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                       THE STORY OF THE MUNSTERS




                             THE STORY OF
                             THE MUNSTERS

                                  AT

                          ETREUX, FESTUBERT,
                            RUE DU BOIS AND
                                HULLOCH

                                  BY

                          MRS. VICTOR RICKARD

         AUTHOR OF "DREGS," "THE LIGHT ABOVE THE CROSSROADS,"
            "THE FRANTIC BOAST," "THE FIRE OF GREEN BOUGHS"

                       _WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY_

                             LORD DUNRAVEN

            _Honorary Colonel, 5th Royal Munster Fusiliers_

                         HODDER AND STOUGHTON

                     LONDON    NEW YORK    TORONTO

                               MCMXVIII




                             DEDICATED TO
                            VICTOR RICKARD
                 AND HIS COMRADES IN ALL RANKS OF THE
                MUNSTER FUSILIERS, WHO FOUGHT AND FELL
                       IN THE GREAT WAR, 1914-15

       *       *       *       *       *

    "One who never turned his back but marched breast forward,
    Never doubted clouds would break,
    Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph,
    Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better, sleep to wake."

       *       *       *       *       *

The shamrock, which forms part of the cap badge of the Royal Munster
Fusiliers, was first introduced, in February 1915, by Lieut.-Colonel
Rickard, in the Second Battalion, with the object of giving a
distinctively Irish emblem to all ranks of the Regiment. It is now worn
by all the battalions of the Munsters.




                                PREFACE


I should like to express my thanks to the officers of the Royal Munster
Fusiliers, and also to the friends and relatives who have helped me
to collect and arrange this book. In the following accounts of the
engagements of Etreux, Festubert, Rue du Bois and Hulloch, I do not
wish in any sense to appear as an historian; that task awaits far abler
and more qualified hands. What follows has been threaded together as a
little tribute to the men who gave their lives for an Ideal, and who
were brave soldiers in the Great War.

The first three chapters of this book appeared in _New Ireland_ during
the summer of 1915, and were shortly afterwards republished by that
paper, together with the supplementary letters, as _The Story of the
Munsters_. A second impression was sold out by the end of the year,
since when no copies of the book have been obtainable. The new features
of the present edition are the historical Introduction specially
written by Lord Dunraven, to whom my best thanks are due, and the four
pictures and the account of the Munsters at Hulloch which have already
appeared in _The Sphere_. Its Editor, Mr. Clement Shorter, has a
special claim to the lasting gratitude of the Munster Fusiliers for the
deep interest he has always shown in all records of the Regiment; and
it is by his permission that the illustrations, which add incalculably
to the slender story itself, are here reproduced. My thanks are also
offered to Mr. Geddes, who has designed the colour plate on the cover,
and brought into the book a sense of the traditions which surround the
regimental flags.

                                                            L. RICKARD.




                             INTRODUCTION


The origin of the Royal Munster Fusiliers, like that of those other
great Irish Regiments, the Dublins and the Leinsters, is inextricably
bound up with those great movements of Imperial expansion which took
place in the eighteenth century. Of the Leinsters one battalion
was originally raised in Canada and another in India. Both regular
battalions of the Dublins were raised in India. Like them, the
1st and 2nd Battalions of the Royal Munsters (before the Caldwell
reconstruction the 101st and 104th Foot) were originally regiments
in the army of the East India Company, raised out of British-born
volunteers in India and only taken over as part of the British Army
when the control of India passed from the Company to the Crown. It
is for this reason that on the grenade which, in common with other
Fusilier battalions, is worn by the Munsters the royal tiger of India
is superimposed.

Until the present war, with the exception of the notable service
performed by the 1st Battalion in South Africa, all the battle
honours of the Regiment come from India or the surrounding countries.
The regimental colours record service for the 1st Battalion at the
following actions: Plassey, Condore, Masulipatam, Badara, Buxar,
Rohilcund, Carnatic, Sholinghur, Guzerat, Deig, Bhurtpore, Afghanistan,
Ghuznee, Ferozeshah, Sobraon, Pegu, Delhi, Lucknow and Burmah; while
for the 2nd Battalion, raised as we shall see eighty years after the
first, there are the Punjaub, Chillianwallah, Goojerat, Pegu and Delhi.
To trace these records in detail would be to write the history of the
steps by which we acquired our Indian Empire. They explain sufficiently
(with the regimental origin in the Company's forces) why there were no
Munsters in the Napoleonic wars.

The 1st Battalion dates its corporate existence from the 22nd December,
1756, when Clive, who had just returned to India and was about to begin
the most glorious epoch of his career, raised it under the title of the
Bengal European Regiment. The Regiment fought in his army at Plassey
and Condore and in every action of that war up to the great victory of
Buxar in October 1764. In 1779 it was sent to the Presidency of Madras
and under Eyre Coote fought at Windeywash; in 1794 it took part under
Abercrombey in the Rohilla wars; it was present (being known then,
after the fashion of the India Army, by the name of its Colonel--
Clark's Corps) at the occupation of Macao in 1808. In 1839 it served
in Afghanistan, when out of volunteers for it the 104th Regiment (now
the 2nd Battalion Royal Munster Fusiliers) was formed. It served with
distinction in the Sikh War, and as a reward for its services was
raised to the dignity of a fusilier corps. The colours carried by the
Regiment at this period hang in Winchester Cathedral. It went through
all the fiercest engagements of the Mutiny and was present at the siege
and capture of Lucknow. In 1861 it went under the Crown and became the
101st Regiment (Royal Bengal Fusiliers). From 1868 to 1874 it served
in England, then abroad again, and in 1883 became the 1st Battalion
Royal Munster Fusiliers. In 1899 it had the distinction of being sent
to South Africa from Fermoy before mobilisation, being the first home
regiment to go out to the war. It served with great distinction
in Lord Methuen's force at Belmont, and afterwards on the march to
Pretoria, and in the latter period of the war supplied a mounted
infantry battalion.

