Diary transcript of Reginald Harriman Heywood, 1917 -1918 - Part 8

70

Was pleased to run into Jimmy who is acting D.A.D.V.S.

during Bill's absence on leave - three months to the day since

his last. Little Mac (G.S. McDowell) gave his knee a nasty

wrench and went off per ambulance. Looks like Blighty to me.

Lunched with the Divvy Sig. Officers and then walked home

with Arthur collecting several souvenirs by the way.

30.12.17. By the courtesy of Arthur Waring and Major Fraser (O.C.

Divl. Sigs) had a most interesting motor ride all over the Somme

battlefields, thro' Manancourt, Le Transloy, Bapaume, Thilloy,

Warlencourt, Le Sars, Educourt, L'Abbaye and Courcelette. We

travelled in all some 40 or 50 miles and didn't see a house

standing, nothing but shell holes, blasted trees and the debris

and after math of battle. Not a civilian or a living stick -

such is our civilization. Le Transloy a mass of ruins was

where the guards collected the bets. Then there is Bapaume -

the cruellest sight of the war to-date. It has been a beautiful

town and has all been blown up from the inside. Every building

from the cottages to the town hall has been ruined or bombed from

within. The town hall is that flat I couldn't see it for snow.

It didn't go to the pack for a couple of days and by that time

contained the A.C.F. personnel and stock in trade.

Of Pozieres, Coutal, Maison and all the other villages there

is nothing left, but Le Sars wins. It's just a flattened out heap

of rubbish without a chimney or even a wall standing - there are

about half a dozen sticks by some mischance still upright but

that's all. That's our artillery at Courcelette, there are still

the remains of the famous sugar works that the original tanks

nosed their way thro'. The poor old tanks are still lying

beside their victim.

Further on between Le Sars and Bapaume is the remains of the

Fritz ammunition train that was got by one of our 12 in. naval

guns at Albert, over 10 miles away. Scrap heaps aren't in it.

The famous Butte de Warlencourt is close at hand with its crosses

on and around it in memory of the Scotties who died there in

hundreds.

There are plenty of crosses marked A.I.F. round about too,

especially around Le Sars where the 20th Battn. must have caught

it. More down and out tanks are lying round too, scarred and

battered but intact and their engines still in them, and what was

of perhaps more interest thousands and thousands of empty machine

gun cartridges. There are plenty of souv's about and inter alia

we salved a 5.9 shell case which I hope to make into a gong one

of these days.

We returned home along the main Bapaume-Peronne road, and

I/

71

I thought I knew something about deserts till I came along there.

There has been an avenue of trees along either side of the road

but there isn't a tree for miles and miles that hasnt been clipped

by shells - off short from the butt up - It's a pity some of the

wait-and-see crowd couldn't be shown round here. 

31.12.17. New Year's Eve - and gee, last year I saw 1917 in a

Sorrento-Vic in a civilized climate.

I wonder if next year will be a happier one than this has

been; will all this waste of blood and life and property come to

an end. Will Fritz be forced down on his knees and then jumped

on good and hard or will old Wait-and-See and Co. crawl down and

patch something up. If we could see over the horizon or up to the

stars how interesting it would be. It would help us in many ways

but we'd hit bottom in other ways. I expect all hope would die in

many cases and all effort cease, and so we must follow the uncleane^red

track marked out for us.

If we knew we were going to romp in past the winning post of

our hopes we'd give up troubling about the first mile and a half,

and just the same if we knew we weren't going to get over the Stand

treble we'd never face the barrier. In fact its the uncertainty

about the game that is its whip and spurs. So what's the use.

Three bands of the brass species and the 14th pipe band in

various stages of inky poo played us over the border and we slid

along into 1918.

1.1.18. From now onward we no longer belong to 1st Anzac and henceforth

are part of the Australian Corps.

Sent out a patrol and found that the Brig. looked like

breakfasting in bed so we took the risk and remained in bed en bloc -

the poor old ding-bats bringing 4 breakfasts over.

The Bde. started the year well by bringing down a Fritz

'plane. He was doing a spinning nose dive to fool the Archies and

coming down a bit lower than he intended one of our birds got him

from the ground with a Lewis gun. The Fritzes landed near Divvy

and the dopes let them burn the machine which was a new pattern and

on its first trip. The pipers inspired by their own barbarous

melodies and a copious ration of hop over continued to dispense

wild unholy and indifferently dignified sounds thro' out the 24 hours.

