Cocks letter diary, 1916-1919 / Verner Cocks - Page 558

[Page 558]

The observing scouts flying backwards and forwards directing the artillery. At 1 o'clock we left the farm and reported to our working base from which we were sent out to bring in the wounded from the old No Man's land. In fact we were carrying   from an aid post in our original front line all the afternoon and night continuously along a road which was thus used the first time for two and a half years. I don't think I ever worked harder in all my life and certainly earned my 6/-. At the end of each journey we were handed out biscuits and coffee (flavoured) provided by the Y.M.C.A. who were attached to our dressing station. Ross Jones was in charge and I saw a lot of him. The road was under fire all the while, but we only lost two men, killed, and they were not bearers. Relieved at midnight and reported back to the base for a sleep and slept one of the best sleeps I have had for many a day in spite of the roar of guns and the fumes of gas shells with which the forest reeked.

8/6/17
After a feed of cocoa and sweet biscuits - for this is all we lived on for a couple of days - thanks to the Y.M.C.A. - we went on duty again at noon and cleared from a R.A.P. established in a shell hole a few hundred yards into the captured territory. Never have I looked upon such a scene of destruction - Fritz's lines  that  were nothing but a mass of shell holes of all sizes up to enormous. Our trench mortars - puddings and pigs, grenades and shells had done their work well. There wasn't a yard between any two holes and no trace of any trench system. A conglomeration of twisted wire, shattered dugouts, corpses, shell cases, nose caps and all kinds and bits of destroyed German war instruments. Machine guns and ammunition, hand grenades, trench mortars, everything in chaos and disruption. However we got a case and carried him in through the rain of schrapnel and didn't stop anything. Went out again in the afternoon had a lively time, but found no wounded - procured a couple of German rifles.

During the afternoon and night Fritz made two counter attacks, but was hopelessly cut up by our barrage. The noisewas tremendous. The scream and burst of shrapnel and high explosive were indistinguishable amongst the crashing and deafening din. At first the time was picked out by a series of smoke bursts, but this, in keeping with the strumming roar, developed into one huge cloud of smoke and dust, and there the fight went on. God only knows the indescribable miseries and agony suffered under the pale of the cloud, and there the infantry stuck to it, and died and even lived - it is unimaginable. Down on the flat we worked up to about 600 yards of the front line and supports. It was impossible for the regimental bearers to bring the wounded out to us until this was over, but they came in later and surprisingly few. The German losses must have been tremendous, for they came over in massed formation, and that barrage of ours was as intense as any before in the war. It was useless to try and talk to one another even by shouting, we had to work by signs.

9/6/17
Am sitting in a shell hole in what was Fritzland waiting for wounded. This is the aid post a fairly large hole, but a little farther back than the other one, the latter being "too hot". The guns are going some and shells are lobbing. We are just to the right of what remains of ... a few walls. The ridge is ours now, but still Fritz favours the "town" with many shells. It is wonderful how quickly the new positions are consolidated, and a bit of order introduced. A system of trenches has been dug and the new position taken up in every department.

It is Dad's birthday and I am quite happy and contented in a shell hole writing up my diary - the sun is shining and I am having a bake. Many happy returns of the day Dad, and to all of us, but not under these conditions. A captured Col. says the way will end next month in our favour.

10/6/17
Last night Fritz made a violent gass shell attack and we spent a sleepless few hours in our masks. The forest reeks with gas and our eyes are very sore. Again in the shell hole - shells passing to and fro above us - aeroplanes reconnoitering above us. Our aircraft are doing wonderful work, flying very low and very daring. Have seen only one enemy machine since the advance, they are being fought behind their own lines - their observation is rendered impossible and their shooting is wide and apparently aimless. Roy Jamieson, Harry Brown, Jack and I form this squad. Later aid post had to be abandoned, Fritz mad it too hot.