Thomas Hope Floyd - At Ypres with Best Dunkley

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"I have found Verity here. He has been here some time, and is alive and
in the best of health.

"Well, I really must stop now; though I could go on recording every
bang as it comes; there are about two explosions during every sentence
which I write.

"Now do not get anxious, we manage to exist through it all; and I do not
see why my luck should desert me. I am on the one point on the Western
Front where I had a desire to explore. There is something doing here."

And "something doing" there was, much sooner than I expected. I had
reached the Prison at Ypres just in time to hear and feel the best
staged battle in history--the Battle of Messines. The following letter
written home on the evening of June 7, describes Messines Night:

"Since I wrote to Mother yesterday a good deal has happened. About 6.30
I attended a conference consisting of the officers and sergeants of B
Company in Captain Andrew's room; and Captain Andrews explained the
scheme which he had explained to me earlier on; though he did not tell
them quite as much. I, of course, will not tell you what the scheme was!
Then dinner. Things were much quieter now--quieter than they had been
all day. A working party of the Battalion was to leave after dinner. The
2/5th Lancashire Fusiliers are the battalion in reserve to General
Stockwell's brigade at present: we hang out here in the day-time, and go
out on working parties in the trenches in the Salient at night. But
Captain Andrews said that I need not go out with them on this occasion.
So I remained behind and censored letters. While doing so my eyes began
to water--about 11 to 11.30. Then the Company mess-waiter, Private Saul
(Captain Andrews' batman), came in and told me that the Germans were
sending over 'tear gas.' So on with my gas helmet. The gas shells were
bursting outside the windows; but I thought it safe to take off my
helmet after a few minutes; my eyes watered a good deal, that was all.
At about midnight I went to bed.

"For three hours I slept quite comfortably. At 3.15 I was awakened by a
terrific row. The whole place was shaking like an earthquake; the wall
was quivering; our guns were firing rapid as fast as ever they could go;
every gun in the city, in fact, every gun on the British Front for
miles, was pounding the enemy with shells. A man came in to say that the
order was 'everybody down in the cellar.' So I threw some clothes on and
went down there. There was a crowd down there. The parties which had
been out working had returned, but not without casualties; there had
been a few killed and wounded. At a table in the centre of the room, a
lamp on it, sat Captain Andrews, in his shirt sleeves, and other
officers, seriously contemplating a message which had arrived, the
purport of which they were trying to understand. The man who had
brought it was under arrest as a suspected spy; but after inquiries had
been made at Brigade it was discovered that he was perfectly _bona
fide_; So Major Brighten ordered him to be set free.

"I found myself next to Verity, so I asked him whatever all this hubbub
was about. He replied that it was the expected push on our right--'the
Messines push'--taking place. The New Zealanders (and Australians, the
36th Ulster Division, the 16th South Ireland Division, the 23rd
Division, and the 47th London Division) were going over the top, and
this was our barrage. Captain Andrews said that this was a bombardment
which our guns were conducting, double in intensity to any which we
inflicted upon the enemy during the Battle of the Somme! It was a row
indeed, and it continued for some time. Then dawn broke, and it had
slackened. At 5.30 we came upstairs and had some refreshment in the
mess; the gramophone was set going ('The Bing Boys'--'Another little
drink wouldn't do us any harm'--was the precise record which was put on
as soon as we entered the mess!); things were much quieter, but we were
expecting the Germans to retaliate."

It was at these early morning breakfast parties in the Prison that the
grim significance of the word "Gate" impressed itself upon me. "Which
gate did you come in at?" was a very common question which one officer
would ask another on their return from work in the trenches. "I came in
by the Dixmude Gate," or "I came in by the Menin Gate," would be the
reply. And some would say that they had avoided "gates" altogether and
threaded their way across the open. These gates were places of evil
omen. The enemy had the exact range of them, and knew when working
parties would be likely to be passing them. And upon no spot was
conferred a greater legacy of awe than upon the Menin Gate. It was
always one of the most terrible spots in Ypres. People were killed there
every day. To go past the Menin Gate was considered to be asking for it.
So a terror of the Menin Gate was bred in me before I had ever seen the
gruesome, stinking spot. And the Menin Gate had taken its toll on
Messines Night.

