1st (South Midland) Brigade RFA (T) 1917-1919

by

Captain F. S. Gedye MC

Introduction

The Gloucestershire Volunteer Artillery became the 1st (South Midland) Brigade RFA (T) on 1 April 1908. During the reorganization, the six batteries in Clifton were reformed into 2, with a thrid in Gloucester. An ammunition column was raised with the surplus officers, NCO’s and men in the proportion of 2/3rds at Bristol and 1/3rd at Gloucester.

In March 1915, a second line unit was formed and designated 2/1 st South Midland Brigade R.F.A. (T.F.), (305 (S. M.) Brigade. R.F.A.), later a third line unit was formed and served with the 3rd Reserve Brigade R.F.A. at Bulford. (306th Bde R.F.A.).

On 17 May 1916, the Brigade became 240 (1/1st. SM) Brigade R.F.A. and the next day, on the 18th, the second line unit became 305 (S. M.) Brigade. R.F.A. 305 Bde RFA was broken up and dispersed on 18 September 1916.

240th Brigade RFA (T), served throughout the First World War, first in France and Belgium and then in Italy.

Principal Events of 1917 – 1919

Entrain for Italy - 13 November 1917

Lt. Col. W. C. E. Rudkin loses the senior officers of the Brigade - 26 November 1917

Action in the mountains - 28 December 1917

In action at last - 1 March 1918

G.H.Q. School and issue of drill and Pith helmets - 30 May 1918

Austrian advance - 15 June 1918

Anti tank Position - 19 July 1918

King of Italy parade - 1 October 1918

Last days of the war - 30 October 1918

The Armistice - 4 November 1918

Demobilisation and formation of cadre, St Vito - 26 November 1918

France

13 November 1917

I must make a few notes tonight, as we have then first definite news of what we have been prepared for, for some days. On Sunday, my leave warrant was sent round for the 11th that is to leave that night and cross on Sunday. Two hours later, I sat in the mess in all the glory of a brand new pair of Harry Halls latest and daintiest line in gent’s breech-wear, (Jodhpurs) waiting for my horse to carry me to the railhead, when the phone buzzed and the Adjutant rang up to know if I was still there. I vehemently assured him I had left some hours previously and was now even taking all known sea-sickness remedies preparatory to crossing the channel but it was useless. All leave was withdrawn and no officers were to proceed on leave that had not been in the country for 18 months since last leave.

This afternoon there was a B.C.'s conference and Lane has just returned with the news. We are being relieved on the 17th and 18th and on the 19th we march to Aubigny and entrain for an entirely unknown destination. In the meantime we are to complete our stores and train as far as we can, for open warfare. Our instructions are that if anyone asks us why we are doing it, we are to state that the Bosche are expected to retire shortly further south. Nothing is known by anyone, but the reduction of kit and general shaping up is to be done by everyone. Of course, everyone mutters with hushed breath "Italy" but other inventive minds counter with Ireland, Soissons and Macedonia. Anyway my leave is "Off," and we are sending away as quickly as possible, all men who have been in the country for 18 months without leave, but we have been warned that we, very possibly, shan't see them again.

17 November 1917

Yesterday was one of those memorable occasions that must be noted. I set out at 9, and rode into Bethune routed Sister Jennings from her lair and we had a cheery little lunch. After that I had a busy rush round doing some shopping I paid the horrible price of 70 francs for a primus stove and returned in the dark, laden with nosebags containing oysters, mushrooms and walnuts for dinner. When I finally reached the mess at 8.45, I found them half way through dinner and Matthews sitting there as cheery and mad as ever. We had been afraid he wouldn't get back to us in time and so we fell into each others arms wept for sheer joy. Wilson (C Battey) was also there and we spent a merry evening. Fisher left for the wagon lines that night and had gone on to billet for our nights halt tomorrow.

21 November 1917

This is being written in the luxurious 1st class carriage of our Italy bound train. We were relieved by the Canadians at 4pm on the 18th and went direct to Cambligneul by motor lorry whence the wagon lines moved this morning. We spent two busy days packing and straightening up and today, we had our definite moving orders and at 1o'clock, Lt. Pepper, with the left section, left the wagon lines and entrained with the H.Q. at Aubigny.

During the afternoon, B and C batteries moved to Tanque and Savy respectively which were there entraining stations. At six fifteen, a thick fine drizzle, and the rest of "that Ack bty" with the Major, Wat, Mat, Fisher, Rook and myself moved off. (Ack was the WWI phonetic for what later became Alpha - "A").

Aubigny was only two miles away and we got there at seven fifteen, part of the column was stopped at the level crossing to let C battery’s train through and I saw old Wilson (C Battery) hunched up in the corner of a first class carriage, reading a magazine and looking very comfy.

We watered the horses and entrained them while the Divisional Ammunition Column (DAC) loaded our vehicles. We finally moved off at eleven or thereabouts everyone having first had a mug of soup and top hole it was to, thick pea with bully and beans rampant. The accommodation for officers is good, one first class carriage between two and the servants have a truck next door.

From here the diary becomes very painfully verbose on the subject of the train journey and afterwards in the description of life in Italy there is a vast amount of thoroughly unimportant detail and vituperation-largely produced, one would imagine by the lack of serious work and possibly an overstrained or under-worked liver.

This diary has already exceeded by a large amount the space I expected it to occupy and therefore I am obliged to exercise the editors merciful privilege of a generous portion of blue pencil, at the same time omitting nothing that will help to give a true picture of the life we lived in those very delightful days but at the same time, trying to cut out the really irrelevant. Even so, there are many weary pages yet to wade through.

The train journey was an extremely delightful experience consisting as it did of a very leisurely ramble through France via the Riviera to Italy.

On the 22nd we passed through Chantilly. Spent a long time skirting around the suburbs of Paris. At 3.45 we passed through Noisy-le Sec and saw the French gendarmes nab a spy as he alighted from the train. The Railway Transport Officer (RTO) told us the line is infested with them, all trying to find out where we are going.

23 November 1917

Mat and I managed to get shaved at a couple of wayside halts between 8 and 9 and at 10.30 we halted at Ville-Franche to water and feed the horses and get bacon cooked for the men. We are now nearing Lyons along the valley of the Saone and it is making us realise, almost for the first time in two years why this country is called La Belle France.

I must tell you how we are messing on the way down, our mess is in the next truck there the batmen live and cook, and of course, our feeding hours are ruled by the halts or slow-downs en route. We are doing very well - I laid in a good store of tinned goods and we vary the 14 days ration of bully and biscuit which we drew, by tins of sardine, steak and grouse pudding, fruit, tomatoes etc. We get out and rush into the truck there we have a table and seats fixed up of packing cases and as the rattling makes conversation almost impossible, we sing instead and very seldom any two are singing the same song so it makes for variety. Our Primus has already proved itself worth many times the 70 francs I gave for it.

11 p.m. We arrived here (Pains, I believe) at 6 p.m. It was not laid down as a halt and none of the old buffers has the slightest idea how long we are halting for. We are rather sorry in a way as we were due at Cannes midday to-morrow and now I’m afraid we shan’t see it by daylight.

24 November 1917

When I woke up at 7 a.m. this morning we were halted at Avigon. From there the scenery has been topping. Just before midday, one silly ass of a driver of mine fell out of his horse-box and was last seen running madly along the line in pursuit of us. An Army Service Corps (ASC) officer gave him a lift and we found him waiting on the platform at Miramas. We got into Marseilles about 8 p.m. and the bay looked perfectly lovely.

25 November 1917

It has been a perfectly wonderful day I woke at 8 just as we were leaving Toulon and all the morning we have been passing through the most glorious country. Lines of hills on both sides, the crests swathed in blue mist, the green of the palm, pines and fruit trees, the red brown soil of the vineyards and here and there brilliant patches of autumn colouring have made a series of unforgettable pictures.

Then at last to the sea at St Raphael and from there the scenery was a dream of perfect delight. We saw Cannes just before daylight turned to moonlight (there was no real dusk). There were a lot of small booths where we halted and I made a lot of useful purchases such as oysters, fresh fish, cooked chicken, nuts etc, which provided us with a six-course dinner which absolutely astounded a French officer we picked up at Cannes and took to Monaco. He pointed out the places of interest to us. Nice, Beaulieu (and the Hotel Bristol built over a tunnel and owned by a Bosch). He said there were 23 hotels in Menton owned by Germans at the outbreak of war, who left at once and resumed their commissions in the German army.

Italy

11 a.m., 26 November 1917

ITALY ! We got to Ventimille at 10.45 last night, and were then told it was 11.45.

Our first Italian halt was at Berdighera just after 12. Mat and I, anxious to record the name of our first halt rushed to the widow and were in the act of writing down "USCITA" (exit) when some instinctive caution made us hesitate lest it should turn out to be something embarrassing - a request not to spit, instead of the name of an Italian town and thus we learnt our first word of Italian on the spot. At 9 a.m. we were at Genoa for 40 minutes and now we are at Arquata.

11.30 p.m. We stopped at Vorghara about 3 and went over to a small bar just outside the station for a entente vermouth. The girl spoke a little English and told us she thought the English were beautiful, but after a glance at the assembled multitudes of her fellow countrymen, we decided this was not a compliment but merely justice!.

27 November 1917

We have spent the entire day wandering round Italy. We haven’t seen an R.T.O. all day and at one halt the stationmaster who, mercifully spoke French, asked us our final destination, as he hadn’t the faintest idea what to do with us. As our destination station is altered at least once a day we couldn’t help him. We are now rushing, apparently aimlessly up a single line to one station, back along another to another station and we are now on a third system at the end of which, Bovolone, our destination station, we believe, is said to be.

28 November 1917

We got to Bovolone, our detraining station at 8 o’clock last night. Detraining was a very slow business as only three trucks could get up to the platform at a time, and after these had been unloaded, the whole train had to be shunted out to get rid of the empty wagons. We found Alex Leslie acting as detraining officer.

He took us in relief’s to an inn near by, where we had an excellent meal of sardines, vegetable soup, savoury rice, veal, cheese and fruit with a very succulent and heady red wine for 5 lire a piece (12½p) This inn was spotless, stone floors, beautifully white cloths, spotless china and crockery and the people beautifully clean.

We finally detrained at one, just an hour less then the previous trains had taken and we turned into beds in an empty but furnished house - a wonderful old affair with stone stairs passages and floors.

We moved off at 9.30 this morning on a four-mile journey just to break in the horses (poor old sods, they were as stiff as pokers last night when we walked them up and down), and are spending to night in Oppeano. The first actual impression of Italian village is very favourable, the streets are very broad and clean and the food, if one only knew how to ask for it, good and very cheap. Today, for instance, we had two excellent chickens for lunch - 9 Lira (a lira is worth about 6d/13p) In France, we should have done well to have got them for 14 francs.

The Italian men are, almost without exception, evil looking, dirty and unshaven and wear very weird kit, but many of the women and girls are very good-looking, some really handsome and all very much more attractive then the average French peasant.

The kits of the Italians are very interesting to us; we have seen very few of the feathered Bersaglieri that one imagines are so plentiful. The majority wear a light blue green uniform with very ugly caps that fit very closely and have a big peak.

On most of the stations there were two or three weird looking fellows with grey felt Napoleon-like hats and dark blue clocks, a sort of guard, evidently (Apologies for my ignorance, O Carabinieri, most attractively garbed of police).

Cloaks are THE things for gents to wear and all the old jigs trot about in tweed homburgs and long dark capes and more ostentatious put a bit of their pet goat or retriever around the collar. Makes them all look like the brigand chorus from the "Maid of the Mountains" and they are a fearsome sight at night.

29 November 1917

We trekked today at 9.30 to Arcole. Tonight I found an A.S.C. Sergeant very much the worst for wear lying in the gutter on my way back to the billet, and as there were a couple of villainous looking old dagos with black cloaks hovering round I turned out the Sergeant of the guard and had him put in the guard room for the night. Our billet is not very pleasant as I found the largest line in "kronks"(?) climbing out of my bed just now and his wife are taking too intelligent an interest in our belongings. We have therefore taken everything to our room for the night and are sleeping on valises on the floor.

4 December 1917

On the 2nd we marched to Pressane, which turned out to be a topping little place. The billet includes two really beautiful daughters, the married one being a French addition of Phyllis Dare. (Edwardian singer/ actress 1890-1975) On the next morning I went forward billeting and over took Ryan, Prideaux and Brooke-Taylor, at 10, we met Morgan at Vincentina Noventa he told us the billeting area allotted to the brigade was the worst he had ever seen and so it turned out to be. After 2.½ hours rushing about, we found a school that would accommodate one battery, 2 farms that would take another: We lumped all the outlaying billets together for the third and for the fourth, the still unreconnoitred area. I drew the latter and only just as the battery was arriving, I did find a farm that was outside the area but offered sufficient accommodation. My vocabulary for billeting consisted of about ten words, the only ones I found useful being "Soldate Inglesce dormiente" (and in light of later knowledge, how the devil those helped, I can’t imagine). It is absolutely unbelievable that they have dumped this brigade down in this country, with a language none of us can speak a word of, and left us without an interpreter and an English-Italian dictionary is unobtainable!

The people of this billet were gentlemen farmers and the family consisted of a white haired mother, the son and his wife and two middle-aged and three youngish women. They were all delightful people and anxious to do all they could for us. We sat by the fire in their kitchen and with the aid of the French-Italian dictionary, my photos of Ypres and Mat’s of this family (which, by the way, has been a huge success at each billet) managed to have a very cheery evening. They described by actions and much derision, the recent actions of the Italians at Caporetto which as far as we could gather, mainly consisted in a dash for the back areas-anyway at one time, the whole family except Mother, were engaged in a panic-stricken rush across the kitchen.

We were convulsed with mirth, yet at the same time as it seemed to be a bit of history of our newly met allies, we tried to preserve a sadly sympathetic demeanour and doubtless succeeded in looking completely paralysing idiots.

Until now we have been moving along the plains but today we crossed some foothills and had some wonderful scenery.

Tonight we have billets in a large semi-furnished vacated mansion just outside Bastia. I went on to make some purchases and struck an old Italian soldier, the living image of Shylock, beard, dirt and all, who had come back from the States and his broken American and fluent Italian were invaluable.

