Eyewitness: The Action at Gheluvelt, October 1914

James Patton

Hubert C. Rees CMG DSO (1882–1948) was born in Conway, Wales, the only son a of a clergyman, who was the only son of a British Army officer. Educated at Charterhouse School in Surrey, in 1900 young Rees joined the 3rd (Militia) Battalion of the East Surreys. He promptly volunteered for Imperial Service in the Second Boer War (1899–1902). In 1903 he was commissioned in the regulars as a 2nd lieutenant in the 2nd Welsh, and by 1914 had made captain. He served with this battalion as a part of the 3rd Brigade, 1st Division, British Expeditionary Force (BEF) during the Retreat from Mons, the First Battle of the Aisne and into the First Battle of Ypres. On 21 October Rees’s company fought their way to the relief of a unit of the 1st South Wales Borderers which was taking the brunt of a German attack. Rees was later awarded the Distinguished Service Order (DSO) for this action.

Ten days later, at the end of the Battle of Gheluvelt (29-31 October 1914), in Rees’s words “the 2nd Welsh was annihilated” repelling a massive German assault. There were about 1,200 soldiers, from Rees’s battalion and the 1st Queens Royal Regiment (West Surrey), and the casualty rate was 95 percent.

Rees, a captain at the time, wrote in his diary:

As soon as it became light, the storm broke. The trenches, lane, and village were deluged with shells of all calibres. It was impossible to move in the sunk lane and many men were hit. After the bombardment had been going on for some time, a few wounded men from B Company came in to say Marshall had been killed and that practically the whole company destroyed. The lane itself was indefensible, so Colonel Morland decided to move back to the front of the village and hold that with what men he could collect.

Young had come in from my two platoons on the left badly wounded by a rifle bullet. I crawled down to the end of the sunk lane to see if I could get back any of his men, who were in a hopeless situation. When I got to the end, I had a good view of their trench 50 yards off. There was a partially dug communication trench, only a couple of feet deep, between the end of the lane and them. A number of men were trying to run across this 50 yards to the lane, instead of crawling up the trench. I shouted at them to try the trench, but could not be heard. About 25 men attempted to run, but not a single man got more than half way and they seemed to me to be killed outright. It was useless waiting so I went back up the ditch alongside the Menin Road, following the men the colonel had already withdrawn.

 

Key  Locations During the First Battle of Ypres

I found my only remaining platoon more or less intact at the barricade and that Morland had moved towards the SWB [South Wales Borderers]. I started moving the platoon to follow Morland. The shell fire around the barricade was very violent. Two burst in the house behind which I sheltered, one cut the sign post neatly in half at the corner, another came through a wall 10 yards away and killed a man who was passing. Eventually I got away with a dozen men, four of whom were carrying Young in a mackintosh sheet, and one man had a machine gun of which the tripod had been blown to pieces and for which he had no ammunition. I followed Morland, who I estimate had about 80 men with him.

I saw no signs of them where I expected to find them and concluded that they had been forced by the hail of shells to move farther back. Several of my dozen men had been wounded by shrapnel, so without seeing anyone at all, I went through the northern outskirts of Gheluvelt and finally arrived at the position of 54th Battery, RFA [Royal Field Artillery]; commanded by Major Peel to whom I reported that I did not think that were more than 100 men of the Welsh Regiment left. He obviously disbelieved me, and I fancy seriously thought putting me under arrest for spreading alarmist reports. I confess to being shaken, the stock of my rifle had been shot through and the strap of my water bottle cut. He directed me to stand by as escort to the guns. I remained with the guns for some time, collecting stragglers until I had 40-50 men.

At midday a battalion advanced from our left rear moving in lines of companies under heavy accurate shrapnel fire. These turned out to be the Worcesters. About the same time, Lyttleton came over from the brigade to say that every available man was to counter-attack. I followed the Worcesters and came up to their reserve company in a trench to the left rear of Gheluvelt. The rest of the battalion had disappeared on the flank of the village and the rifle fire was heavy. I pushed on across a valley which ran up beyond the trench, through a confused disorganised mass of men under heavy shell fire, and lost most of my scratch command in the confusion.

I went on to see what was going on and just reached the end of the village when I heard my name shouted and, turning back, I saw Colonel Morland. He shouted to me to come to him saying that these 10 men attacks were no use. He added that Ferrar had been killed leading a bayonet charge near the barricade and that the battalion had been wiped out. It appeared that while I was absent with the 54th Battery, the survivors under Colonel Morland, Major Pritchard, Captain Ferrar and Moore had had a most desperate fight on the north edge of Gheluvelt, at one time getting as far back as the barricade where Ferrar was killed and Pritchard severely wounded. Morland and I started to walk back towards the 54th Battery and men from all the regiments involved were running back in the same direction. We endeavoured to rally a few of the groups and collected 25 men of the Welsh Regiment by the time we reached the guns. We got into a trench near the battery and were joined by Moore and Corder.

By this time, the enemy had pushed up south of the Menin Road past Gheluvelt as the battery was under rifle fire and bullets were striking the parapet of a trench a little to our right. Captain Robinson came over to say that Major Peel had been wounded by a bullet through the leg and that he was now commanding the battery. There were now eight officers standing together in the trench. Moore on the left, myself next, then Morland and next to him Captain Robinson with Corder, a captain in the Gloucesters, and somebody else beyond again. It was then that a shell burst in front killing Moore on my left and mortally wounding Colonel Morland on my right. It was a final blow. Morland was a terrible loss. He remained to the very end as cool and collected as if he was on parade at home. Moore was also a great loss and the regiment lost one of its bravest officers.

