Called out at 7 o’clock. Assisted with a case to the 59th bearers. Captain Johnson met me and told me to lie down. Couldn’t find any place to lie. Sat crowded in dugout and had some most welcome tea, bully and biscuits and jam. After the usual delay got a case and carried down to château. Had biscuits, jam and tea. Stayed all afternoon and had bully, biscuits and tea at 5 o’clock. Everybody tired out. I thought I was going to drop first thing, but felt better afterwards. Shoulders, back and feet tired. Everything mud, and in most awful condition. Appalling stench from dead men and horses. Captain Johnson made a speech and thanked us for the manner in which we had done our work in the most difficult circumstances and then asked for volunteers to bring in a few more men. I volunteered. We set out and were shelled terribly. Had marvellous escapes and were struck by pieces of flying mud. Two men of the 59 slightly wounded but we all got clear. Returned to château with no wounded.
Category Archives: 1916
7 July 1916; Friday
Called out of bed at 7 o’clock and told that we should have been on parade at 7. Hurried up, packed our kits†, and grabbed breakfast as best we could – biscuits and tea. Marched up to château1 where we found * bother†. Some very heavy bombardment going on most of the while. * * *. Sat in the ruined château in ruins. Marched up the line. Got lost as usual and squads were hopelessly mixed up. I kept with Paddy Graham and we carried a case along with some regimental bearers. I assisted a man who was suffering from shell shock. Returned and carried a man, he died as I was carrying him. Had violent convulsions, tried to vomit, and then died. Beautiful sunset. Night worse than in nightmare. Rained heavily later. Troops passing up trench made stretcher †pair miss†. Sat down steps on dug out until done. Wet through, cramped and too crowded <to> sleep. Horrible night. Nearly * dead in trench * *.
“Château” and “the ruined château”: very probably Fricourt Château (approximate location shown on map), just north of the village, known to have been ruined by shelling. ↩
6 July 1916; Thursday
[At top of page (pencil very faint) – ] A lot of dead bodies lying about and it was ghastly. Sat in the [continues below date-line – ] mud in our dug out all night. Very cold and legs horribly wet. [Pencil continues very faint; much of the following is surmise constructed around words which can be fairly safely deciphered, aided by ALL’s own free transcription.] Fell in about 7 in the morning and moved across to the village which the men had taken1. Passed more dead and some Germans. Saw a man lying on a heap of dead with the back of his head smashed in and dying. We were shelled on the open road on the way and returning. The squad in front of us had a very narrow escape. We had to forage ourselves for tea and my share was nearly† straight through. Very grateful when we arrived at dressing station. Returned to Albert. Had baths in a bucket. Returned to old billet in the wine shop. Went to bed after tea and after writing home. Heard that both the 57 and 592 had suffered† the loss of one† killed and * *3 injured.
“The village which the men had taken”: possibly La Boisselle. ↩
“57 and 59”: these may have been Field Ambulances; there is a reference on 8 July to “the 59th [what I read as] bearers”. ↩
The shorthand appears to say “ninety four”, but is now too faded to be sure. Ninety four seems too high. ↩
5 July 1916; Wednesday
Got up 8 o’clock. Breakfast and paraded at 9.15. Marched back to trenches. Went up about 12 o’clock. Arrived about 2.30 after being shelled on the way up. Waited a bit and then came down with a walking case. Had some tea. Very heavy shelling on both sides. Turned out bright and fine. Trenches in fearful condition and I was wet through all the way in wading up and down again. Scraped off clay but horribly wet. More bodies in the trench than last time I was up and a bad smell. Man in stretcher squad in front of us lost his nerve for a few minutes but recovered again all right. I felt ever so fit and quite happy. Arrived at dressing station. Was sent back with some walking cases. Got up to the waist in watery mud and took off boots and scraped trousers after getting to the dressing station. Squads formed up again at night and returned about midnight. Went across the open. Had to fall flat several times on account of Germans’ star shells and snipers and * * * [too faint to read].
