The War Service of the 1/4 Royal Berkshire Regiment (T. F.) | Page 5

clapping. Sometimes a few
'Little Willies' would strike Anton's Farm, which was included in our
trench line, but no attempt was made to level this valuable ruin, which
concealed patient and boastful snipers. The Warwicks on our left
expiated the sins of the whole Division, and on most days it was
possible to watch with a feeling of complete security a variety of shells
bursting among them a few hundred yards away; while overhead flew
the liberal daily ration expended on the Château de la Hutte on Hill 63
behind. From the lovely garden which surrounded it, luxuriant with
lilac, Judas trees, tamarisk, wygelia and guelder-rose in full bloom, you
could view, like Moses, the unapproachable land of promise, Lille and
Roubaix, lying afar in the plain, with the smoke of enemy activity
rising from their numerous tall chimneys.
We had our little excitements, as on May 9th, when the French attacked
at Souchez, which was long remembered as 'the day of hate.' An
elaborate demonstration was prepared by the brigade, of which the
chief items were the exposure of trench-bridges 'obviously concealed,'
and the firing throughout the day of long bursts of rapid fire. These
interesting devices failed to deceive the enemy, who took little notice
beyond shelling the unhappy Warwicks and the town of Ploegsteert
with unusual severity. My company was in the wood that day in reserve,
and lay about pretending to be in readiness. It was, in fact, the only day
in which we had nothing to do.
We also had our mine, which was exploded opposite the Oxfords after
two false starts with much pomp and ceremony. A green rocket was
sent up one mile west of Ploegsteert 'to deceive the enemy,' as the Staff
memorandum hopefully remarked. Captain Hadden, of the 1st/4th
Oxfords, opposite whose trench the explosion was to occur, was
ordered to keep half his company in the fire trench with the rifles and
bayonets of the other half. These were to be ostentatiously waved

above the parapet. The other half company spent some time marching
up and down the corduroy paths in the wood, that the sound of their
feet might suggest the arrival of large reinforcements. When the
Brigade invited further suggestions of the same deceptive nature
Hadden declared that he indented for magic mirrors à la Maskelyne and
Devant, which would show the Oxfords not only in front but in rear of
their enemy.
There was also the occasion when the gunners promised to destroy a
new work erected by the Huns in front of their lines. They were heavily
handicapped at the outset by the necessity of employing percussion
shrapnel against a strong breastwork. But even when allowances were
made, it seemed unnecessary that their first shell, a premature, should
burst in the trees far behind on the Messines road, that the second
should fall in our trenches, and the third damage our wire. The fourth,
however, it is fair to say, reached if it did not seriously disturb its
objective.
The ground between the lines offered many opportunities for patrolling;
a belt of clover and rank weeds, knee-deep, in which our wire was
enclosed, was succeeded by a deep watery ditch, also festooned with
wire, and, beyond a fringe of willows on the further side, ran a wide
field of rye able to conceal the tallest man. Each side cleared the
ground immediately in front of their wire, and at nights the sickle of the
enemy reaper could be plainly heard cutting swathes. More than once
ambushes were laid in the daytime under cover of the rye, which waited
for an opportunity against him till late at night, but without success.
Lieut. Gathorne-Hardy, who was the pioneer of these daylight patrols,
on one occasion, stayed out from noon till 4 p.m. with his faithful
follower, Sergt. Westall, examining the German wire, for which exploit
the former received the M.C. and the latter the D.C.M. (to which was
added a bar next year during the fighting at Pozières for devotion to the
wounded). Our losses during these ten weeks were very light, but
included Lieut. Ronald Poulton-Palmer, who was shot through the heart
by a random bullet while superintending the building of a dugout just
after midnight, May 4th, 1915. He had been nearly four years with the
Battalion and was greatly beloved by all ranks; as I went down the line

at stand-to that morning many of the men of old F Company, which he
commanded at Chelmsford, were crying. He was the first officer to fall,
and was buried by the Bishop of Pretoria in the Battalion cemetery in
the wood on the east side of the Messines road, about 200 yards short
of Hyde Park Corner.
The actual routine of life in the trenches was pleasant enough.