We are frightfully excited tonight as we hear there is a mail up. The worst of this game is we can’t get a mail or a paper, or send post home and we can’t except very occasionally find a soul who knows the language, we feel absolutely cut off from the world. Tonight we have heard guns and seen the flashes so we must be nearing the line.

7 December 1917

We left Bastia on the fifth, and trekked to Veggiano, about six and a half miles from Padova. Yesterday was a rest day and in the afternoon Lane, Matt, Pepper and I went into Padua. It was bitterly cold and we weren’t able to start until just after four. After walking about one and a half miles we were picked up by an Italian Flying Corps lorry. Ye Gods! The speed we went at, we covered the five miles in about six minutes. We missed everything by inches and sometimes a great deal less. People, cattle, Vehicles, signposts and even buildings, wiped the dust off the lorry as we flew past.

Padua is a most interesting place it has a walled city and as soon as we got inside the gates and walked up a street it was just like a scene from Shakespeare bought to real life. The narrow roadway with foot traffic under the archways of overhanging buildings was just like "Act One, Scene One, A Street in Padua". It was all very old and interesting. It was dusk when we arrived so we couldn’t see a lot of the place but we wandered around and under archways and through innumerable squares for an hour, making small purchases and then about 6.45 went and had a nice little dinner for 10 lire apiece. Our horses met us about halfway home (by the way it is quite a science to get out of the place. Every street is so exactly like every other one and all are badly lit with these arched pavements).

This morning I was orderly dog and found it damnably cold, rising 6a.m. we had a two hour trek to Villafranca to-day where we have lines and a billet in a big farm.

9 December 1917

Lane was at brigade yesterday and heard that the Austrians have broken through near Asiago again. This is north and a little west of us. We are waiting here for the situation to develop and under orders to be ready to move at 2 hours notice. A situation report came round from brigade last night which states that a big attack is expected about the 10th and prisoners say that a big gas bombardment will be employed.

There are 46 Austrian and 7 German divisions operating on the Italian front so things look exciting. The nights are frightfully cold now and the Italians seem to have no idea of comfort. Most of the rooms have no fireplaces, coal is unknown and the only fuel we can buy is light wood-willow branches and that type of stuff and they know how to charge for that too. The more luxurious and self-indulgent villagers, when there is a really bitter night, treat themselves to a small earthenware pan of charcoal which gives about 2 candle-power of heat, but the great Majority don’t believe in coddling themselves to this extent.

11 December 1917

We are still at Villaranza Farm, outside Villafranca. I went into Padua with Matt yesterday afternoon and after making sundry small purchases, we had dinner at Storioni’s and left soon after 8 and managed to get out by the same gates as we entered the town by - quite an achievement in a place like Padua.

21 Dec 1917

Still at Villaranza. We were told this morning that we should probably be moving to-morrow and billeting parties have been in readiness to move this afternoon.

We have been able to look around a bit more and observe the habits of the people. They are very unlike the French - the men are a dirty unshaven looking lot of villains but the women are usually spotlessly clean and often very good-looking.

They wear the most extraordinary footgear - wooden slipper with no heels. Whether this is on account of the shortage of leather or some other form of economy, I don’t know, but they look miserable as they slop along these muddy roads with a good layer of mud between stocking and clog, and how they manage to get along without losing the clogs absolutely beats us.

For food, they seem to live on Polenta - a very heavy insipid slodge that is a sort of mixture that would result from a cross between stodgy batter and coarse mealy bread which is made from Maize flour. This and red wine, most of which tastes like cheap vinegar, is their main diet which I suppose they vary occasionally with the poultry and pigs that are kept by every country cottage.

The country just round here is all vineyards and maize fields. The vines grow very differently from those I have seen in France and Switzerland. Here the vines are planted against some small variety of tree; these afterwards turned out to be Almond trees and the picture in spring when the fields for miles were massed with the beautiful pink of the almond blossom was simply delightful] and the leads are trained along wires from tree to tree.

The result of miles of these fields on dead flat country is to make training for field work almost impossible. If we succeed in finding a position, there is no O.P. unless one scales a neighbouring church spire or, if available, a telegraph pole. I hope we shan’t have to fight in this sort of country if we do, the only way we shall know where the enemy is, will be by seeing them enter the field we are in - a most unpleasing thought.

26 December 1917

We had orders at 6 a.m. on the 23rd to move at 11 that morning we were very sick about it as we had just bought our men’s Christmas dinners. The whole move was a typical staff muck-up. We were told we were going to Camisano and just before we there, a message came to say that billeting parties were to go forward to Presina. This was only about 7 kilos from Villafranca but going to via Camisano, we must have done about 15. I drew rather a lucky lot of billets and found a field for the horse lines just as I spotted the Major coming round the corner with the battery.

We had a magnificent billet for the men - a big granary with three floors of big airy rooms and our billet adjoined. It is a big improvement on our last place - quite a nice little room and accommodation for all of us upstairs. On the 24th we made our final arrangements for all the dinners and were lucky to find a ready-made cookhouse - no small consideration when there are 18 turkeys, beef, ham, potatoes and cabbage to cook.

Christmas Day was very cold and sunless. We had a voluntary church parade at 9.30 a.m. and then went over to the gun-park for deficiencies inspection. Stables took up the rest of the morning. At 2.30, the right half battery played the left section and won 2-1 – a very good game I hear.

The officers and Sergeants went out on the famous paper-chase which grew from a mere battery outing to a veritable meet, D battery officers and sergeants joined us, also Ryan and Taynton who rode up just as we were starting off, to wish us all hail.

The four Hares (Lane, Matt, Major Anderson and Brooke-Taylor) had 12 minutes start and then we set off - it was a most sporting course. We went over a few fields and then crossed the Brenta (Graham nearly lost his horse in some soft mud there). And then over some rough country and along an embankment for a mile, over a 2 ft jump where we had to go down a steep embankment and then along a fine stretch of field. So it went on - several times we lost the trail - then a view halloo set us all off again. We crossed the Brenta fives times had about ten Ditch jumps and sundry other excitements.

Unfortunately the paper gave out about halfway and the hares had to wait for us to come up. We finished the course following them and got back about 4.30 having had a most priceless day. The C.O. came to see the start and wished us good hunting and the field looked very well moving off - 8 officers and 24 other ranks.

Then the dinner started at 6 p.m. and they had a tophole spread. Every man had a turkey, ham, and beef dinner followed by Christmas pudding, oranges and walnuts - there was a pint of beer per man also cigars, cigarettes and cocoa. Afterwards, they had a sing-song under the presidency of the sergeant-Major.

The C.O. came in to wish them all a merry Christmas and told them that the Canadian corps was so bucked with the work we did in our month at Vimy that the G.O.C. wrote a letter to Fanshawe, our G.O.C. congratulating him on the great improvements made in the trenches, gun positions and wagon lines.

Lane asked the C.O. to stay to dinner with us in the mess and he was on it like a leach (H.Q. had had their Christmas dinner on the 24th). We had a very excellent little dinner and the C.O. thoroughly enjoyed himself and tactfully left soon after 9.30 p.m.

We then stated carols and joined by D battery officers at about 10, made merry until 12. As the din got rather deafening about halfway through, I endeavoured to control the musical programme but however, when I announced the next item, every one sang the song they liked best and the row increased steadily. Still everyone enjoyed themselves thoroughly and about 12 we went over to D battery mess and had an hour’s gramophone, we turned in at 2 a.m. after our best wartime Christmas.

28 December 1917

An order came round on the 26th to say that B.C.’s and one officer per battery would go with the C.O. on a reconnaissance of the forward area. A typical remark of Rudkin’s was included, "It is suggested that rugs be brought as the lorries will not be steam heated". We set out at 8.30 and rode up to brigade where a light Italian lorry was waiting to take us on. We went through the usual sort of scenery of the plains until we reached Marostica, an intensely interesting old place at the base of the foothills. It is a walled town and the wall is built up to the top of one of the small hills under which nestles the town. From there we took a winding road through the foothills to Monte Canina.

The scenery was really gorgeous - first the small hills through which the road got gradually steeper and more winding until we got to Crosara, a little village at the foot of Caina. We got out there and climbed up a mound about 150ft higher and had a look up one of the valleys, the view was really grand - first, the foothills grass covered and green, and behind them, first the rocky slopes and then the snow-covered peaks.

After that, we went up a petrifying mountain road to Rubbio. It was a succession of hairpin bends with sheer precipices with nothing to stop our little lorry from dashing over the side. At one bend the lorry stopped, and when the engine restarted, the lorry slipped back to about one foot from the sheer edge - most of us fainted.

Rubbio is a picturesque little village of stone hovels at the top of M. Caina which is the lowest of the peaks in the immediate neighbourhood the first real mountain after the foot hills. We passed the snowline about Fontanelle, a village that lies in a pass between four snow-capped giants. When we got to Rubbio, we walked up to the actual summit and looked at the line of trenches allotted to be held by our infantry.

I believe it was made by the Italians and is certainly a magnificent piece of work - 8ft deep and the sides entirely revetted by stones, Not exactly from the fighting point of view - no firestep and in places a lot of dead ground in front. Still, they are very narrow and a protection and the idea is to protect by a line of outposts unless the worst comes by which time no doubt, our people will have made the necessary saps.

The view was fine from there; on the left, Boldo, a big fir covered mountain, a distant snow covered one in the centre and Campolonge, another fir grown height with several houses on it, and then Monte Grappa, the predominating peak, behind it. It was perishingly cold on the top and although a balaclava saved my ears, hands got frozen straight away and after about 5 minutes, I broke down and wept like a child.

The sun came out while we were there and everything looked simply great. It is difficult to understand the methods of fighting in this sort of country. It is absolutely impossible for anything other then pack animals to move off the one or two main roads that run over the mountains and if the road was minded and kept under shrapnel fire, it seems impossible that any advance of any size could take place.

After seeing our line we retired to our lorry for a sandwich lunch.

Morgan suggested to the C.O. that some of us should walk partway down and Rudkin agreed, almost too readily although we didn’t notice that at the time. He told us to walk as far as Tortima or Crosara and he would wait for us. We walked to Tortima and as the C.O. was not there, went on by track to Crosara down the mountain. It was beastly steep and exhausting and took two hours hard work. When we got there, there was no sign of the C.O. with the lorry so, after a two hour wait, as it was already dusk, we decided to lorry-jump.

We got on an Italian lorry that was making for Marostica and had one of the most hair-raising journeys. The method of going round a hair-pin bend was to rush at it at about 45 m.p.h., jam on all brakes just before they got there skid round then dash on again. Lane said that several times the wheel was not more then 6 inches from the edge. At the same time they are marvellous drivers (although they occasionally make a mistake, as lorries testify at the bottom of some ravines). When we got to Marostica, we found there was no chance of getting a lorry to Presina so made for Vicenza the largest town nearby.

None of us are likely to forget how Prideaux trained us all to rush to the middle of the road on seeing an approaching lorry, and, assuming the attitude of mannequins demonstrating how very "directoire" the newest model gown might be, shout with one voice "Vichentza". Once again we struck an Italian lorry and did the 27 Kilos in less then ¾ of an hour. We were rather tickled, during dinner at the thought that three Majors, the Adjutant, one Captain and three senior Subalterns should be lost by the O.C. Brigade.

Wilson and Morgan left early next morning to attend a court martial at 2 p.m., but the rest of us stayed on to do a bit of shopping and got back about 3 p.m. In the meantime there had been terrific excitement at H.Q. The C.O. had made up his mind to let us walk or lorry-jump all the way home and had said to Plowman, who remained in the lorry "that’ll teach these ------- to be so healthy and want to walk". When we failed to report that night, he got the wind up properly and a perfect covey of orderlies were dispatched from H.Q. to batteries to find out if we had returned, then to say that H.Q. was to be notified as soon as we returned, then finally, the next morning, each battery had to send a capable officer with map and compass and the B.C.’s horses to report for instructions - the idea was that they were to act as a sort of search party for the bodies! Wilson got there in time to stop most of the parties, but as he was due for a court martial at 2 p.m., Rudkin had to notify Div Arty that we were all lost and so now the whole affair has become one of the biggest laughs throughout the division.

3 January 1918

Yesterday, the Major, Todd and I went up to the mountains for further reconnaissance. It was bitterly cold until we had passed Marostica and got into the foothills - hoar frost and very thick mist. But as soon as we got into the mountains and above the mist it was glorious.

After leaving the C.O. and lorry at Tortima, Lane, Price and I went on to reconnoitre some battery positions round Rubbio to reconn a retirement track. It was warm as warm as summer and we all sat down round a haystack for lunch. When we got back we found that the plains had had the mist all day and no suggestion of sun.

5 January 1918

To-day I was orderly officer - frightfully cold at early morning stables - the breaking of ice on the water-troughs cracks the ice and your very soul as well - the horses very rarely want a drink, either. In the morning we went out on driving drill.

The owner of the field tried to dissuade us from going over some clover roots that were frozen hard, which Lane wanted to drive over and after trying to argue, Lane, deciding to put his ears back and have a pop at it, said, with many gestures "Signore, er-la- non buone a preseta - pour cavalla" although I couldn’t have done myself, it was such an amazing effort that, regardless of the proximity of the battery, I lay back on my horse and shrieked with laughter. To-morrow we have a brigade church parade with the Div band in attendance.

9 Janauray 1918

We had an order round to say that the C in C (General Plumer) would inspect the 48th D.A. at 3.30 p.m. on Monday, so great was the cleaning and polishing on Monday morning. I was still in bed with a fairly healthy temperature. About 2.30 when the battery turned out , it had been snowing heavily for an hour.

The Major, Pepper and Rook had go up the mountain and point out our positions to the C.R.A., so Watt was in command with Matt and Fisher as his satellites. They waited about ½ mile from the saluting point the snow fairly covering them up and then some time after the hour for the inspection, a captain rolled up in a car to say that "owing to the weather" the inspection would not take place that day.

Owing to the weather! It was all right to turn out all the divisional harness and ruin a weeks work on it to say nothing of the men, but brass on hats is so easily damaged these days. To cheer them up too, the car with the Union Jack rolled past as they were waiting.

