ll know why you’re doing that, sir. He’ll make sure the men know as well.”

“No need to make a performance of it, Sergeant. As soon as the rations come up, get the men fed – something hot, if there’s time. Issue ammunition at double – fill the men’s pouches and their pockets as well and stick some in their knapsacks besides. The way we are using it, they will need every round they can carry.”

“Goes against Regulations, sir.”

“Von Kluck the Regulations, Sergeant!”

Sergeant Grace passed the story along; within the hour ‘Von Kluck it’ was the favourite swear word of the whole battalion.

“What is this, Sergeant?”

“Bully beef stew, sir. Finest kind! Cooks have thrown in boiled spuds and flour to thicken it up and they got hold of some cabbages and chopped them up, and some turnips from the fields, sir. Good for you! Lots of it, as well. Fresh bread to dip in the gravy. French stuff, not proper bread, but you can’t taste the difference when it’s well soaked.”

It was hot and filling. The men would fight better for full bellies.

“Tea as well?”

“Got to, sir. Must have tea with a meal. Ain’t right without, sir. Half past eleven, sir. Them field guns are all set up, sir. Three inch Krupps, sir, twelve pounders – seventy-sixes they call ‘em for some reason. I reckon they’re going to start shooting at one second past midday, sir. There’s other batteries a bit further down, towards the crossroads, sir.”

“Tell Corporal Abbott to pull his platoon out of the hedge and into the woods next to Corporal Ekins and get their heads down while the guns are bombarding us. As soon as they see the infantry coming forward, get the men up and shooting across them.”

“That ought to surprise Fritz, sir. What direction if they get pushed out of the woods, sir?”

“Downhill. Not much choice. West towards the canal and into the village there. If they chase us, we can hold in the houses and pitheads. If they don’t, we can take them in the flank. We should be able to hold the woodland long enough to make them turn towards us and let the rest of the company get clear.”

Richard found Captain Platt and discussed his plan with him.

“Sounds sensible, Baker. Colonel Braithwaite has ordered us to stand firm but it’s obvious that we shall be overrun. Don’t matter what the general wants, we can’t hold against six full battalions backed by guns. You stay in the copse as long as you can with your half company. I’ll pull back from the lane towards the stream behind us when I must and hopefully you can hurt them as they cross your front. After nightfall, I’ll bring the rest of the company due west and into the colliery village, meet you there. I’ll pass the word to the other company commanders that we are setting the coal pits as our fallback point. Better than being steamrollered by what looks like a full division. There’s at least two brigades of infantry coming together northeast of us and I would not be surprised if there were more behind them.”

The guns sounded at midday, to the second as Sergeant Grace had predicted.

“Battery of six guns opposite us, sir. Sounds like at least twelve more not so far to the east. Three batteries for the battalion, sir. Trying to push us to the west, away from the gap between us and the next mob. We didn’t get another battalion up to fill the gap between us and the Hampshires, sir.”

“You think Fritz will be aiming to go down the road we came up?”

“Makes sense, sir. Look, sir! They got one of they airyplanes up there, watching us!”

There was a small, dove-shaped machine crossing at huge speed, at least twice as fast as a running horse, quicker far than the car Richard had driven. It was heading almost due south, over the crossroads.

“That must be where they are going. Good thing we moved into cover, Sergeant Grace.”

The twelve pound shells were exploding in the lane itself and on either side of the hedgerows, would have caused massive casualties if the company had remained in position.

“They reckon those guns are clumsy; heavy and slow to move over rough ground, sir. That’s why they came up after the soldiers, I suppose.”

Richard nodded. It meant that the field guns would not be a direct part of the immediate pursuit as they fell back.

“They’ll try to keep to the roads and will have to use bridges over the streams, Sergeant. Machine guns are opening up as well…”

“First line of troops ought to be moving forward, sir, under their cover.”

They watched as the grey figures marched steadily forward and were met by rifle fire, less of it than first thing.

“Guns have made a difference, sir. First line is still coming forward. Faster on our front, sir.”

“Corporal Abbott, ten rounds rapid. Ekins, hold. Fire!”

Fifteen rifles firing into the line exposed in the open field brought at least sixty men down, caused confusion as the NCOs tried to turn their men to meet the fire from the quarter. There was a delay and then a second line came forward, the westernmost companies facing towards the trees and the few rifles that seemed to be there.

“Wait. Hold fire. Abbott and Ekins both… Fire.”

Richard and Sergeant Grace added to the volume. The nearly four hundred rounds in barely half a minute smashed the two lines back in disorder, dropping dozens of men.

“Fall back to the far edge of the trees.”

“Captain Platt’s going back, sir. Can see his men halfway down the field already, sir. Firing’s dying away to the east, sir.”

They could not see all of the sunken lane for the barricades they had erected along it, such as remained after the shell fire. Presumably the other companies had withdrawn or had been overrun.

“Pickford’s still busy, sir.”

They could hear a single rifle firing aimed shots at intervals of twenty or thirty seconds.

Shells began to drop in the woods, probing fire from a single gun.

“Might be low on rounds, sir. Don’t want to waste enough to level the woodland.”

“I’m not arguing, Sergeant. Those shells are too small for the job. They are blowing trees down but they aren’t smashing them up or setting the whole woods afire.”

“Ain’t easy, destroying woodland, sir. Saw it in Burma a couple of times, trying to push some sort of rebels out of the jungle with guns. Always at it in Burma, they was. Needs the big naval guns, the ones they send ashore from their ships, to do the job. Four point sevens or six inch even, they could do the job, but little field guns ain’t man enough.”

“Stay in cover here until nightfall, if we can, Sergeant. If they send in infantry to flush us out, then we fall back to the bottom of the hill. There’s cover there – scrubland on this side of the stream. If we can, follow the path besides the stream until we get to the village and the bridge there.”

“Can see it, sir. There’s folks legging it out of the village, sir. Looks like the local people don’t fancy being in the middle of a battleground.”

“Be fools to stay, Sergeant.”

“Don’t want the womenfolk there when the soldiers is on the rampage, sir.”

They said no more, stayed in cover as the other half of the company fell back to the stream directly below the sunken lane. Half an hour later two German battalions followed, pushing forward in a mass.

“Wait for the second battalion, Sergeant. Get as many as possible out in the open field. Encourage them to fall back to the east.”

Captain Platt achieved a crossfire from due south as they fired their first volleys. The two battalions coalesced into one and shifted to the east, almost running, the officers frantically trying to pull them into order, to reform their lines, to turn them back to their original target.