Pegler - Attack on the Somme

First published in Great Britain in 2005 by
Pen & Sword Military
An imprint of
Pen & Sword Books Ltd
47 Church Street
Barnsley
South Yorkshire
S70 2AS

Copyright Martin Pegler, 2006

ISBN 1 84415 397 5
PRINT ISBN 9781844153978
EPUB ISBN 9781844683550
PRC ISBN 9781844683567

The right of Martin Pegler to be identified as Author of this work has been
asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act
1988.

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available from the British Library

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List of Illustrations and Maps

Illustrations

Maps

Authors Note

A subject as vast and complex as the Battle of the Somme cannot be covered in depth in a single volume. The author has therefore tried to give a broad outline to the background of the war, as well as a brief comparative look at the armies and equipment involved. The length of the Somme campaign precludes an exhaustive study of every action involved, so the main objectives throughout the course of the campaign have been covered. If as a result, certain units or locations have been omitted, I can only offer my apologies. The quotations used are from veterans, most of whom the author was privileged to interview twenty or more years ago. To them, their families and all others who helped, I would like to offer my sincere thanks.

The photographs have been selected to try to provide some different images to the ones normally found in books on the Somme. They come from several sources, many from Richard Dunnings extensive collection, others from the archives of the Imperial War Museum, Tank Museum at Bovington and the Royal Armouries Museum, Leeds. I am most grateful to them all. I also extend my thanks to Editions de la Martinire, the publishers of Jacques Moreaus evocative photographic record of the war, Nous Etions des Hommes, for their kind permission to use some of his images. The maps are contemporary and are from the Official History of the War.

Finally, a special thank you to my wife Katie, who once again gave up any attempt at having a social life while I was writing another book, and who patiently corrected my many typographical mistakes. Any remaining errors are mine.

Epigraph

To ex-Private Clarence (Clarrie) Jarman, 7th Queens Royal West Surrey Regiment, my surrogate grandfather. Despite a lifetime of suffering as a result of fighting for King and Country, he never bore a grudge and typified the spirit of his generation. Also to Richard Dunning, owner and protector of the Lochnagar crater at La Boisselle, whose deep appreciation of every aspect of the war and unselfish desire to share his knowledge with others to ensure we do not forget, are an object lesson to all of us.

Armistice Day 1986. Ex-Private Clarence Jarman, 7th Queens Regiment, aged eighty-eight.

Richard Dunning undertaking annual maintenance at Lochnagar crater, 2004.

Prologue

A German Machine-gunner at
Serre, 1 July 1916

The following extract is taken from Experiences of Baden Soldiers at the Front, Volume 1: Machine-guns in the Iron Cross Regiment (8th Baden Infantry Regiment No. 169), by Otto Lais:

Theyre coming! The sentries, who had to remain outside throughout the drumfire [the British artillery barrage], rise out of the shell holes. Dust and dirt lie a centimetre-thick on their faces and uniforms. Their cry of warnings rings piercingly in the narrow gaps that form the dugout entrance Get out ... get out ... theyre coming! Now men rush to the surface and throw themselves into shell holes and craters; now they fling themselves in readiness at the craters rim; now they rush forward under cover from the former second and third lines and place themselves in the first line of defence. Theres a choking in every throat, a pressure which is released in a wild yell, in the battle-cry: Theyre coming! Theyre coming! Finally, the battle! The nightmare of this week-long drumfire is about to end; finally we can free ourselves of this week-long inner torment, no longer mush we crouch in a flattened dugout like a mouse in a trap.

The machine-gunners, who in quieter times were much mocked and envied (excused from handling ammunition) are popular now! One belt after another is raced through: 250 shots, 1,000 shots, 3,000 shots. Bring up the spare gun barrels! Shouts the gun commander. The gun barrel is changed. Carry on shooting 5,000 shots the barrel has to be changed again. The barrel is scorching hot, the coolant is boiling. The gunners hands are nearly scorched, scalded. The coolant in the gun jacket boils, vaporized by the furious shooting. In the heat of battle, the steam hose comes away from the opening of the water can, into which the steam is meant to recondense. A tall jet of steam sprays upwards, a fine target for the enemy. Its lucky for us that the sun is shining in their eyes and that its behind us.

The enemys getting closer. We keep up our continuous fire. The steam dies away, again the barrel needs changing. The coolants nearly all vaporized. Where is there water? Shouts the gunlayer. Theres soda water (iron rations from the dugout) down below. Theres none there, Corporal! The iron rations were all used up in the week-long bombardment. Still the English attack: even though they already lie shot down in their hundreds in front of our lines, fresh waves continue to pour over from their jumping-off positions

The skin of the gunners, of the gun commanders, hangs in shreds from their fingers, their hands are scalded! The left thumb is reduced to a swollen, shapeless piece of meat from continually pressing the safety catch. The hands grip the lightweight, thin gun handles, as if locked in a seizure. The platoons other machine-gun jams. Gunner Schw is shot in the head and falls over the belt that he feeds in. The belt is displaced, taking the cartridges at an angle into the feeder, where they become stuck. Another gunner takes over. The dead man is laid to one side. The gunlayer takes out the feeder, removes the cartridges and reloads.

Shooting nothing but shooting, barrel changing, handling ammunition and layout out the dead and wounded in the bottom of the trench: such is the harsh and furious pace of the morning of 1 July 1916. Englands youth, Scotlands best regiments, bled to death in front of Serre. Our machine-gun, right by the SerreMailly road, commanded by the brave Unteroffizier [Corporal] Koch from Pforzheim, shoots through the last belt. It has driven twenty thousand shots into the English!