Chapter 9

The Crozat Canal

The fog began to lift, and a party of the enemy, consisting of one officer and about thirty men, were seen advancing along the road towards the level crossing, but were wiped out by fire from two Hotchkiss guns at about 100 yards.

Lieutenant Colonel Julias Birch, 7/KRRC at Jussy

We now need to return to the III Corps sector to the point where the surviving units were ordered to fall back across the Crozat Canal. On 21 March Lieutenant General Butler was one of the first corps commanders to receive a visit by Gough, who found him ‘a little anxious’. Under the circumstances Butler’s palpable anxiety was understandable. The 14th Division had been driven back on to the rear of its Battle Zone and in so doing had exposed the left flank of the 18th Division, while the 58th Division’s Forward and Battle Zones around La Fère had been overwhelmed. To his credit Butler had foreseen a likely retirement across the canal and had already ordered much of his remaining artillery to be withdrawn to the west bank where it could support the inevitable retirement of the infantry later that night. Gough’s visit simply served to rubber stamp a decision that had already been taken. Butler issued his orders for the retirement to the canal at 7.25pm and by the time those orders had filtered down from divisions to their constituent battalions it was 9.00pm before movement was underway.

The Crozat Canal was some forty feet wide and unfordable and as such presented a much needed defensive line behind which to regroup. The defence of the canal line was not only important in stemming the German advance but was also vital in respect of maintaining a secure front with the French to enable their reinforcements to arrive unmolested. However, little time or effort had been put into securing the west bank of the canal as a defensive line and apart from some spitlocked trenches, the canal line had been largely ignored. As far as the demolition of bridges was concerned the sheer number must have been a cause for concern in itself! On the 58th Division’s sector alone there were fourteen road and several footbridges that crossed the canal, while on the front of the neighbouring 18th Division, there were six road bridges and numerous footbridges between Liez and Menessis. From Menessis to Jussy in the 14th Division’s area there were seven road bridges and a further five that were the responsibility of the French. In the event German troops also used the canal locks to cross the canal at Liez, which, in order to preserve the depth of water in the waterway, had not been destroyed.

We last left the Londons on the morning of 22 March – now a composite force under the command of Lieutenant Colonel William Dann – dug in along the Vouël Line, extending south from the twin hills of the Butte de Vouël to the Chauny-Tergniers road, and attacking enemy infantry crossed the canal using the remains of the main road bridge between Tergnier and Fargnieres. Although the bridges had been blown by 303/Field Company, it was to the eternal frustration of RE officers that infantry commanders continued with the assumption that demolition would automatically scatter bridge structures and leave nothing behind. With larger structures such as rail and major road bridges, demolition would collapse a bridge sufficiently to prevent the crossing of transport and artillery but often leave enough of the structure for determined infantry to clamber across, a scenario only too well illustrated in the assertions of Captain Clive Grimwade, the 4/Londons’ historian who pointed to demolition charges not exploding and ‘one or two bridges … not … entirely demolished after our withdrawal’. Only the bridges constructed of wood could be destroyed completely and no one wished to be reminded of the warning voiced by Lieutenant Colonel Arthur Walker, CRE to XIX Corps, that bridge demolition alone would have a limited effect on an advancing enemy. In the event the ability of German infantry to cross the canal using the debris from ‘demolished’ bridges ultimately led to the loss of the canal line.

Once across the canal German infantry extended northwards and pushed 8/ Londons back from the canal onto the Vouël Line, a position that became critical by mid-morning of 23 March after two battalions of the French 125th Regiment were thrown back from the canal and the 18th Division was forced back towards Villequier-Aumont – an encounter we will return to later.

As 173 Brigade withdrew to a new line east of Viry-Noureuil it was almost immediately compromised by the German penetration of Frières Wood to the north. For Brigadier General Rivers Worgan, commanding the brigade, the likelihood of being cut off from the 18th Division on his left was fast becoming a reality but in the meantime he had the defence of Chauny to worry about.

With what must have been tinged with a hint of desperation, Worgan ordered Major Albert Grover of 2/4 Londons to organize all the available personnel for the defence of the town. Albert Grover and Lieutenant Colonel Dann had previously served together in the Bedfordshire Regiment and quite naturally when Dann took over command of 2/4 Londons he wanted his second-in-command to be an individual he knew and trusted. If anyone could hold Chauny it was Grover:

‘With remarkable skill and despatch Major Grover collected a heterogeneous force of clerks, cooks, officers’ servants, transport drivers – anyone who could hold a rifle –and by dusk reported himself in position on the eastern outskirts of Chauny with a force of ten officers and 270 other ranks at his command. Of these two officers and fifty-four other ranks were of the 2/4 Londons.’¹

Grover’s Force – as it became known – was one of the first of the ‘scarecrow armies’; units assembled from every available officer and man and pushed into the line as a last gasp defence. In many cases the men involved had not used a rifle in anger for some considerable time but desperate times called for desperate measures and anyone wearing khaki was required to fight. And fight they did! Little has been written of the Chauny episode but we do know that Grover’s Force came under attack at 11.00am on 24 March after a French outpost on the canal had been overwhelmed in the morning mist, announcing to Grover that units of enemy infantry were working their way round the southern edge of Chauny along the canal.