Another event was the appearance of another turkey at dinner.

Its origin may have been somewhat clouded in the veil of antiquity,

but it wasn't beef. Another relief was the standing by in impotent

and silent wrath of the gramophone - that was  becos' the Brig. was

dining out. That gramophone has a piece of shrapnel sticking out

of it that it gathered at Ploeg Street - I often wish it had died

of/

72

of wounds in spite of the way it has ground out its seven tunes

three times a day, breakfast lunch and dinner for the last

couple of months.

2.1.18. Paddled the hoof over to Allaines and incidentally saw the

remains of the Boch 'plane - accent on the remains. The only

grievance our birds had was that the Fritzes didn't come down

close enough for them to do the ratting.

The old man's name appeared in the Honours to-day, C.B.

He's now Brig. Gen. Brand C.M.G., C.B., D.S.O. and as happy as a

bird on a bough. A dog with a tin tail wouldn't win a selling

plate alongside the old man to-day.

3.1.18. Was this day issued with a sheep skin jerkin which smells

like a dinkum wool shed and is the handsomest scent that ever laid

the stink-pots of France in the shade. Per the Sigs car we

again journeyed thro' Bapaume, Pozieres, Le Sars &c. and this

time pushed on as far as Albert where the Virgin still hangs

perilously in her extraordinary position from the spire of the

cathedral. Albert is comparatively not so badly knocked about -

I suppose there is perhaps one house on three standing. The

Cathedral however is a sad sight, it must have been a very

beautiful building and I could spend hours gazing at the remains

of the mosaic work round about the front doors.

The French people say the War will end when the Virgin

falls but she looked deuced steady yesterday.

We had time on this occasion to look round the graves

and the several monuments erected in memory of the Australians

who fell in the battle of the Somme. What strikes one next to

their fearful numbers is their loneliness - 15,000 miles is a 

long way to the land they loved and those they fought for.

It was a treat to see a few civilians again - there are

several business places open again in Albert.

We returned via Fricourt, Delville Wood, Marmetz and

other places which will never be forgotten.

In spite of the intense cold it was a most interesting

and memorable trip.

The state of the ground around the Somme battlefields

beggars all description - how flesh and blood lived thro' it

is beyond the imagination. In places one could walk for miles

without being able to avoid walking in shell holes the whole

time - stepping out of one into another and there isn't a tree

or a stick left.

73

4.1.18. Seems to me the coldest day we've had and the Hg must

have been very near the dot. Anyway a 2 gallon tier of water

froze solid in the room - mind you - to say nothing of the tooth

paste etc.

The sun was bright but with no ginger in it, and the scene

outside with the snow and the heavy frost on everything was

more like a fairy tale.

I've heard a lot of good Xmas stories but - as is often

the case - I think Col. McSharry's wins. He says - with a view

to Xmas dinner a certain number of the A.I.F. was pursuing a

sheep with the business end of a rifle and bayonet, but had the

misfortune to be spotted by an imperial officer, whereupon the

said genius reversed his rifle and gave the unhappy quadruped a

cuff with the butt, remarking casually "I'll teach you to snap

at me you ---".

The old man has gone away to Camiers to a machine gun school.

5.1.18. A Boch came over last night and reminded us that there's a 

war on, but fortunately his eye was out.

Lunched with Jimmie over at Divvy and he tells me we left

our old hut at Reninghelst just in time as the following night

Fritz riddled it with a bomb on either side. Talking of bombs - 

to-day it was demonstrated to another Fritz that the gentle art

of killing people with bombs is but a transitory and considerably

overrated pastime, labouring under the liability of abrupt discontinuance 

without further notice.

He fell in flames over towards Peronne.

6.1.18. Sunday and a day of indifferent rest tho' we did have our

breakfast in bed. We hear the Brig. is not coming back to this

Brigade - unfortunately for us at least he is going to Corps.

Quite a budget of letters from home - about time too.

Arthur and I put in the day making hunting crops out of oak

from Albert Cathedral and souvenirs from shells &c. I wonder if

they'll ever get home. We also thrashed out the possibilities of

peace - how many times have we brought the war to a successful

conclusion in this hut?

Arthur reckons that a man that's been morbid all his d---

life will be quite jovial on the return trip.

A beautiful steady rain has set in which means that we'll 

have a thaw probably and untold mud and discomfort for a certainty.

74

7.1.18. The thaw is an active state of progress tho' the mud hasn't

got more than ankle deep up till now.

