The History of the 33rd Divisional Artillery, in the War, 1914-1918. — Text and Context

CHAPTER I. EARLY DAYS

August 1914 and its succeeding months will ever recall to the minds of that generation which was privileged to live through those epic days memories of a great turmoil, a chaos, a shattering of that normal—and in many cases humdrum—existence which to the majority represented Life. The outstanding impression will depend upon the character of the person who looks back—to some it will be a sense of overwhelming surprise, to some a rending and shattering of all their dreams of a long-awaited happy future, while to some it will be the promise of Great Adventure, the chance of seeing Life face to face and stripped of all its petty adornments and falsities, a sight vouchsafed to few and one which of necessity brings with it the presence of that companion Death, so closely allied to Life in its fierce and primitive state. Yet whatever the recollection and whatever may be the impressions retained, to one and all remains that proud memory of the wild enthusiasm which greeted the call to arms, the readiness to fight, to leave comfortable homes, to give up everything because the Country called for men; because the Country, whatever the cause of the war might be, was in peril.

The 33rd Divisional Artillery, as its number implies, was not one of the first to be formed. So great was the early rush to the recruiting stations that the machinery to deal with the enlistment of men was unable to cope with it, and it was not until January 14th, 1915, that a War Office letter addressed to the Mayor of Camberwell authorised the recruiting of the 156th Brigade, Royal Field Artillery, by Major Frederick Hall M.P. in the Borough of Camberwell. So prompt was the response to this call that in March further authority was granted for the recruitment of the 162nd Brigade R.F.A. in the same neighbourhood, the formation of this Brigade being completed by the middle of May, when it was placed under the command of Major Duncan. It was then brought to the attention of the authorities that there still remained masses of excellent material in Camberwell, that the district was overflowing with would-be recruits not yet enlisted, and that the whole of the 33rd Divisional Artillery might well be raised from there—a scheme which was received by the Borough with the greatest enthusiasm. The required authority was obtained; the 166th and 167th Brigades R.F.A., the 126th Battery of Heavy Artillery and the attendant Ammunition Column were formed, and on June 1st 1915 the 33rd Divisional Artillery, as such, was complete, manned to its full strength, and manned by the men of Camberwell and Dulwich.

Meantime, from the day on which the first recruits had arrived, training was carried on with the utmost vigour. N.C.O. instructors were scarce, very few officers had been posted to the Division, and any kind of uniform was noticeable by its absence. The early training of recruits in those days was not calculated to enhance in their minds the glamour of war; clad in the roughest and, in many cases, most tattered of civilian clothes, shod in the boots which they had brought with them, they were taught—day in, day out—that there were many accomplishments which they must learn before they would be fit for service in the field; that personal gallantry, a feeling of complete superiority over the enemy, and a fixed intention of "sticking it with the best" would not alone take them to France. They must learn to indulge in that strange form of recreation known as "knees bending with arms raising," and all its accompanying acrobatics; they must be initiated into the mysteries of knotting and lashing, of horse management, of dismounted drill and a hundred and one other matters which go to form the training of a soldier. And then, when their knees ached with bending and stretching, when their brains whirled in trying to fashion some especially important and therefore, to their minds, difficult knot, when some of the most tender portions of their anatomy felt as though one more minute in the saddle would cut right through to the bone, Gunnery descended upon them. Gunnery, with its drill and its intricate and complicated mechanism, opened out a completely new item of training, a hitherto untrodden part of the long and tedious road which led from Camberwell and Dulwich to the battlefields of France. Yet to the weary mind of the recruit there was one great consolation. Here at last was something tangible; here was something which spoke of War, which brought him much nearer to the goal of his endeavours. "Physical jerks" and the lurid remarks of riding masters were all very well in their way, but the average recruit had no intention of lying on his back outside a trench in France and of solemnly raising his feet in the air to let them have a look, as it were, at fresh surroundings; he had no desire to trot along a road behind the Line without stirrups or reins, although he was quite prepared to recognise that it was a useful feat to be able to perform. No, he wanted to fling shells at the enemy, to be able to inflict upon the "other side" all that extreme discomfort which artillery is capable of administering; he wanted, in short, a gun, and at last he saw one before him.

