At the beginning of 1918, the war had been fought for nearly three and a half years. By this point, few of the men who had left Australia for Gallipoli in late 1914 were still alive and, if so, were unwounded and sound of mind. The Australian Imperial Force’s introduction to the Western Front was at the butchers’ picnics at Fromelles and Pozières in 1916. Within the first two months on the Western Front, the AIF had seen nearly fifty per cent of its ranks decimated. Then the frightful battles of Bullecourt, Messines and Passchendaele in 1917 had dramatically thinned their ranks even further, leaving the AIF desperately short of men. In 1917 alone, the AIF sustained nearly 77,000 casualties, twice the casualties of the 1916 battles and three times the casualties of the Gallipoli campaign. To compound these losses, recruitment numbers were low in Australia, and two referenda had failed to indicate the public’s support for conscription. Further, unlike their British allies or their German enemy, the men could not return home, see their family and loved ones, or breathe in the gum-scented air or the salty sea breeze. Australia was a distant memory. The Australians were exhausted, and death seemed inevitable.
The new year of 1918 opened with freezing weather. Blizzards raged across northern France, not unlike those of the frightful winter of 1916–17. Even though the Allies had learnt the lessons of hypothermia and trench foot, and the effect these had on the health and morale of men in exposed frontline trenches, men still suffered. But while the fighting slowed, men continued to train, recuperate and reorganise, and the generals and headquarter staff continued to plan and dream.
There was much to think about.
In November 1917, the Bolsheviks had seized power in Russia, and they had signed an armistice with Germany in December, bringing the fighting on the Eastern Front to an end. The Germans could now move a large number of men, guns and the vast accoutrements of war to the Western Front. For the British, this was a massive shift in the strategic balance of power. Faced with not only the loss of the Russian army, who, while ineffective, had tied up a large proportion of German land forces to that point in the war, now, suddenly, over sixty German divisions began moving from the Eastern to the Western Front.
While America’s declaration of war in April 1917 had been welcome, its recent war with Mexico had shown the inadequacies of the US military. There were only 300,000 National Guardsmen, little matériel or war supplies, poor training and organisation, and no supply structure. As a result, initially only a few ill-equipped American troops arrived on the Continent. America’s declaration of war was, in reality, a hollow promise. By June 1917, only 14,000 troops had landed and, by March 1918, only 300,000 men were in France, with few seeing any active service.
One positive result of the Americans’ entry was that supplies from the US now flowed into Britain, which had been blockaded by German submarines since the beginning of the war. It was also becoming apparent, certainly to Germany but also to the Allies, that the chances of Germany now being able to win the war were becoming slimmer. Britain, unlike Germany, was highly geared to continue the war. The Second Industrial Revolution had seen mass production increase, with 200 new factories producing munitions and war matériel. One million women joined the industrial workforce, and thousands of others moved into farming for food production. The British army was the best fed and equipped on the Western Front, and its Dominion forces shared the bounty.
In Australia, the war dominated daily life across the nation, particularly the issue of conscription. The AIF, first raised in 1914, was purely a volunteer army and, initially, recruitment officers were overwhelmed with volunteers. As the war continued, with the volunteers suffering high casualties, the AIF faced a serious shortage of men. After the defeat of the second conscription referendum in December 1917 – the first had taken place in October 1916 – Prime Minister Billy Hughes resigned. However, due to the absence of a suitable alternative candidate, he was immediately sworn in again. Men still enlisted in the army, particularly after the lowering of age and health standards and height restrictions, but recruitment numbers continued to fall. In the country, rural production saw good profits for farmers from wool and wheat, particularly wool, which was requisitioned for the production of uniforms and blankets, reducing the incentive for men from these areas to enlist.
Within the AIF, there was great concern about low enlistments and the difficulty of rebuilding fighting battalions. The only possible replacements for injured men were men from specialist training courses and those on leave, the wounded men from hospitals in Britain and a trickle of new men from training camps on the Salisbury Plain in England. In Australia, by the end of 1917, recruitment was down to just 5000 men a month but 7000 were needed to retain battalion strengths, and even more should the Germans launch further offensives. The coming of winter and possible spikes in sickness rates added to these concerns.
1917 had been difficult for the AIF. Although the Germans had withdrawn to the Hindenburg Line in March, the terrible fighting for the outpost villages north-east of Bapaume and the twin disasters at Bullecourt in April and May had deeply affected the men. Not only had the First Battle of Bullecourt resulted in 3000 casualties in twenty-four hours and the Second Battle a further 7000, but the Australians also by now carried a new, deeper contempt for the British High Command, and most men had little faith in the cumbersome and unreliable tanks they insisted on using. The success of the Battle of Messines in June was tempered by Australian casualties of 6000, and the involvement in the Third Battle of Ypres (more commonly referred to as the Battle of Passchendaele), from the Menin Road through Glencorse Wood, Polygon Wood, Zonnebeke and Broodseinde, had decimated the AIF’s five divisions. Just like 1916, for the men of the AIF 1917 had been a year of suffering – from the Germans, the weather and the conditions, and the demands of the British High Command.