My letter continues: "At 6 I went to bed again. Just as I was doing so,
gas shells began to burst once more, but we did not smell much; the wind
could not have been very favourable to the enemy. I soon got to sleep
again. We all did. In my room, apart from myself, there are Verity,
Priestley, and Barker. They are in different companies from me.

"We got up at midday to-day. Things are very much quieter; there are
only, on an average, about one or two bangs per minute; and those are
generally caused by our guns firing shells on the enemy. Very few German
shells have burst here to-day since the terrible bombardment in the
early hours of the morning. We lost no officers last night, but a few
non-commissioned officers and men were killed and wounded while
returning last night. An official message has come through that all our
objectives were captured this morning."

It was on this afternoon that Major Brighten gathered all officers
together for a conference in Headquarters Mess, and read out to us, in
great exultation, a "secret" Special Order of the Day by Sir Douglas
Haig dated, if I remember rightly, the day before Messines. I wish I had
a copy of that Order in my hands now in order that I might quote it
verbatim here. In the course of his Order I remember the Field-Marshal
declared that another such blow as those which we had inflicted upon the
enemy on the Somme, on the Anare, and at Arras would win the war! Major
Brighten, with his eternal optimism, honestly believed it; and so did
everybody else. Everybody was effervescing with excitement about
Plumer's brilliant victory at Messines. I hold now with Mr. John Buchan,
and I realized then, that "Sir Herbert Plumer had achieved what deserves
to be regarded as in its own fashion a tactical masterpiece"; but, as I
have already pointed out, I took a much more telescopic view of the
World War than that. So, while sharing the satisfaction of the others in
the Messines success, I could not endorse the ultra-optimistic view of
the course of the campaign which Sir Douglas Haig had inspired. Major
Brighten was beaming with delight as he read out Sir Douglas Haig's
Order, and informed us that General Jeudwine and General Stockwell, with
whom he had just been conversing, were equally "bucked" about it all.
And he laughingly chaffed me upon my pessimism. I told him quite frankly
that I did not share the general opinion.

That night only one company had to go out to work, and the company
detailed was C Company; so I was not affected.

In the course of a letter written the following day (June 8) I wrote:

"I went to bed about 10 last night. About 2, Barker, Priestley, and
Verity returned from their working parties. Priestley was very doleful;
he was mournfully discussing the horrors of the war, and of his
evening's experiences in particular. And it appears that there was some
reason, for he had been in command of a party of eight whose mission had
been to fetch back some steel helmets from the trenches. (A ruse had
been played upon the Boche on Messines Night. A large number of helmets
had been placed in such a position as to encourage the Boche to think
that we were concentrating troops there instead of, or as well as, at
Messines and Wytschaete!) They were returning, and Priestley was
remarking that the Boche was very quiet just at present, when a shell
burst amongst them. Four of his party were wounded and one killed; and a
piece of shrapnel went right through the tube of his box-respirator, he
himself escaping unhurt. A near shave! 'Well, do you think those helmets
were worth the life of one man and injury to four others?' I heard him
asking."

In my next letter (June 9) I wrote:

"There was only one working party last night. I went to bed at 10 p.m.
At 10.20 there was a terrible row on our front. A big artillery duel was
going on, machine-guns were firing continuously, and flares were going
up! I sat up in bed and watched it all through the prison bars. It went
on for about twenty minutes! I should think it must have been a raid of
some sort. Shortly after this, Priestley came to bed, and, later, Verity
and Barker. We had quite a long discussion upon all kinds of topics
ranging from the conduct of the war (East versus West), and the doctrine
of the Apostolical Succession, to the character and policy of Winston
Churchill (whom, of course, they all detest!), and the pre-war morals of
civilian Ypres, concerning which Barker held very decided views. We
went on arguing until dawn broke! Then we got to sleep.

"I rose at 10 this morning. When I entered the mess for breakfast I was
greeted by the inquiry from Captain Andrews: 'How's Palestine?' They all
think that the war will end out here and in two or three months' time!
They think that the next great offensive will end it. I admit that there
is a great deal to be said for their theory; our plans are good, and if
successful, will probably do the trick; but I am none too sanguine. We
shall see. I hope they are right. Everybody does. Everybody is 'fed up'
with the war; that goes without saying. I have not read a single one of
the men's letters in which they do not say that. To say that, and to
inform their people that they are 'in the pink' is the stock substance
of their letters!

