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The Auckland Regiment

XXIII Ypres

page 165

XXIII Ypres

"There's a little hill in Flanders
Heaped with a thousand slain;
Where the shells fall night and noonday,
And the ghosts that died in vain.
A little hill,
A hard hill,
To the souls that died in pain."

At Wizemes the Battalions detrained and found the Y.M.C.A. in readiness with a cup of cocoa and a packet of biscuits for each man. Thus refreshed, the men clambered on the waiting motor-lorries and rattled off through the moonlight past Setques and Esquerades, along the St. Omer-Boulogne highroad to the villages of the Lumbres area. 1/Auckland billetted in Quesques, a charming little village nestling at the foot of high hills. 2/Auckland occupied the two small hamlets of Fromentelles and Harlettes, which, although somewhat deficient in estaminets for those of a bibulous habit, were yet pleasant places enough. 3/Auckland, some kilometres along the road toward Boulogne, were perhaps the most fortunate of all. Their village of Le Waast was not only of considerable size, but was sufficiently close to Boulogne to make an occasional trip to that interesting town quite a possible thing.

Training was commenced at once, and was of a most practical nature. Great stress was laid upon platoon and section tactics, and on the "taking of pill-boxes." Wood-fighting and the counter-attack also received a considerable amount of attention.

For some time there had been a strong rumour to the effect that the Main Body and the first three reinforcements were to be given an extended furlough, for the purpose of visiting New Zealand. At last it seemed that the rumour was about to materialise. Applications were invited, and many of the page 166Main Body began to take quite a fresh interest in life. Most of them, naturally enough, rushed the opportunity, being very tired of war, and very eager to get home again. A few, however, refused point blank to consider the proposition until such time as the war was won. However, nothing more was done at that time, and it was many months before the first man got away. On the other hand, leave both to "Blighty" and to Paris was fairly liberal.

The Y.M.C.A. had gradually become one of the main features of the Division. In Armentieres it was represented by one man—J. L. Hay, an enthusiast, a tireless worker, and a man of vision. During the Battle of the Sornme it flourished in the rest camp near King George's Hill. Throughout the winter of 1916-1917 it extended its activities. How many men of that period have forgotten the hut at Sailly? On the Messines sector the work grew. The N.Z. Y.M.C.A. had a genius for rapid improvisation, for quick moves, and was the most expert agency in France for "souveniring" anything likely to be of use to itself and therefore to the "Diggers." Round the Y.M.C.A. centred the social, intellectual and religious life of the Division. Large marquees were erected at Quesques, Fromentelles and Le Waast, and within a few hours of the arrival of the Battalions activities were in full swing. 2/Auckland were particularly fortunate in having with them Victor French, a member of the Battalion who was "on loan" to the Y.M. He had enlisted, despite a leg injury that many conscripts would have given large sums to possess. From the Fleurbaix raid until after Messines he fought as an infantryman, and then, being no longer able to march or carry equipment, applied for permission to join the Y.M. This was granted, and Vic. rapidly became one of the celebrities of the Division. He was not clothed in fine raiment, nor did he fare sumptuously. His buttons were never known to dazzle the eyes of anyone, and it is very doubtful whether the Grenadier Guards would have regarded him as a desirable acquisition. But Vic. had a heart of gold. Unselfish to a fault, devoted entirely to the business of serving, always cheerful, always on his job, there was no page 167one quite so enthusiastically whole-hearted as he, no one with the same infectious quality of brotherhood.

During the period of training in the Lumbres area the New Zealand Division had the honour of being reviewed by Field Marshal Sir Douglas Haig. The review took place in a large field outside Fromentelles, and was a most brilliant spectacle. Steel and brass glittered in the sunshine. Platoon by platoon, the Battalions of the 1st, 2nd and 4th Brigades marched past the saluting point. They looked well, and Sir Andrew Russell must have been a proud man as he watched his men go by.

Training finished, and on September 25th the 1st Brigade marched from Lumbres to Renuscure, and then by Wallon Capel and Wardrecques to the Watou area, where the Battalions billetted for two days.

