On the fourth day after my return, the battalion fell in and cleaned camp and route marched a distance of four kilometres to Dickebush camp on the road to Ypres, arriving at midday. Here I was detailed as Sergeant of the Quarter Guard, the guard room being in a hut at the main entrance of the camp on the main road. During the following night, the Germans made an air raid on the camp and dropped several bombs on the road opposite and amongst the horse lines and huts, but fortunately caused no casualties amongst the troops but killing and maiming several horses as they stood tethered to the horse lines. All night long, the guns boomed and roared in the distance towards the firing line, whilst overhead in the moonlight airplanes Sars|]whirred and vibrated, some German, some British. The aircraft guns keeping up a constant fire of shrapnel whenever a German plane was caught in the searchlight.

These searchlights were stationed at intervals behind the line and whenever a German plane was located or was detected by the microphones, streams of light were turned to sky which swept the heavens in search of the offending place. When a beam of light touched a plane, the plane showed up with a bright white light. Other lights were instantly switched onto this patch of white until the German plane was surrounded by dozens of beams of glaring light from all directions. The plane was then peppered with “archies” from the aircraft batteries until it was either drawn back towards its own lines or until it was destroyed by a lucky shell. This kind of thing went on, night after night, both sides making raids on each others camps, horse lines and transports on the roads, causing a good deal of destruction and making night hideous with the constant rending crash of the dropping bombs and the banging of the aircraft batteries.

Air raids were so frequent both during the night and day that it became necessary to protect the huts and tents with banks of earth, the earth being piled up to the height of the hut all round, thus affording a breast work which stopped the pieces from entering the huts or tents should a bomb drop in the vicinity. In addition, aircraft guards were mounted with Lewis guns and whistles. Whenever a plane was heard or seen approaching, the whistle was blown and everybody took shelter behind the banks of earth or in the dugouts and trenches or in fact in any place which afforded protection against the bursting bombs. If the aeroplane flew low, the Lewis gun was fired at it, thus making the aviator take himself off in a hurry.

After spending about 24 hours near Dickebush Hut encampment the battalion left and marched up past “Halfway House” through the battered ruins of the town of Ypres and passing through Meningate on to the Menin Road beyond. Just outside the walls of Ypres we turned into an open field skirting the moat, to the right and towards the firing line and there we proceeded to build splinter-proof dugouts to provide us with shelter. The place was known as “Windy Green” and there we remained for three days. On the first day after having barely completed the building of our dugouts, we were subjected to a heavy air raid by 14 Gothas, which sailed overhead like gigantic eagles, dropping showers of bombs in amongst us and on the roads which were choked with transport of all descriptions. We all hugged the ground wishing we were worms, whilst the bombs dropped in showers, with a crash! crash! crash! all around us, until at last the raid was over and the Gothas sailed back to their own lines for another load of bombs.

We found that we had lost three men wounded when the raid was on, whilst on the road not far distant, several teams of mules had been blown up and the mangled remains of the poor brutes lay in all directions. At “Windy Green” I was acting Company Sergeant Major for two days and consequently had to detail men for fatigues and duties. On the morning of the 2nd day, C Company was detailed for duck board laying fatigue, under Capt. Marlan, on Westhoek Ridge, where we spent the day until 2 pm in laying a duckboard track, under heavy shell fire, towards Paschendale ridge.

The surrounding country was, if possible, even more battered and ploughed up by shell fire than was Pozieres on the Somme. Not a standing wall was to be seen or a square yard of ground which was not torn up by a shell burst. The ground was pitted with huge shell-holes in the brown loamy soil, whilst the litter of the battlefield was strewn about in every direction. The country was crisscrossed by abandoned trenches and barbed wire entanglements and dotted here and there with huge square concrete pill boxes which were strong enough to withstand shells of any calibre and in which the Germans had put up many stubborn fights until at last overpowered by our glorious infantry, who finally evicted them with bomb and bayonet, leaving the bodies of the Huns lying strewn about in groups where they fell.

In the trenches, were also many bodies of dead Huns, killed by our terrific barrages and by the fine bayonet and bomb work of our infantry whilst the parapets were littered with steel helmets, gas helmets, equipment and rifles where they were abandoned by the fleeing or captured enemy. In every direction could be seen working parties of troops engaged in laying duckboard tracks, building roads and carrying material to the forward dumps, whilst overhead the shells whined and screamed to burst with a crash and a bang! somewhere on the shell torn battlefield and nowhere in particular.

The artillery, which was ranged about in batteries anywhere they could obtain a little shelter, kept up a constant shelling on the German lines whilst overhead aeroplanes sailed and manoeuvred, engaged in spotting, observing and photographing the enemy lines and trying to gather information to be used in preparing the plans for the next attack. As we worked on our duck board track, the wounded from the firing line kept passing down on their way to the dressing stations, some being assisted by their more lightly wounded comrades, whilst the more badly wounded were carried by stretcher bearers, all being utterly worn out and haggard looking, with torn clothing and gory bandages. After completing our set task we returned via “Zillebeke B track” down the duckboards, past “Burr” Crossroads and Hellfire corner, up the Menin road to our camp at “Windy Green” where we rested until early next morning. At 4 am next morning, we continued the work we had begun the night before, returning as before about 3 o’clock in the afternoon, after having laid over 500 duckboards, amidst shell fire and scenes as related above.

