How Lance Corporal Albert Joynson, Of The 1^st Battalion Northumberland

Fusiliers Won The D.C.M. At Hooge 

             The midsummer campaign of 1915in the West was, if we except the German Crown Prince’s offensive movement in the Argonne, confined to small local attacks and counter attacks.  But, though the loss or gain of ground was, in most instances, of trifling importance, these small affairs were frequently characterized by desperate fighting, which afforded not a few opportunities for individual distinction.  Of such a kind was the British attack on the enemy’s position south of Hooge on the morning of June 16^th, in which Lance Corporal Albert Joynson, of the 1^st Northumberland Fusiliers, won the Distinguished Conduct Medal.

            Ythe “Fighting Fifth” had marched from Vlamatinghe the previous evening, in the highest spirits, singing all the latest songs as they swung along, and reached our trenches about midnight.  Our artillery preparation was timed to start at 2.15 a.m., but the German artillery forestalled it by a few minutes and gave our men an unpleasantly warm time of it.  However the British shelling was still more effective, and in two hours the enemy’s entanglements had been absolutely blown away.  Then came the order, “Over you go!”  And over the parapet of the assembly trench went our brave fellows, and made a dash for the German first line trenches, which were not fifty yards away.  On the left of the assailants were among the enemy with the bayonet almost before the astonished Huns knew that a charge was being made; but, on the right, where our men had to pass through a little nullah, the attack was held up by the fire of a machine gun hidden in a tree and worked by a man who was chained to the gun, which had been trained so as to sweep the nullah.  Finally, the British artillery blew Hun and gun right out of the tree, but not before they had done a great deal of mischief.

            Lance-corporal Joynson, who was on the right of the attack, was one of the few men to get across while the machine gun was still in action, though he did not come through altogether scathes, as one of its bullets chipped a piece of flesh from his right thumb and carried away part of the stock of his rifle, without, however, damaging the barrel.  Having bandaged up his thumb, Joynson crept round the machine gun traverse into a German first line trench, which the enemy had prudently evacuated.  Here he met an officer looking about for bomb throwers, and went with him on an exploring expedition up communication trenches, where one of the Liverpool Scottish-a Territorial battalion which greatly distinguished itself that day-told them that he and a few of his comrades had captured part of a trench, but that they wanted bombers to drive the Germans out of the rest of it, which was still in their hands.  On being shown where the Germans, Joynson readily undertook to move them on, and proceeded to bomb them s effectively that they retreated in disorder to the extremity if the trench.  The Fusilier pursued them for some distance down the trench, which was strewn with an assortment of cigars, lemons, chocolates and other dainties, and then returned and built a barricade to keep them at a distance, which he did until 2 p.m., when the Germans got reinforcements, and he and his comrades were obliged to retire in their turn.  They then went and lay down in the open behind the next line of trenches, where Joynson was smoking tranquilly, when some of the Royal Irish Rifles came to ask for bomb throwers.  He and another man went and rendered them very effective assistance, and remained in that line of trenches until about midnight, when one of the officers of the R.I.R.s came and asked Joynsonhow many men he had with him.  On being told fourteen, he said these ought to be sufficient to hold the trench until they were relieved by the 1^st Royal Scots Fusiliers in three hours time, and that he therefore intended to withdraw his own men.  Joynson thought this a very risky proceeding, but he said nothing, fearing to dishearten his men, and though very heavily shelled the little band held they’re ground gallantly until dawn, when relief arrived.  Joynson was hit by a piece of shrapnel in the right shoulder, but the wound, happily, was not a serious one.

How Sergeant Alfred Bull, of the 2^nd Battalion East Surrey Regiment,

Won The D.C.M. At Stanbroek Molen 

             The action at Stanbrock Molen, on March 12^th 1915, was only one of the subsidiary operations in the great battle of Neuve Chapelle.  Nevertheless, it produced some fierce and sanguinary fighting, and afforded not a few opportunities for individual distinction.  One of these fell to the share of Sergeant Alfred Bull, of the 2^nd East Surreys, who found himself with seven men, all that were left of five officers and eighty-five men, isolated in a trench, parts of which had been demolished by shell fire, within thirty yards of those of the enemy.  It was a situation to test the courage and endurance of the boldest, and man would have accounted it no shame had the little band surrendered.  But no thought of yielding ever entered Bull’s head, and though the trench was choked with the dead bodies of their comrades, and though rifle and machine gun bullets came streaming through the gap in the broken parapet until there was not one of the defenders but could show a wound-the sergeant himself being wounded in the knee with grim determination they stood their ground, resolved to die, every man at his post.

            And their heroism was not in vain, for as dusk was falling, and they were momentarily expecting the enemy to rush the trench in overwhelming numbers and bayonet every one of the survivors, relief occurred, and the position which they had so bravely defended was saved.

How Gunner Arthur John Roberts, Of The Royal Garrison Artillery,

Won The D.C.M. At Cuinchy

              In the desperate fighting at Cuinchy at the end of January 1915, when the British, after being obliged temporarily to evacuate a portion of their first and second line trenches under pressure of overwhelming numbers, recovered them again by brilliant counter attacks, many a brave deed was performed; but there were few more deserving of being remembered than that which gained Gunner Arthur John Roberts, of the 1^st Siege Battery, Royal Garrison Artillery, the D.C.M.

            About 6 a.m. on the morning of January 25^th, Gunner Roberts received orders to proceed to the observation post of his battery-a house situated some four hundred yards in the rear of our first line trenches-in company with Lieutenant Mullaly and Corporal Murray, the former of whom was to act as observation officer, while the latter was to assist Roberts in working the telephone to the battery.  While on their way thither was to assist Roberts in working the telephone to the battery. While on their way thither, the enemy’s artillery opened a furious bombardment of our first line trenches, which were then occupied by the Coldstream Guards.  So terrific was the shellfire that in a very short time the wire entanglements had been swept away like matchwood and the parapet of the trench was crumbling to ruin, upon which the Germans followed up the bombardment by an infantry attack in great force, advancing in close formation.  The Coldstreams received them with a withering rifle and machine gun fire, beneath which they fell in heaps; but fresh battalions advanced to the assault, and so great was the enemy’s superiority in numbers that the guardsman were obliged to retire to our second line trench, which by 8.30 was also in possession of the Germans.  The success of the Huns, however, was of very short duration, for half an hour later they were driven back in confusion to their original position by a brilliant counter attack delivered by the London Scottish and the Black Watch, who bayoneted them by hundreds.

           About eight o’clock, at the time the British were retiring to their second line trenches, Lieutenant Mullaly was engaged in observing the effect of our artillery fire, and Corporal Murray an gunner Roberts in transmitting his corrections by telephone to the battery, when a wounded corporal of the Coldstream guards limped into the house, with two bullets in his right thigh and two in the muscles of his left arm.  Roberts suggested that they should take him down to the cellar and dress his hurts; but the guardsman pluckily told them not to trouble about him, as there was one of his comrades lying about one hundred yards away, on the railway embankment, who was in far worse case than himself, having a broken leg and a bullet in the abdomen.  And he begged them to try and bring him in.  Gunner Roberts readily promised to make the attempt, and, leaving the house through a hole in which a shell had made in one of the walls, reached the railway under cover of a building opposite, and caught sight of the wounded man about eighty yards away, trying to crawl towards a ditch which ran parallel with the line.  Stooping as low as he could to avoid the bullets which continually whistled by him, Gunner Roberts ran along the embankment, reached the man and knelt down by his side.  Meanwhile, Lieutenant Mullaly had followed him, and he came up a few seconds later.  The Coldstreamer advised them to go back and leave him to his fate, or they would certainly be killed; but the brave men refused to listen to him, and making a seat of their clasped hands and placing his arms around their necks, they carried him back to the house, dressed his wound, and put his leg in splints, after which he was conveyed to the nearest Field Ambulance.  On their way from the railway embankment to the house, which except for that last twenty yards was across open ground, Lieutenant Mullaly and Gunner Roberts were obliged to run the gauntlet of a very heavy rifle fire; but happily neither of them was hit, although later in the day the lieutenant was wounded by a piece of shell.  He, however, pluckily remained at the observation post until relieved that night.

            The rescue of the wounded Guardsman was not the only gallant action which Gunner Roberts performed that day as subsequently, on hearing that the telephone wire to his battery had been damaged, he volunteered to go out and repair it, and successfully accomplished this task under heavy shellfire. 

            Gunner Roberts was awarded the D.C.M., “for conspicuous gallantry,” while Lieutenant Mullaly received the Military Cross.

How Second Lieutenant Benjamin Handley Geary, Of The 4^th Battalion

East Surrey Regiment (Attached 1^st Battalion) Won The V.C. At Hill 60 

            In the early summer of 1914, a traveller on the Ypres-Lille Railway might have noticed, about three miles southeast of the former town, a slope some two hundred and fifty yards long by two hundred deep.  This slope is Hill 60, which before many months had passed was to become so famous that no future visitor to the battlefields of Flanders will ever consider his tour complete until he visited it.

            At the beginning of the third week in April 1915, Hill 60, which had more than once changed hands since the beginning of the previous autumn, was in German occupation, and it possession was of great importance to the enemy, since it afforded them excellent artillery observation towards the west and northwest.  If, on the other hand, the British could retrieve to capture it, it would give them a gun position from which the whole German front in the neighbourhood of Hollebeke Chateau would be commanded.  Our men fully appreciated this fact and had been carefully mining the ground, and the evening of Saturday, April 17^th, were the time selected for the mines to be fired and the Hill captured.

            At 7 p.m. on the day in question a more tranquil spot than Hill 60 could not have been found along the whole length of the Western front; a few second later it was like a volcano in eruption, seven mines being exploded simultaneously, and a trench line and about one hundred and fifty Huns blown into the air.  The explosions were the signal for every British gun in the vicinity to come into action, and rapid fire to be opened all along our trenches.  “It was,” writes one who present, “like one contentious roar of thunder, while the rifle fire sounded like hail on the slates, only much louder.”  Under cover of the bombardment, the 2^nd King’s Own Scottish Borderers and the 1^st West Kent’s dashed up the hill, won the top, entrenched themselves in three huge craters made by the explosions, and brought up machine guns.  During the night they were heavily shelled and had to sustain several determined counter attacks, which were repulsed, after fierce hand-to-hand fighting; but in early morning of the 18^th the Germans advanced in great force, and though mown down in heaps by our machine guns, succeeded, by sheer weight on numbers, in forcing back the troops holding the right of the hill to the reverse slope, where however, they hung on throughout the day.

            On the evening of the 18^th, the Borderers and the West Kent’s were relieved by the other two battalions, the 2^nd West Ridings and the 2^nd Yorkshire Light Infantry, who again stormed the hill under cover of heavy artillery fire, and drove the enemy off at the point of the bayonet.

            The following morning another fierce attack was launched against the British, with the aid of artillery and asphyxiating bombs.  It was repulsed, but during the greater part of the 19^th and 20^th our men were subjected to a tremendous bombardment from three sides.  During the night of the 18^th-19^th two companies of the 1^st Surreys, from the 14^th Brigade, were brought up from their billets at Ypres, and took over a part of the support trenches.  About 5 p.m. on the 19^th, the enemy started shelling them, but seemed unable to find the range, and were, after a time, silenced by the British guns.  The east Surreys spent the night in improving the communication trenches and endeavouring to extend their own trench, in the course of which one of their officers, Captain Huth, was killed.  Next morning the Germans started shelling them heavily again, and continued the bombardment for several hours.  This time they managed to get the range and the adjutant of the battalion was blown to pieces by a shell, while the parapet of the trench was breached in several places.  Upon the gaps thus made in their defences the enemy directed an incessant rifle and machine gun fire, which rendered the task of filling them up a most hazardous operation.

            Towards five o’clock in the afternoon, the Germans resumed their bombardment, and the officer in command of the East Surreys, Major Patterson, was mortally wounded.  The enemy’s shellfire cut the telephone wires between the trench and our batteries in the rear, with the result that the British guns were unable to make any effective reply.  Presently a messenger arrived with a request for reinforcements, and Second-Lieutenant Benjamin Handley Geary assembled his platoon and led them up the Hill. 

            The communication trenches had been so badly knocked about that it was impossible to make use of them, but Lieutenant Geary and his men succeeded in reaching the left crater, which was being held by a handful of the 1^st Bedford’s, who greeted their arrival with loud cheers.  The young officer placed his men around the inside of the rim of the crater, and there they hung on for the next few hours.  All the ground about them was being fiercely shelled, but the enemy seemed unable to put their shells inside the crater itself.  However, their trenches were only a little distance away, and they kept up an almost continuous shower of hand grenades from which our men suffered severely, and gradually the crater became so full of dead and wounded that the ground was almost invisible.  The Germans also had a machine gun trained on the only way by which reinforcements could come up, and though repeated attempts were made by the East Surreys and the Bedford’s to send support to their hard pressed comrades, comparatively few men succeeded in getting through, while practically everyone of the officers who led them was shot down, so that at one tie Second-Lieutenant Geary was the only unwounded officer on the Hill.

            Meanwhile darkness was coming up, and our men were in complete ignorance of how matters were going with their comrades on there right and left.  All the ground in rear was now swept by shellfire that it was impossible for reinforcements to reach them, and it looked as though they must be completely cut off.  No order had reached Lieutenant Geary, and he was obliged to act on his own responsibility.

            Presently the Germans began to advance up their old communication trenches, one of which led to the left crater.  They were obliged, however, to advance in single file, and Lieutenant Geary, aided by a private named White, who loaded his rifles for him, shot down man after man, until at last the Huns had had enough and prudently abandoned the attempt.  But they succeeded in making their way up another communication trench, leading to the right of the middle crater, and began firing into the backs of our men on the left.

            Thinking it advisable to make an attempt to ascertain what was happening on either side of him, Lieutenant Geary despatched a corporal and a couple of men to try and get into touch with the officer in command of a trench on the left of the Hill.  But none of them returned having probably been killed on the way.  He himself, at great personal risk, hurried across to the trench on the right, and, reaching it in safety, found that our men were still holding on to the greater part of the trench, though the Germans had succeeded in occupying the extreme left of it.  There were two officers remaining in the trench, one of his own battalion and one of the Bedford’s.  They, like himself, had received no orders; but, after discussing the situation, the three officers decided that it was their duty to hang on as long as possible and not to think of abandoning the Hill, so long as there remained any chance of reinforcements reaching them.

            On his way back to the left crater, Lieutenant Geary met a Major Lee, an officer of another battalion, bringing up a detachment, wit orders to drive the enemy out of the part of the trench which they had captured; and this officer told the lieutenant to get together what men he could and, on seeing two or three flre lights go up, to lead them across the middle crater and attack the Germans on the right, while he himself attacked on the left.  Lieutenant Geary rejoined his men and directed some of them to dig a trench in the rear of and commanding the middle crater.  While they were engaged on this work, which was carried out under a heavy fire, a German flare light went up and afforded the young officer an excellent view of the portion of the trench which the Germans had captured.  Observing that on the side nearest to him the parapet of the trench had been destroyed by shellfire as to afford the occupants very little protection, he directed a man to load for him, and began potting away at the Huns with considerable effect.  Then, ordering the man who had been loading for him to continue firing in his place, he went away and posted another man in a position, which would enable him to fire into the communication trench down which the enemy would have to retire.

            As he was returning, he found some of the Queen Victoria Rifles-a Territorial battalion which greatly distinguished itself and suffered cruel losses on that terrible night-carrying up ammunition, but uncertain as to the whereabouts of their comrades.  He directed them and then went to the left crater, where he found his men holding on most gallantly, but in sore need of ammunition.  Meanwhile, he had been expecting to see the flares go up-the signal for him to lead his men across the middle crater to attack the Germans in conjunction with Major Lee-but, as none appeared, he went to find that officer, and learned that the enemy had already evacuated the portion of the trench they had captured and had retired to their communication trench.

            From this, however, they were keeping up a storm of grenades, which would make it very difficult for us to hold the trench, which they had abandoned.  Going back again to the left crater, he found his men so reduced in numbers and so short of ammunition that he saw that, unless they were speedily reinforced, they would be obliged to withdraw from the crater and dig themselves in behind it.  He was on his way to inform Major Lee of the necessity of doing this without delay, as the day was now beginning to break, when he was severely wounded by a bullet in the head, an injury which put him out of action and subsequently deprived him of the sight of an eye.  His men, however, succeeded in holding the crater which they had so gallantly defended until relief arrived.

            Second Lieutenant Geary was awarded the Victoria Cross “for most conspicuous bravery and determination at Hill 60,” the Gazette adding that the attacks upon the crater were repulsed “mainly owing to the splendid personal gallantry and example of Second-Lieutenant Geary,” who “exposed himself with entire disregard to danger.”

            Some five months previously to gaining the Victoria Cross at Hill 60, this most gallant young officer had given an earnest of the wonderful courage and sang-froid, which characterized his actions upon that occasion.  He volunteered for a scouting expedition to reconnoitre the German trenches, which were about one hundred and thirty yards from our own lines.  Flattened to earth, he crawled forward by slow stages, and succeeded in reaching the enemy’s parapet and, looking over it, perceived a mackintosh supported by a detached bayonet.  Without a moment’s hesitation, Lieutenant Geary seized this bayonet and succeeded in bringing back the trophy to his own battalion.  After possessing himself of the bayonet, he had intended to enter the trench itself, but as he was still leaning over the parapet to satisfy himself with regard to its formation, a figure suddenly appeared round the corner of the trench not a dozen yards away, upon which Lieutenant Geary ducked down and wriggled back to the British lines with all possible expedition.

How Sergeant Bernard Charles Shea, Of The Royal Berkshire

Regiment, Won The D.C.M. At rouges Bancs 

            In fulfilment of a promise which he had made to General Joffre to support an attack which our Allies intended to make on May 9^th 1915, between the right of the British line and Arras, Sir John French directed Sir Douglas Haig to carry out on that date an attack on the German trenches in the neighbourhood of Rouges Bancs (northwest of Fromelles) by the 4^th corps, and between Neuve Chapelle and Givenchy by the 1^st and Indian Corps.  The bombardment of the German position at Rouges Bancs began at 5 a.m., and continued for half an hour when it momentarily ceased.  This was the signal for the infantry of the 8^th Division of the 4^th corps to advance, and immediately the Rifle Brigade, who were to lead the attack, climbed over the parapet of our first line trenches and began to cross the hundred yards of open ground which separated them from those of the enemy.

            Withering artillery, machine gun and rifle fire was poured into the advancing “Greenjackets.”  The enemy had our men practically on three sides, for the position was much stronger than had been anticipated, with numerous fortified posts on the flanks, in which machine guns had been mounted.  To the Berkshires, who were to follow them, it seemed as though every second man went down before even our own wire entanglements were reached; but, undismayed by the fate of the Riflemen, they, in their turn, plunged into that terrible vortex of fire.  And with them went a young Cornishman, Sergeant Bernard Charles Shea.

            When the time came for Shea’s platoon to advance, the officer in command, Lieutenant Druitt, pipe in mouth, coolly gave the order, and he and Shea clambered over the parapet together and paused for a moment on reaching the further side to glance along their line of men.  The lieutenant looked at the sergeant with a humorous smile on his lips.  “Isn’t it a fine -----?” he was beginning, when he suddenly broke off, pressed his hand to his chest, and dropped like a stone.  Almost at the same moment another bullet knocked Shea’s rifle out of his hand.

            There was not time to attend to the lieutenant; indeed, one glance was sufficient to tell Shea that the unfortunate young officer had already passed beyond the reach of human aid, and hurrying forward he had already covered half the distance between the opposing trenches, when he felt a stinging pain in the groin, followed by what seemed like a terrible blow in the back.  He stumbled on to his knees, then, recovering his feet, pushed on for a short distance; but about thirty yards from the German lines he collapsed.  A bullet had entered the abdomen and passing downwards, had shattered the right hip bone and come out at the back, near the right side.  For a while he lay there, writhing and plucking up handfuls of grass in his agony.  Then he began to glance about him, and observing that what were left of his platoon had stopped and lain down to avoid the hail of bullets, he forgot the pain of his wound and ordered them sternly to advance.  They obeyed and left him.  All about him the ground was strewn with the dead and wounded-some mutilated beyond recognition.  Not a few of the less severely hurt were trying to crawl back to our own trenches; but not one succeeded, for their movements only served to draw fire, and they were invariably hit again, and, in many cases, their hope of life extinguished for ever.

           Shea soon began to fee terribly thirsty.  He could not get at his own water bottle, but he dragged himself to the side of one of his dead comrades and drank from his.  His thirst quenched, he had a great longing for tobacco, and, fortunately, this was easily satisfied, as he had plenty of cigarettes in his pocket.  Soon he felt better and managed to sit up and watch the progress of the fight, which seemed to be going badly for the British.  Platoons of our men continued to leave our trenches and endeavour to make their way across the bullet swept zone; but it appeared to him as if there out of every five fell.  The majority came to grief in clambering over our own parapet, which was now subjected to a veritable inferno of shellfire from the German batteries.  The sergeant did his best to cheer the survivors on, beckoning and shouting to them to keep running forward, that being the safest course.  One of his company officers came on at the head of some of his men, but when he was a couple of paces from where Shea lay, something struck him and he pitched forward almost on to his head.  For a few moments he lay quite still, and Shea thought that he was dead.  Then, to his astonishment, he saw him begin to crawl forward on all fours.  In the evening, as Shea was lying in our own trenches, waiting to be taken to a dressing station, this officer passed by, and told him that he had been shot through both hands.  

How Lieutenant C. A. Phillips, Of The ¼^th Battalion, Welsh Regiment,

Won The Military Cross At Silva Bay, Gallipoli 

            The first week of August 1915, witnessed the beginning of a great offensive movement by our troops in Gallipoli.  This movement involved four separate actions, the most important of which were the advance of the left of the Anzac Corps against the heights of Kija Chemen and the seaward ridges, and a new landing on a large scale at Suvla Bay.  If the Anafarta hills could be won, and the right of the new landing force linked up with the left of the Australasian, the British would hold the central crest of the spine of upland which runs through the western end of the Peninsula, and, with it, so commanding a position that, with any reasonable good fortune, the reduction of the European defences of the Narrows would only be a matter of time.

            The force destined for Suvla Bay was for the most part the New Ninth corps, under the command of Lieutenant-General Sir F. W. Stopford.  It consisted of two divisions of the New Army-the 10^th (Irish), under Major-General Sir Bryan Mahon, less one brigade; the 11^th (Northern), under Major-Genera Hamersley; and two Territorial divisions, the 53^rd and 54^th.

            The night of August 6^th-7^th was the time chosen for the landing, which was carried out with complete success, for during the day a pretence of disembarkation at Karachali, at the head of the Gulf of Saros, and attacks upon the Turkish positions at Cape Helles and Lone Pine had diverted the enemy’s attention to the extreme ends of their front, and they had no inkling of our plan.  By two o’clock in the afternoon of the 7^th, the 10^th and 11^th Divisions had disembarked, deployed into the plain and held a line east of the Salt Lake. 

            So far the operation had been conducted with perfect success, but it was necessary to push on resolutely if we were to benefit by the surprise.  And this, unfortunately, was not done, for though some further ground was won that night, little if any progress was made on the following day, which was spent in sporadic to advance, in which we lost heavily.  For this there were various causes.  In the first place, the mobility and invisibility of the enemy, cleverly concealed amid the scrub, had created the impression that we were confronted with a force many times greater than was actually the case.  In the second, the scene of combat presented extraordinary difficulties to a body of perfectly green troops, who had never been in action, and were fighting under a tropical heat and suffering torments from thirst.  And, finally there appears to have been a lamentable lack of purpose and resolution in their leadership.  By the 9^th, on which a gallant but unsuccessful attempt was made to carry the main Anfarta ridge, our chance had almost gone, for the Turkish defence was already thickening; by the morrow large reinforcements had reached the enemy, and it had vanished entirely.

            On that day the 53^rd Territorial Division, under, was repulsed.  The next few days were devoted to consolidating our front, some ground being won on the 12^th by the 163^rd Brigade (from the 54^th Territorial Division), which had arrived on the previous day, on our left centre, in difficult and wooded country.  It was here that a very mysterious incident occurred.  Colonel Sir H. Beauchamp, of the 1/5^th Norfolk’s, with sixteen officers and two hundred and fifty men, who included part of a fine company enlisted from the King’s Sandringham estates, kept pushing on far in advance of the rest of the brigade, driving the enemy before him.  Nothing more was ever seen or heard of any of them.  “They charged into the forest and were lost to sight and sound,” wrote Sir Ian Hamilton; “not one of them ever came back!”

            The work of consolidating our line was carried out under exceptional difficulties, for the nature of the soil did not permit of deep trenches dug, and the Turks, whose numbers were steadily rising, kept up a heavy and continuous artillery, machine gun and rifle fire from cleverly concealed positions amid the scrub and woods.  In the shallow trenches occupied by the 1/4^th Welsh, in the 53^rd Territorial Division, which faced a wood held in considerable force by the enemy, the men were obliged to keep so still that even the dead and wounded could not be moved.  For it was almost certain death to raise the head or any portion of the body above the parapet, and, on one occasion, a corporal who, in reaching out a hand for a cigarette, had exposed the top of his head was instantly shot through the brain.  In such circumstances, the gallant deed, which we shall now relate, was worthy of the highest admiration.

            On the 14^th Lieutenant C. A. Philips, who was in charge of the machine gun section of the 1/4^th Welsh, perceived a wounded officer of the 1/7^th Essex, Captain Shenston, lying about seventy yards from the trench.  Despite the appalling risk they ran, he and Staff sergeant Grundy, of his battalion, immediately went to his assistance and succeeded in bringing him safely into the trench.  But these two brave Welshmen did not rest content with this single act of heroism, for in front of the trench lay others of their comrades, sore wounded and appealing piteously for water to slake their raging thirst.  So, scarcely had they found themselves in safety, when they jeopardized their lives again, and going forth, returned with another stricken man.  A third, and yet a fourth time, did lieutenant and sergeant run that terrible gauntlet of fire to succour the wounded, and on each occasion, marvellous to relate, they came through it unscathed, with the soldier whom they had gone to save.

How Second Lieutenant Cecil Frederick Holcombe Calvert, Of The 3^rd

Battalion, South Staffordshire Regiment, Attached 179^th Company,

Royal Engineers, was Recommended For The D.S.O.

            Second Lieutenant Cecil Frederick Holcombe Calvert, of the 3rd South Staffords, who was then attached to the 179th Company, Royal Engineers, serving with the 51st Division, performed a most splendid action, combining conspicuous gallantry with determination and resourcefulness, on September 6th 1915.  A heavy bombardment by the enemy had caused one of the mining shafts to fall in killing two men and burying two others in one of the galleries.  Second Lieutenant Calvert, who was in charge of this isolated post, at once went to the assistance of the important men, and as, owing to the close proximity of the enemy, the noise made by the use of tools would have invited certain death, he worked for three hours under heavy fire, scraping away the earth with his hands until he had made a hole large enough to rescue them.  For this brave deed the young officer was recommended for the Distinguished Service Order, but, unhappily, he never lived to receive this coveted decoration, as eight days later (September 14^th) he lost his life in a most gallant attempt to rescue a man who had been overcome by gas.

            The poisonous fumes caused by the explosion of a German mine in the vicinity had overtaken the man in a mining gallery before he could effect his escape, and, although an attempt at rescue was fraught with terrible risk, Second Lieutenant Calvert, without a moment’s hesitation, went to his assistance.  Before, however, he could accomplish his task he was overcome by the gas, and although he was brought out of the shaft and treated at once by the medical officer on the spot, he was already too far-gone to rally the seizure, and died without regaining consciousness.  He was buried in the extension reserved for British officers in the Cemetery of Albert, in the Department of the Somme.