On October 1st the three Auckland Battalions marched along the crowded highroad from Poperinghe to Vlamertinghe, and so into and through the town of Ypres. Once again there was the thrill of expectation. The broken tower of the ruined Cloth Hall had its appeal, even to the most unimaginative. In its glory of desolation and ruin it typified the splendid valour and steadfastness that had saved Europe. It stood foursquare, battered, but still standing—the wall against which the Old Army had set its back and fought to the death. Now it pointed to the skies and spoke of victory. Ypres was no longer the gate bolted and barred against the invader; it was a wide open way through which poured the rising tide of triumph.

Ypres! The very name is a trumpet call to the man of British race. What heroism was there; what steadfast enduring; what faithfulness unto death; what a terror, and horror, and tragedy of defeat, and yet what a glory, and splendour of victory rising crowned from the ashes of despair. Ypres! What a link this name will be between nation and nation in the great Federation of British peoples. Here died the Old Army, and in dying saved the Allied Cause. Here lie the dead of Canada, Australia, South Africa, New Zealand, and intermingled with them everywhere the men of the New Armies. For ever this will be sacred soil.

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Ridge after ridge the wilderness stretched back from St. Julien and Pilkem to Polderhoek and Passchendaele, and from Messines on the one side to the Forest of Houlthurst on the other.

All the beautiful woods were dead, horribly dead. There was no green grass or pleasant herb. The villages were heaps of rubble. The streams that once made glad the smiling valleys were horrible bogs. Over all the wide area no bird sang. For mile after mile shell-hole touched shell-hole, with here and there a great, gaping crater torn by a mine explosion. As far as the eye could see was a wide expanse of dull and dreary brown.

One could hardly follow the line of the old German trenches, so ploughed and torn was all the earth. Line after line their pill-boxes crowned every height, swept every slope, enfiladed every approach. Solidly and with much labour were they built, but frightful was the storm which had burst upon them, rending and smashing the stoutest walls of iron and concrete. Most of them were charnel-houses, from which the garrisons, bombed, or crushed by the falling ruins, had never emerged.

The debris of the battlefield was everywhere; tangled heaps of rusty wire, broken rifles, smashed field guns, rotting pieces of equipment, filthy and torn clothing, empty shell-cases, old tins, riven helmets and all the ruined litter that makes still more hideous the ugly desolation of an old battlefield.

Here and there along some corduroy track leading through the morass is the Via Dolorosa of the horse and the mule. One sees an upturned waggon, then one wheelless, and after that the poor brown carcases, sometimes singly, sometimes in twos and threes, covered with a little earth, quicklime, or altogether uncovered. The tanks look in a pitiful fashion like some huge, terrible uncouth monsters of a prehistoric age, that have had the life blown out of them, or that have been choked in a frightful struggle to flounder through the quaking slough.

Everywhere there is desolation, destruction, and the visible signs of death and decay. On one side of the wilderness are page break
Ypres.

Ypres.

page break
Gravenstafel—Abraham Heights.

Gravenstafel—Abraham Heights.

page 169the cemeteries of the British; on the other from the Butte of Polygon and beyond those of Germany. On the one side is "Rest in Peace," on the other "Hier Ruht in Gott," but above all is the Common Cross. In the central wilderness itself lie a tangle of the dead of all nations in graves which for the most part no man has marked. Here and there a few have been gathered together, and there is a cross rudely shaped and pencil-marked, or perhaps an upturned rifle or broken helmet to mark the spot. Here lies "Ein unbekant Englander," there "An unknown German soldier."

The battlefield of Ypres! It is a dreadful place, hideously bare of all comfort, with no beautiful, or decent, or pleasant thing anywhere to be seen. It is a field of agony and death. No place on earth has been so desecrated by slaughter, no place, save Calvary, so consecrated by sacrifice.