At this time, Corder and myself were the only two officers who had survived the fighting at Gheluvelt, and we had about 25 men. [Having taken command of the battalion] these I spread out as a firing line across a turnip field a little in front of the guns and went to interview Robinson. I suggested he should open fire on some houses about 500 yards away on the south side of the Menin Road which were obviously full of snipers. He blew the houses about pretty badly with HE [high explosive] and then continued with shrapnel on the slope beyond them. This put a stop to the rifle shooting, which was getting rather trying.

Lieutenant Blewitt of this battery came to say that the Germans appeared to be bringing up a field gun to the barricade in the middle of Gheluvelt and asked permission to take an 18-pounder on to the road and have a duel with it. Having got permission, he man-handled the gun on to the road. The German gun fired first and missed and Blewitt did not give him another chance. He put a stop to any trouble from that quarter for the rest of the afternoon.

If the Germans had pushed home their attack during the afternoon there was nothing to stop them. About 5pm I was handed command of the 1st Queens [West Surrey}, which consisted of Lieutenant Lloyd and 21 men. Major Watson of the Queens, who put me in command, went off to act as brigade major of the 3rd Brigade. My force, consisting of these two battalions, only totalled some 60 men and two officers, the combined strengths of the two that morning could hardly have been less than 1,200 men.

I set out to discover our exact situation. I was at a farm house about 400 yards from the Menin Road. Between me and the road there was a remnant of the Royal Munster Fusiliers and 200 yards of trench full of men who belonged to every regiment of the Army. They were without officers and fast asleep from exhaustion. About that time, two fairly strong companies of the Berkshires came through with their right on the Menin Road. I spoke to their CO [commanding officer] and suggested some caution, he said he had been told to go straight ahead and did so until stopped by rifle fire a little further on.

Gheluvelt Chateau Today

 

I next went to the left and found the 1st Division Cyclists, 160 strong, holding a front of 400 yards with the Black Watch on their left on Polygon Wood. I then went to Gheluvelt Chateau, where I found the SWBs under Lieutenant Colonel Leach still in possession, having had some desperate hand to hand fighting in the chateau grounds. I told Leach what the situation was and then returned. The SWBs withdrew and passed behind my farm shortly afterwards.

Lieutenant Hewitt, Sergeant Smedley and 5 men reported to me about 11pm. He said that they were the sole survivors of the two platoons with whom he had disappeared on the 29th. A shell had killed or wounded five men a few yards away as he was returning. He had been with the 7th Division holding some trenches in the direction of Kruisech. They had been heavily attacked but had beat off all attacks until, after dark, on the 30th, he found himself with 24 men completely cut off by the Germans, who had driven back the troops on either flank. He decided on a bold experiment and forming his men up in fours marched through the Germans in the dark without being detected. He attached himself to the 2nd Queens whom he found holding trenches at the edge of Veldhoek Woods. They came in for heavy shelling and having lost most of his men set out to find the battalion.

‘At 2am, on 1st November, I was ordered to move the Welsh and the Queens south of the Menin Road and dig in. The SWBs, who were still fairly strong, held about 400 yards southwards from the road and we extended beyond them. Colonel Leach, commanding, was badly wounded by a shell splinter in the foot, and Major Reddie became their commanding officer. We had already dug one lot of trenches that night and now had to dig another set before dawn, with only three hours to do it in.

Although Gheluvelt was subsequently lost on 31 October, the momentum of the German advance had been broken in a dashing counterattack by the 2nd Battalion The Worcestershire Regiment.

Rees retained command of his battalion during its reconstitution and was appointed temporary major. He then spent over a year back in the UK, first attending the staff college, then teaching at Sandhurst and finally on the staff of the 43rd (Wessex) and the 38th (Welsh) Divisions, which were in the process of forming. On 15 June 1916 he was temporarily promoted to brigadier general and sent as a last-minute replacement to command the 94th Brigade, 31st Division, a K-2 formation of “Pals” battalions from the Lancashire coalfields. He led them in action at Serre on 1 July 1916, where they took horrendous losses. Rees refused to renew the attack on day two, thus sparing the two battalions of the Barnsley Pals. The 11th E. Lancs (Accrington Pals) had lost 585 men out of 720, at 81 percent one of the heaviest tolls of any battalion on that day (see https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HSIc4mxODc8). In 1988, in this controversial work British Butchers and Bunglers of World War One (1988), Australian historical writer John Laffin chose General HC Rees as a particularly glaring example of military incompetence, due to his performance on 1 July.

On 4 July, Rees was moved over to the command of the 11th (Lancashire) Brigade, a regular unit which had lost its brigadier. He held this post until 1 January 1917 before moving on to two other brigade commands. In early 1918 he took over the 150th (York and Durham) Brigade, 50th Division, a first-line Territorial unit. They fought defensive actions against the German Operation Michael in March and Operation Georgette in April, suffering heavy casualties, and were sent to recover and rebuild at the Chemin des Dames, which was a quiet sector. A short while later, however, the German Blücher-Yorck offensive hit them head-on. Seeing that the German advance could not be halted, Rees decided to withdraw from a position on the Plateau de Californie (near Craonne) to PC Terasse (south of Craonnelle). But the 1/4th Yorks (Green Howards) had been overwhelmed, and the Germans were already approaching PC Terrasse. The HQ had to be broken up, and Rees was among those captured. His POW story was described in the Roads post of 3 August 2026, titled “Captured: Fifteen British Generals.” The highlight of his experience was an impromptu (and involuntary) rendezvous with the Kaiser on Craonne ridge. 

 

General Rees Meets the Kaiser 

After the war, he was appointed a Companion of the Order of St Michael and St George (CMG) in the New Year’s Honours. He reverted to his substantive rank of major and took on the command of the 6th (Territorial) Battalion of the Welsh, with subsequent service as a general staff officer. He left the army in 1922. He subsequently published his memoirs, which have recently been re-released as Welsh Warrior - A Personal Record of the Great War, Brig. Gen. Hubert Rees (edited by Peter Hart) (Outline Publishing Ltd, 2025). 