The history of the 2nd Battalion is shorter, but no less glorious.
Formed during the first Afghan War in 1839 out of surplus volunteers
for its sister Battalion, it took part in the great victory of
Chillianwallah, went through the Burmese War 1851-53, and in the Mutiny
was part of the force which stormed Delhi. In 1861 it was brought into
the line as the 104th Regiment, but served for ten years more in India
before it came home. In 1887 it joined the Second Burmah Expedition,
and like the 1st Battalion served with great distinction in the South
African War in Natal, and later under Lord Kitchener in the Transvaal
and Cape Colony. The 2nd Battalion was sent to France at the beginning
of the present war. It suffered very severely and has been reinforced
by the 3rd, 4th and 5th Battalions. The 1st, 6th and 7th Battalions
have served at the Dardanelles, and after the evacuation of Gallipoli
the 1st Battalion went to France. They have also suffered heavy losses.
Both on the Western front and in the East the Regiment has splendidly
maintained its ancient renown. To go further into modern history
would be to trespass upon Mrs. Victor Rickard's admirable pages. I
write these few lines about the origin of the Regiment because they
may be interesting to her readers. We must not forget that though the
bones come from Bengal, the blood and sinews are Irish. It is as an
Irish regiment that the Munsters are celebrated in these pages. It is
Irishmen who have won its new battle honours. It is Irish men and
women who have suffered, Irishmen who have triumphed in the field. The
record of the Regiment is splendid, and I am proud to sign myself

                                                          DUNRAVEN,
  _Hon. Col. 5th Battalion_,
      _Royal Munster Fusiliers_.




                               CONTENTS


                                                                    PAGE
  THE STAND OF THE MUNSTERS AT ETREUX.                                 1

  THE MUNSTERS AT FESTUBERT                                           17

  THE MUNSTERS AT RUE DU BOIS                                         32

  THE MUNSTERS AT HULLOCH                                             45

  THE STAND AT ETREUX                                                 55

  APPENDIX                                                            67




                         LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS


  THE MUNSTERS AT ETREUX
  (_Drawn by Christopher Clark_) _To face page_                        1

  MAJOR P. A. CHARRIER (_Photograph_)  "                               6

  THE MUNSTERS AT FESTUBERT
  (_Drawn by Philip Dadd_)  "                                         17

  LT.-COL. A. M. BENT, C.M.G.
  (_Photograph_)  "                                                   24

  LT.-COL. G. J. RYAN, D.S.O. (_Photograph_) "                        28

  THE LAST ABSOLUTION AT RUE DU
  BOIS .  (_Drawn by F. Matania_)  "                                  34

  LT.-COL. V. G. H. RICKARD (_Photograph_) "                          38

  CAPT. J. CAMPBELL-DICK (_Photograph_)  "                            40

  THE MUNSTERS AT HULLOCH
  (_Drawn by F. Matania_)  "                                          45

  MAJOR J. W. CONSIDINE (_Photograph_)  "                             49

  MAPS TO ILLUSTRATE THE STAND OF
  THE MUNSTERS AT ETREUX (_Sketch A_) _page_                          57
  (_Sketch B_) "                                                      63

  OFFICERS OF THE 2ND RL. MUNSTER
  FUSILIERS, MAY 1915 (_Photograph_) _To face page_                   66


[Illustration: THE MUNSTERS AT ETREUX, AUGUST 27TH, 1914

  _Drawn by Christopher Clark._]            [_To face p. 1._]




                           THE STAND OF THE
                          MUNSTERS AT ETREUX


                          _August 27th, 1914_


                 (WHICH TOOK PLACE DURING THE RETREAT
                              FROM MONS)

    "Then lift the flag of the last crusade,
     And fill the ranks of the last brigade,
     March on to the fields where the world's remade
     And the ancient dreams come true."
         "A Song of the Irish Armies." By T. M. KETTLE.


On the 13th of August, 1914, the 2nd Battalion Royal Munster Fusiliers
left Aldershot on their way to an unknown destination "somewhere in
France."

The Expeditionary Force was reaching forward, as one of the officers
wrote, towards "a jolly in Belgium," and he also added, "some of us
will not come back." The same joy that was with Garibaldi and his
thousand when they went forth to the redemption of a small and gallant
race, went, we all know, with the men of the First Division. Each one
knew that an hour lay ahead when great issues were to be joined, and
the Munsters were proud to feel that the chance was with them to add to
the records of their Regimental history.

The Battalion embarked at Southampton, and the transport steamed out
shortly after noon, arriving at Le Havre at 3 a.m. on the 14th of
August. From there they marched to a rest camp on the ridge west of
Harfleur, where they remained until the 16th of August, and once more
they marched to Havre, where they entrained for the concentration
area at Le Nouvion. On Sunday, the 17th, Le Nouvion was crowded with
French troops, and the townsfolk, wild with enthusiasm, welcomed the
Munsters, and from thence the Regiment marched to Bouey, three miles
distant from Etreux. The dawn of the 22nd of August saw the Battalion
on the road again, marching towards Mons.

All of this is now like the fragment of a dream, and the troops who
marched and sang are many of them on the further side of the boundary;
but still the memory remains, though the rows and ranks of men are
gone, and, like the clerk in the old story, "Come to Oxford and their
friends no more."

    "It's a long way to Tipperary,
     A long wa-ay to go."