The succession of low hills stretching back from the town to Passchendaele formed the buttress of the German line in the north. If these were taken the flank of the enemy would be turned, and he would assuredly be driven from the Flanders coast, thus losing the submarine bases of Ostend and Zeebrugge. The matter was urgent. Submarine sinkings were rapidly on the increase. Unless the loss of tonnage was reduced it became increasingly obvious that Germany would win the war. Time was fighting for the enemy. Russia was beaten to the ground, and in a few weeks or months hundreds of thousands of Germans would be transferred to the Western Front. At any price a decision must be quickly reached. So the British Army attacked with all the force it could muster. Once more, as at the Somme, it was a shock battle. During August and September blow after blow had been struck, and ever the final objective was brought nearer. Two things saved the German Army—first the bad weather, and second the "Pill-box System." There were literally thousands of these concrete forts, which as long as any considerable number of them remained intact, rendered a position impregnable to infantry attack. Before every advance these forts had practically to be blasted to pieces. For this an enormous concentrapage 170tion of artillery was necessary. The guns used were mainly heavy howitzers. Roads had to be made to get them into position; light railways constructed to run the heavy shells up to the gun teams. Scores of kite-balloons were flown to observe the movements of the enemy. Aeroplane squadrons buzzed and circled overhead, each one doing its own particular bit. Some bombed the German lines, some observed and sent back wireless messages to the artillery, some guarded the line of balloons, some cruised backward and forward to keep watch that no hostile machine flew over the British lines. Here and there, alone, soaring high, flew a champion of the air ready to swoop down upon his prey or sweep headlong into fight if any valiant man of Germany should fly out to attempt some deed of arms. The organisation of the battlefield was a masterpiece of administrative skill, of ingenuity, of adaptation and of sheer hard work.

Another great battle was at hand, and for the first time since the fight for Sari Bair practically the whole of the Australians and New Zealanders were fighting together. Much had happened since the Peninsula days. In the intervening time New Zealand had become once and for all a nation. No longer was the New Zealander English, Irish, or Scotch. No longer was he even an Australasian. He was a New Zealander, proud of his nationality and passionately proud of the deeds which had given his people a place amongst the free nations of the world. So Australia and New Zealand took their places in the line. The two nations were equally proud of their record; both were resolute, both high-hearted. They claimed, and with reason, that no troops, allied or enemy, could be found to match them. Both were resolved not to be outdone by the other. Rivals in fame, they trusted each other implicitly and trusted fully no other race on earth.

On October 1st, 1/Auckland billetted in the Ypres north area. Lieutenant-Colonel Alderman, C.M.G., who had rejoined after Messines, was in command, with Captain W. P. Gray as adjutant.

The Company Commanders were:—

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  • 3rd Auckland: Captain Coates, M.C.
  • 6th Hauraki: Captain Holland, M.C.
  • 15th North Auckland: Major Marian.
  • 16th Waikato: Captain Parry.

Dr. Nelson and Padre Gavin were still with the Battalion. The fighting strength was 20 officers and 660 O.R.'s

2/Auckland bivouacked in the old British line. Lieutenant Porrit was temporarily acting as adjutant. The Company Commanders were:—

  • 3rd Auckland: Captain Taylor.
  • 6th Hauraki: Captain Thomas.
  • 15th North Auckland: Major McClelland.
  • 16th Waikato: Captain Hubbard.

Dr. Addison had been transferred to the Field Ambulance, and his place was taken by Dr. Lee. The Rev. Dobson was chaplain. It is worth mentioning that Lieutenant Tuck acted through the battle as transport officer, the only occasion on which this officer served as a non-combatant. Both he and Lieutenant Stewart were extremely desirous of commanding their respective platoons in the forthcoming action, but after repeated applications were forbidden to do so. Under the circumstances, the best that could be done was for the one to take the Battalion transport, while the other solaced himself with a Brigade carrying party. The strength was 20 officers and 660 O.R.'s.

3/Auckland, also in the old front line area, had a strength of 20 officers and 660 O.R.'s. They were commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Blair, D.S.O., M.C., with Lieutenant C. Nicholls as adjutant. The companies were commanded by:—

  • 3rd Auckland: Lieutenant H. A. E. Milnes.
  • 6th Hauraki: Captain Dittmer.
  • 15th North Auckland: Captain Evans.
  • 16th Waikato: Captain Gillett.
  • The chaplain was the Rev. Steele Craik.

Throughout the night and the following day there was desultory shelling, which caused a few casualties, and then on page 172the night of the 2nd/3rd, 1st and 3/Auckland moved up and took over the front line.

