It was early in March 1917 that my name was put up on the Company order board outside the orderly room at St Albans. I had been there for about 3 months after having been at Shoreham where I was sent after joining up. St Albans was not a bad place as most of the troops were billeted in houses with families. The training here was mostly of trench digging and range finding. I had been held back from going overseas because I was not yet 19 years old. Some of the men in those days had been sent overseas a lot younger as they had joined under age. I was one of them but had been found out and was able to get a lot more training in until my turn came. I think it was on a Monday afternoon when several of us were lined up outside the Company office with all our kit and looking like pack mules.
After saying goodbye to our pals we set off for the station. We had been told we were going to France and I myself was glad as I didn't fancy going anywhere else. After travelling all night we got to Folkestone in the early hours of the morning. A part of the town had been set apart as a kind of base camp with all houses, some with troops in them. Field kitchens and hutments had been put up for stores etc.
The day after, we set off again to the harbour, this time where we were to embark for France. The crew were washing the decks down and you could see that the troops had had a rough time coming over. These men were either going on leave or slightly wounded. There was half a gale blowing as we went on board. The two destroyers which were to escort were got under way. At last we were off, the destroyers steaming each side of our boat on the look-out for submarines who were always lurking around and who might sink us. The crossing was very rough, with the waves washing overboard. I didn't see a man who was not seasick. Myself, I felt as if I didn't care if I got across or not as I felt too ill. We all had that green look about our faces.
At last we reached Boulogne. We got all lined up on the dockside with our kit bags and full pack which weighed about 80 lbs altogether. At last the crowd of us were on the march to our first camp in France. This camp was made up of hutments where everybody was given blankets and iron rations, this was hard biscuits and bully beef. We had to sleep on the floor with blankets over us which did not smell very nice either. After a cold night, as it had been snowing, we were to start on our journey to Etaples where we were all to start on our hard training to get fit for the fight to come. The train went so slow you could get out and take a look round and then catch it up.
At last we came to Etaples which was like a vast plain with hutments and hospitals. Part of the plain was a large graveyard which reached right down to the seashore at one side. All these men had died of wounds and the thousands of white crosses seemed to stretch for miles. Each man was given blankets again, and told to collect tents and put them up where we were to stay for the next three weeks. It was blowing hard and snowing heavily while we tried to get the tents up. As not many of us had put them up before it was some time before we were finished. Now to get our rifles from the store. They were covered with grease and we had orders to clean them for inspection in the morning. What with the weather and the general state of things my heart was near to breaking. At last we got under our tents, tired out and wishing we were back in our billets in St. Albans where we had been. During the first night nearly all the tents had blown away and we were left wet through and all our kit covered in snow.
There were a few comforts in the camp such as the Church Army and the Salvation Army huts where you could get a cup of tea and cakes cheaply. All the paper you wanted to write home was provided free, which was a blessing as my wages were only three shillings a week. The days were spent in route marching, bombing, bayonet fighting, trench digging etc to get everyone tough. Some nights we went night marching, all the time you could hear the guns in the far distance front line.
One night I was picked out to go on picket duty with a soldier from Portugal into the town. We had to go into the pubs and teashops to see if the troops were behaving themselves. Of course I could not understand my new pal nor could he understand me but after exchanging photos etc we got on well together. During this time I had been transferred from the Royal Sussex to the 4th Middlesex Regiment and had been separated from most of my pals.
After three weeks I, and my new pals, were marched off towards the battlefield. The sound of the guns got louder as we marched through towns and villages and at nights to sleep in old farm buildings or where we could. All the time the weather was very bad and the mud terrible. Now and then a shell from a big gun would be near us. After a time you could get to know how near it was coming by the sound. Some of the big ones sounded like a train coming towards you. As we got nearer the front line the roads were sunken and covered with netting so the German planes could not spot you easily. All along the roads were ambulances and walking wounded coming from the fighting line.