Sources include: National Army Museum; the Internet Archive; BBC.com

Railway Warfare in the Russian Civil War

Armored Artillery Train, Probably in Siberia

  

The strategy known as "railway" or "echelon" was built around armored trains with artillery on flat rail cars and is distinctive of the skirmishes and battles of 1917–1918 between the Bolsheviks and the Volunteer Army. The latter army was a combination of varied anti-Bolshevik forces drawn primarily from elements of the former Imperial Russian Army (which had fought in the Great War) that coalesced in the  south and east of the country in the hope of overturning the more radical political  aspects of the revolution or, indeed, an actual return to the monarchy. Disparate generals and regiments comprised the army, and political factions hobbled it to some degree, although it enjoyed a brief ascendance in 1919, before being swept southward to either destruction or evacuation and emigration. It is often described as the “White” Army, not always by those participating. They were the “Volunteers.” 

In this style of combat, the train and the forces it carries (together an "echelon") are assigned a range of combat missions. This use of the French term échelon for a naval or aviation combat formation appears to have been adapted for specifically Russian needs in their civil war. Echelons could also be combined under a single command for larger operations. During the Great War on the Eastern Front, unlike the legendary static trenches of the Western Front, the Russians and their foes had manned a much longer front and regularly advanced and retreated large distances. The trains of the Russian Empire successfully supported this front, which was both long (N to S 1600 km) and deep (W to E 500 km). Consequently, a working rail transportation infrastructure was well in place to continue into the civil war and the consolidation of Soviet power.

 

Artillery and Machine Guns Protrude from Turrets

   

Here is a succinct description of echelon war, made possible by the existing rail lines and rolling stock of the empire: "[The] most characteristic features of an echelon war [are]…the absence of continuous fronts; relatively small forces and assets involved in hostilities, operations mainly along railways with minimal removal of the battle area from the railway; and the use of rail echelons to attack and pursue the enemy, or to retreat when meeting with superior enemy forces.”  [Russia’s Railway Forces, N.V. Starostenkov, 2001]

Echelon warfare gave way eventually to larger-scale operations by late 1918. As Russia's Railway Forces comments: “With the increase in the number of armies and the scale of the armed struggle, the troops are gradually switching to unpaved routes, and the methods of echelon warfare begin to acquire a secondary and then auxiliary character. In the second half of 1918, the echelon war loses its significance.”

  

 

 The Volunteer Army armored train On to Moscow, 1919, before its capture by the Reds in 1920 in Novorossiisk

                

~ Kimball Worcester 

 

Source: translator's introduction to A Russian Nurse in War and Revolution, Memoirs 1912–1922 by Tatiana Varnek, translation from the Russian, 2021; Wikimedia Commons; Wikipedia; https://pikabu.ru/story/ikh_zvyozdnyiy_chas_bronepoezda_na_grazhdanskoy_voyne_v_rossii_6719677; 

 

Memorials to the Missing

  

Verdun Douaumont Ossuary

The historians who advised the producers of the classic BBC/PBS series The Great War (1996) estimated that the total number of personnel reported “Missing” by all combatant forces in WWI was about 7.75 million, or about 35 percent of total casualties. In after-action reports the casualties were usually estimated, and as the war progressed, these estimates became less accurate. In fact, the only two combatant forces that kept consistently good records at all were the British Empire and the Americans. 

The majority of the missing are from the Eastern Front, where (1) there were huge numbers of POWs taken on both sides, many of whom were never accounted for; (2) there were large numbers of desertions, also on both sides; and (3) almost all casualties were buried in unmarked, often mass, graves.  

British Empire missing in WWI were officially tallied as 191,652 or 21 percent, of total killed or died. The Commonwealth War Graves Commission lists on its 127 memorials around the world the names of 397,431 personnel who have no known grave. Thus, somewhere around 205,779 were tallied as dead but their remains are unidentified, lost, or buried at sea. The official total of the fallen was 908,371. 

 A British scholar has this rule of thumb: about half of the British dead lie in known burial places (not necessarily individual graves), about a quarter are buried in sites but not identified, and the  remains of the rest have not been found. In all the CWGC cemeteries there are about 587,000  known burials and 559,000 unknown burials; these numbers include burials from other conflicts. 

Today the CWGC maintains burial sites in 1,992 locations on the Western Front alone. During the war there were many thousands of temporary cemeteries and individual burial sites, and the  consolidation process was inexact. On visiting CWGC cemeteries, one is struck by the large  number of individual graves that bear no names. Some are even merely tagged “A Soldier of the  Great War”, so some of these remains are certainly French or German. 

 

 The Menin Gate Memorial, Ieper, Belgium, newly restored by the CWGC

Every year additional remains are found, usually as a result of construction, archeological work, or metal detecting. Attempts are made to identify these through artifactual research, war diary entries, and even DNA, if possible.   

In the case of the Americans, the math is much simpler. In 1926 it was determined that there were 4,452 Americans missing (or 3.8 percent of total U.S. losses), and all are commemorated by name on memorial walls at American Battle Monuments Commission cemetery chapels, of which there are just 13. Today the actual number of missing is smaller, as the remains of some Americans have subsequently been found. ABMC cemeteries have 30,921 burials, of which 1,674 (5.4 percent) are marked “Unknown.” At the time of the construction of the permanent cemeteries, American families were given the choice of leaving the remains in the theater or returning them to the U.S., and by over 2 to 1 they chose to bring them home at government expense. 

Comparing the British Empire to the U.S., why are the American ratios of the missing to total casualties and unknown to known burials so much smaller? The answer is simple: American soldiers’ remains didn’t have as much time to get lost. The duration of the combat was much shorter, mostly a little over four months, and the U.S. forces were moving ever forward; the ground wasn’t changing hands and being relentlessly shelled by both sides. 