            Second Lieutenant Calvert was the eldest son of Mr. Albert Frederick Calvert, the well-known traveller and author, who received many letters of sympathy from brother officers, expressing the high estimation in which his son was held.

            His commanding officer wrote: “I feel sure it will comfort you to know that he died as he had lived, a victim to his high souled sense of duty.  The Army can ill afford to lose such men.  Although he had only lately joined the 179^th Tunnelling Company, he had already made his mark, and we shall deeply feel his loss.”

How Acting-Corporal Cecil Reginald Noble And Company Sergeant Major

Harry Daniels, Of The 2^nd Battalion Rifle Brigade (Prince Consort’s Own)

Won The V.C. At Neuve Chapelle. 

             There has been more cruel spectacle in the present war than that of dauntless courage baffled and rendered impotent by mechanical contrivances; of brave men advancing to the assault of the enemy’s position in the full confidence of victory, suddenly held up by the barbed wired entanglements which they had fondly imagined would have been completely swept away by their own artillery preparation, and while thus checked, exposed to a murderous fire from their entrenched foes.  For, however heavy and long continued the bombardment preceding an attack may have been, there will always be places here and there in the defences where the high explosive shells have failed to do their work, and where the wire entanglements still hold firm; and cruel, indeed, is the fate of the regiment which finds itself obliged to cut away through such an obstacle while rifle and machine gun plays upon it at close range.  If it escapes practical annihilation, it will be more than fortune.

            From such a fate was the 2^nd Battalion of the Rifle Brigade saved, on March 12^th 1915, at the battle of Neuve Chapelle, by the heroism and devotion of two of its non-commissioned officers.  When the “Green Jackets” approached that section of the second line German trenches, which they had been ordered to take, they saw, to their consternation, that the wire entanglements protecting them were still practically intact, and that to force them would entail the most appalling loss.

             It was at this most critical moment that Acting-Corporal Noble and Company Sergeant Major Daniels resolved to sacrifice themselves for their comrades.  While the others threw themselves on the ground to take what cover they might from the withering fire beneath which they were falling fast, the two heroes ran towards the entanglements and began to cut away at them like men possessed.  Well they knew that they were courting almost certain death; that already a hundred rifles and half a score of machine guns were trained upon them.  But they wrecked not of that; one thought alone possessed their minds: to make a way for their comrades before they were shot down.  And they succeeded; for though both speedily fell dangerously wounded, it was not before great lengths of the barbed wire had been cut through and the path to victory stood open.  With resounding cheers, the Riflemen rushed through the breach in the entanglements like a living tide; the bayonet soon did its deadly work, and the trenches were won.

            Both of these gallant men were awarded the V.C. “for most conspicuous bravery”; but it is sad to relate that Corporal Noble never lived to receive the coveted distinction which he had so richly merited, as he died of his wounds shortly after the action.  Sergeant-Major Daniels happily recovered, though it was not until towards the middle of May that he was finally discharged from hospital.

How Private Charles Ball, Of The 2^nd Battalion Coldstream Guards,

Won The D.C.M. Near Zonnebeke 

            A particularly daring and successful piece of work-a duty, which demands great courage, coolness and resourcefulness from those who undertake, it-was performed by Charles Ball, a young private of the 2^nd Battalion Coldstream Guards, at the end of October 1914, near Zonnebeke.

            About nine o’clock on the morning of October 26^th, Private Ball and one of his comrades left the British trenches, with the object of penetrating the German lines and picking up what information they could in regard to the disposition and movements of the enemy’s forces.  After proceeding for some little distance, most of the way on all fours, they entered a field, in which lay about a score of dead and wounded Germans.  Some of the latter appealed to them piteously for water, and the two Guardsmen therefore decided that Ball should remain where he was, and that the other should go back to our lines to obtain water and to inquire what they were to do with the wounded.  He returned in about half an hour, with orders that they were to leave them to some other men and endeavour to reach a farm on the other side of the field, which was occupied by the enemy.  They accordingly set off again, but as they were wriggling their way along the further hedge, they caught sight of a German sniper also crawling along it and coming in their direction, though apparently unaware of their presence.  As they had orders not to shoot unless forced to do so, they concealed themselves in the ditch, which ran parallel with the hedge, behind a bush that had been torn from its roots by a shell and had fallen across it.  There they lay expecting the sniper to pass them by, when they intended to surprise and make a prisoner of him, which would spare them the necessity of giving the alarm by shooting him.  But when he was within ten paces of them, he suddenly turned to go back, and Private Hall, recognizing that it would be impossible for them to proceed further until the fellow was disposed of, decided to take the risk.  He therefore fired and dropped the German stone dead.

            As the farm for which the Guardsman had been making was only some thirty yards distant, and they feared that the rifle shot might bring its occupants down upon them, they continued to lie low for another half hour.  They then crawled out of the ditch and made their way, still on all fours, through some unoccupied German trenches to a spot a little distance beyond whence they had a clear view of a distant hill, on the summit of which was a windmill.  From the number of troops which they saw pass this windmill; they concluded that German reinforcements must be stationed behind the hill.  Ball sent his comrade back to the British lines with a message to that effect.  But the latter had not been gone long, when he came back, with the alarming information that there retreat was cut off, as the Germans had come out of the farm and manned the unoccupied trenches which they had just passed. 

            They both crawled back as near to the trenches as they could without being seen, determined to sell their lives dearly rather than be made prisoners.  To their surprise, however, they saw that the enemy were moving along the trenches, so they lay still for an hour and a half, in momentary fear of being discovered and shot before they could show fight.

            After the Germans had passed along the trenches, the Guardsman crawled through them and hid them in the friendly ditch again, and, believing that they were now comparatively safe, they began to crawl as fast as they could along it.  Suddenly, from the other side of the hedge, a rifle shot rang out, and, peering cautiously through, they saw six Germans engaged in watching the distant British trenches.  They accordingly lay low, Ball keeping an eye on the six Germans in front, while his comrade watched the farmhouse, to guard against any surprise from that quarter.  About half an hour passed thus, when Ball saw the German sharpshooters turn and begin to crawl towards the hedge, with the evident intention of coming through it into the ditch in which the Guardsman lay.  The latter waited until the Huns were within twenty paces of them, and then, each picking his man, fired and shot him dead.  Again the Coldstreams rifles cracked, and again two of the astonished enemy fell, while the survivors sprang to their feet and made off as fast as they could.  A well-aimed bullet brought one of them down, but the other succeeded in getting away.

             Ball and his comrade recognized that they had not a moment to lose if they wished to effect their own escape, as the surviving Hun would, of course, give the alarm, even if the shots they had fired had not already done so.  They had to crawl along the ditch for a hundred yards and then to cross two ploughed fields and the wire entanglements-a sufficiently formidable undertaking with the enemy on the alert.  But the brave lads courage did not fail them, and, on reaching the end of the ditch, they jumped up and made a dash across the fields and over the entanglements.  Before they had covered many yards of open ground they were seen by Germans, who did not forget to let them know it.  However, through bullets hummed incessantly past their heads, neither of them was hit, and they reached the British lines in safety, and reported what the enemy were doing and where their reinforcements were being drawn from.

            It was clear, from the information they brought back, that an attack was intended, and sure enough, at three o’clock that afternoon-the two Guardsmen had returned about an hour earlier the German guns began to rain high explosive shells upon our trenches in such profusion that that day will always be known to the men for whose benefit these unpleasant looking projectiles were intended as “coal box Friday.”  After the artillery preparation, the Huns attacked in great force; but the French coming to our support, they were driven back with terrible loss.  That night Private Ball’s battalion was transferred to Ypres, and in the woods in the vicinity of that town the enterprising young guardsman experienced several further adventures when on patrol work.  During the battle of Ypres he was wounded in no less than ten places, but, happily none of his wounds was very serious, and after being invalided home for a time, he was able to return to duty. 

            “For his conspicuous good work on patrol duty on October 26^th,” Private Ball was awarded the D.C.M., and, subsequently, the Russian Order of St. George (Third Class) was conferred upon him by the Czar.

How Private Charles Gudgeon, Of The 1^st Battalion Northamptonshire

Regiment, Won the D.C.M. At Ypres 

            Although the First battle of Ypres is generally regarded as having terminated with the failure of the attack of the Prussian Guard on Gheluvelt on November 11^th 1914, spasmodic attacks still continued, and on November 12^th, and the two following days, the position occupied by the 2^nd Brigade, of which the 1^st Northampton’s formed part, was so heavily bombarded that telephonic communication was almost entirely suspended.  As it was, of course imperative for Brigade Headquarters to keep in touch with the troops in the firing line, messages had to be sent by hand; and on the evening of the 14^th, Charles Gudgeon, who was acting Headquarters orderly for his battalion, was despatched with one of them.

            Gudgeon’s nearest way to our first line trenches lay through a wood, on the edge of which stood the house, which served as Brigade Headquarters.  But the Germans were so persistently shelling this wood that he considered it more prudent to skirt it, though this would entail a journey of more than a mile.  For half this distance he would be in comparative safety, but after that he would come under the observation of the enemy, and the last two of three hundred yards would be very dangerous indeed, owing to the risks of shellfire and the activities of the enemy’s snipers.

            Gudgeon travelled at an ordinary pace until he reached a house which marked the beginning of the danger zone; then, crouching low, he made a dash for the cover afforded by some machine gun emplacements about three hundred yards away.  There he paused for a few moments before embarking his next dash, to a ruined house about one hundred and fifty yards distant.  This was a very hazardous undertaking, as it was hereabouts that the snipers had brought down many an unfortunate British soldier, while the ground was dotted with shell holes, among which he had to pick his way, thus rendering rapid progress difficult.  However, he got safely across, through more than one bullet hummed past his head and took refuge behind the ruined house to prepare for his last dash of one hundred yards to the firing line, the most dangerous part of the whole journey, as the ground was swept by both shell and rifle fire.  But he accomplished it in safety and delivered his message.  He had then to make the return journey and undergo the same nerve racking experience over again; but this, too, he accomplished without mishap.

How Captain Charles Herbert Mansfield Sturges OF The Royal

Garrison Artillery Won The D.S.O. 

              In the early months of war the Germans in the matter of heavy guns hopelessly out matched the British Artillery, while as is well known our supply of shells was most lamentably inadequate.  Happily, the disparity has now been to some extent removed, and since the beginning of the spring campaign of 1915 in the West our siege batteries have rendered most admirable service; indeed one of the sights of the terrific artillery preparation at Neuve Chapelle was that of the shells fired from our great howitzers rising to the altitude of a lofty mountain before descending on the doomed German trenches.

            The splendid results attained here and in many other engagements have been of course, largely due to the courage and ability shown by the officers at the observation stations, who have repeatedly carried out their difficult duties in places exposed to a terrible fire with a coolness and intrepidity beyond all praise.  Of these few have performed more admirable service than Captain Charles Herbert Mansfield Sturges, of the 1^st Siege Battery, Royal Garrison Artillery, who was awarded the Distinguished Service Order “for conspicuous gallantry and general good work as an observing officer through out the campaign, notably during the attack at Givenchy, on March 19^th 1915, the attack at the Rue du Bois, on May 9^th and the attacks on May 15^th and 16^th.”  The fighting at the Rue du Bois on May 15^th ad 16^th formed part of the fierce engagement known as the Battle of Festubert, and Captain Sturges had some unpleasantly exciting experiences.  Our artillery preparation began late on the night of the 15^th, assisted by three groups of French 75 man guns and continued without intermission until just after dawn, when the infantry advanced to the attack.  Captain Sturges had taken up his post in one of a row of ruined houses just east of the road, and about three hundred yards behind our first line trenches, which were within one hundred yards of those of the Germans.  But he soon was shelled out of it.  He repaired to another, with the same result, and finally entered a third which had already suffered so severely from the enemy’s fire that only a portion of the outer walls were left standing.  The house on its left was merely a heap of tangled masonry.  By means of a ladder he mounted to the level of what had once been the roof, and, with his field glasses to his eyes, proceeded to observe the results of his battery’s fire and to shout his instructions to the telephone operators below, who for with communicated them to the gunners.  Presently a shell burst within a few yards of him, and, though he was not hit, such was force of the concussion that he was blown down the ladder.  Picking himself up, he calmly mounted to his dangerous post again and continued to observe and correct his battery’s work until our bombardment ceased.

How Major Charles Allix Lavington Yate, Of The 2^nd Battalion, The King’s

Own (Yorkshire Light Infantry), Won The V.C. At Le Cateau 

            It may be said, quite fairly that the world has rarely seen an army of such high rank as that which shouldered the burden of Great Britain during the first six months of the war in Flanders and Northern France.  Though the army was small in numbers, the men held inviolable the heritage of their race, great courage and tenacity of purpose.  These qualities alone, however, would not have sufficed in view of the tremendous odds to which the men were opposed.  Added to a superb morale was physical fitness.  To maintain the latter athletics had been widely encouraged in the army amongst both officers and rank and file.  Further, the methods of training the infantry followed the theory of fighting in open order, and aimed at making each man an individual fighter, who was to depend on himself in the battle line.  With so much of first-rate importance combined in the making of each soldier, it is small wonder that the army, which crossed to France in August 1914, should have proved so redoubtable a fighting force.  The most conspicuous act of bravery for which Major Charles Allix Lavington Yate, of the 2^nd Battalion, the King’s Own (Yorkshire Light Infantry) was awarded the V.C. recalls in its dramatic circumstances the heroic defence of Thermopylae, where Leonidas, the Spartan king, with three hundred of his men opposed the Persian army of Xerxes.

How Lieutenant Cyril Gordon Martin, D.S.O., Held The Enemy Back For

Two And A Half Hours And Won The V.C. 

            At 7.30 on the morning of March 10^th 1915, the battle of Neutve Chapelle began with perhaps the most terrific artillery preparation in the history of modern warfare, and by the evening of that day the village was ours, and on a front of three miles we had advanced more than a mile.  But our ultimate objective-the driving of a great wedge into the enemy’s line by the capture of the ridge south of Aubers-still remained to be accomplished; and it was to this task, which was to prove, unfortunately, beyond the capacity of our troops, that the two following days were devoted.  Simultaneously a number of movements were undertaken all along the British front, with the object of preventing any sudden massing of reinforcements, and it was during one of these attacks that upon the German position at spanbroek Molen-that a young officer of the 56^th Field Company Royal Engineers, Lieutenant Cyril Gordon Martin, performed the gallant action that gained him the Victoria Cross. 

            Lieutenant Martin had already won the Distinguished Service Order, by his gallantry in the first weeks of the war, during the retreat from Mons, when, at the head of his platoon, he had captured a German trench and held it until reinforcements arrived.  On this occasion he was twice wounded, and invalided home for some months; indeed, he had only recently returned to the front.

How Rifleman Daniel Shee, Of The King’s Own Rifle

Corps Won the D.C.M. At St. Eloi 

            Fifteen miles north of Neuve Chapelle, on the southern ridge of Ypres, stands the village of St. Eloi.

            Here in the late afternoon of March 14^th-15^th 1915, the Germans opened a terrific bombardment, which played havoc with the defences to the southeast of the village.  A most determined infantry attacked followed, which forced our men out of the first line trenches.

             There was, however, no intention on our part to allow the enemy to remain in even temporary possession of what he had won, and as soon as darkness fell a counter attack was organised.  It was delivered very early in the morning of the 15^th, by the 82^nd Brigade, with the 80^th Brigade in support, and resulted in the recovery of all the lost ground, which was of material importance.

             I the counter attack our men displayed the greatest gallantry, a notable instance of this being the dashing piece of work which gained Rifleman Daniel Shee, of the King’s Own Rifle Corps, the Distinguished Conduct Medal.

            On the night of the 14^th-15^th the K.R.R.’s were in reserve, when the order came for them to advance and retake four trenches just east of the St. Eloi-Oostevern road, which had been captured by the enemy.

            It was a pitch-dark night and raining in torrents, and all the surrounding country was a sea of liquid mud, into which in places the men sank up to their knees.  As they approached the German position our artillery shelled it vigorously, lighting it up with the glare of bursting shrapnel.  The K.R.R.’s were ordered to attack the two easterly trenches, in conjunction with the Cornwalls, while the Royal Irish Fusiliers, with the assistance of half of the company to which Rifleman Shee was attached, were to advance against the other two.  The K.R.R.’s attack began, when our men, emerging from an old disused trench situated about sixty yards from the German lines, splashed bravely through the mire, and in a few minutes had carried three of the lost trenches.

How Sergeant David Brunton, Of The 19^th Hussars, Won The D.C.M. At Le Bizet 

             On the morning of October 15^th 1914, our 3^rd Corps, under General Pulteney, who had detrained at St. Omer on the 11^th and advanced as far as Bailleul, driving the enemy before them, were ordered to make good the line of the Lys from Armentieres to Sailly, and, in the face of considerable opposition and very foggy weather, they succeeded in doing this, the 6^th Division at Sailly-Bec St. Maur and the 4^th Division at Nieppe.

            At this time B Squadron of the 19^th Hussars was divisional Cavalry to the 4^th Division, and about one hour after noon on the 16^th, while at Romarin, Sergeant Bruntons troop officer, Lieutenant Murray, received orders to proceed to the village of Le Bizet and reconnoitre it.  He accordingly set off at the head of a patrol consisting of Sergeant Brunton, another sergeant named Emerson, and six men, and at about 2 p.m. arrived on the outskirts of the village.  The officer and Brunton proceeded to examine the place through their glasses, and the sergeant reported two of the enemy outside a house.  This showed that the village must be in possession of the Germans though in what strength had yet to be ascertained.

             The patrol then galloped in open order to a little in some five hundred yards up the road, where they got under cover, without dismounting.  Leaving Brunton here in charge of the patrol, Lieutenant Murray, accompanied by sergeant Emerson and a private named Groom, galloped across a field to the entrance of the village, where he dismounted, and, giving his horse to Private Groom, walked into the roadway.

             At once several rifle shots rang out from houses on his right, and he officer was seen to fall.  Emerson and Groom rode back at full speed to where their comrades were posted and reported what had occurred, upon which sergeant Brunton sent Emerson to Romarin to inform their squadron commander, and, with the rest of the patrol, galloped towards the village and, dismounting, called for a volunteer to help him.  A private named Jerome offered himself, and dismounted with his rifle; and Brunton having sent the rest of the patrol with the led horses to the inn, he and Jerome crawled towards the wounded officer in the roadway.

             As they raised him up, they came under a heavy rifle fire at almost point Blanc range, and were obliged to let the lieutenant go and rush for cover.  Happily, neither of them was hit, most of the bullets whistling harmlessly over their heads, and, after waiting a little while, they made a second attempt; and, though again exposed to a hot fire, succeeded in dragging Lieutenant Murray under cover.  Then they found, to their sorrow, that they have risked their lives to no purpose, as the unfortunate officer was quite dead.  He appeared to have been wounded in three places, in the head, the left hand, and the region of the heart.  Since they could do nothing more for him, they decided to leave him and endeavour to reach their horses; and, stooping low, they doubled across some ploughed fields towards the place where the rest of the patrol was waiting.  The distance they had to traverse was about four hundred yards, and the ground absolutely devoid of cover; but though they were heavily fired upon, not only from the rear, but also from some brickfields occupied by the Germans on their left, they succeeded in getting back safely.  By this time the squadron had arrived from Romarin, and on their approach, the enemy, who seemed to have numbered about eighty, evacuated the village and retreated.

How Lance-Corporal David Finlay, Of The 2^nd Battalion The Black Watch,

Royal Highlanders, Won The Victoria Cross Near The Rue Du Bois 

            On Sunday May 9^th 1915, the French began their great attack on the German position between La Targette and Carency, the advance of the infantry being preceded by the most terrific bombardment yet seen in Western Europe, which simply ate up the countryside for miles.  On the same day, chiefly as an auxiliary to the effort of our Allies in the Artois, the British took the offensive in the Festubert area; the section selected that between Festubert and Bois Grenier.  The 8^th Division, on our left, advanced from Rouges Bancs, on the upper course of the River des Layes, towards Fromelles and the northern part of the Aubers Ridge; while, on our right part of the 1^st corps and the Indian Corps advanced from the Rue du Bois, south of Neuve Chapelle, towards the Bois du Biez.

             The 8^th Division captured the first line of German trenches about Rouges Bancs, and some detachments carried sections of their second and even third line.  But the violence of the enemy’s machine gunfire from fortified posts on the flanks rendered the captured trenches untenable, and practically all the ground the valour of our men had won had to be abandoned.

            South of Neuve Chapelle, the First Corps and the Indian corps met with no greater success, though they displayed the utmost gallantry in the face of a most murderous fire, and many acts of signal heroism were performed, notably that which gained Lance-Corporal David Finlay, of the 2^nd Black Watch the Victoria Cross.

             The Bareilly Brigade, of which the 2^nd Black Watch formed part, attacked early in the afternoon; but while our artillery preparation was still in progress.  Lance-Corporal Finlay advanced at the head of a bombing party of ten men; with the object of getting as near the enemy’s trenches as they could under cover of the bombardment.  It was a desperate enterprise, for the German parapet bristled with machine guns, and each one of the parties knew that his chance of returning in safety was slight indeed.

             About fifteen or twenty yards fro our trenches, which were separated by some one hundred and fifty yards from the German, was a ditch full of water, ten to twelve feet wide and between four and five feet deep, spanned by three bridges.  The party had got as far as the ditch before the enemy realized that they were advancing, when a fierce rifle machine gun fire was at once opened upon them, and eight out of Finlay’s ten men were put out of action, as all made for one of the bridges.  Two were shot dead while crossing the bridge, and the others killed or wounded immediately upon reaching the other side.

            Undismayed by the fate of their comrades, Finlay and the two survivors rushed on, and had covered about eighty yards, when a shell just behind Finlay.  He was uninjured, but so violent was the concussion that it knocked him flat on his back, and he lost consciousness for some ten minutes.  When he recovered his senses, he saw one of his two men lying on the ground about five paces to his left, and, crawling to him, he found that he had been wounded in two places.  He opened his field dressing and bandaged him up, and then, quite regardless of his own safety, half carried and half dragged him back to the British trench. 

How Captain Douglas Reynolds And Drivers T. H. C. Drain And F. Luke,

Of The Royal Field Artillery, Won The Victoria Cross By

Saving a Gun At Le Cateau. 

            On the morning of the 24^th of August 1914, the retreat of the British from Mons began, and on the 26^th Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien fought his famous action at Le Cateau, which saved the left wing of the army from being enveloped and cut off.

             Smith-Dorrien had little time to entrench his position before the grey masses of the enemy’s infantry were seen advancing, supported by the fire of some six hundred guns, on a front of about twelve miles.  He had no reserves available, and could only strengthen a threatened part of his line by taking the risk of weakening another part of it.  Heavy, indeed, was our men’s task that day, and that of the artillery was the heaviest of all.  Opposed to four times their number of guns-and guns for the most part of much heavier calibre than their own-their losses in men and horses were appalling.  In one battery, towards the end of the fight, only a lieutenant and one gunner remained, still heroically contriving to keep a single gun in action.  The huge shells from the German field howitzers disabled several pieces, while the carriages of others were smashed to atoms.

            As the day wore on, Von Kluck began to use superior numbers in a great enveloping movement on both flanks, and between three and four o’clock in the afternoon the British received orders to retire.  Our artillery with the most splendid courage, but at a terrible cost covered the movement, and it was at this moment that the incident we are about to relate occurred.

              Captain Douglas Reynolds, of the 37^th Battery R.F.A., perceiving that the horses attached to several guns had all been killed or disabled, brought up two teams, driven by men who had volunteered their services, in a desperate attempt to save a couple of them.  Though exposed to very heavy shell and rifle fire-the advancing German infantry were scarcely a hundred yards distant-these brave men contrived to limber up two guns.  But the next moment one entire team was shot down, while Driver Gobley, the driver of the centre pair of the other team, fell dead from his saddle.  Captain Reynolds, however, rode alongside the unguided pair, and kept them in hand, with, Driver Luke driving the leaders and Driver Drain the wheelers; the gun was brought safely out of action.

How Private Duncan White And Other Men Of The 2^nd Battalion

Coldstream Guards Won The D.C.M. At Cuinchy 

            On February 1^st 1915, a fine piece of work was carried out by the 4^th (Guards) Brigade in the neighbourhood of Cuinchy, where fierce had been in progress for some days.  Very early in the morning the Germans made a determined attack in considerable force on some trenches near the La Bassee Canal, occupied by a party of the 2^nd Coldstreams, who were compelled to abandon them.  A counter attack by a company of the Irish Guards and half a company of the Coldstreams, delivered some three quarters of an hour later, failed to dislodge the enemy, owing to the withering enfilading fire which it encountered.  But about ten in the forenoon our artillery opened a heavy bombardment of the lost trenches, which is described by General Haking, by whose orders it was undertaken, as “splendid, the high explosive shells dropping in the exact spot with absolute precision.”

             This successful artillery preparation, which lasted for about ten minutes, was immediately followed by brilliant bayonet charge made by about fifty men of the 2^nd Coldstreams and thirty of the Irish Guards.  The Irish Guards attacked on the left, where barricades strengthened the enemy’s position; and it was here that Lance-Corporal Michael O’Leary performed that heroic feat of arms, which gained him the Victoria Cross and made his name a household word.  But the Coldstreams also had their heroes that day, and amongst them a young Yorkshire man. Private Duncan white, whose action, if necessarily overshadowed by that of O’Leary, was nevertheless, a most gallant one.

            Private White was one of a little party of bomb throwers who led the assault, and on Captain Leigh Bennett, who commanded the Coldstreams, giving the signal for the charge by dropping his handkerchief, he dashed to the front and, passing unscathed through the fierce rifle and machine gunfire which greeted the advancing Guardsmen, got within throwing distance and began to rain bombs on the Germans with astonishing rapidity and precision.  High above the parapet flew the rocket like missiles, twisting and travelling uncertainly through the air, until finally the force equilibrium supplied by the streamers of ribbon attached to their long sticks asserted itself, and they plunged straight as a plumb line down into the trench, exploding with a noise like a gigantic Chinese cracker and scattering its occupants in dismay.  So fast did he throw, and so deadly was his aim that the enemy, already badly shaken by our artillery preparation, were thrown into hopeless disorder; and the Guardsmen had no difficulty in rushing the trench, all the Germans in it being killed or made prisoners.  

             A party of the Royal Engineers with sandbags and wire, to make the captured trench defensible, had followed the attacking infantry.  Scarcely had they completed their task, when the German guns began to shell its new occupants very heavily; but our men held their ground, and subsequently succeeded in taking another German trench on the embankment of the canal and two machine guns.

How Captain Edward Kinder Bradbury, Sergeant David Nelson And Battery

Sergeant-Major George Thomas Dorrell, “L” Battery, Royal Horse

Artillery, Won The V.C. At Nery 

             Having discussed the situation with General Joffre, Sir John French renewed the retreat of his army on the afternoon of Saturday, August 29^th 1914.  To meet present circumstances the original plans of General Joffre had to be modified, and the British now moved towards the line of the river Aisne, from Soissons to Compiegne, and then in the direction of the Marne about Meaux.