4 July 1916; Tuesday
Marched off about 2 o’clock. Back to Albert. Received tea at our hospital and then were taken to lie down by wall. Paddy Graham and I went together. It started to rain heavily. We got very wet. Captain Johnson came for us and took us to an old stable. I found a cab and lay curled up in it all night. Trousers wet and ground sheet soaked through. Just took off puttees and boots. Had good feeds of biscuits. Sent field postcard home. Received parcel with some cakes in. Rained heavily most of the day. A lot of men had German helmets. A rat ran up my sleeve as I leaned out of the barn window writing up my diary. Received first wash <and> shave since Friday. Heard that 10 thousand walking and 1 thousand stretcher cases and 80 German cases had been treated at our hospital. Went to bed in a broken down wine shop. Two fellows slept on billiard table. Washed feet in bucket. Slept well. Got *.
3 July 1916; Monday
I fell in with Jolly and other two. Got lost in trench again. Were shelled and had some very near escapes. Jolly and another chap wanted to go back and dump the stretcher. The other men and I won. Found a N.F.1 in a dugout, been there since first charge. Brought him down. Parapet blown in a few yards in front. Very narrow escape. Went back to dugout and waited until bombardment ceased. Brought him down safely. Had to drop out. Fell in again and went up with Sergeant Brown. A lot of wounded and about 70 squads helped. Piles of dead men fearfully mutilated in the trench. Had to step over them with the stretcher. Man on our stretcher had privates shot off. Still advancing slowly. Awful heavy bombardment by our guns. Sergeant More and two privates’ nerve broke down. Received orders to return. Waited until nearly midnight. Lying on the side of the road †commenced first aid for a man with a thumb gone† in his hand. Saw some German prisoners [continued at top of 4 July page – ] Used part of field dressing to bandage man’s hand, injured with explosive dart. Too many things to note.
“N.F.”: Northumberland Fusiliers; the 4 battalions of the Tyneside Irish formed the 102nd Brigade, and the 4 battalions of the Tyneside Scottish formed the 103rd Brigade; these, with the 101st Brigade, formed the 34th Division. The 102nd Brigade was the body specifically designated to capture La Boisselle (see 1 July.) The 102nd and 103rd Brigades sustained higher casualties than any other brigade in the first assault. ↩
2 July 1916; Sunday
Were lost in trench all night. Passed through front line trenches where Cheshires and Welsh1 regiments were waiting to go over the top. After being under fire by a machine gun (and seeing many retreats†) we found our way to the dugout aid post. Germans shelling2, so we had to wait. Finally got a case. Took us until 5 o’clock to get it down through mud and crowded trenches. Had to wait for so long until Germans stopped shelling communication trench. Were nearly down when a regimental stretcher bearer followed us and asked us to go back. 3 went back and took over the stretcher. Lay about most of afternoon very much done up. No regular meals, only snatches of biscuits and cheese. Ordered to fall in at night. Frightened us a bit and Leaky suggested staying back. Orders about 3 o’clock to stand up with gas helmets. Lay down again. Met stretcher squads. Lay on side of trench part of the morning. Very heavy bombardment and fighting in front. Distances confusing.
[This (2 July) and the adjoining pages are very difficult to read. Along the bottom edge of the 2 July page there has been a further line of shorthand, even fainter and more smudged than the rest of these pages. The words “time”, “distance” and “making” may be there, but nothing else can even be guessed.]