"I ought now to tell you something about my platoon. To give you the
names of my non-commissioned officers is surely not giving away any
information which would be of use to the enemy! So I do not see why I
should not do so.

"As I may already have told you I am in command of No. 7 platoon. My
platoon sergeant (second-in-command) is Sergeant Williams. (He was a
waiter in Parker's Restaurant in St. Ann's Square, Manchester, in
pre-war days). A platoon consists of four sections, each of which is
commanded by a corporal. My sections are as follows: Rifle Section
commanded by Lance-Corporal Tipping; Bombing Section commanded by
Lance-Corporal Livesey; Lewis Gun Section commanded by Lance-Corporal
Topping; and Rifle Grenade Section commanded by Corporal Baldwin. You
will notice that a Lewis Gun Section is part of every platoon; I think
that is sufficient answer to your question whether the fact of my
attending lectures on the Lewis Gun meant that I should go into a Lewis
Gun Section.

"There has not been much to do to-day; nor has anything very notable
happened during the day up to now. It is now 6.40 p.m. So I will close."

"June 10th.

"Last night the whole Battalion went out on working parties; so I had
command of a party. My party was detailed to repair the parapet of a
communication trench just behind our front line. I set off with Sergeant
Williams and a party of fourteen men of my platoon at 9.40, just as it
was getting dark. We were soon in the open fields and so could see all
around us the ruined buildings of the great city. Three shells fell
across the path we had traversed, _after_ we had passed the points.
Fritz was just a little too late on each occasion! We went on in the
dusk, amidst the flashes of booming guns and exploding shells and
flares lighting up the weird ruins and ghostly country, as far as a dump
(Potidje) where the remainder of the Battalion appeared to be
congregated. It occurred to me what a number would have been knocked out
if a shell had burst just by this dump just then! Fortunately no such
thing happened. Tools were drawn here; then we proceeded on our way by
platoons. The whole region was swarming with little wooden crosses where
lie the thousands who have fallen on this oft-fought, long-fought, ever
contending, battlefield. We threaded our way along a winding
communication trench (Pagoda Trench). We passed a party in the trench
with bayonets fixed--a party of one officer, Lieutenant Alexander, and
thirty men of the 1/4th King's Own--waiting to go over the top for a
bombing raid on a section of the enemy front line. 'Good-byee!' they
laughed as we passed them. Eventually we reached the point at which we
were to commence work. Flares were going up the whole time; the enemy
_must_ have seen us: the whole crowd of us all in the open by the side
of the trench which was to be repaired! When a flare goes up the whole
place is as light as day for a few seconds; and they were going up all
round the Salient--what remains of it, one side disappeared on Thursday
morning! Now and then a machine-gun would rattle a few rounds, and we
would all duck down; but none of them were ranged on our party.

"At 11.20 I was informed that Captain Andrews wished to see me; and,
with some difficulty, I found him. He was in a trench with the other B
Company officers and Sergeant-Major Hoyle. He had sent for us in order
to tell us that at 11.35 we must each bring our parties into a certain
trench (Oxford Road) for refuge as we knew that the bombing raid was
coming off at 11.45, and we expected that the Germans would retaliate.
So I brought my party into this trench at the appointed time. We were
there just in time. At 11.45 our barrage--artillery, stokes-mortars and
machine-guns--opened on the section of the enemy trench to be raided
(Ibex Trench from Oskar Farm to The Stables) a little to our right; and
as our barrage lifted, the bombers went into the enemy trench. We could
hear the bombs exploding. The enemy replied by sending 'whizz-bangs' in
the vicinity of the trench in which we were taking refuge. Some of them
burst within a yard or two of us; but we crouched behind the parapet,
and there were no casualties.

"At about 12.30 this morning, when the raid was over and things had
quieted, we emerged from the trench and went back to the job. Just
before we got back an ugly instrument of death familiarly known amongst
the boys as a 'minnie' burst about the spot where our work was. That
was not encouraging! But we went back and set to again. One or two more
'minnies' burst not far from us while we were there. You should have
seen us duck! And the flares continued rising and falling. We constantly
heard the shells from the big guns screaming like express trains over
our heads; and every now and then a machine-gun or a Lewis gun would
spurt forth its bullets. We felt anything but comfortable! One man in C
Company was carried away with very bad shell-shock--a 'Blighty' all
right! None of us were sorry when 2 came. Major Brighten came along just
before it was time to stop. 'Is that you, Floyd? How are you going on?'
he inquired as he passed me. He is liked by everybody. He is awfully
nice.