 

Montfaucon American Monument, unveiled in 1937

  Jim Patton 

 

The Doughboys' Good Old Hobnail Boots

 

"I received the strangest looking boots today. . . They have nails in the soles and horseshoes on the heels . . . . I don't believe you could wear them out!"

Click on Image to Enlarge

Sources: The Great War: U.S. Army Artifacts; Center for Military History, U.S. Army; Doughboy Center

Map Series #31 — War Breaks Out in Southern Asia

 

Southern Asia 1914: Outbreak of the Great War

Click on Link to Connect

(This Map Is Interactive)

The mosaic of protectorates, empires, suzerainties, and semi-independencies in Southern Asia when war broke out in 1914 is a glittering array of another continent of battlefields and shifting influences worldwide. The dwindling Ottoman Empire still holds sway in the northwestern region and through much of the Arabian peninsula. European colonial expansion in the 19th century had set up this mixture of extended areas to fight over and occupy during the Great War. 

Source: OmniAtlas

Remembering a Veteran: Lieut. Gen. H. Gordon Bennett, Australian WWI Paragon and WWII Pariah

Henry Gordon Bennett, (1887–1963) CB CMG DSO VD MiD(6) was born at Balwyn, Melbourne, where his South African-born father was a schoolmaster. He attended Balwyn State School and Hawthorn College, then became an actuarial clerk at the Australian Mutual Provident Society (AMP). At age 21, he was commissioned a 2nd lieutenant in the Citizen Military Forces (CMF) and posted to the 5th Battalion, Victorian Militia. In 1912, a massive reorganization moved his battalion into the new 67th (Hodson’s Bay) regiment. He convinced his new superiors to appoint him as the regimental adjutant, which carried a temporary promotion to major. Shortly after the First World War began, Bennett transferred from the militia into the new 6th Battalion, Australian Imperial Force (AIF), a part of the 2nd Brigade, 1st Division, AIF.  Bennett had wangled a furlough from the AMP and managed to keep his temporary rank, even though he was no longer an adjutant.

Due to a shortage of training camps in the UK, the entire 1st Div AIF was held in Egypt in October 1914, and Bennett got to be the second-in-command of the 6th. The battalion was sent to Gallipoli, where early on the morning of 25 April they were dropped off on the southern flank of the beachhead at ANZAC Cove. Bennett was detailed to lead 300 men up to establish an advanced position on Pine Ridge, south of Lone Pine. After only four hours on shore, Bennett was wounded on the shoulder and sent back to the beach for treatment. Subsequently, the enemy counter-attacked and the isolated position on Pine Ridge was overwhelmed. The men lost included Bennett’s brother Godfrey. Refusing evacuation to a hospital ship, with only the field dressings on his wounds, Bennett then returned to the fight, thus acquiring a reputation amongst his Diggers for guts and steadfast responsibility. This was the only time he would be wounded in the war.

 In early May, the entire 2nd Brigade was transferred to Cape Helles for the Second Battle of Krithia. Bennett’s battalion advanced against impossible odds and took heavy losses. Bennett had actually been struck by a bullet that hit his ammunition pouch, detonating stored cartridges. He was knocked off his feet but otherwise unwounded. By the end of the day, he was the only officer in the 6th left standing. With a handful of men, he had achieved the farthest advance of the attack. The next day he took over the battalion and was promoted to temporary lieutenant colonel.

On 7 August, the 6th was involved in one of the diversions in support of the Suvla Bay landings. They were tasked with capturing a Turkish position known as the German Officers' Trench, which enfiladed neighboring ANZAC positions, including the Nek. Two attempts at capture failed; the battalion’s losses were 80 killed and 66 wounded. Bennett had survived unwounded again, which enhanced his aura of immunity.

Following the debacle at the German Officers' Trench, the 2nd Brigade, including the remnants of Bennett's 6th, relieved the 1st Brigade at Lone Pine. Later in August, as reinforcements from the 2nd Division AIF arrived at Anzac, the original Australian units were rotated off to Lemnos to rest and refit. While there, Bennett contracted paratyphoid fever and was evacuated to the UK. He wouldn’t rejoin the AIF until January 1916.

In March 1916, the 1st Division AIF moved from Egypt to France. Bennett subsequently led his 6th Battalion through the Battle of Pozières. After the 1st and 3rd Brigades had captured the town on 24 July 1916, the 6th and 8th Battalions of the 2nd Brigade moved in to occupy the ruins, where they had to endure a prolonged artillery bombardment. On 26 July he reported to divisional HQ:  "My men are being unmercifully shelled. They cannot hold out if an attack is launched. The firing line and my headquarters are being plastered with heavy guns and the town is being swept by shrapnel. I myself am O.K. but the front line is being buried." Nevertheless, at Pozières, the 6th lost just 190 men, the smallest toll among the 12 battalions of the 1st Division, which overall suffered 7,700 casualties.

Bennett continued to serve as the CO of the 6th, as well as doing stints as the acting 3rd Brigade commander, covering for Brig. Gen. Ewen George Sinclair-Maclagan (1868–1948) CB CMG DSO, a British regular soldier who suffered frequent attacks of “exhaustion.” In mid-November, Bennett took a brief leave in London, where he married his fiancée, Bess Buchanen, whose gold-framed picture he had faithfully carried in his blouse pocket. He later claimed that, while somewhere in France, the photo had stopped a bullet from hitting him in the heart. If true, it seems incredible that a man could have been so miraculously saved twice.

On 3 December 1916, he was finally given the command of the 3rd Brigade and became a temporary brigadier general. He was embittered by the delay which he found unconscionable.  Notwithstanding, at age 29, he was at the time the youngest general officer in the Australian Army. He would lead the 3rd Brigade for the remainder of the war.

