As they made the best of life in their makeshift camp, the tank crews were still mystified as to how the Germans had discovered their hiding-place in Oosthoek Wood with such apparent ease. Then, a week after the start of the British offensive, the bombshell dropped: they had been deliberately betrayed.
The first mention of this came in an intelligence summary from Tank Corps headquarters on 5 August 1917. This stated that during the British advance, an enemy report had been captured which showed there had been a disastrous breach of security about the tanks and their preparations for the attack. The British intelligence summary contained a lengthy translation from the captured German report:
According to the statement of two prisoners … a large number of tanks are packed in the wood south of Oosthoek … Presumably the newly laid out roads already noticed on aeroplane photographs through this wood to Vlamertinghe and from there to the Canal are to serve as approach roads for these tanks … A tracing showing the assembly place and roads of approach is handed to divisions. Prisoners also state that fascines and bridge building material have been prepared for crossing the Canal by tanks.1
The German report revealed that the prisoners had given away more than just the location of the tanks, and the corridors of La Lovie Château were soon in turmoil. On 8 August, the intelligence officer of Fifth Army reported: ‘A captured document shows that the enemy was able to establish our order of battle and became acquainted with several salient features of our attack on July 31st by the statements of two of our men who were captured in a raid about 28th July.’2
As inquiries continued, the authorities were able to narrow down the source of the leak and soon came up with a name for the informant. This was revealed at an infantry brigade conference on 10 August, when commanders ‘were asked to enquire as to whether any N.C.O., who might turn out to be Sergeant Phillips, was made a prisoner before “Z” Day [i.e. 31 July].’3 The question must have come as a blow to Major Wynn Powell Wheldon, who had just taken over as commander of 14th (Service) Battalion Royal Welsh Fusiliers, for one of his first duties had been to investigate a failed raid on the German lines that resulted in the capture of several men – including Sergeant Phillips.
* * *
The raid on the night of 26/27 July was one of a series carried out ahead of the coming offensive to determine the strength of German positions and the effect of the British bombardment. The officer selected to lead the raid, Second Lieutenant Joseph Brommage, was typical of the ‘temporary gentlemen’ who were being commissioned into the new battalions of Kitchener’s army. Just twenty years old and the Catholic son of a brewery director, he had been brought up in Mid-Glamorgan where he attended the local grammar school before training as a schoolmaster. His teaching career was cut short by the war, and he enlisted in an officers’ training corps before joining the newly-formed 14th Battalion of the Royal Welsh Fusiliers in January 1917, shortly after they arrived on the Western Front.4
He told a subsequent court of enquiry into the raid how he had led his party of twenty-four men, with two Lewis light machine guns to provide covering fire, into No Man’s Land just before midnight while a preparatory barrage pounded the German positions. ‘I went forward with the party up to the German parapet and I then dropped back pursuant to my orders to my Lewis Guns in support about 12 yards back. Sergeant Phillips was in charge of the forward raiding party.’ The raiders would be given nine minutes to search the German trenches, and Second Lieutenant Brommage would then fire two Very lights (or flares) as the signal to retire.5
Corporal Frank Philpotts, the leader of one of the parties of bombers who were sent forward, described how they entered the German front line as soon as the barrage lifted. ‘It was difficult to find, it was so broken up. I could only find a thin scoop between shell holes. I found a dugout but it was knocked in and the entrance filled with earth. I could not get in or hear anything, but I fired into it on chance.’ One of his men, Private William Sandiford, added: ‘It was like a ploughed field and I could not recognise it as a trench except for the broken timber lying about. I saw no Germans.’ He glimpsed two of their party dropping into a trench away to the left, before the signal to retire lit up the sky and Corporal Philpotts told him: ‘Look slippy and get back.’6