We are to move again toute-de-suite to where there is a war

on this time.

After a refrigerated nightmare in the train entraining at

Peronne we detrain at Bailleul and the Div. is to hold the line

somewhere about St. Eloi. The 12th Bde. is moving first - starting

tomorrow. What have I done to deserve this - another big

batch of home mails to-day.

Tweedie derives a considerable amount of amusement out of my

letter-writing habits. I haven't seen him write a letter since I

met him on Oct. 25th tho' he stoutly maintains that he sends a cable

every month or so.

Tonight he has a brain wave and has already written 3 p.cs.

which he has dated Dec. 1, being no mean strategist.

8.1.18. Sgt. Williams is back again for which many thanks - as I'm 

fairly fed up with sending on returns.

Talking about feeding, I've got an appetite which is a positive

drawback - what's the use of a gnawing pain that would be

worth £1 to anyone in a civilized country when all the extra ration

in sight is your Adam's apple.

Besides, we "follow the King", a long way behind, but keeping

him in sight you know. We use spirit only medicinally - but seem

to be always ill somehow or other.

The thaw of last night froze up again and with another 6 inches

of snow on top of it we'll have a hell of a job getting the transport

out of this hole.

Another Boch paid us a flying visit but a searchlight and A.A.

Batty. have made their appearance and Fritz was content with dropping

6 bombs after the toy train that the Yankees run along the Peronne-          

Cambrai Rd.    

9.1.18. More snow sleet and other unhappiness, and in spite of Mac's 

giving us careful instructions as to how a knee may be dislocated, we

have not quite mastered the correct turn and Blighty looks further

away than ever.

Waring and I have come to the conclusion that we are too old

to run fast enough to do anything more than get out of breath. We

have pondered over the advisability of introducing some contagions

tho' benign a disease. That has its drawbacks tho' and up till now

we are weighted down under the cumulative load of disastrous

contingencies.

75

To dump a mule I had to pay Corps a visit. As our Mobile has

gone on I wanted to find the nearest Tommy M.V.S. The A.D.V.S. wasn't

half a bad old bird, but he wouldn't let me forget he was a Tommy. About

48 round the girth, a mouth like a crack in the pavement and a name

that sounded like Pigass, isn't that a hell of a pedigree.

No wonder the War goes on - talk about comfy. and at a salary

they've never dreamed of before. Besides, there'll never be another

war. Still someone has got to sit on the top I s'pose.

I saw in the paper to-day where the temperature was down as far

as 40^oF. below freezing, in this district a few days back.

Tomorrow we pull out from here and go back to where there's a 

proper war on.   

10.1.18  After rising at four we hit the trail about 6 a.m. and marched

the 5 miles into Peronne. Some walk too, as well greased glass wouldn't
have been in it with the roads for slipperiness. The horses being
well clogged up tho' did remarkably well - far better than the men who 

were falling all over the place all the time.

Entrained and pushed off at 10 a.m. Fortunately the weather was

somewhat milder, and with the aid of a smoky primus we kept fairly well

thawed - travelling with Bde. Hqrs. and O.C. train isn't a bad notion.

We passed thro' Albert Arras, St.Pol and Hazebrouck and arrived at   

Bailleul at 10.30p.m. On the way from Peronne to Albert you pass thro'     

miles of the typical Somme battlefields.

On the whole the trip wasn't the half refrigerated nightmare we

had anticipated tho' it was a bit of a set back to step off the train 
into 12 or 15 inches of Franco-Belgian mud.   
Major Tovell and I managed to wangle a couch each in Bailleul, and

after a cup of coffee didn't take much rocking to sleep in spite of the
total absence of bedclothes. The rest of the poor beggars and the

transport had to pad the hoof out to the new camp.

11.1.18  After breakfast at the Officers' Club and a hurried look round

Bailleul, which is rather a nice town - tho' the recipient of beaucoup

bombs - Tovell and I clumb on a motor wagon and thence to Bde. Hqrs. at
La Clytte. Arrived at La Clytte promptly rejected my billet and

decided to camp in a hut with Tweedie and Sigs. Not a bad little hut

and with a good stove.

We are 7 or 8 miles from the line and in reserve the 12th Bde.

going in first with the 13th in support. From all accounts all the 

Camps are very good, and all the horses are in stables. There is a buzz

of something doing around here - and very different from down around

Cambrai /

76

Cambrai-tho' they say things are very quiet in the line.