Further actions on the Western Front included repulsing a counter-attack at Lagnicourt in April 1917, staging a successful assault on the Gheluvelt plateau in September 1917, in which the brigade captured the German third line and held onto it for five days, suffering heavy losses at Poelcapelle and Passchendaele during October 1917, achieving great success at Chuignes during Ludendorff’s “Black Day,” and attacking in several smaller actions against the Hindenburg Line in 1918. 

The high command considered him an able front-line commander, sometimes heroic dependable and level-headed. He was generally well regarded by his men as well, who considered him lucky, a sort of human talisman. But his peers found him jealous, prickly, conniving and whinging. The official AIF historian Charles E. W. Bean mentions Bennett's jealousy and criticism of superiors and petty quarrels with other officers. Bennett’s chief of staff in Malaya, Col. James Thyer, put it this way: Between the wars he was a civilian and did not study military tactics, but rested on his World War I laurels. He was moved by hunches and believed in the stars. He was tremendously ambitious and had his head in the clouds, which is the last place a good battle commander’s head should be. Although he was never in Bennett’s chain of command, a famous peer and fellow CMF officer, the lighthorseman  Maj. Gen. William Glasgow (1876–1955) KCB CMG DSO VD, commander of the 13th Brigade, put it most succinctly: Bennett is a pest!         

After the war Bennett lived in Sydney, where he sat on the New South Wales State Repatriation Board and in 1928 became one of the City Commissioners. He became involved in rightwing politics, too. He continued in the CMF, commanding the 9th Infantry Brigade and in 1926 the 2nd Division. He wasn’t promoted to major general until 1930, another delay that he resented, especially since Glasgow had been made a major general in 1921. Along with some other citizen-officers in Australia's essentially part-time army, he detested the handful of regular (Staff Corps) officers. His distaste of permanent officers, especially British (like Sinclair-Maclagan) increased during the two decades of peace. In late 1937 he published a series of newspaper articles on defense policy which criticized regular officers and which resulted censure by the Military Board.

On the outbreak of World War II, Bennett was junior in rank only to the Chief of the General Staff (CGS), Gen. Brudnell White (1876-1940) KCB KCMG KCVO DSO, and Glasgow, who had been made the Australian High Commissioner for Canada in 1939.  Bennett was certain that he would be the leader of a new AIF and was infuriated when White instead appointed the commander of the 6th Division, Maj. Gen. Thomas Blamey (1884–1951) GBE KCB CMG DSO MiD(8) VD, a regular officer with whom Bennett had clashed many times. Worse still, White then gave the vacated 6th Division command to Maj. Gen. Iven Giffard Mackay (1882–1966) KBE CMG DSO (2) VD, known familiarly as “Mr. Chips.” Bennett and his cronies saw these moves as revenge exacted by the politicians and Staff Corps. His military qualities weren’t the issue; it was his temperament—he was considered unsuitable for a semi-diplomatic command, especially one that would  involve subordination to British generals ( let alone American ones, as it would develop).

Bennett’s bad news didn’t stop there: as the AIF formed the new 7th, 8th and 9th Divisions, each command went to others. Bennett languished unassigned until August 1940, when White's death in a plane crash led to the appointment of the commander of the 8th Division, the engineer Maj. Gen. Vernon Sturdee (1890–1966) KBE, CB, DSO as the new CGS, once again skipping over Bennett. However, as CGS, Sturdee appointed Bennett to succeed him as commander of the 8th Division. This series of slights spurred Bennett’s ambition to make up lost ground, particularly against Blamey.

When the British asked Australia to contribute a force to help the Indian Army in the defense of Malaya, Bennett and his 8th got the job. In February 1941 he flew to Malaya and joined his division, which then consisted of just the 22nd Brigade (likely Blarney’s doing). In fact, Bennett never had all of his brigades in the theater, let alone all together. His relations with his own senior officers were unhappy and some of them tried to have him replaced on medical grounds. His dislike of regular officers continued and was felt within his command, but actually his most antagonistic relationship was with Brig. Gen. H. B. Taylor (1890–1966), a civilian chemist and fellow CMF officer, who was the CO of the 22nd AIF Brigade until sacked by Bennett. Bennett’s dealings with British senior officers in Singapore weren’t harmonious, especially with the chief, Lieut. Gen. Arthur Ernest Percival (1887–1966) CB DSO(2) OBE MC DL.

Japanese troops landed in Malaya on 8 December 1941 and advanced steadily southward. On 9 January 1942, although he had no experience whatsoever in working with the Indian Army, by dint of seniority Bennett was given command of an ad hoc division-size formation called “Westforce,” which consisted of the recently arrived 27th AIF Brigade, plus the remnants of the battle-shocked 8th and 22nd Indian Brigades and the green 45th Indian Brigade. Bennett was charged with defending northwest Johore state. His troop dispositions were fundamentally unsound. Save for a successful ambush by Australians at Gemensah Bridge on 14 January and the dogged defense of Parit Sulong Bridge by the Indians of the 45th Brigade, which delayed the enemy for several days (at the cost of about 80 percent casualties), overall he fared no better than his British counterparts. By the end of the month the defenders had to withdraw to Singapore. A command center was set up in a space in the Ford factory which was called “The Box.” Considered the most disciplined troops available, Bennett’s two AIF brigades bore the brunt of the 8 February Japanese assault but were overwhelmed.

Bennett's conduct of operations had been questionable and Percival later noted that Bennett became more troublesome as the end approached. There were 15 top-ranking officers and civil leaders that met daily in the Box, all British except for Bennett. They decided to ask for surrender on 15 February. On the night of the 14th, after having issued an order stating that all officers in command of troops would stay with their men, he handed over command of the 8th Division to a fellow CMF officer, his chief of artillery Brig. Gen. C. A. Callaghan (1890–1967), who was hospitalized and hors de combat. Bennett then proceeded, in the American lingo, to “bug out.”

