The Brotherhood of Arms

Excerpts:

. . . Harvey, however, who was very quick and far-seeing, had his orders so prepared that, in case of a retirement being necessary, it could be effected with the minimum of difficulty either by day or night. Eventually the Germans attacked in considerable force and drove in our line, which was in reality no more than an outpost line. That evening they were in occupation of the chateau, and it was galling to listen to the strains of a German band playing to the new occupants; no doubt our patriot was liberated and once more free to dispense hospitality and the wine for which we had so conscientiously paid. Unfortunately, we had neither the guns nor shells to break up the festive gathering. Long before the end of the war the White Chateau, so well known as a landmark in that area of the salient, was levelled to the ground, and, needless to say, the Kaiser never came within miles of it.

Soon after this an Indian battalion, recruited from the north-west of India, was sent up to support us. They were magnificent-looking men, but, having only just arrived in France, knew nothing of modern continental war, nor could they speak any language but their own. The battalion was in action and two young soldiers were bringing up ammunition. We noticed them stop and watch German high-explosive shells bursting in the air. They were not going to take that lying down at any rate. Cool and unperturbed, they loaded and proceeded to fire on any shells which happened to burst in their neighbourhood. After this "retour offensif" they continued on their original mission.

It was soon after this that my horse, the same who had desecrated the cricket pitch at Netheravon, became involved in an "interesting experience". We were holding the line, not as yet continuous, near the village of Wulverghem. The old horse came up with me, and during the night was stabled in a cowshed with only the lower half of the door shut. It so happened that his lifelong companion, a mare, had been left behind. The old horse, after eating his feed, must have realised her absence and appeared uneasy . . .
 

 

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Apart from any casualties incurred, there arises a sort of reflected glory, mixed with indignation. Even the headquarters' cook feels himself a hero, and inevitably it affords food for thought and conversation. It is a matter to be considered with due deference and reported accurately in the daily communiqué. I well remember on one such occasion, when, as a brigade-major, returning from a walk round our trenches and in ignorance of the severe ordeal through which my brigadier and the rest of the staff had passed, I tactlessly remarked on entering the dugout, still thick with the fumes of smoke : "By jove, that bally cook (at that moment a hero) has burnt the toast again!" The justifiable indignation of the inmates was intense. "Toast, indeed!" "Toast be damned!" Such callous indifference to the seriousness of the situation was unpardonable. The brigadier, a charming person and very old friend, thoroughly appreciated the humour of the situation as the air became cooler and clearer.

It seems hard to believe now, but when we first took up trench life we laboured under the belief that it was merely for a very temporary period. The cavalry then had no cookers, which did not help matters. Trench feet, from the cold and wet, caught us unprepared. Now it has become a crime to contract it. I must say proper treatment was forthcoming very quickly, but as a victim I know how painful it is.

On coming out of the line my brigadier was asked to open a new theatre at a well-known town in the area in which we were billeted. This necessitated making a speech in French, which was made no easier by the fact that his French was very limited, to say the most for it; moreover, his time was fully occupied with more pressing matters.
 

 

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the merits of each hound with the same enthusiasm as we did when we hunted together for several years in the Midlands. The only complaint that I can remember came from a crotchety old lady, who asserted that our hounds were eating her pheasants. But she was well known for making herself unpleasant on all possible occasions, and was probably quite unconscious of the insult to our well-disciplined pack.

One winter we had a grande battue amongst the pheasants in a well-known forest in Northern France near La Motte aux Bois, where General Allenby (the late Field-Marshal Lord Allenby, G.C.B., G.C.M.G.) had his headquarters in the chateau of the Baronne La Grange. It was excellently organised by a relation of mine, Basil Brooke, ioth Hussars. Birds were plentiful; it was only the supply of cartridges that was limited. It later transpired that the shoot belonged to a syndicate in Lille, who under the circumstances could hardly shoot their preserves from the other side of the line. However, it was rumoured that they were preparing a claim against promiscuous sportsmen. The blow was ingeniously averted by prevailing on General Allenby to take part in a small shoot of the same coverts. Under the circumstances the threatened prosecution failed to materialise.

When hunting was vetoed, the problem arose as how best to dispose of the pack. Fortune was with us. Our brigadier's step-daughter was about to be married to an officer at home, wounded. What could be nicer than four and a half couple of beagles presented by his step-father-in-law? Besides, it is seldom you can pick up something really suitable for nothing. So home again went the merry beagles. It must, however, have turned out an expensive present—the four and a half couple had to undergo six months' quarantine.
 