Two attacks were planned for the New Zealand Division. The first, which was to be undertaken by the 1st and 4th Brigades had the Graven stafel-Ab rah am Heights section of the Broodseinde Ridge as its objective. Success in this operation would clear the way for the final assault on the Belle Vue Spur and Passchendaele, which was to be undertaken in part by the 2nd and 3rd Brigades. For the Gravenstafel action the Division was attacking on a four battalion front, and had orders to penetrate the enemy defence for a distance of about 1700 yards. Crossing the Hannebeek Stream, 1/Auckland, 1/Wellington, 3/Otago and 3/Auckland were to take the enemy system of trenches, pill-boxes and strong points as far as the "Red Line," which ran approximately along the crest of the ridge. 2/Wellington, 2/Auckland, 3/Otago and 3/Canterbury were then to "leapfrog" the leading battalions and go forward to the "Blue Line" at the foot of the Belle Vue Spur. On the right flank of the New Zealanders were the Australian Divisions, and on the left British troops.

Throughout the whole of August the German losses had been very serious, and they were now threatened right at the heart. For several days they had been counter-attacking, but had met with little success. Heavy reinforcements arriving, they had prepared a very great attack for the morning of October 4th. Intelligence of this had reached the British Higher Command some time before, giving them the opportunity to anticipate the enemy move.

On the night of October 3rd/4th the battalions of the second wave moved up to their battle-stations, 2/Auckland occupying the shell-hole area of the Canvas-Capricorn system. During the night the weather broke, and a fine drizzling rain commenced to fall. Men huddled together in the shell-holes, without overcoats, shivering under their oilsheets. The enemy artillery fire became very intense, and remained so during the early hours of the morning. Before daybreak all were standing-to in readiness for the barrage to open. At this hour page 173vitality is always at its lowest. Scarcely anyone has slept, all are chilled to the bone. Breakfast has been a few mouthfuls of bully beef, dry bread and water. Officers and N.C.O.'s move round, giving final instructions; the men stand quietly about, waiting with nerves somewhat on edge after the ordeal of the night. Within a few minutes they will be passing through the deepest and most soul-searching experience that men can undergo. Physically they are quite unfit, but when the body would fail the stronger spiritual forces assert themselves, and the spirit triumphs over the frailty of the-flesh.

1/Auckland, occupying the ground round Cluster-Houses, were lying very close to the enemy strong points at Winzig and Aviatik Farm, from whence came a considerable volume of machine-gun fire, which caused many casualties throughout the night.

Zero hour was at 6 a.m.—ten minutes before the time fixed by the enemy for their counter-attack, and about a quarter of an hour before dawn. Suddenly the sky was red with leaping flame, and the air was full of the rushing of innumerable shells. The long roll of the drumfire beat out into the morning air, while the sharp rattle of the thousands of machine-guns pierced the duller roar of the cannon.

Between the jumping-off point and the first objectives was the bed of the little brook of Hannebeek. The constant heavy shell fire had turned the running stream into a wide bog, which could be traversed only in certain places by winding paths, along which men could pass very slowly and in single file. Crossing this swamp was a terrible strain, as progress was so very slow. The German shell fire was playing with remarkable accuracy on the narrow tracks. Only the softness of the ground, in which the shells failed to explode or were smothered, saved the attacking troops from very severe losses. Immediately on the other side of the swamp resistance was met with, and then all up the hillside groups of the enemy were found. Some were demoralised and surrendered at once. Others fought desperately. The leading companies of 1/Auckland, the 15th and 16th, had a bitter fight for Winzig. The garrison of this page 174strong point were very brave men, and fought with desperate courage. It had been impossible to hide from them the preparations for attack. All night their machine-guns had been active, and as the Aucklanders closed in upon them they rattled in burst after burst of destructive fire. Men went down fast. "Come on, you fellows, follow me!" cried Lieutenant White, as he rushed straight on to the enemy guns. He fell, riddled with bullets. Major Mahan and Captain Parry were killed. But now the flanks, meeting with little opposition, had got round to the side and rear of the German post. Corporal Speakman brought his Lewis gun into play. Lieutenant Lang and his platoon were within bombing range. Captain Coates sent forward men of the 3rd Company to reinforce. The Germans commenced to lose heavily, and their numbers were thinned. From all sides the Aucklanders closed in. Hinchco, Brewer, and many another did gallantly. They rushed in, and Winzig fell. The advance was at once continued under the direction of Captain Coates. On the left flank the British troops had to a certain extent lost direction and touch, thus leaving the Auckland flank exposed to the fire from the entrenched position known as Albatross Farm. Captain Coates swung the 3rd Company into the gap, and then the Red Line having been reached, pressed on along the crest, and finally dug in on the further side of our own barrage. Except for the fight at Winzig, the task had been an easy one, and the casualties were comparatively slight. Battalion Headquarters settled down correctly, but receiving no reports, and seeing no sign of the men sent word back to Brigade that the objectives had been taken, but that only thirty-five men remained—a somewhat disquieting report. The Brigade-Major, Major N. W. B. B. Thorns, D.S.O., M.C., coming up in hot haste to find out if 1/Auckland were actually so much reduced, by carrying out a personal reconnaissance, had little difficulty in finding Captain Coates and the Battalion safely dug in.

