Stanley’s dismay at the hurriedly cobbled together force was further added to when these troops were suddenly withdrawn leaving him with the small body of men from his brigade headquarters and the sappers detailed to blow the bridges. To Stanley’s credit he deployed his meagre force on the bridges and established a small group of volunteers to harass the enemy as they gained entry to the town. Late in the afternoon of 22 March, a much-relieved Stanley was told to reform his brigade and bring them all back to Ham to assist in the defence. The 18th King’s Liverpool Regiment (18/King’s) arrived first at about 7.30pm taking up positions south of the town, two hours later the 17/King’s were established in the centre of the line while the remnants of 19/King’s, having fallen back through the 20th Division, arrived in the early hours of 23 March, forming up north of the town on the left of the line. Stanley recalled his dismay on being reunited with his ‘much knocked about’ battalions: ‘The 19th Battalion were so knocked about that one could hardly count them. They had lost all their officers except one, and he was wounded. Poor fellow! He was killed the next day.’³ In reality there was very little the brigadier could do at Ham apart from ensure the bridges were destroyed, a task he proceeded to carry out with his usual methodical style. At 3.00pm on 22 March Lieutenant Robert Petschler was summoned to Stanley’s headquarters and given very clear written instructions:

‘I saw the general and he gave me personal orders about the blowing up of one of the bridges: “Your only duty is to blow up Number 4 Bridge in the event of the enemy being in possession of the bridgehead – ie that there are none of our troops who can prevent him from getting over” … the bridge had to be left to the last, as it was the main line of retreat. It spanned the canal at Ham on the main road.’⁴

Number 4 Bridge – on the present day D932 heading south towards Guiscard and Noyon – was, in 1918, a substantial double girder construction designed to take heavy military traffic. A second bridge further to the east had been blown earlier in the morning by sappers from 200/Field Company. When Petschler arrived with his three sappers he discovered the bridge had already been prepared for demolition but the wooden foot-bridge close by had not. He and his men immediately set about dislodging the timbers and dropping them into the canal, a canal which Petschler noted was ‘almost dry in places and was passable for determined men’.

The road was now crowded with retiring troops and transports, ‘they came in endless streams for hours on end,’ wrote Petschler, who soon found himself acting as an impromptu traffic controller. As always, the retirement was continually harassed by German gunners who appeared to have access to an endless supply of ammunition. When Lieutenant Herbert Asquith and C/149 Battery entered Ham twenty-four hours after leaving Holnon Wood, he noted the bombardment was falling on a largely deserted town: ‘

The Germans were firing on the town with long-range guns, some of which were aiming at the bridges of the Somme Canal. The civilian population had vanished and there were many signs of the haste with which they had fled … while we were marching down the main street a man ran out with a box containing a large number of eggs and gave it to the captain to prevent it falling into the hands of the enemy. We crossed the bridge over the Somme Canal and halted a short distance away on the south side of the town.’⁵

Asquith and his battery crossed the canal in daylight, but as the sappers on the bridge were only too aware, the stream of men and transports continued all night, prompting Robert Petschler to wonder if everyone would cross before the Germans arrived. His thoughts were much along the same lines as Brigadier General Francis Duncan as he and his brigade major stood at the bridge collecting the remnants of 60 Brigade until the early hours of 23 March – but we will return to his part in the story shortly.

At 12.45am on 23 March the German advance broke through southeast of Ham at Aubigny and with the dawn came news that the railway bridge at Pithon had been crossed by units of the German 5th Guard Division and the right flank at Ham was now under pressure. The demolition of the Ham bridges had already begun and Petschler was becoming quite anxious:

‘The position was now desperate. The stragglers got fewer and in smaller parties, and I continually asked NCOs or officers if there were more to follow … in the distance I saw an officer leading about a platoon of men. When he approached he said he was the last of the infantry. I began to be very much on the alert. I called my sentries and waited. The officer came running back and said that his commanding officer ordered the bridge to be blown up. I did not do it immediately and waited for at least a quarter of an hour. Then I heard a tremendous burst of cheering – it was the Huns entering the town. Bullets were flattening themselves on the walls and road near me. Through the mist I thought I saw movement and then it was unmistakable – a small part of Huns were rushing the bridge. I waited until they had just set foot on the bridge and then pressed down the handle of the exploder for all I was worth. Up went the bridge with a terrific crash and it was quite some minutes before the pieces stopped falling.’⁶

The bridge was blown at 8.00am, the explosion had cut the girders in the centre but the ends remained on the abutments and the hanging ends rested on the lock walls. Clearly infantry would still be able to cross but Robert Petschler and his men had done their job and were heading towards Verlaines to rejoin their field company:

‘Taking cover behind the railway wagons I ran down the road for all I was worth and did not stop until I had covered a fair distance and found a corner in the road where I was sheltered from fire; the men who had been with me had bicycles and soon got away. I continued to walk rapidly until I reached Verlaines where I caught up with columns on the move and saw our infantry extending in open order to make a fresh stand.’⁷

Barely an hour later Brigadier General Duncan apparently received a telegram from Gough ordering him to counter-attack the bridge immediately! Quite how Gough knew that enemy infantry were still able to use the bridge is not mentioned by Duncan, but as he later recalled:

‘Quite by chance I found one or two (I cannot remember how many) of the 61st Division behind a wall quite close by to me. I got hold of the senior officer amongst them and wrote out some orders for the counter-attack, lent them my brigade major and sent them off to Ham Bridge. They were able to hold the Germans for some time, but had to fall back and I collected them in the afternoon. I gathered from the German officer afterwards, whom we had taken prisoner, that Ham Bridge had not been completely blown up by our engineers.’⁸

From Duncan’s account we can assume he remained on the south side of the canal for most of the morning as his rearguard kept the bridge free of German infantry traversing the damaged girders. Herbert Asquith and his guns were providing support from their position near Esmery-Hallon and using the church tower at the eastern end of the village as an observation post; a vantage point from which they were also able to observe Duncan’s rearguard at the bridge, who, Asquith tells us, had to fall back in the face of heavy machine-gun fire. C/149 Battery were firing on crossroads and road junctions in an attempt to delay the German onslaught, moving the next morning only after the enemy advance from Golancourt threatened their positions.

Meanwhile, as soon as the Germans entered Ham the 89 Brigade battalions began withdrawing towards Eppeville on the southern bank of the Somme Canal. At Eppeville the 11th Battalion South Lancashire Regiment (11/South Lancs) had been in position since late on 22 March with orders to cover the retirement. Lieutenant Colonel Herbert Fenn had been in command of the battalion since May 1916 and as pioneers, they had dug their way along much of the British sector of the Western Front, moving with the 30th Division to the Fifth Army Front in January 1918. Trench warfare at least had some order to it – unlike the situation they now found themselves in where circumstances changed almost as rapidly as the wind. Fenn’s frustration is expressed in the war diary: ‘I had received no orders of any kind and did not know what was happening on either flank or even if it was intended to hold the line of the canal.’

Remaining in position, Fenn heard the explosion signifying Petschler’s bridge had been blown, an event which was followed by a large number of units retiring down the Ham-Eppeville road towards the line of the Canal du Nord. With them was a staff car carrying, amongst others, Lieutenant Colonel John Haskard, the senior staff officer from the 20th Division. An indication as to the level of confusion that existed that morning is contained in the movements of 11/South Lancs after Haskard was questioned by Fenn as to what was happening on his front. Haskard was of the opinion that the line of the Somme Canal was to be held by the 30th Division prompting Fenn to begin moving the battalion towards Canizy, a move that was halted by further information from the 19/King’s indicating the Germans had crossed the canal – presumably this referred to the canal at Ham – and were advancing in the direction of Eppeville. Accordingly Fenn moved two companies back to the line of the railway embankment. On his left were some of the 19/King’s and part of 23/Entrenching Battalion which was holding a section of the railway line towards Canizy. He had no idea who was on his right, if indeed anyone was:

‘About 10.00am I received information that the enemy appeared to be massing on the north side of the canal and then until about 12.20pm there was a considerable number of the enemy moving about in the wood [on the north bank of the canal] and fairly heavy rifle fire. The enemy appeared to have intended to attack but did not succeed in reaching our line.’⁹

Shortly before 2.00pm Fenn received word that his right company on the railway embankment was in danger of encirclement, enemy infantry were now on the outskirts of Eppeville and there was little choice but to fall back south of the railway. That evening Fenn failed to get in touch with his right flank. A sucrerie, which was supposed to be in British hands, was occupied by the enemy and there was no sign of 23/Entrenching Battalion, that is until 7.00am the next morning, when Fenn observed them retiring towards Canizy. For the South Lancs, however, time was running out and German infantry were closing in rapidly:

‘The two companies holding [the ground south of the railway line] were almost entirely surrounded; their only line of withdrawal was across a stream which was lined with barbed wire. Owing to the magnificent way in which Lewis gunners remained firing at the enemy until they were either killed or wounded, parts of the two companies withdrew and fought a rearguard action, across the canal near Moyencourt.’¹⁰

The stream – the River Allemagne – was a rather small but steep-sided waterway and the scene of a rather magnificent action that led to the award of the Victoria Cross to Corporal John ‘Jack’ Davies, a Lancashire lad who had joined the 11/South Lancashire Regiment on the outbreak of war in 1914. Originally dubbed the St Helens Pals, his battalion had crossed to France in November 1915 as part of Kitchener’s New Army which seven months later would find itself embroiled in the 1916 Battle of the Somme. Davies was wounded twice during the Somme battles returning to duty after each period of recovery and recuperation. Needless to say by March 1918, after more than two years in uniform, the 22-year-old Jack Davies had been hardened to the horrors of war and the loss of his comrades. As a Lewis gunner his role was to provide covering and supportive fire, a role that in March 1918 when the confines of trench warfare burst forth into the mobility of open warfare, had become all the more vital.