The Major’s party had a bad time too. The snow caught them up in the mountains and the lorry had no anti-skid chains. They came back at a snails pace but between Santa Luca and Marostica, they had to jam on the brakes to avoid a lorry in front and the roads were so glassy that the rear of the lorry swung round and finished within a foot of the edge. It was such a near thing that they all made a leap for it. Poor old Wilson who was sitting in front, got out and came round to see if they were all right and got caught between the lorry and another which was coming behind them and skidded onto them - he got rather badly crushed - head cut open and collar bone broken; they got doctors up from Marostica and a stretcher and he has gone to C.C.S. The rest of the party got back at 2 a.m.

10 January 1918

Yesterday was one of the battery’s most historic days.

It snowed hard until midday and at one o’clock orders came in to move to Sandrigo to take part in some tactical exercise on the 10th and 12th. Matthews and 20 men had been inoculated an hour before and I was still in bed and they had to set off 47 men short. The roads were very slippery and as we had only just been issued with frost shoes, most of the horses had only their ordinary shoes.

They left at 3.30 p.m. and soon after, the frost set in very severely and horses, vehicles, and men slipped and slide in all directions. After trying to get along for some hours, they were still only about 3 ½ miles from the wagonline and it got so much worse that Lane went to brigade and was told to turn back.

This they did and finally got back about 5 a.m. As an example of how bad it was, Wat told the BQMS (Frost. J. R.A.) that there would be a rum issue and Frost in bringing round the Service Ration Depot (SRD) jar from the back of the G.S. wagon to the front, fell flat five times. After they had been in about 10 minutes, an orderly arrived from brigade with a message stating, "The C.R.A. orders that you will be clear of Presina by 8.15. horses will be shod with frost nails and B and D battery farriers will give you any assistance you require". Absolutely impossible in any case but with men and horses dead beat, about the last word in orders.

A little later, a note came down to say that B battery would go instead of us, of course they couldn’t get away by 8.15 either - one section was shod by noon and the rest passed up about 5.15.

24 January 1918

On the 17th we went up to Poianella for another tactical exercise. The thaw was just setting in and the roads became almost impassable, but we only stuck one bad bit of road just before Grantorto. We got to Poianella just after 2.

I wrote and told you what a quaint affair it was. The mix-up caused by the enemy wearing soft caps as their sole distinguishing mark from the tin-hatred attackers was one of the most priceless things I’ve heard of - the deploying of a vanguard to capture a strong force of the enemy and surrounding the 5th Sussex Pioneer Battalion assembling for a footer match is worthy of Punch.

27 January 1918

About 2 a.m. on the 26th we had orders to move at 9.30 a.m. to St Georgio in the Bosco area. We finally landed in St Donato a cluster of little hovels on the main road from Cittadella to St Georgio about 2 p.m. . We trekked up to Cittadella and on to Castelfranco, finally landing at a still more paralysing outhouse type of village to-day called Campigo.

We expect to move to our new area near Treviso to-morrow. During the march, General Fanshawe overtook our column and walked along chatting to several men about their life here and asking how their families were getting on at home, enquiring of one man how is wife got on in the food queues. A very charming old man he can be but I didn’t appreciate his presence as we have one unlawful G.S. wagon which I had pinched from a mud-swamp at Ypres and it was loaded with a most outrageous amount of kit and mess crockery that the officers move around with in these days and I thought he might get inquisitive about it.

30 January 1918

Yesterday I rode in to Castelfranco with Matthews to buy things for the mess. It is another little walled town but all the shops are outside the town wall. The place is bombed pretty often like Cittadella and Treviso and the local inhabitants generally clear out about dusk. The place is badly knocked about.

Later...

We arrived to-night about 4 p.m. at Porcellengo, a village a few miles N.W. of Treviso. D and C batteries are also here with B and H.Q. at Castagnole.

4 February 1918

We have settled in here quite comfortably. All the billets are excellent. We are sharing a big house with D battery and have separate messes and three or four bedrooms apiece. On the 31st of January with the usual energy, I arose at 6.45 and rode in to the canteen before brekker to buy mess stuff and superintend purchase for the battery canteen. After brekker I procured enough oil-drums from the A.S.C. in the village to provide ovens for the battery and mess. On the second day here, I rode into Treviso, which is about 6 miles away and is a most depressing place.

It is bombed nearly ever night and is also within gun range. From what I saw of it, it is only slightly damaged but practically all the civilians have cleared out and only about four shops are open so it feels rather like a city of the dead. The streets are absolutely silent and felt horribly cold although it was a glorious afternoon. Water is the great difficulty here. There is practically none at all and so our cleaver staff have billeted four batteries and the crush at watering parades is really chronic.

Practically every night, we have Austriaco planes over bombing Treviso and villages around although they haven’t visited us yet. The Italians have some A.A. guns but putrid searchlights - we have no A.A. and apparently neither of us have any planes that can get up and scrap at night so each battery has to arm the picket with rifles. They have to wake the orderly officer if planes come over and fire in defense of the village, Oh, Futility!

12 February 1918

There has not been a lot to write about lately. I went up with Todd one day to look at the battery positions for one of the reserve lines near Villorba. We are expecting to have orders to start building there very shortly.

We have now had orders to move back to St Brigida to-morrow. It is not far from Campigo where we stayed the other day.

14 February 1918

We arrived at St Brigida yesterday. It isn’t a village only a collection of a few farm buildings mainly filled with refugees – and thousands of children. Our mess is in a poor ramshackle old house in a bare room with a brick floor and plaster walls.

16 February 1918

We have been in our new home at Torreselle for 24 hrs and are feeling quite settled in. Quite good quarters and practically all the horses under cover at night.

18 February 1918

The Major and Wat went up yesterday to calibrate our guns in the line. Todd took them up at 6.30 and the Major motored up. They are attached to the 5th Div while they are up there.

20 February 1918

The Major and Todd got back last night. They had a very successful shoot and found the guns shooting splendidly in fact, they calibrated all six guns in just under a 100 rounds. While they were away, we had instructions to send up a working party to build positions and Matthews has gone up with 25 men to-day. Meanwhile I am left as the only Subaltern in the battery with the pleasant prospect of orderly dog every day.

1 March 1918

In action at last. We had orders to move up from Torreselle at 6 a.m. on the 27th.

The Major and I were bound for the position and Fisher came up to guide the teams back it was a topping morning for the road; a bit cold to start with but about 8.30, it was glorious. We came up through Castagnole and Pozana and got to the wagon lines of B/76 Bde about 11.30. After lunch, the Major took six mounted men up to the position and six of the working party came back.

I set off at 5 with the guns. As the Huns have a nasty habit of coming over in planes at dusk and machine-gunning the traffic, we opened out to a good interval and had some rifles ready for any rash aviator that came to close. I got to the position about 7. Couldn’t see much of it last night but found our quarters quite de luxe. Bar a few men in dugouts, the battery is billeted in big farm called Casa Freschi, just outside Arcole and about 200 yards from the guns. The servants cook and sleep in a big entrance hall affair and we have our mess and bedroom in a room leading out of it. There is a deluxe bath and toilet saloon upstairs.

Yesterday morning I had a look round the position - it is quite excellent - an old Italian 4 gun position in a hedge but the Austrians discovered it and sent over about 20 rounds and rumour has it that the Italians were last seen going at the all out for Padua.

The country here is rather extraordinary - dead flat all round until you get to the Montello, which is a long low mound, rather like a very much elongated Brean Down, two-thirds of which is on this side of the Piave and is held by us and the other third is on the other river bank and is, of course, Austrian. Although far from being a mountain, it overlooks the whole area here; from all positions you can see it and a huge white building at the south of it called San Salvatore. The place has hardly been touched - I was looking at it yesterday and thought I spotted a hole in the roof otherwise it looks perfectly sound. Our heavies are dealing with it on DerTag (the day) I hear. The country is even flatter than Flanders and all the roads near the front have to be screened, sometimes on both sides.

The quiet on this front is simply too amazing for words, for hours on end there isn’t even a rifle shot to be heard and if more then 20 rounds came over it would mean an S.O.S. Our heavies cough up a few weary rounds after breakfast and lunch and the Bosch sends over an occasional round of their combined shrapnel and H.E. 4.2, and generally lands in the middle of an empty field. It is weird stuff - bursts in the air with a white puff and then part goes on and bursts on the ground - H.E. Both bursts look fairly feeble. (HE = high explosive).

4 March 1918

The rain arrived on March 1st detonating the proximity of a British offensive. It really leaves no doubt about the matter at all. The powers above do not work for us in the matter of weather. It has been getting steadily wetter for some days and now the Piave, which could be waded when we came into action, has risen three feet and is swirling down carrying with it the preliminary foundations of the bridges that the R.E.s were preparing for the show. The attack, after several postponements was to have come off at dawn to-morrow but we heard at midday that it has all been postponed.

The barrage, which we worked outlast night was a bit of a brute. The general scheme was that at 7 p.m. on Y night, two battalions were to cross in boats, one at Casa Trentino and the other at the railway bridge and lie under the dam on the other side until Zero hour. They would then advance and capture their objectives.

As soon as they had consolidated these positions and were assembling to push on to their final objectives, a daylight parachute rocket will be sent up which opens disclosing the French flag. As soon as this is seen, the C.R.A. will fix X hour. That is, the moment for our barrage to start to cover the final advance.

This will be recognised by the attackers by the increased rate of fire and each battery will fire one round of percussion before going on to the usual low airbursts. When the final objectives (which are not a mile from the river bank) have been taken, we lay our guns on a S.O.S. line all round the captured ground and our people hold the ground for 8 hours. They then return to our side of the river again. The whole of our show is merely a diversion for an Italian show which is to clear the Austrians from the river bank of the river further south.

It is a big show and on the day, a barrage will open from the Vigor on our left to Venice - a distance of 80 Miles.

That is the scheme as it stands (later postponed) at present. Owing to the extraordinary idea of fixing the offensive at a time when the wet season is, apparently, always in progress here, every stream and ditch is filling rapidly and it looks as though the whole show will definitely be off.

5 March 1918

We were to have relieved another battery to-night on the Montello but very urgent orders arrived just before the teams came up telling us to stand fast. We are now wondering what it all means and whether we go back to France instead of the division we were about to relieve or whether the much-talked of Hun offensive in the west is not coming off and the real show will take place here.

Of this, there have been some vague rumours lately and the Italians are preparing for a big Bosche drive from Lake Garda. The Italians are on the south of this lake but the Austrians hold the northern portion and if they could drive down over the narrow strip of plain and reach Genoa, Italy and all of us would be cut off.

6 March 1918

Major Wilson was struck off the strength a fortnight ago and everyone was hoping that Ryan would get his Majority.

He has thoroughly deserved it - ever since Browne was killed, he has commanded the battery on and off - six months before Wilson came and several times since. Now however, Pridmore, a junior Captain from 241bde has been appointed. Major Pridmore was killed shortly afterwards to be replaced by Major R. A. Corsan.

7 March 1918

This perfectly priceless army of ours has changed its mind again. Last night, we had 24 ammunition wagons and 9 G.S. to clear out the ammunition; they took away 3200 rounds, rather more then half our stock and to-night a paper has come round giving a modified form of the scheme so we shall probably have to get it all up again.

And that after my having to get up at 7 this morning to have the whole battery out camouflaging tracks which were pretty bad on the soft ground. They had to cut about two cartloads of turf and a lot of grass and these with the assistance of Maize stalks, which grow in the majority of the fields round here, hid the worst of the damage. When I broke them off for breakfast there were still some light tracks, hardly enough to cause a rut in the turf but quite enough to look dead white on an aeroplane photograph and give away the position.

I had the brilliant brainwave that if these were brushed over, they would be quite invisible. So, after brekker the battery made unto themselves each man his besom broom and swept the field. The result was pretty effective but they made a quaint picture.

On the 11th, I went on leave with Taynton from Istrana. Leave was quite a long outing from Italy. The train took anything from 5 to 7 days to reach the French coast and during that time you were among four or six officers per carriage doing your own cooking where required and washing was done at odd halts by rushing up to the engine and bribing the driver to give you a bucket-full of hot water from the engine. There was always one halt per day at a station where a camp had been organised to provide one civilised meal. While I was away on this occasion, two divisions were sent back to France, leaving only the 7th, 23rd and ourselves (48th) as a British Force in Italy.

Swapping bully beef for eggs on a leave train
Photo: Corsan family collection

Bully or corned beef had been a staple of a British soldiers's diet from the Boer War in 1899, to the Second World War.

9 April 1918

Returning from leave.

We caught the 6.59 train on sat. from Vicenza to Tavernella and I was lucky enough to spot one of our corporals on the station and he told me our brigade was in the next village, with the aid of a lorry, I arrived at the mess about 9 a.m. and found Matt alone in his glory. The whole D.A. are in the one village, Montecchio Maggiore and is a long straggling affair with a priceless range of billets.

Real spring had arrived since I went on leave and the exercise rides in the morning were glorious - all the young greenery, mingled with the almond blossoms looked delightful. The village is among the foothills and right above the village are two ruined castles which legend ascribes to the families of the Montagues and Capulets. (Romeo and Juliet)

Lane was in command of the brigade and all our other officers are away on sundry jobs so Mat and I are running the battery. On Sunday, there was a Div Arty church parade with the G.O.C. and C.R.A. present. It was followed by a presentation of the Mons medal ribbon by the general who gave a lengthy peroration on the wonderful work of the 1914 heroes. As the majority of those decorated had won it by sitting in Rouen, we were not much impressed - especially as we had three men on parade who had really scrapped, but owing to a muck-up by brigade, were not called out to be decorated.

Yesterday Lane took the B.C’s up by lorry to see how the battery positions were progressing. It was a jolly interesting day. We went up via Vicenza, Thiene and Chiuppano and then, at Caltrano, began to climb the mountains. It was the usual type of winding road, but the scenery was much finer then on the Rubbio road,. We passed into the area of pine forests which was really lovely.

Our position is at Boscon, Just in front of a large quarry and right in a pine forest. A lot of the trees have been cleared away in front and we are virtually in the open and the pits look right down on the Asiago Plateau.