Immediately in front of 3/Auckland was the large pill-box known as Otto Farm. This was rushed without difficulty. Fifteen prisoners and four machine-guns were captured. Here page 175fell Lieutenant H. A. E. Milnes, Principal of the Auckland Training College—a man who has left his mark on New Zealand. Crossing the swamp the Battalion very nearly missed the barrage, owing to the hard going across the mud. Boethoek and Bordeaux, on the further slope, were stubbornly defended, but were finally taken, with three more machine-guns. Sergeant Lloyd here distinguished himself. The Van Meulan pillbox, on the crest of the ridge, showed fight. The British barrage was falling all round it. Its left flank was guarded by a machine-gun firing from an open position. Lieutenant Aitken, together with Private Johnson, went out by themselves into the barrage and captured the machine-gun. They then fired into the door of Van Meulan, which a few moments afterwards surrendered. Fifty minutes after zero the Battalion was digging in on the Red Line, where Lieutenant McAdam did excellent work in organising the position.

On the summit of the Gravenstafel Ridge was the strong redoubt of Korek, which was resolutely defended. The machine-gunners, in their concrete shelters, manned their guns, riflemen in shell-holes stood to their weapons. The swing over of 1/Auckland caused a corresponding swing in the direction of 1/Wellington, with the result that certain of these enemy groups, once the barrage had passed over them, were left unmolested until the leading sections of 2/Auckland advanced to go through to the final objective. As the Aucklanders neared Korek they found the conflict still raging fiercely, and were themselves soon fighting.

A section moving forward in file suddenly commenced to lose men from rifle fire. One man lurches forward into a shell-hole, another falls with a cry, clutching at the breast of his tunic, another stumbles to one side and gazes stupidly at a spreading red stain. The remainder take cover. Fifty yards ahead are a file of Huns—their helmets scarcely discernible against the brown background. Rifle fire is opened at once. but it is amazing how many shots miss the mark, even at such an absurdly short range. The morning mist, the battlesmoke, the excitement all have a part in this. One or two of page 176the more venturesome walk, crawl or run forward, and by good iortune reach the flank or rear of the enemy. Under fire from two sides the small centre of resistance commences to crumble. The attackers rush in from front and flank, and the Huns, realising the hopelessness of their position, put up their hands and cry for mercy. Sometimes quarter is given; at other times there is only the shriek of agony as the bayonet goes home. There is even some sort of an attempt at justice. The man whose bayonet is red with the blood of men whom he considers to have forfeited their lives by fighting until the last moment is quite solicitous for the safety of others who have obviously taken no active part in the defence of the position.

When fear enters into a man, body, mind and soul, the result is a condition of abject terror distressing to behold. Many of the Germans had been demoralised by the barrage. In the faint dawn light they had seen the waves of assault sweeping forward, overwhelming machine-gun post and strong point. Isolated and almost alone they felt helpless, hopeless and lost. The wave was surging up toward them. They fired a few shots with fingers that trembled on the triggers and hands that shook. Perhaps a couple of hundred yards away a man dropped here and there, but there was no slackening in the steady push forward of the attacking host. Nothing seemed able to stem the resistless tide. No supports were coming from behind. There was still time to run, but in the path to safety thundered the British barrage. Knees weaken and they cannot run, fear becomes terror, and terror panic, and the panic a madness. Men wrap oilsheets round their heads and cower down dumbly expectant of death—they are no longer men but driven cattle. Some are shot, some are bayoneted, some dragged out and half-kindly, half-contemptuously sent back to the rear without escort.