Private Sandiford located a tape that had been laid to guide them back across No Man’s Land, but lost both the tape and his sense of direction after falling into a shell-hole. ‘I wandered back to the German trench and was for a time lost but a good flare showed me the Canal Bank trees and I made for those and got in about post 45.’ On his way back to the British lines bordering the Yser Canal, he heard grenade explosions and machine-gun fire. Meanwhile Second Lieutenant Brommage saw about nine of his men returning in the darkness, before he also made his way back to the British lines. But on returning to headquarters there was a sickening discovery: ‘I could not find that Sergeant Phillips, Corporal John and 8 other men had returned to our trench … I then returned to the front lines with Corporal Philpot [sic] and I went out at 4 a.m. as far as the German wire to search for the missing men but could not see them.’ The tapes were still in place and he added: ‘I do not understand how this party lost direction.’7
At the end of the inquiry, Lieutenant-Colonel Evelyn Uniacke, who was about to hand over command of the battalion, issued his verdict: ‘I am of opinion that these men missed the tape line on retiring & making too much north, struck the enemy lines & were probably made prisoner. I do not attach blame to either of the officers present. 2/Lieut Brommage appears to have done all that was possible after discovering the loss.’8
Two of the missing men were later found wounded in No Man’s Land,9 but of the others there was no trace. They had indeed been captured by the Germans, and the original interrogation report on the two captured NCOs has recently been discovered in a German military archive. This contains the men’s account of their capture, as recorded by the Germans:
The patrol consisted of 22 men and one officer. The officer did not leave the trench, so the sergeant who was captured had to lead the raid. The objective of the raid was to penetrate the German second line to establish whether our first and second trenches were occupied, to take prisoners, and to investigate our system of light signals, if possible by capturing flares and documents. The operation failed because the period of four minutes allowed to cross the area between the positions turned out to be too short, the ground being more badly churned up than expected. The patrol came under its own fire, became disorientated, and some men ran into the German trenches.10
The German report, prepared on 29 July, does not name the informants, but gives some background about them. ‘One of the prisoners is a farm-worker by occupation, but was a serving soldier for seven years, then a farm-worker for four years until joining the army in September 1915. The other prisoner has had numerous jobs. At the beginning of the war he travelled between England and France as a stoker on a troopship-steamer, likewise joining up as a Kitchener man in September 1915 when the battalion was raised. Both are 32-33 years old and sturdy fellows. They describe the reinforcements arriving now as very inferior, both physically and mentally.’11
As well as information about the tanks, the report shows the men divulged a largely accurate summary of plans for the British attack, including the sectors held by different units, details of the artillery barrage, and what they knew of times, dates and code-words. In some cases the prisoners passed on rumours or embroidered the facts, perhaps to curry favour or impress their captors. For example, they claimed the attack would begin with the detonation of two mines, and gave details of their location. This was an obvious concern for the Germans, who had been blasted off Messines ridge a few weeks before by nineteen mines buried under their trenches, though in this case the story was untrue.
The prisoners also claimed a French attack would follow the British one, and would be reinforced by around 6,000 American troops. This must have come as a shock to the Germans, since America had declared war in April 1917 but had not so far joined in the fighting. Recognizing its significance, the German intelligence officer added: ‘The prisoner who made this statement is a sergeant, was a serving soldier for seven years, and gave the impression of being completely credible.’ Nevertheless, whoever reviewed the report now in the German archives added a large question-mark in the margin.12 His scepticism was well-founded: although American ‘doughboys’ had begun landing in France, they would not participate in the fighting until later in the year.