            On the night of August 31^st the Bays and “L” Battery of the Royal Horse Artillery bivouacked in an open orchard on the west side of the village of Nery.  The village lies low in the midst of broken and hill country.  To the south and east the ground rises suddenly and very steeply, and on the heights Lieutenant Tailby, of the Hussars, was patrolling in the early morning of September 1^st.  A thick fog hung over the ground, and besides shutting out the view, it muffled every sound.  Nevertheless, he groped along, stopping every now and again to listen, but neither hearing the enemy nor seeing any signs of them.  Then, all of a sudden, a whole column of German cavalry loomed out of the fog. Lieutenant Tailby was seen, and turning his horse abruptly round, he galloped off to worn the brigade.  He had just time enough to dash in and raise the alarm, and then shot and shell began to fall upon the village.  About five o’clock the fog cleared, and away on the heights could be seen the six German regiments, dismounted, with their twelve guns.  The advantage in an engagement would be greatly on the side of the Germans, both as regards numbers and the position, which they held.  But the British gallantly resolved to fight.

            Three only of the battery’s guns could be brought into action, and these quickly opened fire.  After getting their horses into safety, the Bays, who were in the line of fire, joined in with rifles and machineguns. The three guns kept up their fire admits a storm of shot and shell, but the range was only four hundred yards, and two of them were quickly knocked out of action.  Captain Bradbury, who was in command, had a leg blown off by a shell, but with the utmost bravery he propped himself up and continued to direct the fire till he fell dead.  Both Lieutenant Campbell and Brigade-Major Cawley died beside him, the latter after bringing up orders from Headquarters.  Lieutenants Gifford and Mundy were both wounded, and then, amidst a storm of fire from field guns, maxims, and rifles, sergeant Major Dorrell took command.  He was supported by Sergeant Nelson, who, though severely wounded, refused to retire, and also by gunner Barbyshire and Driver Osborne.  While they kept the last gun in action, the 5^th Dragoon Guards worked round to the northeast, to make a diversion from that flank.  They succeeded to a certain extent, but colonel Ansell fell, shot through the head, at the very commencement.  Without reinforcements they could do no more than make a demonstration, and for a time the situation was doubtful.  But the 4^th Cavalry Brigade suddenly arrived on the scene.  Dismounting from their horses they at once joined up with the 5^th Dragoon Guards, and the combined regiments then poured a steady fire into the enemy’s flank.  Finding that their position was getting rather hot, the Germans attempted to man handle their guns out of action.  A steady fire, however, was poured into their flank by the cavalry, and the Bays, who had mounted a marine gun in a sugar factory to the west of the village, attacked them with a frontal fire.  This proved too much for them, and, abandoning eight guns and a maxim, they made off towards Verrines.  The engagement had now been in progress a little over an hour, but to cap the victory the 11^th Hussars sprang on to their horses and dashed off in pursuit.  Fifty horses and a number of prisoners were brought back, and the Germans casualties in killed and wounded proved to be considerable.

How Sergeant Edward John Clarke, Of The 15^th Hussars, Won The D.C.M.

At The Chateau Herentage 

            It was on Wednesday, November 11^th 1914, that the German legions made their supreme effort to break through the British line to Ypres.  As Napoleon had used his Guards for the final attack at Waterloo, so the Kaiser used his for the culminating stroke in the longest, bloodiest, and most desperate combat which the world has ever seen.  The 1^st and the 4^th Brigades of the Prussian Guards-thirteen battalions in all-were brought up from the Arras district and launched against Gheluvelt.  Stubbornly did the 1^st Division, upon which the brunt of the attack fell, oppose them; nevertheless, they succeeded in piercing our front at three points and in taking our first line of trenches.  But here their success ended, for when they tried to advance further, they were met by so withering a frontal and enfilading fire that they were obliged to abandon the attempt and to fall back sullenly to the trenches they had won, from most of which they were subsequently driven by a determined British counter attack.

             One of the most stirring moments episodes of that eventful day was the gallant defence of the Chateau Herentage, situated between three and four miles east of Ypres, near the Menin road, and about 150 yards behind our first line trenches, by Sergeant Clarke and a handful of men of the 15^th Hussars, in conjunction with thirty Turcos and their sergeant.

             On the previous evening Sergeant Clarke had received orders to take his troops up to the first line trenches, as escort to two machine guns belonging to the 15^th Hussars, which were going into action.  On reaching the Chateau Herentage, he was told by the officer in charge of the machine guns to leave his troop there and accompany him to the trenches; but after seeing the guns, which were attached to the West Ridings, placed ready for action, he returned to the chateau, with orders to defend it at all costs. 

            At the chateau Sergeant Clarke found thirty Turcos under a sergeant, and some more of these fierce warriors were stationed in dugouts to the left of the house.  Behind the chateau were some shallow trenches, unoccupied, and between them and the Menin Road the Brigade Headquarters.  There were no troops between the first line trenches and the Brigade Headquarters but the little garrison of the chateau and the Turcos in the dugouts.  

            Between five and six o’clock on the morning of the 11^th the Germans began a fierce bombardment of our first line trenches, and soon the shells were dropping close to the chateau.  About nine o’clock its occupants saw the Turcos leaving their dugouts and retiring, and at the same time the British first line falling back.

            Shortly afterwards, a strong force of Germans appeared in column on the edge of a wood about one hundred yards in front of the chateau, where they halted, and looked a though they intended to deploy and rush the house.  Clarke, who had stationed his men-twelve in number-at the loopholes on two floors of the chateau, at once ordered them to fire, which they did with considerable effect.  The enemy, evidently under the impression that the chateau was far more strongly defended than was actually the case, and unwilling to waste time in taking it by assault, thereupon began to advance across the front of the house, and obliquely, towards the Menin Road, passing-so great was their haste to reach their objective-within fifty yards of our men and being mercilessly enfiladed in the process.

             They had almost reached the Menin Road when the British supports came up, and drove them back in disorder through the grounds of the chateau, where they again suffered severely from the enfilading fire of the garrison, over one hundred of their dead being counted afterwards.  Before our broken first line was restored Clarke and his men had been cut off for two and a half hours, and, with the assistance of the remaining three troops of his squadron, they subsequently held the chateau for three days against very heavy shelling and machine gun fire.

How Private Edward Dwyer, Of The 1^st Battalion East Surrey

Regiment, Won The V.C. At Hill 60 

             About three miles to the southeast of Ypres and just east of the hamlet of Zwartelen, where our dismounted Household Cavalry made their decisive charge on the night of November 6^th 1914, lies an earth heap from the cutting of Ypres Lille railway, some 250 yards long by 200 yards deep, which is known to fame by the name of Hill 60.  Desperate, indeed was the fighting of which Hill 60 was the scene towards the end of April 1915. Its importance to the British consisted in the fact that it afforded an artillery position from which the whole front in the neighbourhood of the Hollebeke Chateau could be commanded, and we were determined to get possession of it.  Accordingly, bout seven o’clock in the evening of April 17^th we exploded seven mines on the hill, which played havoc with the defences, blowing up a trench line and 150 of the enemy with it, and enabled our men to win the top of the hill, where they entrenched themselves in shell craters and bought up machine guns.  Next day the enemy delivered a series of most determined counter attacks, which resulted in desperate fighting at close quarters.  But they were all repulsed, and by the evening the Germans had been driven from the slopes of the hill, and the Glacis was littered with their dead.

            However, the position was of far too much importance to the enemy for them to desist from their efforts to recover it, and during the next three days our troops had no respite.  All through the 19^th and 20^th they were subjected to a terrific bombardment from three sides, and lived through a veritable inferno; while on the evening of the latter day they were called upon to withstand another fierce infantry attack.  The 1^st East Surreys were terribly hard pressed, and Lieutenant George Roupell won the Victoria Cross, as described elsewhere, for the splendid courage and tenacity with which, though several times wounded, he held his post with the remnants of his company until he came.  But he was not the only member of his battalion to gain the crown of the British soldier’s ambition.

            A lad of nineteen, Private Edward Dwyer, who earlier in the day had displayed great gallantry in going out into the open, under heavy shellfire, to bandage the wounded, found himself alone in his trench, from which his comrades had been driven by a strong party of German bomb throwers.  The Germans were in a trench only some fifteen or twenty yards distant, so close that Dwyer could hear them talking; and the brave lad, aware that if they took his trench behind would be at their mercy, resolved to hazard his own life to save his comrades.  Collecting all the grenades he could find, he climbed on t the parapet of the trench and began throwing them at the Germans.  His appearance in this exposed position was, of course, the signal for a hail of bombs; but happily the Germans aim was bad, while his own throwing was most accurate and effective.  In fact, he succeeded, single handed, in keeping the enemy at bay until reinforcements arrived, and the trench he had so heroically defended was saved.

             Dwyer was wounded on April 27^th, and sent to the military hospital at Etretat, and it was not till nearly a month later that he learned that he had been awarded the Victoria Cross, “for most conspicuous bravery and devotion to duty.”  The King himself, at Buckingham Palace, on June 28th 1915, His Majesty shaking hands with him very cordially and complimenting him on his performance, decorated him.  While in England, he rendered excellent service at recruiting meetings.

How Bombardier Ernest George Cooper, Of The Royal Field Artillery

Won The D.C.M. At The Ploegsteert Wood 

            Early one fine morning, in the last days of October of 1914, a battery of Field Artillery had taken up a position the crest of a hill between the Messines toad and the Ploegsteert Wood.  Presently the order for action, and the battery was soon busily shelling the German trenches.  For some time there was no reply, but just as our men were beginning to congratulate themselves that the crest of the hill and some trees behind which the guns had been placed effectually secured them from observation, a high explosive shell burst not far away.  The enemy’s artillery had located them, and was endeavouring to find the range.  The next shell dropped unpleasantly close and the next closer still; and soon they were being subjected to a heavy bombardment, which effectively silenced their battery and drove the gunners for shelter to the gun pits behind the guns.

            Fiercer and fiercer grew the shelling; the whole crest of the hill was dotted with huge holes, and the tiles from the roof of a barn close at hand, which had been repeatedly struck, were scattered all around them.  No one was hit, nor were the guns damaged, though hour after hour passed and the bombardment continued as furiously as ever.  But shellfire can kill and injure in more ways than one; and presently a young bombardier, Ernest George Cooper, heard a shout from a gun pit not far from him that its occupants had been buried.  Heedless of the danger he was incurring, he at once left his own shelter, and picking up a shovel, ran to the pit from which the cry came, where he found that a shell had exploded on its very edge, completely filling it with earth.  Two of its three occupants were kneeling in the pit with their heads just above the mould, but nothing could be seen of the third, which was right down underneath buried as deeply as in a grave.

            Throwing off his coat, Cooper began to dig as he had never dug before in his life, and succeeded in extricating his comrade from his perilous situation, though not before the unfortunate man’s face was already blue with suffocation.  He saw that the neck of the unconscious soldier’s shirt, Cooper hoisted him on to his back and set off for a chateau about two hundred yards away, where the surgeon attached to the battery had taken refuge until his services should be required.  Both on his way to the chateau and on his return journey, the brave bombardier had to run the gauntlet of a very heavy shellfire-it was afterwards computed that on that day over three hundred shells were discharged against his battery alone but happily he passed through it unscathed.

             The comrade for whom he had risked his life soon revived under the surgeon’s care and was none the worse for his terrible experience.

How Captain Francis Octavius Grenfell, OF The 9^th Lancers,

Won The V.C. Near Doubon 

            About 7.30 on the morning of August 24^th-the day on which the retreat from Mons began-Sir Charles Ferguson, who was holding the village of Frameries with the right of the 5^th Division, found that the enemy were endeavouring to work round his flank between Frameries and Mons, and sent word of General Allenby that he was very hard pressed and in urgent need of support.  On receipt of this message, Allenby at once brought up his cavalry to the menaced point, and for a little while succeeded in holding the out flanking movement in check.

            The first of the cavalry to go into action were the three regiments of the 2^nd Brigade-the 4^th Dragoon Guards, the 9^th Lancers, and the 18^th Hussars, who began a dismounted action with the German infantry at a range of over a thousand yards near the village of Andregnies.  Then General de Lisle, who commanded the brigade, ordered the 9^th Lancers to mount and charge the flank of the advancing masses, with the other two regiments as supports.

           But alas! Their gallantry was to affect nothing beyond proving that the spirit, which had inspired the Light Brigade at Balaclava, is still a line in the British cavalry of today.  For the ground had been insufficiently reconnoitred, and five hundred yards from the enemy the Lancers found themselves held up by a double line of barbed wire, along which they galloped “like rabbits in front of a line of guns,” in a vain attempt to find some way of getting round.

            Every moment, beneath the deadly blast of shell and rifle fire which swept their now broken ranks, men dropped from their saddles, or horses, screaming in agony, came crashing down, until at last, perceiving the impossibility of reaching the enemy, the remnant of the regiment drew rein behind a house.

            But the respite they had thus gained was a very brief one.  At once the German guns were turned upon the house, which in a few minutes was nothing but a heap of tangled masonry; and once more men and horses were exposed to the full blast of the storm, until they finally found refuge under a railway embankment, near Doubon.

            By this time, all the senior officers had been either killed or so severely wounded as well as being incapacitated for further service; and Captain Francis Grenfell, who had kept his squadron together by giving the order to trot, found himself in command.  He himself had come by no means scathless through the terrible ordeal, which his regiment had undergone, having been badly wounded by shrapnel in the hand and leg; but this dauntless courage and devotion to duty were to triumph over pain and weakness, and to enable him to perform one of the most heroic actions of the first weeks of war.

            Under the lee of the embankment a battery commandant and some dozen gunners had taken shelter.  They belonged to the 119^th Battery of the Royal Field Artillery, which had been put out of action, with the loss of the most of its men and all its horses, by the enemy’s terrific shellfire.  Captain Grenfell at once determined that an attempt ought to be made to save the abandoned guns, and rode out alone to ascertain if there was any exit for them to the British lines.  Some little distance beyond them he discovered a way of retreat, and then coolly walked his horse back to the embankment, amidst a tempest of shot and shell, with the object on minimizing the risk of the undertaking in the eyes of his men.

            “We have got to save those guns,” said he.  “Who’s going to volunteer?” and he reminded his men of how the 9^th Lancers had saved a battery at Maiwand, and of how in South Africa they had never failed the gunners.  Every man at once volunteered, and leaving their horses behind the embankment, about a score of them, together with the survivors of the battery, ran towards the guns.

            “It’s all right they can’t hit us,” observed Captain Grenfell coolly, and although more than one journey was necessary and they were exposed to a tremendous fire, they succeeded in man handling the guns into safety, with the loss of only three men wounded, although, as the last gun was being got away, the German infantry were close upon them.

            Captain Grenfell, who was awarded the crown of every soldier’s ambition for this most gallant deed, was invalided home, but at the earliest possible moment he rejoined his regiment and greatly distinguished himself in the fight of the dismounted cavalry at Messines, on November 1^st 1914.  Wounded again, this time more severely than before, he once more fought his way back to recovery, but on March 24^th 1915, the 2^nd Cavalry Division, among which were the 9^th Lancers, were subjected to a violent gas attack by the Germans, the poison cloud rising to forty feet, and the emission continuing for four and a half hours.  Throughout the gas and the subsequent heavy shelling, which they received, this most hardly tried regiment stuck gallantly to their trenches, but they paid a heavy toll, and among the dead was Captain Grenfell.

How Corporal Francis Cyril Powell, Of Lord Strathcona’s Horse,

Won The D.C.M. At Festubert 

             One of the most inspiring features of the closing stage of the battle of Festubert, in May 1915, was the dash, gallantry and steadiness displayed by the Canadian cavalry regiments, which, to relieve the terrible pressure upon the infantry, were called on to serve in the trenches, without any previous fighting experience, and thrown into the forefront of a desperate and sanguinary conflict.  Many fine examples of courage and devotion to duty were shown by these dismounted troopers, among which the following was not the least notable.

            On May 25^th, Corporal Francis Cyril Powell, of Strathcona;’s Horse, was in charge of a telephone station in a farm house-or rather the remains of one-situated about six hundred yards behind our support trench. The enemy was very heavily shelling the intervening ground, in order to prevent our reserves being brought up, with the result that the telephone wires were repeatedly cut and communication between Brigade Headquarters and the trenches interrupted.  Time after time, at great risk to them, corporal Powell and his men went out into the open to locate and repair the damage; but almost as fast as they mended one break another occurred, and their perilous task had to be performed all over again. 

            Presently a most urgent message arrived from Brigade Headquarters, and as the wire had just been cut again, and it was impossible to send it on by telephone, the only thing to be done was for one of the party to carry it to their commanding officer, to which it was addressed.

            Corporal Powell himself undertook this most hazardous mission, and at once started for the trenches.  The ground which he had to traverse was perfectly open and so thickly covered with great shell holes, some of them six feet to eight feet deep, and almost as broad across the top, that rapid progress was impossible, while shrapnel and high explosive shells were bursting all about him.  But the brave man held on his way, threading a tortuous course amidst the shell craters, and ducking down every now and again when the shriek of some he projectile warned him of its near approach, and after more than one narrow escape, reached the trenches in safety.

            Having delivered the message to his commanding officer, he set out on his return journey, and happily accomplished it without mishap.  Later the same day, the brave corporal again crossed the shell swept ground with another urgent message and returned safely, and this feat he repeated on several subsequent occasions during the five days and nights he and his men occupied the farm, for he appeared to bear a charmed life.

How Lance Corporal Fred Aspinall, Of The 15^th Hussars, Won The D.C.M.

During The Retreat From Mons

            On the morning of August 27^th 1914-the day following Smith-Dorrien’s gallant rearguard action at Le Cateau, which broke the vigour of the German pursuit and foiled Von Kluck’s attempt to envelop and cut off our Second Army Corps-Lance-Corporal Fred Aspinall, of the 15^th Hussars, was sent, with one of his comrades, to a platoon on the 2^nd Royal Munster Fusiliers, posted on extreme right rear of the second Corps.  Their orders were to reconnoitre and, if required, to act as dispatch riders.  Having reported themselves to the officer in charge of the platoon, the two hussars proceeded to look for suitable cover for their horses, which they left behind a farmhouse, and then joined the infantry to await events.  They had not long to wait, for about half an hour late the enemy showed themselves from behind a wood which flanked a road running at right angles to that along which the Munsters were posted, though they were some considerable distance away.  On catching sight of them, the officer asked Aspinall to get his horse and endeavours to ascertain the strength of the enemy.  The hussar hurried off to the farm, and, mounting, made a long detour to the right, and then cautiously approached the Germans, until he reached a spot whence he was able to obtain an excellent view of them.  He then saw that they were in great force, though the wooded nature of the enemy prevented him from even a rough estimate of their numbers, and he also perceived, by the direction in which they were marching, that they must soon outflank the Munsters.

            Turning his horse’s head, he galloped away to warn the Irishmen, who, as he came up, opened a brisk fire on the enemy.  On hearing his report the officer dispatched the other hussar to summon reinforcements; but they did not arrive, the rest of the battalion being, in point of fact, already engaged in a desperate struggle with an overwhelming force of the enemy, who had contrived to cut off their retreat.

            Orders were accordingly given for the platoon to retire, and not a moment too soon, for the Germans, moving obliquely across their front, had succeeded in outflanking them, and had begun to enfilade them from the right.  Aspinall, however, who had found excellent cover behind a heap of stone by the roadside, courageously volunteered to cover the retreat, pointing out that by firing rapidly he might succeed in bluffing the enemy into the belief that they had a number of hidden marksmen to face instead of only one, and thus hold them in check long enough to enable our men to take up a new position. 

             His offer was accepted, and while the infantry effected their retirement in good order, the brave hussar remained behind the stone heap, facing down the road, with his rifle ready.

            By this time many of the enemy had begun to break through the hedge on his left and to cross the road, with the intention of making their way through the opposite hedge, at a point not more than two hundred yards from where Aspinall lay hidden.  The latter waited until the road was full of them, and then fired into the brown-or rather into the grey.  So rapidly did he shoot, and so easy was the target which the Huns, crowding towards the gaps in the further hedge which the foremost had made, presented to a skilled marksman at that distance, that inside a couple of minutes more than a score lay dead and dying in the road; and; in full belief that they were being enfiladed by a regular posse of sharpshooters, the whole line came to a halt, and a apart of them took up a position below a dip in the road, where they lay down and opened fire.

            The stone heap suffered severely, but the hussar behind it was untouched.  However, thinking about it was time to be moving, he crawled along the ground for some ten or twenty yards-still keeping the friendly stone heap between him and the enemy-and then jumped up and made a sash for the farm where he had left his horse.  He reached it in safety and found, to his surprise, another horse tethered beside his own, who’s owner-a man from his own troop named Soper-made his appearance a few moments later.  There was no time to inquire he had come from, as bullets were already striking the post of the gate, which was the only way by which they could leave the farm.  So Aspinall sprang into the saddle, calling out: “We shall have to make a dash for it.  One-two-three!”  And away they went at full pelt, zigzagging from one side o the road to the other to make as difficult a target for the enemy as possible.

            They had gone some distance without either they or their horses being hit, and Aspinall, thinking that they were now safe, had taken off his cap to give a cheer, when a bullet struck him in the hip, coming out just below the groin and passing through his field dressing.  He managed to keep his seat, but pulled his horse into a walk, put his rifle in the bucket attached to the saddle and hung his ammunition on the rifle butt.  Then he got off-or rather fell off-as the pain caused by proceeding even at a walking pace was unendurable, and tried to drive his horse in the direction in which the Munsters had gone.  But the animal refused to leave his master, until a man belonging to the R.A.M.C. came by and led him away.  Shortly afterwards, an officer of the same corps came up, examined the hussar’s wound took his name, and promised to send an ambulance for him.  However, before the ambulance arrived, a body of Germans appeared upon the scene, and Aspinall found himself a prisoner.

            Drawing his revolver, an officer approached the wounded man, and demanded in which direction the Munsters had retired, threatening to shoot him out of hand if he refused to tell him.  But Aspinall, without changing countenance, calmly inquired what answer the German would make if he were in his place.  Upon which the officer, seeing that there was nothing to be got out of his prisoner and admiring his courage, laughed good humouredly, and without pressing the question, put back his revolver and went away.

            Lance-Corporal Aspinall who was awarded the Distinguished Conduct Medal for his gallant conduct, appears to have been well treated by his captors, and was afterwards sent as a prisoner to Hanover.

How Company Sergeant Major Fred Seaman, Of The 2^nd Battalion

Coldstream Guards Won The D.C.M. At Cuinchy

              Worthy, indeed, of their glorious traditions has been the conduct of the Coldstream Guards in the Great War, and terrible have been the losses suffered and many the distinctions gained by the officers and men of that famous corps.  But among of splendid deeds of gallantry and devotion, which we might mention here, that which won Company-Sergeant Major Fred Seaman, of the 2^nd Battalion, the D.C.M. will bear comparison with any.

            Shortly after two o’clock on the morning of February 1^st 1915, during the action at Cuinchy, the enemy rushed one of our trenches, and Sergeant major Seaman’s company received orders to retake it.  So heavy had been the losses of this company, that only of its officers was fit for duty; and the command of the party, which consisted of twenty men, was therefore, entrusted to the sergeant major, who was instructed to rush the trench from the towpath of the canal, acting in conjunction with a second party, which was to attack from the other side of the railway embankment.

            Under cover of the railway embankment, which runs parallel with the canal, Seaman led his party at the double along the towpath, until they arrived at a culvert beneath the railway, which they found that the enemy had barricaded in such a way that there was only sufficient room for one men to squeeze through at a time.  Around this opening, at a distance of about thirty yards, he drew up his men in a half circle, and had just done so, when he received a message from his commanding officer, inquiring if it were possible to get through the culvert.  The sergeant major sent back answer that it was only possible to get one man in at a time, and that he proposed to go him.  He then entered the place, and, dauntless as Horatius upon the bridge at Rome, remained there for an hour and a half, holding the enemy at bay and repulsing every attempt they made to get through and cut his party and the attacking party off.  For though the Germans tried again and again, they could come at him one at a time, and whenever the Guardsman’s deadly rifle spoke, the forest Hun Fell.  The gallant sergeant major did not escape unhurt, however, as he was wounded in the arm by a bomb thrown by one of the enemy, though, happily, the injury was not serious enough to prevent him from continuing to use his rifle.  Eventually, the trench was retaken by the other party of our men, amongst whom, it is interesting to note, was the famous Michael O’Leary, V.C., who distinguished himself not a little on this occasion.

How Company Sergeant Major Fred Smith, Of The 1/5^th Battalion South

Lancashire Regiment (T.F.), Won The D.C.M. At The Second Battle Of Ypres

            Towards noon on a fine day in May 1915, during the Second Battle of Ypres, a platoon of the 1/5^th South Lancashire Regiment (T.F.), consisting of an officer, a company sergeant major named Fred Smith, six other N.C.O.’s and thirty men, were posted in an isolated machine gun trench.  Desperate fighting was in progress that day at other parts of the British line, but just where these Lancashire Territorials were all had so far been calm and quiet.  This agreeable condition of things was not to continue very long, however, for presently a couple of German aeroplanes came sailing down the wind and began to hover over our trenches and the appearance of these birds of ill omen was speedily followed by the arrival of huge shells from one of the enemy’s heavy gun batteries about three or four miles away.

            The shells came four at a time, and at first did no damage, some falling short and wasting their destructive power on the already shell torn ground in front of the trenches, whilst others screamed harmlessly overhead.  But the aeroplanes soon corrected the range, and they began to drop unpleasantly close, some blowing in parts of the parapet.  The gunners were evidently trying hard for the South Lancashire’s section of the trenches, which was just in front of a farmhouse.

            The bombardment had continued for more than two hours, when suddenly there was a blinding flash and a terrible concussion, and Company Sergeant Major Smith, looking in the direction from which the flash had come, saw that a shell had landed right in a dug out.  The cries of the wounded men were heartrending, and heedless of his own danger, the brave sergeant major climbed out of the trench and ran towards the spot.  Some of the unfortunate occupants of the dug out had been killed outright, whilst others were buried and held down by the beams and timber from the shattered roof.  Finding that he could not liberate them without the aid of a spade, he went back to the trench and obtained the only one the platoon had, and, having pulled away the fallen timber, proceeded, with shells bursting all about him, to dig his imprisoned comrades out and give them water.  One man, to whom Smith handed the water bottle, was so parched with thirst that he would have drained it to the dregs, had not he reminded him that he must spare some for the others; upon which the man immediately gave it back.  Another of the injured, as soon as he had drank his share, begged Smith to light a cigarette for him.

            When darkness fell, the wounded were conveyed to the nearest dressing station on stretchers; a shell hole served as the grave for the dead.

How Company Sergeant Major Fredrick Barter, Special Reserve, Attached

1^st Battalion, Royal Welsh Fusiliers, Won The Victoria Cross At Festubert

              At daybreak on May 16^th 1915, after very effective artillery preparation, which swept away the German wire entanglements as though they had been matchwood, and in places almost obliterated their trenches, the British infantry attacked the enemy’s position immediately east of Festubert, where their front showed a pronounced salient.  Two brigades of the 7^th Division-the 20^th and 22^nd-and part of the 2^nd Division and the Indian Corps were the troops to which the movement was entrusted.  The latter attacked on the left near Richebourg l’Avoue; the 20^th brigade moved from Rue du Bois south eastward; while the 22^nd Brigade advanced to the southeast of Festubert against the Rue d’Ouvert.

             The most successful movement was that of the 22^nd Brigade on our right, composed of the 2^nd Queen’s, 1^st Royal Welsh Fusiliers and the 1^st South Staffords, with the 2^nd Warwick’s and the 8^th Royal Scots in support, which advanced for more than a mile and succeeded in reaching the enemy’s main communication trench near the Rue’d’ Ouvert.