By this time brigade headquarters had been moved back to Abbécourt but the enemy incursion to the south of Chauny – unmistakably an attempt to drive a wedge between Chauny and the Condren bridgehead – prompted a further withdrawal that was rendered even more imperative by the rapid German advance towards Guiscard and Noyon. The Londons’ regimental chaplain thought Saturday 23 March to be an ‘exciting day’ as he observed the retirement west of Chauny:

‘The road behind Chauny was chock-a-block with civilians, British transport and other evidences of war. I met Garraway, our Brigade Staff Captain, and asked him what the orders were. He said, “we go back to Noyon, but the Germans have broken through on our left, and their cavalry will be in Noyon before us.” We both agreed it looked as though we were caught.’²

In the meantime Grover’s Force was fighting it out along the canal and in the streets of Chauny. The men took up positions covering the eastern exits to the town from the St Quentin Canal to a point north of the Chauny-Vitry Noureuil road. On their right, straddling the canal and the Oise, was the 18/Entrenching Battalion – previously the 12/Middlesex – which had been disbanded in January 1918 but was now back on the front line as a fighting unit. It would have been elements of this battalion who were defending the trestle bridge over the Oise at Chauny when German infantry began crossing using the debris which was still largely above the waterline. It was only the efforts of Major William Tamlyn of 504/Field Company, who, in the face of the enemy, set fire to the wooden structure that prevented the enemy from crossing en masse.

In Chauny Grover’s Force was coming under increasing pressure from German units:

‘For several hours Grover’s details … maintained their fight, but in the afternoon the withdrawal began in accordance with the orders already issued. Under Grover’s command the mixed force was skilfully withdrawn, fighting a stubborn rearguard action, to a prepared position about 1,000 yards east of Abbécourt.’³

At some point during this withdrawal Albert Grover was badly wounded and command of the force fell to Captain Samuel Askham. By 4.40pm Abbécourt had been evacuated and the very tired remnant of 173 Brigade eventually crossed the Oise at Manicamp, blowing the bridges behind them and setting fire to the RE Dump at Chauny. Grover survived his wounds to take over command of 2/4 Londons in June 1918. His award of the DSO was gazetted in July 1918, the citation highlighting his organisation of stragglers ‘into a fighting force to enable him to hold an important line, which was subsequently repeatedly and unsuccessfully attacked … Finally, when severely wounded he continued to direct operations from a stretcher, refusing to be evacuated until he had explained the situation to another senior officer.’⁴

William Dann’s diary entry for 24 March told the story of the final days of 173 Brigade: ‘The remnants of the 2/2nd, 3rd, 2/4th and 8th Londons, which I had been commanding, were withdrawn across the Oise at Manicamp and went out of action to be reformed into one battalion.’

Extending the British line north from Vouël were units of the 18th Division. The 7/Queen’s Royal West Surreys were in position in the shallow valley to the north of the Butte de Vouël – approximately along the line of the present-day D1 – with the remainder of 55 Brigade at the Bois de Frières, close to les Francs Bois Farm. 3 Cavalry Brigade and the 12th Entrenching Battalion – now under the orders of Major General Lee – held the line of the canal from Quessy to Menessis, while 54 Brigade was holding the line from the north of Menessis to the eastern edge of Jussy.

At 10.00pm on 22 March command of Cator’s 58th Division passed to the French 6th Army which immediately despatched two battalions of the French 125th Regiment of Infantry to counter-attack and regain the line of the canal in the neighbourhood of Tergnier, an attack in which 55 Brigade was asked to cooperate. The French reinforcements were certainly needed but whether they would delay the increasing numbers of German infantry now across the canal remained to be seen

In the early hours of 23 March a conference of senior officers from 55 Brigade convened in a forester’s hut to the west of the Bois de Frières where it was agreed that two companies of 7/Queen’s would support the French infantry in taking the high ground west of Quessy at le Sart and from there regain the Crozat Canal line. Commanding 7/Queen’s was Lieutenant Colonel Christopher ‘Kit’ Bushell, a Special Reserve officer who had marched with his battalion during the retreat from Mons in 1914 and had been wounded on the Aisne on 14 September of that year. Rising through the ranks of the battalion from company commander to commanding officer, he had already been awarded the DSO and twice mentioned in despatches. Captain George Nichols, the Adjutant of 82 Artillery Brigade remembered meeting Bushell on 19 March, shortly after he had taken command of the Queen’s:

‘Tall, properly handsome, with his crisp curling hair and his chin that was firm but not markedly so; eyes that were reflective rather than compelling; earnest to a point of absorbed seriousness – we did right to note him well. He was destined to win great glory in the vortex of flame and smoke and agony and panic into which we were to be swept within the next thirty-six hours.’⁵

Present at the meeting with Kit Bushell were Lieutenant Colonel Algernon Ransome of 7/Buffs and Lieutenant Colonel Minet of the 18th Machine Gun Corps. What their private thoughts were concerning the likely success of the attack remain unrecorded but the arrival of the French infantry at 6.00am with only thirty-five rounds of ammunition per man did not bode well. Further doubts must have arisen when it became apparent the French infantry commanders had no knowledge of the terrain over which they were to attack, terrain which was shrouded by the thick morning fog. Captain James Snell, the Queen’s Adjutant, was of the opinion that:

‘The attack of the French was doomed from the outset. The enemy was in great strength and had only been kept in check by the tremendous efforts on the part of the 7/Buffs and Queen’s, together with the magnificent assistance from the NCOs of the 7th Cavalry Brigade who kept their machine guns in action for hours without ceasing, a part of 7/Queen’s being employed in filling their belts.’⁶

As the fog began to lift George Nichols could see ‘the Boche swarming over the canal’:

‘The Bosche outnumbered us by at least four to one. I walked between two rows of British and French infantry lying ready in their shallow, newly-dug trenches. They looked grave and thoughtful; some of them had removed their tunics. I remember noting that of four hundred men I passed not one was talking to his neighbour.’⁷

Nevertheless, preceded by an hour-long artillery bombardment, the attack went ahead. Initially, the counter-attack made good progress despite the heavy German machine-gun fire, but the German recovery was swift and, handicapped by limited ammunition, the French attack began to waver. James Snell was with B Company:

‘The French gallantly advanced towards the enemy, but were seriously shaken when their commanding officer was one of the first to fall. The enemy met the advance with a barrage of machine gun fire of an intensity which I had never before witnessed, signifying their tremendous numerical superiority. Our allies tried several times to advance and then withdrew followed by the enemy. Our field of fire was so affected that it was with much difficulty that the enemy advance was again held.’⁸

Around 10.00am Bushell took command of the French left flank as well as the two companies of 7/Queen’s, his presence rallying the troops and keeping the line steady but at the same time making himself a target for enemy snipers. It wasn’t long before a glancing ricochet hit him in the head, but again and again he rallied his troops, walking up and down in front of them, encouraging them to fresh efforts. ‘Not until he had assured himself that his positions were intact,’ wrote Nichols, ‘did he go back to Rouez to report to General Wood.’ Even then he returned to the firing line where ‘he visited every portion of the line, both English and Allied, in face of terrific machine-gun and rifle fire, exhorting the troops to remain where they were and to kill the enemy’. conduct of the 30-year-old former barrister had been exemplary; Christopher Bushell’s award of the Victoria Cross was published in the London Gazette in May 1918.

The Queen’s war diary entry for 23 March records one officer killed, five wounded and a further ten missing. Amongst the NCOs and men 16 are known to be killed, 66 were wounded and a further 141 recorded missing at roll call that evening. A comparison of the 1918 casualty figures with the present day CWGC database provides the more accurate figures as: four officers killed, four wounded and six taken prisoner. Of the 141 missing NCOs and men we now know 62 were killed, 66 were wounded and the remainder taken prisoner.

As for Christopher Bushell, with his head swathed in bandages, he remained upright long enough to see his men fall back in an orderly fashion towards Frières-Faillouel, aided no doubt by the guns of 82 Artillery Brigade which were firing continuously from their position south of the Bois Halot. As the mist cleared it was obvious that the Germans had worked their way through the Bois Halot and were heading directly towards Rouez Farm. Here Bushell’s men joined the defensive line running through the Bois de Frières which held the enemy temporarily, but events at Chauny and further north at Jussy rendered the line impossible to hold forcing yet another retirement to Villequier-Aumont where French troops took over the line and 55 Brigade were withdrawn to Bethancourt.

The 10/Essex crossed the Crozat Canal at 11.00pm on 21 March using the bridge just north of the main lock at Liez and marched to Frières-Faillouel where they spent the night in the open before moving to Rouez Farm the next day. On the morning of 23 March it must have been obvious to the 28-year-old Major Alfred Tween, commanding the Essex, that the Anglo-French counter-attack on the far side of Frières Wood had been unsuccessful, particularly when streams of French infantry began passing through the battalion:

‘Presently the crackling of rifle and machine gun fire obliterated the sound of tramping feet. A French liaison officer, feverishly gesticulating, and asking for the General, bore on us the truth that the enemy were in the wood, and only a few hundred yards away. Orders were rushed on company commanders and in a twinkling companies filed out into the wood. There was barely enough time to get a line flung out along the road to Frières when the advancing hoards were upon us.’⁹

The Essex were now lining the forest road running north–south through the wood with their right flank on the junction with the Tergnier-Rouez road, it was 3.00pm.