The prisoners also exaggerated the effects of a German poison gas bombardment on the night of 23/24 July, which they said had caused twenty-six deaths in their company alone, and 400–500 casualties in the battalion as a whole. British records confirm the shelling caused ‘a large number of casualties’13 but only a small number were fatal, and records show that fewer than ten men from 14th Bn Royal Welsh Fusiliers died on those dates.14
* * *
With exemplary thoroughness, the prisoners’ information was communicated to German front-line units, with the result that a copy of the report soon fell into the hands of the advancing British. By then it was too late to do more than issue a warning, which was done by the commander of Fifth Army, Sir Hubert Gough. His routine orders on 16 August contained one item which made a lasting impression on its audience:
The summary of the examination of Sergt. Phillips, Royal Welsh Fusiliers, extracted from a German Intelligence Summary, and attached, shows that the N.C.O. in question imparted information of considerable value to the enemy. The Army Commander desires to bring this case to the notice of all ranks, and to point out that the statements made by Sergt. Phillips undoubtedly assisted the enemy in preparing to meet our attack, and were consequently largely responsible for the casualties inflicted on his comrades. All men who are unfortunate enough to be taken prisoner by the enemy must realize that they are in honour bound not to furnish information which can only result in endangering both the lives of their own comrades and the success of the British arms.15
To drive the point home, the routine orders included a page summarizing the information disclosed by Sergeant Phillips, including some relating to the Tank Corps: ‘The attacks will probably begin in the early morning hours and will be opened by a frontal attack of the tanks. For the crossing of the canal by the tanks and the troops, fascines and bridging material are held in readiness … The number of tanks available is estimated to be 200. The prisoner himself saw a large number of these on July 24th, in the small wood South of Oosthoek, i.e., in the South-West corner of the rectangular cleared area inside this wood. The crews were billeted in a camp to the North of it.’16 For some reason the Fifth Army communiqué made no mention of Corporal John, who had been captured at the same time as Sergeant Phillips and was presumably the other NCO referred to in the German interrogation report. It also omitted the claim that American troops would take part in the attack.
When news of this betrayal reached the tank crews they reacted with anger and consternation, coupled with some relief that at last they could explain the German shelling that had harassed them since their arrival in Oosthoek Wood. In his official history of the Tank Corps, Major Clough Williams-Ellis summarized their feelings:
The enemy had obtained information of our tankodrome in Oosthoek Wood from a British prisoner, who was either a garrulous fool or a very treacherous knave. A soldier … had betrayed every detail of the whereabouts of the tanks of the 1st Brigade, and of the programme of their movements. A German document was captured setting forth the whole of this creature’s evidence and explaining its value and significance. The official account of this murderous piece of treachery was periodically read out on parade to all tank units, and formed the text of many discourses on the vital importance of strict secrecy and high moral [sic]. The name of this man will for ever have a sinister sound for all who served in the Tank Corps.’17
Later Second Lieutenant Douglas Browne of G Battalion, who had been on the receiving end of the shelling in Oosthoek Wood, recalled:
We used to debit this unpleasantness to the growing account of Sergeant Phillips. This gentleman, having been captured in a raid, proceeded to give to the enemy every atom of information in his possession. Most of it was fairly accurate … This piece of treachery having come to the knowledge of our Intelligence Corps, a summary of the disclosures, together with a prophecy as to the offender’s probable destiny if ever he returned to England, was ordered to be read out every week on parade throughout the Army. Now that the war is over, and the prisoners are returned, I have often wondered what really has happened to Sergeant Phillips. As he appeared to be a man of some intelligence, he probably has remained in Germany.18
The commander of 1st Tank Brigade, Colonel Baker-Carr, went even further in threatening revenge: ‘The name of the betrayer and his regiment became a byword in the First Brigade, and a large number of men proposed to call on him after the War was over and explain to him, with vigorous action, exactly what they thought of him.’19 Second Lieutenant Frank Mitchell of A Battalion even heard a suggestion that ‘when Sergeant Phillips returned to England after the war he would be tried and punished in the only way suitable for traitors’.20
