I never add to this Remembering Them thread but have just been typing up a report of the attack of 2nd Worcesters against Pigeon Ravine in September 1918 for a newsletter and having taken a group to the beautiful cemetery there in the summer, I noted that the attack took place 91 years ago today.
Remembering all men of the battalion who were killed or wounded on that dreadful morning, including all officers who participated and showed such awe-inspiring bravery and leadership. An extract from Stacke’s history gives ample description of the events that day:
At 5.30 a.m. on the 29th September 1918, the guns behind the 33rd Division opened fire and the battle began, the main attack on the right started twenty minutes later. Scrambling out of their trenches the Worcestershire platoons (the two leading companies advanced in deep formation; two platoons in front line, one in support one in reserve. The front line platoons were in extended order) advanced as rapidly as possible through a storm of German shells; but the rain of the previous days had converted the shattered ground into deep mud, and the laden troops could not keep up with the barrage. The British shrapnel burst for a few minutes along the line of the sunken “Gloster Road “ and then moved on down the valley. As soon as the shells ceased to burst over the road the German machine-guns came into action one after another, in all, 7 machine-guns appear to have opened fire from the sunken road and from the Cross-Roads. From the cutting in front and from the Cross-Roads to the right came the hard stammer of their firing, and under the hail of their bullets the attack withered away. Through the smoke of the shell-bursts the platoons in rear saw their comrades in front collapse, but they pushed on in their turn only to meet a like fate. All the platoons of the two leading companies had been shot down and the majority of the two support companies had fallen before the survivors came to a halt half-way to the road and took cover as best they could.
It was not possible to send a message back across that open ground swept by machine-gun fire, and it was not until after 10.0 a.m. that it could definitely be reported that the attack had failed. About that time a merciful mist drifted down and veiled the battlefield. Under cover of that mist the survivors of the attack regained Limerick Trench. German shells were still raining down all around, and a tremendous thunder of gunfire on the right flank told them that the main attack had been opened along the whole front of the Fourth Army.
Throughout the rest of that day shells and bullets struck around the trenches, which the survivors of the Battalion were holding. Orders for a further attack were followed by counter-orders; and the position was unchanged when darkness fell. That night came cheering news. The great attack on the right had been successful. The Bellicourt defences had been stormed, the St. Quentin Canal had been crossed, and the Hindenburg Line was broken.
The fall of the main defences further south entailed the retreat of the enemy in front. Patrols were sent forward before the dawn. They found the sunken road empty save for a few dead. Cautiously they made their way down the valley, reconnoitred “Pigeon Trench” and found it deserted, then pushed on to the bank of the canal beyond. Machine-guns spat at them from the eastern bank; but Ossus and all the ground west of the canal had been evacuated.
Unopposed, Colonel Stoney and the remnants of the Battalion advanced over the battleground. Between “Limerick Trench” and “Gloster Road” were lying the bodies of the brave officers and men who had made the attack. They lay in little groups of crumpled forms, platoon after platoon struck down by the hail of bullets. None had crossed the sunken road.
On the left and closest to the road lay Lieutenant R. K. Wright’s platoon of “C“ Company. In front lay the subaltern, a bomb grasped tightly in his hand: behind him lay his men, all struck down in the moment of charging. “His leading,” recorded the Battalion War Diary, “must have been magnificent.”
To the right and but little further from the enemy position were found 2/Lieutenant G. Lambert’s platoon. They too had all been killed; and they lay, riddled with bullets but still in line facing forward, their dead subaltern a few yards in front.
Further to the right the two leading platoons of “D” Company had closed towards the Cross-Roads, and they lay strewn in a semi-circle as the machine-guns had caught them. “Their position” says the War Diary, “bore witness to the splendid effort they had made to reach their objectives.”
Of the four platoons which had led the attack every officer and man had been killed by the storm of bullets at close range. The ground behind was littered with the dead and wounded of the other platoons who had followed them.
In all 8 officers (Lt. L. E. Ransom, 2/Lts. M. Glynn, J. A. Sudbury, C. E. Neale, G. Lambert, G. E. Woodward, S. Benbow, and Lt. R. K. Wright (Bedfords, attached)) and 80 N.C.O’s. and men had been killed, 3 officers (Lts. F. D. Barnard, H. J. Walford and one attached officer) and 150 men wounded.