The gunpits are made by cutting down the lighter pine trees and fixing them on to other growing trees to form an overhead framework. Then branches are laid across the top and round the sides which makes a very excellent camouflaged cover. The men are living in rough shacks and we have a big cave in the quarry for shelter in time of need.

14 April 1918

I came up yesterday to spend a couple of nights with Fisher on the position, we lorried up and got here about one. As usual, it was raining - it practically always is up here. You leave the plains in a cloud of dust and get up here to find it either raining or hailing and after spending a day slopping about in the sludge you get back to the plains to find it as dry and dusty as ever. Yesterday afternoon, after looking round the position with Fisher, we went up to an O.P. on Kaberlaba that has a fine view of the plateau from this Western edge of Asiago to Albaredo.

It was most interesting to get a panoramic view of the whole area. This morning we went down to have a look at the road forward, we called in at battalion H.Q. and got a pass to go out in front of our own wire and strolled out into No Mans Land. It is the most amazing thing in the world this war in the mountains. There are a few shell holes and the road is in perfect condition. It is camouflaged up to a certain point by us, then there is a gap about 100 yards and the rest is screened by the Austrians.

We went up to a farmhouse called Bassastoc, which is just this side of the Austrian wire. It is held by them at night or was until a few nights ago but we found it empty when we got there. It was very disappointing as regards view - No Mans Land is a succession of bumps and lumps and there was a little crest in front that prevented our getting a good view.

On the way back with, we meet Major Corsan and Carter who were going about with hands on revolvers as the Company commander told them the Austrians had been mooching about last night. It was really rather funny, because although we had our revolvers, it would have taken at least a minute to get at them and by that time I don’t suppose we should have needed them.

16 April 1918

Got back from the position last night and found the Major back from Brigade and Rook from leave.

We hear officially that we are relieving the 23rd Div, next week. In some ways it won’t be at all a bad game to go into the line again - the 23rd positions are quite good and the scenery priceless. The slopes of the mountains are covered with pines, the ground is very rocky and in most places, moss-covered. The drawbacks are the continual rain and the awful clambering up and down the rocks. Where ever you go it is bound to invite some stiff mountaineering: in fact, in the words of Bairnsfather "It’s too ------- corrugated".

25 April 1918

We left our priceless billet at Montecchio on Monday the 22nd (i.e. the Major, myself and the right half battery) and trekked through Vicenza to a little one-eyed hole called San Rocco. We moved off at 9 next morning to our new wagon-lines at St. Fortunato near Fara. The quarters will be priceless - 2 big huts for the men, a sleeping hut and mess for the officers of the brigade and quite a good pebbly standing for the horses by the river Astico. All the Italian rivers are very broad and consist of a series of streams which, after a rainfall unite and rush down with terrific impetus.

We left next morning for the position at 9.30 in lorries and got covered in dust in the first hour. As we got further up we met the clouds, as usual, and before we got to the position it was hailing in some form. The whole place is pretty cheerless. Our quarters are very extraordinary - the position is about 150 ft below the top of Monte Longabisa and in the midst of the pines. Our hut is built on the ledge of a ravine - to get to it you descend ten deep log steps and along a narrow platform to the hut which is about 20ft by 6ft.

As you walk into it, there is about a yawning ravine about 12 to 15 feet across and at least 100ft deep. The mess is built on the side narrow ledge with a frame work of logs and the ravine side is walled with split logs. The other side is neat rock and it is roofed with red tiles. The whole thing is a triumph of Italian building but looks and, at first feels, most uncanny. The whole place leaks abominably. The tiles are badly laid and far from waterproof, snow, hail and rain pour down the rock side and the place is filthily cold and draughty.

Fisher and I are sleeping in a little hole in the rock off the mess which also leaks badly - in fact the floor of our bedroom has a hole about 2ft deep and the water that drops from the roof onto the Macintosh sheet which covers my valise drains down on to the ground, into this hole and provides us with washing water.

It hailed solid all yesterday afternoon and snowed all night. This morning after breakfast, the sun came out and the general view was priceless; but it is simply beastly to be back in winter conditions again in the line with day O.P., and night O.P. and Liaison three nights out of four. Already we are fed up to the neck, with the Asiago Plateau, it is an amazingly cold, wet and cheerless place.

26 April 1918

My turn for the O.P. this morning and I left the battery at 7 a.m.

Snow is about 6 inches deep and still falling intermittently mingled with sleet and hail. The O.P. is a hole in a trench covered with two sheets of corrugated iron which drip continually and it is unpleasantly cold sitting still in gumboots. At the moment it is sleeting and the Plateau is obscured by mists and clouds. Our zone is left of Asiago in the neighbourhood of Roana and the view be interesting if one could look at it in anything like comfort.

The cave leaked such bucketsful on to my bed that I cleared out the last night and slept in the mess and it was a vast improvement. Poor old Matt had a putrid night last night at Group Night O.P. - 7p.m. to 7 a.m. in an open trench with absolutely no cover and it rained without pause until 3a.m.

We have a working party on it to-day - the people we relieve seem to have no idea of how not to do things. We have never taken over worse quarters, worse registrations and worse general arrangements. And it all looks like sheer incapacity, as we are steadily setting in and making everything quite reasonably comfortable.

1 May 1918

Last night I was at night O.P. on Kaberlaba and it was the first fine day since we came up here. I was in great luck for although it got very cold, it remained dry - no small consideration when you spend half the night in an open trench looking out and the rest under three sheets of corrugated iron in the same trench.

Dawn was a very fine sight - the snowy mountains that lie beyond the western end of the plateau and are I believe, the Dolomites, were lit up by the still invisible sun to a wonderful shade of rose which was well set off by the dark green of the fir trees.

I have had a dull job the last two days, finding out what each gun can fire, owing to being in the midst of a forest, although we have cut down some of the trees, we can’t cut down the lot, and consequently we have to be awfully careful that the guns are not pointing actually at the tree trunks.

3 May 1918

Yesterday we had first experience of being shelled in the forest and quite nasty it was to. Several pieces of shrapnel pattered down on our roof and a fuze landed at the top of our steps. We saw a lot of branches come down as we looked out of our window and were real glad when our heavies got on to him and shut him up.

4 May 1918

It’s beastly late - in fact 12.15 a.m. to-morrow, but I must make a note of one or two things.

First a most priceless aeroplane show I saw from the O.P. just after 2, three aeroplane's came round the corner from Kaberlaba spur not more than 100 ft up and skimmed over the Hun lines. they then flew to the Val d’Assa, a ravine like pass that runs from the Plateau right back through the Austrian Mountains. They drooped a couple of bombs on a battery position near it, flew up the valley and dropped some more and then came back machine-gunning trenches and roads.

The whole thing didn’t take more then 4 minutes but the Austrians never fired a round. I’ve never seen anything like it and the background of towering mountains made it all the more spectacular.

The 7th Div on our left were down to do show to-night and the hour of it was to be sent in the mystic code "The car will call for you at …".

I was speaking to brigade after dinner and asked casually if they knew what time the car was calling for the Major, the padre, who was on the other end asked Rudkin who in his priceless way said "Oh, the Prince of Wales hasn’t made up his mind yet."

The sequel took place about half an hour ago when brigade had me out of bed twice with utterly unimportant messages. Lane was also rather fed up and so decided to counter attack and sent through to the Adjutant, "Please don’t bother to send the car I’d rather walk". Five minutes later the reply came back "The Prince of Wales will be delighted to hear it". By the way, the Prince of Wales passed our position a couple of days ago.

7 May 1918

Rain has set in again and it is coming down cats and dogs. Wattie came up from the W.L. to look round and stayed the night so we were a cheery little party of five.

There is a great deal of talk of the offensive coming off shortly. Its objectives are I believe The Plateau and the first line of mountains beyond. As the weather has broken again, it is very likely to come of soon and as usual, we are advertising our intentions well in advance; the heavies are crumping daily and we are wire cutting.

The Italians did a rather priceless thing the other day, brought up a heavy gun on a railway mounting from Vicenza, which took two days and then found it had been brought up back to front and had to take it all the way down and about-turn it.

13 May 1918

We are really having a very easy time of it at the moment orders for the show are coming in steadily. We shall move on May 27/18.

27 May 1918

We completed the relief and lorried down to the W.L. on the 22nd. The heat down there was very great after the mountains. In the evening we lorried into Thiene for dinner - a merry little party of seven.

On the 23rd, we set out at 8 a.m. and trekked to our first halt, a big field near Novoleco. It was terrifically hot and dusty on the road and we were glad to get there although there was a great scarcity of shade.

The next morning we moved of at 4 a.m. in the pre-dawn for out billets in the Montecchio area. We had a good trek - glorious weather and delightfully cool until about 8.30. The scenery was wonderful and the whole country is absolutely transformed since we were last on the Plains.

Our billet was at a big farm called Oltr’Agno, about 2 miles out of Montecchio.

We only had one night there and moved off at 9 a.m. for the school. (Gunnery H. Q. School at Palazzo Forte, Montemerlo). Glow worms and fire flies made their appearance after dusk and sleeping in a tent in the evening and wandering about this delightful country in the cool of the evening was a delightful experience.

We had a jolly good turn out and the battery looked well as it moved out.

Prideaux came to see us off and some of brigade H.Q. staff came to wish us luck as we passed. It was a perfect night and about 10.30 p.m. it was as bright as day. It was comfortably cool on the road and practically no traffic or dust.

We stopped about 1a.m., just outside of Vicenza for water and feed and we had cocoa and biscuits. The sensation of trekking along the silent roads on these cool nights after hot and trying days is rather wonderful. There is the jangle of harness, the delicious odour of wheels on the gravel and overall the delicious odour of horse mingling with the fragrant night air. The general effect is one of silence or at any rate isolation and you go slowly along the road wrapped up in the most pleasant thoughts without a care on your mind.

This trek became bit monotonous though about 4 a.m. and by 6.30 a.m. when we reached our resting place Longare, we were all very sleepy.

The worst of horses in this hot weather is they have to be watered about every two hours and it means continual parades for the men. We arranged to move on for the school at 6 a.m. and once again although there had been a lot of work and very little sleep, the harness looked perfect.

This time our luck was utterly out, it started to rain just as we set out and developed into a series of heavy thunderstorms that lasted through our three hours on the road. Result - everyone soaked through and the harness ruined.

When we got in, it was more or less dark and the accommodation regards horses and harness, very indifferent.

30 May 1918

We heard on the evening of the 28th that we were to be relieved here on the 31st by the 106th battery, 7th Div. It really is a damnable shame that the staff should work with absolutely no consideration for the units.

We have had four days of hot, tiring trek down here and long hours of cleaning up to be ready for the re-opening of the school next Monday and now the whole thing is washed out and we have to trek back into action.

We are all feeling absolutely fed up, not only at missing what should have been a very delightful month, but at this eternal messing about and muddling that is part and parcel of the British Staff.

6 June 1918

We left the school at 8.45 a.m. on the 31st. it was the first really fine day since we had arrived there and the day before, every man had been issued with the new drill jacket and pith helmet. When we arrived on parade at 8.15, it really looked jolly smart.

The gunpark was in a big field and all the harness was in priceless condition and the sunshine showed the whole turn-out up to the best advantage.

My section was in the rear on the march and as I watched the battery move out in column of route, I nearly forgot myself and shouted "Ooray" - it looked such a ripping good show. We had to halt for water and feed and arrived in Vicenza about 4.30 p.m. The horses were put on lines in a street just outside the old walls of the city and we had a billet next door to the Hotel Roma.

During the evening, which Matt, Little and myself made into quite a historic occasion, we met a very interesting Yank officer who is attached to the Italian army. We taught him quite a lot, or at least he said we did. The next morning, I set off at 6.30 a.m. to come up in advance to the position and have a look round. The guns are only about ½ mile from our first position in the mountains.

The Major of this bty is Abell, whom we have met up here before. The officers quarters, which I arrived at first, are very comfortable. I sleep very soundly in a wood-sided cubical on a wire-mattress and the mess which is at one end of the same hut, is quite baronial.

The draw back is that there are rather a lot of duties. Owing to the fact that the guns are about 800 yards from the mess, one officer has to stay on the position and sleep there: we have to man the O.P. all day from dawn to dusk, liaison comes every other night and night O.P. every sixth. Not really very strenuous but not quite so good as the wonderful convenience of the last. The night O.P. and Liaison are both nearly an hour’s walk away downhill (which means a beastly trudge back at the end of work).

The O.P. is marvellous - perched at the top of the three very tall fir trees and nearly at the top of the mountain. A wonderful view but give me terra firma when the wind blows. I believe it is perfectly safe - the Italians generally make a good job of these things but there are horrible creaks and groans during a storm. I had an amusing day there today. The Bosche had left a motor lorry on the road nearly out of our range and I spent a happy half hour trying to do it a bit of no good.

10 June 1918

It has been rather interesting day. Yesterday, an Italian battery up by our detached section, about 5000 yards away, went out (came out of action). Their guns were prehistoric weapons - without buffers and muzzle-loaders. To-day another battery came in (or tried to) with fairly modern guns (105mm). They arrived about 8.30 and camped outside our mess. About 3 this afternoon, they started to get the guns up the steep rough track that leads up to the position.

They had 8 horse teams of poor little thin beasts that, incidentally, had not had their harness off or been watered since they arrived. The row as each gun moved off was simply deafening. The officer in charge yelled out "Avanti, Presto" and every gunner instantly burst into shrieks and yells as he pulled on the dragrope; the drivers joined in at the same time lashing and spurring and the poor little horses either leapt forward or back as their degree of fright affected them. By 8.00 p.m. they had the four guns as far as out battery position (The easiest part of the journey) and then they called a halt. The other event of the day was a rather successful shoot by Lane on a motor lorry which ended in setting the lorry and a dump of ammunition on fire. The finale was the explosion of the lorry which was scattered to the four winds of Heaven and ended, like the hoss shay in a cloud of smoke.