Advancing towards them with IR 27 was 38-year-old Hauptmann Willy Lange from Frankfurt. Together with IR 75, IR 27 had been part of the second wave troops advancing from La Fère with the 211th Infantry Division mopping up the countless British positions that had been left isolated in the fog. On 23 March Willy’s battalion was ordered to meet the advancing threat of approaching French reinforcements and found himself, along with IR 75, heading through the wood towards the forest road and the men of the 10/Essex. Captain Randolph Chell watched the German infantry advance out of the wood before giving the order for his company to open fire:

‘The Essex rifles scorched through them like jets of fire. New lines sprang up, and were mown down again until one almost sickened of the slaughter. There were at least three battalions of the enemy, (sic) and again and again the waves were crippled and sent back.’¹⁰

But it was not all one-sided. On the edge of the wood was a gamekeeper’s cottage which was quickly occupied by German IR 27 machine gunners who brought a heavy destructive fire down on the nearby D Company positions:

‘At the [cottage] eight to ten heavy machine guns raved incessantly … The well behind the lodge was in constant use to refill the thirst of the steaming guns. One of ours climbed right onto the road to get a better view. Bullets buzzed through the air and smacked without pause against the walls and trees … although all platoon leaders dropped out one after another, me and my company commanders almost emerged unscathed. I received but two minor scratches, nevertheless everybody got shots through his overcoat or gas mask at least.’¹¹

With both flanks threatened the Essex began to withdraw through the wood towards Rouez Farm:

‘It was at this stage that Lieutenant [Arthur] Gallie refused to withdraw, and ordering his platoon to go back with the rest of the company he continued to fight on with only his servant to help him. Finally he ordered his servant to go back and was last seen still fighting.’¹²

It was in the vicinity of the farm that enemy troops were seen to be about to take the ridge of high ground on the right flank. Tween immediately recognised this was the critical point in the battle: should the high ground fall then the Essex positions would become untenable:

‘All the rifles were in the line holding the Germans back in the wood, so Major Tween decided there was nothing for it but to attack with Battalion Headquarters – just a handful of pioneers, signallers, runners and even sanitary men. He led the attack himself running out in front shouting the men on. Alas, Tween himself was mortally wounded and died a little later – but they hoofed the Germans out and took the position.’¹³

As inconsequential as this clash appears to be at first glance, Brigadier General Harold Higginson would have been alert to the reality of the situation, and as Chell himself remarked, ‘it was pregnant with consequences’. Every moment gained by the Essex at the vital junction with the French was crucial in preventing von Hutier from driving a wedge between the two armies. As the Essex battalion history takes pains to remind us, this was not just a British battle. Even though the 9th French Cuirassiers à Pied that were fighting alongside the Essex were still short of ammunition, ‘the French armoured cars dashed up and down in acrobatic fashion, pouring out bullets in streams, and effectively assisting in holding up the enemy’.

At about 6.00pm the order was given to withdraw, the Essex – now under the command of Major Herbert Innocent – pulled back through the narrow exit corridor behind them to the Chauny road where they reformed. Many felt it had been something of a miracle that the battalion had managed to escape being surrounded; a situation they certainly would have found themselves in had they remained for much longer.

Casualty figures for the day’s fighting added a further two officers and thirty-two NCOs and men to those who had already lost their lives since the offensive began. In addition to Major Tween who died of his wounds, Captain Robert Binney and Second Lieutenant Norman Hight had both been killed. Second Lieutenant John Amps – who had only been with the battalion for three weeks – was captured along with Lieutenant Arthur Gallie who had courageously remained behind fighting after the initial withdrawal from the Frières road. As for the numbers wounded, the war diary is not specific, but during the first five days of the March offensive eight officers were wounded together with 155 other ranks.