       *       *       *       *       *

All round and about Chapeau Rouge, a village near the river Sambre, and
not far from Le Cateau, the country is a bower of green hedgerows in
the month of August. In ordinary times, when trenches, deeper than any
grave, and wire entanglements, and all the devastation of war is not,
a country cut up into small fields has an intimate and friendly look.
It suggests little things, and is small and near and has none of the
sudden desolation of open space, stretching empty to the sky line. But
what is beautiful in times of peace may in one moment become terrible
in time of war, and the little hedgerows cost Ireland dear on the
morning of the 27th of August, 1914.

The morning broke sullen and heavy, and the distant electric
premonition of coming storm and coming battle vibrated in the air.
The Munsters were placed as the Right Battalion, next to them came
the Coldstream, further on the Scots Guards, with the Black Watch in
reserve. The frontage of the Munsters extended from Chapeau Rouge,
where the roads crossed, to another cross roads north of Fesmy. Major
Charrier (commanding the Munsters) had explicit orders to hold the
cross roads above Chapeau Rouge, unless or until he received orders to
retire. Dawn found the men of B Company, commanded by Captain Simms,
busily digging trenches and strengthening their position, while the air
was comparatively cool.

The German attack was expected in the course of the morning, and B
Company was the first company of the Battalion to receive its baptism
of fire.

For men whose record shows them proud, fiery, and dashing soldiers, the
task alloted to B Company was no easy one. It was necessary that their
position should be kept secret, and when at last the crackle and rattle
of German musketry broke the tension of this waiting, the Company
holding the outpost did not reply. The German patrol, whose business
it was to locate their position, kept up an intermittent fire, and
the small handful of Irish did the hardest thing of all for them--they
waited. The lulls and bursts followed one upon the other; tremendous
echoes repeated the volleys of sound, and the swinging shrill of flying
bullets continued overhead, punctuated now and again by spells of
intense quiet.

Suddenly the midsummer storm broke with a violence that is
indescribable. Torrents of drenching rain soaked the men to the skin
and collected in the trenches, and in the vortex of the storm the
Germans advanced to the attack. In one moment it was "War, war, bloody
war," and the first onslaught fell upon B Company, and D Company
(commanded by Captain Jervis) with Lieutenant Crozier and Lieutenant R.
W. Thomas.

[Illustration: MAJOR P. A. CHARRIER

2nd Royal Munster Fusiliers, killed at the head of his Battalion at
Etreux, near Mons, August 27th, 1914

Record of Service:--West Africa, 1900--Operations in Ashanti,
slightly wounded; Despatches, London Gazette, 8th March, 1901. South
African War, 1902--Employed with Imperial Yeomanry operations in
Cape Colony, May, 1902. Queen's Medal, with two clasps. East Africa,
1903-4--Operations in Somaliland on Staff (as Special Service Officer).
Employed on Transport (from November, 1903). Medal, with clasp.]

  [_To face p. 6._]

The Munsters repelled the attack with fierce determination, and the
little fields around Chapeau Rouge became a place of violent and
terrible memory, but the men held doggedly to their position until the
order came to withdraw a mile to the rear. B Company was at this point
detailed to act as right flank guard on the east, where the attack was
hottest, and in endeavouring to carry out this order, they were cut off
from the flank by the thick green hedgerows, and so to them came the
adventure of maintaining a little battle of their own.

The rain continued and the mud grew deep, and very slowly and without
heavy loss B Company fell back through Fesmy, fighting through the
small wide street until it rejoined the Battalion on the further side.
They had shaken the Germans off for the moment in spite of their
immensely superior numbers, and had done most gallantly. After a short
delay Major Charrier sent them to take the head of the column and
march to Oisy as advance guard.

The day continued showery for some hours, with occasional drenching
bursts, but the men cared nothing for the discomfort of soaked clothes.
It has been decreed by the Power that rules the destiny of men and
nations that the call of a bugle makes the heart of Ireland glad.
There was real adventure in their lives that morning; the actual vital
essence of it was touched by the rank and file of the marching men, for
abstract safety as a condition to be desired has never entered very
much into the Celtic vision of what life can give in those moments when
it is at its best.

From Fesmy the Munsters pushed on to Etreux, there to join the main
body of troops holding that town.

       *       *       *       *       *

Up the wide road where the bridge at Oisy spans the curve of the river
Sambre, and some miles from where the Munsters were retiring towards
Etreux, about sixty men of the Battalion, under Captain Emerson, took
up their position, hoping to hold the road. They were here reinforced
by the Coldstream Guards, who were endeavouring to get into touch with
the Munsters, now separated from them by five miles of road, upon which
the enemy were advancing rapidly.

To the meadow near the bridge where the Munsters were collected an
orderly carrying a dispatch came up at about three o'clock in the
afternoon. The time of the dispatch was not marked upon the message,
which was to order the Munsters to retire "at once." The orderly who
carried the message had, he said, been chased by the enemy, and after
lying hidden for a time under the nearest cover, believed that it was
not possible for him to bring the message through to Major Charrier.
Upon this incident the tragedy of the whole day turned. Time had been
lost, time too precious ever to regain; the exclusive supremacy is
nearly always a question of minutes.

Colonel Ponsonby decided that it was best to retire the Coldstreams and
the handful of Munsters who were with them, and these were joined some
miles back by Captain Woods and seventy men, who had fallen back to the
Guise road.

       *       *       *       *       *

The river Sambre is full of curves, and winds past Fesmy and Etreux.
Just along the right bank there runs a railway line, turning through a
deep cutting into the station of Etreux. From there, the old you or I
who lived before the war could have travelled comfortably across three
frontiers in a few short hours. In this pastoral country, surrounded at
evening by the softness of rising damp, stands Etreux, but none of the
wandering fortunes of life will ever carry anyone back to look at the
same picture any more.