Meanwhile, the report of the court of enquiry into the raid made its slow progress up the chain of command. From 14th Bn Royal Welsh Fusiliers it was passed up to 113th Infantry Brigade, who passed it up to 38th (Welsh) Division, who passed it up to Fifth Army, and by September it had reached the Adjutant and Quartermaster General at GHQ, after which it seems to have disappeared into a filing cabinet. Along the way a question was asked about why the men’s absence had not been reported earlier, but Second Lieutenant Brommage, who led the raid, was in no position to answer. On 1 August he had been shot through the thigh and was now in hospital in England. While there he applied for a transfer to the Indian Army, and never returned to the Royal Welsh Fusiliers or to the Western Front.21
As the battle wore on, the story of Sergeant Phillips acquired the status of myth as it spread far and wide. For Lieutenant George Mackenzie of the Royal Artillery, it explained the ‘unparalleled readiness’ of the enemy gunners to respond to an attack on 16 August. He learned that ‘a sergeant of the Welsh Fusiliers who had been employed as [a] clerk at GHQ, and had been returned to the line for disciplinary purposes, had treacherously deserted to the enemy, taking with him not only intimation of tomorrow’s attack, but also a copy of a map on which was indicated the position of every battery on that sector of the British front’.22
It is true that Fifth Army issued its warning about Sergeant Phillips on 16 August, but this made it clear he had been captured three weeks before, so he could not possibly have been responsible, while the story about him being dismissed from GHQ also seems fanciful. Another survivor of the attack, Private William Groom of 5th Bn London Regiment, heard the same story in an officer’s pep-talk: ‘At first we thought it was just a yarn to excuse our costly defeat but then we remembered the shells that dropped amongst us, and slaughtered the reserves behind us, at the very moment our barrage opened.’23
A version of the story reached 51st (Highland) Division, with some gruesome embroidery: ‘The location of our tanks in a wood was said to have been … given away, with resulting destructive attention from bombers; and it was also said that the spy, caught later in flagrante delicto, was obliterated in the mud by an appropriate and lucky tank accident.’24
* * *
Now that the facts have finally been uncovered, it is possible to disentangle the mixture of truth, speculation and rumour which make up the story of Sergeant Phillips. It is clear the Tank Corps were mistaken in one important respect: the Germans already knew there were tanks in Oosthoek Wood before Sergeant Phillips and Corporal John were captured on 26/27 July. They had been shelling Oosthoek Wood since the beginning of the month, with the bombardment that killed the tankmen from C Battalion, for instance, taking place on 4 July.25 The fact was that despite the attempts at camouflage, German aircraft had spotted tell-tale signs almost as soon as the tanks moved in, and the intelligence officer who interrogated Sergeant Phillips added a significant note to his report: ‘Confirmed by aerial photographs.’26
In one important respect Sergeant Phillips and Corporal John probably did increase to the enemy’s knowledge. The aerial photographs had only revealed a small number of tanks in the wood, and the news that there were hundreds must have come as a shock. This may help to answer another question that perplexed the tank crews: if the Germans knew where the tanks were hidden, why did they not dedicate more effort to destroying them? It was true that the massive build-up of British forces in the Salient had created a profusion of targets, but it still seemed surprising that the shelling and bombing of Oosthoek Wood were, in the words of one officer, ‘rather desultory’.27 Or as Major Watson put it: ‘Knowing what they did, it is a little astonishing that the German gunners did not increase their nightly ration of shells, which merely disturbed the guard, who slept under the tanks when not on duty, and did not damage a tank.’28
This would make sense if the Germans had only spotted a few tanks in the wood. In addition, Major Clough Williams-Ellis offered another more depressing possibility: the tanks may not have been seen as much of a threat. ‘Perhaps the Germans, having no illusions as to what fighting in Flanders meant, and being reasonably alive to the natural limitations of tanks, scouted [i.e. dismissed] the idea of a tank attack being possible or being even seriously contemplated. Be that as it may, they certainly failed to act on the very valuable information given them in anything like an adequate way.’29
However, by the time the Germans learned the true scale of the tank preparations at Oosthoek, they may have thought it was too late. The interrogation report was prepared on 29 July, and it was reasonable to assume that by then the tanks would have moved into their forward positions ready for the attack, which was clearly imminent. However, if the Germans did think this they were mistaken. G Battalion had indeed left for the front line, but they were replaced by E Battalion, whose tanks began arriving in the wood on 29 July, while D Battalion had been designated as corps reserve and its tanks (including D51) would remain there until required.