As his comrades moved to cross the stream, Davies began to put down a heavy fire from his Lewis gun with deadly effect to delay the German advance. Writing to Davies’ mother in April 1918 and unsure as to the fate of the young corporal, Herbert Fenn described what he knew of the final action:

‘He was last seen kneeling on the trench parapet in order to get a better view of the enemy, and kept firing his gun until the enemy were so close on him that he could not get away. By his very gallant conduct he no doubt saved the lives of many of his comrades … I need hardly say how proud all officers and men were to have such a gallant NCO in their battalion … very few, if any, would have been able to get away alive had not your son held up the enemy with his Lewis gun.’¹¹

Davies was fortunate in that he was captured alive after wreaking such havoc on the enemy but he would have been well aware his decision to remain behind had placed his life in jeopardy if he was lucky enough to survive. What marks this action above many others is the clear sense of duty that this young man possessed: when asked after the war to describe his role in the fight at Eppeville, Davies simply replied, ‘that’s what I was there for’.

* * *

As the British units fell back from the Green Line towards the Somme the 1st Cavalry Division was directed north of the confluence of the Canal du Nord with the Canal de la Somme in order to fill the gap between XIX Corps and Maxse’s XVIII Corps and hold the bridges at Béthencourt and Pargny until relieved by the 8th Division. After crossing the Somme at St Christ Briost 2 Cavalry Brigade was dispatched to Béthencourt – where it was in touch with units of the 20th Division – and 9 Cavalry Brigade was ordered to cover the double bridgehead at Pargny and Falvy where another Victoria Cross would be won on the night of 23 March.

There were five bridges numbered 61–65 along the causeway that crossed the Somme marshes between Pargny and Falvy, Number 61 spanned the canal at Pargny while the other four crossed branches of the river towards Falvy. The five bridges had been prepared for demolition by 1/Siege Company whose sappers were on hand at each location. Early on 23 March units of the 24th and 50th Divisions began their retirement on Falvy, to support their crossing were the 8th Hussars who crossed the river at Pargny and moved north towards the crest of the high ground above the village of Falvy where they were joined by the 1st Battalion Worcestershire Regiment (1/Worcesters), under the command of 26-year-old Lieutenant Colonel Frank ‘Cully’ Roberts. Roberts crossed the river and deployed his men to the east of the village from which point they could see the retiring troops falling back towards them with the advancing German units of IR 52 some way behind. They soon came under a heavy fire from the forward machine-gun teams of IR 52 as they closed in on the rearguards of the retiring troops, but Roberts held his ground until the last moment and then pulled slowly back towards the bridge.

Meanwhile 8/Hussars had been ordered to join 19/Hussars in a chalk quarry close to Falvy Copse to the north of the village and wait for the opportunity to counter-attack. No sooner were the Hussars across the river when they were met by a pandemonium of thirty stampeding horses of 19/Hussars, which,when combined with enemy shellfire, quickly turned the intended counter-attack into a retreat – particularly as both regiments were also under fire from enemy machine guns – all of which prompted a sharp return to Falvy bridge.

Initially the forward companies of IR 52 thought the Worcesters were about to make a stand on the high ground above Falvy, noting with some alarm that they even advanced against the right flank of the regiment. ‘Nevertheless the heights east of Falvy were taken by about 3.00pm and the Somme crossings lay under our fire. But the English tenaciously defended the villages and the bridges themselves.’¹² There may very well have been a determined defence of the bridge at Falvy but according to Lieutenant Thomas Evans-Lombe, the retirement back over the bridge was far from straightforward:

‘The village and bridge were being heavily shelled. In order to cover the retirement of the remainder of the regiment, one squadron was sent across the river to Pargny. When the remainder tried to follow the bridge had been blown up by German shellfire. The horses were consequently sent across at St Christ. On their way they were met by a party of the 19th who reported that the bridge at St Christ had also been blown up. Attempts were made to repair the bridge at Falvy with material found in the village and also to swim the horses over. The bank was so boggy that the horses stuck the moment they got into the stream and swimming had to be abandoned.’¹³