13 June 1918

I am now perched in the tree O. P. that we use for the night work. It is rather a unique place on the top of Monte Lemerle. It is built between three trees and has a little flight of steps leading to a small platform and finally, at the top to the O.P. itself, there is also a reception-cum-boudoir hut at the bottom. Lamerle has a broad belt of absolutely dead fir trees from the summit down the northern slope towards Bosche land. History states it is the result of the Austrian attack in 1915, when apparently there was a bluggy (bloody) fight here.

There are rumours of the much-delayed and mucked-up show coming off soon in a moderated form. Anyway the 7th, whom we relieved 10 days ago are up in action in forward positions and we expect orders to move in to ours any day.

17 June 1918

June 15th 1918. is a day we shall remember all our lives. On the evening of the 14th, we had a chit from Brigade to say that the Austrian offensive was opening the following day. Rather a disturbing message but there had been a previous false alarm in March, so after seeing all was in readiness, we turned in as usual. Little was on duty at the battery. Rook at liaison and the Major and I at the mess hut.

At 3a.m., the Austrians opened up and in 2 minutes the air was thick with shells. We hopped into gumboots and I slipped into breeches and a British warm over my pajamas and taking tin hat, smoke helmet and gas suit, we set off for the battery. It was a very bad journey - 800 yards of stiff uphill track and shells were simply raining over - a certain amount of gas with the H.E.

When we had got about 100 yards on our journey, a hut which contained a petrol dump about 300 yards away blazed up lighting up the whole area. Half asleep, with gas tickling our throats, we staggered up the slope and got to the guns absolutely whacked.

All communication was cut in the first five minutes so we hadn’t the remotest idea what was going on and could only keep a sharp look-out for the S.O.S. rocket. Meanwhile, the Hun was keeping up a very heavy bombardment of our whole area. Bar cross roads and roads, no particular targets seemed to be engaged, but the whole was a gigantic area strafe with every caliber and with assorted H.E. and gas shell. A bombardment in these district is pretty beastly; in addition to the shell fragments, there are falling trees and lumps of boulder flying about and the row of the explosion is magnified.

There was a thick mist hanging over the whole Plateau which lasted until 10, so we sent every man except one per gun pit into the dugouts and kept a sharp look-out for the S.O.S. rockets. The Major went up to the O.P. about 7, although it was impossible to see anything.

About 8, I went down to the hut for a shave and Webb gave me some breakfast. It was fairly quite down there, but as I came back, they reopened on the track and I had to beat it into the wood on one side and scramble up over the rocks to the position.

From there, I went on to the O.P. about 10 to relieve the Major. I stayed there the rest of the day, resolutely declining to be relieved - it was far too interesting, and had a most amazing day. Soon after the Major left the mist cleared and I saw some Austrians get out of their lines. I got to what I estimated as to companies and did them a bit of no good. From then on there were targets practically the whole day parties of Bosche in no mans land, batteries in action in or near the trenches, on roads - in fact he seemed to have got guns everywhere and plenty within range.

One position I cleared the gunners out of - they rushed into dugouts in the railway embankment. After an hour they came back and I cleared them out again. This time they cleared right away and didn’t return. Nearly all our batteries couldn’t keep communications with their O.P. ]s owing to the bombardment and those like ourselves who had only a short line had more than we could tackle.

The Bosche came over in bigger numbers about 4 p.m. and I got splendid targets as they came over and as they, later, went back. Meanwhile, the heaviest shelling subsided about 11, although a good lot came over during the afternoon and evening.

From my tree O.P. I saw the terrific effect of their 17.inch bursts. They were shelling the road in front and below us and after some of the bursts, I saw as many as three fir trees spinning in the air at one time in addition to huge lumps of rock.

Our telephonists were simply magnificent all day. They were out repairing wires for 21 hours right through the shelling and they kept the O.P. wire going all day and the visual station to Brigade.

When I took over from Lane in the morning the Hun had just removed one rung from our tree ladder and all day one had the Bairnsfather feeling that if another and more successful round came "How the H - - L are we going to get down?"

Our only casualties were five men wounded in the mule wagon-line close to the mess.

The general events of the day were that the bosches got into our front line about 8.30 a.m. In the Cesuna area on our left flank, he penetrated about a 1000 yards on a 2 ½ kilo front, but by the morning of the 16th, our front and outpost lines were restored.

Our [A bty] position is rather along way back for a field battery - about 3000 yards from our own front line - so we were miles out of the way of the Austrians but some of the batteries who had moved forward to their forward positions for our offensive, had an exciting time. ‘C’ battery had to take their breech blocks and clear out and help the infantry man in the support line.

When they got back to their guns yesterday morning (16th) they found the Austrians had not scuppered them, but an Austrian had turned in with his boots on, in Leslie’s flea bag and put on a pair of his socks, leaving his own behind.

‘D’ battery under Graham (Major Anderson was wounded early in the morning) took on the Bosches in the open with open sights at 700 yards. Not bad for a howitzer battery. As far as we can find out the bosches got it hot here. We took over 400 prisoners and the area in front is strewn with their dead. In addition to some M.G s, we have captured three small mountain Howitzers. A captured dispatch-box, revealed a map accurately marking, among others, all the 240 Bde positions, also a paper showing their first day’s objectives were Montes Lemerle and Kaberlaba. Altogether they had a damn bad day of it - of course, we had a lot casualties, but summing up the whole affair, the balance will be well in our favour. But I have no desire to face another hurricane bombardment in the mountains. There is a nasty feeling of hell about it.

23 June 1918

Everything is still fairly quite although there is rumours that the Bosche is preparing for another smack here.

Poor old Fanshawe has gone home over this job. One of battalions was absolutely caught napping on the day of the show. He has had the division practically from the time it first went overseas and there is no doubt his is the credit for a lot of the reputation that the 48th has. He worked his division hard, but not harder then he worked himself, and the old man was a familiar sight in the trenches at all hours, complete with chocolate and soup squares, which he used to distribute if he went home to a meal earlier then he expected. The whole division was proud of the old fireater and he was a very fine, type of British Regular soldier. Major-General R. Fanshawe, C.B., D.S.O..

28 June 1918

Firstly, Colonel Rudkin has gone - ostensibly on a month’s leave, but we hope and believe, for good and thus goes one of the most amazing characters we have met in the war. It is an almost impossible task to criticise him. Brilliantly quick and perhaps Also, very clever, he was entirely inefficient, he has inspired many stories that have gone the round of the division, in which he was a universally known figure - How else, for no two officers of the brigade could be together without some new exploit of his being discussed.

Just one story must be related to show his very unorthodox method of conversation. Just after pith helmets were issued (and the effect on almost any well known face was not as a rule very becoming) Will Todd heard someone shouting "Hi" several times very loudly, from a car. Not thinking it could be intended to attract his attention in the summary way he did not at first turn round but finally, seeing no one else about he stalked up to the car with much outraged dignity to find Rudkin ensconced therein "Oh Todd, its you is it" he remarked adding quickly "I did not recognise you, you look such a damn fool in that hat!" His successor, Col Russel, is an awfully nice fellow and from what we have seen so far, a capable one.

There was a small raid by the 7th Div at Canove two nights ago in which we took part, 5 prisoners and over 30 killed, mainly by our barrage. The raiders casualties were two slightly wounded - not even hospital cases.

The 48th D.A. were covering the 7th infantry and they simply overwhelmed us with compliments. The Infantry Brigadier paid a special visit to the C.O. to tell him that the barrage was perfect. The O.C. raiding party’s expression was "Every round was in the right place".

The 7th Div C.R.A. sent a signed letter to each battery taking part in the show to say the barrage came down at 11.30 to the second and lifted exactly to programme. The raiders found over 30 killed a wounded by the artillery fire and the accuracy and steadiness of the barrage put great confidence into many of the party who had not gone in under barrage fire before. Very nice of another division to go out of it’s way to acknowledge our work.

We have just heard the sad news we are moving out of here to-morrow, the 30th and July 1st and exchanging positions with the 7th D.A., who are coming back to cover their own infantry. It is very sickening the just as we get towards the end of work on a position, we are moved. We shall be attached to the 23rd Div (with whom we don’t get on to well or didn’t under Rudkin) and our position which is further right than we have been before is probably only half built.

29 June 1918

The war is operating again. I had just turned in at 11 p.m. in preparation for the usual early morning O.P., when Morgan rang up to say some urgent orders were on their way round. I knew there would be no peace so I lay in bed till they arrived - they consisted of orders for a "Chinese Barrage" at 4.20 a.m. i.e. a barrage to simulate an infantry attack to detract attention from a show further on our right. Also a mysterious screed saying that, owing to the revelations of a deserter, a state of readiness was to be maintained. Stand-to before dawn and all that sort of thing.

I think it quite likely that the old Hun, is rather expected to attack at dawn in the morning and as he has done a lot of registering this evening, it sounds possible. We hope not, of course, but if he feels he must ‘ave it,’ why, the sooner the better. Anyway if he does choose the anniversary of the Somme, we hope to give him worse time then we had on the day of disasters. Anyway we have a little show on at 1.15 a.m. that is calculated to do him a bit of no good and for the rest we can but wait and see.

5 July 1918

July 1st, or Wind-Up Day, is happily past. Entirely thanks to some half-baked deserter, who said the offensive would probably be resumed between June 28th and July 1st, the British (and I dare say the others as well) staff rushing in circles, saying "man all O.P’s and liaison for 24 hours - man battery positions night and day - and if you still have any officers left who are not working 24 hours a day, make the them do something and keep on the alert for 24 hours".

This we accordingly did and I went at 1.15 a.m. on the 1st to our O.P. in the midst of a colossal thunderstorm and hailstorm in inky darkness to observe the effect of the Italian searchlight playing on Canove after our 20 minute barrage, which started at 1.15. Naturally it was too wet and misty; I saw nothing.

On the night of the 1st/2nd, I was at our night O.P. and had a fairly good time considering. It was quite warm and clear and the Italian searchlight played on roads and tracks every hour which showed them up wonderfully clearly. Then at 1.30 a.m., the Div on our right did a raid which made quite a pretty firework display.

On the 2nd/3rd, I was at liaison with a very weird crowd of the 7th Division.

Another battalion was doing a raid on their front at 2 a.m. but the whole H.Q. retired to rest at 10.30 p.m. and took no interest in the show whatever. Of course, after three broken nights, I was far from complaining but I was rather surprised at the Battn Commander doing it. It really is a rotten walk back to the battery from Liaison. After having slept in your clothes (and since June 15, boots as well) you get up feeling dirty and unshaven and have an hours trudge back uphill to the position, well hung with smoke helmet, revolver, glasses map case, etc, on the proverbial empty stomach.

8 July 1918

On the 4th, Matt and I moved to our new section position which is on Malga Passa about 1000 yards from the front line. It’s not much of a position and once again we are bothered with fir trees which make the firing very difficult. The two of us man the O.P. all day and do night O.P. every third night so there isn’t much time for looking after the position.

The outgoing battery left the ammunition in a disgraceful state - practically nothing cleaned, sorted or even under cover and we have got a big piece of work in hand. The C.R.A., I.E.F. is a very fine gunner and General but has a kink on the subject of ammunition and I expect a stormy time if he comes before it is put right, but I am prepared for him with figures and details of what we have done since we came in and if he doesn’t have something nice to say before he goes he’ll be a proper swine.

Our O.P. is fortunately only 5 minutes from the position and we manage to relive one another at mealtimes.

Our staff is surely the most credulous in the world. Officers leave was stopped because some mangy Hun said the offensive was about to be resumed. Well, the other day, another deserter came in who said that numbers of others would desert if our continual gunfire ceased occasionally. Result - a silent period was ordered - and commenced the night before last. As no deserters have yet come in it is being prolonged for another 24 hours.

The deadly silence both day and night is absolutely uncanny yesterday the Hun got so nervy about it that he put over quite a lot of stuff early in the day, but finding we were not retaliating, he shut-up and has evidently decided to be thankful for the temporary respite. But for the fact that we still have to man O.P’s it would be very delightful for us. The effects are rather quaint though the infantry, who generally curse us for stirring up trouble have the wind up to the back teeth ever since we shut-up and spend most of their time standing-to for a raid.

I have just heard that I may be getting a week’s leave at Sermione soon - it is a little place on Lake Garda that has been made an officer’s rest camp. I shan’t lose any sleep if I miss it though. Life is quite interesting here and we find it a pleasant change to be our own O.C.‘s

10 July 1918

Just had a message from Brigade to say that Sermione is Nahpoo (not on) for "'Lieutenant Gedge" - he is bearing up under the staggering blow.

I was at the O.P. this afternoon when a terrific thunderstorm started and our trench O.P. leaked the devil. I stood dodging the drips for about an hour, when a wonderful thing happened - group rang up to say I could "come in".

This is the 102 Brigade, who are extraordinarily considerate - our own brigade might have expressed formal regret to my B.C. had I been drowned in our O.P., but consider the personal comfort of a mere subaltern - well, I hope they know more about war than that!

15 July 1918

Spending another night at the O.P. I have just relieved my feelings by writing in a letter to the Adjutant reporting on the state of the O.P. It really is disgusting - the floor is a mixture of wet slime, old sand bags and tins, there isn’t so much as a box to suit on, and the smell is putrescent.

I saw Alec Lee just as I got here; he was on his way to dine with a B.C. who used to be his O/C.

I had quite an exciting day yesterday - twice while I was at the O.P. they shelled that part of the trench and cleared me out. Of course we thoroughly deserved it - the whole trench is stiff with artillery and infantry O.P’s and the trench is very exposed with everyone observing over the top.

As if that weren’t enough, we get coveys of brass hats who come and wave maps about on top and point down with walking sticks and shriek "Oh yes, there’s Asiago".

In the code of the moment, we are not allowed to refer to the Austrian’s fearsome 17 inch gun by name , but have to refer to "Beetle". Hayley arrived at the O.P. the other morning looking a little wan and I enquired what was wrong and he said in a most pathetic way "Why, I was only just sitting down to my breakfast, when Beetle came and settled on me".

18 July 1918

We are probably moving the section in a few days. The C.O. has chosen a silent position for defense which is at the top of the hill from our O.P. The guns will on the fringe of the wood just out of sight of the Bosche although with out flash-cover. They will not fire except in an Austrian offensive, but if the Bosches get out in the open, they would be manhandled about 100 yards forward and use open sights.