Whatever the practical effect of the prisoners’ revelations, the fact remains that they did pass on information of potential value to the enemy, and it seems baffling that they should have done so. Sergeant Phillips, especially, was a seasoned soldier and held a trusted position as a senior NCO. He must have been familiar with the spirit, if not the letter, of the army’s standing orders: ‘If a man has the misfortune to be taken prisoner, he is not to give any information beyond his own name and rank. The enemy cannot and will not compel him to say more – though he may threaten to do so – on the contrary he will respect a man whose courage and patriotism do not fail even though wounded or a prisoner. Prisoners should be on their guard against Germans dressed as British officers who are employed by the enemy to extract information.’30 Perhaps some trickery was involved, while Major Watson thought the information was given ‘probably under pressure’.31 At the same time, Sergeant Phillips’ account of the raid suggests he felt some resentment towards the officer in charge, and no doubt the Germans played on this, as well as exploiting the confusion, fear and desire for self-preservation that might be found in any prisoner.
Strange to say, despite the curiosity that the story has aroused, no-one has ever identified Sergeant Phillips (or Corporal John), or found out what happened to them after the war. This turns out be harder than it sounds, since both names were relatively common in a Welsh regiment, and the military records give no further details about them.
The crucial clues are to be found in the German interrogation report, which identifies their battalion, and in an ‘embarkation roll’ which lists 1,000 officers and men who went to France with 14th Bn Royal Welsh Fusiliers in December 1915. This includes the name of 21158 Corporal S. Phillips,32 and the medal records show this number belonged to Samuel Phillips and confirm that he was promoted to sergeant.33 Finally, the records kept by the International Committee of the Red Cross show that he was indeed captured near Ypres on 26 July.34
* * *
In the late summer of 1917, a letter arrived at the terraced cottage of Mrs Phillips containing the information she had been praying for: her husband was safe and well, though a prisoner-of-war in Germany. The good news appeared in the local Welsh language newspaper: ‘The wife of Sergeant Sam Phillips … has received a letter from him saying he is a prisoner of the Germans in Lemberg [this should be Limburg], along with three others.’35
A few days later another local paper carried details of a letter sent from another camp in which he described his capture: ‘I was sent out one night and was in charge of a patrol when in the dark we went a little too far and got into a German trench. We put up a good fight before we were taken. Send me something to sweeten my coffee as we don’t get any sugar or milk and no tea, butter, or jam. I am only allowed to write one letter every fortnight.’36
Not surprisingly there was no mention of his interrogation, and Mrs Phillips was no doubt unaware of the furore this had caused. She had married Sam, who was a miner’s son, in 1911 when they were both aged twenty-three and he was working as a bricklayer, while his bride worked as a servant on a farm. After the wedding they went to live with her parents in their little cottage, though it must have been a tight fit as their first child was born soon afterwards. Other children followed, including a son born in 1916 who was obviously a parting gift before Sergeant Phillips went off to war.37
There was nothing in his past to indicate why he might have given away information, though we should not rush to judgment against him unless we have endured a similar situation ourselves. One searches his photograph for any clue, but the open face seems guileless and there is no obvious sign of malice or calculation. His family, not surprisingly, were aware he had served in the First World War but knew nothing more, not even that he had been taken prisoner, and do not believe that he might have been responsible for any breach of security. There is therefore no clue as to what might have motivated him.
Sergeant Phillips remained in captivity for the rest of the war, and we should leave him there to ponder what the future might hold; but the story has a strange and tragic sequel, and as we shall see, he would later repay any debt of honour that he might owe to his country.