There were several published accounts of his adventure, none of which were provided by Bennett himself. Broadly stated, the story goes like this. Along with a few junior officers and some local Europeans, Bennett commandeered a series of watercraft by threatening, bullying, and pulling rank. They successfully crossed the Straits of Malacca to Sumatra, although it took them seven days—they had planned for two. Nevertheless, they met up with a river launch, which took them up the Batang Hari River to where it crossed the main highway, at which point they were met and driven to Padang, on the west coast. From there, Bennett flew to Java and on to Australia in PBYs, arriving in Melbourne on 2 March 1942 (ten days before Gen. Douglas MacArthur bailed out of Corregidor).

The Australian response to Bennett's escape saga was mixed. Some actually bought his premise that he had valuable experience on Japanese tactics. Most, however, including senior officers, denounced him for deserting his troops. At first the cover story seemed to work: Bennett was promoted to temporary lieutenant general on 7 April, but then he was made the head of III Corps, based in Perth, which was a training job. Blamey refused to allowed Bennett to have another AIF command, not even in the New Guinea jungles where Bennett’s supposed experience might possibly have been useful. Bennett tried petitioning politicians for help, but none would touch his situation. Bitterly disappointed, he quit active duty, transferring back to the CMF on 9 May 1944. He then proceeded to write his analysis of the Malayan debacle, entitled Why Singapore Fell, in which he mostly blamed people who couldn’t object because they were either POWs or dead. Although Blamey sought to block the book's publication on the grounds that the war wasn’t over, it came out later that year anyway.

After the release of the surviving POWs in 1945, Blarney received a letter from Percival that accused Bennett of unlawfully vacating his command. A military investigation was called which found that Bennett had relinquished his command without permission but didn’t cover his subsequent run for it. Bennett still commanded support from his Diggers who had served with him in World War I. Responding to their pressure, the politicians commissioned Supreme Court Justice George Ligertwood (1888–1967) KCB to hold another inquiry, the findings of which, while they didn’t charge Bennett with cowardice, they did find his actions unjustified.

Bennett's stated case for leaving Singapore evolved to this: since he had learned how to defeat the Japanese but had been let down by incompetent British leadership and poor quality Indian troops, he was obligated to report his knowledge to his superiors. This was poppycock. In fact, his greatest tactical achievement was made by those maligned Indian soldiers.  He had proven no more proficient than any other commander in Malaya, where no one did a good job.

Recall the complex and closely timed series of movements that plucked him from Singapore and got him to Melbourne in just 17 days, which certainly required forethought, planning, resources, payments, and outside help. It’s absolutely incredible that he could have arranged all of this at the last minute while he was hunkered down in Singapore. The escape scheme must have been hatched way before 14 February.  

To Bennett, the most important reason for his actions was likely his desire for higher command, especially to lead the AIF, which meant that he had to get back to Australia somehow, some way. As a POW, he wouldn’t ever get promoted again.

His prejudice toward regular officers, particularly British, plus his persistent ambition for advancement, overcame his soldierly bearing at the most critical point in his career. When his most sought-after goal was permanently denied to him, he consistently blamed others, especially Blarney.

After the war Bennett left the CMF but kept his oar in, writing articles on the benefits of a citizen army over a regular one. He died on 1 August 1962. 

Jim Patton 

Sources include Australian War Memorial and The Australian Dictionary of Biography

Spotting for Two AEF Offensives, 1918: the 4th Corps Observation Group

In 1918, the AEF was destined for two formidable offensives—the St. Mihiel in early September and the Meuse-Argonne from late September through to the Armistice on 11 November. 

The aerial work in support of these monumental offensives fell in part to the 4th Corps Observation group of the First Army Air Service, initially formed in France in July 1918. The corps was comprised at the time of the 135th and 8th Aero Squadrons. On 10 November 1918, the 168th Aero Squadron was assigned to the 4th Corps, too late to see wartime service with the corps. 

The 4th Corps' responsibility was tactical reconnaissance and artillery spotting. The 135th Aero—the Liberty Squadron—and the 8th Aero both operated flying the American-built British (Airco) DH-4. 

The graphic below shows the German fighter (scout) planes likely to encounter the 4th Corps planes. The "new model" Pfalz (as of March 1918) was a D.XII; the Roland new model a D.VI; the Hannover CL.II both and the Albatros DVA [a] both started operations in 1917; and the Fokker D.VII is known as a strong penultimate  Fokker wartime model, just predating the radical D.VIII, which, after some months of testing and adjustment, only appeared in frontline service in October 1918. 

These photos presumably served as identification for American pilots, much as "spotter cards" were used in WWII. 

 

Click on Image to Enlarge

 

 Sources: National Museum of the United State Air Forces; Wikipedia. 

Canadian War Artists

The Dominion of Canada contributed so much to the Entente efforts militarily throughout the war. Today on Roads we offer their artistic contributions as well. War artists depicted all areas and venues of the conflict, from frontline experiences on land, sea, and aloft to homefront munitions factories and those keeping the home fires burning. The full website filled with examples of  Official Canadian War Art can be accessed HERE.   Below are two examples from the collection.    ~KW   

 An Artist's Home on the Somme,  

watercolor and wax crayon on paper, 9.7 x 13.3 In. 

