After five days of this kind of work in the neighbourhood of Le Sars, our battalion received orders to enter Bapaume, which had fallen the day before and which could be seen in the distance burning vigorously in conjunction with several other large villages. We moved off along the Bapaume Road at 9 o’clock in the morning and followed in a long procession of supply waggons, motor lorries, cavalry, artillery and infantry, until at last we had cleared the low lying mud belt which had been our curse for the past nine months, and emerged in the more open and less shell-holed country on the other side of Ligny. The further we marched, the higher our spirits rose at the prospect of leaving the mud and slush behind us and of entering the great goal of our months of fighting and hardship, Bapaume, which as we approached seemed to be burning ever more fiercely.
The town of Bapaume had been held up as the immediate objective ever since the first shot was fired at the opening of the battle of the Somme in July 1916 and for the past nine months it was the idea of some day entering Bapaume that had buoyed the troops up through the privations they endured during the terrible winter of 1916. Now the Australians had driven the Germans from the town to positions well beyond and at last we were to crown our efforts of the previous months by entering the place in triumph. As we approached the town on this 20th March, 1917, we were surprised to see the wonderful strength of the fortifications which the Germans had abandoned.
On the outskirts of the town were line upon line of heavy barbed wire entanglements, built of barbed wire as thick as a pencil, upon iron piquets, protecting the trench systems through which it would have been a very costly undertaking to advance. Strong points and redoubts dotted the ground at every point of vantage and I am certain that if we had been called on to take the town of Bapaume by assault, it would have been weeks before it was captured and would have entailed the sacrifice of thousands of lives in the process.
However, the Germans had been obliged to abandon the area and there we were taking possession without a fight worth mentioning. Entering the town from the south west side by the Bapaume-Albert road, what a sight met our eyes. The town was still smouldering and had been razed to the ground partly owing to the shell fire and partly owing to the fact that before evacuating the place the Germans had systematically dynamited the fronts of all the houses and had tarred the wood work in order to make it burn freely. Every vestige of portable furniture had been removed into Germany and the rooms were as bare as boards. Rubbish of the shattered houses was strewn to a depth of two feet or so in the roadway making it impossible for vehicles to go through the town, and over all was a thick pall of smoke from the burning ruins.
Every cross road in the town had been mined and blown up, making huge gaping holes 10 ft. deep and 30 ft. across, making the roads completely impassable. We were immediately set to work on removing the rubbish and mud etc. from the roads and in generally clearing a track for the transport to pass. Before many hours had passed, we had cleared and repaired a road right through the town which was soon choked with long lines of transport passing through laden with material for the advanced troops who were still chasing the retreating Germans about 7 kilometres further on. Next day, we were employed in cleaning out the few remaining houses which were considered safe enough to house troops and in clearing the cellars for a like purpose.
On the third day our battalion was employed in digging trenches and strongpoints for the defence of Bapaume should the Germans turn the tables on our army and drive us back. Then we changed our billets from an old home we had been occupying and No. 10 platoon took over the tunnel under the Town Hall. This tunnel was quite 30 ft. under the surface and had been fitted up by the Germans with bunks. Although it was pitch dark below, and a trifle stuffy, yet we managed to make ourselves comfortable during the time we occupied it. During the past two days, we discovered many delayed action mines and in fact one had been removed from behind a fire place in the Town Hall.
On the fourth day, we were employed in building stables for the stabling of the transport horses, and whilst engaged on this work, two of our men were crushed by a falling wall as they were endeavouring to extricate a beam of timber from the ruins of a house. Whilst engaged in clearing up the rubbish amongst the ruins we often came across interesting little things. On one occasion, we were fossicking about the ruins of the Cathedral and came across an opening between the fallen masonry. Working our way through the gap, we descended into a vault in which there was a heap of some three or four hundred skulls. Where they came from I do not know, but they were supposed to be the skulls of the people executed during the French Revolution.
Another time the troops discovered a secret tunnel from the citadel running out towards Ligny-Thilloy, a distance of two miles which was used by the Germans as a kind of communication trench through which they conveyed the rations and supplies to the front line from Bapaume in order to escape the shell fire. At 10 am on the morning of 25th March, whilst waiting for orders to proceed on fatigue duty on the square opposite the Town Hall we witnessed one of the best air fights of the whole war.
Six British planes were cruising amongst the scattered clouds, engaged in spotting out the German lines, when suddenly they were attacked by five “Taubes.” In less time than it takes to tell, every plane was engaged with an opponent. The “Taubes” had the advantage of surprise and shot down two British planes in as many minutes. The remaining planes circled, banked, nose-dived, shot upward and performed every conceivable stunt in order to obtain an advantage over their opponent, loudly cheered by the troops on the ground, now and then firing a burst from their machine guns. Presently, one German plane was hit through the petrol tank and dived, fluttering to the ground in flames. Half way to the ground, two bodies fell out and hurtled, rolling over and over with arms outstretched until at last they hit the ground with a pulverising thud.
Presently, another plane, whether British or German we could not make out, suffered the same catastrophe. After circling round for some time, the remaining “Taubes” made their escape by flying into a bank of cloud and then doubling round in another direction leaving the British masters of the field.
On another occasion, a German plane, piloted by a German named the Duke Frederick Carl was flying low over our advanced line, when a private of the 26th battalion hit his plane with a lucky shot from a Lewis gun. The German plane therefore was forced to descend between the lines and in endeavouring to escape by flight into the German lines was shot through the back and was subsequently captured and taken to Rouen Hospital where he died later on.