On 1 November 1917, the AIF serving on the Western Front in France and Belgium became a new entity with the forming of the Australian Corps. Billy Hughes had made representation to London ‘that it was the wish of the Australian government that the Anzac troops “should be regarded as an army and that General Birdwood should command it” … strong feeling exists in Australia that Australian units should be self-contained. Conditions of service and personal character of Australian troops different from British troops.’1 This push for an Australian army was taken up by prominent Australian journalist Keith Murdoch and a group of influential Australians in London. Murdoch had the ear of the British Prime Minister David Lloyd George and acted as an intermediary between him and Billy Hughes, particularly during Australia’s two conscription debates. These took place at a time when Lloyd George and Field Marshal Douglas Haig, Commander of the British Army, had seriously different attitudes about the conduct of the war. Haig’s response to the Australian request was that the timing was unsuitable and would hamper the overall campaign: ‘It would affect the general conduct of operations so adversely that I regard it as both unwise and impracticable.’2
Haig’s attitude was not good enough for Billy Hughes, given he had sent nearly 300,000 Australian troops to Britain and had 110,000 in the line. Another stern and direct telegram was sent to London reaffirming Australia’s wish to have its own corps. This time the Army Council responded by directing Haig to begin the process of forming the Australian Corps under British General William Birdwood. The AIF had been under Birdwood’s command since May 1915, from its very infancy, and Birdwood had seen it through Gallipoli, had defended it and supported it before the British High Command, and appreciated the distinct nature and fighting ability of the Australians.
With battalion numbers low, Birdwood suggested disbanding the 4th Division and creating a ‘depot’ division based in Boulogne, from which men could be reallocated to other AIF divisions. Under this plan, the 1st, 2nd, 3rd and 5th Divisions and their associated support groups, like artillery, medical, siege batteries, and the No. 3 Squadron of the Australian Flying Corps, were to comprise the new Australian Corps. While some divisions were delighted with the proposed change, others, particularly the 4th Division which would be relegated to the rear and facing disintegration, were not happy. The Australians, proud of their new formation and in a spirit of esprit de corps, clipped up the brims of their felt hats to clearly distinguish themselves from other Allied units. The level of resistance to Birdwood’s plan meant that the 4th Division was never broken up, and instead men were brought in from a fledgling 6th Division to reinforce the other divisions.
While the Australian Corps remained under the overall command of Birdwood, there was a new emphasis on replacing senior English staff with Australians, particularly at a brigade and battalion level. Some of the British officers, however, had served in pre-war militia units in Australia, had joined the AIF in 1914, had been to Gallipoli and then to the Western Front, and had a close association with their units. As Australia’s official war historian Charles Bean notes, ‘they were also highly regarded by the diggers when, after their initial disregard, they accepted the colonials not on their behaviour and parade ground conduct, but on their fighting abilities and resilience.’3 The contribution of these British officers over this time had been significant and, for many, it was a pity and a loss for the AIF to see them go.
By December 1917, the fighting on the Western Front had slowed and the men were looking to rest and survive the cold as well as the Germans. The British Expeditionary Force (BEF) occupied the line from the Passchendaele ridge south to the Somme. In places their front line was thinly manned – the French army was slowly being revived after their widespread mutinies – and their defences were poorly constructed. The lessons of the winter of 1916–17 had ensured better accommodation, particularly after the building of massive camps of the newly introduced Nissen huts close behind the line. These huts were invented by a major in the Royal Engineers, Peter Nissen, and went into production in August 1916. They came in three sizes, were cheap to produce and could be erected very fast. Apart from troop accommodation, they provided orderly rooms, mess halls, classrooms and hospitals and, by the end of the war, over 100,000 of them had been constructed.
In November 1917, most of the Australian troops had been in Belgium in the area south of Ypres, particularly around Messines, Wytschaete and Ploegsteert. They were central to the recent fighting at Passchendaele, which had seen the Allies take the village and the area around Ypres, but at huge cost. The AIF had as a result become virtually unoperational and needed to be rebuilt and rested. As the Australians took over a large section of the Messines front, they found much work to do, particularly the completion of strongpoints along the main line of resistance. The defensive front line needed strengthening by moving forward posts closer to support, extending barbed wire and improving the accommodation of men in the line.
While major attacks were not carried out, active patrolling of no-man’s-land and artillery duels with the Germans kept the men active. On 2 December, the 8th Brigade line came under artillery fire from the direction of Comines, with a number of direct hits on the cookhouse pillbox where a number of men were sheltering. The following day, a German corporal wandered into the 32nd Battalion lines and was captured, an event not uncommon given the maze of trenches and the low mist in the shallow valleys to the south-east of Messines.
A major focus for the AIF at this time was training, particularly in the rear areas and villages near Boulogne where Australian units were rotated for rest. Here they enjoyed hot baths and those with skin infections, particularly scabies, were treated with sulphur ointments. By December, the weather was closing in with snow and sleet, roads were icy and dangerous, and conditions were unfavourable for outdoor training. Also, few training facilities, materials and suitable fields were available. Heavy snow on the night of 22 December ended training until later in the month.