When the Munsters marched onwards the early evening was bright again,
and the heavy clouds had rolled to westward. The little environs
stretched out along the road; a few houses, a cabaret, an orchard
bright with cider apples, some already collected in piles under the
trees; further again another proud house, bigger than the rest, and
then streets, a palisade of trees and a spire. All this seen at a
glance, where the road passed the railway cutting; for in the month
of August war had not yet made France hag-ridden and desolate. Near
to the railway cutting, and on the rise of ground a cross marked a
turn to a side road, and a number of tiny lath crosses stuck into the
grass signified that the good folk of Etreux carried their dead that
way. Beneath the high cross was written "Ave Crux Spes Unica," and its
shadow fell over the road, dividing the Munsters from the village like
the boundary of a frontier.

Within a few yards of the outlying buildings, a sudden burst of rifle
and artillery fire swept through the ranks of the Regiment, informing
them finally and terribly that they were cut off. The men rallied
magnificently, and B Company extended at once. Led by Captain Simms,
they went forward to attack the enemy's main position, which was in the
loopholed house that dominated the road. The railway cutting was held
in force by the Germans, and D Company, commanded by Captain Jervis,
and covered by the steady rifle fire of the men in position by one
of the fields on the side of the road, rushed the railway cutting.
Every man save two were shot down in the attempt; Lieutenant Crozier,
showing the greatest gallantry, crossed a narrow lane, and exposing
himself recklessly to the enemy's fire, shouted, "There they are; come
on, men," and fell, killed instantaneously. The rattle of musketry,
the booming of guns speaking terribly, was everywhere; the air itself
vibrated and the ghastly transformation which men call war, continued.
Everywhere the dead lay in huddled heaps, and the wounded with grey
faces tried to rise, or crawled in maimed agony a little further on to
die.

Bit by bit the shattered remnant of the Battalion fell back into the
orchard, where Captain Chute brought the machine guns along the road
under a hail of lead, and placed them in position. He was wounded in
the side, and immediately afterwards was killed by another bullet.

Led by Major Charrier, the Munsters charged and charged again, against
the enveloping force which now circled them around with a ring of fire,
dropping shells and bullets. Major Charrier, who was twice wounded,
steadily continued the direction of the action. He was standing by one
of the guns which had been put out of action when Lieutenant Gower came
and reported to him, just about sunset. Once more he rallied the men to
the charge, and mortally wounded, he fell as they crossed the road.

Incident by incident the later stages of the heroic stand developed as
the hours passed on, and ammunition could only be renewed by taking
what was left on the dead and dying, and moment after moment gave fresh
hostages to death.

Slowly and dreadfully the twilight came as the German onslaught
gathered force, and the many sounds of battle rose and rose around the
men who, with the Battalion thinned to less than half their fighting
forces, still resisted the massed battalions of German soldiers; but
the Munsters gave themselves with courage and lavishness, strong and
unconsciously splendid. Once more they charged, and the great seas of
uncounted enemy's troops crushed and broke them and forced those who
were left to surrender.

So the bitterest hour of all was the last.

       *       *       *       *       *

It is told that the German officers said that men had never fought more
bravely; it is also said that they sent back to their headquarters for
a chaplain to bury the Irish dead.

Major Charrier and eight officers of the Munsters were buried near the
trench where the men were laid to rest, under the shadow of the trees
where they had fought their great fight. But though we call them dead,
we know that the spirit that is strong and cheerful, and that has added
to the page of a nation's history, outlives all so-called untimely
endings. The finished work, the completed undertaking, is not for many
in the story of this great war, and it is not a little thing but a fine
deed, to have left a record that betters the honourable traditions of
the Royal Munster Fusiliers.

"Dying ye shall die greatly with a glory that shall surpass the glories
of the past."

[Illustration: THE MUNSTERS AT FESTUBERT

December 22nd, 1914

  _Drawn by Philip Dadd._]       [_To face p. 17._]




                       THE MUNSTERS AT FESTUBERT

                                                 _December 22nd, 1914._

    "Your ashes o'er the flats of France are scattered,
       But hold a fire more hot than flesh of ours.
     The stainless flag that flutters frayed and tattered,
       Shall wave and wave like spring's immortal flowers.
     You die, but in your death life grows intenser,
       You shall not know the shame of growing old.
     In endless joy you wave the holy censer,
       And blow a trumpet though your lips are cold."

          "To Our Dead." By EDMUND GOSSE.


On the evening of the 20th December, 1914, the 2nd Battalion Royal
Munster Fusiliers, commanded by Colonel A. M. Bent, were billeted in
the outskirts of Bailleul. They were scattered about in the farm houses
and barns, in the narrow, yellow-plastered châteaus, that let in all
the draughts from all the corners of the country, and in the little
villa houses on the threshold of Bailleul itself.

Up to that time Bailleul had escaped from the destruction of falling
shells, and only the far-away boom of guns made war very strongly
evident; that and the masses of British troops and the passing of motor
transport, divorced it from its old dreaming quiet of a few months
back. The weather was intensely cold; an icy west wind came over the
frozen flats, and drove the tearing rain-storms out of the mist-covered
fens.

The Regiment had been some weeks in billets, re-equipping and training,
going steadily through the process by which freshly drafted youngsters
are made into fine soldiers. Colonel Bent was unusually gifted with the
quality that inspires men to realise the value of central control;
his personality and indomitable will made for an influence that the
hundreds of men under his command responded to instinctively. Many of
those who fought with him at Ypres and elsewhere have testified to this.

