The Irish Guards in the Great War, Volume 1 (of 2) : $b The First BattalionKipling, Rudyard
History
The Irish Guards in the Great War, Volume 1 (of 2) : $b The First Battalion
Kipling, Rudyard
Great Britain. Army. Irish Guards -- History; World War, 1914-1918 -- Regimental histories -- Great Britain
By March they were back on their fortified Le Transloy-Loupart line,
except that they still held the village of Irles above Miraumont,
which was linked up to the Le Transloy-Loupart line by a peninsula
of wired trenches. Irles was carried by the Second and Eighteenth
Divisions on the 10th March.
As soon as our guns were able to concentrate on the Le
Transloy-Loupart line itself, which they did the day after, the
enemy, leisurely as always, released it, and fell back on and through
his next line a mile or two behind--Rocquigny-Ablainzevelle--steadied
his rear-guards, and continued his progress towards the Hindenburg
defences, withdrawing along the whole front from south of Arras to
Roye. By the 17th of March word was given for a general advance of
our troops in co-operation with the French.
To go back a month. Rumours of what was to be expected had cheered
the camps for some time past; and just as the fall of single
rocks precedes the collapse of an undermined quarry-face, so the
German line had crumpled in certain spots long before their system
readjusted itself throughout. Front-trenches, far removed from
actual points of pressure, observed that life with them was quieter
than even the state of the weather justified, and began to make
investigations.
When the Battalion went up, as usual, on the 15th February to relieve
the 2nd Grenadiers in the trenches a little north of Rancourt and
opposite St. Pierre Vaast Wood, their casualties for the four days
were but three killed and five wounded. “Practically no sniping and
very occasional shelling.” They treated it lightly enough, for it was
here that the sentry told the conscientious officer who had heard a
shell drop near the trench: “Ah, it fell quite convenient here”--a
jerk of his thumb over his shoulder, and as an afterthought--“’Twas a
dud, though.” The ground was still hard, and, to the men’s joy, they
could not dig.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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