CHAPTER XIII
THE BEGINNING OF THE GREATER PUSH
"HAIG has occupied Bapaume and Péronne, encountering littleopposition."
Such was the news that greeted second-lieutenant Ralph Setley ondisembarking at Boulogne. Bapaume and Péronne--places that formonths and months had been practically within sight of the Britishtrenches, and yet seemed as far remote as Peru. Miles and miles ofdeep concrete reinforced earthworks, hundreds of machine-guns, acresof formidable barbed wire, and the pick of the Kaiser's legions, hadbeen in front of those two towns; and yet the Huns hadgone--retreated.
"A voluntary retirement, according to our plans." Ralph smiled whenhe read the mendacious German official report. Can any saneindividual imagine a voluntary retirement in these circumstances.After two years of hard work, fortifying and defending those deep-dugtrenches, would any belligerent voluntarily abandon ground gained andmaintained at such a cost of blood and treasure?
At a certain place, well behind the lines, Ralph was put through ahurried yet comprehensive "course" in Tank work. In company with halfa dozen other young subalterns, he was under instruction from morningto night, with only brief intervals for meals. It would be difficultto find a squad more eager to grasp the intricacies of their futurecommands. They were, one and all, as "keen as mustard." Technical andpractical work, intermixed with lectures on motors, machine-guns andquickfirers, hints on strategy and tactics, map-reading anddynamics--all were drummed into the active brains of theprobationers, regardless of the adage, "A little knowledge is adangerous thing."
"Dangerous for the Boches, let's hope," remarked Danvers, a youngsecond-lieutenant recently transferred from the Air Service, owing toa wound that rendered him unfit to fly, although his capacity inother directions was unimpaired. He had chummed up with Setley, andthe two got on admirably. In private life Danvers had been a civilengineer, until the call of the sword took him from the plane-tableand theodolite to the sterner profession of war.
"I want to impress upon you fellows," said the major--who acted asinstructor--"that you must not run away with the idea that landshipsare invulnerable."
The class nodded their heads sagely. Considering most of them hadseen derelict Tanks--in many cases showing huge rents in theirarmoured sides, caused by the impact of heavy shells--thisannouncement seemed superfluous.
"However useful the Tanks have been and are," continued the major,"they have their limitations. They are not perfect. Perfection meansfinality--and the end is not yet. Landships are a means to an end,nothing more. So don't run away with the idea that you can doanything when in charge of a Tank. It will do a lot. As an adjunct toan infantry attack it is most efficient. When first brought intoaction landships scored heavily, owing to their novelcharacteristics. The Huns have now found certain means to countertheir offensive, and these means must in turn be negatived. So in theattack exercise discretion until you are astride the enemy trenches.Then you can go for all you're worth. Self-sacrifice is commendablein certain circumstances, but little is gained if you blunder into apitfall through sheer impetuosity."
Instructor No. 2 adopted a different line.
"Tanks attacking in company," he declared, "should advance straightfor their objective and at their maximum speed. Preferably theformation should be _en échelon_; then, should the leading landshipbe 'bogged,' the others will have a chance to avoid the pitfall."
Then came the actual practice. Across ground gradually increasing indifficulty the instruction Tanks were taken, first with a qualifiedhand in charge of each and then with one of the new hands in command.At the end of a few days Ralph was "passed out" as being competent totake a landship into action.
It took two days to bring his command up to the Front. Too heavy andunwieldy to be conveyed by rail the landship squadron lumberedtowards the Arras sector, in company with hundreds of guns of allcalibres, enormous lorries crammed with shells, and transport of alldescriptions laden with munitions and food. Dense columns of marchinginfantry, regiments in motor waggons, individual units, were swarmingeverywhere, the Tommies marching with elastic gait and resolute mien,confident that once more the German arms were about to suffer defeat.
"It's Easter Day," observed Danvers, when the Tanks were "parked" forthe night and concealed from the prying eyes of a chance hostileairman--the Hun fliers were very chary of late of venturing over theBritish lines--by means of futurist-painted canvas. "Rummiest EasterI've ever spent. Wonder if the Huns use a similar form of service toours. Can you imagine the Germans making use of the words of theLitany: 'To have pity upon all prisoners and captives'?"