Previous to December 20th the Battalion had been "standing by" ready
to move at the shortest notice, but on the morning of December 20th a
message was received from Brigade Headquarters to the effect that the
Battalion need no longer be held in readiness; so normal, semi-peace
conditions reigned. They were, however, not destined to enjoy these
conditions for long, nor to turn their thoughts towards the completion
of Christmas festivities, for at 5 p.m. an urgent message was received
by Colonel Bent that the 3rd Brigade, to which the Battalion belonged,
was to be ready to march "as soon as possible."

It was quite dark when the order came, and though the men were
scattered in their billets, at 6.15 p.m. the Munsters were in their
place in the Brigade, and marching out into the stormy darkness. Behind
them the dream of Christmas vanished like so many dreams. Reality took
its place, a reality of a road ankle deep in mud, a tearing blizzard of
rain and hail, and a black drenching tempest to face with bent heads.

For six hours the Battalion marched forward until at Merville a halt
was called; and in an empty factory there was rest and shelter for the
drenched and weary men.

There was no sign anywhere of any promise of day in the sky; it might
have been the commencement of eternal night and of eternal darkness
when the Munsters stood to arms. The men were heavy with their four
hours' sleep, heavy, too, with their load of ammunition and equipment.
They left the factory behind them and took the sodden road, and at last
the ashen grey dawn broke, and the landscape slowly cleared from the
shadow of night, but the rain never ceased nor lessened; and the sound
of the heavy guns told that the "business as usual" of the war had
begun again.

At 8 a.m., outside Bethune, the Battalion halted again awaiting
orders, the men sitting or lying in the mud along the roadside,
keeping as cheerful as circumstances would permit. With his unwavering
cheerfulness and energy, Colonel Bent worked against the conditions
of the weather and the hardships his men were undergoing, affecting
everyone with his own courage and dispelling the despondency of
weariness, which is one of the hardest things a man can face. A
battle itself calls up the human characteristics of dash and fight,
but weariness and rain and mud are cruel adversaries, fought at a
disadvantage. It is in those hours that most of all the magnetism
of personality is of superb value. Afterwards, when the issue is no
longer doubtful and the battle is over, and the definite, conspicuous
end gained, it is easy for anyone to raise a cheer; but sitting in the
liquid mud, weary and very cold, it takes a strong heart and the truest
kind of pluck to rise above it all.

By 3 p.m. orders were received that the Battalion was to occupy the
trenches at Festubert vacated by the Indian troops; the leading Brigade
deployed for attack, and shortly after the Third Brigade were placed
on the left of the First Guards Brigade. This Brigade consisted of the
2nd Welsh Regiment, the 1st Gloucesters, supported by the Munsters,
the 1st South Wales Borderers, and the 4th Royal Welsh Fusiliers
(Territorial). After the issue of these orders the Brigade resumed its
march, through Gorre to Festubert, where the Battalion remained in
reserve, but on the night of the 21st received orders that there was to
be a general attack upon the German line.

All the night of the 21st the Munsters waited, and all the night of the
21st it rained and snowed and stormed.

       *       *       *       *       *

The pitch darkness of a night of waiting is a memorable experience,
even when there are many such to record. There is the curious feeling
of loneliness common to all humans out in the night. The bright smoke
of fires over the land behind the parapets of the German trenches made
will-o'-the-wisp columns of misty light; sometimes a star shell shot
up, lighting the place like day, and sometimes the crack of a rifle
tore the dark and spattered in the mud of the trench. Life and death
come much closer in the night than they do in the day time, and the
whole almost intolerable mystery of war is intensified a thousandfold.
Very slowly the sullen dawn broke, as if unwilling to reveal the sights
that night clothed over, and the sodden fields and the barns and
farmsteads stood out blackly against the grey. The green and yellowish
water lying over the flats was frozen, and the dead were very visible,
lying in pathetic heaps amid the refuse of a thousand unexpected
things. The weary desolation of dawn over French Flanders passes all
description.

[Illustration: LIEUTENANT-COLONEL A. M. BENT, C.M.G.

2nd Royal Munster Fusiliers, dangerously wounded at Festubert, 22nd
December, 1914

Record of Service:--South African War, 1902--Operations in the
Transvaal, January to April, 1902. Queen's Medal, with three clasps.
North-West Frontier of India, 1908--Operations in Mohmand Country.
Medal with clasp.]

  [_To face p. 24._]

The noise grew with the morning light, and the boom and bang of heavy
crashes grew fiercer, until the hour arrived when the Battalion, led
by Colonel Bent, started to the attack.

The men swarmed over the parapets and raced across the fields,
carrying their heavy equipment and following their officers over the
shell-scarred, churned-up earth. Strands of barbed wire beset their
way, and the ground was broken by great shell-holes. Before them, from
the German trenches, the machine guns hammered out their deadly message
of welcome; and the men went gamely on, most splendidly led by their
officers.

Major Thomson, Second in Command, fell across the first German trench,
but would not permit himself to be removed; continuing to issue orders
from where he lay, he was wounded again, the second wound proving
fatal. He met his death unvanquished and unappalled, and his name
remains bound in with the great story of the Regiment. Colonel Bent
fell in the earlier part of the charge, desperately wounded; Major
Day was killed a little later, showing the greatest gallantry; and
Captain Hugh O'Brien, a young Irish officer beloved by his men, and
who had been proved in the South African War to possess unusual dash
and coolness, fell as he shouted to his company, "Get a bit of your
own back, boys." Not twenty yards from where Captain O'Brien fell
Captain Durand met his death. He had joined the 3rd Battalion Royal
Munster Fusiliers in 1906, having served through the Matabeleland and
Mashonaland campaigns in the Rhodesian Horse; he died most nobly,
leading at the extreme point of the advance made by C Company, under
fierce enfilading fire. The sorrow and the heroism of such death is
touched by the great enduring light of glory.