* * *

North of Mennessis the canal continues on its north westerly sweep towards Jussy, passing under the site of the former Montagne Bridge and the broad-gauge railway bridge before it dog-legs around the northern edge of the town. The Montagne Bridge crossed the canal near la Montague Farm while the larger railway bridge – some 700 yards further west – carried the railway from Montescourt to meet the railway triangle formed at the junction with the line from Tergnier to Ham. In addition to the road bridge at Jussy and some 16 foot bridges, there were two light railway bridges to the west. While the majority of bridges were destroyed after III Corps units had crossed the canal, in the confusion as to which engineers – British or French – were responsible for demolishing the three railway bridges, these were left intact. Sappers from 89/Field Company were sent to deal with the bridges west of Jussy but to the south the Montagne Bridge was still intact and passable, as was the broad-gauge railway bridge. Although the railway bridge had been prepared for demolition by French engineers, Lieutenant Moore and his sappers found it abandoned when they arrived. Firing the French charges a single span of the bridge remained intact and Moore’s attempts to cut the girder with guncotton failed leaving the bridge still negotiable on foot. This was bad enough but with no explosive available for the Montagne Bridge the scene was set for another rearguard action that would end with the award of a Victoria Cross.

As with the line of the canal further south, had it been properly prepared as a defensive position it might just have held long enough for the retreating III Corps to regroup behind it and form an effective opposition. As it was, the rearguard action here was piecemeal and not entirely helped by the failure to destroy the two bridges to the south of Jussy, a detail noted with some dismay by Captain Henry Brookling, commanding a company of 11/Royal Fusiliers. ‘The bridges were entirely intact and the substantial railway bridge crossing the canal just south of Jussy was only partially displaced and was passable by troops on foot.’¹⁴

Captain John Batten-Pooll, commanding C Squadron of the 5th Royal Irish Lancers, was part of the dismounted cavalry defending the canal to the west of Jussy. His squadron was responsible for the defence of three of the bridges. ‘I had no alternative but to allot one troop to each bridge,’ he wrote. But the fact he was cut off from some of his men by infantry units that appeared to be wedged in between him and his regimental headquarters prevented a combined action by the regiment and played havoc with communication. ‘The same must have been true of the infantry.’ His observations on the state of the canal defences are interesting:

‘When the regiment took up positions to defend the various bridges it was found that a partially dug system of trenches existed. These, however, were some 200 to 300 yards to the south of the canal, which ran between embankments, and wire entanglements had been constructed on the southern bank. For a defence of the line of the canal the siting of these works was quite useless and positions had to be occupied on the banks itself. The wire entanglements seriously interfered with those positions and were dismantled as far as possible in the time available.’¹⁵

On the morning of 22 March the canal line south of Jussy was held by the 7th Battalion Bedfordshire Regiment (7/Bedfords) in position between Mennessis and the intact Montagne Bridge. To their left was the 6th Battalion Northamptonshire Regiment (6/Northamptons) which was in turn in contact with three companies of 11/Royal Fusiliers. The line to the edge of the town was held by elements of 9/Scottish Rifles and the 3rd and 5th Dismounted Brigades from the 3rd Cavalry Division.

At 6.00pm that evening units of the 1st Bavarian Infantry Regiment, under the cover of a trench-mortar bombardment, made a determined effort to cross the canal using the Montagne Bridge and established a bridgehead on the western bank. It was during this attack that 29-year-old Second Lieutenant Alfred Herring, who had been attached to the Northamptons from the Army Service Corps, found himself cut off and surrounded. The former chartered accountant immediately counter-attacked with his men and a company of 7/Bedfords and in doing so regained the line of the canal and captured over twenty prisoners and six machine guns. The post was continually attacked through the night but Herring and his diminishing band of men hung onto the canal bank for over ten hours. There is little doubt that the initiative and personal bravery of this officer in preventing German infantry from using the Montagne Bridge held up the advance and assisted considerably in maintaining the line of the canal. But the fact remained that despite efforts to destroy the bridge and the courage of Alfred Herring and his men, it would not be long before the position would be overwhelmed, particularly as German infantry were already crossing the canal further south.

West of Jussy the Bavarians made two attempts to cross the canal on the evening of 22 March using the remains of the demolished bridges and light bridges which had been constructed by their engineers. Both attempts were beaten back by the Scottish Rifles and the King’s Royal Rifle Corps – readers will recall that the 7 and 8/KRRC had retired from the 14th Division Forward Zone through the German lines on the evening of 21 March. Led by Lieutenant Colonel Julias Birch, the remnants of both battalions occupied a position 200 yards in front of the railway line between Jussy and Flavy-le-Martel. But it was a hopeless defence in the face of overwhelming numbers. Yet another German attempt to cross at Jussy in the early hours of 23 March was met with a counter-attack delivered by a mixed body of men from 5/Lancers and the KRRC led by 25-year-old Captain Maurice St Aubyn of 7/KRRC. St Aubyn had been left with the transport lines in the town after Lieutenant Colonel Birch established his headquarters in a cellar of a house on the level crossing on the Jussy-Flavy road. In the confusion of fog and darkness Birch tells us that after his adjutant pushed back the Bavarian infantry ‘almost singlehandedly’, he was mistaken for the enemy and shot by a sentry.