It was this shortage of guns for drill and instructional purposes which of necessity delayed the training of the batteries. During the time the brigades were at Dulwich there were only dummy loaders and three 15-pounders available, nor was it until July that four 18-pounders arrived to be divided up amongst the whole Division. Training, however, in other essentials was briskly carried on in and around Dulwich. Cold shoers were sent to Herold's Institute at Bermondsey, cooks to St. John's Wood, artificers to Woolwich, while every officer on joining was sent on a course of instruction to either Larkhill or Shoeburyness. Map-reading classes were conducted by Army-Schoolmaster Wilmot, and Lady Bathurst, with the assistance of ladies of the district, gave lessons in French and German twice a week. As far as billeting was concerned, the men of the 156th Brigade and the Divisional Ammunition Column were allowed to live at their own homes; the 162nd Brigade was housed at Gordon's Brewery, the 166th Brigade at the Tramway Depôt, Peckham, while the 167th Brigade was partly billeted at home and partly at the East Dulwich Baths. Such an arrangement of scattered billets could hardly be hoped to succeed, especially when it is remembered that in the earlier days the men were without uniform—a red, blue or white armlet alone denoting the exalted presence of a Sergeant, Corporal or Bombardier respectively. Yet gradually and steadily a change became visible; slowly there appeared from out of the disorganised and shapeless mass of men a clear-cut, firm formation, a sense of discipline and orderliness, the beginnings of a unit of the British Army.

Inspections were numerous at this time; during the months from March to July the Divisional Artillery was, in fact, inspected no fewer than seven times by Major-General Sir Francis Lloyd, Major-General Sir T. Perrott, and Colonel M. Peake. At the earlier inspections the men were still in civilian clothes, as was the 167th Brigade at the recruiting march on Peckham Rye which took place on May 1st, but shortly after that date a full supply of uniform was received, and the men were properly and thoroughly equipped in every way. Much could be related, incidentally, with regard to the recruiting march just mentioned; it was the march of the men of a district through that district, and aimed at getting more recruits for the men's own unit. Suffice it to say that those recruits were obtained, and if the enthusiasm of the proceedings gave rise to some curious and amusing situations, if there rode upon the ammunition wagons (with which the batteries were now fully equipped) some whose right to ride there might well be questioned, who could object? The war was still young, enthusiasm was still high, men were still wanted.

It was probably in the first two weeks of August that Camberwell really grasped what the 33rd Divisional Artillery meant to it, for in those days it lost it. It is a curious irony of life that few things are really appreciated until they are gone, and then appreciation comes too late. Through all these earlier days of training the men had been living in or near their homes, but now there came a change, Adventure became Reality, for the batteries were moved for the rest of their training from London to Bulford. Night after night, from August 4th till August 10th, there crept out of Waterloo station trains bound for Bulford, packed with horses, men and wagons, setting out on the second stage of their work; night after night there were left in Camberwell homes very empty, hearts very dreary at the arrival of that time which all had known must come, but the coming of which was in no wise softened by this fore-knowledge.

Bulford wrought a tremendous change in the Divisional Artillery, which was now under the command of its own C.R.A. Brigadier-General Stuart. Here there was room to move; there was different country to work over each day; there were schemes on a far more elaborate scale than had been possible at Dulwich. The official syllabus of training was steadily worked through, and gradually this training became more interesting, more attractive as dull routine was left behind and sham warfare put into practice. The batteries were fully equipped with guns, even the 167th Brigade, which was a 4·5 in. howitzer brigade and had been greatly handicapped by a total inability to get howitzers from anywhere, being finally fitted out, and at last, in the early part of November, the batteries were given a chance of putting into effect on the practice ranges all that they had been learning by tedious and hard work during the period of training. One hundred rounds per battery were fired, and in most cases the results were very satisfactory when the shortness of training and the utter lack of previous experience were taken into account. The batteries were complimented by General Drake on the good service and drill at the guns, and returned to camp more anxious than ever to get to France, more keen than ever to fire a shot in anger now that they had fired one in cold blood. Rumour, already in high activity throughout the camp, became trebly busy since there appeared no further obstacle to keep the Division in England, and rumour was strengthened by the granting to the men of that last leave—overseas leave—which was given prior to departure for France.