             The German entrenchments in the Festubert area were curiously complicated, forming, in fact, a veritable network, and these circumstances naturally put a premium on bomb throwing. He old eighteenth century weapon being the most efficient we possessed for close quarter fighting.  The bombers of the 1st grenadiers, in the 20th Brigade, did brilliant work, and by a party of the Civil Service Rifles, led by a sergeant of the Post Office Rifles, on the following day, the four survivors each being awarded the Distinguished Conduct Medal.  But these feats were surpassed by that performed by a party of the 1^st Welsh Fusiliers, led by Company Sergeant Major Barter. 

            When his battalion reached the first line of German trenches, Barter called for bomb throwers to enable him to extend our line.  With the eight volunteers who responded, he proceeded to deal out death and mutilation on so wholesale a scale that in a very short time he had cleared five hundred yards of hostile trenches and captured three officers and one hundred and two men, besides finding and cutting eleven mine leads, situated about twenty yards apart.

             For this most splendid exploit, worthy to rank with that of Sergeant Michael O’Leary at Cuinchy, Company sergeant Major Barter was awarded the Victoria Cross, while subsequently he was promoted to the rank of Second Lieutenant.  He is a Cardiff man, and having served his time with the colours, was, when war broke out, in the employment of the Cardiff Gas Company as a gas stove fitter.

            Any account of the famous bomb exploit at Festubert would be incomplete without mention of a mystery connected with one of the party, which his death on this occasion served to clear up.  Among the eight men who assisted Lieutenant Barter was a private of the 2^nd Queen’s named them as Hardy, who had been temporarily attached to the Welsh Fusiliers for training in bomb throwing, in which he made astonishing progress.  Hardy was a man of splendid physique, obviously a gentleman, and so proficient in his military duties that Barter, with whom he soon became on intimate terms, began to suspect that he was an officer who had left the service possibly under a cloud, and had enlisted under an assumed name.   

            His suspicious proved, in the main, to be correct, for one day “Hardy” admitted to him that his real name was Smart, and that he had been a captain in the 53^rd Sikhs, and that, being on leave in England at the time when war broke out, he had decided not to return to India, but to join a British regiment as a private in order to make sure of getting to the front.  He begged Barter to keep the fact a secret while he lived, but, should he be killed in action, he might then consider himself at liberty to make it public.

            In the bomb attack, Private “Hardy” showed such splendid courage that, in Lieutenant Barter’s opinion he would, had he survived, have certainly awarded the Distinguished Conduct Medal.  “He was,” said he, in conversation with a representative of a London paper, “about ten yards from the first German trench when he got wounded.  It was a terrible blow in the right shoulder.  Some of our men bound up the wound, and I shouted, ‘Hardy, go back!’ I could see, however that he was determined to go at the enemy.  ‘Hardy’ answered: ‘It’s all right, for I am left handed.’

             “The next thing I saw was ‘Hardy’ rushing off to our right, and, with the bravery which seemed his characteristic, he commenced to slam the bombs at the enemy.  He carried on like that for about twenty or thirty years, and he was eventually shot through the head, half of which was blown off.  He died a hero’s death, and no one regretted his end more than I did, for I was probably attached to him more than anyone else, and was afforded opportunities of seeing his sterling worth.  Hardy was a man of splendid physique-I should say he was quite six feet high, and there can be no doubt of this, that he was six feet of real manhood.  A more fearless fellow it would be impossible to find.  We all loved him.  I have never seen a happier man.  He seemed to live to beat the Germans.”

How Private Frederick Neville, Of The 15^th Hussars Won The D.C.M.

At Zandvoorde

            Few military exploits are more calculated to impress the imagination than the accomplishment of some daring feat of despatch riding through the midst of an enemy’s country or over ground swept by artillery or rifle fire; and perhaps never in the present war has work of this kind performed with more conspicuous gallantry than that done by Private Frederick eville, of the 15^th (“The King’s”) Hussars, in his perilous rides on three successive days at the end of October 1914.

            The 15^th Hussars at this time were acting as Divisional Cavalry for the First Division and were engaged in patrol work in the neighbourhood of Ypres.  On October 28^th, Private Neville formed one of a patrol consisting of a corporal and four men, which, on reaching a farm at Zandvoorde, ascertained that the enemy was preparing an attack on our infantry.  After information to that effect had been sent to Headquarters, the patrol found itself obliged to retire a tremendous artillery and rifle fire from the advancing Germans, who were composed chiefly of battalions of the Prussian Guard.  Private Neille was sent with a message to Headquarters, where he was requested by the late General Lomax to return to Zandvoorde with an important despatch.  On reaching Gheluvelt, he found that the road between that and Zandvoorde was being so heavily shelled by the enemy that it seemed that no living thing could win through in safety.  But, without a moment’s hesitation, the gallant Hussar touched his horse with the spur and rode at full gallop into the inferno.  Before, however he had proceeded very far, there came a deafening crash, and he found himself lying in the ditch with his horse on top of him.  Fortunately, neither man nor horse was hurt, and, crawling out of the ditch and dragging his trembling charger after him, he remounted his perilous ride and reached his destination, which was within two hundred yards of the enemy’s lines, in safety.

            On the following day (October 29^th), the services of this daring light cavalryman were again requisitioned, this time to convey a message of a windmill to which the British staff had retired during the night.  Learning that it was impossible to proceed by the Gheluvelt Road, he was obliged to make his way thither across some open country upon which the German shells were falling with alarming frequency.  He was still some five hundred yards from the windmill when a “Jack Johnson” exploded in front of him, the concussion of the bursting shell blowing rider and horse completely over though neither was hit.  Regaining his feet, he led his horse to a farm two hundred yards from the windmill and, leaving him there, accomplished the rest of the journey by crawling along the ground.

            After delivering the message with which he had been entrusted, Private Neville returned to Headquarters.  On the way he noticed that whenever any attempt was made by the British to send reinforcements to the firing line the, intervening ground was immediately covered by a curtain of shrapnel and high explosive, and came to the conclusion that the neighbouring church was being used by the Germans as an observation post.  His opinion was speedily confirmed; for no sooner had the fire of our artillery than demolished the church it was found that reinforcements could be brought up in perfect safety.   

             On October 30^th Private Neville again rendered valuable service.  While conveying a despatch to our infantry brigade, he came upon a wounded motorcyclist lying by the side of the road.  The latter had been charged with a verbal message of the highest importance, which he repeated to the Hussar, who delivered it safely at its destination, and by so doing contributed to relieve a very critical situation.  On this day, as on the two preceding ones, Private Neville was continually exposed to the greatest danger, but once more the good fortune to escape unhurt.

How Private Frederick William Owen Potts Of The 1/1^st

Berkshire Yeomanry (T.F.), Won The V.C. At Hill 70,

Gallipoli

            After the gallant, but unsuccessful, assaults on the Anafarta heights, which followed the landing of the 10^th and 11^th Divisions at Suvla Bay, at the beginning of August 1915, our men employed themselves in consolidating what ground they had won, and the Suvla operations languished for some days.  But, meantime we were preparing for a second effort, and fresh troops, consisting of the famous 29^th Division and the 2^nd Mounted Division of Yeomanry) organised as dismounted troopers) were brought to the scene of action and placed under the command of General de Lisle.

            The objective was the encircling hills behind the Suvla plain, extending from Hill 70 to Hill 100.  The task before our men was one of the greatest difficulties, since, as all the advantage of surprise had long since been lost, the only tactics left to us were those of a frontal attack, and that against a strong position held in at least equal force by the enemy.  The afternoon of August 21^st was the time chosen for the attack.  After a heavy bombardment of the Turkish position from both land and sea, at 3 p.m. the 34^th Brigade of the 11^th Division, on the right of our line, rushed the Turkish trenches between Hetman Chair and the Aire Kavak, practically without loss.  But the 32^nd Brigade, who advanced against Hetman Chair and the communication trench connecting it with southwest corner of Hill 100, failed to make good their point, through mistaking the direction and attacking from the northeast, instead of the east; and the 33^rd Brigade, sent up in haste, with orders to capture this communication trench at all costs, fell into precisely the same error.

            Meanwhile the 87^th Brigade of the 29^th Divisions, whose advance had been planned for 3.30 p.m., had attacked Hill 70 with great dash and carried some of the Turkish trenches there, though the enemy’s artillery and machine gun fire was too heavy to allow them to gain the crest.

            At the same time, the 86^th Brigade, though they had been at first thrown into disorder by the scrub on Chocolate Hill catching fire, and had been unable to advance up the valley between the two spurs, owing to the failure of the 11^th Division on their right, were making repeated and most gallant efforts to carry Hill 100 from the east but they were decimated by a terrible cross fire of shell and musketry, which simply swept the leading troops off the top of the spur, and were eventually obliged to fall back to a ledge to the southwest of Hill 70, where they found a little cover.

            About five o’clock, whilst the fighting was still in progress, the Yeomanry moved out from below the knoll of Lala Baba, where they had been held in reserve, to take up a position of readiness between Hill 70 and Hill 100.  Their advance lay across a mile and a half of open country, where they were exposed to a devastating fire of shrapnel; but they moved forward in perfect order as if on parade.  Sir Ian Hamilton has described the scene in his despatch of December 11^th 1915;

            “The advance of these English Yeoman was a sight calculated to send a thrill of pride through anyone with a drop of English blood running in his veins.  Such superb martial spectacles are rare in modern war.  Ordinarily, it should always be possible to bring up reserves under some sort of cover from shrapnel fire.  Here, for a mile and a half, there was nothing to conceal a mouse, much less some of the most stalwart soldiers England has ever sent from her shores.  Despite the critical events in other parts of the field, I could hardly take my glasses from the Yeomen; they moved like men marching on parade.  Here and there a shell would take toll of a cluster; there they lay.  There was no straggling, the others moved steadily on; not a man was there who hung back or hurried.”

             At last the Yeomanry reached the foot of Chocolate Hill, where they rested for half an hour.  Here they were comparatively safe from shellfire, but were annoyed by the Turkish snipers, by whom not a few of them were hit.  Having recovered their breath, the 2^nd South Midland Brigade that was composed of the Bucks, Berks and Dorset Yeomanry under the command of Brigadier-General the Earl of Longford, who was unhappily killed during the action moved to the left of Chocolate Hill to occupy the reserve trenches.

            While the Berkshire Yeomanry were passing through a field of ripe wheat, a man named West, a couple of yards in front of Private Potts, whose heroic deed we are about to relate, was struck in the thigh by an explosive bullet, which came out as a five shilling piece and before they gained the reserve trenches, they had lost a number of men, some of whom fell wounded and were immediately afterwards hit again and killed outright.

            After they had been a short while in the reserve trenches, the Yeomanry received the order to advance and, making their way up the slopes by short rushes, they reached the foremost lines of the 29^th Division, the Berkshire Yeomanry finally halting in a gully which was occupied by the Bucks and the Dorset’s.

            As darkness was falling, the brigade was launched to the attack, in the hope that they might retrieve the fortunes of the day.  All that valour could do they certainly did, and their right flank succeeded in carrying the trenches on a knoll so near the summit of Hill100, that from the plain it looked as though the crest itself had been won.  But this the Turks still held, and as our men were too exhausted, and had lost too heavily to undertake a second immediate assault, and as it was clear that when daylight came the knoll would be swept by fire, there was nothing for it but to fall back.  Meanwhile, on the left, the Berkshire Yeomanry had, with splendid courage and resolution, fought their way to the third Turkish trench, but by this time, so terrible had been their losses, that they were reduced to a mere handful; and since it would have been impossible to hold the ground that they had won against a counter attack in any force, they had no alternative but to retire also.

            Private Potts was not one of those who assisted to carry enemy’s trenches, since, before he had advanced thirty yards, he was hit at the top of the left thigh, the bullet going clean through, and as he was subsequently told in hospital, only missing the artery by the fraction of an inch.  He fell to the ground and lay there helpless, while his comrades rushed on to the attack.  Fortunately, he had fallen amidst a cluster of scrub, which if it did not afford much protection from bullets, at any rate screened him from the view of the Turks, so long as he did not move.

             He had been lying there about half an hour, when he heard a noise, and, looking round, saw a man whom he recognized as Private Andrews of the Berkshire-who, by a singular coincidence, hailed, like Potts himself, from Reading-crawling painfully towards him.  Andrews had a bullet in the groin a very dangerous wound-and he was suffering terribly and losing a great deal of blood.

            The two men had been together only a few minutes when a third man-a stranger to both of them- who had a wound in the leg, crawled up to their hiding place.  So cramped were they for room amid the scrub that Andrews, though in great pain, shifted his position a little, in order that the new comer might find shelter also.  The simple act of kindness probably saved his life, as not ten minutes a bullet, which passed through both his legs, mortally wounded afterwards the stranger.

            The night passed, and was succeeded by a day of scorching heat; the cries of the dying man for water were pitiful, but they had not a drop amongst the three of them, and could do nothing to quench his raging thirst.  Potts and Andrews suffered terribly from the same cause from hunger as well, and it seemed as though the day would never end.

            The sun went down at last, but night brought them no relief, since it was bitterly cold, and there was a full moon which made the country side as light as day, so that they dared not move, for fear of attracting the attention of the Turkish snipers.  Their unfortunate comrade became delirious, and kept tossing from side to side, which added greatly to the dangers of their situation, since every time he moved the Turks fired at the clump of bushes.

            Potts lay as flat as he could, face to ground, for the bullets were pattering all around them; but, even in that position, he had very narrow escape, one actually grazing the tip of his left ear and covering his face with blood.  Towards morning death put an end to the sufferings of their hapless companion, who had kept on moaning almost to the last for the water that it was impossible for them to give him.  His dead body had to remain with them, since they could neither move it nor get away themselves.

            During the whole of the next day the two men remained in they’re hiding place, suffering indescribably from hunger, thirst, scorching sun, and the pain of their wounds.  In desperation, they plucked bits of the stalks of the scrub and tried to suck them, in the hope of moistening their parched throats a little; but they got no relief in that way.

            The day seemed interminable, for, though so exhausted, the pain they were enduring and the noise of the fighting, which was still proceeding, prevented them from obtaining any sleep.  They could not see anything of their comrades, and they knew it was impossible for any stretcher-bearers to get through to them, since they were too far up the hill, and the terrible fire kept up by the enemy rendered it hopeless for any stretcher parties to venture out.

            When darkness fell, they decided that, as it would be certain death from hunger and thirst to remain where they were, even if they escaped the Turkish bullets, there was nothing for it but to make a move and endeavour to regain the British lines.

            They accordingly started to crawl down the hill, and, though their progress was, of course, terribly slow, for every movement caused them intense pain, they succeeded, after several hours, in reaching the shelter of another patch of scrub, about three hundred yards away, where they passed the rest of the night covering themselves with some empty sandbags that they found lying there, as they were nearly frozen.

            When morning came they were able for the first time in nearly thirty-six hours, to obtain water, by taking the water bottles from some dead men who were lying near them.  This afforded them immense relief.

            They crept back to their shelter, and Potts dressed his comrade’s wound, which was bleeding badly, with his field dressing, and afterwards Andrews performed the same service for him.

            All that day they lay concealed, but as soon as it grew dark they started of again, though they did not for a moment suppose that they would live to reach the British lines.  Every moment was torment on account of the thorns from the scrub, and, after going a few yards; they gave up the attempt, as Andrews was too exhausted to go any further.  He unselfishly urged Potts to leave him and look after himself, but this the other would not hear of; and, lifting Andrews up, he made a brave effort to carry him, but found himself far too weak.

            It began to look as though they were doomed to perish in this terrible place, when suddenly, like an inspiration, a means of escape presented itself to them.  Casting his eyes about him, Potts caught sight of an entrenching shovel, which had been dropped during the attack of the 21^st, laying a little way off.  He saw at once that the shovel might be used as a kind of sledge to draw his helpless comrade into safety, and, crawling up to it, brought it to where Andrews lay, placed him upon it and began to drag him down the hill.

            Andrews sat on the shovel as best he could, with his legs crossed, the wounded one over the sound one, and putting his hands behind his back, clasped Potts wrists as he sat on the ground behind and hauled away at the handle.

            “I prayed,” Says Potts, “as I never prayed before for strength, help and guidance, and I felt confident that we should win through all right.”

            As soon as they began to move, they were spotted by the Turks, who opened fire upon them; but, careless of the risk of being hit, Potts stood up, for the first time since he had been wounded, and tugged away desperately at the handle of the shovel.

            However, after going a few yards, he was forced to lie down and rest, and decided to wait until nightfall before continuing his journey.  Then he started off again, and yard-by-yard dragged his burden down the hill, stopping every few paces to rest, for he was very weak and his wounded leg was causing him intense pain.  Bullets from the Turkish snipers hummed continually past him, but, happily none hit him, and at last, after three hours toil and suffering, he reached a little wood, where he reached a little wood, where he was in comparative safety and was able to stand upright.

             A little farther on he was challenged by a British sentry, and found that he was close to one of our advanced trenches.  He explained matters to the sentry, who summoned some of his comrades, and they brought a blanket, and, lifting Andrews on to it, carried him into the trench.  There everything that kindness could suggest was done for him and his gallant rescuer; and when the two had rested a little, they were placed on stretchers and carried to the nearest dressing station, from which they were afterwards sent to hospital in Malta.

How Second Lieutenant Geoffrey Harold Wooley, Of The 9^th Country Of

London Battalion, The London Regiment (Queen Victoria’s Rifles)

Won the V.C. At Hill 60

            Early in the eventful August of 1914, a young undergraduate of Queen’s College, Oxford, the son of a country clergyman, and who, but for the outbreak of war, would have been by this time a clergyman himself, joined the 5^th Battalion Essex Regiment, and went with them to Drayton, near Norwich, where that unit was to undergo its training, under the command of Colonel J. M. Welch.  His stay with the 5^th Essex was very brief, however, for on August 26^th he was transferred to the Queen Victoria’s Rifles.  This young man was second Lieutenant Geoffrey Harold Woolley, who was to have the honour of being the first territorial officer to win the Victoria Cross.

             The Queen Victoria’s Rifles crossed the Channel in November 1914, and in due course proceeded to take their turn in their trenches with the regular battalions of the 5^th Division, to which they were attached, where they came in on occasion for some pretty severe shelling.  But they were not employed in attack until the affair at Hill 60 in the following April, which was an experience none of them is ever likely to forget.

            Hill 60-a hill, by the way, only by courtesy, since it is, in point of fact, merely on earth heap from the cutting of the Ypres-Lille Railway-lies a little to the west of Klein Zillebeke and just east of the hamlet of Zwartlehen, the scene of the famous charge of our Household Cavalry on the night of November 6^th 1914.  Its importance was that it afforded an artillery position from which the whole German front in the neighbourhood of Chateau Hollebeke could be commanded.

            At seven o’clock in the evening of April 17^th the British exploded seven mines on the hill, which played havoc with the defences, blowing up a trench line and 150 men, after which under cover of heavy artillery fire, the position was stormed by the 1^st West Kent’s and the 2^nd King’s Own Scottish Borderers, who entrenched themselves in the shell craters and brought up machine guns.  During the night several of the enemy’s counter attacks were repulsed with heavy loss, and fierce hand-to-hand fighting took place; but in the early morning the Germans succeeded in forcing back the troops holding the right of the hill to the reverse slope, where, however they hung on throughout the day.   In the evening the West Kent’s and the King’s Own Scottish Borderers were relieved by the 2^nd West Ridings and the 2^nd Yorkshire Light Infantry, who again stormed the hill, under cover of heavy artillery fire, and drove the enemy off with the bayonet.  But Hill 60 was of vital importance to the enemy if they intended to maintain their Hollebeke ground, and on the 19^th another fierce attack was made on it, with the support of artillery and asphyxiating bombs.  T was repulsed, but the hill formed a salient, which exposed our men to fire from three sides, and all through the 19^th and 20^th a terrific cannonade was directed against them.  In the evening of the latter day came another determined infantry attack, while all the night parties of the enemy’s bomb throwers kept working their way up to our trenches.

             At 9.30 that night two companies of the queen Victoria’s under Major Rees and Captain Westby, received orders to advance from their trenches and take up a position close to the top of the hill.  Although the distance to be traversed was only some 200 yards, so terrible was the fire to which they were exposed, that it took them two hours to reach the post assigned to them, where they dug themselves in close to a huge crater made by one of the British mines which had been exploded on the 17^th.

            Towards midnight Sergeant E. H. Pulleyn was ordered to take sixteen men to the very crest of the hill, some twenty yards away, to fill a gap in our trenches line there.  A withering fire was immediately opened upon the party by the enemy, who were not thirty yards distant, and only the sergeant and eleven of his men reached the position, while of the survivors five fell almost immediately.  Pulleyn and the remaining six maintained there ground for a few minutes, when, recognizing the impossibility of holding it longer, they retired and rejoined their comrades, carrying their wounded with them.

            Both Major Rees and Captain Westby had already been killed, and of 150 riflemen who had followed them up that fatal hill, two-thirds had fallen.  The remainder held on stubbornly, however and so accurate was their fire that the Germans did not dare to advance over the crest.  But the crossfire to which our men were exposed was terrible; never for a moment did it slacken, and man after man went down before it.  When day began to break there were but thirty left.

            It was at this critical moment that an officer was seen making his way up the hill towards them.  The men in the trench held their breath; it seemed to them impossible that anyone could come alive through the midst of the fearful fire which was sweeping he slope; every instant they expected to see him fall to rise no more.  But on he came, sometimes running, sometimes crawling, while bullets buzzed past his head and shells burst all about him, until at last he climbed the parapet and stood amongst them, unharmed.  Then they saw that he was second Lieutenant Woolley, who learning that their officers ad been killed, had left the security of his own trench and run the gauntlet of the enemy’s fire to take charge of that gallant little band. 

                His arrival put fresh heart into the Queen Victoria’s, and there, in that trench, choked with their dead and wounded comrades, shelled and bombed and enfiladed by machine guns, this Oxford undergraduate, the two brave N.C.O.’s, Pulleyn and Peabody, and their handful of Territorial, held the German hordes at bay hour after hour, repelling more than one attack, in which the young lieutenant rendered excellent service by the accuracy of his bomb throwing, until at last relief came.

            Of 4 officers and 150 N.C.O.’s and men who had ascended the hill the previous night, only 2 N.C.O.’s and 24 men answered the roll call.  But, though they had suffered grievously, the battalion had gained great honour, both for themselves and the whole Territorial Force.

            Second Lieutenant-now Captain-Woolley had the proud distinction of being the first Territorial officer to be awarded the Victoria Cross; while Sergeant Pulleyn and Corporal Peabody each received the Distinguished Conduct Medal for “the great gallantry and endurance displayed, and for the excellent service rendered, in the flight for the possession of Hill 60.

How Major George James Christie, Of The 9^th Argyll And Sutherland Highlanders

(T.F.), Won The D.S.O. At The Second Battle Of Ypres.

             During the night of May 9^th-10^th 1915, a draft of thirty men belonging to the 9^th Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders (T.F.), all burning to take their share in the great battle which had been in progress for nearly three weeks, joined their battalion, which was occupying dugouts n the Zouave Wood near Hooge.  At dawn the new arrivals were allocated; before midday they were fighting for their lives; and when evening came only two of them were fit for service.  For that day was a terrible ordeal for those gallant Territorial.  Early in the morning the German artillery began a heavy bombardment of the British trenches on either side of the Ypres-Menin Road, which in places were soon almost demolished, and the bombardment was followed up by an attack under cover of gas.  Between 8 a.m. and 9 a.m. the 9^th Argyll’s were ordered to reinforce the 2ns Cameron’s with two companies, and “A” Company and “D” Company were accordingly dispatched, under the command of Major Christie.  Through a terrific shellfire, Major Christie led his men to a position astride the Menin Road, two hundred yards west of Hooge, where the Cameron headquarters were.  Here they dug themselves in, while the major went forward for further orders.  At 9.30 he was ordered to lead one company forward to reinforce a trench south of the Menin Road, and between it and the Sanctuary Wood, which was reported to be breaking.  “A” Company, being stationed on the south side of the road, was chosen, and advanced in short rushes, with cries of “Good old 9^th Argyll’s!”  The advance lay over a bare slope right to the ridge opposite Chateau Hooge, without a ditch, or hedge even, to afford cover from view, and was accomplished under a most murderous fire.  But though comrades were falling to right and left of him, not one of those brave Scotsmen wavered, but only became the keener to come to close grips with the Huns.

            They were only just in time, for the gas, on top of the terrible shelling, had been more than flesh and blood could endure.  The trench, which they had come to save, had broken, and the men were falling back.  At sight of the Argyll’s, however, they raised a cheer, and passing through them, the Territorial dashed into the trench, bayoneted or chased out those Germans who had already gained a footing there, and, setting up their machine guns, began to mow down the advancing enemy with them and rifle fire.  The Huns, astonished at this unexpected resistance, fell back in confusion, and the Argyll’s and Cameron’s, having done what they could to repair the damage done to the trench by the enemy’s shellfire, awaited developments.  Presently they saw, to their astonishment, a strong force of men in Cameron kilts, advancing through the Bellewarde Wood, north of the Menin Road, toward the trenches occupied by the 91^st.  Uncertain as to whether they were British or Germans, they refrained from firing, until volley upon volley from the trenches of the 91^st told them they were the enemy in disguise.

             Meanwhile “B” and “C” Companies of the 9^th Argyll’s had advanced from Zouave Wood to the trenches, which Major Christie’s men had dug near the Menin Road.  On the way, their gallant and much loved Commander, Lieutenant-Colonel Clark, and shells killed another officer.  Major Christie, who had hurried back to report the new attack, dispatched “D” Company to reinforce the 91^st; but, notwithstanding the assistance of the Territorial, the latter were driven from their trenches by the determine attacks of the kilted Germans.  The 9^th Argyll’s and 2^nd Cameron’s, though now exposed to an enfilading fire from north of the Menin Road, gallantly held their trenches against every attack, until night fell, and piles of corpses beyond their entanglements bore eloquent testimony to the deadly work of their machine guns and rifles.  They had themselves lost heavily, however.  Among the slain was Colonel Campbell, commanding the Cameron’s, who was killed by a shell, which had landed right in the middle of a machine gun team, who work he was directing.

            At 2 a.m. relief arrived, and Major Christie, whom the death of Colonel Clark had left in command of the 9^th Argyll’s, led his sorely tried men back to their dugouts in Zouave Wood.  In that and the previous days fighting the battalion had had twelve and some three hundred men killed and wounded.  Thee losses were considerably increased during the next two days, May 11^th and 12^th, when, their position having been located by a captive kite balloon sent up by the enemy, the wood was raked by a terrific shelling, which seemed to search every yard of it.  Major Christie’s own dugout was twice blown in, but, happily, he escaped without injury.  When the shelling creased, hardly a tree of that wood remained standing; all was a jumble of broken timber and undergrowth, beneath which lay dead men, broken rifles and equipment, and torn sandbag.  On the 16^th the 9^th Argyll’s were sent to the rest camp at Poperinghe.  But they were not permitted to enjoy even so much as one whole day’s rest, as, scarcely had they arrived, when orders came to join the 10^th Brigade at La Brique.

            Just after dawn on May 24^th, while they were occupying the support trenches northeast of Saint-Jean, the enemy started bombarding our front with asphyxiating shells and immediately afterwards gas was released from the cylinders against the whole three miles of front from Shelltrap Farm to the Bellewaarde Lake.  After the gas came a violent bombardment from north, northeast and east. 