Reaching the City of Arras we were told to find what shelter we could in the ruins to keep out of the snow and cold wind. I know I found some old corrugated tins and put them over an old trench for shelter. The City had been as big as Birmingham, and all the lovely shops and houses had been looted and burnt out. It was an awful sight and worse at night when the flash of the guns showed the ruins up more. The great Cathedral was all in ruins with the gravestones blown in all directions with gaping holes in the tombs. It was while I was here that I fell into the mud up to my waist and had to get some of my mates to get me out. I was a mess. We spent a day or two here having a few narrow escapes from falling buildings and shells. Sometime later I, and a few more chaps, were sent to a big dug out to collect some ammunition. This place was under Vimy Ridge where there had been a lot of heavy fighting. I was glad to get out of there as men were there putting detonators in bombs. Not a very healthy place to be in.
Crossing over some trenches coming out, a German plane fired at us and we had to nip fast into one of our tanks. This was the first and only time I went into one. It was about this time that I found out that I was lousy, watching some men taking off their shirts and other underclothes I saw they were rubbing a lighted cigarette down the seams. Taking off my things I saw I had got plenty of lice myself. All my pals did the same and we ran our cigarettes down the seams as this was the only way to get rid of them. They were there in hundreds and gave me quite a shock. Of course we could not get a change of clothes very often.
At last came the day when I came right into the real thing. I was told to carry some ammunition for some gunners of another regiment, as we were going over the top in the morning. During the night our guns opened up with the worst fire I had ever heard. The air was alive with shells on the way to the German lines; it was like hell let loose. During the night we had a talk from an officer who was going with us, telling us to do our best for England tomorrow, as it was St George's day 23rd April and that all the great deeds in our history had taken place on that day.
"We shall have a great victory" he said, "which will surprise the world. You will not all come back but do your duty, all of you". Then the rum was handed round in mess tins after which you felt warm and didn't care what was going to happen to you. As the dawn came the guns stopped suddenly and over the tops of the trenches we climbed, me with my rifle slung on my back and a box of ammunition in each hand. At once the rat-tat-tat of machine guns started from the Germans and the bullets came, our men falling like nine pins. I dropped to the ground and had to dig myself in with my entrenching tool working myself in like a mole, to escape the bullets.
After a time I found that my eye was bleeding but thought nothing of it, I thought I had got caught on the barbed wire and got scratched. Before long the shells came thick and fast from the German lines. One of them burst at the side of me and gashed my thigh and broke my leg. I started to bleed badly but was able to put a pad over the wound and bind myself up. This made me helpless and I could not go any further except creep about from one shell hole to another trying to find a bit of cover from the terrible shell fire. I had many narrow escapes and only my steel helmet saved my life. All this time it was cold and the shell holes had filled with water. What with mud and blood I was a sorry sight.
All the trees and growing things had been blasted away so the country was just like a vast plain. For hours I lay after throwing all my things away except for my gas mask. My rifle went too, it was of no use to me now. At last things got a bit quiet and in the distance I saw many groups of Germans walking towards our lines. These had been taken prisoner and were disarmed and sent back. I called to two of them, after waving my arms they saw me and came to me. I begged a drink of water as I was near dying for want of it. They then went and found a stretcher and put me on it. I found they were both young men and just in the battle front line for the first time. They could both speak English and one of them had been a barber in London. Although the shells were still falling fast they did not drop me once.
At last we reached the first dressing station. This was a place
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Sidney Tilley (centre)
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dug into the ground and used as a first aid post and to be able to do operations of sorts. There were scores of our men and many Germans, some were wounded very badly and some not so bad. My trousers were cut off and my leg bandaged up, the doctors giving me an injection to stop lockjaw. After having something to eat and drink and having a label put on my tunic I was put into an ambulance with a young officer of the Drake Battalion who had been fighting near us. As the ambulance bumped and nearly threw us out the sound of the guns got quieter and quieter. It was a wonderful feeling to think I should never again go back. My eye was beginning to pain me now and was getting very bad.
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