Up till now everything is very nice and handy, and Jimmie

has got his mobile just around the corner. I'd be a little happier

further away from a main road tho'.

12.1.18.Imagined I felt very ill so stayed in bed all day - I could

see Blighty sticking outa yard.

Flatter myself, I have discovered the latest most scientific

and up-to-date method of carrying on the veterinary services - by

having a telephone from next the bed on to the wagon lines where Sgt

Williams is. For accuracy , despatch and the saving of valuable

time it would be hard to beat.

13.1.18  Awoke a complete cure - nothing ever seems to happen to me,

and I couldn't oscillate the Pb. longer than to remain in bed for

breakfast.

Began to take an intelligent interest in things again, and

walked down to Div. Hqrs. Bill and suite has just arrived after

being snowed up for a couple of days en route. Div.have got a very

good camp and ought to/be just about bomb proof.

I.O. Johnnie has been up to the line and says everything is

very quiet but from here you can see Reminghelst and Ypres so we are

in a warm corner.

I'm afraid its too quiet here for us - if we don't get

strafed soon I'm afraid we'll be moved.

By the way the latest furph: is Egypt next March for the

Aust. Corps.

14.1.18. Arose betimes and went for a ride on old Dick, that's the

first time I've been on him since the night we hit Peronne Dec. 6.

I think it was.

The thaw which was making things disgustingly muddy yesterday 

has frozen over again and with 6 ins. of snow on top it isn't

very pleasant riding, but the units are a bit scattered about.

Those unutterable pipers! if there's ever a Scottish turnout

in the district they always come just outside my dug out to

dispense their alleged music. Except perhaps the Bosch no one admires

the assault and battery methods of the Scot more than I do, but in

matters of symphony and resonance we do not hear ear to ear, and I

maintain that the next musical instrument in the outfit is the drum.

Do not think that I have no soul - I have. I can even rise to "Pack

up your troubles" or "When the ducks go by" on our sadly overworked

gramophone /

77

gramophone, and its not so much the technique that I object to, as

the restricted repertoire. To me the bag piper can only play one

noise - the lament of a man brought up on Scotch thistles and

whisky. Tried to wangle a trip to London but find Jimmie is going

on leave - about time too, McKenna and Seeley are trying to swing

it to Paris, so altogether things aren't too promising.

15.1.18. Found the 12th Bde. at last, who are camped at El Dom Camp

towards Vierstaat - pretty comfortable too with most of them in dugouts 

and all the horses in stables. They are in the line.

A steady and heavy rain has melted all the snow which it has

replaced with mud, and confirmed my already unmentionable impression

of Belgium. Jimmie dropped in and informed me that I am to keep an

eye on the Mobile from tomorrow as he is setting sail for Angleterre

and Bill is off to Calais for a few days. He returned from Blighty

on Wednesday last. The Brig. seems to have gone for keeps and Lt.

Col. McSharry is commanding the Bde. He is a welcome addition to

the mess which wears quite a jaunty air at meal times now. The old

man is a great soldier and all that sort of thing but he will

remember it at mess always.

Col. McSharry is the King of raconteurs. Talking of which

reminds me that Alex. Fraser has also left us for keeps, having

gone back to his battalion. Capt. Thomson also of Adelaide is now

Bde. Staff Capt.

16.1.18 Took over the reins from Jimmie - only for a few days tho' I

hope as Bill shouldn't be long down at Calais. It means I may have

plenty to do tho' with two Brigades and the M.V.S.

Still very wet and stormy, the only good point about it being

that is keeps the bombers at home. What a store they'll have saved

up tho'.

Some little time ago there was a thing called a Conscription

referandum, to which I said oui oui. As a matter of fact the thing

was turned down so it doesn't matter, but I think I did wrong. If

it weren't for the absolute wasters who will get in under the lap

I'd be sure I did wrong. What I mean is - we don't get a fair run.
If the tommies haven't got an armistice on they certainly leave

Fritz alone in the belief that he will leave them alone. Our

fellows go in, do their job and get strafed accordingly. We hadn't

been here 24 hours when one of our listening sets picked up the

following dispatch to Boch Hqrs.:- "Increased activity - believe

the Australians have taken over this/sector". And then again two

Boch trench mortars which has been in "No man's land" since father

fell off the 'buss were home and dried within a couple of hours of

our taking over.

Of/

78

Of course I'm only a looker-on but Cambrai opened my eyes.

