Nothing green
was visible anywhere. In fact the land looked as though it had been a
very choppy earth-brown sea suddenly frozen to stillness. Everywhere
was shell-holes, shell-holes, shell-holes--large and small. Only by
careful searching could one ascertain where enemy trenches had been.
Dotted about over this terrain were the Hun "pill-boxes," concrete
shelters in which the enemy had made their last machine gun fight.
Whereas at one time they had been skilfully concealed from view, they
were now standing stark above the ground which had been torn away from
them. Some of the pill-boxes, indeed, had been smashed in by direct hits
from the heavies, so deadly had been our gun fire during those ten days.
The opening of the British offensive had brought bad luck with regard to
weather. The men had gone over in a terrific downpour of rain, so that
all the advantage lay with the defences. The tanks had struggled
wonderfully with the appalling conditions, but the ground was against
them, and most of them were "ditched" before they were knocked out. A
few, however, had got well ahead, until they were out of action, and it
hardly required field glasses to be able to distinguish them within the
enemy's lines, now functioning, by the cruelty of fate, as German
pill-boxes and sniper-posts. Such was the salient in the early days of
September when the 42nd went up to take over the "line."
It was ascertained that we were to relieve the 15th division, a most
excellent division consisting chiefly of highlanders of the New Armies.
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