William Thurston Topham 1916

 William Thurston Topham (1888–1966) comments on the verso this painting:

My own home at Bottom Wood - about ½ way between Mametz + Contalmaison; In the trench the entrance to an old German dugout can be seen. This is the same dugout illustrated in the; accompanying sketch, + into which I moved later; after my studio was smashed up by a shell; The corrugated iron on the roof and is covered by branches; as concealment from aircraft; T.Topham.; This is a rough sketch of a shelter at; bottom wood on the Somme, used; by myself until it got blown up by shell. The opening in the bank is the end of a trench; known as Pearl Alley + the entrance to; an old German dugout can be seen. 

 

 

 Canadian Artillery in Action, 1916

Kenneth Forbes, 1918, oil on canvas, 62 x 96.5 in. 

Kenneth Forbes (1892–1980)  cited in Wikimedia Commons: 

 

For Kenneth Forbes, then in the British Army, the call to become a war artist in 1918 was unexpected but perhaps not unwelcome. He had been wounded and gassed. 

 

I had been in the front line trenches for over two years and had just been promoted to second-in-command of the 32nd Machine Gun Co. which includes the rank of Captain, when I received an order to report to Col. Barry... he informed me that I was to report to the Canadian War Memorials, London and be transferred to the Canadian Army. 

 

Canadian Artillery in Action reconstructs an incident on 16 July 1916, during the Battle of the Somme. Suffering under an intense barrage that resulted in many casualties, the Canadian gunners nevertheless stayed at their posts. 

 

These are but two of a fascinating trove of Canadian war art in the Canadian War Museum. Please explore further to appreciate and honor those Canadians both lived the war and represented it for posterity in their art.  

  

Sources: William Thurston Topham and Kenneth Forbes, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons; Canadian War Museum; canadianclassicfineart.com. 

November 1917 — The First Three AEF Casualties

November 1917 saw a harsh beginning to the Great War's fourth winter—The Battle of Passchendaele (Third Ypres) came to its brutal end on 10 November, after nearly four months of terrible losses on both sides and little gain. Ten days later, the Battle of Cambrai commenced, introducing the novel offense of tanks, 380 of them, against the German lines. The Bolshevik coup (October in Old Style) reset the course of Russia's history and that of the Great War. In France, on 3 November, the first three AEF soldiers were killed in Barthelémont serving with the 1st Division. 

 

  

 

Pvt Merle Hay, 16th Infantry, 1st Division, was born in Carroll County, IA, in 1896.

Pvt Thomas Enright, 16th Infantry, 1st Division, was born in Bloomfield, PA, in 1887. 

Cpl James Bethel Gresham, 16th Infantry, 1st Division, was born in McLean County, KY, in 1893.

 

In response to the beginning of the Civil War, the 16th Infantry was first formed as the 1st Battalion  of the 11th U.S. Infantry in May 1861. By 1864, the regiment was serving in General Grant's Overland Campaign. The next year, they helped disarm General Lee’s soldiers at Appomattox in April. 

Subsequent service in the Philippines and Mexico cemented the regiment in General Pershing's esteem, and he chose it to join the new 1st Division, which was to land in France in June 1917. From July to November 1917 the regiment trained in France under the radically new circumstances of the Great War. 

In 1918, through St. Mihiel and the Meuse-Argonne, the 16th Infantry Regiment exemplified the 1st Division's new motto—“No mission too difficult, no sacrifice too great—Duty First!” The first three regimental casualties, a scant year before these monumental American offensives, became a powerful touchstone of the mission of the 16th Regiment, 1st Division, AEF. 

 

 Pvt Merle Hay

 

Cartoon published in the 8 November 1917, issue of the Des Moines Register; "Uncle Sam brings home the body." A copy of the cartoon would be placed on a monument to Hay in Glidden, IA.  

 

 

 Pvt Thomas Enright

 

Cpl James Bethel Gresham 

 

 

Monument erected in November 1918 to Hay, Enright, and Gresham in Barthelémont. Destroyed by the German Army in October 1940. 

After the war, all three soldiers' bodies were re-interred in the United States. 

 

Sources: Wikipedia; https://16thinfassn.org/history/regimental-history/ 

 

 

The Soldier Factory: Training and the Making of the British Soldier in the First World War, 1914-1918

  

The Soldier Factory: 

Training and the Making of the British Soldier in the First World War, 1914-1918 

Harry J. Sanderson, Helion and Company, 2026

Reviewed by David F. Beer

 

 

 

 

When World War I broke out Britain had far fewer than a million men who wore the Army uniform. Some 247,500 were full-time soldiers while the rest were either part-time reservists or home defense territorial volunteers. These numbers were further reduced after fighting began and Britain quickly suffered significant casualties, most of them infantrymen. Obviously, more soldiers were desperately needed. How in the following months millions of men flocked to enlist, and how Field Marshal Horatio Herbert Kitchener played a vital role in these events, is a well-known story. Less known is how over the next four years the Army trained all these men and prepared them to fight in a war that had been scarcely imagined.

Sanderson’s book takes a carefully organized approach to all the aspects of turning a civilian into a soldier. In a style reminiscent of a dissertation, he first presents a long introduction on the historiography and methodology which informs his work. He then follows with fourteen detailed chapters and a conclusion. There is a lengthy bibliography but no index. Many chapters include tables presenting regimental names and numbers and each chapter ends with a detailed conclusion or summary.

Little standardized training of raw recruits existed when war began. So much depended on the available resources of the Army and the location and unit where the training took place. A lot depended on the background and quality of the recruits and even on the experience and attitudes of the instructors. Although traditionally the Army had been formed into regiments of men from a certain area (e.g. the Devonshire Regiment) who had a lot in common, this was no longer always the case due to the initial rush of men to join up. Units could not "rely upon command ties to sustain discipline and morale" and had to work harder at building basic discipline and espirit de corps (p. 31). Moreover, supplies were not always immediately available and instances of new recruits training while wearing partial uniforms and even using broom handles in place of rifles were not unknown.