            Seeing that the troops in the first line trenches were beginning to give way, Major Christie at once resolved to repeat that dash to the rescue, which had saved the Cameron’s trench at Hooge a fortnight before, and having adjusted their respirators, the territorial doubled across the shell swept ground which lay between them and the fire trenches.  The sight which met their eyes as they reached them was terrible, for maimed and gassed men were lying everywhere.  But they lost no time getting to work, and, lining the broken parapet, opened a withering fire on the advancing Germans.  The enemy fell back, but soon it became apparent that their artillery was concentrating on that particular trench, while, though the German infantry fell in heaps before our fire, they continued to advance in ever increasing numbers.  Major Christie saw that, if the trench was to be held, more men must be found to replace those whom we were losing every minute.  As all communication with the rear had been cut, he left one of his officers in charge, and ran back to the support trench, in search of stragglers.  He found a few odd lots of the Dublin Fusiliers and of his own battalion and rushed them forward.  But still there were not sufficient rifles to line the parapet, so out into the fire swept open went the major again, searching for men-men with rifles.  In a small isolated trench he found another odd lot, gassed and half dazed, but, though for the moment the poor fellows could be of little use, they had rifles, and, pouncing upon them, he was leading them forward, when he was hit in the leg by a piece of shell and fell to the ground.  But the odd lot he was leading went on and reached the trench, and it seems to have been largely through the assistance rendered by them that the German hordes were held off until relief arrived.

            Major Christie did what he could for himself with a tourniquet, until Drummer Bell, of the Argyll’s came out of the trench to his assistance and after rendering first aid, went away and returned with two men of their battalion carrying a stretcher.  Lifting the wounded officer on to this, they set out for the nearest dressing station; but so tremendous was the fire through which they had to pass, that they were obliged several times to stop and take refuge in a ditch or under a hedge.  Major Christie begged the men to leave him and look after themselves; but these brave fellows indignantly refused to do, and, though all three were wounded, they managed to stagger on with their load until they reached the dressing station.  Drummer Bell, who repeatedly interposed his own body between his wounded officer and the enemy’s fire, was subsequently awarded the Distinguished Conduct Medal and the French Croix de Guerre.

How Acting Corporal George Dagger, Of The 1^st Battalion Duke Of

Cornwall’s Light Infantry Won The D.C.M. At La Bassee

           The men of the fair West Country have ever responded nobly when their Sovereign required their services, whether on land or sea, and many a mother in the ancient city of Bath is today mourning the loss of one or more of her sons.  Among them is Mrs. Arthur Dagger, two of whose three soldier sons, Sergeant Arthur Dagger, of the Somersetshire Light Infantry, and Corporal George, of the 1^st Battalion, Duke of Cornwall’s Light Infantry, have already given their lives for King and country.  But at least she has the consolation of knowing that they fought right valiantly, and that the younger, ere he fell, had won for himself a foremost place on the British roll of honour. 

             Corporal George Dagger’s D.C.M. was awarded him for gallant conduct in somewhat unusual circumstances.  During the fighting at La Bassee on December 16^th 1914, the company to which he was attached found themselves suffering many casualties from hand grenades discharged at them from what they had supposed to be an unoccupied trench, lying between our trenches and those of the enemy, at a distance of some fifty paces, but into which a number of German bomb throwers had contrived to crawl.  These enterprising gentry having at length been driven out, the officer in command of the Cornwall’s decided that the trench must be filled in without delay, otherwise the bomb throwers would be certain to return when darkness fell; and he called for volunteers to perform this dangerous duty.  Corporal George Dagger was the first man to offer himself, and having been placed in charge of the digging party, he crawled out to the trench and remained there for three hours until the work was finished, during the whole of which time he was exposed to a very heavy fire.

             Unhappily, Corporal Dagger did not live very long to wear his well-earned decoration, as he was killed early in the following April, not long after his return to the front from a brief visit to his wife at Northfleet, Gravesend.  In an interesting letter to the dead hero’s mother, published in a Bath Chronicle of April 17^th 1915, the widow writes: “I hope you will try and bear up, as I know you have lost one son already.  It is a terrible war.  I greatly sympathize with you, as I have lost a brother as well out there.  But I did hope and trust that my husband would come back.  I received a very nice letter from his officer, which gives George great praise.  All his officers speak well of him.  The chaplain of his regiment buried him, and a cross has been erected over his grave.  The officer has sent on his D.C.M. ribbon; he had it cut from his tunic.”

            A comrade of the deceased in the Cornwall’s Private R. B. Allen, writing from Flanders, also refers to Corporal Dagger’s death, and says: “He was killed by a sniper’s bullet o the 7^th of April, and we have laid him to rest in the grounds of a big chateau, and were are going to get flowers for his grave.”

How Major George Harold Absell Ing, Of The 2^nd Dragoon Guards

(Queen’s Bays), Won The D.S.O. At The Second Battle Of Ypres

            On the evening of Wednesday, May 12^th 1915, the 28^th Division which held that part of our line from a point northeast of Verlorenhoek to the Bellewaarde Lake, and which had been fighting continuously since April 22^nd, went into reserve, its place being taken by the 1^st and 3^rd Cavalry Divisions, under general de Lisle.  It was a difficult line to defend, since there were no natural advantages and our trenches were to a large extent recently improvised.  This cavalry were very speedily to discover to their cost, for early on the following morning a terrific bombardment began against their front, shells of every description raining down in a continuous stream.  The brunt of the bombardment fell on the 3^rd Division, and the 3^rd Dragoon Guards, I the 6^th brigade, were almost buried alive beneath the debris of their parapet.  But farther north, where the 2^nd Dragoon Guards were posted, close to the Ypres-Zonnebeke road, the shelling was also very heavy, and about 8 a.m. part of the regiment on their right began to retire, their trenches having been rendered untenable.  The retirement might easily have become a general one, had not a brave officer of the Queen’s Bays, Major Ing, at great personal risk, saved the situation.  Leaving his own trench, he ran out into the open road, standing there, with shells every moment bursting around him, stopped the retirement of some forty men and directed them to take shelter, some in shell holes and others in ditch beside the road on their flank.  By this prompt and gallant action, for which he was subsequently awarded the Distinguished Service Order, Major Ing rendered a most invaluable service.

How Bombardier George King, Of

The Royal Field Artillery,

Won the D.C.M. At Le Touquet

             No fact has been more strikingly demonstrated in the War than the really wonderful manner in which the British soldier has been taught to think and act for himself.  Unlike the German who is to often a mere machine, working only under the direction of his superior and destitute of the least initiative, our men never lack enterprise and resourcefulness, as the following incident, which occurred at Le Touquet, near Armentieres, on October 18^th 1914, will show.

             Towards noon on the day in question, the battery of the R.F.A. to which Bombardier George King belonged received orders to support the 10^th Infantry Brigade in their attack on the German position.  The major commanding the battery proceeded to the observation post, which was on the roof of a barn situated on the left bank of the river Lys, to observe and control the fire of his men, and Bombardier King accompanied him at his telephone operator.  On reaching the barn, it was found that the only way to get into communication with the first line trenches was to get a wire laid across the river, as no boat was available, Bombardier King recognized that the difficulty could only be overcome by swimming, and though the river was deep and rapid, he without a moment’s hesitation threw of his cap and tunic and picking up a coil of wire, plunged into the water and swam across.  On reaching the farther bank he had to ascend a slope on which high explosive shells from the German batteries were continually bursting, and make his way to within five hundred yards of the first line trenches, in order to connect the coil of wire he carried with the infantry wire.  But this dangerous task he accomplished without mishap, and the communication having been thus established, he ran down the slope, swam back to the barn, and resuming his cap and tunic, took up the telephone and occupied himself with despatching the observation officer’s instructions to the gunners.  In the course of the afternoon the barn was completely demolished by German shellfire, but happily none of the observation party was hit.

How Battery Quartermaster, Sergeant George Mitchell,

Of The Royal Field Artillery, Won The D.C.M.

            By the 18^th of September 1914, the worst of the fighting on the Aisne was over, and the battle so far as the British forces were concerned, had degenerated into sullen trench warfare, with little prospect of any important movement on either side.  On the part of the Germans, the operations resolved themselves into persistent bombardments by day and occasional infantry attacks by night.  In the matter of artillery, we were at a great disadvantage, for not only had the enemy far more guns than we possessed, but they had brought up their bug 8-inch howitzers, which they had used at Maubeuge Instead, therefore, of shelling the enemy’s trenches, our artillery was obliged to devote most of its time to keeping down the German gunfire, and it was only very rarely that it was able to take the offensive.

            On Monday, September 21^st, a day on which, to the great relief of our troops, who had been drenched to the skin by days of incessant rain, the weather took a turn for the better, the 135^th Battery, Royal Field Artillery, which during the advance to the Marne and Aisne, had been attached to our 1^st Cavalry Division as Horse Artillery, received orders to send a section of guns to report to the officer in command of a Battery of Royal Horse Artillery at the village of Paissy.  On arriving there, the officer in question informed Lieutenant Rogers, who was in charge of the section, that his battery had been so mercilessly shelled that he had been obliged to order the men to leave their guns and take shelter in caves in the cliffs, and told him that he had better take his guns back, as it would be simply suicide to go out into the open.  The section was on their way back to rejoin their battery, when a Staff Colonel of Artillery, who ordered them to return to Paissy, met them.  He and Lieutenant Rogers took the two guns into action in the open to the right of the village, and then proceeded to a haystack, from which they observed and corrected the firing, leaving the section in charge of Battery Quartermaster Sergeant George Mitchell.  Mitchell took the horses and the first line wagons into the village, and placed them under shelter of the cliffs, and then returned to the guns and took charge of one of them.

            The village of Paissy stands not far from a ridge where some of the most severe close fighting of the past week had taken place, and all over the No Man’s Land between the opposing lines the dead bodies of the German infantry were still lying in heaps where they had fallen. The guns had been placed in the open on some ploughed land, as there was no cover thereabouts to afford them concealment.  Behind them the ground was level for about twenty paces; then there was a drop of five or six feet into a sunken road, and on the far side of the road a steep grass slope.  This slope and the ground all round the guns were so pitted with shell holes that it resembled the lid of a pepperbox.

            The guns had not been long in action, when they were “spotted” by a German observation balloon, and while field guns shelled them with shrapnel from their front, two batteries of heavy howitzers enfiladed them from the direction of Cerny-en-Laon, the huge shells screaming through the air with a noise like the rush of an express train.  It may here be mentioned that two or three days later four 6-inch howitzer batteries, which Sir John French had asked for, arrived from England, but for every shell of this type that we were able to fire the Germans fired twenty.  Nevertheless, though shells were bursting all about them, Mitchell and his men gallantly kept their 18-pounders in action, and continued to fire for nearly two hours, when the task which had been allotted them-that of drawing the fire from some of our infantry who were digging themselves in a new position-having been performed, they were ordered to leave the and take shelter in the village.

            The order to retire came not a moment too soon, for scarcely had the men crossed the sunken road in their rear and begun to descend the slope, when a howitzer shell fell right upon one of the guns which they had just left, smashing it to pieces.  Had its crew been still working it, every one of them must have been instantly killed.  However the section was not to come off scathes that day, for though the fire of the British guns had been silenced, the salvos from the howitzer batteries continued, and our men had just reached the ammunition wagons which Mitchell had left in the village, when a shell struck the house outside of which one of them stood, blowing half the building down, burying the wagon beneath the falling masonry, and wounding five men. 

How Gunner George Leonard Pond Of The Royal Field Artillery,

Won The D.C.M. At The Battle Of The Aisne

            On Sunday, September 13^th, the 115^th Battery of the Royal Field Artillery crossed the Aisne with the main body of our army, and on the Monday night at dusk a section of guns pushed up the farther slopes to a stone quarry on the top of a hill about a mile beyond the village of Vendresse, to Support the right of the First Corps, which, after many hours stubborn fighting, had secured a position running from a point on the north east of Troyon to La Cour de Soupir.  Arrived at the quarry, the guns came into action and fired a few shells at the German trenches near the Chemim des Dames, the only reply being a shower of bullets, which whistled harmlessly over the gunners heads.

              About three o’clock on the morning of the 15^th, the remainder of the guns and wagons were brought up, though, as the ground hereabouts was far too rocky to be dug up, the only cover that could be contrived for them was a small bank of earth.  After an hour or so, the guns came into action and shelled the enemy’s position for a while, again without eliciting any reply from the German artillery.  Then the word was given to stand at ease, ad the gunners left their pieces to enjoy a chat with their infantry escort, composed of detachments from two battalions of the 1^st Brigade, the 1^st Scots Guards and the 1^st Black Watch.  Soon, however, the guns were booming again, and on this occasion the enemy’s artillery made ample amends for their previous silence.  For from behind a hill across the valley, not a mile away, a perfect tempest of shells of every description came screaming through the air, tearing immense holes in the rocks around them and sending the infantry scampering for what little cover was to be found.  The only substantial cover anywhere at hand was at the bottom of the hill; but as the sole means of getting there was a narrow lane, which was being simply swept by the enemy’s fire, it was courting death to attempt to reach it.  About forty horses to another battery were in this lane, in a terrible tangle; some of them had already been wounded, and all were frantic with terror.  Several of the men in charge of them had been killed, and though the survivors were making desperate efforts to get the horses away, they were too few to control the terrified animals, who were on the point of stampeding.  Observing the state of affairs, a gunner of the 115^th Battery, named George Leonard Pond, and three other men ran down to their assistance, and under the direction of one of their officers, who, though badly wounded, had remained on duty, they succeeded in preventing a stampede and in getting the horses under cover.  Many of the poor animals, however, had been so badly injured that they had subsequently to be destroyed.

            Pond then returned to his battery, whose 18-pounders had been p[luckily endeavouring, though with but scant success, to keep down the fire of the huge howitzers behind the opposite hill, but had now abandoned the task as hopeless, the major in command having been killed, and the captain stunned by a piece of shell.

             As he came up, he saw a “coal box” burst under the pole of an ammunition wagon, knocking the wagon over; but, hurrying forward, he picked up the shells that had fallen out, replaced them and closed the lid for safety.  This done, he reported himself to one of his surviving officers, and learned that all his comrades but two had reached cover at the foot of the hill.  The officer sent him down the hill to tell a sergeant to collect as many as possible and withdraw the guns and wagons by hand.  The right and left sections-four guns and four wagons were successfully removed without any casualties, although every few seconds the men had to leave them and make a bolt for cover to dodge the shells.  But it was not until darkness fell that the centre section could be got away, some of the wheels having been damaged.

How Second Lieutenant Gilbert Stuart Martin Insall, Of The No.11

Squadron Royal flying corps, Won The V.C. Near Achiet

            A splendid example of skill and intrepidity of our younger airmen was given on November 7^th 1915, near Achiet.  Second-Lieutenant Gilbert Stuart Martin Insall was patrolling in a Vickers fighting machine, accompanied by first-Class Air Mechanic J. H. Donald as gunner, when he sighted a German machine, which he at once pursued and attacked.  The German pilot cunningly led the Vickers machine over a rocket battery, but, with great skill, Lieutenant Insall dived and got to close range, when Donald fired a drum of cartridges into the German machine, which had the effects of stopping its engine.  The German pilot the dived through a cloud, followed by Lieutenant Insall, and Donald again opening fire, the German machine was brought down heavily in a ploughed field four miles southeast of Arras.  On perceiving the Germans scramble out of their machine and prepare to fire, Lieutenant Insall dived to five hundred feet, thus enabling Donald to open fire on them at close range.  The Germans thereupon took to their heels, one assisting the other, who was apparently wounded.  Other Germans at the daring enemy directed heavy rifle fire, but, in spite of this, Lieutenant Insall turned again, and an incendiary bomb was dropped on the German machine, which was last seen wreathed in smoke.  The victor then headed west, in order to return over the German trenches, but, as he was at an altitude of two thousand feet, he dived across them for greater speed, Donald firing into the trenches as he passed over.  The German fire, however, damaged the petrol tank, and with great coolness Lieutenant Insall landed under cover of a wood, five hundred yards inside our lines.  The German artillery started to shell our machine as it lay on the ground, and it is calculated that some one hundred and fifty shells were fired at it, but no material damage was done.  A good deal, however, had already been caused by rifle fire, but during the night it was repaired behind screened lights, and at dawn Lieutenant Insall flew his machine home. 

How Private H. J. Hastings, Of The 2^nd Battalion Oxfordshire And

Buckinghamshire Light Infantry, Won The D.C.M. Near Zonnebeke

            If, on July 23^rd 1914, anyone had informed Mr H. J. Hastings, then pursuing the peaceful occupation of a telegrapher at the Central Telegraph Office, Newgate Street, that on that day three months it would be his destiny to take the lives of no less than nine of his fellow men, and to feel not the least compunction for so doing, he would have enjoyed a hearty laugh at the prophet’s expense.  But then, on July 23^rd 1914, no one in Newgate Street dreamed that we were on the verge of the greatest war of modern times, and that in less than a fortnight the British Empire would be fighting for its very existence.

             On the outbreak of war, Mr. Hastings was one of the first to answer Lord Kitchener’s call for men, enlisting in the 2^nd Oxfordshire Light Infantry.  He went to France with one of the first drafts, saw service at the Battles of the Marne and the Aisne, had his trousers ripped above the knee by a fragment of shell and his water bottle smashed by a shrapnel bullet, and on the evening of October 23^rd found himself with his battalion entrenched near Zonnebeke, some five to the northeast of Ypres. 

            It had been a day of desperately hard fighting; the Germans, for the most part new levies, though mown down in swathes by our fire, coming on again and again with the utmost courage and determination, and it was not expected that the night would pass without a renewal of their attacks.  Private Hastings had already made something of a name for himself by his cool courage and the excellence of his marksmanship, and he and two other men entrusted with the task of holding a culvert over a brook and a narrow footpath connecting the enemy’s line with ours, From which screened the mouth of the culvert in direct front, but they had to hold the gaps on each bank.  Hastings, having been given a free hand, put up some barbed wire over their side and across the brook and built a sod barricade.

            Scarcely had these preparations been completed, when two companies of the enemy advanced to the attack.  He waited until they were almost level with him and he had them black against the sky, and then opened fire.  One of his comrades stood by to keep him supplied with ammunition, but by the time he had fired twenty-six rounds, the Germans had had enough of it and retreated.  On going out to ascertain the loss he had inflicted on them, he found nine Huns, one of whom was an officer. Lying dead and another wounded.  They were all from the 223^rd and 235^th Regiments-two corps raised since the outbreak of war-and most of them mere lads, in new uniforms.  With the assistance of another man he carried the wounded German into the British lines next day, together with five others, who had fallen in a previous attack.  They were very grateful, and one of them called him: “Kind Kamerad!”  Their friends in the German trenches were much less appreciative, for they fired upon Hastings and the other soldier.

            The next night the enemy made another attack, this time from a slightly different direction.  As the advance was beginning, Hastings saw two men approaching along the side of the brook, and under the impression that they were from his own battalion, he allowed them to come quite close, when he called out: “Hullo!  How many of you are out?”  One of the men looked up in surprise and said something in German, upon which Hastings fired at him; but, being so close, the bullet passed over his head. 

            The German immediately levelled his rifle, and he and Hastings fired together.  The Hun’s aim was bad, his bullet striking the bridge above, but the Englishman’s bullet took effect; and with an oath, his adversary fell and rolled into the brook, where he was drowned.  His comrade made off.

            The enemy’s attack that night was a very determined one, and they advanced to within twenty yards of our trenches before the withering fire, which they encountered, drove them back.  Hastings, on his part, accounted for a dozen, four of whom were killed; for, after the attack had been broken up, he crawled out to where the dead men were lying and got their shoulder straps with regimental numbers for information.  His “bag” in two nights thus totalled twenty-three, fourteen of whom would never see the Fatherland again, and he had thus taken a spacious revenge for the loss of a great friend and fellow telegraphers.  John Holder, who had been killed at his side a little while before.

How Squadron Sergeant Major Harry Croft, Of The 5^th Dragoon Guards,

Won The D.C.M. At Zillebeke

             At the end of February 1915, the 5^th Dragoon guards were in the trenches near Zillebeke, performing more or less cheerfully, the work of infantry, as they had been doing all through that long and dreary winter.

            Meantime, they themselves were receiving a lesson on the imprudence of yielding to a temptation to admire the landscape, whe the enemy’s trenches were not a hundred yards from their own, and there happens to be a wood affording admirable cover for snipers in between.  For whenever one of them chanced to raise his head above the parapet, a rifle, and as often as not two or three together, cracked

            Among the trees, and if he escaped with a bullet hole through his cap or an ugly furrow along his cheek, he might consider himself fortunate.

            The unwelcome attentions of the marksmen in the word were becoming a serious nuisance, and Squadron Sergeant Major Croft made up his mind to put a stop to it.  He did not believe that the shots came from isolated snipers, since it is seldom that two or more snipers fire almost simultaneously, as so frequently happened in this instance, and came to the conclusion that the Germans must have an advanced post somewhere in the wood.  Accordingly, on the afternoon of February 27^th, he went out to endeavour to locate it; but before he had penetrated more than a few yards into the wood he was seen and fired upon by the Germans, and obliged to return.  However, he had noted the direction from which the shots came, and that night he crept over the parapet of the British trench and crawled into the wood again.

             The task in which he had undertaken always very dangerous work-was rendered the more hazardous by the fact that there was a bright moon.  But, on the other hand the wood had been so damaged by shellfire, that fallen trees and broken branches were lying everywhere, and on a dark night it would have been almost impossible for him to move about without making a noise which would have attracted the enemy’s attention.

             Slowly and cautiously, Croft made his way through the wood, and had come within thirty yards of the German entanglements, without seeing any signs of an advanced post, when suddenly he heard voices quite close to him; and there, only a few paces ahead, was a trench filled with Germans.

             Croft had not brought his rifle with him, since it would have hampered his movements; but he had provided himself with a couple of revolvers, and drawing these, he took cover behind a tree and began blazing away at the astonished Germans.  Shrieks and curses told him that some at least of his shots had not been wasted, and in a minute or two the enemy, evidently under the impression that they had been surprised by a party of our men, got out of the trench and made off to their own lines as quickly as they could.  Nor do they appear to have returned it; anyway the 5^th Dragoon Guards had no longer any reason to complain of their unwelcome attentions.

How Commander Henry Peel Ritchie Won The V.C. At Dar-es-Salaam

              It is significant of the broad range of British naval power that although eleven Victoria Crosses had been won by officers and men of the fleet in the first two years of the war, the only one earned within two thousand miles of the British Isles was that of the unfortunate Flight Sub-Lieutenant Warneford for destroying a Zeppelin single handed at Brussels.  The very first naval V.C. of the war-the first, that is in point of winning, though not in the date of award-was won in the tropical East African port of Dar-es-salaam, where operations against the most prosperous of Germany’s colonial possessions, exceeding in area the whole of the German Empire in Europe, were begun at an early stage of the conflict.

            The hero of this notable exploit, so typical of the breed of men who man our fighting ships, was Commander Henry Peel Ritchie, a gunnery officer of some distinction and second in command of the battleship Goliath-which vessel, it may be recalled, was torpedoed and sunk by a Turkish destroyer in the Dardanelle’s in May 1915.  During the closing months of 1914 the Goliath was employed on the East Coast of Africa as a support for the cruisers employed in rounding up the German commerce-raider Konigsberg, and a detachment of her crew, under Lieutenant-Commander Paterson, was actually present when that vessel was at last located and barricaded in the lower reaches of the Rufigi River.  When this work had been accomplished, Commander Ritchie was detached from the Goliath and put in independent command of the armed auxiliary vessel Duplex, with instructions to proceed to Dar-es-Salaam and destroy any enemy vessels that might be found there.  It was known, not only that craft operating from this port had been used to keep the Konigsberg supplied with fuel and provisions while she was at sea, but also that they might be employed for running supplies down the coast to her now that she was interned.  The destruction of the Konigsberg had already been fully detailed in this work, and it may be remembered that although she was successfully “bottled up” in November 1914, it was not until the following July that there arrived from England the special, shallow draught monitors required for dealing with her in concealed positions. 

             Having arrived in the neighbourhood of the German port, Commander Ritchie at once set about the execution of his task.  It was impossible for such a large vessel as the Duplex to go into the harbour and examine the many creeks that led into it, and the Commander therefore fitted out a small steamboat with a maxim gun, protected her sides as best he could with the material at his disposal, and, on November 28^th made his way into the hostile haven and proceeded about his business, accompanied by two other tiny craft in support.  It was a day worthy in every respect of the name of the place-which means “Adobe of Peace”-for not only was the weather perfect, but, save for those three invading steamboats, there was not a sign of life to be seen.  This was a reception for which commander Ritchie and his men were altogether unprepared.  They had expected to have to fight every inch of the way, and it is still a secret in possession of the enemy why they were allowed to steam uninterruptedly round the harbour, sinking or irreparably damaging every floating thing they came across.

            Nevertheless, that is what happened.  Not a shot was fired while the work of destruction and demolition was in progress, although the pinnaces had to make their way into narrow creeks in which they might easily have been ambushed and enfiladed from either side.  Commander Ritchie however was not for taking any chances.  The absence of opposition struck him as altogether uncanny, and he scented a trap.  Therefore, when he had thoroughly scoured the main creek running into the harbour and sunk nearly everything in it, he appropriated two steel lighters, which he found there, and had them firmly lashed to the steamboat, one on either side.  The real effect of this was to convert the boat into a miniature armoured craft.  Besides that, the barges lay deeper in the water than the steamboat itself, and this too, was a most useful circumstance.  The character of the inner recesses of the harbour and of the creeks was by no means well known, and by lashing the boat between lighters of greater draught than itself it was assured that if the exploring party got into shallow water they would be the first to strike the bottom, leaving it possible for the steamboat to get safely away by cutting the lashings.

             Slowly and deliberately the strange and ungainly triptych made its way down the creek again and into the open harbour; and it was not until then that the troubles of the cutting out expedition began.  Why the defenders held themselves back so long we do not know, but at all events, they began to make up for some lost time as soon as Commander Ritchie’s queer looking craft passed out of the creek into the open.  A heavy fire was opened from every point of the compass.  From huts and houses, from wooded groves, from the hills surrounding the town, and even from the cemetery, came a hail of bullets and shells from rifles, machine guns and field pieces.  Had it not been for Commander Ritchie’s foresight in appropriating those two lighters for the protection of his little craft, it is quite certain that none of the party would have got back to the Duplex, and even as it was the defence proved hopelessly inadequate.  The enemy’s positions were cunningly concealed, and even if they could have been located the little maxim would have been useless against them. 

            Under the heavy fire many men were wounded more or less severely.  Commander Ritchie himself was one of the first to be hit, though not badly enough to have to give over the direction of operations; and when, shortly after, first Petty Officer Clark and then Able Seaman Upton were so severely injured that they had to leave their places at the steering wheel, the Commander himself took charge of it until his eighth wound knocked him out altogether.

            As the steamboat crossed the open waters of the harbour the enemy’s fire redoubled in intensity.  The single gun had long ago been disabled; Commander Ritchie was wounded in half a dozen places; Sub-Lieutenant Loyd had been placed hors de combat by a bullet that missed his heart only by a quarter of an inch; and most of the petty officers and men were injured more or less severely by rifle and maxim fire and flying splinters.  Nevertheless, the strange little craft stood gallantly on, and it was not until she was nearing the mouth of the harbour that the commander was compelled to give in, rendered unconscious through loss of blood.  As he fell from his post at the wheel, Petty Officer Clark, whose wound had been roughly bandaged stepped into it, and successfully piloted the steamboat out of the reach of the enemy’s fire and into the safety of the open sea.