By this time a heavy fire from the IR 52 machine gunners was targeting the village making it impossible to make any repairs on the bridge. Evans-Lombe was standing on the bridge as planks were being put in place over the gap. ‘No horses were got across,’ he lamented, ‘and it was decided to get the men across and abandon the horses.’ For the cavalrymen this must have been a heartrending process as they retired dismounted to the eastern edge of Pargny. With the Germans now practically in the village and the infantry falling back along the causeway, bridges Number 63 and 64 were blown at 2.30pm, leaving only the canal bridge intact. On the bridge Sergeant George Crossley was in a quandary, with no orders to blow the bridge and no communication from the 24th Division, he bravely took it upon himself to detonate the charges. As Reginald Buckland wrote in his account of the incident, ‘for some reason, possibly because the charges had been loosened by the previous explosions, [from bridges 63 and 64] the demolition was not successful’. At which point Lieutenant George Baylay from the 1/Field Squadron RE stepped forward to finish the job:

‘Lieutenant Baylay, seeing that the canal bridge had only been partially destroyed, sent for more explosives, and with Corporal [Selwyn] Regester and six of his sappers laid fresh charges under heavy machine gun fire and set them off. Accompanied by his corporal, he went forward to see the result, which was satisfactory, but on his way back he was unfortunately killed by a machine gun bullet.’¹⁴

As dusk closed in that evening the situation was precarious to say the least. Constant sniping and intermittent machine-gun fire ensured little sleep was had by the men of 1/Worcesters who were now deployed along the western canal bank between Pargny and Epénancourt. At 8.00pm Frank Roberts visited all his posts along the canal, unaware that units of IR 52 had crossed the canal on the debris of the bridge and entered Pargny village, a situation Roberts only became aware of when he reached the village outskirts:

‘I found the post there very excited as they were being shot at from the houses in the north portion of Pargny, and had also seen Bosche in the village before dark. I was also told that all posts between them and the bridge had ceased to function (afterwards I found a number of men in them had been shot in the back and that the local defence south of the bridge had been broken through about dusk).’¹⁵

Realizing that 2/Rifle Brigade must have withdrawn from his right flank and that the canal line would soon be taken by the enemy, he immediately resolved to counter-attack, reasoning that, ‘unless the village could be taken back, we should be mopped up during the night, if the enemy continued to advance NW of the canal’.

Gathering together all his available force – some 45 NCOs and men – he led them to the crossroads on the south western edge of the village. The main attack would drive straight down the main street with two flanking parties on either side to mop up any stragglers. It was a straightforward plan and its boldness relied very much on the element of surprise. At 9.00pm he gave the order to attack:

‘For the first 100 yards or so we went in two parties in single file on each side of the main road at a walk and as quietly as possible. The first intimation that I had of the Bosche was some shouting from houses we were passing, and then both machine gun and rifle fire (very wild) from windows and doors, with small parties of the enemy dashing into the streets and clearing off in the direction of the bridge. Once this started we all went hell for leather up the street firing at anything we saw and using the bayonet in many cases. From beginning to end every man screamed and cheered as hard as he bloody well could and by the time we reached the church the village was in uproar and Bosche legging it hard to the bridge or else chucking his hands up (we only took very few prisoners as I’d told our men to kill so as to prevent the brutes … coming up in our rear). In the churchyard itself the hardest fighting took place, tombstones being used as if in a game of hide and seek. Here, after clearing it, we had a few minutes rest and then went smack through to the bridge where a mass of Bosche were trying to scramble across, some did and some didn’t.’¹⁶

The attack was an outstanding success with Roberts and his men retaking the village, capturing six machine guns and taking about 15–20 prisoners. The announcement of the award of the Victoria Cross to Frank Roberts appeared in the London Gazette in May 1918. As for the battalion on the right referred to by Roberts, it had indeed withdrawn but, according to the Rifle Brigade historian, withdrew only after the enemy had succeeded in crossing the canal and working round both flanks. Its retirement to a sunken road east of Morchain apparently took place a little after midnight on 25 March, four hours after Roberts stated his right flank had been abandoned.

Further south along the canal line, German infantry were making repeated attempts to cross the canal early on 24 March. At Offoy, despite the thick fog, 12/Rifle Brigade was able to frustrate any attacks with their rifle and machine-gun fire until that evening when they were forced to withdraw to Quiquery. At Béthencourt German infantry had more success against the defences held by 11/Rifle Brigade and enough of them were on the western bank of the canal by 8.00am to consolidate a bridgehead. An hour later Béthencourt was reported in enemy hands despite the efforts of 2/East Lancashire and C Company, 11/Rifle Brigade, which, although ‘hopelessly outnumbered’ counter-attacked; an attack – the regimental historian tells us – from which ‘the majority failed to return’.