Initially the shortage of men to fill the ranks was drastic and as the author points out “…the Army’s desperation for reinforcements at the front meant they rushed many men to the front whilst only partially trained” (p.70). Nevertheless, training eventually was improved and more or less standardized. The author takes us through this development with detailed chapters discussing specific training: Drill, the Rifle, Machine Guns, Bombing, the Desire to Kill, the use of the Bayonet, Entrenchment, "Weapons of Frightfulness" (gas, chemicals, flame weapons), and even mention of the shovel as a potential weapon of war. Not all soldiers would receive a solid background in all of these, of course, and there were wide gaps in both quantity and quality of training among troops arriving at the front (p.69).

The author’s conclusions are quite blunt and are based on his impressive research evidenced throughout the book. It’s impossible to say how many Tommies would have survived the war with better training. Also, it should be noted that in late 1916 and early 1917 “many recruits were accepted into the Army despite being wholly unfit for military life” (p. 221). Nevertheless, by the end of 1917 training had been considerably improved, especially the training troops received once they were at the front. This no doubt helped bring about the final Allied victory, yet Sanderson cannot help ending on a somber note: “…the BEF high command wasted so many of these men through rushed and poorly prepared attacks after they had achieved initial success” (p. 223). May they rest in peace.

 

 

 

Lloyd George's Generals and Admirals, Lloyd George at War, 1916–1918

 Here is the final part of our excerpt from Professor Cassar's 

 

 

Upon taking power, Lloyd George inherited all his key generals and admirals including two highly professional service chiefs, Admiral Sir John Jellicoe as First Sea Lord and Major-General Sir William Robertson as CIGS. The two were much respected and supported by the press and general public, as well as by their service commanders, Sir David Beatty, Admiral of the Fleet, and General Sir Douglas Haig with the BEF. Before going on, it might be useful to discuss briefly the four senior service advisers who formed a sort of élite group.  

As naval commander, Jellicoe had faced the greatest test of his career when he encountered the German High Seas Fleet off Jutland at the end of May 1916. The battle proved to be a strategic, if not a tactical, victory. Jellicoe received much criticism for not pressing home the attack in the Nelson tradition and allowing the German High Seas Fleet to slip away and return to its base. Still, the German navy did not venture out of its home base again for the remainder of the war, leaving the British in effective control of the North Sea. Jellicoe laid down command of the Grand Fleet after two years to take over the task of First Sea Lord in November 1916, a position for which he was poorly suited. His health had deteriorated under the strain of wartime command and overwork, due in part to his reluctance to delegate authority. He was considerate and self-effacing, alert, intellectually gifted, excelled as a sailor and handler of ships, traditional in outlook, and held in the greatest esteem by all ranks in the service. What he lacked were strength of character and debating skills, severe handicaps when dealing with slippery and articulate politicians in Whitehall. 

 
The government’s chief military advisor was Sir William Robertson, a talented administrator who, incredibly enough, started out as a private and rose to the highest rank in the army as a result of innate shrewdness, immense energy, and obsessive devotion to his profession.  Of humble origins, Robertson dropped out of public school when he was 13 and worked at menial jobs before enlisting in the army at the age of 17. “Wully,” as he was affectionately called, was tall, powerfully built, ruggedly handsome and in excellent physical condition. He was earthy, graceless, blunt, and could be read as easily as a book. Like all the leading soldiers, he correctly identified the Western Front as the only place where the Germans could be beaten and strenuously opposed the diversion of resources to secondary theaters. He believed that, in order to triumph, the Allies must deny the German army respite and wear down its strength through repeated small-scale attacks with limited objectives.  

 

Robertson’s Achilles heel was a lack of perspective, an inability to see the other side of an argument or to work in harmony with politicians questioning his military views. Another shortcoming was his failure to perceive that his proper role was to act as liaison between the government and General Headquarters in France, not as Haig’s advocate. His relations with Lloyd George were bad from the start and grew progressively worse.     

  

Rare but Revealing Photograph of Lloyd George 
with General Haig During a Visit to the Western Front 

Robertson and Haig were never close friends, but they formed what David Woodward describes as “the most important and influential military partnership in British history.” Both were Scottish and every bit the professional. The two had served in India and later in the 1890s attended the Staff College at Camberley. They recognized that coalition warfare imposed restraints on British freedom of action. They shared a common disdain of politicians, and although they did not always see eye-to-eye at the operational level, were united in their belief that the war could only be won on the Western Front. 

 

Time and time again Haig would induce Robertson to bend to his will. One can only speculate why someone as tough-minded and opinionated as Robertson would habitually defer to Haig. The reason, it would seem, was not so much because Robertson was awed or felt socially inferior, but because he was convinced that any split between the two would be exploited by the politicians to further their own agendas.  

Lloyd George’s relations with Haig would be just as stormy as they were with Robertson.  He regarded Haig as rigid, unimaginative, and delusional, with no idea of how to win the war, other than to charge like a bull at the enemy’s impregnable front. The most obvious solution was to replace Haig, but that option was unavailable to Lloyd George at the beginning of his tenure. The Tories had made Haig’s retention a condition for their participation in his government. Without confidence in the High Command, Lloyd George tried to take control of the war and shift the effort against Germany’s allies. If successful, he claimed, it would so weaken Germany as to compel its leaders to come to terms.     

Lloyd George seemed to have shaken the government from top to bottom by the institutional changes that he had introduced, but what then were the challenges that Lloyd George faced and how would history judge his success in meeting them? John Ehrman was right on the mark when he observed that a prime minister engaged in total war was required to carry out three vital tasks: mobilize the home front; devise a coherent strategy; and keep up the nation’s fighting spirit. It remained to be seen whether Lloyd George had the wherewithal to respond effectively, or reasonably so, to the exigencies both at home and on the battlefield.