The morning of 23 March was greeted again by a thick fog which covered all the British positions along the canal and Bavarian infantry lost little time in using it to their advantage. Gefreiter Georg Maier, a machine gunner with the 1st Bavarian Division, crossed the canal west of Jussy:

‘Thanks to the fog [the enemy] was not able to hit us hard, and our infantry stormed the position where the firing was coming from and we followed with our machine guns. The town was soon on fire. It looked grotesque through the dense fog, and we became confused by all the noise of shell fire, rifle fire, and the cries of the wounded. Because of the fog we couldn’t see much of the enemy – or even our own forces – but we stormed on through the streets amongst the burning houses.’¹⁶

According to Birch once a foothold had been gained by the German infantry and it was obvious they were not going to be stopped, there was a wholesale rush to escape:

‘Reports were to hand that the enemy had effected crossings of the canal on both sides of Jussy. This was confirmed at daybreak by the garrison of the village retiring precipitately along the Jussy-Cugny road past my headquarters. This garrison was a general mixture of various units, some few were persuaded to stand fast on my line of defence, but the majority were panic stricken and there was no holding them. The mist mercifully sheltered their retreat, otherwise I doubt whether any would have escaped to fight again, as the country to our rear was flat and commanded by the German positions.’¹⁷

Forced back to the railway embankment astride the Jussy-Flavy road near Birch’s headquarters, the remains of the KRRC, along with the survivors of the Scottish Rifles and the 5th Dismounted Brigade, formed a last ditch defensive line. At the same time, under cover of the fog, elements of the enemy found themselves forward of the main force on the northern side of the embankment. The railway embankment offered a view across the countryside to Flavy-le-Martel and the need to keep the German infantry off this vantage point was of paramount importance. Birch’s account again:

‘German heads could already be discerned on the top of the bank and through the mist which was beginning to lift. I rallied what men I could by whistle and drove the enemy off. We were driven off in turn but counter-attacked once more successfully. As a result we were one side of the embankment and the Germans on the other, throwing hand grenades over the top until our stock was exhausted. During this curious state of affairs two grenades fell on my steel helmet but misfired, a third fell close by and on exploding damaged my leg and shook me up.’¹⁸

For a short time it was stalemate as Georg Maier remembered only too clearly before his unit was subjected to ‘friendly fire’:

‘We were lying on one side of the embankment, the English on the other. What to do? We had no hand grenades, and neither did they. Soon we had lost three men out of four shot through the head by snipers – but the worst was still to come. Our own artillery began firing on the embankment. They were unaware that some fifty men and our four machine guns were already there. One shell dropped between the tracks on top of the embankment and killed a few of our infantrymen. Another man from one of the machine guns had his left arm torn away. Suddenly to our horror we got fire from machine gun teams in the rear. The thick fog of the morning had helped us take Jussy, but now we were unable to call off the artillery fire.’¹⁹

The continued Hotchkiss fire along the front of the embankment from 5/ Lancers was all that was keeping the enemy at bay – by this time Batten-Pooll was also on the embankment having withdrawn from the canal line – and when their ammunition began to run out Birch and Lieutenant Colonel Herbert Cape, commanding the Lancers, were left with little choice but to withdraw to a partially dug trench about 300 yards west of the railway. By the time orders had been issued the fog began to lift, giving the German machine gunners the opportunity to fire at will on the retreating British. Shortly afterwards – around 11.30am according to Birch – both flanks were under attack and the garrison had been reduced to thirty officers and men. ‘This situation could not last very long with fresh German troops constantly arriving. Machine gunners got round our flanks; we were shot down and the few survivors taken prisoner.’ Birch was one of those taken prisoner, recording with some satisfaction that the ‘battalion commander to whom I was led was incensed that our action had delayed his programme, as he said, by two hours’.

If casualties had been heavy on the German side, they had also been significant for the British. The 5/Lancers lost 24-year-old Lieutenant Richard Hearson and twenty-one other ranks killed but Birch’s battalion had suffered enormously; at roll call that evening they could barely muster 5 officers and 130 other ranks, the Scottish Rifles were a little better off with 8 officers and 192 other ranks.