ALL’s own records say that the 58th Field Ambulance was in the 57th Brigade. The 9th Cheshires, the 9th Welch and the 9th Royal Welch Fusiliers were also in the 19th Division, but in the 58th Brigade. ↩
“Germans shelling”: whereas the British artillery barrage had as pre-arranged extended its range as soon as the first infantry attack began, so as to leave the first lines of German trenches clear for the British infantry (whose progress, if any, was however much slower than foreseen, thus giving the Germans time to emerge with their machine guns before the British infantry got there), the German artillery fire was concentrated on No Man’s Land as soon as the British infantry entered it. In readiness for this, the German field batteries had delayed firing during the British preliminary barrage, thus escaping observation (and avoiding getting shelled themselves), and reassuring the British Staff that they had been silenced by the British barrage. ↩
1 July 1916; Saturday
Awoke with the cold. Dozed off a few times. About 6 o’clock awoke with tremendous heavy fire and big shells flying overhead1. Watched troops moving up. Had breakfast. Cheese, biscuits and butter and tea. Received orders and then returned to the dugouts. Bombardment continued. Lincolns2 moved off first and captured first line. Reported that desperate fighting is going on and that the 8 Division has lost half of its strength. Watched German aeroplanes being shelled. Batteries behind us pounding away all day. Lay in dugouts all day. Beautiful day. Didn’t wash or shave all day. Used unique latrines. Watched wounded walking and riding back. Turned in about 10 o’clock and immediately received orders to go up. Fell in in 20 minutes and marched off. Sat near the church in Albert about 30 minutes , received shrapnel helmets and then marched off. Terrific bombardment going on and the sky lit up with flares and guns. Left equipment at aid post and marched up trench.
This was of course the start of the battle of the Somme. For those unfamiliar with what happened in the first few days of the battle, I venture to offer a brief outline on this page. ↩
“Lincolns”: these may have been the 2nd Lincolns (in the 8th Division), or more probably the 10th Lincolns (in the 34th Division.) Both these divisions were in III Corps, which in turn was in the 4th Army (under Gen. Rawlinson.) ↩
30 June 1916; Friday
Up at 7 o’clock. Had breakfast up at the field. Noticed how strange it was over to the left peaceful and to the right shells bursting. Received orders that B & C sections are ordered† <to> go up tonight. Paraded in the afternoon with skeleton equipment and received two days’ rations besides emergency rations. Fine night. Handed in pack. Read Bible1 the 23 Psalm and St. John2. Were detailed off in sections, Paddy, Leaky, Duggins and myself. Supper at 8.30. Saw a troop of cavalry go through the village, and then watched some aeroplanes being flushed† out. Decent gramophone playing some Welsh songs. Formed up at 10 o’clock. Marched off in the dark. Carried stretcher with party most of the way. Reminded me of “Invasion of 1910”3. Lay beside a broken down barn for a short time. Arrived reserve trench 12 o’clock.
We still have the morocco-leather pocket Bible, 12cm x 7cm x 2cm, which ALL carried throughout his service. It contains a pressed flower from a French field, and pencilled on the fly-leaf “A Linfoot 64061 RAMC 58th Fd Amb”, and “24 Herrington St, Sunderland, Durham”, with “47 Eldon St, Chester Rd” crossed out. (And in a deeply-regretted piece of vandalism, the title-page records in Biro the Army number, name and home address of the editor of these Diaries, who had this Bible with him during his National Service in Malaya, 1953-54.)
See pictures above. ↩
ALL’s Bible readings for the day: The 23rd Psalm – “The Lord is my sheperd…” – now popular at funerals and; St John’s Gospel – “In the beginning was the Word…”. ↩
The Invasion of 1910 is a 1906 novel written by William Le Queux. Its subject is an imagined war starting with the invasion of England by Germany in 1910. Something in Le Queux’ description of a contemporary war seems to have resonated with ALL’s own experience on this particular evening. See also The Invasion of 1910 and Arthur Linfoot’s Library. ↩
The Invasion of 1910
The Invasion of 1910 is a novel by William Le Queux which originally appeared in serial form in the Daily Mail newspaper from 19 March 1906. It is one of the more famous examples of invasion literature.
The book takes the form of a military history and is centred on an invasion by the Germans, who have managed to land a force on the East Coast of England.
Arthur Linfoot does not record when (or indeed if) he had actually read the book, but he must have been at least familiar with its theme as he wrote, on 30 June 1916 (the eve of the first Somme offensive):
Listened gramophone playing some Welsh songs. Formed up at 10 o’clock. Marched off in the dark. Carried stretcher with party most of the way. Reminded me of “Invasion of 1910”.