Men fell on the right and left, and again and again they rallied and
stumbled over the broken ground, holding steadily on under the wail
of tearing shrapnel, and at last the Munsters reached their goal, the
given point; and in the fierce counter attack they did not lose an inch
of what they had taken.

So the day passed, and the wounded lay out under the cruel lash of the
sleet and the bitter wind. Not one man returned to Headquarters, except
some wounded who straggled in, dazed and bleeding. The chorus of the
field guns, and the detonation of the great guns, and the crack, crack
of rifle fire went on persistently. Lyddite and high explosives rained
through the murky evening, and still no orders were issued that reached
the Munster Fusiliers. They had gone out, as is their way, to do their
bit, and had disappeared into the vast nothingness behind the night.

Darkness fell, and great flashes lit the dark; those pale, awful
gleams of super-civilisation swept over the ghastly land. The enemy's
search-lights were feeling after the mutilated and wounded, showing up
the stretcher bearers and Red Cross dressers, and as each slow beam
swung in its deadly course, a hail of lead followed it, bearing death
on its coming.

In a big yawning gap of bog and dyke and mud the Munsters held on,
unassisted, supports having failed. The Companies were lying out under
fire, pinned to the ground, and with nearly all their officers killed
or wounded, they still held on.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: LIEUTENANT-COLONEL G. J. RYAN, D.S.O.

2nd Royal Munster Fusiliers, killed near Festubert, January 23rd, 1915

Record of Service:--South African War, 1899-1901--Employed with the
Mounted Infantry, advance on Kimberley, including actions at Belmont
and Modder River; operations in the Transvaal from June to 29th
November, 1900; operations in Cape Colony, operations in the Transvaal,
30th November, 1900, to March, 1901; operations in Orange River Colony,
March to June, 1901. Despatches, London Gazette, 10th September,
1901--Vaal, June to 29th November, 1900; operations in Cape Colony.
Queen's Medal and five clasps, D.S.O. Soudan, 1905--Operations against
the Nyam-Nyam tribes in Bahr-el-Gazel Province; Despatches, London
Gazette, 18th May, 1906. Egyptian Medal Clasp. Soudan, 1906--Operations
at Talodi in Southern Kordofan--Clasp to Egyptian Medal. Soudan,
1906--Operations in Blue Nile Province. Promoted Temporary
Lieutenant-Colonel, London Gazette, 22nd January, 1915.]

  [_To face p. 28._]

Major Julian Ryan, D.S.O., who had gone back to Brigade Headquarters on
the morning of the 22nd, to arrange about ammunition and transport, as
he put it himself in a letter, "sized up trouble" when "the Regiment
disappeared into nothingness." It was he who left a record of the work
done by the six men of the search party to whose efforts, as to
his own, the safe return of a single man of the Munster Fusiliers is
chiefly due.

Having reported at Brigade Headquarters, and having received the reply
that no help could be given, Major Ryan split his men into patrols of
two and sent them out. At 8 p.m., when it was very dark and the enemy's
fire unceasing, the men, whose names, unfortunately, are not recorded,
came back reporting: "Very few officers left; many casualties; Colonel
wounded; two senior Majors killed. Send orders." Major Ryan, fully
aware that daybreak would see the end of the gallant Battalion if
nothing were done, redoubled his efforts.

"It was 10 o'clock before the Brigadier's orders got to me to get
orders out to the Battalion to retire, and even by then I had not a
single unwounded man left of all the four companies that had gone out
at 7 a.m. to show me where they had got to. Once more I called on my
trusty six who had located them at dusk, and sent them out in three
parties, again with definite orders to come back to me at a certain
point where I was alone but for a few stray men and no officers. By
midnight, to my relief, I got the remnant of the four companies in,
worn out and starved, as their officers had fallen and many men, in the
advance. All they could do was to follow my guides in. I called for
volunteers and took a party out with stretchers and got some wounded
in, but drew blank for the Colonel and Major Thomson. The Adjutant had
come in unwounded, but dead beat, and could not say where the Colonel
was.

"At 2 a.m., or nearly 3, I went round and collected the exhausted
non-commissioned officers who had come in, called for volunteers
again, and put the machine-gun officer in charge. The party returned
carrying the Colonel wounded. All the rescue work was done under
fire.... The Regiment did all, and more than all, that men could do;
they played up splendidly. I have never known men do so much. I am very
proud of them."

A few weeks later Major Ryan, an officer of the most brilliant promise
and striking personality, was killed by a sniper, to the great sorrow
of the Battalion.




                      THE MUNSTERS AT RUE DU BOIS

                                                       _May 9th, 1915._

    "She, beyond shelter or station,
     She beyond limit or bar,
     Urges to slumberless speed
     Armies that famish and bleed,
     Giving their lives for her seed,
     That their dust may re-build her a Nation,
     That their souls may re-light her a star."

                           A. C. SWINBURNE.


About a mile from the market-place of Neuve Chapelle, and above
Festubert and Givenchy, is the Rue du Bois, a street lying east and
west, some 500 yards behind the British trenches. Last year the bells
of Neuve Chapelle sent the sound swinging over the little distance,
but the pounding of the shells of friend and enemy alike, silenced
the bells, when war let loose the great stream of human blood and
human tears. The Rue was once a thoroughfare for early carts and other
traffic going towards the Distillery on the Violaines Road, and had
been built according to the Roman system--one straight line of houses
all built together. Along this street the carts used to pass, coming
up from Richebourg St. Vaast and Richebourg l'Avoué, and going on by
the road that leads to distant Lille. The Rue du Bois is now a sad
place, for the chimney-stacks have fallen, and the roofs and walls gape
desolately. Changed times for France since the early carts went by, and
a changed world for many of us.

