In the Footsteps of Private Lynch Read online

  In the week before the attack, which was to take place on 7 June, the 45th Battalion was concentrated near Neuve-Église, in Belgium, about 5 kilometres from the German line. Here the men prepared for the coming attack, the officers and NCOs reconnoitred the approaches to the frontline and the whole battalion had the battle plans explained to them with the aid of a large relief model specially built for the purpose. The map was marked out on the ground and raised platforms were constructed so the men could look down on it, understand the terrain and have the battle plan outlined for them. Unlike other armies, the AIF made every effort to explain to soldiers of all ranks the details of an attack and the objectives to be taken, so that individual initiative could contribute to the outcome of the battle. At Messines, this was going to prove necessary.

  The map was set up near a farm called Petit Pont, to the southwest of Messines and on the other side of Ploegsteert Wood. The farm is still there today, but the exact site of the map is something of a mystery. I studied a photograph taken the day before the attack, of men standing on the platforms surveying the map; on the right of the photograph a straight road can be seen. When I was in Belgium I tried to locate this road at Petit Pont, but to no avail.

  In command of the battle was Field Marshal Sir Herbert Plumer, a favourite of the men. He had started planning the assault on the Messines–Wytschaete ridge two years before and was very thorough in his preparations. The British had built 23 deep mine shafts stretching 21 kilometres under the German frontlines along the ridge, having started construction in August 1915. These shafts were dug to a depth of 30 metres and opened out into galleries extending 1.6 kilometres directly under the German frontline. Before the attack, these galleries would be packed with 400 tons of the explosive ammonal, ready for detonation. Twelve mines were concentrated at the apex of the salient near Messines village.

  The Germans knew shafts had been dug along the Messines–Wytschaete ridge and had even blown some camouflets – that is, they had detonated explosive charges in an effort to undermine shafts and cause them to collapse. As a result, one of the galleries was cut off for three months and only re-opened four days before the Messines offensive. This type of success led them to believe the shafts had been abandoned by the Allies, and that the British offensive on the Messines Ridge was unlikely or perhaps even impossible. They did know the British were still actively digging at Hill 60, but a German officer stated that his men 'had them beaten',1 according to Bean. But the Germans had conducted counter-mining operations only near the surface, and as Bean dryly concludes, 'The capacity of the British miners was disastrously underrated,'2 and along the whole front the Germans were cleverly deceived and totally ignorant of the British mining.

  At 3.10 a.m. on 7 June 1917, 19 mines were fired (four were not detonated), creating a phenomenal series of massive explosions. Lynch perhaps observed this just as his character Nulla does, walking to a nearby hill especially to watch it happen, like a spectator. First the Allies' big guns fire on the German line and 'like the slamming of the door of Doom, a terrific roar goes up'. Moments later, there is an 'appalling roar, drowning even our guns' firing, as the sound of nineteen great mines going up bursts upon our ears. The ground rumbles, shivers and vibrates under us.' [p. 139]

  Immediately, nearly 2,300 guns fired on the enemy's frontline and their artillery in the rear. The attacking battalions moved forward into the thick dust thrown up by the mines and the artillery. Massive numbers of Germans were killed by the explosions – an estimated 10,000 men – and the Allies easily dealt with the rest, who were so badly shaken that they surrendered in droves. Bean explained:

  Elsewhere, after firing a few scattered shots, the Germans surrendered as the troops approached. Men went along the trenches bombing the shelters, whose occupants then came out, some of them cringing like beaten animals. They 'made many fruitless attempts to embrace us' reported Lieutenant Garrard of the 40th. 'I have never seen men so demoralised.'3

  The night before the 45th went into the attack at Messines, the battalion was quartered in Kortypyp Camp near Neuve-Église. In Somme Mud, Nulla tells us that the camp was shelled with shrapnel, which ripped through the roof and walls of their huts. This area had previously been heavily shelled with gas, which lay in trenches and hollows in the forested area, protected from the winds that would otherwise have dispersed it. It is here that Nulla and his mates are fed a breakfast of stew tainted with gas, which leaves them heaving and vomiting. This gas, he explains, 'has been drawn up out of the grass by the morning mist that rose with the sun' [p. 140].