On the third day at Windy Green, Sgts. Smith, Elliott, Fulton, and myself were paraded to the Commanding officer, Col. Ralston, at his tent by the side of the moat under the walls of Ypres, and were there ordered to remove our stripes from our sleeves and substitute stars on our shoulders instead, as we were now promoted to Commissioned Rank and were 2nd Lieutenants in His Majesty’s Forces. We then saluted and went off to digest our sudden elevation, which to me was rather overwhelming. In the first place, I did not look like an officer, as I had three days growth of beard, was covered with lice and my clothing was disreputable, being out at elbows and very shabby looking. The first thing to be done was to get rid of our rifles and equipment as we now had no need for them, being officers, after which we shifted our quarters to the Officer’s tents. For the time being, I was to remain in “C” Company but later was removed to “B” Company. For the rest of that day I went about in a kind of dream, being scarcely able to realize my change of fortune. Hitherto, I had been in the ranks and had mixed with N.C.O.’s and men, and had groused and cursed with them on occasion, had rebelled against the authority of my superiors and all my friends were in the ranks. Now, I was an officer and had to cut myself away from all that kind of thing and moreover my fellow sergeants and pals had to address me as “Sir” which somehow seemed strange and made me feel awkward as I knew that most of my fellow sergeants were jealous of my promotion and only emphasised their respectfulness out of sarcasm. However, I made up my mind to carry out my duties to the best of my ability and kept myself aloof from my one time pals and carried on.

Next morning, I was detailed as second in command to Capt. Marlan*, to take a fatigue party of ninety odd men and sergeants etc. up to the forward slope of Westhoek ridge to continue our work of laying duck boards towards Anzac House, just behind the firing line. We had just passed Hellfire Corner, in the small hours of the morning and were passing up the Corduroy Road, past a battery of 4.5 howitzers, when suddenly the Germans put down a barrage on the battery we were passing. In a moment, all was confusion. Shells began to fall on and by the side of the corduroy road, destroying a team of mules standing by the side of the road and killing several men, until presently the place looked like a shambles. Mixed with the high explosive shells were several gas shells which made it necessary for our men to put on gas helmets. To make matters worse, the shell smoke became so thick that it was impossible to see the track and it was with extreme difficulty that we moved slowly up the track through the barrage and bodies of the dead and dying until at last the remnants of our party emerged in the open and away from the track of the barrage, hopelessly lost. It was so dark that we could not locate our position, so just wandered on in what we considered to be the right direction and then when we had got clear of the shell fire, sat down to await the dawn. When it began to get light, we collected our men and found that out of 90 odd, we had lost over 30, some having become scattered in the confusion and some having been hit by the shellfire. With these we carried on until we arrived at Westhock ridge, where our dump of duckboards was, on which we were to work.

* P.S.-Capt. Marlan died 1958 in Melbourne, as Brig. Gen R. Marlan

Captain Marlan took the laying party and I took the carrying party, my duty being to carry from the dump to the track, where Captain Marlan’s party placed the duckboards in position. The Huns began to bombard our dump with 5.9’s shortly after we had taken the first load, making it impossible to approach the dump any more, so that we lost another hour in searching for another dump from which to draw the necessary duckboards. However despite all difficulties, we managed to lay 400 duckboards out of the 500 we were supposed to set, and carried the track as far as Anzac House. This spot was named Anzac House more as a land mark than for any other reason. It was simply a German concrete pillbox which had been captured on September 20th during the advance by the 18th Battalion, a private making the place famous by planting an Australian flag on the summit. It was situated on the crest of a ridge surrounded by shell torn ground and immense shell holes which churned up the brown soil just as if a gigantic plough had turned up the whole surface. Not a vestige of grass was to be seen anywhere, nothing in fact except a churned up expanse of shell holed, brown soil, guarded by one isolated pill box on the crest of a ridge.

When the job was declared finished, we sent the fatigue party back to camp at Windy Green in small parties under the N.C.O.’s and Captain Marlan and I made our way across country by a short track of which we were familiar, narrowly escaping death on the way by being blown up by a 5.9 shell which burst within a few yards of us. Half way to our camp at Windy Green, we struck the Menin Road at Hellfire Corner, which spot was marked by numerous shell holes and destroyed waggons, carcases of mules and horses, etc.which had been hit by shell fire at this dangerous spot, as they conveyed materials to the guns and dumps further towards the firing line. Continuing our way along Menin Road towards Ypres we passed a dressing station, around which were congregated scores of wounded men, some in a badly wounded condition, lying on stretchers, others being classed as walking wounded as they had been wounded in the arms and head, etc. thus leaving them the use of their legs. Here we refreshed ourselves at the Comforts Fund Coffee Stall and then continued our way down the road, in and out of the traffic which choked the road, until we arrived back at our camp in Windy Green.

On October 7th, the battalion shifted camp into the tunnels under the walls of Ypres and there remained until the following night. During that day, Ypres was again raided by Gothas, who sailed over amidst the barrage of “archies” and machine gun fire and dropped several bombs amongst the ruins of the town causing much havoc amongst the congested traffic on the road. They also dropped a lucky bomb amongst a large group of men at the coffee stall at Menin gate, killing and wounding over thirty men as the stood crowded together, drinking their coffee. That night, the battalion moved up towards the firing line to a place called Railway Wood and there went into reserve positions.