              For his “most conspicuous bravery” Commander Ritchie was worthily awarded the Victoria Cross.  “Though severely wounded several times,” ran the statement in the London Gazette, “his fortitude and resolution enabled him to continue to do his duty, inspiring all by his example, until at his eighth wound he became unconscious.  The interval between his first and last severe wound was between twenty and twenty-five minutes.”  He was in fact wounded in the forehead, in the left hand (near the thumb, which is shortened in consequence), in the left arm (twice), the right arm, and the right hip, while the hits that finally bowled him over were two bullets through the right leg, which had been broken in two places five years before by an accident on service.  He was six weeks in Zanzibar Hospital, and then, rapidly recovering his fitness, returned to service in May 1915.

             Petty Officers Thomas James Clark received the Conspicuous Gallantry Medal for gallantry returning to the wheel after being wounded, and Able Seaman George Edward Upton, who was the first to relieve him after he was injured, was awarded the Distinguished Service Medal.  The last named, unfortunately, was lost when the Goliath was sunk.     

             Many other brave deeds were done in the course of these operations, in which the small armed vessel Helmuth and a steam cutter from the cruiser Fox were also engaged.  On one occasion the Fox’s cutter came under fire from both sides, and a stoker was mortally wounded.  In such a small craft the loss of a stoker means the loss of the only man appointed to keep the fires going, and if she had come to a standstill in her then precarious position there is little doubt that everyone onboard would have been killed.  In spite of the very heavy fire, therefore, Lieutenant Eric Reid Corson crept forward from the stern sheets, and, seizing the dying stoker’s shovel, proceeded to tend the fires and so brought the boat safely out of action.

How Captain Henry George Moreton Railston, Of The 1^st Battalion, Rifle

Brigade, Won The D.S.O. At The Grafenstapel Salient, Near Ypres

            On the night of April 28^th-29^th 1915, the 11^th Brigade composed of the London Rifle Brigade _Territorial), the 1^st Somersetshire Light Infantry, the 1^st Rifle Brigade and the 1^st Hampshire, dug themselves in on a new line, some five thousand yards in extent, in the very narrow salient by Grafenstafel, east of St. Julien, on the right of the northern section of our front.  Next day the brigade was badly shelled, the London Rifle Brigade alone losing one hundred and seventy men; while on the 30^th it had to face a German thrust from St. Julien which the Territorials drove back with machine gunfire.  During the two following days the Brigade enjoyed a period of comparative repose, though the whole of the afternoon of May 2^nd the German aeroplanes were continually hovering over their trenches, practically unmolested by our aeroplanes and anti-aircraft guns, which were engaged elsewhere.  No one doubted that his or her appearance heralded another tempest of shelling, and early on the following morning it duly burst.

            About 4a.m. on May 3^rd, Captain Henry George Moreton Railston, who was in command of a detachment of the 1^st Rifle Brigade which occupied a section of the first line trenches some two hundred yards in extent, had just lain down to snatch of hours sleep after a busy night in superintending the strengthening of the defences, when he was awakened by a sentry, with the news that the Germans were advancing all along our front, and were scarcely seven hundred yards distant.  Captain Railston had, the previous day, got the range of various pints between the opposing lines, and, springing to his feet he, passed it down the trench, and the “Greenjackets” opened fire on the advancing masses.  He himself picked up a rifle and brought down a German officer and two of the men whom he was leading; but his satisfaction at this success was discounted by his own servant, who was “spotting” for him, being shot dead at his side.  Directly afterwards some of the German heavy guns opened a tremendous enfilading fire on our trenches from behind two houses on our right flank, blowing down both the parapet and the parados of the trench, and next demolishing the traverses one after another.  A battery of German field guns then came into action on a ridge opposite our lines, about seven hundred yard distant, and as each traverse crumbled into dust before the fire of the heavy guns, proceeded to pour a rain of shrapnel upon the unfortunate occupants of the shattered trenches.  Captain Railston reported the desperate condition of affairs to Battalion Headquarters by telephone, the wires of which were shortly afterwards cut and all further communication suspended.  The men about him were now falling fast, and presently a shell burst in his own traverse, in the midst of five men.  The outer pair on each side was killed, but, marvellous to relate, the centre man, though knocked down by the concussion, was uninjured.  All the men who were unwounded worked like heroes-some firing, other bandaging the hurts of their injured comrades, and to hers again collecting the ammunition from bandoliers of the killed and wounded and laying it under the parapet, in readiness for those who were still left to use.

           All this time the shelling was continuous and very accurate, every shell taking effect on some part of the trench.  From our own artillery there was no reply at al.  What few guns we had hereabouts had apparently been put out of action.

            The trench was soon in a fearful state; most of the parapet and parados had been levelled almost with the ground, while the traverses had been blown down, and were choked with earth, water, dead and wounded, equipments, ammunition and so forth.

            The Germans were, meanwhile advancing all along our front, and concentrating in considerable numbers on some dead ground among the standing crops, which we had not time to level, about two hundred and fifty or three hundred yards away.  Those directly in front of the trench apparently numbered from six hundred to eight hundred.  Captain Railston was kept very busy bandaging the wounded, giving morphia to the bad cases, and collecting their ammunition, with the assistance of the only man left alive in his traverse.  About 10 a.m. it was reported to him that scarcely a man remained unwounded in the right section of the trench.  In his own part of it there was only one rifleman and two signallers beside himself and soon afterwards a shell burst in the signallers dug out, blowing one man to bits and badly wounding the other.  He looked about for the last remaining rifleman to help him to lift the injured signaller into his own dug out, which was still intact, though full of wounded men, and found that he, too had been hit.  He bandaged up the signaller and gave him some morphia, and then found that he was all alone.  Not a single man was in sight, or at least, not a man capable of keeping his feet.  He worked his way along the debris of the trench to his left, intending t find where the nearest men were, and of getting a message through to Battalion Headquarters, and finding three of his men about fifty yards along the trench, sat down and talked to them for some time, the shelling being too heavy jut then for anyone to move about at all.  Presently, when it temporarily subsided a little he made his way along further to the left, and found the remnant of two and a half platoons of Territorials, who were attached to his company.  They told him that they had had their two officers killed, and all their N.C.O.’s and half of their men either killed or wounded.  He found their captain, who had been hit through the head, not quite dead, and was proceeding to do what little he could for him, when a shell struck the parapet, blowing it in on top of the two officers, and they had to be dug out.  When he had been extricated from the debris, the unfortunate Territorial captain was dead.

           Captain Railston remained with the remnant of the Territorials for some time, as they had no officers or N.C.O.’s left and was very disheartened.  He ordered them to fix bayonets and get their ammunition out, so as to be in readiness to repel an attack, and told them that there were large reinforcements on their way up, and that all would soon be well. He then made another attempt to get into touch with Battalion Headquarters, and working further along the trenches, came upon three men of the next company in a trench on his side of a gap of ten yards in the parapet.  They reported that there was not a man of their company left alive on the other side of the gap.  The shelling became again too hot for him to move, and the German guns had the range of the gap to a yard, as many of the less severely wounded men were trying to make their way along the trench and over a small barricade by this gap to the dressing station, which brought them in view of the battery on the ridge.  Captain Railston remained with the three men, all squatting in a very narrow and none too deep trench, while all the wounded men who could manage to crawl came along the trench behind them and across the gap, in order to reach the dressing station.  Many of them were killed in making the attempt.  The three men with whom he had previously stayed and the remainder of the Territorials were soon al killed and wounded, leaving a gap of four hundred yards of trench unoccupied save by himself and these three men, two of whom were killed in the evening.  The Germans continued to rain shrapnel upon the trench, and in particular upon the gap, and many of the men lying badly wounded near it were wounded again or killed outright.  Captain Railston was himself wounded by a piece of shrapnel in the fleshy part of his arm, and had eight holes made by shrapnel in the back of his khaki jacket as he stooped down in the trench.  Between bouts of shelling he and his three comrades kept on shooting at the advancing Germans, running up and sown the trench and firing several rounds of rapid whenever an advance was attempted, by which ruse they succeeded in deluding the enemy into the belief that it was still well defended.

            About midday the shelling abated, and an orderly threw a message wrapped round a stone cross the gap to Captain Railston.  The message asked for a report of the situation, and he wrote one and threw it back.  About an hour later some men began to crawl across the gap to reinforce the brave quartet, a manoeuvre that Captain Railston in the message that they had just sent had reported as impossible.  The first seven men were all immediately killed or wounded, upon which Captain Railston ordered the others not to attempt to cross the gap and to retire.  About 2.30 p.m. he decided that his last report had probably failed to reach Battalion Headquarters, and determined to try and get across the gap, on order to make his way with her and report personally.  This he succeeded in doing in safety, being the only man who had crossed it without being hit.  The trench on the rather side was so blocked up with mud and water and dead and wounded men, that he could only make his way along it at intervals.  So he crawled along the ground behind the trench, reached the battalion headquarters dug out and reported the situation.

            At dark-about 8 p.m.- a battalion came up to support the few survivors in the battered trenches, and between two and three hours later, in accordance with a prearranged plan the whole British force, with the exception of the 12 Brigade on our left, which was the pivot of the operation, retired to a new position in the rear, the occupation of which, by abandoning the untenable salient greatly strengthened our line.

            Captain Railston and what was left of his command marched from 10.30 p.m. to 4 a.m. the next morning, the latter part of the journey being performed in a deluge of rain.

            The past week had certainly been a sufficiently eventful one for Captain Railston, he having had several of the narrowest escapes fro death imaginable.  On April 26^th two bullets passed through his cap.  On the 27^th a shell burst in his dug out, burying him under three feet of earth and debris, but providentially leaving his mouth and nose, across which a board had fallen, free, so that he was able to breathe.  His burberry, which he was using as a pillow, was riddled through and through with holes; his pack, which was underneath the burberry, had a huge hole in it, and most of his equipment was smashed to pieces.  He was wounded very slightly in the knee by a piece of shell; otherwise, he was dug out intact.  O the 28^th he had another narrow shave, a bullet passing through the pocket of his coat.

            Captain Henry George Moreton Railston, whose splendid gallantry and coolness throughout the terrible ordeal, which we have just described, was recognised by the Distinguished Service Order being conferred upon him, is a son of Colonel Henry Edward Railston (formerly of the Cameronians), of Fosse House.  Stow on the wold, Gloucestershire.  He was born in 1885, educated at Wellington College and Sandhurst, and entered the 1^st Rifle Brigade in 1904, becoming Captain in October 1913.  From March of that year until the outbreak of war he acted as adjutant to the 5^th Battalion.

How Private Henry Devenish Skinner, Of The 14^th South Otaga Regiment,

N.Z.R., Won The D.C.M. At Chunuk Bair, Gallipoli

            At the beginning of august 1915, the British Headquarters Staff at Gallipoli, having received intelligence that the Turks were massing forces for a new attack, resolved to anticipate them by a great offensive movement.  The plan adopted involved four separate actions.  In the first place, a feint was to be made at the head of the Gulf of Saros, as if to take the Bulair lines in both flank and rear.  Next a strong offensive would be assumed by the troops in the Cape Helles region against their old objective, Achi Baba.  These two movements were intended to induce the Turks to send their reserves to Krithia, and enable the left wing of the Anzac Corps to gain the heights of Koja Chemen and the seaward ridges, and a great new landing to be effected at Suvla Bay.  If the Anafarta hills could be captured, and the right of the new landing force succeed in linking up with the Australasian left, with any reasonable good fortune, it could be a mater of time before the western end of the peninsula would be in our hands, and the European defences of the Narrows at our mercy.

             The great movement began in the afternoon of August 6^th, with a general attack by the Allied forces at Cape Helles upon the Turkish position at Achi Baba.  At 4.30 p.m.; when this action had well started the 1^st Australian Brigade advanced to the attack of the formidable Turkish trenches on the Lone pine Plateau, a position which commanded one of the main sources of the enemy’s water supply, and rushing across the open, amidst a veritable hail of shell and bullets from the front and from either flank with irresistible dash and daring, carried them with the bayonet, and what is more, maintained their grip upon them like a vice during six days of counter attacks!    

            Magnificent as was this achievement, it was in essence only a feint to cover the movements of General Godley’s New Zealand and Australian Division on the left, which, as night was falling, began its march up the coast towards the heights of Koja Chemen.  This force was divided into right and left covering columns and right and left columns of assault.  With the right column of assault, which was under the command of Brigadier General Johnston, and was to push up the ravines against the Chunuk Bair ridge, were the 14^th South Otagos, and in the ranks of the South Otagos marched Private Henry Devenish Skinner, the hero of the gallant deed which we are about to relate.

            By ten o’clock on the morning of the 7^th-a day of blistering heat-the gallant New Zealanders had carried the hog’s back known as the Rhododendron Ridge, just to the west of Chunuk Bair, and a dawn on the 8^th, having been reinforced by the 7^th Gloucester’s and the 8^th Welsh (Pioneers)-two of the battalions of the New Army-the Maori contingent and the Auckland Mounted Rifles, they advanced to the assault of the crest of Chunuk Bair, and, after a desperate struggle, carried that also, and through a gap in the hills were able to catch a glimpse of the blue waters of the Dardanelle’s.  But our losses had been very great, the Wellington Battalion, which had marched out of the Anzac lines on the 6^th seven hundred strong, being now reduced to fifty-three, while the 7^th Gloucester’s, in the words of Sir Ian Hamilton, “consisted of small groups of men commanded by junior non-commissioned officers and privates,” every single officer and senior N.C.O. having been either killed or wounded.

            That night the 14^th South Otagos received orders to take over the trenches just on the reverse side of the crest of Chunuk Bair, and scrambled up the slopes in the dark, through the midst of the dead and wounded who littered them.  Immediately on reaching the trenches, Private Skinner was sent by a captain of the Sherwood Foresters to find the headquarters of the South Otagos and deliver a message.  On the way he was three times stopped and covered in mistake for a Turk, but he delivered his message and returned safely, stumbling repeatedly over the dead as he walked.  During the night the battalion repulsed a counter attack and dug themselves deeper in.  Towards dawn Skinner caught sight of a small fire just in front of our lines, which he though might be attracting the enemy’s fire, and having passed the word down the trench several times that he was going out to extinguish it, in order to prevent his comrades shooting him under the impression that he was a Turk, he crawled out, accompanied by his chum, Gus Levett.

            On reaching the fire they found that it was a dead man burning-the head thrown back towards them, the eyes staring, the white face covered with dust, and the fists tightly clenched above the chest, which was burning with a small livid flame.

            At that moment one of their own comrades fired at them at a range of ten or fifteen yards, the bullet grazing Levett’s check and striking the ground between Skinner’s hands and knees, throwing up sand and dust.  They crawled back and worked until dawn, strengthening their defences.  Then came a violent bomb attack, during which skinner crawled out of the trench and lay just behind the parados.  This was followed by an infantry charge, which the New Zealanders drove back with rifle fire.  A wounded man, who was lying exposed to the fire of the enemy’s snipers a hundred yards from the trench, lost his reason and attempted to shoot himself; but one of the Anzacs, at great risk to himself, most gallantly ran out and took his rifle from him.  An elderly man in a trench behind them also lost his senses and kept firing wildly over their heads.

            The Turkish artillery shelled them heavily, and shrapnel about four inches above the knee tore the left leg of Skinner’s knickers, and his leg grazed.  A sniper, some sixty yards off, who had already killed about a dozen of the New Zealanders, fired at him, the bullet smashing his bayonet, which lay across his temple, knocking him down, and wounding him on the top of the head.  The wound, though a slight one, bled a good deal.

            It was now about three o’clock in the afternoon.  At 10 a.m. reinforcements had arrived, but since that time no one had been able to cross the fire swept ground between the troops on the crest of Chunuk Bair and their supports at Apex.  A second detachment had been set up, but had vanished under the terrible shrapnel, machine gun and rifle fire concentrated upon them into a hollow on the right of the slope, where it was supposed they were still.  The New Zealanders had no water and were suffering terribly from thirst, and were exhausted by their desperate exertions of the past two days, and, unless reinforcements reached them, their prospect of retaining the ground they had won was very slight.  The officer commanding the South Otagos wished to send back a dispatch to Divisional Headquarters at Apex, and a captain wanted a message conveyed to the reinforcements who were believed to be in the hollow.  He called for a volunteer, and Skinner at once afforded himself.  Crawling to the end of the trenches, he made a dash across a stretch of fairly level ground, which ended in a gully, where he would be comparatively safe.  The sniper, whose bullets had so nearly cut short his career a little while before, was on the alert, and immediately let drive at him, but failed to hit him, and he reached the shelter of the gully with no worse mischief than the loss of his hat.  This gully, in which our men had suffered terrible losses, was so choked with dead and wounded that he had to pick his way amongst them.  The Ghurkas, three days dead, were ghastly sight.  Skinner saw a New Zealander in a sitting position, but quite dead.  He met a friend there, shot through the leg and through the lungs, but still cheerful.  Many of the wounded were delirious; one cried for warm milk; almost all were calling for help.  He took one man’s water bottle to get water from a well.  Lower down some of the wounded told him that he could not leave the gully, as the Turks held its lower end and had snipers on the watch for anyone who attempted to climb out.  He took the water bottle back unfilled, and began to climb up the long, steep slope, which led to the hollow.  About half way up the snipers opened fire upon him, and he started to run, bounding along so as to dodge the bullets, and reaching the hollow, where the reinforcements to whom he was to deliver his message were supposed to be, and flung himself flat on the ground.  On recovering his breath, he looked about him for the reinforcements, but the only troops he saw were an officer and some twenty or thirty men belonging t an English regiment-all stone dead!  A couple of milk cans filled with water for the firing line lay amongst them.

            As he lay there alone with the dead, shrapnel burst just above him, and he knew it would be unsafe to remain longer.  So leaving this gruesome hollow, he began to run down the slope towards Apex.  Scarcely had he shown himself than a Turkish machine gun opened fire and played upon him for the whole of the one hundred and fifty yards which lay between him and safety, while he was also exposed to a heavy rifle fire.  But, marvellous to relate, he was not touched, and Divisional Headquarters presently beheld a hatless young man, with a blood stained bandage round and over his head, his face streaked with dry blood, and the left leg of his knickers torn almost to shreds, come panting up with a torn scrap of paper-the all important dispatch for which this heroic New Zealander had so readily risked his life clutched tightly in his right hand.

How second Lieutenant Henry Morrant Stanford, Of The Royal Field

Artillery, Won The Military Cross At Neuve Chapelle And Rouges

Bancs.

             The splendid work of the officers in charge of the forward observation stations of our artillery-work frequently performed under the most perilous and trying conditions imaginable-has been recognized by the award of a number of honours to these brave men.  Probably one of the youngest to be thus distinguished is second-Lieutenant Henry Morrant Stanford, of the 32^nd Battery R.F.A., who received the Military Cross, “for consistently gallant conduct both at Neuve Chapelle and again, on May 9^th 1915, during the operations near Rouges Bancs.”

            On March 10^th 1915, the British captured the village of Neuve Chapelle-or what had once been a village, since so terrific had been our artillery preparation, that in parts it was now only a rubbish heap and our front was advanced a full mile.  But our ultimate objective-the possession of the Aubers Ridge and, with it, the driving of a great wedge into the German line-had still to be accomplished; and the enemy held the bridge heads of the Des Layes, which flows between Neuve Chapelle and the ridge, the Bois du Biez, a considerable wood mainly of saplings, on the other side of the river, and strong positions around the village of Pietre and the neighbouring cross roads, and so covered the approach to Aubers.

            Since no further advance could be attempted until our artillery had cleared the way, as it had done so effectively on the preceding day, early on the morning of the 11^th our guns directed their fire towards the Bois du Biez the positions around Pietre; and it fell to the duty of Second-Lieutenant Stanford to lay a telephone wire from his battery across country to Neuve Chapelle village, since all the other wires had been cut by shellfire, or else the observing officer at the end of them had been killed.  This dangerous task he successfully accomplished, with the assistance of a bombardier and two other men, and then proceeded to the observing station, a tall and very much battered house in Neuve Chapelle, which in happier times had been used as a school.  Here he took up his post on the top storey, and remained there during the greater part of the day, observing the effect of his battery’s fire and shouting his directions to the telephone orderly, who waited on a ladder beneath him.

             From his post he could see the British front line trenches, situated about one hundred yards away on the south-eastern outskirts of the village and eight hundred yards beyond them, across open fields, those of the enemy, while two or three hundred yards behind these was the Bois du Biez, where more than one German battery was concealed.  He was far from being allowed to perform his work unmolested, for the enemy soon became aware that the house was being used as an observation station, and at times it was pretty badly shelled, while rifle bullets pattered frequently against the outer walls.

            In the course of the day the telephone wire was cut in several places, and the lieutenant and a gunner went out to repair it.  They were on a hedged road, with a couple of partially ruined houses on either side, when four 6-inch shells came along, two of which landed on the houses on their right and two on those on their left.  They had a narrow escape, but coolly went on their work, and notwithstanding that the first shells were soon followed by others, mended six other breaks before they left this very unhealthy spot. 

How Captain Herbert Davies Of The 1/8^th Battalion Royal Warwickshire

 (T.F.) Regiment, Won The Military Cross

            It is probably given only to those who have actually been at the Front and are acquainted with the conditions that prevail there to appreciate fully all that is implied in the wording of the official announcement of the award of the Military Cross to Captain Herbert Davies, of the 1/8^th Warwick’s; “for conspicuous gallantry and resource on many occasions when on patrol duty in front of the trenches, and notably on the night of June 20^th-21^st 1915, when he carried out a very daring reconnaissance close to the River Douve.  From his knowledge of German he obtained very valuable information from the enemy’s conversation, after passing over ground lit by flares and constantly swept by gunfire.”  We have here a record of a single act of bravery, and testimony to conspicuous gallantry and resource “on many occasions,” and under conditions calculated to test the nerve and resolution of the boldest of men to the uttermost.  For it is one thing in the heat and excitement of battle, when possibly there is not time for any but lightning reflection, to perform a brave and noble action, and quite another to go forth, in the dead of night, from the shelter of one’s trench in the No Man’s Land lying between the opposing lines and confront the unknown dangers that lurk there.  All soldiers will agree that the latter is by far the more trying experience.

            In trench warfare the night is always the most anxious and trying time.  During the day, save for intermittent shell and rifle fire and the ever present danger from snipers, things are not so terrifying; indeed, an occasional daylight visit to the trenches might leave the impression that, when not engaged in making or repelling an attack, the men were reasonably safe.  But with the fall of night the sentries in the trenches are increased, and each side sends out patrols to its front, for the purpose of guarding the ground in the immediate vicinity of its own wire entanglements, lest the enemy should make an attempt to cut them, or be permitted to draw near enough to hurl bombs or grenades into the trenches.  It was not, however, to patrolling of this nature that Captain Davies devoted his attention, but to what is understood as reconnaissance.  At nightfall he would leave his trench, make his way through our own barbed wire, and with infinite caution advance towards he German lines.  In order to do this, he had often to pass around parties of Huns as well as screens of the enemy, consisting of groups of two or three, a few yards apart from each other.  Having successfully evaded these, he had then to negotiate the German wire entanglements before being able to crawl near enough to the enemy’s parapet to overhear the conversation that was going on, or a favourite practice of his bomb the astonished occupants previous to his own withdrawal.

            If it were a most difficult and dangerous under taking to reach the enemy’s parapet, it was infinitely more so to return to the British lines after throwing bombs, for the explosion in their trench would, of course, show the Germans that at least one of the foe was close to their parapet of wire.  For with, a fierce rifle and machine gun fire would be turned upon the particular sector involved; flares of the parachute and other varieties would be thrown up to illuminate the ground; the German patrols and sentry screens knowing that their vigilance had been at fault, and that their line had been pierced would be on the acutest qui vive, and hours of danger, doubling and nerve strain would have to be endured by the daring scout before he could reach the British trenches.

            On one occasion, in June 1915, Captain Davies went on a reconnaissance, starting shortly after sundown and not returning until just before “Stand-to.”  It was in the neighbourhood of Messines, and the object of his expedition was to determine the nature of certain works upon which the Germans were suspected of being engaged.  The opposing trenches hereabouts were some three to four hundred yards apart; those of the enemy being situated on the Messines ridge and overlooking ours.  About midway between the lines, but, at the point from which Captain Davies started, somewhat nearer to the British, a small river ran through a slight dip in the ground, which was mostly broken meadowland, the grass being from four to six inches long.

             Flattened to earth, the daring officer began to wriggle his way through the grass.  Before starting, he had divested himself of his cap and tunic, and was dressed only in shirt, riding breeches and gaiters.  For arms, he carried two “Savage” magazine revolvers, one in either hand.  The night, though fine, was exceptionally dark, and the maintenance of direction consequently very difficult. However, he crossed the river, and made his way successfully to the German lines, and having accomplished his mission, started to crawl back again.  Unfortunately, having of necessity to pursue a serpentine course in order to avoid the German sentries, he lost his bearings, and presently discovered that, instead of making for the river, he had worked back towards another part of the enemy’s trenches.  Just then, happening to glance aside, he found himself face to face with a couple of German sentries, who lay motionless upon the grass within a few paces of him.  One, who wore a soft Bavarian cap, was lying with his elbows on the ground and his head resting on his hands; the other, quite flat, with his chin on his hands.  At the same moment the Huns caught sight of the British officer, and snatched at their rifles, while Captain Davis, resting his elbows on the ground, levelled his revolvers.  In the circumstances the Germans had no chance, and before they could even raise their weapons the revolvers had spoken and decided the matter.

            The shots, of course, put the Huns on the alert, and Captain Davies had a pretty exciting time of it; but eventually he succeeded in reaching our lines, to the great relief of his company, who had begun to fear that he had been either killed or made prisoner.

            On another occasion, this time during the day, the trench on the left of that occupied by Captain Davies Company was shelled with exceptional violence, and a considerable number of our brave fellow men lay out.  Together with another officer, Lieutenant Richardson, Captain Davies, who had formerly been in medical practice, courageously volunteered to cross the open ground that separated the two trenches-a distance of from sixty to eighty yards and succour the wounded.  The danger of the undertaking may be gauged from the fact that the German trenches at this point formed a kind of semi circle and overlooked the two British trenches, which faced the centre of this semicircle, so that anyone going from one trench to the other would be in full view of the whole of this sector of the German lines.     

            Having provided themselves with large satchels, containing dressings, chloroform, and surgical instruments, which they slung over their shoulders, the two officer set out, being joined just as they left the trench by a third officer, a young second-lieutenant.  Their appearance in the open was the signal for a storm of bullets and rifles and machine guns, and before they had covered a third of the distance, the second lieutenant was shot through the calf of the left leg.  Captain Davies at once stopped, and kneeling beside his comrades, with bullets buzzing continually past his head, quickly removed the puttee from the injured leg and dressed the wound.  Then leaving the wounded officer under the care of Lieutenant Richardson, in a spot where some odd sandbags afforded them partial cover, he took the latter’s satchel and continued his perilous journey alone.

            The worst part of it came at the finish, when, to gain the trench, he had to cross an open road with a ditch on either side, which was set by machine gun fire.  The ditches were crossed by planks, but Captain Davies only made use of that across the nearest one, when, having gained the road, he rushed across it and took a flying leap over the farther ditch.  That leap probably saved his life, for, though he was unwounded, he had had a marvellous escape, as his clothes were afterwards found to have been torn in several places by bullets, and had he turned aside to cross the second plank, he would almost certainly have been killed.