"Major Brighten is the young Major who is temporarily in command of the
Battalion while the real Commanding Officer--the notorious Colonel
Best-Dunkley--is home on leave. By the way--I have not seen Colonel
Best-Dunkley yet. He was away when I arrived. I am told that it is a
treat in store for me! He is simply hated by everybody. His reputation
as a beast is famed in 'Blighty.' I heard about him in the 5th Reserve;
and Brian Kemp told me about him when we were in Harrogate. He is
discussed here every day. From what I hear he is a horrible tyrant;
nobody has a good word to say for him. So I am looking forward to
seeing this extraordinary man. He is only twenty-seven! His greeting to
Verity when he arrived a month ago was: 'Who the d---- are you?'

"As soon as it was 2 a.m. we set off back. Going back is generally
considered the most dangerous of all; it is then that most of the
casualties occur. When we were going along one winding communication
trench shells began to burst in front of us right in our course. We bent
down and dashed through the hundred yards or so which these shells were
sweeping as fast as we could go. It was very hot, but we did not trouble
about that; that did not matter; to get safely past the shells was the
important thing. We got through all right, and we managed to get all the
way back to the Prison without a single casualty. I can tell you we felt
very happy when we were safely inside. To think that one should look to
the cells of a prison as a haven of refuge!

"In Lieutenant Alexander's bombing raid five German prisoners were
captured--they are in here now--and three killed. Alexander sustained no
casualties whatever, and got back safely.

"We had breakfast at 3 a.m. and I went to bed about 4 a.m. I rose at 12
this morning. At breakfast we learnt some very good news. To-morrow we
are leaving here and going into rest billets a long way behind the line
for some time. Everybody is very happy indeed about it; I think we
shall have a fine time there. So you have absolutely nothing to worry
about now for quite a long time...."

"Things are very quiet to-day. We had our usual gas parade outside this
afternoon.

"Latterly all the men have been walking about with a windy expression on
their faces; now everybody looks gay in anticipation of the time in
front of us. Don't you think I am really exceedingly lucky? I do."

FOOTNOTE:

[2] _Story of the 55th Division_, by Rev. J. O. Coop (page 25).

CHAPTER III

ENTER BEST-DUNKLEY

The following letter, written on June 12, at Millain, recounts my first
impressions of the colonel whose name figures on the title-page of this
book:

"We are now in rest billets a long way behind the line. I write to
narrate to you the journey.

"On Sunday (June 10) I went to bed about 10 p.m., and had only been in
bed half an hour when a very intense battle appeared to have broken out
on our right. A violent artillery duel was in progress, with the usual
accompaniments. The thunder of the guns continued for quite a long time.
I think there must have been something big on: either a further advance
of Plumer's Army or a counter-attack by the Crown Prince Rupprecht. It
was a big row.

"Apropos of Sir Herbert Plumer, the victor of Messines: we were in his
Second Army until that battle; now we have been transferred to Sir
Hubert Gough's Fifth Army. I was amused when I heard Priestley telling
his servant that we had moved into General Gough's Army; the servant
replied 'Oh, he's a fighting man, isn't he, sir? We're in for something
big now!' (General Gough had the reputation of being 'a fire eater.')

"Reveille went at 5.30 yesterday morning. We had breakfast in bed at 6.
It was arranged by Major Brighten that the Battalion should leave the
city by platoons, each platoon moving off at five minutes interval from
the ones in front and behind of it. I moved off with the seventh platoon
at 8.10. We marched through the city as happily as if we were a Sunday
School trip, looking at the magnificent ruins as we passed. Scarcely a
gun was fired on either side the whole time. Things were extraordinarily
quiet. On any ordinary occasion we would have been observed by the enemy
aircraft and strafed like ----; but fortunately it was very dull at the
time, the clouds precluding observation. The weather was in our favour.
The whole Battalion got safely away without a single casualty! An
astonishing feat. Major Brighten has reason to feel very pleased with
himself. We marched along the road for a distance of about four miles,
and then halted and concentrated; then we marched on together and at 10
a.m. reached the transport camp where I first appeared last Tuesday
evening. Here the Battalion was halted and left to have lunch. The
officers were allowed to go into the town (Poperinghe) and have lunch
there if they wished. Donald Allen, the commander of the fifth platoon,
and I, got lifts on two motors down to the town. Then we had baths at
the Divisional Baths there. We then set off to the Officers' Club for
lunch; but just before we got there two other officers called out to us
from the opposite side of the road. They inquired whether we were going
to the Club; and when we replied that we were, they exclaimed: 'Don't;
the C.O.'s there!'