Three miles north of Pargny at St Christ Briost were a collection of wooden pile bridges that had been erected in 1917 after the retreating Germans demolished the road bridge. These were destroyed at 11.00am on 23 March with gunpowder and petrol but the main road bridge that crossed the canal and two branches of the river was of a far more substantial construction. Recently completed by American engineers, the bridge was one that had been constructed using steel girders and was designed to carry tanks. Lieutenant Eric Jacobs-Larkcom from 15/Field Company was detailed to carry out the demolition with his section of sappers:

‘I proceeded to the site of the bridge and obtained a covering party from the infantry unit holding that sector. The Germans had not attempted to cross the bridge, but the roadway was under accurate fire from machine gun positions on the far bank. A reconnaissance of the bridge showed it consisted of two heavy steel girders supporting the roadway. I judged that the available explosive would not make a thorough job of both girders – so decided that most damage would be done by concentrating all the explosive on one girder. The charge was laid and the leads brought back to an exploder … The explosion brought down a hail of machine gun fire on the approaches to the bridge, but we managed, by waiting our opportunity and using whatever cover there was, to withdraw the firing party without casualties. Unfortunately the charge was insufficient to bring down the whole girder although the bridge had been considerably weakened, it was, however, the best we could do.’¹⁷

Covering the bridge was C Company of the 2nd Battalion Devonshire Regiment (2/Devons) who successfully beat off all attempts by the Germans to cross the bridge, each attempt being repelled by Second Lieutenant William Maunder and the counter-attack platoon. Continually under attack from across the canal, William Maunder, a former warrant officer who had fought with the battalion since landing in France in August 1914, repeatedly led his men forward in response to German attempts to gain a foothold on the west bank:

‘Three times the enemy came on, and only after most severe fighting were they held at bay. One strong party of Germans waded across just above the bridge and tried to outflank its defenders. Once again Second Lieutenant Maunder’s platoon met them, charging across the road and up an embankment beyond and got well into them with the bayonet. Second Lieutenant [James] Huntingford and another platoon supported him, and between them they drove off the attackers … nearly 20 prisoners were taken.’¹⁸

Already the holder of the Military Medal, Maunder’s award of the Military Cross was announced in the London Gazette in July 1918.

The 2/Devons were holding the canal line from St Christ Briost to a point just north of Happlincourt Château, their left flank platoon being in sight of the road bridge at Brie. On the night of 24 March 2/Middlesex relieved the West Yorkshires in the defences of the Brie and Eterpigny bridges. Lieutenant Colonel Charles Page established his battalion headquarters in an old trench some 700 yards east of Villers-Carbonnel a little to the north of the road to Brie. A regular officer, Charles Page was gazetted into the Middlesex Regiment in 1901 and almost immediately found himself fighting in South Africa with his battalion. At the outbreak of war in 1914 he was a 34-year-old captain with little prospect of advancement much before 1919 – all of which changed in May 1916 after his promotion to major and his award of the Military Cross. In October 1917 he was appointed second-in-command of 2/Middlesex and two months later was in command of the battalion. Page was another individual who excelled when facing huge odds, never losing his grip on command, his poise and composure under fire proving inspirational to the officers and men in the battalion. His orders to the battalion as they deployed along the Somme were quite simple: hold on at all costs and do not retire until ordered.

The first attack by the German 208th Division came at 7.00am on 25 March. Captain Maurice Toye commanding C Company had positioned one of his four platoons on the bridge at Eterpigny, a post that quickly became the focus of the German attack. Twice they were driven off the bridge and twice they counter-attacked to regain possession, the last message indicating they were practically surrounded. Half-an-hour later a patrol sent along the canal also vanished without trace leaving Toye – a former boy bugler who enlisted in the RE in 1912 – with only one conclusion: the Germans had crossed the river and canal in some force. He didn’t have to wait long before the whole company came under a heavy assault from both north and south of the bridge, an attack which forced 7/DLI in Eterpigny village to retire – the Middlesex war diary noting with some distain that they did so ‘without fighting at all’.

The DLI’s retirement had exposed C Company’s left flank to the extent that Toye and his men soon found themselves surrounded, but mindful of Page’s orders to hold on at all costs they did exactly that – but at a terrible cost. Second Lieutenant Francis Mahany who was stranded in the village attempted to reach Toye with his platoon, fighting his way through ‘at the cost of all but three of his men’. Eventually Toye and Mahany together with the six remaining men of the company forced their way through from the village onto the Villers-Carbonnel road. Here, finding some seventy men of 7/DLI, Maurice Toye formed them up with his own men and counter-attacked back across the road towards the village. Once again the element of surprise caught the enemy unawares and Toye was able to hold onto his newly won position until relieved by the 2/West Yorkshires. This desperate action undoubtedly temporarily held up any advance west but could not prevent Brie from coming under attack by the German 19th Division.