On the evening of Saturday, May 8th, 1915, the 2nd Royal Munster
Fusiliers, commanded by Colonel Victor Rickard, were on their way to
take their place in the trenches in front of Rue du Bois; with them
was Father Francis Gleeson, whose name is known throughout the whole
of Munster. It was a clear spring evening, dark under a green sky, the
orchards through the country heavy with blossom, their scent recalling
manifold recollections. The poplar trees, many of them shell-scarred
and broken, were very still in the windless twilight, dark spires
against the clear clean sky. At the entrance to the Rue du Bois there
stands a broken shrine, and within the shrine is a crucifix.

[Illustration: THE LAST ABSOLUTION OF THE MUNSTERS AT RUE DU BOIS, MAY
8TH, 1915

  _Drawn by F. Matania._]

  [_To face p. 34_]

When the Munsters came up the road, Colonel Rickard halted the
Battalion. The men were ranged in three sides of a square, their green
flags, embroidered with the Irish harp and the word "Munster," a gift
from Lady Gordon, placed before each Company. Father Gleeson mounted,
Colonel Rickard and Captain Filgate, the Adjutant on their chargers,
were in the centre, and in that wonderful twilight Father Gleeson gave
a General Absolution. To some present, very certainly, the "vitam
æternam" was intensely and beautifully manifest, the day-spring of
Eternity very near. "Miseratur vestri Omnipotens Deus, et dimissis
peccatis vestris, perducat vos ad vitam æternam." The whole Regiment
with their heads bared, sang the _Te Deum_, the great thanksgiving, the
"Sursum Corda" of all the earth.

There are many journeys and many stopping-places in the strange
pilgrimage we call life, but there is no other such journey in
the world as the journey up a road on the eve of battle, and no
stopping-place more holy than a wayside shrine.

The men who prayed there were, very few of them, the men of the
original Battalion. Gaps had been filled again and again, and most of
the Munsters who fought next day were newly come from Ireland and new
to the life. Lads from Kerry and Cork, who, a year before, had never
dreamed of marching in the ranks of the British Army.

The Regiment moved on, and darkness fell as the skirl of the Irish
pipes broke out, playing a marching tune. The Munsters were wild with
enthusiasm, they were strong with the invincible strength of faith and
high hope, for they had with them the vital conviction of success,
the inspiration that scorns danger--which is the lasting heritage of
the Irish; theirs still and theirs to remain when great armaments and
armies and empires shall be swept away, because it is immovable as the
eternal stars.

       *       *       *       *       *

On the morning of May the 9th, 1915, the Third Infantry Brigade were
ordered to attack. Their right was on the Cinder Track, and their left
on the Orchard Redoubt. The Munster Fusiliers were the assaulting
Battalion, with the 4th Royal Welsh Fusiliers; the Gloucesters and
South Wales Borderers in reserve.

The morning of the 9th broke incredibly still and fair, touching the
land with the strange suggestion of unreality, which is part of the
mystery of early dawn; and the Rue du Bois, for all its desolation, was
for a moment beautiful with the spaciousness of peace. Night dews were
still in the air, and the first coming of the sun was not far distant
when sustained thunder pervaded the whole world. The bombardment of the
enemy's trenches had begun, and the noise grew to the dimensions of
intensest force, crashing and roaring with the rage of a storm at sea.
The object of the bombardment was to cut gaps in the barbed wire in
front of the Battalion, and for seven minutes the torrent of sound tore
and rent the air. Only for thirty minutes the guns spoke, and on the
amazed instant of silence Colonel Rickard gave the order for attack.
Cheering wildly the men followed him over the breastworks, with a rush
that swept them across the open under deadly fire to a little ditch,
some half-way between the British and German lines. There they were
to lie down and take cover while the Artillery again bombarded, only
continuing the rush when the fire lifted.

[Illustration: LIEUTENANT-COLONEL V. G. H. RICKARD

2nd Royal Munster Fusiliers, killed while gallantly leading the
Battalion at Rue du Bois, 9th May, 1915

Record of Service:--South African War, 1902--Served as Adjutant,
2nd Royal Munster Fusiliers, operations in the Transvaal, April to
May, 1902. Operations in Orange River Colony, February, April and
May, 1902. Queen's Medal, with three clasps. Promoted Temporary
Lieutenant-Colonel, 8th March, 1915.]

  [_To face p. 38_]

As they crossed the first hundred and fifty yards to the given point,
Colonel Rickard fell, killed by a bullet that struck the spinal column
of the neck. No one who knew him could ever doubt that he would have
chosen any other end than to die leading the Regiment he so loved
all his life; he gained the perfect death that takes no thought of
self, and which, in all truth, is swallowed up in victory.

Captain Campbell Dick, leading with magnificent dash, carried on B
Company with 5 and 6 Platoons, led to admiration by Lieutenant Price
and Lieutenant Horsfall; by this time the close-range fire of the
Germans poured like rain from thunder-clouds. Caring nothing at all
for the enemy's bullets, Captain Dick swept on, followed by his men,
his great buoyant spirit lifted to the very heights by the joy of the
charge. If life may truly be measured by its intensity, the Munsters
lived well and dangerously in those moments. Captain Dick, gifted, as
has been said of another very brave officer, "with a certain devilry
of spirit" and "a ceaseless militancy in life and death," was well
known to be a man of unshaken nerve and flame-like attributes; as
he reached the second line of the German trenches he stood on the
enemy's breast-works, quite indifferent to the danger which lay on
every side, and standing as he often stood cheering a winner in the
old days in Ireland, he waved his cap and shouted to his men, "Come
on, the Munsters!" A moment after, he fell into the German trenches,
and the Company he commanded dashed onwards with Lieutenant Price and
Lieutenant Horsfall, and were enveloped in the very heart of the grey
enemy forces. Lieutenant Carrigan and Lieutenant Harcourt brought the
machine guns over the parapet of the German first line, and there faced
an enfilading fire that beat and battered upon the men, who, without
wavering, held grimly to the trenches; a little further up the line
Lieutenant Sealy King died most gallantly as he dashed to a renewed
attack.