In the meantime, further south enemy units had crossed the canal at Mennessis and got into the communal cemetery, news which was compounded shortly after midday by word that enemy troops were in the Frières Wood, all of which told a story of potential envelopment. For the 54 Brigade troops along the canal to the south of Jussy a fresh line of defence was organised along the railway embankment and orders were sent out to retire onto this line. But fog and the general confusion that existed amongst units fighting on the canal line contributed to the fate of many isolated groups of infantry being left behind. One of these was Captain Brookling with men of 11/Fusiliers:

‘The 11th Royal Fusiliers (or at least that part of it which actually held the front line – A, B and D Companies) did not receive the order to retire on the morning of 23rd. No such word reached me and we therefore held on and it was early afternoon before we were eventually withdrawn owing to the complete exhaustion of ammunition.’²⁰

Brookling and his company had defended their position on the canal for fourteen hours against repeated efforts by the enemy to cross the water, eventually he was badly wounded but still managed to stand his ground on the canal despite the casualties that were fast impacting on his men. When the orders to retire eventually reached them it was too late for many of them to avoid capture and Brookling was taken prisoner along with seven other officers, a conclusion to three days fighting that was only tempered by his award of the Military Cross. Surviving Fusilier officers returning from captivity after the war maintained that the left and right companies near the canal were surrounded and attacked from the railway line behind them. Eventually, wrote Second Lieutenant Arthur Snell, ‘field guns and trench mortars were brought up against them and the survivors surrendered either late that night or early the next morning’. Interestingly, Snell – having managed to avoid capture himself – then fell back with a miscellaneous group of infantry and cavalry and joined the northern end of the line running through Frières Wood, a line that Snell maintains was held long after 6.00pm to enable the ‘remnants of 54th Brigade and cavalry and other infantry to pass through them,’ where they were collected up and formed into columns.²¹

The CWGC database lists over 50 NCOs and men of 11/Fusiliers killed in action between 22 and 23 March together with 19-year-old Second Lieutenant Charles Knott of C Company – who was reported to have killed four of the enemy with his revolver and was shot down whilst clubbing a fifth with the empty weapon – and Second Lieutenants Robert Simmonds and William Francis. The vast majority of these men are commemorated on the Pozières Memorial.

A little further to the east along the canal from Brookling, Alfred Herring and his men at Montagne Bridge did receive the orders to retire:

‘We held onto our position in front of the bridge until 10.00am on March 23, when I received orders to withdraw to the railway embankment about 500 yards to the rear. We put the captured guns out of action and withdrew in good order. We just reached the railway embankment when I received the following order – previous order cancelled, you will return to your original position – I started back with my men, but during our withdrawal the Germans had got down to the canal and lined the bank with machine guns, and out of 50 of us only 2 men and myself succeeded in reaching our original position. We were subjected to a heavy machine gun fire and the Germans crossed the canal at many points in boats and captured us. We had no ammunition left.’²²

Alfred Herring’s Victoria Cross citation referred to the stand he and his men made in front of the Montagne Bridge, this final act of courage in the face of withering machine-gun fire was surely a more gallant act. Quite why Herring was ordered back to the canal line has never been explained; the general order to retire was given at 11.30am by Brigadier General Sadlier-Jackson but the local front on which Herring was fighting would have been commanded at battalion level by Lieutenant Colonel Reginald Turner, whose headquarters was on the railway embankment. No mention is made in the Northamptons’ war diary of Herring’s stand at the bridge or of any orders to return to the canal.

Shortly after midday it was obvious to all that a further withdrawal was necessary, both flanks had been pierced and the brigade was in danger of envelopment. Despite the arrival of 200 of the Canadian Mounted Brigade, Sadlier-Jackson’s orders to pull back to the high ground south of Faillouel were soon compromised by the speed of the German advance, and the retirement continued towards Villeselve. But here we must leave the remnants of the Jussy defence and move northwest along the canal to St Simon.

St Simon is a little over three miles along the towpath from Jussy and is situated at the junction of the St Quentin and Somme Canals. The River Somme itself rises at Fonsommes near St Quentin and runs south to St Simon where, in its canalised form, it continues west towards Péronne and Amiens. It is here that we meet the 20th (Light) Division which had been placed in reserve but made available to Lieutenant General Sir Ivor Maxse and his XVIII Corps, one of the divisions Gough had originally wanted to move to the north of Ham on 18 March, a request that was refused by GHQ.

Despite Maxse’s confidence on the eve of 21 March, his three divisions were now under severe pressure. Despite the fact that he still held six miles of his Battle Zone, eight battalions had been all but annihilated in the Forward Zone and both flanks of his sector were under threat by the loss of Essigny on the III Corps front and Maissemy on the left. Gough tells us that he found Maxse and his staff cheerful and active when he visited them late on 21 March:

‘Maxse and I arranged, therefore, that he should continue to hold his Battle Zone as long as possible on Friday 22nd, but that he should draw back his right flank, to keep touch with the III Corps which was withdrawing to the line of the Crozat Canal, and that he should also throw back his left to cover the Omigon valley and keep touch with XIX Corps.’²³