With the Eterpigny bridgehead now in enemy hands German infantry quickly moved down the west bank of the canal towards Brie where two companies of the Middlesex were defending the crossing. Possibly the last unit to cross the river ahead of the enemy was Q Battery, RHA. Signaller Herbert Quick was with the guns as they arrived on the eastern bank of the canal at the Brie road bridge:

‘I hold that [Q Battery] were the last battery to cross the Somme at Brie in our retreat; further I think Gunner Fisher and myself can claim to be the last British troops to cross the bridge at the same time …The enemy were advancing very fast, as they hadn’t many men holding them; our troops kept coming back in twos and threes and when I thought the last few had crossed the bridge and the enemy were getting very near, I reported to HQ , but could get no answer. When I could discern the uniform of the Bosch, and machine gun bullets began to fly around, I decided to retire.’¹⁹

It wasn’t long before heavy fighting enveloped the Middlesex positions. The left post of B Company was the first to be overwhelmed and a platoon from A Company sent to support them suffered the same fate. Private Frederick Curtis thought ‘the earth was turned into hell’, as the company came under fire from German gunners on the far side of the river:

‘After four or five long hours had passed away our position became very hot, because not only were we under shells and rifle fire, but a big warehouse that was about 20 yards away from the end of our trench was set alight by the German gunners. Besides this we had to cope with a German aeroplane that kept flying over our trench and firing a machine gun onto us.’²⁰

Curtis was serving in the Lewis gun section at Brie and was one of the more fortunate who were lucky enough to survive to fight another day. From all accounts it was a desperate defence:

‘Only the right platoon of B Company and the last support platoon of D company got away. The other six platoons of these two companies perished at their post … The right platoon of B Company was in the bridge defences with two Lewis gun sections. They fought under Second Lieutenant W J Martin there for one and a half hours. Captain [Hugh] Wegg then posted them on the Amiens road near his company headquarters overlooking the bridge. When the rest of the company was destroyed Second Lieutenant Martin fell back upon A Company at Happlincourt and withdrew through the outskirts of Villers-Carbonnel with the left of the 2/ Devon Regiment.’²¹

At battalion headquarters news of the attacks reached Charles Page at 9.00am. On being told of the demise of C Company and the close-quarters fighting at Brie, he realised it would be only a matter of time before his headquarters would be under siege. His position was hardly a good one, the Roman Road from Brie to Villers-Carbonnel rises from the river valley at the Pont les Brie spur before it continues west towards Villers-Bretonneux and Amiens. The first solid evidence that German infantry had taken Eterpigny arrived in the form of Second Lieutenant Cawdron who confirmed the village was lost: the second came shortly afterwards as German machine-gun teams appeared on the ridge, prompting Major Charles Drew to counter-attack with a party of twenty-six cooks, signallers and runners. Drew’s men drove the gunners back from the ridge and into the valley, beating off a further enemy attack in the early afternoon and holding on to their position for four hours before retiring.

In the meantime Charles Page had sent Lieutenant Ernest Frayne on to the ridge to protect Drew’s right flank but Frayne and his men never arrived; after walking into a German machine-gun team they were nearly all killed or wounded, Frayne himself being wounded and taken prisoner only to die from his wounds in captivity. The only man to return after escaping his captors was Sergeant W Fox. The last news Page received from B Company at Brie was at 4.15pm in the form of a hastily-scribbled message from Second Lieutenant Alexander Liversedge. Even as the young subaltern wrote the message he was watching the long lines of enemy troops descending into the river valley opposite and he and his remaining men must have realised there was little chance of any reinforcements and they had but a short time left:

‘My left is about 200 yards to the left of the Brie road. Several lines of the enemy can be seen coming down the slope of ridge opposite and to the left of our front. Reinforcements and ammunition urgently required.’²²

‘Fred’ Liversedge was 23 years old when he was killed on the banks of the Somme Canal, a former telegraphic clerk from Paddington he enlisted into the London Regiment in 1914 arriving on the Western Front in March 1915. His service record indicates he was promoted to acting corporal and transferred to the Royal Sussex Regiment before being recommended for a commission. A similar message was received from Second Lieutenant George Ball who appeared to be the only remaining officer in B Company still on his feet: ‘Enemy preparing to attack again, both from left flank and direct front. Reinforcements required.’ Ball signed himself the ‘Officer Commanding B Company’. Like Fred Liversedge, the 20-year-old George Ball died on the canal with his men, he too was a former NCO who had been commissioned in 1917 and is one of only two Middlesex officers killed on 25 March who have a CWGC headstone. He and Captain Roy Launceston can be found at Assevillers New British Cemetery near Péronne along with sixteen of the battalion’s NCOs and men.

Page’s men at battalion headquarters now prepared to sell their lives dearly. Reinforced by two Vickers machine guns the headquarters party kept the enemy at bay for nearly two hours before German gunners subjected them to an intense barrage. At 6.45pm a runner arrived from 23 Brigade ordering the battalion to withdraw. For the three companies on the canal the order was too late, six platoons from B and D Company had already fallen at their posts or had been taken prisoner and one platoon from A Company had vanished without trace. The remaining men from C Company with Captain Maurice Toye were still fighting with the West Yorkshires near Eterpigny. The battalion had been all but destroyed.