In addition to that Matt and I have to take under our wing a position for an Anti-tank gun down in front of Kaberlaba which the pioneers are building. As this can only be worked on at night, and we have to go down most nights to see things are going on correctly, the C.O. is going to take us off night O.P. and we are frightfully bucked about it.

19 July 1918

Matthews and I visited the anti-tank position last night. We had a further proof of the C.O.’s commonsense when we looked in at H.Q. on the way down. He explained the orders we had received. He thinks, as is obvious to any practical mind that tanks are utterly unlikely in this very rocky country but orders are orders.

The position is in an old disused trench on a forward spur and very close to the front line.

The staff have ordered 1000 rounds per gun, but as he says it’s absurd to imaging a gun could fire so many from such a position. We should be marvelously lucky to fire as much as 100, and he quaintly added "They’ve got a fetish about 1000 rds so I propose to play the idiot-boys, and you will arrange for 200 rds and if anyone asks you about it, say you are arranging to put the rest in the wood".

21 July 1918

The tank gun position is getting on well. I also reconnoitered and found an excellent track to get the guns in by.

To-day we had a good job on - getting two guns up to the “silent section” position. It was up a very heavy and steep track but we had a party from a neighbouring battery for one this morning and 20 infantry for the other to-night which went up in fine style.

We’ve had a good example of the commonsense the army cultivates. When I got up to the O.P. yesterday I thought I spotted a big dump of ammunition at Ebene Cross Roads. The light was tricky so I left it till Matt came up at 9 a. m. and he confirmed it.

A six inch battery observe from our trench by day and we asked their subaltern to take it on. (Matt and I have become absolute experts on this zone now and the Bosche can’t scratch the ground with a pick without our spotting it at dawn next morning and including it in our situation report).

He rang up for permission to shoot on it and was told by his group that he couldn’t fire on it unless there was movement. We were very sick at this and rang up Tidy at Brigade and he finally got the heavies on about 2, They got a hit on both piles and put one up which flared and burnt out. The bigger one didn’t burn and remained undamaged, so later in the day we rang up the 4.5s and they fired but never hit it at all.

We were absolutely disgusted and thought it was sure to be cleared that night, but to our amazement it was still bigger this morning and I rang up Todd again and the 4.5s were turned on it and got one good hit which caused a small explosion but the main part of the dump remains intact to-night.

Two whole days and every 6 inch battery in the district is itching to do it in and not allowed to do so because of some hide-bound rule about movement. And yet they are ordered to fire hundreds of round firing on suspected positions and yet when we find them an absolute cert, they are not allowed to fire.

24 July 1918

Paid a joint visit with Matt to the anti-tank position last night. The pioneers really have made a good job of it and I will try to give you some idea of it. It is an old disused Austrian trench on the forward slop of Kaberlaba, about 200 yards behind the front line. Kaberlaba, is on the treeless heights here - at present the grass is about two feet high on it’s slopes. This old trench is only about 2ft deep anywhere, and the soil is very usual one for this district - alternate layers more or less, of flat chalkstones and earth. The appearance of the trench before they started was a very white parapet, a brown and white surface to the bottom of the trench and a green parados fairly well sprinkled with chalk stones.

The first thing the pioneers had to do was to dig down to about 3 ft 6 in and make a platform for the gun so that the muzzle would be just clear of the ground level. The bed for the trail had to be dug two feet into the parados.

When we went down last night (incidentally I had paid a 4.30 a.m. visit from night O.P. that morning) we found the gun-emplacements themselves practically completed, the platforms of small logs closely fitted together being camouflage with chalkstones - the trail bed for which the rear of the trench had been cut back in a semicircle of about 3ft radius had a false surface of wirenetting threaded with dyed raffia that made it absolutely invisible from a few yards distance. The parapet, where the gun muzzle will be was built up for about 9 inches or a foot - just enough to hide the muzzle from ground observation - with a false parapet of chalkstones that could be knocked over in two shakes if the gun had to come into action.

Matt is taking down 400 rounds H.E. by pack mule to-night and I do the same tomorrow also one gun, and he takes in the second gun the following night.

29 July 1918

We took the two guns from the section position here down to the anti-tank position last night. We pulled them out of the pits about 7, and they were manhandled down the hill to the road where two eight-mule teams took them to a point just off the road where Matt and I who cut across country met them and guided them in. We had to pass through three belts of wire and two trenches in the support line system which the Pioneers had filled in or opened up for us as the case might be, we got in very easily and took the teams right up to the trench where we had a party of 18 men ready to manhandle them in.

Then we had to cut lengths of wire netting to cover the guns, partly to conceal the outline but also to prevent a dark shadow on the trench. We then sprinkled some white chalkstone and tufts of grass of harmonise with the general surroundings. We tied canvas on the wheel rims to prevent the sun glinting on the iron tyres, we also camouflaged the mule tracks by throwing white chalkstone over the more noticeable places and had finished about 1 a.m. and the whole thing is I think a good imitation of invisibility. The C.O. went down just before dawn and thought it quite a good effect.

2 August 1918

Yesterday we brought the guns back to the main position at Cima Del Porco.

Matt and I lorry-jumped to Granezza and had glorious baths before we toiled up to the position. It’s a terrific climb up a very rocky footpath like the side of a house to get here but absolutely ideal when you do. It is about 6000 yards from the Bosche line from the guns which are just below the summit of "old pokehole". They are on leveled platforms with ammunition racks at the side. There has been plenty of R.E. material available and the men are very comfortably housed and the general show is very good.

Our mess is in a Nissan hut about 100 yards behind the guns. It is lined throughout with green canvas and is curtained off half-way for a bedroom. It is in a dell that is free from trees and it is very delightful to sit in the mess and look out on grass for a change instead of rocks and fir trees. The whole mountainside is covered with all sorts and varieties of wild flowers. From the top of the mountain not far from the mess we can look over the plains and see Venice in the distance.

We do very little firing from the position owing to our enormous range so life is really ideal. The C.O. told us the other day that the anti-tank position is absolutely invisible on an aeroplane photograph. A plane took one before we started work there and another after we had finished and it was impossible to spot anything on it, in fact when Division sent in the photos, they asked him to mark the two guns on the map as they couldn’t even see a track.

4 August 1918

I was cast for Liaison last night and all day O.P. to-day, our position is so far in the rear and the climb home so beastly, that we have all voted in favour of getting through as many duties as possible once we are down here. I reported to Brigade on the way down and the C.O. told me that there might be a raid on the Villa Dal Brun, a house in no mans land, during the night.

The previous night the French had done a dam' good raid capturing 119 men and an Austrian Colonel and this miserable old devil had blabbed that they were going to do a raid on Villa Dal Brun as they thought we had a post there. He said that it was to take place on the night of the 2/4th and that 200 Sturmtruppen were coming up to do it.

At 11.30 the Bosche put down a barrage and at 11.35, in response to a red verey light (pre-arranged signal with the patrol that was out looking for the Bosche) our S.O.S. was put down. The whole thing died down about 12 and our patrols could find no trace of the Bosche, but from a prisoner since captured it appears that 70 Storm troops came over. As their artillery were firing short, they fired a red verey light as a signal to the S.O.S., I guess they wished they hadn’t. Their casualties were 16 killed and 36 wounded. Not too bad for their first stunt since June 15th.

8 August 1918 - 2a.m.

In my old friend Rosso, the night O.P. once more. It is a fine dry night the dugout with it’s boarded floor, bunk, and table is quite comfortable and a wood fire in the brazier takes away the damp smell. My fellow night workers owe me a debt of gratitude for the virulent letter I sent in about it, finishing repulsive account of the filth of the place by saying, "at present, the smell in the dugout is such that the open trench is the only possible place in which to spend the night".

This morning the mountains north of the Plateau had a thin covering of snow on them - a very sinister sight.

Some half-baked deserter has come in and said that the Bosche is preparing to retire to a line that he is making about 2000 yards in the rear of his present one at the foot of his mountains. If he does go back, we are sure to be fools enough to go forward and occupy the ground that we have steadily crumped since March and is in a horrible state. We should then hold Asiago and one or two rotten little flattened villages that are perfectly valueless and suffer from all the evils of having our ground overlooked that the Hun has had all this year.

11 August 1918

Quite a lot of doings to record. On the night of the 8/9th there was a big raid by our division and the 7th on our left. One whole battalion and two companies from each division entered the lines at eight different points. Our division captured 145 prisoners and a couple of Machine guns - the 7th got over 200, including 7 officers 4 trench mortars, some machine guns, a searchlight and a complete ration party including 5 mules and a fat Quartermaster-Sergt.

Our people found a lot of pack ponies and four Mountain Hows in a quarry which they couldn’t get away so they had to shoot the ponies and bomb the guns - great pity.

I was taking the shoot from the battery and the guns opened beautifully to the second with a terrific crack. The Huns were terrified and shoved up every sort of verey light he had, but his batteries couldn’t do much - our heavies were attending to them.

The 6 inch batteries each had four hostile battery positions as targets and to each they gave 40 gas shells per hour.

On the night of the 9/10th we repeated our bombardment on a smaller scale and the French sent 6 companies over on Sisemol and fairly swiped them again bringing back about 250 prisoners, trench mortars and machine guns. The poor old Hun has been suffering from Vento Verticale ever since.

14 August 1918

I went down to the wagonlines for the day and had quite a good time. Little is down there working like a Trojan and as cheery as ever.

The Plains are looking absolutely lovely. It was rather hot and dusty, but not as bad as I had expected.

16 August 1918

Just in from an expedition to pick wildflowers for the mess and strawberries which are quite numerous.

Walker, the new G.O.C. came round to make our acquaintance to-day and gave each officer his ration handshake, he is giving one to each officer in the division but if you had one you can’t have a second and he makes most careful enquiries to know if he has seen you before he makes the bestowal. He knows dam-all about guns and appears to care less.

20 August 1918

G.H.Q. has gone mad again. Absolutely raving this time! It is on the question of the Bosche retirement. The Bosche has very evidently had enough of the Asiago side of the plateau and is very busy making a new line at the foot of his side of the plateau to which he equally undoubtedly intends to retire when it is completed.

Frank and I know about this reserve line because we have watched the progress on it day by day and have, from aeroplane photos sketched it on our map. I was pointing the whole thing out to the C.O. just before this latest freak of disordered minds came round.

At present, the line is only just scratched out i.e. the top layer of turf removed along the line and in places he has dug it a foot or more deep and stakes and wire are being rapidly put out, but he hasn’t got cover for a man yet no dugouts at all.

But, of course, G.H.Q. doesn’t know this or what the line looks like - they live at Lugo down on the foothills and as the mountains are not transparent and the journey up here to see for themselves is obviously too ridiculously uncomfortable they believe anything that any semi-intelligent deserter likes to tell them. And one came in the other night and said they were likely to retire to this line any night now.

So G.H.Q. has ordered all batteries to fill forward positions with ammunition, 600 rounds per gun for us. Our position is where the section used to be, and only five days ago we finished clearing the last of the 7000 odd rounds away and now we are busily taking up 3600 to the racks we have just cleared. Still, c’est la guerre and if we are doing are best to lengthen it out here, they are undoubtedly shortening it in France and I suppose in the end it will get straightened out.

21 August 1918

I am at Pria dell’Acque waiting for the lorry to take me back to the position and in an extremely bad temper. It was due at 7 a.m. and I arose at 6.30 to meet it and now at 8.45 I am still waiting. But for the really appalling walk back to the battery I should have given up an hour ago. I left the battery at 5.30 yesterday morning so I really do feel very strongly about it.

Later.

Morgan rang up as I was writing a message full of sweet human sympathy, told me, that me the dam’ thing had broken down so there was nothing for it but to set out on the weary four mile trudge back to the battery - all uphill and with the paralysing "O track" at the end of it. So I set off muttering fearful imprecations.

My telephonists, realising with infinite tact that this was no time for bright chat, followed about 100 yards to the rear. I got back to brekker about 10.15 a.m. , and Webb saved the situation by realising that this was a two-eggs morning and no questions asked and after a cold bath I had completely cooled down.

The O.P. was more amusing than usual yesterday, from 8.30 till 11, the heavies bumped the Hun trenches from Asiago to Canove with huge vigour, frightful waste of ammunition of course, but pleasing to the eye.

As usual our trench was stiff with Staff-head and shoulders over the parapet with lovely white maps and bright red tabs and glistening gold braid. How we love them when they come to advertise our trench, and then go and leave us the shelling that naturally follows.

Then later Brook-Taylor came up and did his best to push a house over later again in the day, Cotter asked me to carry on the good work with their guns and we had two absolute beauties right through the roof.

I don’t think I have mentioned how awfully well our guns are shooting now. Of course, all our targets are at very big ranges - Nothing except S.O.S. lines are under 6000. Owing to the barometer being so low in the mountains, the amount we have to drop from the actual map range varies between 250 and 300 yards, so that we can fire at great ranges.

The other evening at the O.P., Todd rang me up and asked me to observe a few rds on the datum point - a wonderful result at that range.

We had another good instance to-day. If an aeroplane gets a good moving target, they send a wireless call which is repeated to all batteries and every gun that can get onto the map reference, fires so many rounds. The great point is to get the guns fired very quickly and in order to speed things up, there is a system of test aeroplane calls known as "X X Calls".T hese may come from a plane, Div Arty, or Brigade and on receipt, each gun fires a round of gunfire. We have been having a few rehearsals up here lately without actually firing the guns, but taking the time of each detachment and then checking the line. To-day, after checking, we rang up the O.P. and asked the officer there to observe. We fired one round from each gun (we only had 5 guns in action). and the O.P. reported four direct hits, The target was a house on the outskirts of Asiago and the range was 6750 yards.

22 August 1918

A gorgeous day and hot enough for the plains. I’m on battery duty which means practically nothing after the 8.45 a. m. parade and subsequent walk round the guns, huts, etc. We have been doing well on the wild strawberries lately - each day we have been getting ¾ to a 1lb - all beautifully ripe and some quite large ones.