After moving south from the Menin Road sector at Ypres in February 1918 the 20th Division was billeted in and around Ham and Ercheu to the west of the Crozat Canal. Divisional orders called for the three brigades of infantry to support the Rear Zone defences between the Somme and the Omignon Rivers – from St Simon to Trefcon – allocating one brigade of artillery to each of the 36th and 30th Divisions. By 3.00pm on 21 March the situation on the XVIII Corps front had become critical and 61 Brigade was ordered to the bridgeheads at St Simon and Tugny to cover the retirement of the 36th Division. With 60 Brigade forming a defensive line from the Somme to Vaux and 59 Brigade further north between Vaux and Trefcon, the division was scattered along a front of over ten miles; a situation that drew sharp criticism from Major Christopher Ling who was serving on the XVIII Corps staff:

‘Was the 20th Division used for counter-attack? Not a bit of it! One brigade was put in to help the 36th Division and the other two were strung out all along the rear Zone to act as a net onto which, and through which, the corps was to retire. The 20th Division as an offensive unit ceased to exist. In my view this was the turning point between the active offensive-defensive visualized in the corps defence scheme and the passive defence which so quickly deteriorated into a disorganized retirement.’²⁴

Ling may well have been right in his judgement particularly as the corps defence scheme had identified the Essigny-le-Grand positions as a weakness and specified they should be regained by a counter-attack delivered by the 20th Division. To this end, the division had actually practised the attack some weeks before and, according to Ling, ‘every platoon commander knew his line of advance and role’. But as we know, even the best of plans were discarded in the face of the strength of the German advance.

Brigadier General James Cochrane and 61 Brigade were in position on the eastern side of the canal by dusk on 21 March. The 7th Battalion Somerset Light Infantry (7/Somersets) were in reserve at St Simon with the 7th Battalion Duke of Cornwall’s Light Infantry (7/DCLI) and the 12th King’s Liverpool Regiment (12/King’s) on the canal line from St Simon to Tugny. Later that evening the brigade was ordered to pull back over the canal; the DCLI being moved back to Ollezy in brigade reserve, the 12/King’s deployed north of St Simon to protect the Tugny bridgeheads and the 7/Somersets taking over a line from the junction with the Somme Canal running southeast along the canal towards Jussy. Lieutenant Colonel Cecil Troyte-Bullock, commanding the Somersets, was informed by brigade headquarters that he would be able to get in touch with troops on his right flank – presumably units of the Royal Berkshire Regiment. ‘As a matter of fact,’ commented Troyte-Bullock, ‘the only troops we ever did get in touch with in that direction was the Huns on the morning of the 23rd.’

Once the brigade was across the river on the west bank the sappers were able to begin the demolition of the bridges. Lieutenant John Stapylton Smith from 150/Field Company moved quickly to blow the St Simon bridges – four road and seven foot-bridges. The main bridge, close to the junction with the Somme Canal, was only demolished with seconds to spare; we are told German infantry were actually on the bridge at the time. At Pont de Tugny there was another heart-stopping moment at the main steel girder bridge which was in the charge of 29-year-old Lieutenant Cecil Knox and his section of sappers from 150/ Field Company. Minutes before the bridge was blown and only just ahead of the pursuing German infantry was Major Kenneth Cousland with what was left of the 179 Artillery Brigade 18-pounders. With the Germans in sight up the road, Knox was preparing to demolish the bridge and was clearly reluctant to let him cross, but Cousland insisted. ‘I had to use my authority to force him to let us cross over before he pressed the button. A few minutes later and we would have all been stranded.’ Cecil Knox was a Nuneaton man and one of nine brothers, of whom six were serving officers. Andrew had been killed at La Boisselle in 1915 and his elder brother James was commanding 1/7 Royal Warwicks on the Asiago plateau in Italy. Two other brothers were also serving with the RE and Alexander was at sea with the Royal Naval Voluntary Reserve.

With Cousland safely across the bridge and the Germans about to set foot on the bridge, Knox ‘pressed the button’ which, to his horror, failed to detonate the charges. A split second later, Knox, a civil engineer in civilian life, rushed forward under heavy machine-gun fire and lit the stand-by instantaneous fuse located under the bridge. It was a suicidal act that should have concluded with the young sapper’s death but incredibly he survived the encounter without serious injury – although his hearing was affected for the remainder of his life. His award of the Victoria Cross was announced in the London Gazette in March 1919.²⁵

Trying desperately to rejoin the Somersets from the battalion transport lines at Dury on 22 March was the battalion chaplain, the Reverend Thomas Westerdale. His detailed diary adds much to the sketchy information that surrounds the last stand of the battalion and the disarray that was apparent in the back areas to the west of the canal. Forced to detour round Ollezy he pushed along the road towards St Simon:

‘News spread down the St Simon road to Ollezy that the Boches were advancing rapidly and now began the general emigration of civilians from the villages right back to Noyon and beyond, the most pathetic sight of a lifetime. Off they went, some in carts, but most on foot pushing wheelbarrows full of household goods and driving lowing cattle before them.’²⁶