I wouldn't say anything about Cambrai for fear of a G.C.M.

17.1.18. Yes, I agree with the poets and admit that this is a lovely

world, but tho' there's a place for everything not every place is

for everything. A fish on a dusty road is out of luck isn't it - 

yes, and a Murray Cod on the hearth-rug is just about equal to me

in Belgium. Were you ever in the softly falling snow? Its nice

in a picture and its all right to lie in bed on Sunday morning

with a volume of Southey or Shelley or whoever it was wrote that

rot and wish you were there, but Heaven help you if you get your

wish. I did, and have only myself and the Boch to blame.

Please excuse this but what I started out to say was that Bill

has bequeathed me also the 13th Bde. to look into and I had to 

ride up there this morn: in a blinding snow storm. Snow gets in

your pockets, down your neck, and in your eyes and ears, but its

surprising how warm it makes me. What the Hun hasn't done to

Belgium since 1914, I did on that ride this morn:

If anyone had asked me, would I go home, a poverty sticken

Scotchman in a strange land would have bet real money on what was

coming next.

Came home, tipped the snow out and sat over the fire, gloomy

as a man saying "No" to a drink - in a more or less successful

effort to that myself.

If anyone wants to know who's boss around here, just start

something.

18.1.18. What do your think of this? A Tommy - 2 Star Artist at that

sent his groom and 2 horses into the Mobile this morn: with a

polite little note addressed to the O.C. clipping station and

demanding that his horse should be clipped toute suite. Of course

I couldn't have that at any price and replied to the effect that

the O.C. had gone to Australia on leave and had taken the scissors

with him.

Stewart Claydon returned from leave to-day, full of his time

in Blighty and with a request that I will endeavour to get him

transferred to the A.F.C. Seems to me I'll be looking for a new

groom shortly. And say if I don't get across the pond shortly,

something's going to happen.

About the only times I get gloomy - I do often get gloomy - 

are when I talk to the tommies. Communing with them would give

anyone a 6 x 2 face. Somehow or other they seem to have lost their

punch. They've convinced me too that the only thing our boys

can do is to fight.

79

19.1.19.  A terrible thing happened to me to-day, encountering as
I did a thing called a horsemaster. I know why they made them

horsemasters - there's nothing else they could be, and a horse

is about the only thing in the army that couldn't argue with

them. Don't think I'm casting any reflection on the horse, I'm

not, but you must admit that a horse is dumb.

This particular one was one of those chesty little boys,

with ears buttoned down tight, and a dummy port-hole glued into

his South eye. Then there was his forehead, corrugated like a

wash board and an under-shot jaw like a terrier's, still he wasn't

to blame for his mud-coloured hair, or it wasn't on purpose that

he had his nose bent in, and it wasn't his fault he's getting the

screw he is. What a fearful thing for him it will be when the 

war ends which it is likely to do any year now.

When I arrived on the scene it was as tho' a brick which

he's been waiting for had just hit him, and he turned the 9.2s on

me properly. It appeared that someone had omitted to salute him,

and when I explained to him that when you're in the right you can

afford to keep your temper and when you're in the wrong you can't

afford to lose it, he just had to take his cap off and wipe away

the perspire. I couldn't help noticing his hair - they were few

but well trained. If one had got a thirty-second on an inch out

of place, a terrible thing would have happened to him.

He wasn't such a bad old bird tho', and to do without a

certain number of ornaments seems to run contrary to the disposition

of human nature.

Another event was the arrival of a 15 in. gun which fires

somewhere at the back of this camp and over our heads. I hope it 

removes itself before Fritz starts searching for it.

Our 'planes seem to be having a great innings - the sky was

black with them this morn: and they managed to set one of Fritz's

balloons loose. I'm afraid its the calm before the storm.

20.1.18. From now on I'm mess secretary, mess president and all the

rest combined. The Bde. have gone into the line and I have

moved and taken up my abode with the mobile. I occupy what Fritz

overlooked of a house and it isn't too bad in spite of the stone

floor and the redoubtable and versatile Darkie's efforts in the

cookery department.

It isn't exactly lively tho', being suddenly thrust on my

own - my very own at that and miles from anywhere. I wonder if

I could work my ticket on the old age plea?  to-day I rode 20 or

30 miles and it feels every inch of it. I.O. Johnnie and I went

thro' Kemmel Neuve Englise, and skirting the ridge, ex-town of

Messines /