It was in December that it came, December 6th to be quite accurate. Just a bald official order to proceed overseas, accompanied by a mass of typewritten time-tables, march tables and all the paraphernalia inevitable in a move of such dimensions. The great moment had arrived at last, the moment for which all had waited so long, so eagerly and with such excitement, and any pangs which might naturally have been felt at a parting such as this, any dark forebodings which a look into the future might have called up, were mercifully and naturally effaced by the bustle, the excitement, the "fever," if you like, of the whole affair.

On December 10th, at 4 P.M., the entraining of the batteries began at Amesbury and continued at intervals throughout the night. Fifty-one trains in all it took to move the batteries and their attendant ammunition columns, the last train leaving Amesbury at 4.5 P.M. on December 12th. Two days of bustle and excitement, two days of movement and stir around Amesbury, two days during which the station was crowded and packed with horses, guns and men sweating, heaving, swearing—and then silence. As though by a magic hand the 33rd Divisional Artillery was picked up and disappeared, and for a space it was hidden from the sight of man.

CHAPTER II. FIRST EXPERIENCES OF WAR IN THE LA BASSÉE SECTOR. (DECEMBER 1915—JULY 1916).

On a foggy afternoon, typical of Flanders in December, there crept into Aire station a long and heavy train obvious even to the lay mind as a troop train, consisting as it did not only of ordinary passenger coaches, but also of innumerable horse boxes and a line of long open trucks crammed with guns and wagons. Every window was crowded with faces—the faces of British soldiers surveying with interest this, to most of them, new and strange land, listening with a thrill to the distant mutter of guns, looking with eagerness for signs of war and for a first view of the billets in which, for the next few days at any rate, they were to live. At Hazebrouck and at Lillers similar trains were pulling in, disgorging on to the track men, horses and guns in what might appear to be indescribable confusion, but which had in it all a method and a certain order. To the inhabitants there was nothing new in this sight; scores of times had they seen the arrival of fresh units from England in just this manner, but to the men themselves the affair was one of the utmost significance. As a unit they were making their first appearance within actual reach of the scene of war, and the unit was that one whose history the ensuing pages will endeavour to record; it was the 33rd Divisional Artillery once more, the batteries of which for days had been swallowed up, not exactly in the fog of actual war, but in the impenetrable maze of Lines of Communication. For days they had been just a memory, a rumour, an entry on the time-tables of various R.T.O.s, scattered about the railway line between Havre and Aire; for days they had indulged in wanderings which at times made them wonder exactly where the war was to be found, and at last in their estimation they had found it.

It must not be supposed that the journey of the Division from Amesbury to its billets in the "rest" area was one long, smooth, perfectly run affair. Far from it! On arrival at Southampton it was found that two of the transports were in the wrong berths, while the engines of a third had broken down; as a result, one brigade had to disembark and be broken up into small parties, each party going on to a different ship. On arrival at Havre mistakes had been made with regard to the accommodation of the men, and one wretched party which marched seven miles out to Harfleur had to return again over the same weary road before a shelter could be found. In fact, the journey in trucks marked "Hommes 40, chevaux 8" (a phrase no less sinister in practice than in meaning) marked the termination of a period of discomfort and homelessness which few who shared therein will ever forget. When one remembers, however, the mighty forces which during these months were moved from England to France, the actual fresh units which came over railways overloaded with ammunition and supplies for troops already in the Line, one cannot help recognising the ability and organisation which enabled such work to be carried out, and which moved a division of artillery to scheduled time across a railway system already strained to breaking point.