All night the attackers had lain miserably in the drizzling rain, heavily shelled, cold and sleepless. Vitality went low. As the barrage opened they moved forward. At once there was a transformation, a glow of feeling as the immensity of page break page break
Lieutenant-Colonel D. B. Blair, D.S.O., M.C.

Lieutenant-Colonel D. B. Blair, D.S.O., M.C.

page 177the whole thing entered into and lifted up a man's whole being. They pass the swamp and the German barrage—with loss. They encounter the first opposition, and see comrades killed and wounded. Rage enters in—a cold, silent, terrible rage. Men stalk on up the torn hillside, conscious of danger, but disdainful of it. They feel their strength is that of ten, and that their advance is inevitable and resistless—and it is so. There is a great exaltation of soul and a wonderful consciousness of power. So Hector must have felt when the Trojans stormed the Grecian Wall and carried fire and storm through the camp and to the ships. In some the elemental blood-lust comes to the surface, and they kill the enemy who bravely resist, they kill the prisoners whose surrender they have accepted, they kill the wounded lying helplessly in the shell-holes. One man boasted after the battle that he had killed no less than twenty of the enemy, most of them wounded and prisoners. Others coldly and terribly do their duty, killing if necessary, but showing mercy if it be possible. Others again fight with cheerful good humour, shooting Huns as if they were taking wickets. Some fight for glory, some that a woman back in New Zealand may perchance feel a thrill of pride for some deed done this day, but most because the task is there and it is their duty to do it. In the hour of advance and victory the spirit of the brave is always the infectious spirit. Cowards and weaklings are swept away by the bravery that is in the very air.

2/Auckland and 2/Wellington went over the crest and advanced to the Blue Line. Calgary Grange, at the foot of the hill, was taken by a Wellington sergeant and an Auckland corporal, who went through the barrage and bombed the pillbox from the rear, taking a machine-gun and a number of prisoners. One of the stiffest fights of the day was that of the 15th Company for a strongly-held trench at the foot of the hill, and right on the Blue Line. They had nearly five hundred yards of shell-hole country to cross under rifle fire. Many men had become scattered in the small combats here and there, and when a hundred yards from the Hun line the page 178attack had to be pushed home there were only some forty still left. The barrage had passed on. They were in the open—the Huns in a good trench. Nevertheless the 15th pressed doggedly on, outnumbered four to one, losing heavily, but still going forward, led by Lieutenant Ellis, Sergeant Balle and Corporals Maynard and Faithful. It was an impossible task, and if the Germans had kept their nerve, every one of the attacking party would have been shot down, and with the bare hillside before them the enemy could have developed a local counter-attack, which might well have crumpled up the New Zealand forward line. As it was their nerve failed at the critical moment, and they surrendered.

Colonel Allen—"Old Steve" nowadays—was not much given to waiting at headquarters for reports to come in. Like a wise commander, he knew perfectly well that nothing can replace personal observation and direction. So with a single runner he went forward to the most advanced part of the line. Here he was blown up by the burst of one of our own shells. "Got him at last, have they?" was the general remark, as his stretcher was carried back. Fortunately for the Battalion, he was not hit until the success of the operation had been assured.

The battle was won. It had been a clean sweeping success, and the enemy were for the time being utterly broken, so much so that if fresh troops had been immediately pushed to the front they would probably have had little difficulty in taking Belle Vue Spur. As it was, consolidation was commenced and the position made secure. The enemy artillery were active, but they were unable to concentrate men for an effective counter-attack. Next day there was more heavy shelling, and the men suffered considerable discomfort in the newly dug and muddy trenches. During the night of the 5/6th the Battalions were relieved and went back, 1/Auckland to Salvation Corner and the 2nd and 3rd Battalions to Goldfish Chateau.

Considering the magnitude of the success, the losses had not been heavy. They were:—

1/Auckland: Killed, 7 officers, 52 O.R.'s; wounded, 4 officers, 185 O.R.'s; missing, 29 O.R.'s. Total, 273.

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2/Auckland: Killed, 2 officers, 39 O.R.'s; wounded. 14 officers, 165 O.R.'s; missing, 40 O.R.'s. Total, 260

3/Auckland: Killed, 4 officers, 33 O.R.'s; wounded, 5 officers, 124 O.R.'s; missing, 6 O.R.'s. Total 178.

