The Doings of the Fifteenth Infantry Brigade | Page 2

[Footnote 3: 1st Batt. (Lieut.-Col. L. J. Bols, D.S.O.).]
[Footnote 4: 1st Batt. (Lieut.-Col. C. R. Ballard).]
Great waving of handkerchiefs and cheering as we warped slowly out
of Belfast docks at 3 P.M. and moved slowly down the channel.
Aug. 16th.
The weather was beautifully fine on the passage, and on the 16th we all
arrived at our destination.
The Bedfords had arrived on the previous tide to ourselves, and were
already fast alongside the quay. Orders were received from the
Disembarking Officer, and we disembarked and formed up
independently and marched off to Rest Camp No. 8, six miles off on
the hills above Havre.
It had been pouring heavily on shore for two days, though it was quite
fine when we landed; so the ground where we were to encamp was
mostly sopping. It was not easy to find in the dark, especially as the
sketch-maps with which we were provided most distinctly acted up to
their names. Added to these difficulties, a motor-lorry had stuck on the
way up and blocked our transport for the night. I rode ahead alone, but
had immense difficulty in finding the Brigade Headquarters Camp,
which was quite a long way from the other battalion camps. These were
dotted on the open fields at some distance from each other, and pitched
in no particular order, so that by the time I had got my bearings and
brought in the battalions, it was about 11 P.M. There was of course no

baggage, nor anything to sleep on except the bare ground under the
tents, with our saddles for pillows; and as a pleasant excitement nearly
all our horses stampeded about 2 A.M., tore up their picketing-pegs
from the soft ground, and disappeared into the darkness in different
directions.
Aug. 17th.
Daylight, however, brought relief, and a certain amount of our transport;
and all the horses were discovered in course of time and brought back.
Most of the morning was spent, unsuccessfully, in trying to bring up
the remaining transport up a steep and narrow road which was the only
alternative to the blocked one. But some of the horses jibbed, and we
had eventually to give it up and bring up supplies by hand.
The battalions were comfortably settled down under the expectation of
another night there; but at 2.15 P.M. we got orders to move off by train
at night. This we did from three different stations, at times varying
from 12 midnight to 5.45 A.M., having arrived according to order at the
stations four hours previously. This is the French system, allowing four
hours for the entraining of a unit. Although a lot of manhandling had to
be done, and the trucks were not what we had been accustomed to, we
all entrained in about forty minutes, so had any amount of time to
spare.
Silver (my first charger) was very bobbery as usual, and it took a good
half-hour to persuade him to enter his truck. Once in, he slept like a
lamb.
Aug. 18th.
We were comfortable enough, though packed like sardines, and with
three-quarters of an hour's rest at Rouen for coffee, and another rest at
Amiens--where we heard that poor General Grierson, our Corps
Commander, was dead--broke a blood-vessel in the train--we arrived at
Busigny at 2.15 P.M. Here we found Captain Hyslop[5] (Dorsets), who
had been sent ahead from Belfast, and who gave us orders to detrain at
Le Cateau, a few miles farther on. I must say that all these

disembarking and training arrangements were extraordinarily well done,
and reflected great credit on the Allied staffs combined. No hitch, no
fuss, no worry, everybody got their orders in time, and all necessary
arrangements had been carefully thought out beforehand.
[Footnote 5: Hyslop was very severely wounded six days afterwards
and taken prisoner, but exchanged later on.]
We arrived at Le Cateau at 3.10 P.M., and detrained in half an hour,
baggage and all. The battalions marched off to their billets,--Dorsets
and Headquarters to Ors, the other three battalions to Pommereuil: nice
clean little villages both of them.
When about halfway out to Ors--I was riding on ahead of the Brigade
with only Weatherby--we were met by a motor bikist with a cypher
telegram for me. This stumped us completely, as, not yet having
reported to the Division, we had not yet received the local field
cypher-word; so, seeing a car approaching with some "brass hats" in it,
I rode across the road and stopped it, with a view to getting the key. To
my horror, Sir John French and Sir A. Murray descended from the car
and demanded to know why I had stopped them. I explained and
apologised, and they were very pleasant about it; but on looking at the
wire they said that I