            Having gained the trench, Captain Davies was occupied for several hours in attending the wounded, some of whom had sustained terrible injuries, one unfortunate man having no less than fourteen, including a fractured jaw, a compound fracture of one of his arms, and abdominal wounds.  In the absence of a medical officer, Captain Davie’s services were invaluable, and more than one man probably owed his life to his skill and care. 

            Instances might be multiplied of the extreme daring, coolness and resource of one who may be regarded as having no superior as a fearless scout.  No one, in fact, could more fully justify the encomium of the Gazette: “Conspicuous gallantry and resource on many occasions.”

            It is this same gallant officer who has had the distinction of being the subject of an article entitled, “The Skipper: a Sketch from the Front,” in Punch, of August 11^th 1915, from which we extract the following:

            “Like all great men, he has characteristics peculiar to himself, but does not affect the monocle-for which we were devoutly thankful.  His principal hallmark was a riding crop, from which he never parted.  But we had to get to the trenches, and in front of them, for the Skipper to come into his own.  None of us could understand why but he seemed to regard the ground between our trenches and those of the Germans as peculiarly and exclusively his.  He knew German like a native, and in season and out of season, in wet weather or fine, with the falling of the shades f night came the call of adventure to him, and off he would go, sometimes with an escort for some of the distance, and often without, and we would lose sight and knowledge of him till possibly startled by the sound of exploding bombs and hurried firing of rifles, at which happening our senior subaltern (whose love for the skipper exceeds the love of women) would proceed to a sap head to await tidings, and later welcome and heave a heavy sight of relief as the rotund and muddied figure of the Captain Loomed into sight.

            “It would require a book to detail all the adventures of the Skipper in Tom Tiddler’s Ground-as we called it.  His lonely scrap with the big German patrol he dismissed quite briefly.  The bombing of enemy listening posts was too common a feat to deserve notice.  What, however, was more to his taste was a visit to the enemy trench, when he bombed a complete section and brought back as trophies the contents of an enemy’s pockets, the enemy’s rifle, several hair brush bombs, and what was of a greater import, valuable documents and correspondence.

            “For months past we have said to ourselves, ‘What of the Skipper?’  And now, lo and behold, we have it in black and white.  He has been awarded the Military Cross.  What deeds we are wondering, must be done that shall merit the D.S.O.?  What must attain to merit a Victoria Cross?”

The Hopeless Fight Of The Little “Pegasus” With The “Konigsberg”

            Some of the noblest deeds of heroism in British history have been performed in the face not only of heavy odds, but the certain defeat; and not the least of these was the plucky but hopeless fight, which the little Pegasus put up against the German cruiser Konigsberg.

            The Pegasus was a third class cruiser, of 2,125 tons, launched in 1897.  During the opening weeks of the war she had done much good service on the East Coast of Africa, destroying the German port of Dar-es-Salaam, and sinking a gunboat and a floating dock in the harbour.  She had too, made a special point of searching for the Konigsberg, a German vessel of 3,350 tons, launched in 1905, and carrying ten 4.1-inch 35 ½ -pounder guns against the eight 4-inch 25-pounders of the Pegasus.  While out at sea the two vessels had often been in wireless touch, and the Pegasus had urged the enemy to come and make a square fight of it; but to no purpose.  The Konigsberg preferred to keep her distance.

            Then, the Pegasus being an old ship, with machinery that had always been troublesome, there came a time only a few weeks after the outbreak of war-when she had to go into harbour to pull herself together.  In the middle of September 1914, she steamed into Zanzibar and came to anchor.  All the fires were allowed to die out, for the boilers were sadly in need of cleaning, while the engines stood in need of many minor repairs.

            There is good authority for the statement that the Pegasus had no sooner come to anchor than the owner of a native dhow, bribed with a gift of two hundred rupees, left the port to convey the intelligence to the German cruiser.  However that may be, at daybreak on Sunday, September 20^th 1914, the Konigsberg appeared off the entrance to the port of Zanzibar, and quickly settling the account of a little tug boat that was employed as a patrol, opened her broadside on the Pegasus from a distance of nine thousand yards.

           Onboard the Pegasus everyone was at his war station in a minute; but it would have taken hours to get up steam from her cold boilers and unlighted furnaces, and she had to do her best as and where she stood.  She was absolutely outclassed fro the start.  Her guns, though almost equal in calibre to those of the German cruiser, were obsolete by comparison, and the Konigsberg was able to shell her from a distance, which her 4-invh guns could not cover.  For twenty-five minutes the Konigsberg poured in her relentless broadsides, steaming slowly until she had reduced the range from nine thousand to seven thousand yards; and still the shell of the Pegasus failed to reach her.  The shot fell harmlessly into the water hundreds of yards short of the enemy cruiser.

            The poor little Pegasus was in a bad way from the start.  The enemy’s shooting was not good, but with the advantage of range they were able to take their own time, and the British ship soon began to suffer severely.  One of the first to be hit was the gunnery officer, Lieutenant Richard Turner, whose legs were shattered by a shell.  As he lay stricken and bleeding to death his thoughts were all for the honour of his ship and his service.  “Keep it up lads,” he called to his men.  “We’re outclassed and done for; but d--- them, and keep it up!”

            So, having asked for brandy and a cigarette, Lieutenant Turner died; but the men “kept it up.”  In fifteen minutes all the guns of the Pegasus had been silenced, and not one of their shells had reached the enemy, whose guns had a range greater by two thousand yards.  The cruiser’s flag was shot away from his staff.  Instantly a Marine ran forward, seized the flag, and waved it aloft; and when he was struck down another came and took his place.  The flag flew until the end.

            There was no braver man that day than the medical officer of the Pegasus, Staff Surgeon Alfred J. Hewitt.  Nearly al the casualties occurred on deck, and there he was from the start to the finish, giving what help he could to the wounded men.  On one occasion he was holding a ruptured artery in the neck of one man, and, with his other hand, staunching the flow of blood in the leg of another, while his assistants went for bandages.  He could do nothing to help in the fighting, but there was certainly no braver man in the ship. 

            When she had fired about two hundred shells, the Konigsberg withdrew, leaving the Pegasus a battered and fast sinking wreck.  At the beginning of the action there were 234 officers men onboard the British vessel, and of these 35 were killed and 53 wounded.  The proportion of casualties was high; but it would have been greater if the Konigsberg had had sufficient pluck to say and carry on with her work.  She left it half finished, apparently fearing the approach of British vessels from the seaward.

How Sergeant Horace Albert Shooting Thompson, Of The Royal Field Artillery

Won The D.C.M. Near Neuve Chapelle

             On a fine day at the beginning of Aril 1915, the 64^th Battery, Royal Field Artillery, were indulging in a rest at the rear of their gun position, a little to the southwest of Neuve Chapelle.  Their guns were concealed behind a row of tall trees, which they fondly imagined effectively screened them from the wire of the observation posts of the German Artillery.  On this matter, however, they were soon to be disillusioned, for presently an 11-inch shell came screaming through the air, and passing over the battery, burst in a field behind it.  The men immediately jumped up and ran to their guns, just as a second shell fell a little way off on their left front.  The German battery had evidently not yet got the range, but they found it right enough with the next shell, which alighted in the middle of the British position, wounding Sergeant Thompson in the inside of the right knee, and two of his gunners also, and blowing out the back of an ammunition wagon, which is set on fire.

            Recognizing that there was not a moment to lose, since, if the flames reached the ammunition a frightful explosion would follow, Sergeant Thompson, notwithstanding the pain of his wound, at once hurried to the burning wagon and assisted by the major in command of the battery, began removing the shells.  The risk they ran was terrible; indeed, it was a kind of race with death.  But, happily they won, and succeeded in removing all the ammunition beyond the reach of the flames.

How Bandsman Thomas Edward Rendle, Of The 1^st Duke Of Cornwall’s

Light Infantry, Won The Victoria Cross At Wulverghem

            By the middle of November 1914, the first battle of Ypres was over, and the tide of the German attack had receded and lay grumbling and surging beyond the defences which it had so lately threatened to overwhelm.  But if the infantry on either side were now comparatively inactive, the artillery bombardment still continued with varying intensity, and day and night hundreds of shells were bursting along the length of each line, and scores of men were being killed and wounded.

            It was a fine frosty morning at the beginning of a cold “snap” which had succeeded several days of snow and rain, and the 1^st Cornwalls, in their trenches near Wulverghem, were beginning to congratulate themselves that they were at length able to keep dry.  “It is an ill wind,” however, and the one good point about the recent bad weather was that it had made the ground so soft that the enemy’s high explosive shells sank deeply in it before they detonated, and expended most of their energy in an upward direction, throwing up pyramids of mud, but doing comparatively little damage.  Now, however, on falling on the frozen earth, they carried destruction far and wide, as the Cornwallis learned, to their cost, when presently a battery of heavy howitzers began to shell them fiercely.

            Bandsman Thomas Edward Rendle was engaged in attending to one of the wounded, whose number was increasing every minute, when a huge shell struck the parapet not far from him, blowing the top completely in and burying several wounded men beneath the debris.  Without waiting to look for a spade or to summon assistance, for he knew that there was not a moment to be lost, the bandsman ran to the rescue, and began digging away furiously with his hands, and burrowing through the fallen earth to reach his unfortunate comrades.

             Soon his fingers were raw and bleeding from such unaccustomed work, while he laboured at the imminent risk of his life, since the fall of the parapet had, of course exposed him to the fire of the enemy’s snipers, and every time he rose to throw away the soil bullets hummed past his head.  But he toiled on heroically until every man was got out, and even then, though utterly exhausted by his exertions, he remained on duty, administrating what relief he could to the sufferers.

How Lieutenant Colonel Charles Hotham Montagu Doughty Wylie C.B.,

C.M.G., Of The Royal Welsh Fusiliers, And Captain Garth Neville

Walford, Of The Royal Field Artillery, Won The V.C. At Sedd-El-Bahr

             About one o’clock on the morning of Sunday, April 25^th 1915, the transports containing our Mediterranean Expeditionary Force dropped anchor at a point five miles from the shores of the Gallipoli Peninsula, and by the time the first streaks of dawn-the dawn of the last day which many a brave man was ever to see-appeared in the eastern sky, boats and destroyers crowded with troops were stealing in towards the land.

            Fierce was the resistance of the Turks at each of the six landing places-from Gaba Tepe, on the north side of the Peninsula, to Beach S in Morto Bay-but at Beach V, which at its southern extremity is commanded by the castle and village of Sedd-el-Bahr, and where our men were exposed to every type of converging fire, it was the fiercest of all.  Here fell Brigadier-General Napier, Captain Costeker, his brigade-major, Lieutenant-Colonel Carrington smith, commanding the Hampshire Regiment, and many other distinguished officers.  Here a whole company of the Munsters was practically wiped out and a half company of the Dublin Fusiliers reduced, by midday, to twenty-five effectives; and when the morning of the 26^th dawned the disembarkation was still in its first stage, and the remnant of the leading party-the survivors of the Dublin and Munster Fusiliers and of two companies of the Hampshire’s had been crouching for many hours behind a steep sandy bank at the top of the beach, the cover afforded by which had alone preserved them from being annihilated. 

             But cramped and stiff though they were, tormented by thirst, and subjected to a heavy and unceasing fire, our men were still full of fight, for with them were brave and devoted officers-Lieutenant Colonels Doughty-Wylie and Williams, of the Headquarters Staff, and Captain Walford, Brigade Major, R.A. who, with sublime indifference to their own danger, had been striving all through that day and night of ceaseless peril to keep their comrades in good heart.  And now, when it was daylight once more, these officers proceeded to organise an attack against the hill above the beach.  Fortunately, it happened that at about this same time arrangements had been made for the warships to begin a heavy bombardment of the Old Fort, the village of Sedd-el-Bahr, the Old Castle, north of the village, and of the ground leading up from the beach, under cover of which our men, most gallantly led by Lieutenant Colonel Doughty Wylie and Captain Walford, succeeded by 10 a.m. in gaining a footing in the village.  They had to encounter a most stubborn resistance, and suffered heavy losses from the fire of cleverly concealed riflemen and machine guns.  But though many fell, their comrades, supported by the terrific fire from the huge naval guns, continued to press on breaking in the doors of the houses with the butts of their rifles and routing the snipers out of their hiding places at the point of the bayonet; and soon after midday they penetrated to the northern edge f the village, whence they were in a position to attack the Old Castle and Hill 141.

            Brave Captain Walford had already fallen, and now when, owing so largely to his inspiring example and splendid courage, the position had been almost won, Lieutenant Colonel Doughty-Wylie, who, with a little cane in his hand, had led the attack all the way up from the beach through the west side of the village, under a galling fire, was shot through the brain while leading the last assault.  But out men, undeterred by the fall of their leaders, pushed resolutely forward, and fighting their way across the open in the most dashing manner, before 2 p.m. had gained the summit and occupied the Old Castle and Hill 141.

How Sapper Harry Epstein, of the Royal Engineers, Won The D.C.M.

At Hill 60

           Saturday May 8^th 1915, was an eventful day for our army in Flanders, for early that morning the Germans began an attack in overwhelming force upon the 28^th Division, which resulted in the whole of the British centre, after an heroic resistance and terrible losses, being driven in, and our line forced back west of the vitally important Frezenberg Ridge, which covered all the roads from Ypres by which our supplies and reinforcements travelled.  It was likewise an eventful day for sapper Harry Epstein of the royal Engineers; indeed, it may be doubted whether, during the present war, any British soldier has undergone a more nerve shattering experience, or escaped death, in various forms, in more miraculous a fashion, than did Sapper Epstein in the course of some twenty minutes of that May morning.

            It all happened in a trench at the foot of Hill 60, at the southwest extremity of the Ypres salient.  Hill 60 is only a Hill by courtesy, being no more than an earth heap from the cutting of the Ypres-Lille railway.  But it was a very important place, since it afforded an artillery position from which a considerable part of the German front could be commanded.  On the evening of April 17^th, it was captured by the British and gallantly held against a series of the most desperate counter attacks, which were accompanied by so terrific a bombardment that for four and a half days the defenders lived through a veritable hell.  But what shell and rifle and machine gun fire had failed to accomplish, poison gas did, and on May 5^th the enemy recaptured the greater part of the hill.  And thus it was that a couple of days later Germans and British found themselves occupying parts of the same trench, both having erected barricades at their respective ends, to guard against any unwelcome attentions on the part of their neighbours.

            In the course of that afternoon, while Epstein and some of his comrades of the 5^th Company Royal Engineers were resting previous to their night work, orders suddenly came for a non-commissioned officer and six sappers to proceed to the Brigade headquarters and make preparations for the blowing up of some German barricades, and Epstein was selected as one of the party.

               On arriving there they prepared two charges of gun cotton, one weighing forty pounds and the other a trifle less, and placed the slabs of the explosive in wooden boxes which Epstein constructed, with holes bored through them to let in the primers and detonators.  One of these charges was to be laid against the German barricade, the other against the British; the former was to be blown up first, and the moment this had been done, the British barricade would also be blown up, and our men, headed by a grenade party, would burst in upon the astonished Huns, while another party of the British simultaneously attacked from the other side of the trench, and so cut the enemy off.  Their preparations competed, they started off for the trench, carrying the charges, electrical leads, detonators and all the rest of the paraphernalia connected with a demolition party, and reached it in safety, passing on their way through a lane of dead, who lay everywhere along it and the railway cutting.  The corporal in charge of the Engineers and Epstein then proceeded to lay the first charge against our own barrier, a task of no small danger, since the Germans were throwing bombs all the time.  

            It was now about half past two in the morning, and the time fixed for the attack was approaching.  The officer in command called for two volunteers to carry and lay the second against the enemy’s barricade, and, if successful in this undertaking-and it was a very big “if” indeed-to set the fuse.  Epstein was the first to volunteer, another sapper named Warrel immediately following his example; and it was then arranged that, if they failed, two more of the Engineers should make the attempt, and in the event of a second failure, the remaining two; but that, if they were successful, they should get back as quickly as possible past our own barricade, which would then be immediately blown up.

            In order that the reader may appreciate the perilous nature of the duty required of these two brave men, we may here observe that they had no means of knowing what dangers they might not have to encounter between the two barricades, except that the enemy’s bombs were continually falling there; nor did they known definitely how far it was to the German barrier.  They calculated, however, that it was about ten yards, and had prepared the charge accordingly with two detonators, in each of which was a safely fuse which would take roughly thirty seconds to bur through.  Within that time they would of course have to get back behind their own barrier, or they might be blown to bits.

             Epstein having handed his watch and chain, diary, and other belongings to one of his friends, with instructions to whom they were to be sent in case he never returned to claim them, he and his comrade started for the unknown, the last words of the officer in command being “Goodbye and good luck to you!”

             Epstein climbed over the British barricade and lowered himself gently down; the other sapper followed, and side-by-side they began to crawl along, carrying the charge between them.  Both knew that it was touch and go with them, but both were perfectly cool and collected.

            Every foot of the way had to be covered as noiselessly as possible, for the Germans were certain to be on the alert, and they well knew that their lives depended on their preventing any intimation of their approach reaching the enemy’s ears.

             Gradually they drew nearer the barrier, and were just congratulating themselves on having reached it in safety, when, to their astonishment, they found that it was not a barrier at all but merely a huge traverse!

             The two men looked at each other, but neither spoke, for each read the unshakable determination in the other’s eyes.  Then they began to crawl around the traverse, Epstein leading the way, for these was room for only one to pass at a time.  Their situation was now more perilous than ever, for they knew not who might be lurking, and they had nothing with which to defend themselves.  Slowly and fearfully they rounded it, and perceived, some ten yards ahead, a second traverse, but no sign of a barrier.  Undismayed, the brave fellows kept on and had just reached the second traverse, when, with a tremendous explosion, two German bombs dropped immediately behind them, smothering them with earth, but happily doing them no harm.

            By this time they had crawled twice the distance they had counted upon, and still there was no barrier; but they had passed their word “to do or die” and neither of them thought for a moment of turning back.  And now, as Epstein peeped cautiously round the second traverse, he caught sight of the barrier ten yards further on.  But he saw something else too-something, which made his heart, brave though he was, well nigh stand still.  For in the barrier were two loop holes, one some two and a half feet above the ground, the other about as high again, to allow of a man firing through them either kneeling or standing.  And from these loopholes the Germans had a view straight up to the traverse, the trench itself being perfectly straight and only just wide enough for Epstein to crawl along the bottom.

            However, for the two Engineers to remain where they were would be fatal, as the enemy bombs were falling still, and if one of them hit the charge they would be blown to the skies.  And so, with a glance at each other, they crawled on and had got about halfway to the barrier, when a great uproar told them that the attack had begun.

             This they calculated would be certain to divert the attention of the Germans momentarily at least-from the loop-holes and resolved to make the most of their chance, they crawled forward as fast as they could, laid the charge against the barrier, and were just on the point of setting the fuse, when there came a defining roar and they found themselves once more smothered with earth.  The British had blown up their barricade!  What had happened was this:

            The officer in command of our men mistaking, as they all had, the first traverse, ten yards away, for the German barricade, and seeing the two bombs fall in the trench, naturally gave Epstein and his companion up for lost, and when the attack began he concluded that there was nothing to be done but to blow up his own barrier and let the grenade party through.

             Had the German barricade really stood where our men supposed it to be, there would have been no hope for the two adventurous sappers, for the explosion of forty pounds of gun cotton would kill every living thing within a radius of ten yards; but someone’s prayers must have been answered that night, for, as events turned out, they were not ten but thirty yards away, and only got covered with earth.

            Recovering from his astonishment, Epstein was once more on the point of setting the fuse, when round the corner of the second traverse came the officer at the head of the grenade party his eyes alight with the joy of battle and shouting at the top of his voice for more grenades.  Of course, the Germans at once hurried to the loopholes in their barrier, and just as Epstein had managed to crawl back a couple of feet, he saw, to his horror, the muzzle of a rifle poked through the upper one.  What he suffered in the next few moments may be imagined.  He did not dare to rise, for if he had, he would have placed himself on the same level as the rifle, but out the corner of his eye, he saw the barrel being gradually depressed until it was pointed straight at his head.  A kind of stupor appeared to come over him, and he lay there with closed eyes almost waiting for the bullet, it seemed impossible that the German could miss.  And then Bang!  And he was nearly blinded with earth; the bullet had passed an inch in front of his head and buried itself in the ground.  At once Epstein seemed to be galvanized into action, for without giving the German time to take aim again he sprang to his feet, and in two bounds had reached the traverse, just as several bullets flattened themselves against the sandbags.

           Scarecely had he reached it, however, that he felt on the point of collapsing, and it was only with difficulty that he succeeded in making his way back to his comrades, amid the din of a furious conflict, artillery, machine guns, rifles, bombs, grenades, the shouting of the officer and the cries of the wounded-all blending together in one huge volume of sound.

How Second Lieutenant Rupert Price Hallowes, Of The 4^th Battalion M

Middlesex Regiment, Won The Military Cross At Hodge (July 1915)

And The Victoria Cross At Hooge (September 1915)

            The summer campaign of 1915 in the West on the British section of the allied front made comparatively little difference to the contours of our line as marked upon the map.  Nevertheless, if measured by the gain or loss of ground, the fighting was of slight importance, it was often a desperate character and productive of heavy casualties.  This was particularly the cause in the Hooge area, lying on either side of the Menin-Ypres road, where fighting of a fierce and sanguinary character went on intermittently all through the summer months.  Thus, on the last day of May we captured the outbuildings of the chateau, and, after being driven out, recaptured them again on the night of June 3^rd.  On the 16^th we attacked with some success south of Hooge, and carried one thousand yards of German front trenches and part of their second line, and afterwards repulsed a strong counter attack.  On the 18^th of the same month we made some progress north of the Menin-Ypres road; while on July 19^th, an enemy redoubt at the western end of the Hooge defence was successfully mined and destroyed, and a small portion of their trenches was captured.  In this action an officer of the 4^th Middlesex, one of the battalions of the 3^rd Division, Lieutenant Rupert Price Hollowes, won the Military Cross by the daring bravery he displayed when the Germans delivered their counter attack.  Perceiving that owing to our shortage of bombs, the enemy were approaching down the communication trench, he left his own trench, and with the most perfect indifference to the risk to which was exposing himself, went out into the open and fired at them, killing or wounding several.  Later, he assisted in the repair of the communication trench and in rebuilding a parapet that had been blown in by a shell, both under very heavy fire; while throughout the night he rendered great assistance in keeping in touch with our supports and in supplying bombs. 

             Fierce fighting again occurred at Hooge between July 30^th and August 9^th, but after that there was relative quiet along this part of our front until the last week in September, when a strong offensive movement was undertaken by us, with the object of detaining the left wing of the Duke of Wurtemberg’s command and preventing the German from sending reinforcements southwards to the La Bassee district where the main British advance was about to begin.

            At four o’clock on the morning of the 25^th, our artillery preparation began, and soon after 4.30 the British infantry advanced to attack, the 14^th Division on the left against the Bellawaarde Farm, and the 3^rd Division, which included the 4^th Middlesex, against the enemy’s position north of Sanctuary Wood, on the south side of the Menin-Ypres road.  The charge of our infantry carried all before it, and the whole of the German first line trenches were soon in our hands.  But the enemy had concentrated a mass of artillery behind the lines, and our new front was subjected to so heavy a bombardment that the gains on our left could not be held, though south of the highway the 3^rd division still clung to some of the ground it had won, and managed to consolidate its position.

            Between that day and October 1^st, during which time the trenches held by the 4^th Middlesex were subjected to four heavy and prolonged bombardments and repeated counter attacks, Second-Lieutenant Hallowes again most brilliantly distinguished himself, “displaying,” in the words of the Gazette, “the greatest bravery and untiring energy and setting a magnificent example to his men.”  On the night of September 26^th-27^th, perceiving two wounded men of the Royal Scots lying out in the open, he left his trench, and, under a fierce rifle fire, coolly superintended their removal to a place of safety.  Scarcely had he returned to the trenches, than the Germans another severe bombardment, and shells of every description came raining down.  The range was very accurate, and fearing that some of the men might begin to flinch, Lieutenant Hallowes, utterly regardless of his own danger, climbed on to the parapet to put fresh heart into them.  “He seemed to be everywhere giving encouragement to everyone,” wrote private of his battalion.

            Lieutenant Hallowes also made more than one daring reconnaissance of the German position, and when the supply of bombs was running short, he went back, under very heavy shellfire, and brought up a fresh supply.

             For six days this most heroic officer braved death successfully, but such entire disregard of danger as he displayed cannot long be continued with impunity, and on the seventh (October 1^st) he met his inevitable end.  He was a hero to the last, for we are told “even after he was mortally wounded he continued to cheer those around him and to inspire them with fresh courage.”

             The Victoria Cross, for which he appears to have been recommended after the fighting on September 25^th, was awarded him posthumously, “for most conspicuous bravery and devotion to duty,” and no one will be inclined to dispute his right to a foremost place on our most glorious roll of honour.

How Corporal I. C. Allpress, Of The Royal Horse Artillery,

Won The D.C.M. Near Krithia

            After the first movement against Krithia on April 28^th 1915, the line held by the Allied forces on the Gallipoli Peninsula extended from a point on the coast three miles northeast of Cape Tekke to a point one mile north of our front being held by the French.  No movement of any importance occurred on the two following days, which were spent by the Allies in consolidating and strengthening the positions gained and landing reinforcements.  But at 10 p.m. on the night of May 1^st, the Turks began shelling us heavily, and half an hour later, just before the moon rose, their infantry attacked in great force and with the utmost determination.  Their German officers had issued an eloquent invocation to the Turkish rank and file, who were exhorted, by one mighty effort, to fling all the invaders back into the sea: “Attack the enemy with the bayonet and utterly destroy him.  We shall not return one step, for if we do, our religion our country and our nation will perish.  Soldiers!  The world is looking at you!  Tour only hope of salvation is to bring this battle to a successful issue, or gloriously to give up your life in the attempt!”

            The plan of attack was for the Turks to crawl forward on hands and knees, under cover of their artillery fire until the time came for the final rush to be made.  They advanced in a three deep formation, and the first line had no ammunition, so that the men might be forced to rely on the bayonet.

            The right of the 86^th Brigade whom the artillery bombardment had fallen most heavily, had also to bear the chief imnpact of the Turkish charge, and for a moment an ugly gap appeared in our line; but a brilliant bayonet charge by a Territorial battalion the 5^th Royal Scots, cleared the enemy from the trenches he had occupied and, with the assistance of the 1^st Essex, the front was soon restored.

            The storm next broke violently against the French left, south of the Krithia road, and the Senegalese, who held the first and second line trenches, supported by British artillery, were driven from them.  Here, at a place which we had named Stone Ridge, Corporal Allpress and a comrade belonging to “B” Battery, R.H.A., were occupying a dug out, which served as an observation station for their battalion in the rear, Allpress observing, while the other man worked the telephone.  The wave of Turks dashed over the first line trenches and on to the second, which they also carried; and the observation post became an island in a sea of men.  Happily, this particular spot was only crossed by three of the enemy, whom the artillerymen disposed of with their revolvers.  A bullet in the throat, however, killed Allpress’s comrade,, and he was left alone.  Nevertheless, this brave fellow, undisturbed by the extraordinary situation in which he found himself-one man in the midst of thousands of fanatical enemies, some of whom might at any moment discover his whereabouts-calmly assumed the double duty of observer and telephone operator, and continued to watch the fire of his battery and communicate his directions to the gunners throughout the remainder of that night, the whole of the following day, and the succeeding night.  And when, on the second night, the Allies and the lost trenches retaken delivered a successful counter attack, there was Corporal Allpress still alternatively observing and telephoning-an example of coolness and courage which would be indeed difficult to beat.