At 7.00pm German infantry had approached unseen to within 450 yards of battalion headquarters. Page quickly began his retirement, sending parties of men off in batches while he and a small party of men maintained a rapid rifle and machine-gun fire covering the movement of men towards Estrees. In the closing moments of the retirement Charles Page dispatched the last two men and, after a final volley from the rifle he had been using for the past hour, left the trench. Three minutes later the first Germans arrived.

The Middlesex had lost heavily, the war diary recording 12 officers and over 300 other ranks killed, wounded or missing. From 7.00am when the bridge at Eterpigny was rushed, to 7.25pm when Charles Page successfully withdrew the remnants of battalion headquarters, the Middlesex had fought against odds of at least five to one. In all, eleven platoons had been lost to enemy action leaving fewer than 160 men to be reorganized into four composite companies, each barely larger than a full strength platoon. Such gallantry and sacrifice cannot go without recognition and the award of the Victoria Cross to Maurice Toye – who had managed to escape from Eterpigny intact – was announced in the London Gazette in May 1918. Although his citation refers to ‘two further occasions’ when he demonstrated his gallantry under fire, the action at Eterpigny was the most outstanding:

‘When the enemy had captured the trench, at a bridgehead, he three times re-established the post during the 25th March 1918. The position was later taken by the enemy after new attacks. When three of his posts had been captured, Captain Toye, another officer and six men fought their way through the enemy. He then collected 70 men of the Battalion, who had been retiring, and took up a position which was maintained until reinforcements arrived. Without this action, the defence of the bridge would certainly have failed.’²³

Charles Page’s leadership was recognised with the award of the DSO which cited his ‘conspicuous gallantry and devotion to duty during many days of intense fighting, in which by his high standard of military leadership, he kept his battalion together under the most difficult circumstances’. What the citation neglected to mention was the 200 rounds of rifle ammunition the commanding officer had fired at the enemy whilst covering the retirement of his men. As the war diary concluded, ‘thank God all ranks did their duty’.

A little further to the north at Barleux 5/DLI were told to ‘hang on to the death’. Major Alwyn Raimes, in questioning the wisdom of this instruction, was told again to remain in position and to stay and fight it out. They could see German troops at Villers-Carbonnel moving past their right flank without any apparent opposition and as Raimes said afterwards, ‘the only conclusion we could come to was that we were to be sacrificed to cover the retirement’. Later in the evening as the other units to their left and right withdrew, all attempts to contact brigade headquarters failed, it was obvious to all they had already packed up and left! Slowly it dawned upon the DLI that orders for them to retire had perhaps not reached them, it was only the discovery of a platoon of Northumberland Fusiliers who had been instructed to cover the Durhams’ retirement that Raimes realised his suspicions had foundation:

‘As can be imagined, no time was wasted, and it was not long before the Battalion was moving in single file, as quickly and quietly as possible down the sunken road skirting Barleux. It was an awesome business. There was a bright moon, so the Germans had a good chance of discovering that our line was being withdrawn, and of closing up and cutting off our retreat. It is extraordinary what a noise three or four hundred men make on a still night, however hard they are trying to move quietly…. We got away without a shot having being fired at us, and eventually reached the new line established in front of Estrées and Assevillers.’²⁴

But there was no rest to be had; almost as soon as the DLI arrived they were again withdrawing. This time their destination was Rosières.

During the afternoon of 23 March Douglas Haig finally visited Gough’s Headquarters at Villers-Brettoneux and perhaps for the first time began to develop some idea of the seriousness of the situation facing the Fifth Army, although, it must be said that his diary entry for that day still betrayed a failure to grasp the extent and intensity of the German advance. Less than twenty-four hours later his apparent complacency was shaken to the core after a meeting with General Pétain at Dury where it emerged that – despite the earlier agreement to mutually support each other in the event of a German attack – the two men now had very different priorities:

‘I explained my plans and asked him to concentrate as large a force as possible about Amiens astride the Somme to cooperate on my right. He said he expected every moment to be attacked in Champagne, and did not believe the main German blow had yet been delivered. He said he would give Fayolle [General Marie Émile Fayolle, commanding the French Army reserves] all his available troops. He also told me he had seen the latter today at Montdidier, where the French reserves were now collecting, and had directed him in the event of the German advance being pressed still further, to fall back south-westwards to Beauvais in order to cover Paris.’²⁵

Although Haig’s diary implies that this came as a complete surprise which he immediately interpreted as a separation of the French from the British right flank, there is evidence to suggest that Pétain was left with the impression that the BEF would break with the French left flank and retire to the Channel ports and not the other way round. Tim Travers writes that Pétain underlined the vital necessity of the two Allied armies remaining together; pointing out that the French Army had all of France to fall back on whereas the BEF would not be so well-situated if they retreated northwest to the Channel ports. In his diary Haig confirms that the conversation with Pétain at Dury touched on the consequences of a separation of the two armies:

‘I at once asked Pétain if he meant to abandon my right flank. He nodded assent, and added, “It is the only thing possible, if the enemy compel the Allies to fall back still further” … In my opinion, our army’s existence in France depends on keeping the British and French Armies united.’²⁶

Here again there may well have been a cloud of misinterpretation. Pétain apparently meant that if BEF did begin to fall back towards the Channel ports then it may be necessary for the French reserves at Montdidier to fall back towards Paris. Certainly the balance of evidence strongly suggests that Haig had considered the worst possible scenario which included the possibility of retiring to the Channel ports – in effect abandoning the Fifth Army – and it was this scenario that was uppermost in his mind at Dury.²⁷ Haig’s diary tells us that he hurried back to Beaurepaire to instruct Lawrence to telegraph the Chief of the Imperial General Staff (CIGS) and Secretary of State for War to report the serious change in French strategy and ask them to come to France immediately. Again there is an aura of uncertainty as to whether the telegram was actually sent or indeed what version of events was relayed to England, but whatever interpretation we choose to place on the meeting between the two commanders-in-chief, it marked the beginning of the rise to prominence of Ferdinand Foch.²⁸

Both the Secretary of State, Lord Alfred Milner, and the CIGS, Henry Wilson, were strong advocates of Foch as overall supreme allied commander, a notion that Haig was persuaded to support in the light of Pétain’s announcement and the prospect of what he saw as a disintegration of the BEF and the Western Front. At the Doullens Conference on 26 March a Franco-British agreement gave Foch overall command of Allied forces along the entire Western Front. It had taken a crisis but political will had finally triumphed and the Alliance now had a supreme commander who ‘was without the dual responsibility for a particular national army’.²⁹

It was not going to be an easy task. Already von Winckler’s XXV Reserve Corps had crossed the Somme at Béthencourt and Pargny and driven a wedge between Watts and Maxse, opening up a gap of over a mile and like it or not, Watts’ XIX Corps was being prised away from the line of the Somme. The 8th Division had been forced to give up Eterpigny and Brie and was now falling back on Estrées along with the remaining XIX Corps divisions. Further south a very weak and threadbare 61 Brigade was covering another one-and-a-half miles of front and although Péronne had fallen, Watts was still clinging to the south bank of the Somme as it meandered its way west towards Cerisy. The news further north from Tudor’s 9th Division was no less encouraging, the South African Brigade had fought to the last round at Marières Wood and Byng’s VI and V Corps – which had only regained touch with the Fifth Army on 25 March – had been pushed back onto the desolate 1916 Somme battlefields. What worried Gough was that the right flank of the Third Army was now over four miles behind the left of the Fifth Army.

Gough had little choice but to counter-attack in an attempt to regain the line of the Somme about Pargny. The plan involved the British 8th and 24th Divisions attacking simultaneously at 8.00am on the morning of 25 March along with the French 122nd Division under General Félix Robillot. It was an unmitigated disaster. British troops who were in the process of forming up in their jumping off positions came under heavy fire from ground they presumed was held by the French – Robillot had neglected to inform Maxse and Heneker of his request for a postponement of the attack! Caught again by the strength of the German assault the French infantry were driven back, forcing Maxse to conform and Watts to order a similar retirement late that afternoon – it was this order that Charles Page received at Villers-Carbonel instructing him to withdraw his battalion.

25 March was also significant in that Sir William Congreve’s VII Corps Headquarters and all troops north of the Somme were transferred to the Third Army and VII Corps troops south of the Somme were transferred to XIX Corps. Interestingly at 3.00am on 25 March the Fifth Army passed from the overall command of the British to General Marie-Émile Fayolle and the boundary between the French and British Armies was realigned along the Somme. This did not mean Gough was no longer in command but he was now under the orders of the French.

Gough’s first encounter with Marshal Foch after the Doullens Conference was not a happy one. Accompanied by General Weygand, Foch arrived at Gough’s headquarters at Dury in a bombastic frame of mind:

‘He began at once by asking “why I was at my Headquarters and not with my troops in the fighting line?” He then said, “why could I not fight as we had fought in the first battle of Ypres in 1914?” “Why did the Army retire?” “What were my orders to the Army?” He waited for no replies to any of these questions, and he did not expect one, except possibly the last’.³⁰

Gough’s indignation at this verbal assault on his command is well documented; he had not been invited or indeed informed of the Doullens Conference and found Foch ‘excitable and evidently apt to jump to conclusions’. However, having been given overall command, Foch made it clear that there should be no further retreat and British and French troops must remain in touch to cover Amiens. It now remained to see whether he could stem the German advance and provide the unity of strength and purpose that was so desperately needed.