After six days fatigue work in Bapaume during which we had practically cleared all that was required of the roads and billets, we received orders on the seventh evening to move up to the neighbourhood of the firing line to support the 27th Battalion in their attempt to capture Lagnicourt. We accordingly evacuated our billets under the town hall at a moments notice, much to our disgust, and set off along the road to Vaux in a drizzling rain. We had not gone more than 2 kilometres when we heard a low roar behind us as of something being exploded, and shortly afterwards were informed by a mounted runner on his way to the firing line, that the Town Hall which we had just evacuated had been blown up by a delayed action mine. It can easily be guess how thankful No.10 platoon felt at thus being saved by a stroke of providence from the fate of being buried alive under the ruins of a three storey building. We found out later that 29 people had been killed and wounded in the falling ruins, amongst whom were three French members of Parliament who were in Bapaume on a sight-seeing tour, nine men being killed.
After proceeding about four kilometres along the main highway, the trees along which had all been ruthlessly cut down for no apparent reason, we arrived at a sunken road on the outskirts of Vaux. We were supposed to occupy the houses still standing in the village, but owing to the way in which the Germans were shelling it at the time, we dug ourselves into the banks of the road, making little possies which we covered with sheets of iron and ruberoins (?) from the village itself. Here, we made ourselves as comfortable as possible in our scanty shelters, until the following night when the battalion was ordered to take over from the 27th Battalion in the front line. It had rained incessantly during the past 18 hours so that we literally paddled our way through the village of Vaux amidst the flying shells which burst on all sides with a resounding crash, and then proceeded up the shell holed road, as far as the Village of Lagnicourt. On the left of this village we relieved the 27th Battalion, taking over their outpost line in short trenches each of which held a platoon of men and which were dug on the crest of a hill amongst the stubble of a wheat field.
In the morning, we found that the village of Queant was in front of us and Lagnicourt was about a kilometre to our right whilst about a kilometre in front, Germans could be seen digging in on the slope of a ridge. The tempting target of groups of men only about 1,000 yards distant was too much for our Lewis gunner, Lance Corporal Chauncey, a big red headed man, who fired several magazines into the midst of the Hun working parties, making them scatter in all directions much to our amusement. After mid-day however, this burst of rashness on the part of our post had its result, as the Germans had located our post and commenced to systematically shell us with 5.9’s. The first shell fell a few yards in front, the second a few yards in rear. The third one we knew would not miss us by much and sure enough it burst with a terrific crash, right on our parapet in the centre of the trench, burying Harold Mitchell and four others, whom we very quickly extricated.
The Germans must have seen the result of their shelling as they thereupon ceased with their 5.9’s and confined themselves to shelling us with shells of smaller calibre all the remainder of the day. From this post we were within sight of the Hills of Cambrai and the much vaunted Hindenburg Line which ran through the village of Queant opposite our post. Later in the afternoon Lt. Tripp came to our post and ordered us to be in readiness to be relieved. Just before being relieved A company to our left repelled an attack on one of their posts by a Hun patrol, causing them many casualties.
At 10 pm we were relieved by the 50th Battalion and moved back via Vaux-Vraucourt to billets in Bapaume. Next day, we visited the scene of the explosion in the Town Hall and found it nothing but a heap of bricks and stones, which a battalion of Pioneers were working like slaves to remove in order to rescue the bodies of those who had been killed. The falling masonry had choked the entrance of the underground tunnel and several men had been rescued from it after 48 hours of being buried alive.
At midday, our battalion moved back for a spell, but with several others, I was detailed to a burial party to bury the bodies of the men, including Cpl. Ackhurst of C company, who had been killed in the explosion and forthwith proceeded to the cemetery of Bapaume under Sgt. Major Vince and helped bury three men of our battalion with military honours. The bodies stank dreadfully and I was heartily glad when “last post” was blown and the job was completed.
We then marched back over the desolate country past the Butte de Warlencourt and Martinpinch Wood until we at last arrived at Bazintine where we rejoined our battalion and slept the night. Next day, we proceeded to Manitz Nissen hut encampment, situated four miles from Albert where re remained for eight days. The surrounding battlefields between Albert and Bapaume presented a very different aspect then to what it did nine months before. Then it was nothing but a wilderness of shell torn ground, crisscrossed with lines of trenches and barbed wire and over which hordes of men were struggling from day to day supported by thousands of guns and innumerable supply waggons. Nine months ago, it was not safe to be where we were now, out for a rest.
At the end of March, the Somme battlefield had totally changed its appearance. The shell torn quagmire of ground had become drained and covered the scarred face of the ground, whilst most of the trenches were half choked with vegetation of all descriptions. Salvaging parties had collected material from the abandoned trenches using portable trench tramways to assist them so that there was now a network of tram lines in every direction.
Nissen hut encampments spread over the country in blocks as far as the eye could see. Splendid metal roads had been built in place of the shell holed tracks, and were now crowded with motor and horse transport, which hurried supplies from the base at Albert to the forward areas ahead of Bapaume. Water mains had been laid so that water points supplying good water for men and horses were inaugurated at frequent intervals along all the main roads. All the railway lines had been repaired and now supply trains hurried across the ghastliness of the battle field as far as Bapaume, Nine months of industrious effort on the part of the British Engineers had wrought miracles amongst the havoc of the Somme battlefield and the area represented a very business-like appearance as compared with the earlier days of July and August.
The scene of action was now 35 kilometres further on representing the results of that colossal struggle amongst the undulating country and the quagmires of the low lying country which had turned the district into a battle scarred wilderness from a smiling countryside.