It was on December 10th, it will be remembered, that the Divisional Artillery disappeared so mysteriously from England; on December 16th, at 2.30 P.M., the concentration of the same Divisional Artillery was reported to be complete in the Aire-Thiennes area. The cloud of mystery was once more lifted: the batteries were known to be "somewhere in France." Actually, the area in which they were billeted was the rest area of the First Corps; they were attached to the division in reserve, and were billeted in the villages of Mazinghem, Berguette, Guarbecque and Mt. Bernanchon.

The first few days in France proved rather a disappointment. Everybody (other than those who had been "out" before) had come full of ideas about the war, mostly taken from picture papers and so-called war stories; most of the men had somehow expected to find themselves well within sight and hearing of the battle itself, with all the accompanying thrills of aeroplane fights, shelling in the distance, ambulances and what not, and what did they find? An ordinary village, rather dirty and very muddy; a flat, uninteresting country and the usual routine of stables, watering, exercise and gun drill—just a continuation of the training which they had carried out at Bulford, with the difference that away on the horizon there was that continuous giant thudding, that heavy sullen muttering which betokened artillery at work, not now in mere practice but in grim earnest.

However, it was not of much good being in France unless use was made of the proximity of the war for instructional purposes, and so, two days after the completed concentration, parties were sent from each of the brigades to be attached to the 2nd Divisional Artillery, then holding the line on the La Bassée front from Givenchy on the north nearly to Fosse 8, the scene of such fierce fighting in the Loos offensive, on the south. These parties were conveyed by motor-bus to Cambrin, Annequin and Gorre, whence they were led on foot by guides to the positions of the batteries to which they were attached. Six parties in all went up from the brigades between December 18th and January 11th, the duration of stay in the line being usually four days, so that by the end of the second week in January all the officers, N.C.O.s, and gunners had had their first look at the war, had seen their first glimpse of the enemy lines, had had their first experience of shell fire.

About the middle of January the batteries were considered to have gained sufficient experience to merit their taking a more strenuous part in the war, and complete batteries were accordingly sent up in turn to take over the positions of the 12th Divisional Artillery (63rd and 64th Brigades R.F.A.) and of the 2nd Divisional Artillery (9th, 17th, 48th, 56th and 71st batteries), stretching from Givenchy down to Vermelles. As a rule three batteries were sent up at a time for six days, the wagon line work and ammunition supply being carried out by the batteries to which they were attached, while those not in the line continued training, with a few inspections and sudden wild rumours to help pass the time. Of inspections there were two:—on January 20th C/166 was reviewed by General Joffre, while on January 26th the 162nd, 166th and 167th Brigades were inspected by Lieut.-General Sir Hubert Gough, then commanding the 1st Corps. As, prior to this, the 156th Brigade had lined the route in December to bid farewell to Field-Marshal Lord French, the whole Division in its early days had an opportunity of seeing three great men whose names were to be connected so closely with the history of the war.

The demon Rumour held widespread popularity at this time; rumours of sudden moves to a different part of the line; rumours of a sudden advance to support our infantry—anything, in fact, which billet gossip could evolve on a quiet evening. Nor was this gossip entirely to blame if it gave rise to so many rumours, for official orders and counter-orders themselves gave plenty of scope for wonder to the average brain. As an example of the continual uncertainty which prevailed regarding future movements, the case of the Divisional Ammunition Column might well be taken. On January 26th it was ordered to stand by, ready for a sudden move; this order was cancelled at 1.30 A.M. on January 27th, was revived again at 5.30 the same evening with the additional information that it must be ready to move at two hours' notice, and was finally cancelled at 11.35 P.M. that night. Nothing immediate came of these rumours, and all through February the same training, now grown very tedious after the interest of a first visit to the Line, was carried on. A somewhat ambitious plan of two-day manœuvres was carried out in the First Army area around Estrée-Blanche and Therouane on the last days of January by those batteries which were not at the time undergoing training in the Line, but February 1st saw a resumption of the old billet life again.

DECEMBER 1915—MAY 1916.

C.R.A. Brigade Major. Staff Captain.

Brig.-Gen. C. F. Blane, C.M.G. Major Sheppard. Capt. T. Usher.