  We are also told by Nulla that on that morning, he and Snow 'tramp off a good mile and climb a big hill where we settle down to watch [the mines being detonated]' [p. 138], but this is doubtful. They would have needed to be back very early to be ready for breakfast and it is unlikely they would have seen the explosion as clearly as they describe at three in the morning. Besides, Kortypyp Camp was behind Hill 63 and about 6 kilometres from Messines.

  Early on the morning of 7 June, the battalion left Kortypyp Camp and marched to Stinking Farm, west of Messines. On their way, they are horrified by the sight of three green, bloated corpses, gunners killed by gas. This would have been a common scene in the area. Today, you can still follow the track that Lynch would have taken to the front, and that he describes Nulla taking. The farms where the men sheltered are still there, probably still in the same families who owned them then. The countryside is rolling and green, heavy with crops, and the roads, once deep in mud and lined with smashed wagons and horses, are today sealed and easily accessible. Stinking Farm is still where it was at the time, rebuilt with large barns and machinery sheds and an attractive farmhouse, all enclosed by corn planted right up to the sides of the buildings. Across the crops, the high ground that is the Messines ridge can be clearly seen, dominated from this angle by the stark white New Zealand Memorial and the Irish Peace Tower.

  The 45th Battalion moved forward from Stinking Farm to what had been no-man's-land before the series of explosions. They were told that in the previous seven hours, all major objectives had been taken with minimal casualties, the Allied line had advanced to their objectives and the Germans had suffered massive casualties. Ahead of the 45th, the New Zealand Division had attacked up this same hill and through the village of Messines, establishing a new line on the other side of the crest of the ridge. To the north, the British had advanced their line through the village of Wytschaete and as far as St Eloi.

  As the men of the 45th began their ascent of the Messines Ridge, the bodies of New Zealanders would have lain strewn where they'd fallen. Today on this slope is the white New Zealand Memorial and, just beneath it, the remains of two German blockhouses that would have impeded the New Zealanders' advance up the hillside. These would have lain shattered, the bodies of their dead German defenders nearby or still inside. Unlike today, the slope would have been bare of trees or grass, instead cratered and desolate from the severe Allied shelling prior to the attack.

  The 45th came under enemy shelling as they made their way to the crest of the ridge, and in Somme Mud this is when another of Nulla's mates is wounded – Snow, who must be left behind for the stretcher-bearers. They make their way through the 'crumbled rubble heap of Messines' on past the first line of New Zealand outposts and hurry towards the tape that has been laid to show where they are to jump off for the attack, along with the 47th, 49th and 52nd battalions. Lynch describes a surreal moment of beauty captured amidst the dust and smoke of artillery fire: 'We've topped the Ridge and see below a sweep of beautiful country stretching for miles away into the distance' [p. 142]. This brings him within sight not only of the German line nears Huns' Walk and the defensive Oosttaverne Line, but also the German artillery far off to the north and east near Warneton.

  Now the 45th Battalion came under German artillery and enfilading fire and casualties rose sharply. They reached their start line in plenty of time to carry out the attack at 1.10 p.m., only to be told it had been post
poned for two hours – two hours in which they had no choice but to 'lie out in the open in full view of Fritz', in Nulla's words. 'Criminal mismanagement somewhere, but what can we do?' he asks. General Plumer had ordered the postponement to allow other British units involved in the attack to catch up and in order to synchronise with an Allied attack to their north. Due to communication problems, the men found themselves under fire from the Australian and British artillery as well, and suffered heavy casualties. Finally, the battalion moved off to their first objective, Oxygen Trench.

  The battalion history states that the two-hour delay:

  Made all the difference between an easy victory and a hard fought success, as it gave the enemy time to recover from his demoralised condition to meet the attack of the 4th Division, and to bring up fresh troops for his strong counter-attacks.4

  Nevertheless the 45th, with the aid of their mates from the 47th Battalion and a tank, succeeded in taking Oxygen Trench. The next objective was Owl Trench. On the way to their goal, the Australians came under heavy machine-gun fire from German concrete blockhouses that afforded the enemy protection from all but the heaviest of shelling. It was the first time the Australians had faced this new German tactic – well-sited blockhouses, protecting each other by inter-locking fire – which was to become characteristic of all the battles in Flanders.