I can hardly believe we have been close on a month up here and then one compares it with last August at Ypres and 1916 on the Somme, it comes back to you once again what a wonderful time we are having and have had in Italy. And if a lot of our work here is an utter waste of time, we can’t be blamed for that and anyway, we have seen a fair amount of the other sort of war and anytime they like to send us back, we’re quite ready for it.

26 August 1918

I spent last night at my old friend Rosso (the trench) The Italian battery that is attached to our group man it at night now. Exactly why, I can’t imagine, an N.C.O. is there and from what I can see of it, his job is to spend most of the night with his back towards the enemy and occasionally vary the monotony by ringing up his battery and shouting out a few "Pronto’s" or reporting a "batteria ennemica" about which he can know very little. I turned in at the battery about 10 a.m. and didn’t wake till 3. At 5, I took three watches to brigade to synchronise for the big raid that is coming off at 10.40. A three-hour walk is quite enough too, to do for the purpose of getting the right time.

25 August 1918

Yesterday morning Matt was playing the gramophone on the grass just outside our hut and a crowd of Italian tommies came round to listen. Two of them spoke Anglo-Yank and were delighted with the Lee White records - "Don’t Blame Me" etc. Ping-pong is a great hit, we have constructed some racquets of thin wood that are a great success.

"Wind" still continues to be vertical with the heads of the various forces here. They believe the Bosche is going back at any moment, but they seem absolutely unable to decide whether to push him a lot further back than he means to go, leave him to go back in his own time and follow him up, or simply to stay where we are. This morning, there is a "deliberate destructive bombardment going on". How the powers love these high-sounding phrases and how senseless they are if you stop to analyse them. By the way, Todd was doing a shoot yesterday and ordered one gun to fire four rounds and each round was a direct hit. (the No3/ layer of the gun was very good).

27 August 1918

There was a big raid last night on the same lines as that on the 8/9th only larger. We had two battalions over, the Bucks and 4th Berks, they captured 210 prisoners including one officer. Our casualties were rather heavy - 12 officers and 100 O.Rs.

28 August 1918

I have just been talking with Flint of B battery at the O.P. he went over with the Berks on the 26th. He says that a few of the Bosches put up a fight but not many. They had got wind of the show and were waiting for us but the barrage didn’t give them much chance. He said the field guns opened beautifully, with one crack.

29 August 1918

I spent the night with the 6th Glosters and had quite a good time. Their C.O. Col Schomberg, is an absolute topper. They had a couple of small raids last night, one at 10 and another at 11.40. Owing to a box-up, the first was cancelled at 9.45, when the infantry were already lying out for our barrage to open up. The other was quite a small one and successful and we had a letter from the C.O. thanking us for what he called "a perfect little barrage"

6 September 1918

I am down in the W.L. and have been here since the 31st; I am just beginning to get accustomed to the life - it is nearly a year since I was down on my own with the battery in action. We are still at Preara a sort of postage stamp size of village. My sleeping quarters are in a tent in a vineyard garden and I have a room in the cottage to mess in.

The daily routine at the wagonline at present consists of early - morning stables at 6 a.m. Inspection parade followed by grooming at 9, harness cleaning at 10.30 (by which time it is grillingly hot) water and feed at 12; harness cleaning again in the afternoon, which I generally use for odd jobs, censoring letters, writing to the guns, etc, 4.45 evening stables and 8 o’clock, guard and picquet.

We have a fair amount to get through here, every other night we have to send up nine four horse teams to the mountains which leave at six and don’t get back till about 10 a.m. the following morning. It is hard pulling for the old hairies and they simply love their rolling in the sandbath when they get back.

The "Back to France" rumour is stronger than ever but as far as we are concerned, has no foundation in fact.

I don’t think any of us really care a cuss one way or the other though. We either get decently and comfortably frozen to death in Italy (A very painful end for me.) or frighten to death very uncomfortably in France, and as we’ve all died that way so often, there doesn’t seem much to it.

19 September 1918

I had a horse that died of sand-colic to-night. The poor old devil had been quantities of it and his gut was full of the stuff - "like a bit of the sea-side" as one driver remarked during the post mortem.

I take out a short exercise ride every morning at 6.15 now; the best time of the day bar, possibly; 10 p.m. - beautifully clean and fresh and cool. The days remain very hot and dusty.

20 Sept 1918

Heard from the Major to-day that the battery is moving to another position - one of the 7th Divisional positions.

23 September 1918

We played C/103 at rugger last night and it really was a very successful evening. Some little time ago during a relief of our division by theirs (the 23rd). There was a rather unpleasant row with C/103; they, with ample justification accused us of trying to pinch one of their officers horses. (This was entirely unknown to the officers mess until after it was all over, but it occurred and there was a proper row).

Strangely enough the very officer whose horse was in question, came over, with the teams last night. We fed them afterwards and did them proud and really did bury the hatchet with much success.

"Vino" is in full swing here now and the grapes in my billet garden are being picked and vinoed with huge vigour. I’ve drunk my last glass of it too! What you read in books and see in picture brochures (picshures) is all gospel truth. All the grapes, stems, insects and all, are put in huge vats, and then the dirtiest local inhabitant rolls up his breeks (trousers), slings off his heels slippers, hops in, and squashes the mess. After he has stamped it all into a fine mess, the tap is removed and the juice is poured through a strainer into other tubs and left to ferment.

1 October 1918

On the 25th, we had a screed in to say that the King of Italy’s review would be held on the 29th, and that the 48th would provide one 18 pounder battery, each 18 pdr bty’s in the two brigades providing one subsection. I was detailed as one of the section commanders; of course, from that time on, life was one ghastly rush. We had two rehearsals in a field about 4 miles away - we had to pick our teams, select the harness and men all in about 5 minutes.

We trekked to Nove, a village near Marostica, at 8.30 on Saturday. There is a very fine aerodrome there, which was used for the review, otherwise it is a one-eyed hole.

I went in advance to meet the G.H.Q. Staff Captain for billets. The battery arrived about one and the whole brigade went straight into the aerodrome for a rehearsal which was rather boring and lasted till 4. The rain came down in floods again just as we got to our field and hastened up the bivouacking no end. Our harness came for the review came by lorry and was so saved from ruin.

The Major in command of the battery for the two days was a pukkah swine who entirely spoilt any fun we might have got out of the show. He is one of that loathsome type who went sick before the Somme show in 1916, piled up seniority, and now comes out, never having smelt war, to tell us that his cadets of 18 and 19 could lick us into a coked hat for efficiency. I realised after about three minutes of his company that we should have a row and was careful to leave him no chance to pick holes in my work going so far as to take a chaff-cutter and a clipping machine to Nove with me for final touches.

I dealt with him to my entire satisfaction over the billeting too, I knew he was expecting a room in the village and so I told the Staff Capt when I arrived, and told him in such a tactful way that I knew whoever else got a billet in that most overcrowded village, my B.C. would not be among the number. And so it turned out; after cursing me roundly, he rode off to find a billet for himself and returned very crestfallen an hour later, muttering that the Staff Captain was inefficient and a bounder. I who had informed the rest of the mess of my action, held a reception in my tent afterwards to receive the thanks of my fellow subalterns.

On the day of the show, I clicked for orderly dog. The review was timed for 3.30 but we had to be on parade at 1.30.

The turnout was really beautiful. All the harness was perfectly polished and every link burnished, also all the steel-work on the wagons. Even Saunders, the B.C. had to say on parade that the turn-out reflected the greatest credit on every officer, N.C.O, and man. When we got to our place on the review ground, we cleaned the wagons again, rubbed over all the harness, polished the men’s boots, oiled the horses hoofs and then sat down to wait for His Maj. The parade was in three huge lines; first, infantry French, English and Italian and an Italian mountain Mule battery, then Field Artillery, English, French, and Italian and the last line, Italian heavies, motor transport etc.

We (The British) were apparently the only people who thought it necessary to be in spotless review order the French and Italians were in their familiar state of dirt - the harness the same old mixture of rust, worn-out leather and string.

The French battery next to us thought the whole a huge joke and were frightfully tickled to see our final clean-up taking place. After watching us for a time, even that ceased to amuse and they retire to the rear and opening an ammunition wagon, took out a huge flask of vino, and proceeded to have a good swig.

When the King arrived, he walked down each line of troops, as he came from the front line towards the British Artillery Brigade our band struck up God Save the King, and all officers stood at the salute.

When he got to the French, their band struck up the Marseillaise, and the Iti’s came out with the Marcia Reale. Cavan and the Prince of Wales were in the vast crowd that followed him around.

Then he went back the Grand Stand and presented medals and finally everyone marched past first the infantry followed by the British Artillery, then the French, then the Italians. We went past at the trot, bumping saddle in the good old style.

One of the best shows of the day was a battery of Italian horse - gunners who went past at the gallop in magnificent dressing and style. The Italians are always have a lot of thoroughbred horses and this particular unit had a great lot of nags and the speed at which they passed the stand in a swirl of dust was very fine. We finally got away at 5.30 and returned to our wagon lines next day.

Letter of Appreciation

Major General Sir Harold Bridgwood Walker, KCB, KCMG, DSO, cammander of 48th division wrote a letter to the Division thanking them for the parade:

48th Div.
A.1729.

I desire to express my gratification at the excellent manner in which the troops of the 48th Division marched past to-day in the review by His Majesty the King Of Italy, and the smart appearance of men, horses and vehicles.

A / Battery, 241 Bde. R.F.A., marched past well and their teams and guns were very clean and smartly turned out.

The composite Infantry brigade of 1/6th R. War. R., 1/7th Worc. R., and the 1/4th Bucks. R., commanded by Brig-Genl. H.R. Done D.S.O., would compare favourably as regards smartness, regularity in the march past, and general physique. With any other Brigade in the theatre of war.

The 475th Fd. Co. R.E. and the composite company of Company of the battalion of the M. G. Corps were a credit to their respective Units and the Train wagons and teams were beautifully turned our.

Everything pointed to great care and zeal on the part of all concerned in preparation, and fully realise the amount of labour and time spent by officers and others ranks under no means advantageous conditions.

It speaks much for the Esprit de Corps and the soldierly spirit prevailing all units of his division that, after so many years of war, every one should have 'Played the game so wel'’ and I request that my thanks and appreciation may be fully promulgated.

27th November, 1918.
H. B. Walker, Major-General.
Commanding 48th Division.

10 October 1918

On the 10th October, I went to the artillery school at Padua for a course, to my everlasting sorrow, for the final drama of the war was produced during that time. I have no very efficient record of those times but the following notes from my diary while at the school will give some idea of the excitement that we all felt.

29 Oct 1918

We are getting rather bored with this life and still have another 10 days to go through. Things are happening in Italy once again, which makes it worse still.

The 48th are still up in the mountains, but the other two divisions have been on the plains for about 6 weeks and both are in the new show on the Piave. All the officers on the course belonging to those divisions have been recalled and Hayley and I have written to our batteries to tell them we are only waiting for a wire to rush back too.

The news to-night is rather amazing. We are stated to be in Conegliano. Which is miles behind the Piave and our troops are in Asiago. It looks unpleasantly as though the 48th will stay on the Plateau for the present, which will be damnably cold and uninteresting. Still, things may improve - The division may relieve one of the pushing divisions down here, or leave re-open, or peace be declared, or something really original like that, in which case we shall, with any luck go back west and finish the jolly old show job there, in the spring.

30 October 1918

An unexpected and very pleasing development took place afternoon. The course has to close and we all return to our units to-morrow.

The Austrianco is simply bunking on the Piave, and it is only a question of days before he chucks in. We have heard to-night that Turkey has chucked in and that the Emperor Karl has fled to Hungary. The Czechs and several other mixed breeds have all bagged a town and declared it to be the capital of their country on the "where I eats I sleep" principle as far as one can gather.

If an armistice comes off here in the near future and Germany holds on still, I hope we shall either go to France or push up through Austria and start on the Bosche from a new front. Anyway, his last hours are getting nearer and unless we get a move on, I’m afraid we may have seen our last battle!

1 Novomber 1918

I got back to the wagon-line to-day. The only really amusing feature of the journey was my capture of the hat of a Carabinieri from the back of our lorry. One of the gallant band was cycling and without our permission, caught hold of our rear platform for a lift. I have always had a passionate desire to acquire one of these lovely bits of headgear, so I leant forward and removed it. We all tried it on and gave our own impression of how Napoleon looked when in banishment (they are just the right shape for this stirring episode) amidst the terrified bleats of the unhappy victim and then returned it to him after he had passed his destination by some miles.

I found them in a state of great excitement here. The Austriaco, usually so well behaved on our front, vanished three nights ago and has not seen since, at least that is one of the rumours. Anyway, our people had a raid on Asiago and never found a Hun - they walked clean through the town. The guns advanced next day, teams being sent up to the mountains at 2 hours notice and the last news from the Major is that the battery is in three section positions.

Matthews and one section were at Capitello Mulche, some 500 yards North of Asiago; I don’t know where the others are and weather they know where the Hun is, seems uncertain. I should have loved to have gone up to-day, but the Major sent down instructions that Rook was to report there to-day and as Todd is acting Staff Capt and we are held in readiness to move at any moment to the Plateau, I couldn’t very well do otherwise then stay down here.

2 November 1918

A more than hectic day. I started it by getting up 15 minutes before reveille - nothing could be worse! The first job was to detail three wagons for the plateau with two days rations and forage - these left at 9, at 10, I got orders to send up twelve outriders at 11, having got rid of that, I started to look round and fix up details once more for the event of having to move the W.L.

I was just in the middle of this when Todd came in to say the whole show would move up to Granezza at 7.45 a.m. Ever since then, life has been one long nightmare. For the last four days we have been receiving wires to send up teams and riders in dribs and drabs, with result that I have now a minimum of horses and a maximum of transport and equipment.

No battery is able to move complete and Todd has been detailed for the rotten job of looking after the remnants and getting them up as best he can, later. I have the pleasant task of taking the wagon-lines up and trying to straighten things out up there. Apparently the Austro has gone.

Our people have gone miles forward up the Val d’Assa and there is a rumour that if we join up with the Italians who are advancing up the Brenta valley, we have cut off an entire Austrian Corps. Anyway, it’s just midnight - I’ve had a thick day and expect a worse one to-morrow to start at 5 a.m., I have a "Co’d id de doze," leave is stopped and I’m missing all the advance so roll on peace, which everyone imagines is very near.