"'Who? _The_ C.O.--Colonel Best-Dunkley?' we asked.

"'Yes,' was the reply. So we jolly well did not go; we went to a
restaurant instead! Apparently Colonel Best-Dunkley had now returned.
Everybody was very fed up at his return.

"At 2 we turned up at the station. The news of the Commanding Officer's
return had already spread throughout the Battalion. We got our platoons
entrained, and then proceeded to the officers' carriages. It was
rumoured that Colonel Best-Dunkley was going to travel by a particular
carriage. You should have seen how that carriage was boycotted! Nobody
would go into it. They preferred to crowd out the other carriages and
leave the tainted carriage empty. It was most noticeable. I do not think
there is a single person in the Battalion who would not rather travel
with the devil incarnate than with Colonel Best-Dunkley.

"He appeared on the scene shortly. There was a flutter of low mutterings
as he appeared. I was very interested to see this extraordinary man of
whom I had heard so much. He stopped two or three doors away from our
own and stood talking to someone inside the carriage. He is small,
clean-shaven, with a crooked nose and a noticeable blink. He looks
harmless enough; but I noticed something about his eyes which did not
look exactly pleasant. He looks more than twenty-seven. When war broke
out he was a lieutenant. It is interesting to note that he was educated
at a military school in Germany! (And he had travelled a good deal in
the Far East. 'When I was in China' was one of his favourite topics of
conversation.) I have not yet spoken to the man, so I am not yet in a
position to judge him myself. I will tell you my own opinion of him when
I have had a little experience of him. I may just remark that an officer
observed in the mess this morning that he supposed that there were some
people who liked the Kaiser, but he was sure that there was not a single
soul who liked Best-Dunkley! That is rather strong.

"Well our train moved off at about 3 p.m. We travelled through pleasant
country to a little town which I cannot, of course, name. (Esquelbeck.)
Here we had tea. I may mention that this place was just over the
frontier--that is to say 'Somewhere in France.'

"Refreshed by our tea (for the preparation of which Padre Newman was
mainly responsible), we began our long march at 7.15 in the evening. We
marched to a village ten miles away (to Millain via Zeggers,
Erkelsbrugge, Bollezeele, and Merekeghem). Colonel Best-Dunkley had gone
on by himself; he left Major Brighten to carry on for the remainder of
the journey. We had the band with us. I enjoyed the march immensely. It
was a beautiful evening and the pretty villages through which we marched
looked at their best. One thing which I have particularly noticed in
France and Belgium is this: that a village, however small, seems to
possess a large and magnificent church. I have not seen a single village
in Belgium or France where the church is not the most prominent object.
And I think that the villages are much healthier and prettier, and in
every way much more inviting, than the towns. It is in such a village
with such a church in pretty rural surroundings that I am now stationed.
Darkness fell while we were on the march. We got here about 10.30,
feeling considerably tired and ready for bed. Talbot Dickinson had been
here a day or two and had arranged about billets. So the men were
immediately shown into their billets. I am billeted in a farm-house; I
have a nice little bedroom all to myself, and sleep in a civilian bed.
So I am very well off. What do you say? I have nothing to grumble about
as regards my quarters. B Company is billeted in the two barns belonging
to this farm: two platoons in each barn. The Company parade in a
delightful field the other side of the barns. There are three officers'
messes: Headquarters and two of two combined companies. B and A
Companies mess together in a house about two minutes' walk from this
farm. Battalion Orderly Room is in a house about five minutes' walk from
here. The other companies are in other parts of the village. General
Stockwell and the remainder of the Brigade have not yet arrived, but
they will be following on shortly. I am very happy here. The weather has
been delightful, and the country looks fine. The trees here are very
tall indeed. There was a heavy downpour of rain at tea-time: the first
real rain we have had while I have been in France this time.

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