  Two companies, A and B, of the 45th captured Oxygen and Owl Trench and with it 120 prisoners and two machine-guns, but Edward Lynch's D Company, along with C Company, suffered severe casualties and were forced to retire to their jumping-off line. Meanwhile, A and B companies were subjected to savage German counter-attacks and then mistakenly shelled by Australian artillery. Being attacked from the front and the flanks and shelled from the rear, they too withdrew to their start line of six hours before. For all their effort and through no fault of their own, they were back where they had started.

  During the night, the decimated 45th Battalion was reorganised by senior officers and reinforced with two companies of the 48th Battalion. In Somme Mud, we see evidence of this in Nulla and his mate Longun being sent to find German bombs, as the battalion is running short on grenades.

  At 8.30 the following morning, exhausted and hungry, the 45th again attacked and this time captured both Owl Trench and Owl Support. As expected, the Germans counter-attacked but the Allies drove them off. Yet their casualties mounted as they came under enemy shelling.

  Several more days and nights of fighting ensued as the men of the 45th fought their way into parts of the trench still held by the Germans and came under sustained enemy fire, which continued to thin out the battalion. In Somme Mud, this fighting takes Nulla's last mate, Longun, who has 'a horrible gash up his face' [p. 159] and is sent to a rear dressing station for treatment.

  The war has finally got to Nulla. When asked if he heard the dying screams of one of his fellows, Nulla observes, 'No, I didn't hear him scream. We don't any longer notice screams. We're used to them.' He is so numb and resigned that he does not even feel relief when he hears the 45th is soon to be replaced in the frontline. So many men must have experienced something akin to this feeling, which has shades of guilt at being a survivor.

  The news of relief awakes no enthusiasm and very little hope. We're past caring and almost past hope. So many of our mates have gone west and we find it hard to realise that we are somehow to be saved where so many have fallen. [p. 160]

  The men of the 45th Battalion were now totally exhausted. Some actually fell asleep while they dug their trench and had to be shaken awake. At night, fighting patrols moved eastward, attacking towards Gapaard, where they encountered more German concrete blockhouses. These strongpoints had withstood the Allies' shelling and so the attacking platoons immediately began taking casualties from enemy machine-gun fire. Two German blockhouses remained holding up the 45th's advance down the trench and able to enfilade them.

  On the afternoon of 10 June, the CO of the 45th Battalion, Colonel Herring, telephoned Lieutenant Thomas McIntyre and told him that the two blockhouses holding up the advance must be taken. McIntyre had already led three attacks on the strongpoints and knew Herring's order was his death warrant, but he responded with, 'All right, sir; if it is to be taken, it will be taken' and so at 10 p.m., he led his men into the fateful attack.5

  Lieutenant McIntyre is without doubt the officer Lynch refers to in Somme Mud who leads his few remaining men on this futile attack, only hours before they were to be relieved and sent back from the frontline. Nulla doesn't hold it against the lieutenant, who with a 'break in the voice ... told us of the attack. It's not his doing. Already he has led three separate bombing attacks ... His responsibility has been heavy.' He continues, 'We know how he regrets the order that must send many of the few survivors to their deaths, but he is powerless to do other than lead us to the slaughter.' [p. 161]

  Lieutenant Thomas Alexandria McIntyre (not 'Alexander' as the Battalion records suggest) was from the New South Wales south coast town of Berry, where he worked before the war as a carpenter. He enlisted on 21 September 1914 and went to Gallipoli with the 13th Battalion, returning to Egypt after the December evacuation. There he became part of the new 45th Battalion and sailed with his mates for Marseilles on the Kinfauns Castle, arriving in early June 1916. He was then a sergeant, but was promoted to second lieutenant in July 1916 and to lieutenant in February 1917. The battalion history applauds his 'splendid' work during the fighting at Owl Trench. Sadly, as Nulla recounts, McIntyre was killed during the attack on 10 June, when he fell along with a sergeant only 5 metres from the German blockhouse. The attack was a failure.

