in trench digging. This exercise completed, we moved to a site on the Downs near Shoreham looking towards Lancing College and Chactonbury Ring. Although we lived in huts, it was a pleasant enough spot in fine weather but became a sea of mud when it rained. We then had to take to gum boots to get about the camp.
In anticipation of future casualties, considerably more officers were posted to Battalions than the normal establishment required, and after we had been in training at Shoreham for some months, it was decided to group together all the supernumerary officers in the Division, of which I was one, and train them seperately, rather on the lines of an O.T.C., except that we were now officers and not cadets. When we had been grouped in this manner, we were sent to Fermoy in Ireland for our further training, where we felt rather bored and isolated, but otherwise not unhappy. One pleasant interlude was a weekend that a small party of us spent in Killarney. While there, we made a trip into the mountains, which must have been organized as we covered a part of the journey riding on donkeys. In the evening we made the return journey by boat, and the waters of the lake at sunset with the mauve-tinted mountains in the background made a scene of beauty that I have always remembered. In connection with this visit to Killarney, I may mention, as an example of the uncertain temperament of the Irish, that when we arrived at Killarney by train there were some boos from a small crowd outside the station, anti-British feeling being fairly strong among certain sections in Southern Ireland at the time. However, when we were leaving the town, a hand was thrust into our railway carriage holding a botle of whisky, which was presented to us with every indication of friendship and gooddwill.
Our training went on without special incident until the early days of 1916, when a notice was received asking for officer volunteers for the recently formed Machine Gun Corps. I volunteered at once without giving the matter a great deal of thought. One reason was that I would have to return to England to take the special course of training required. I see from my Officer's Record of Services - a small dark blue folder fastened with a clip - that I was gazetted to the Machine Gun Corps on the 28th February, 1916, and I proceeded to Grantham, which was the training centre and general depot for the Corps. At Grantham I took a thorough and comprehensive course in the mechanism, the drill and the tactical handling of the Vickers gun, the reliable and efficient weapon with which the Corps was armed. In the earlier years of the War the basic unit of the M.G.C. was the Company, which was divided into four sections, each of which had 4 guns. When the Company was on the march, the guns, ammunition boxes and certain other equipment were packed into limbers and drawn by mules. My Machine Gun Handbook appears to have been lost, and I am not sure how many officers and men made up a Company, but including the Transport there must have been about 200. Officers were mounted, and this was a great asset, as, although we usually marched when the men were marching, we could use our horses for many enjoyable rides about the countryside when we were out at rest. Learning to ride was a not unimportant part of an officer's training, and I am glad to say that I had little difficulty in becoming fairly proficient. This was due to the fact that a when I was quite a a small boy I attended a riding class arranged by Dr. Wilkinson Sr. (father of Dr. Henry Wilkinson) during the summer holidays, and what I learnt then stood me in good stead. When I saw the discomfort suffered by other officers, I felt very grateful to Dr. Wilkinson for what he had taught me.
I never regretted having transferred to the Ma.G.C. In fact I congratulated myself on having done so. We were Brigade troops and took our orders only from Brigade. This meant that we led a more independent existence than the normal infantry battalion, although of course we kept in close touch with the infantry when we were in the line. Altogether 160, 500 officers and men served in the Machine Gun Corps during the War and there were 62,049 casualties. the Corps was disbanded in 1922. It was often said that anything to do with machine guns was dangerous work. In fact, I have heard us referred to as the Suicide Corps, but I doubt whether we ran any more risk than the ordinary infantry officer. If anything, I would say that the reverse was true.
After rather more than 5 months training at Granrham, I was drafted to France, travelling via Southampton - Le Havre on the 9th August, 1916. On arrival I was posted to the 17th Brigade Company, 24th Division. This was a regular Brigade and became, I understood, a part of the 24th Division (a New Army Division) after the batle of Loos. I joined the Company in what was at that time one of the hottest parts of the line - on the Somme between Delville Wood and High Wood. When I arrived, it had been drawn back for a short respite, and I remember that nearly all the men were lying on the ground, sound asleep, wrapped in their waterproof sheets. I remained at Company HQ. for a few days to get adjusted and then was sent up to the front line in charge of a single gun. The dug-out that I was allocated was some distance from the gun team, and I was informed that the best time to visit them was shortly after dawn, when the shelling had usually died down and it was still too dark for movement to be seen. I followed this advice and my visits passed without special incident. On one occassion I returned to my dug-out through Delville Wood, which was then in our hands. There had recently been some shelling and there was a strong smell of cordite in the air. A considerable number of dead were still lying in the wood where they had fallen when the Wood was taken.
I was fortunate in that not long afterwards the Division was withdrawn entirely from the Somme, where it had been heavily engaged, and moved to the Loos sector, which was a much quieter part of the line. One remark that has remained in my mind was made by our O.C. Company, when he said in the Mess one day as we were about to leave the Somme, 'I believe Gilbert quite enjoyed his first tour in the line.' I was very interested, but to say that I enjoyed the experience was not exactly true, although well meant. We remained in the Loos area for the whole of the winter of 1916/17, and during this period were gradually built up and became one of the assault divisions, which meant that plenty of fighting lay before us.
It was a cold winter, but we did not mind this unduly, as in a quiet sector of this kind there was usually a stove to warm your dug-out and it was easier to make your way through the trenches when they were dry and frozen than when they were wet and muddy. It was during this period, while I was out of the line, that I rode my horse to where a civilian photographer was still in business, although not so far really from the front line trenches, and he took my photograph in his courtyard while i was mounted. I still have this picture, which is framed and is standing at present on a chest of drawers in the next room. My horse was quite black and was known as Nigger, a name that had been given him by the grooms. Marjorie used to send him lumps of sugar, which he greatly appreciatted. I lost him unfortunately about nine months after the photo was taken, when a large shell burst near him and he broke away from the groom who was holding him. My guess is that he was found by another unit, who held on to him.
One of our activities, when the line was more or less static, was harrassing fire at night. The Intelligence Officer would send us up map sheets on which were marked supply dumps and other places likely to be frequented by the Germans, and having selected a target we would work out with the aid of instruments the direction and elevation at which the gun should be aimed in accordance with our calculations, and each sentry on duty would fire short bursts at irregular intervals during the night. We hoped thereby to cause the enemy annoyance and perhaps some loss. To hide the gun flashes, we would split open a sandbag, attach it to two sticks on the parapet and fire through it. The Germans, I may say, followed similar tactics, and one night there was an unexpected burst from their lines and a bullet hit one of our gun team in the side. He let out a yell, more of surprise , I think, than of pain, perhaps of both, but he received little sympathy from other members of the team, who while binding up his wound kept on telling him it was a lovely Blighty one meaning of course that it would get him back to England. I was standing beside him on the fire-step when he was hit.
And so the winter months passed, with the inconveniences of trench warfare but with no very outstanding events that i can recall. During the early days of April we were occupying trenches opposite the small mining town of Lievin, which was close to Lens and Loos and was at that time in the hands of the Germans. Towards the middle of the month there was suddenly, one day in the afternoon, I think, a terrific outbreak of gunfire on our immediate right, and evidently a heavy barrage was being put down. this proved to be the Canadians assaulting and capturing Vimy Ridge. Not long afterwards the Germans began to retreat from our front and our Division was soon following them and pressing them hard, not an easy operation as one could not be sure where they intended to make a final stand. It was at about this time that I had about the narrowest escape that I had
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