"From all accounts they are badly using our men who have had theill-luck to fall into their hands," said Setley. "A platoon of theChalkshires got cut off, I hear. The men are kept in the Germanreserve trenches."
"Yes," added another subaltern. "And our fellows are mad about it.The Huns will feel sorry for themselves when the infantry go over thetop and get to work with the bayonet. Hullo! the great strafe iscommencing."
The artillery fire, constant for the last twenty-four hours, wasincreasing in violence. The guns of all sizes, from the gianttwelve-inch to the fifteen-pounders, were belching forth their hailof devastating projectiles upon the enemy trenches. Vainly the Germanguns attempted to reply. Literally pulverized by an immenselysuperior weight of metal, their efforts were hardly of consequence.
"Does a fellow good to see that," observed a grey-haired major, as hewatched the incessant glare of the shells bursting in the Huntrenches. "We're top-dog now. I remembered at Ypres we were batteredfor a week or more and hardly able to reply. Now the boot is on theother foot, and, you fellows, wait till the morning. We've a nicelittle surprise for Fritz."
There was no sleep that night for the officers and men of the Tanks.All inclination to rest was dispelled by the stupendous violence ofthe bombardment. The night was rendered as light as day by theincessant flashes, the din was indescribable, while the earthtrembled with the crash of the guns.
Rapidly the "dump" diminished, but as fast as the reserve of stackedshells was exhausted more were brought up. The dragon's teeth ofancient Greek mythology were not in it: the projectiles at thedisposal of the hardworked but enthusiastic gunners were greater innumber as the hours sped. Thanks to the splendid organization of themunition workers at home, the artillery was not in danger of beingstarved.
"There won't be any work left for us to do," remarked Danvers. "TheGerman trenches must be flattened out by this time."
"You'll soon see," rejoined a lieutenant, consulting his watch. "It'snow close on five. The infantry go over the top at the half-hour.Hullo! here's the C.O. It's about time we started."
Already the men had stripped the canvas coverings from the massivemobile fortresses. The roar of the exhausts almost drowned thethunder of the guns. The air reeked with petrol vapour, mingled withthe acrid, pungent fumes from the cordite charges from the nearestbatteries.
"All correct, sir," replied Ralph's sergeant, as the subalternscrambled through the narrow armoured door in the afterside of thesponson and gained the complicated interior of the Tank.
Setley gave the word and the mammoth ambled off, fifty yards in thewake of another Tank, three others following at regular intervals. Itwas still night. Dawn was close at hand, but any indications of thebreak of day were concealed by the huge clouds of smoke that hung inimpenetrable curtains over the German lines. It was snowing. Frozenflakes were whirling through the smoke-laden air. In places theground was covered to a depth of four or five inches, althougheverywhere the pure white mantle was rapidly churned into brownishslush by the constant movement of vehicles and men.
Half-past five. To the second the British guns lifted, raining theirhail of projectiles on the hostile support trenches and putting upsuch a tremendous barrage that no living thing could endure in thatsector of bursting shells. To those of the high explosive type wereadded others of a terrible but totally different character. Fritz wasbeing paid back in his own coin and with compound int
erest. Oft-timesthe cultured Huns had made use of liquid fire--a hideous barbaricmeans of attack. Retaliations had been reluctantly decided upon bythe British authorities. At last the time-honoured maxim, "an eye foran eye, a tooth for a tooth," was being put into force.
Splendid in their terrible work, the liquid fire shells burst withadmirable precision over the crowded reserve trenches. Unable toretreat owing to the barrage, reluctant to face the bombs andbayonets of the British infantry as they kept pace with the liftingartillery fire, the Germans were trapped.
Almost without meeting any resistance the Tommies swarmed over thehostile trenches, and soon a steady, ever-increasing stream ofprisoners--men dazed with the horror of the bombardment, hungry,dirty, and devoid of spirit--set in towards the advance cages.
"We're out of it this trip," thought Ralph. "There's nothing for theTanks to do. By Jove, there is, though! A viper's nest wantsflattening out."