  After the action at Owl Support, Lieutenant McIntyre was reported 'missing believed wounded', but four days later he was confirmed killed in action, at the age of 30. There is a reference to his death in the Red Cross Society Wounded and Missing Enquiry Bureau Records, by Private Matthew Gilmore, who was in 13 Platoon (Lynch was in 14 Platoon).

  I was informed that Lieut. McIntyre was killed. He was in charge of a party who went out at night to storm and bomb a German strongpoint. I was wounded and upon making enquiries was informed that Lieut. McIntyre did not return with the party but those who did appeared to have no doubt as to what had happened to him.6

  Private Leslie Dollisson provided the Red Cross with another eyewitness report:

  I was with Lieut. McIntyre on June 10th at Messines. We were on a bombing party and the Lieut. was in charge. It was about 11 o'clock at night. I was in one shell hole and the Lieut. with Sgt. Lamborne was in another about 20 yards away. A shell or bomb exploded nearer to the Lieut. and the Sgt. than to us. Sgt. Lamborne sang out that he was wounded and I went and helped him back to the trench. He said the shell or bomb exploded within five yards of the Lieut. and killed him instantly. Sgt. Lamborne seemed pretty badly wounded. I left him with the stretcher bearers in the trench and heard afterwards that he did not get to the dressing station.7

  In 'Mixing it at Messines', Nulla is badly wounded in the back while advancing and spends a terrifying night in a shell-hole in no-man's-land near the German blockhouse. A photograph of one of the two smashed blockhouses is in the Australian War Memorial's photograph collection and, surprisingly, one of these blockhouses still exists today near Messines on the line of the old Owl Support trench.

  Private Lynch did receive an injury like Nulla's. According to his personal medical record dated 30 June 1917 he had a 'bullet wound – back' along with 'bomb fragments', which put him in hospital for some time. However, Lynch gives Nulla this injury on the night of the attack on the blockhouse, though he received his own back injury on 30 June, 20 days later.

  In many ways there could be no more fitting conclusion to a chapter of unremitting threat and violence than Nulla, the last of his mates still standing, finally succumbing to a wound and being taken from the field of battle.

  Indeed, Lynch was very lucky not to have been wounded at Messines. Four days after entering the line, the few remaining soldiers of the 45th Battalion
were relieved and sent back to La Plus Douve Farm, about 3 kilometres behind the line, and from there were marched to the rear, to La Crèche. In those four days, of all the 20 battalions plus machine-gun and light mortar units who took part in the battle of Messines, the 45th took the most casualties: 16 officers and 552 other ranks. It was a shattered force that marched back to La Crèche and on to Morbecque, where it met up with the 'nucleus' that had been left behind for such an eventuality. What a sad and shocking sight they must have been, those few men who returned that day.

  For the British, the attack on the Messines–Wytschaete salient was very welcome news and a brilliant success, the best operation up to that point in the war. Though the attack had not taken the German guns, the success of the mining operation, the counter-battery fire, the resupply to the front and the work of the flying corps had all added to an impressive British victory. For the first time, the Australian troops had faith in the British High Command, although they had taken half of the estimated 26,000 casualties of the battle. For the Germans, it had been costly in men and territory and as General von Kuhl later said, 'One of the worst tragedies in the world war'.8

  ELEVEN

  A Quiet

  Innings

  In June and July 1917, a series of German air raids on London brought the war closer to the British public and provoked a new wave of anti-German feeling. The British royal family, so closely related to the German royal family, changed their name from Saxe-Coburg-Gotha to Windsor, while the Battenbergs changed their name to Mountbatten.

  Shipping losses in the Atlantic also increased with over 100 ships sunk in May 1917 alone, following the German declaration of an unrestricted U-boat offensive against neutral merchant shipping. Though this was seen by Germany as initially successful, it could neither be sustained nor reach the levels required to strangle Britain's war effort. In response, the Royal Navy introduced a system of convoys, with slow freighters and transports sailing in groups, protected by warships. Losses soon decreased.