3 November 1918 - Sunday

This is, so far, the most wonderful day of the war, although I’m rather too tired to realise it.

To start with, we left at 8 a.m. and had, as we expected, a beastly trek, finally arriving at Granezza at 5 p.m. It’s a grisly pull up, and sundry overloaded wagons kept dropping to the rear. However, everything finally arrived safely.

The arrangements made by a paralytic ass, one Robinson of B battery, were the worst I’ve ever seen, but after numerous troubles, we finally got settled in, in some fashion. Orders at present are that we move on to Asiago to-morrow. I have to report to the battery. After dinner, (Machonochie and toast and jolly fine too) I wandered off to the late Divisional and Div Arty H.Q. and learnt officially that the Armistice commences at 3 p.m. to-morrow afternoon. During my walk I heard distant cheering and Flares and Very lights were going up, and in spite of my weariness, it gradually dawned on me that something really had happened. By a stroke of unexpected luck, I was very comfortably fixed up with a billet in the hut of the manager of the Y.M.C.A. who had rushed off to spend the night in Austria.

4 November 1918

One of the most interesting days - it has left me with a feeling of the intensest disgust that, thanks to that, to that more then futile school, I have missed the event of - "The War" in the battery.

The Major, Matt and Little must have had a simply wonderful time. At 9 a.m. I rode forward with Hayley, partly (or perhaps very largely) as a joy ride and partly for information of which there was none. We went via the well-known Pria dell’Acqua - San Sisto road and then along the road across No Mans Land to Maddelena past the sunken road behind Sec, which our battery has so often barraged for raids. From there we went into Asiago, where practically every house was familiar and found our so called advance wagon lines. Divisional H.Q. (or at least where they were last night) is about 20 Kilometres beyond Asiago at a place called Vezzena. (Parallel to Trento). The wagon lines are at Rendela Cross Roads, where we have often put up small dumps. (ammunition dumps). There was no definite news of the whereabouts of the battery, except that they were believed to be over the frontier In the wire announcing the armistice, it stated that our forces would continue their advance until 3 p.m. and all prisoners captured would be prisoners of war and the territory we occupied would be captured territory. After 3 p.m. no advance would take place and no prisoners taken and the enemy would retire to a distance of not less than three Kilometres before taking up position.

7 November 1918

When we got back to Granezza about 1 a.m. we found that orders had come in for us to move to Asiago which we did at 2.30.

I shared an old Austrian dug-out with Warham, Leslie and Rook and we were a very cheery party.

There was an awful squash in the wagon-line there so next morning, I went out and found one for our horses at an isolated farm called Cinque which has a good streamlet of beautiful clear water running through it.

In the afternoon I went for a ride with Leslie over the Plateau to Camporovere and had a look at the Val d’Assa.

Quite interesting but we are still chafing at being an L. of C. (Line of communications unit) unit and missing all the fun. We have seen swarms and swarms of prisoners coming back. Our division alone took 20,000 and 300 guns and lord knows how much transport.

It’s the first time I’ve ever felt really sorry for them. A more pathetic-looking mob, I’ve never seen. Dirty, tired and some of them, half starved, they are a sad and sorry sight steaming up the mountain roads towards Granezza.

The advance was so quick that there was no chance to get adequate guards for them and it was no uncommon sight to see 50 or 100 straggling down the road entirely on their own. On the 6th I moved into my new wagon-line and we settled in fairly comfortably.

This morning, I took an exercise ride out to Gallio Wood and almost to Callio village and we came back through Pear-shaped Wood.

It was interesting to see their wrecks of battery positions where they must have had absolute Hell. We passed about 30 guns along the road that were apparently brought down to be taken away, and then abandoned. The whole road is littered with bits of ammunition boxes Shells, cartridges etc and the wood is quite Ypres like in it’s melancholy appearance.

8 November 1918

I had orders last night to send forward a lot of material and stores to the guns, but when it got to the rendezvous, every thing had been cancelled.

I now hear that the batteries are coming back and I believe we are all bound for the Plains in a day or so. Just as well, because it will not be long before the snow comes down here and it will be almost impossible to get back after that.

18 November 1918

On the 9th I got orders to move down to Preara, the old wagon-line on the 10th. In the afternoon Hayley, Rock and I walked up through Pear-Shaped Wood into Gallio Wood and down the valley to Villa Rossi.

The Bosche were evidently afraid to walk about in the neighbourhood of Callio wood for we came across several extremely dead Huns and horses with wagons they were evidently moving, lying close by - some were mere skeletons.

We moved off in pretty good order at 7 a.m. as a brigade and I had the luck to be leading battery, which makes a lot of difference on a long trek.

We had a stiff climb up to Granezza from Pria dell’Acque and from there on it was an easy job winding down the mountainside. It was a gorgeous day and we rather enjoyed it all. We got into the wagonline about 4 p.m.

David Morgan, who had gone down the line with ’flu had just returned and came in and spent the evening with Todd and myself.

The next day we spent in busily squaring up our part of the show before the battery arrived and I rushed round billets squeezing everyone up. In the afternoon I went in to Thiene to draw pay for the men and arrived back just in time to see the arrival of the Major and little with one section; Matthews remained behind to bury a horse and arrived an hour later. I was taking the whole stable parade and I’ve never had a more impossible show. I had arranged that my people should take over the battery as it came in and water and feed their horses, and let their men go off parade at once.

But between the arrival of the Major and Little with the right section and Matthews with the left, a succession of the most extraordinary animals and vehicles entered the lines, which raised yells of delight from the most disorderly parade I’ve ever had to carry on.

First, a pair of Chestnut ponies were led in, then an Austrian G.S. Wagon drawn by two more ponies - a most amazing and shabby vehicle - then a dun (buckskin colour) outrider and finally an Austrian cooker. All together our bag consisted of one rider, six ponies, a G.S. wagon and a field cooker, not to mention numerous sacks of vegetables, flour, etc. We heard just after they had got down that Germany had signed the Armistice and that fighting had ceased that morning so of course it developed into a rather hectic night. After dinner we went up and visited C bty and then C bty came down to us and somehow B and D and Headquarters all came up in drafts and it was after midnight before we sorted ourselves out and retired to bed.

Although I can only speak from hearsay of the advance, one or two incidents are worth recording. Apparently, the Italians were very jealous of our advance into Austria and in order to preserve the entente, we had to halt our troops outside Trent in order to wait for the Italians who hysterically insisted on being the first to enter the captured capital.

The O/C. Austrian troops, however, outwitted them by sending out a document to our people before the arrival of the Italians officially surrendering the city of Trent to the Officer commanding 48th British Division.

Another rather wonderful story concerns the Colonel of one of the Worcester battalions who rode forward to reconnoiter the country ahead and turning from a side street into the central square of a town and found it absolutely full of Austrian troops, who were assembling to move off on a further retirement.

He was apprehended and realising that to be taken a prisoner of war at this late stage of proceedings was too futile to be considered, he called in desperate measures, simulated intense indignation and demanded to be brought before the O/C Troops to whom he let fly on the unspeakable indignity to which he had been subjected winding up an impassioned oration by saying "This is the more inexcusable seeing that I have not come here to fight but to billet my men" The story worked and with many apologies for any misunderstanding he was released.

We spent the next three days squaring up the lines, getting rid of surplus stores etc. G sub, which we had formed last winter as a home for the staff horses and the transport was split up and returned to the sections and some remounts dished out with the customary amount of grousing and biting sarcasm from the section commanders usual on these occasions. However, Little, Matt and I managed to maintain a most cheery entente and on two spare afternoons, rode into Thiene and played the fool as thoroughly as ever.

We had to return all captured vehicles and animals to a divisional rendezvous on the 10th, for return to the Italians, I believe, except the cooker and one pair to draw it. But by a little bit of smart work we did quite well out of the deal and we also kept a priceless little pair of chestnut ponies - one was a perfect heavy draught in miniature.

On the 26th we received orders to move to Montecchio Precalcino to take over billets from the 241 Brigade.

26 November 1918

We stayed 7 days in Montecchio and had settled in comfortably when, in the best army style, we moved to St Vito di Leguzzano, where already we are comfortably established.

Lt. F. S. Gedye M.C. R.F.A. (T)
Click for larger image

On Derek Driscoll's pages, this photo was called "F.S._Gedye_and_Canada_3__St_Vito", the horse is probably named Canada 3 and the photo was taken in St. Vito, Italy.

29 November 1918

This is really quite a good little place and we have good billets. On the 28th the Major had a photographer over and had groups of the battery taken. We had several assortments and it took over 4 hours. Every time the old man wanted to change a plate he had to go down to Rooks billet, where, to Rooks great disgust, he burrowed under his bedclothes in order to do it in the dark - a performance Rook looked on as his own peculiar prerogative!

Officers and Sergeants of A Battery, 240 Brigade RFA, Italy 1918. Photo by BSM George Blackman. Imperial War Museums Q 115102

Matthews and I have been busy entering up the new industrial groups and codes in every man’s paybook. We are only in the preliminary stages of the demobilization scheme, but it is already a complicated affair.

Hayley, who is only two in front of me on the leave list, tells me he is going on Sunday week, so I should get away soon.

The G.O.C. (General Walker) came round the lines yesterday and told Lane there is a rumour that we may be going to Austria as an army of occupation. Innsbruck is the place suggested. If his other rumour, that officers under 30 have to remain in the army for 2 years, is true, I hope we go - it would break the monotony no end.

8 December 1918

Postcard of San Vito di Leguzzano showing A Battery mess in December 1918
Image: Corsan family collection

The leave train and quite time too. The only items of note were a very minute inspection of the battery on Nov 30, which was carried out at 12 hours notice and a very cheery evening at Schio on the 2nd, in which Matt, Fisher, Selby-Lowndes, Brook-Taylor and I took part. The most amusing feature of the C.R.A.’s inspection (which we managed to scrape through without being entirely chewed up) was the capsizing of Blackman, the Sergeant - Major, by his horses in full view of the General.

At this point, my diary of the battery’s doings in the war ceases. There is little more to tell.

The brightest feature of the time at St Vito was the forming of the "Beatles", a Brigade concert Party that really became excellent - young John Seeley made a most ravishing girl and was reputed to have spent hundreds of lire on underwear - his high kicks were certainly one of the features of the show.

A last feat of my decaying memory was to write out for them what I remembered of A.A. Milne’s "The Boy Comes Home" that what I seen twice on leave and it was performed several times with great success and no Royalties.

Beatles Concert Party
Photo: Corsan family collection

Back row: Bombardier Howell (H.Q.), Sergeant Beavis (A Battery, 240 Brigade), Lieutenant Flint M.C. (B Battery, 240 Brigade)
Centre: Lieutenant Houghton (P of W. attd), 2nd Lieutenant H. A. J. Seeley (C Battery, 240 Brigade), Captain Gordon-Cheyne RAMC
Front: Driver Doyle (A Battery, 240 Brigade), Lt Brook-Taylor (B Battery, 240 Brigade)

A dark deed stained our Christmas. We bartered Ikey, our entirely illegal mascot moke (a donkey) who was never shown on the strength of the battery but who, nevertheless lived for some three years on the fat of ration land, together with a sum of money to purchase a complete porker for the men’s Christmas dinners.

He went to old Lovato, our billetee who was a nice old kind as Italians go, to his animals and we could not have kept him, even unofficially for many weeks longer.

I went back for a few weeks while Lane went on leave. Everything was in the process of disintegration and each week the demob, train took a party away.

A battery was formed for the Occupation, Bayne-Jardine in command, Lucas-Lucas and Selby-Lowndes being among the officers and Blackman the B.S.M.

Weekly there were hectic farewell parties to the people leaving next day. Indignant men used to pop out from the every corner as I made my way to the line with "Please Sir, when am I going home" until I had to make a rule that I would see anyone who wanted information at 6 p.m. and at no other time. And a very unpleasant hour it was too.

The most tragic times were the horse sales, when our dear old hairies (also known to the drivers in moments of annoyance as those "long faced – er – Blighters") had to go off in batches to Malo to be sold to the Italians.

Malo horse sale
Photo: Corsan family collection

The less said about the treatment of animals by the Southern races the better - sufficient to say that it was simply beastly work to hand over our faithful old nags to their keeping.

Canada and Kathleen, my two chargers, who had come out with the battery from England as Major Todd’s and Capt Stone’s chargers, I got in to the occupation battery; a number of those who had gone blind with the eye disease that so many horses had, were shot, but many were sold.

Very big prices were obtained as the Italians had nothing to compare with the fine build of our heavy and light draught.

Mares fetched very high prices and funny old jigs, who looked as though the gift of a lira would cause ecstasy, paid out their thousands of lire for a pair of A.S.C. heavy draught, then went back to buy more.

There was a great shortage of meat in Italy at this time.

We had an old nag, Lomas, a veritable giant among horses, who used to be in the wheel of the G.S. wagon who died slowly of pneumonia and after the post mortem, the village wanted to have the carcase. but Weber, the Vet got the interpreter to explain it was unfit for food (and so it was - very) and we buried it.

Next morning when, as orderly officer, I had to detail a party to complete the filling in of the grave which was only partly finished the night before, Lomas had vanished - there was a sinister sequel two days later when the village meat store was literally wreathed with sausages.

The other instance was a great feast given by our billetess to some of the local worthies when the piece de resistance was, for each guest, a large slab of Polenta over which a single sparrow was roasted on a spit and the bird served complete, feathers and all on the Polenta.

Finally, the remnant of the Brigade moved to Tezze and we bade farewell to our nice old billetess, Lovato and Nichola and Rosa.

I only stayed a few days in Tezze with them and came home in the early days of March. I believe the final journey to England of what was then called the Cadre took place about the beginning of April, 1919.

Sources and Resources

Derek Driscoll's original pages

1st South Midland Bde RFA (T) 1917-1919 by Capt F. S. Gedye MC

Other Sources

SOS Artillery Fire (The Great War (1914-1918) Forum)

Ubique
Quo Fas et Gloria Ducunt
Fidus et Audax