Padre Gavin once more earned great praise for his devoted work. The purity and earnestness of this quiet, selfless man had won for him a high place in the hearts of all. He buried the dead, British and German, in the same grave, often dug with his own hands. No matter how heavy the shelling he stood by the graveside with bared head and repeated his service, omitting nothing and hastening nothing, but reciting the words of hope with a reverence and feeling that touched even the roughest men. They stood beside him, their heads also bared, while the shrapnel burst near by and the splinters whizzed through the air. If one asks those men to-day about Padre Gavin they will probably first declare with oaths that they themselves are not religious, but—this with a certain enthusiasm—that religion of the type of the padre's they reverence. The battlefield is a hard, cruel and terrible place, and on it the finest traits of character are often crushed and soiled, but the battlefield, no less than the cloister, has its saints, and the perfect 8owers of faith grow sometimes in their utmost beauty on the fields red with blood.

The next few days passed quietly enough for the 1st and 4th Brigades in the reserve area. The Battalions rested, reorganised, and did a certain amount of work, while the 2nd and 3rd Brigades held the line in readiness for the final assault on Passchendaele. Preparations were hurried on for the attack. The weather broke, rain fell, and in a few hours the battlefield was a morass. It was almost impossible to get guns forward. By almost superhuman effort field pieces were got sufficiently close, but it was out of the question to move forward the heavies. The artillery had not cut the wire and had not smashed the pill-box system of Belle Vue Spur. They could not promise a barrage. Nevertheless, the Higher Command insisted that the attack should go forward on October 12th. It was a pure gamble on whether the Germans would page 180keep their nerve and fight or whether their nerve would break and they would surrender. The Staff had every reason to believe that the enemy were demoralised. It was a problem in psychology.

Once more in the cold dawn the guns opened, but this time the thunder roll was absent. At the first discharge many of them slipped from the small patch of firm ground on which they had been placed and stuck fast in the mud. Few batteries had half their guns working at any one time. Poor as the barrage was the infantry could not keep with it. They had six hundred yards of bog to cross before they reached the slope and their first objective. This bog was a mass of shellholes, with craters six, eight and twelve feet deep. These craters were full of water. The advancing men floundered along the edges knee-deep, sometimes waist-deep, in mud. German machine-gunners, secure in their undamaged works, looked out, and seeing the opportunity, took heart of grace. They swung their guns with terrible effect on to the struggling men in the black slough. Men slipped, fell and were drowned in the brimming craters, dragged down by the weight of their equipment. Machine-gun bullets claimed their victims by scores and hundreds, yet the stubborn battalions pressed on over the swamp until the survivors were held up by the uncut wire. This could not be passed, and all the while the death hail rained upon them from the pill-boxes. With desperate valour men worked forward into the wire, and tried to cut a way through for their comrades. They were shot down. The Huns kept their nerve, and the result was the inevitable massacre. For the first time New Zealand Brigades had completely failed, and their defeat had cost them as tragic a price as the barren victory on the blood-stained slopes of Sari Bair.

As soon as possible the shattered battalions were relieved. On October 16th, 1/Auckland relieved 2/Otago in the support position, and 2/ Auckland moved up in reserve. 3/Auckland had already, on the night of the 14/15th, relieved the two forward battalions of the Rifle Brigade. Three days later the 1/Battalion took over the left sector with Battalion Headquarpage 181ters at Krönprinz Farm, the 2/Battalion came up in support, while the 3/Battalion were relieved and went back to the old British front line, from where, on the 22nd, they entrained. Canadian Divisions were on their way to take over from the Australians and New Zealanders. The relief took place the night of the 23rd-24th, and the Battalions moved back to bivouacs in the St. Jean area, where they were heavily bombed by German aeroplanes. The next day, entraining at Ypres and Dickebusch, they proceeded to Wizernes, and from there to the villages of the Lumbres training area—1/Auckland to Coulomby and 2/Auckland to Senningham. 3/Auckland had already settled down at Alquines.

Training, reorganisation and re-equipping were immediately proceeded with. The weather was damp, drizzling, and not at all pleasant. Winter was definitely setting in, and the season for great battles closed down.