 

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The attack was really an admirable bluff. Unfortunately, one squadron received a false interpretation of the above order and understood it had been ordered to retire. It was not inexcusable for the officer to accept this ruling, as by that time his squadron had been reduced to himself, his sergeant-major and half a dozen men. Consequently he proceeded to crawl back through the wood, when occurred a most entertaining incident.

Jack Seely, mounted on his horse, was up in front on a ride at right angles to the general advance, or, in this case, to the line of retirement of this little party. The officer, making his way back through the thick scrub on hands and knees, pushed his head out from the undergrowth and looked to right and left along the ride. Suddenly he was confronted by General Seely, revolver in hand, who, espying what he believed to be a solitary soldier possibly deserting his post, first inquired : "Are you wounded?" On receiving the answer "No," he called out, "Go back, then— go on back," accompanying this command by a menacing gesture with his revolver.

Obviously dumbfounded at this reception, the head cautiously withdrew, tortoise-like, back to cover.

After a pause the officer made a second attempt, the red face emerging at a slightly different point. Again he was spotted by the general, who promptly returned to the assault, now obviously confirmed in his original belief that he was dealing with a renegade. This time the unfortunate officer did not await the impact, but beat a hurried retreat. After a considerable time had elapsed, he discovered to his consternation that the general, now obviously suspicious of his movements and keenly on the alert, was apparently remaining on the ride to ensure that he made no further attempt at escape. He was contemplating a third essay, this time with a flag of truce, when General Seely, evidently concluding that the miscreant had thought better of his actions, continued down the ride towards his Canadians on the left. The harassed officer was then enabled to emerge . . .
 

 

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After the capture of Rifle Wood we were withdrawn and made up with reinforcements from the Leicestershire Yeomanry, who were broken up for this purpose. They proved themselves excellent officers and men, remaining with us till the end of the war. One whom I took as a servant had previously been driving a tram in Leicester. I have always intended to patronise the Leicester trams in the hope of renewing our friendship.

Subsequent German attacks were repelled in this area after we left, when the Australians distinguished themselves at Villers Brettoneux, and struck up a great friendship with the 12th Lancers, who were fighting there with them.

Yet another grave crisis on the Western Front was averted. In spite of this immense onslaught by the enemy, his attempt to split the French and British forces was frustrated, the attack exhausting itself against the defence, although it gained a considerable amount of ground. During those fateful days the lack of available reserves rendered the situation extremely critical. So long as the defence remains intact with reserves disposed for counterattack, flanks of a bulge are vulnerable and a well timed counter-stroke may retrieve the initial reverse.

A tribute is due to the quality of our horses, not only in these latter operations but throughout the war, for they never let us down. Of the Canadians who charged at Moreuil, not only the men, but the horses also, were brave beyond belief. The man has the urge of patriotism to inspire him to acts of gallantry, but the horse is subservient to the will of his master. Unfaltering and loyal, he shares his fate. This comradeship in arms is an epic of war, and there is no doubt that the horse's endurance on long and continuous marches, at times over sodden, heavy-going ground, pock-marked with shell holes, has conserved the energy of his rider and brought him fresh into action. At other times the knowledge that his horse would instantly answer the call with all his speed and momentum has reinforced the initial inspiration of the rider. The era of the horse in war is receding, but it can truly be claimed that one of the most highly strung and intelligent of all animals has not failed to play its part nobly. At the same time, all of us who have had the good fortune to be associated with horses, and realise the debt of gratitude we owe them, will be happy in the knowledge that they will be spared the horrors of war. Nevertheless, there is little doubt that in some theatres of war and under certain conditions no other motive power will entirely take their place. In the main, they have passed on their traditions and battle honours to the mechanised arm.

The fact of America entering the war came to us as a double reassurance of victory. The moral effect was immense, with a corresponding but opposite effect on our opponents. Now that the latter were able to withdraw large forces from their Eastern Front it was realised that they would make their supreme effort before American troops could come into the field, and our General Staff had predicted accurately the time and place of the 19x8 spring offensive.

I only once came into contact with American troops in France. They were certainly magnificent men, and madly keen to get into action, when they quickly proved their valour.

I wish it had been possible for us to have been in closer contact with them over a reasonable period of time to establish the personal contact that in war eliminates possible misunderstandings and cements lifelong friendships. After the war I happened to be in charge of our team of mounted competitors at the Olympic Games held in Paris, when we struck up an immediate friendship with the American officers.