Christmas, even given the weather and the nearby Germans, was celebrated and enjoyed. No working parties were sent out; instead, Christmas carols were sung and men attended voluntary church services. The 11th Brigade diary notes, ‘Snow falling – enemy heard last night singing and “cooeeing” and generally making noise in Christmas celebration’,4 it perhaps being a surprise that the enemy too celebrated this Christian occasion. Every effort was made by the senior commanders to celebrate Christmas as best they could, providing, along with a hot meal, wine, beer and other beverages for the men’s pleasure. Christmas billies were also provided containing soap, tobacco, writing paper and various small luxuries for the men. Some senior officers, including divisional commanders, visited the men during their Christmas dinner, taking the opportunity to thank them for their fine efforts and sacrifice. All remembered the terrible winter on the Somme the previous year, and were grateful for the milder conditions and the thawing snow.
As the new year dawned, the AIF remained on the salient in the familiar areas south of Ypres. Apart from their active patrolling in no-man’s-land and strengthening of the defences, life was relatively quiet, alternating between long periods in camps and frontline duties.
For the men of the 14th Brigade the entire month saw them training around the French village of Frencq, just north of Étaples and south of Boulogne. Throughout winter the weather remained mild, which was fortunate as the ‘billeting was decidedly poor, but the distance from the forward positions of the Army area, the freshness of the country, the spells of fine weather, the opportunities for sport and competition, all combined to make a holiday of what might have been a very cold and muddy spell of training drudgery’.5 When the men of the 14th returned to the line in the last days of January, they were fit, keen and in high spirits.
All five AIF divisions remained in Flanders, with two divisions holding a front of seven miles (twelve kilometres), a third in the support line, a fourth in reserve and one training on the French coast. Good work continued to strengthen the defences and salvage material.
Each night, patrols went out to capture prisoners for identification. One report stated, ‘captured one Hun. Patrols met in no-mans-land. Shots were exchanged, but no casualties. German stated his unit – seemed intelligent and fairly willing to talk.’6
Despite the Australians’ successes, and their bravery and sacrifice on the battlefield, their discipline was a continuing problem, as were the increasing rates of desertion. While the British had 677 cases of desertion across sixty-two divisions, the AIF had 171 across just five divisions, which had prompted Haig in mid-1916 to appeal to the Australian Government for the introduction of the death penalty. Haig’s concern was that the lack of discipline within the AIF would lead to increased discipline problems across the entire army. Unless the Australians could be put under the Army Act, which had been enacted in the late nineteenth century to modernise military codes, the ‘fighting efficiency would deteriorate “to an extent which may gravely affect the success of our arms”.’7 If the Australian Government agreed with the death penalty, argued Haig, it would be ‘very sparingly’ imposed. Even the New Zealand Government accepted the death penalty and, during the course of the war, five New Zealanders were shot, though at least one of them was actually an Australian.
Aside from desertion, a list circulated in March 1918 showed that nearly nine Australians per 1000 men were in field punishment, compared to one per 1000 for the British and less than two in other Empire forces.8 Field punishment could be administered quickly, without the requirement that a convicted soldier be sent to prison. There were two types of punishment at the time: strapping or chaining a man to a gun wheel, fence or post for two hours a day for up to twenty-one days; and shackling a man for that period without him being fixed to anything.
Underlying these serious disciplinary problems was the Australians’ rather loose approach to respect and discipline itself, which had long been an issue for the British High Command. This apparent lack of respect manifested itself in the men’s attitude to saluting, showing respect to officers, obeying orders or accepting requirements placed upon them. Many Australian leaders argued that the issue of discipline in the AIF needed to be seen in a different way to that of the British army, as many of the men genuinely respected an officer for their leadership, bravery or concern for their soldiers. Many officers had risen through the ranks due to their service and leadership and were good mates with their men, which affected how the men behaved towards them. Also, from the time they enlisted, many of the Australians regarded themselves as part-time soldiers and, if asked, would probably have said they were a railway porter or a drover rather than a soldier. While home, and their previous callings, were a long way away and often years in the past, men remembered who they were. Peter Stanley makes this point with a cartoon by Cecil Hart in which a toffy English officer, backed up by a frowning, dismissive woman, states:
Officer: ‘Don’t you know what to do when you pass an officer? – You’re a soldier aren’t you?’
‘No,’ replies Private Anzac, ‘I’m a farmer.’9
In another cartoon, where an officer confronts a young digger leaning, legs crossed, against a post, the conversation goes:
Officer: ‘Why do you not salute?’
Anzac: ‘Well, to tell you the truth, digger, We’ve cut it right out.’10
While discipline remained an ongoing issue for the Australians, the main focus for the Allies at the beginning of 1918 was an anticipated German offensive. As the diggers shivered in trench lines around Ploegsteert, Warneton and Messines, consolidating their line and bringing up supplies, or as they trained in the hutted camps in back areas, they knew the offensive was simply a matter of time – most likely when the spring thaw came.