How Corporal J. A. Selwood, Of The 1.4^th Battalion Gloucestershire

Regiment, Won The D.C.M. Near Le Gheir

How Lieutenant James Anson Otho Brooke, Of The 2^nd Battalion The Gordon Highlanders

Won The V.C. Near Gheluvelt

            A lull in the firing on October 28^th 1914 was the herald of perhaps the greatest struggle of the campaign in the West.  The enemy was concentrating his forces for a tremendous attack upon the British lines along the Ypres front, and for five days from October 29^th the Kaiser was to be present with his troops, to stimulate them to one supreme effort, which would open the coveted road to Ypres.  The Kaiser’s presence was signalised on the morning of the 29^th by a grand assault along, and on either side of, the Menin Road.  The six regiments in the front line, which met the full force of the attack, were the Black Watch, 1^st Coldstream Guards and 1^st Scots Guards to the north of the road, and the 1^st Grenadiers, 2^nd Gordon’s and 2^nd Scots Fusiliers to the south.  In reserve there were the Border Regiment in Gheluvelt, and the 2^nd Scots Guards to the south of it.  At 5.30 a.m. the Germans began their advance under cover of a thick fog.  On getting past the first line without a shot being fired, they stationed their machine guns in the houses by the roadside in the rear.  Then, without any warning, the British regiments on the immediate right and left of the road found themselves assailed by a storm of bullets from machine guns in flank and rear.

            The 1^st Grenadiers, who were stationed immediately to the south of the road, suffered very severely.  The thick fog made it very difficult to accurately locate the enemy or to return their fire.  Captain Rasch, who was now in command, decided therefore to withdraw the battalion into the woods to the south, and with them, went the left flank of the Gordon’s, under Captain Burnett.  The Germans were thus left to continue firing upon the trenches, but when the fog suddenly lifted the situation became clear.  They ceased firing upon the empty trenches, and began to advance southwards from the road, and also westward.

How Private James William Collins, Of The 1^st Battalion Leinster

Regiment, Won The D.C.M. At St. Eloi

             It is the proud boast of the British Army that it never lacks leaders.  Unlike the Germans, whole companies of whom have been known to throw down their arms when their officers and non-commissioned officers have fallen, there is always some strong and dominant among the British rank and file ready to spring into the gap in such an emergency, and, by his courage and presence of mind, rally his comrades and inspire them to renewed exertions.  Nor do such leaders always come from among the old campaigners, men who have under fire more times than they can remember, and who have become so familiarized with the sight of death that it has long since ceased to have any terrors for them.  Sometimes, the soldier who so gallantly rises to the occasion is a mere lad, as the following incident will show.

            Early in the afternoon of February 14^th 1915, during the desperate fighting at St. Eloi, a party of the 1^st Leinster Regiment, with a machine gun, were defending one of the first line trenches, which had been subjected for some hours to a terrific bombardment from the German batteries, in preparation for an infantry attack.  Suddenly they received that the troops on their left, whose trenches had been blown almost to atoms by the enemy’s guns, were retiring, and directly afterwards the Germans began to advance in great force.  Rifle and machine gun spread death amongst the oncoming hordes; but though the Germans fell in heaps, their numbers were too great to be denied and they continued to advance.  It was plain that the Leinsters must retire also, for the enemy outnumbered them by at least twelve to one, and against such odds the most indomitable courage could be of no avail.  It the trench were rushed, they would be bayoneted to a man.  But it was above all things necessary to effect an orderly retirement; otherwise their fate would be sealed. 

            It was at this critical moment that Private James William Collins, a young soldier of twenty-one happening to glance about him, perceived that some of the comrades-raw lads who had come out with the last draft and were now under fire for the first time-were beginning to loose their heads.  Without a moment’s hesitation, young Collins leaped upon the parados of the trench and stood there “like a bandmaster on a stool”-as one who was present expresses it-in full view of the advancing enemy, now not fifty yards distant, shouting encouragement and abuse at the men in the rich vocabulary of the British “Tommy.”  A shower of bullets greeted his appearance, but he seemed to bear a charmed life, for by some miracle not one touched him, and he remained in his perilous position for some minutes until he had succeeded in rallying the men, while the Germans, astonished at such reckless daring and at their failure to bring him down actually came to a halt within ten yards of the parapet.

            Thanks to the gallantry and presence of mind of this young soldier, the party was able to effect a safe retirement, without sustaining any further loss.

            The trenches captured by the Germans did not remain long in their possession, for that same night they were retaken by a dashing counter attack, and a terrible price exacted from the enemy for his brief success.

How Acting Corporal James Enticott, Of The 3^rd Hussars, Won The

D.C.M. At Klein Zillebeke

            Since the first days of the Battle of the Aisne, our cavalry have had few opportunities to distinguish themselves in the saddle; but the British trooper is also a mounted infantryman, and can fight with a rifle as well as with a sword, and in the trenches of Flanders he has performed work every bit as splendid, if not quite so dramatic as the famous charge of the 9^th Lancers and the 18^th Hussars at Coulommiers on September 7^th 1914.  “With little or no experience of trench warfare,” writes Major General Byng, commanding the 3^rd division, “exposed to every vagary of weather under a persistent and concentrated shelling, the regimental officers N.C.O.’s and men, have undertaken this most arduous and demoralising work with a keenness and courage which I place on record with the greatest pride.”

            October 30^th 1914 was a critical day n the great Battle of Ypres and a terribly trying experience of trench warfare for the cavalry, who had to bear the brunt of the fighting.  At dawn the German batteries opened so terrible a fire on the ridge of Zandvoorde, held by the 3^rd Cavalry Division, under General Byng, that the trenches were soon rendered untenable, one troop being buried alive, and the whole division was compelled to fall back a mile to the ridge of Klein Zillebeke on the north.  The right of the 2^nd Division was thus uncovered, and had to retire to conform, and the situation became one of the great danger.  To reinforce General Byng, the Scots Greys and the 3^rd and 4^th Hussars were brought up, and, with their assistance, he succeeded in holding the position until the evening, when he was relieved by the 4^th (Guards) Brigade.

            It was during the defence of the Klein Zillebeke ridge that a young man of four and twenty, Acting corporal James Enticott, of the 3^rd Hussars, performed the gallant action for which the Distinguished Conduct Medal was awarded.

            Enticott’s troop was posted close to a farm house, which stood in the midst of a tobacco plantation on the left flank of the regiment, which at that time was occupying the western extremity of the ridge, and Enticott received orders to make his way to a partially demolished trench in the centre of a field on their left, and report on the movements of the enemy in that direction.  He had been there about a quarter of an hour, when the farmhouse was heavily shelled by the Germans and burst into flames, while several of the Hussars stationed in the surrounding plantation were either killed or wounded.

            The troop were obliged to retire to the shelter of a wood some hundred yards in their rear; but Enticott with his field glasses to his eyes pluckily remained at his post, though presently the shells began falling thickly about him, and he was obliged to bob down repeatedly to avoid being hit. 

How Private James Lavin, Of The 1/5^th Battalion Royal Welsh Fusiliers,

Won The D.C.M. At Suvla Bay, Gallipoli

            At the beginning of November 1915, the 15^th Royal Welsh Fusiliers were occupying a section of our front line at Suvla Bay, Gallipoli.  One trench, which lay in a valley, was separated from those of the Turks by about one hundred yards, and from it a disused sap ran out to within sixty yards of the enemy.  At the end of this sap was an open field, half way across which stood a large tree.  It was the duty of our patrols to proceed as far as this tree, and the Turkish snipers, aware of this, had had the distances from the sap to the tree set and kept up a steady fire, with the result that scarcely a night passed without some of our men getting hit.  Sometimes, one or more Turks would conceal themselves behind the tree and fire upon a patrol as it emerged from the sap, and since our men, when they left our trench, never knew whether there were snipers behind the tree or not, patrol duty in such circumstances was not exactly a popular one.  The enemy, moreover, had contracted the disagreeable habit of creeping up the sap and throwing bombs into our trench, until, what with the snipers and the bombs, the life of its occupants was becoming a little too eventful to be pleasant.

            A daring Fusilier, Private James Lavin, who had been wounded in the fierce fighting of the previous August and had only recently returned to duty, determined to try and do something to mitigate the nuisance, and one dark night, when out with a patrol, he allowed his comrades to return without him, and hid himself behind the tree.  Presently, some half dozen Turks, who had seen the patrol going in, came creeping up behind them, with the intention of throwing bombs into out trench so soon as the coast was clear.  One Turk entered the sap, while the others lay down about twenty yards from it, ready to cover his retreat.

             Perceiving this, Lavin crawled out from behind the tree, and made a detour, which brought him between the prostrate Turks and the sap.  He could hear the man who had entered the sap clicking his rifle, but the night was too dark to make him out.  Lavin knew that we had a sentry on guard at the trench end of the sap, and that if he fired up the sap, he might hit his own comrade; besides, his orders were not to fire except in a case of most extreme emergency, but to use the bayonet only.  On the other hand, if the sentry heard a man coming along the sap, he would think it was Lavin returning, since the patrol would certainly have told him that one of them had remained behind.  However, it was necessary to act at once, for at any moment the Turk might throw a bomb and kill the sentry, and then rush past him and fling more bombs into the trench itself.  Accordinly, he made his way up the sap as quickly and as noiselessly as he could, but had proceeded only a few yards when, as ill luck would have it, he kicked against an empty tin which someone had flung down there.  The Turk turned round instantly, and the two men could now see each other quite plainly.  Before Lavin could recover from his surprise at his misadventure with the tin, the Turk levelled his rifle and fired point blank at him.  Happily, he missed, and the Fusilier dropping his own rifle, sprang forward and grappled with him.

            The struggle, though fierce, was short, and Lavin, having succeeded in wrenching the rifle out of his opponent’s hand, drove him at the point of the bayonet towards the British trench.

             Meantime, a number of his comrades, alarmed by the shot, came running for the sap, but Lavin called out to them not to fire, as it was he with a prisoner.  When searched, the captured Turk was fund to be carrying two bombs, so that Lavin’s fortunate intervention probably saved the lives of several of our men.  It appears, too, to have served as a salutary lesson to the Turks, for after this incident the Welsh Fusiliers had no more trouble with bomb throwers.  Three weeks later they were withdrawn from the Peninsula.

How Second Lieutenant James Leach And Sergeant John Hogan, Of The

2^nd Battalion, The Manchester Regiment, Won The V.C. At Festubert

            By the end of the third week in October 1914, our 2^nd Corps, which had crossed the Bethune-La Bassee Canal some days previously, had fought their way through the difficult country to the northeast of it until they held a line pivoting on Givenchy in the south, and then running east in a salient north of the La Bassee road to the village of Herlies, whence it bent westwards to Aubers.  The 5^th Division, which included the 14^th brigade, in which were the 2^nd Manchester’s, was on the right; the 3^rd Division to the north of it.  The strength of the two divisions amounted to some 30,000 men.  Sir Horace Smith Dorrien’s aim had been to get astride the La Bassee-Lille road in the neighbourhood of Fournes, and so, with the help of the French 10^th Army, to isolate the enemy on the high ground south of La Bassee.  But he was not then aware how overwhelming were the forces opposed to him, and he was soon obliged to forgo this plan, and to devote all his energies to holding his ground.

            On the morning of the 22^nd, the enemy made a determined attack on the southern part of the British line, held by the 5^th Division, and drove us out of the village of Violaines, between Givenchy and Lorgies; but a dashing counter attack, in which the 2^nd Manchester’s greatly distinguished themselves, prevented their advancing farther.  That night, however, Smith-Dorrien withdrew to a new line running from just east to Givenchy, by Neuve chapelle to Fauquissart.  The Manchester’s were posted near Festubert.  

            On the 24^th the enemy attacked heavily all along this new line, and fierce and obstinate fighting continued with little intermission during the remainder of their month.  On the 27^th, the Germans, coming on in great force, got into Neuve Chapelle, from the greater part of which, however, they were ejected on the following day, after desperate hand to hand fighting, by three native battalions of the Lahore Division of the Indian Corps, which had been brought up to support the exhausted British.

            Next morning on our right at Festubert, the 14^th Brigade were fiercely attacked, the trenches of the Manchester’s being assailed with especial violence.  Second Lieutenant James Leach, a lad of twenty, recently promoted to a commission in the Manchester’s from the ranks of the 1^st Northampton’s, occupied with thirty-four men an advanced trench, which, after being subjected to a very heavy shelling was attacked by between two and three hundred of the enemy.  The Manchester’s put up a right gallant fight, and received the advancing Huns with so withering a fire that before the latter reached the parapet fully half of them must have fallen.  But the odds against our men were still too great to be denied, and, by sheer weight of numbers, the remainder of the Germans succeeded in carrying the position and forcing them to retire down the communication trench to the support trenches, with the loss of about a dozen men.

             The position was very important, and the men who had been forced to retire were determined to make every effort to recover it.  Headed by Lieutenant Leach and Sergeant John Hogan, a veteran of the South African War, they made with these object two gallant counter attacks; but the Germans had brought up machine guns, and each attempt failed.

             Two brave failures against a much superior force, strongly posted and assisted machine guns, would have left any regiment with its honour intact, but that kind of negative glory did not satisfy Lieutenant Leach.  He had made up his mind to retake the position at all costs.  He waited until night fell, and then crept cautiously up to ascertain what the Germans were doing.  The result of his reconnaissance was not exactly encouraging, since he found the enemy in the occupation of three out of the four traverses.  He therefore decided to do nothing for the moment, and crept back as quietly as he had come.  At eleven o’clock the young officer made another journey of inspection, and on this occasion he found the Germans occupying all the traverses.  Thereupon he decided upon action, and, sending for Sergeant Hogan, called for ten volunteers.  They were readily forthcoming and the little party of twelve set out their perilous enterprise.

            Lieutenant Leach conducted his men along the communication trench, which led into the right of the advantage trench.  They had to crawl all the way, for fear of alarming the Germans.  His plan was to push the enemy as far to the left as he could, and entrap them in the cul-de-sac formed by the traverse on the left.  The Germans were taken completely by surprise, and, after some stern bayonet work, the little band succeeded in pushing the enemy into the next traverse.  The lieutenant and the sergeant now went forward alone.  They had reached a point where the captured trench turned sharply at right angles.  Leach was armed with a revolver, and was able to reach his hand round the corner and fire along the sections without exposing himself.  The Germans, being armed only with rifles, could not shoot without exposing part of their bodies.

             Meanwhile, Hogan watched the parapet to ward off attacks from above since it was quite possible that the Germans might climb over from the section and shoot the two men from above, or take them in the rear; but nothing untowed happened and they advanced to the next section.  Taking their stand at the next corner, they repeated the manoeuvre, Leach being now obliged to fire with his left hand.  Another section was won, and then came the advance to the third.  During their progress Hogan put his cap on the end of his rifle, and raised it above the parapet, with the object of letting his comrades behind know how far they had progressed, so that they would not sweep the part of the trench, which had been retaken with their fire.  All the while the Germans kept up “an inferno of bullets” to borrow Hogan’s own expression-and at places fierce hand to hand encounters between them and the two heroes occurred.  But they all ended in the discomfiture of the Huns, who were finally driven along the left traverse until they could get no farther, and Leach and Hogan had them at their mercy.  Then the Germans decided to surrender.  Leach was surprised to hear a voice calling in English: “Don’t shoot sir!”  The speaker turned out to be one of his own men who had been taken prisoner in the morning.  He had been sent by the German officer to say that they wished to surrender.  Proceeding round the corner of the traverse, the young lieutenant found the officer and about fourteen Huns on their knees, with their hands raised in supplication.  At sight of him a chorus of “Mercy” arose the word these gantry usually employ when cornered by the British.  Leach told them to take off their equipment and run into the British main trench.  This they did with all speed, being evidently in fear of being shot down by their comrades in the German trenches.  Leach then learned that two more of his men had been captured by the Germans that morning, and that the officer who had just surrendered, and who could speak English, had promised them “a good time” when they were sent to Berlin as prisoners.  In all, Leach and Hogan killed eight of the enemy, wounded two, and made sixteen prisoners, besides regaining possession of an important advance trench.  For his magnificent work they were each subsequently awarded the Victoria Cross, and well did they deserve the coveted bronze medal.  They had been brave as few men have been, and had risked their lives freely at the call of duty.

            Lieutenant Leach may be said to have been in the Army, for his father was colour-Sergeant in the King’s Royal Lancaster’s.  As a boy, he lived in Manchester and attended the Moston Lane Boy School.  Some years ago his family removed from Manchester, and young Leach eventually joined the 1^st Northampton’s.  He went to France as a corporal, having received his stripes within six weeks of the war breaking out.  He was shortly afterwards promoted sergeant, and on October 1^st was gazetted second lieutenant in the 2^nd Manchester.

How Corporal James Upton, Of The 1^st Battalion Sherwood Foresters,

Won The V.C. At Rouges Bancs

            On Sunday May 9^th 1915, in conjunction with a forward movement of the French troops between the right of our line and Arras, our 1^st Corps and the Indian Corps attacked the German position between Neuve Chapelle and Givenchy, while the 8^th Division of the 4^th corps attacked the enemy’s trenches in the neighbourhood of Rouges Bancs to the northwest of Fromelles.  Our artillery preparation at Rouges Bancs began shortly before 5 a.m., and half an hour later our infantry advanced to the assault of the German trenches, which were separated from ours by a distance of some 250 yards, the intervening ground being destitute of every vestige of cover.  The East Lancashire and two companies of the 1st Sherwood Foresters started the attack; but the artillery preparation had been altogether inadequate, and our men came up against unbroken wire and parapets.  Many casualties occurred during the advance, and many more during the subsequent retirement.

            About 7 a.m., after a second bombardment of the enemy’s position, the remaining two companies of the 1^st Sherwood foresters scaled the parapet and lined up about thirty yards in front of it, where they lay down in a shallow trench, to await the order to advance.  With them was a young Lincolnshire man, corporal James Upton, who on that day was destined to win the most coveted distinctions of the British soldier.

            The ground in front of the Sherwood’s was strewn with the wounded, some of them terribly mutilated, and their cries for help were heartrending.  At last Corporal Upton could listen to them no longer; come what might, he was resolved to go to their succour.

How Sergeant John Crane, Of The 2^nd Royal Munster Fusiliers,

Won The D.C.M. At Festubert

            Early on the morning of December 19^th 1914m Sir John Willcocks, commanding the Indian Corps, decided to take advantage of what appeared to him a favourable opportunity to attack the advanced trenches of the enemy.  The British position at the time on this part of our front extended from Cuinchy on the south, to the west of Neuve Chapelle on the north, passing through Givenchy and a little to the east of Festubert.  The attack was at first successful, but by the evening determined counter attacks had driven the Indian Corps back to its original line; and by ten o’clock the next morning, the Germans, following up their advantage, had captured a large part of Givenchy and driven a wedge north of the town which exposed the right flank of the Dehra Dun Brigade, stationed to the northeast of Festubert.  All the afternoon of the 20^th these troops suffered severely, being, in the words of Sir John French, “pinned to the ground by artillery fire.”  But, towards evening, strong reinforcements, which included the 2^nd Munsters, were hurried up to their support; and in the early hours of the 21^st this battalion was ordered to recapture a line of distant trenches, from which the Indians had been driven on the previous day.

            Just before the order came, a young sergeant of the Munsters, John Crane, had been sent with a message to the 2^nd Brigade on their right, and when he returned, he heard that his battalion had charged though no one knew where it had gone or what had happened to it.  The darkness had simply swallowed it up.  The sergeant reported himself to Major Ryan, D.S.O., of the Munsters-a gallant officer who unhappily fell a victim to a sniper’s bullet a few weeks later-at the Brigade Headquarters, and when the forenoon passed without bringing any news of the lost battalion, Major Ryan, becoming very anxious asked Crane if he would go out and try to locate it before darkness set in, telling him that he might take any one with him whom he wished.  Lance Corporal now Sergeant, Eccles at once agreed to accompany him, and about three o’clock in the afternoon they set off, having first taken off all their equipment, in order not to impede their movements.

            The ground in front of the British lines was so swept by shell and rifle fire that they found it necessary to make a wide detour, until they came to an old trench of ours, along which they advanced for some five hundred yards, when, not having seen any signs of the Munsters, they got out again, and with bullets humming all around them, made their way by short rushes, for some distance across the open ground until they came upon their battalion, or rather the remnants of it.  For it had been badly cut up, and was besides in a very precarious position, having lost its way and being completely isolated.  They returned to their Brigade Headquarters ad reported accordingly, and were asked to go out again and guide their comrades back, while arrangements were being made for troops to cover the sorely tried battalion’s withdrawal.  And this task they successfully accomplished, under a heavy fire and through a very difficult country, displaying, says the Gazette, “great courage, endurance and marked resource.”

            Subsequently, notwithstanding the fatigue, which they must have been suffering, they took out stretcher-bearers and brought in a number of wounded, including the colonel and the adjutant.

How Lieutenant John Henry Stephen Dimmer, Of The 2^nd Battalion

King’s Royal Rifle Corps Won The V.C. At Klein Zillebeke

             On the morning of November 10^th 1914, the 2^nd Kings Royal Rifles, who had been attached to the sorely shattered 4^th (Guards) Brigade relieved the London Scottish in the section of the trenches at Klein Zillebeke which the Territorial had held so gallantly in the face of heavy and persistent shelling.  The machine gun section, which was in charge of Lieutenant Dimmer, took over from the Scots about noon, and that officer lost no time in pacing his two Vickers machine guns in position.  The German trenches opposite to ours had been dug behind a bank on the edge of a woo, known to our men as the Brown Road Wood, and the trees of which, though it was already the second week in November, were still well covered with leaves.  A great number of the trees had, however, been broken down by the fire of our artillery; indeed, as viewed from the British trenches, the wood appeared almost impassable.  The No Man’s Land between the hostile lines presented a curious and gruesome spectacle, being covered with shell holes and littered with the unburied bodies of fallen Germans-in heaps and singly-many of which had probably lain there since the desperate and sanguinary fighting of the last days of October.

            During the afternoon of the 10^th the new arrivals were very badly shelled, and also much annoyed by the attention of the German snipers, a corporal of the K.R.R.’s named Cordingley, being shot dead by one of these gentry, while Lieutenant Dimmer had two narrow escapes, the bullet on each occasion passing through his cap.  On the 11^th they were shelled all day, the bombardment being particularly severe in the afternoon.  On the 12^th, on which day the enemy began a series of attacks on the Klein Zillebeke positions and along the whole of our line towards Messines, all was quiet until noon, when the German artillery started a violent bombardment of the “Green Jackets” trenches.  This continued for about half an hour, when it slackened, and the enemy’s machine guns began to pour a torrent of bullets through the gaps in the British parapet made by their artillery fire.  Then 1 p.m., the Prussian Guard, in mass formation, advanced from the wood, the men marching shoulder to shoulder in perfect order, as though they were on parade.

            At once the British machine guns began to spit death amongst them, Lieutenant Dimmer firing one of the guns himself, and the storm of bullets tore through their serried ranks, mowing them down as corn falls before the sickle.  But still they came on, and presently the lieutenant’s gun jammed, owing to the belt getting wet.  In a moment he had climbed onto the emplacement a large adjustable spanner in his hand, and got the deadly weapon again in working order; but, as he did so, a rifle bullet struck him in the right jaw.  Heedless of the pain, he began pouring a fresh stream of lead into the advancing masses, but he had not fired many rounds when the gun stuck when traversing.  Reaching up to remedy the stoppage, he was hit again by a rifle bullet, this time in the right shoulder.  But he got his gun going again for all that, and before that blast of death the Huns fell in swathes.  Then a shrapnel shell burst above him, and he was hit for the third time, three bullets lodging in his injured shoulder.  But, with the blood streaming from his wounds, the heroic officer went on firing his gun, until, when within fifty yards of our trenches, the Germans suddenly broke and ran for cover.  Their artillery covered their retreat with a rain of shrapnel, and Lieutenant Dimmer’s gun was hit and destroyed, and his face spattered with splinters of broken metal.  Exhausted with pan and loss of blood, he lost consciousness for a time, but oncoming to insist on proceeding to Brigade Headquarters to report in person to the Earl of Cavan, commanding the 4^th (Guards) Brigade.  Scarcely, however, had he made his report when his strength gave out, and he collapsed and was taken to the dressing station. 

             Happily, the most gallant officer, whose magnificent courage and tenacity were recognized by the award of the Victoria Cross, has since made a complete recovery, and after being attached for a time to the 6^th Battalion of the K.R.R.C. at Sheerness, he had been sent to Serbia, where doubtless fresh opportunities for distinction await him.

How Private John Kendrick Of The Royal Army Medical Corps,

Won The D.C.M. At Steinstratte

            Splendid indeed have been the services rendered to their sick and wounded comrades by the devoted members of the Royal Army Medical corps.  Surgeons, hospital orderlies and ambulance men have all alike laboured with an untiring energy, an absolute forgetfulness of self, and contempt for danger, which are beyond all praise.

            On the morning of October 25^th 1914, Private Kendrick, with the other stretcher-bearers of No.2 Field Ambulance, received orders to proceed from their bullets at Boesinghe to that part of the Allied line held by the British, in order to collect the wounded.  The regimental medical officer having asked for a man to be left to assist him, Private Kendrick was detailed for the duty, and helped to carry two wounded men of the King’s Royal Rifle Corps and five badly wounded Germans from the firing line to a small house a little distance in the rear.  To remove them to hospital was impossible, for the reserve trenches were being heavily shelled by the enemy, and before they had covered half the distance both the wounded men and their attendants would in all probability have been blown to fragments.  As our troops were on the point of being relieved by the French, and the services of the surgeon and his assistants were required elsewhere, Private Kendrick volunteered to remain in the house with them until such time as they could be removed without danger.  But soon a terrible problem presented itself.  None of the wounded men had tasted food for many hours; and, what was worse, one and all were consumed with a raging thirst, and their cries for water were pitiful.  Kednirck distributed all his rations and the contents of his water bottle amongst them, but this went but a very little way among seven, and he became very alarmed.

            Kendrick searched the house; not a morsel of food, not a drop of water, was to be found.  To obtain any he must make his way to the French trenches across ground affording scarcely a particle of cover and on which shells were falling in a never-ending stream.  The brave man wrecked little of his own life, but he trembled for the lives of the helpless men, friend and foe alike, who had been committed to his care.  If he attempted to reach the French trenches and were killed, what would become of them, with no one to attend to their hurts no one to summon when an opportunity for removing them in safety should arrive?  On the other hand, they could not survive many hours without either food or water; by the next morning at farthest it was doubtful whether any of them would be left alive.

            He went to the door and looked out to see if he could discern any signs of the enemy’s fire subsiding.  It was more violent than ever; the skies seemed literally to be raining shrapnel; huge “Jack Johnson’s” churned up the ground on every side.  He turned back into the house, to be greeted with heartrending appeals for water from both Briton and German.  That decided him; he would relieve their torment or perish in the attempt; and promising them that they should soon have both water and food; he started at a run for the French lines.

            The distance was not far, but the danger was great, and she