[Illustration: CAPTAIN J. CAMPBELL-DICK

2nd Royal Munster Fusiliers, killed in action 9th May, 1915

Record of Service:--South African War, 1899-1902--Advance on Kimberley,
including action at Belmont; operations in the Transvaal, West of
Pretoria, July to 29th November, 1900; operations in Orange River
Colony, May to 29th November, 1900, including actions at Linaley (27th
June), Bethlehem (6th and 7th July), and Wittenbergen (1st to 29th
July); operations in Cape Colony, South of Orange River, 1899-1900;
operations in Transvaal, 30th November, 1900, to January, 1901;
operations in Orange River Colony and Cape Colony, September, 1901,
to 31st May, 1902; operations in Cape Colony, North of Orange River;
Despatches, London Gazette, September 19th, 1901. Queen's Medal with
three clasps; King's Medal with two clasps.]

  [_To face p. 40_]

The Regiments on the left and right being unable to get near the line
where the Munsters were fighting, the position became that of a forlorn
hope; but the fighting stuff of which the Munster Fusiliers are made,
does not break. Their dash and coolness drew words of admiration from
the Artillery officers who were observing, and the men, almost entirely
without officers or N.C.O.'s, rallied and fought with unabated courage.

Only 300 yards away was the safety of the British trenches, but between
that point and where the Battalion fought the gulf might as well have
been as wide as eternity.

The hail of shells and the rain of bullets never ceased, and as the
time went on and the Battalion was unsupported, Major Gorham, then in
command and wounded in the arm, sent a message back that the assault
was held up by the great breaking superiority of the enemy's forces.

Once again the heavy guns boomed out, pitching shell after shell
into the German lines, and under cover of this protective fire the
Battalion withdrew. Incidents of great self-sacrifice were many during
the retirement. Sergeant Gannon carried one officer and four wounded
comrades out under fire; Private Barry, himself mortally wounded, and
only a slight slip of a boy from Cork, brought in Captain Hawkes, one
of the biggest officers in the Battalion. Captain Hawkes was severely
wounded in three places, and could not move, and as he carried his
officer to safety, Private Barry fell, dying heroically, his death a
tribute to the feeling that so strongly existed between officers and
men.

       *       *       *       *       *

So the Munsters came back after their day's work; they formed up again
in the Rue du Bois, numbering 200 men and three officers. It seems
almost superfluous to make any further comment.

       *       *       *       *       *

In a garden near a place called Windy Corner, Colonel Rickard is buried
at the head of a line of graves. As Father Gleeson wrote: "The Munsters
who gave their lives so heroically and cheerfully, have, even in death,
at their head, their kindly and loving leader, who so much inspired
them and cheered us all."

Honest and brave soldiers, the world must go on without you, and those
who are left to mourn you must face what remains in life with a little
of your own fine spirit. But your lives and your great deaths have
enriched the story of the world, the story of Ireland and the story of
the Battalion, even though, through all the voices and all the sounds
of life, we listen for your voices, and will listen still in vain.

[Illustration: THE MUNSTERS AT HULLOCH

September 25th, 1915

  _Drawn by F Matania._]

  [_To face p. 45._]




                        THE MUNSTERS AT HULLOCH

                                                _September 25th, 1915._

    "In a trench upon a battlefield of France himself is lying,
     And shall never set potatoes any more.
     Just himself and me together, in the spring and autumn weather,
     Will not set or dig potatoes any more."

                                   OONA BALL.


Below the château of Vaudricourt there is a wood which closes it around
with a sense of security belonging to fir woods, and the zone of pines
is dense and fragrant.

On the night of September 23rd, 1915, the Royal Munster Fusiliers
marched from the little village of Philosophe and bivouacked in the
Vaudricourt domain. The battalion was on the march again, and that
dim, cloudy night they trooped in under the shelter and lighted their
camp fires.

The whole effect was mysterious and unreal as things seen in dreams;
the columns of luminous smoke soared upwards, illuminating the low
strong branches of the trees, and around the fires the men lay huddled
in their great-coats, grouped within the circles of flickering light.

Just as the fires were dying down into blackness a little incident
that memory dwells upon changed the Vaudricourt woods into an undying
picture for those who saw it. One of the men stretched out his arm
and placed a lighted candle on a branch just over his head, and as
though this simple act appealed to the memories and imaginations of his
comrades, in a moment the pine woods of Vaudricourt became transformed
into a forest of Christmas trees. One after another the tiny flames
appeared, and burned like a hundred little glittering shrines. God
knows what memories of childhood and things that were far enough away
from war it recalled to the hearts of these men.

Yet the memory of the clouded night, the whisper of the wind in the
trees, and the woods of Vaudricourt, bright with the soldiers' candles,
comes like a gleam across the vast darkness and lights again the faces
of the war-worn battalion once more on its way to the fighting line.

       *       *       *       *       *

On September 24th the Munsters took up their position close to La
Routoire Farm. Beyond these trenches the Germans occupied a long,
sweeping ridge of down land; a space of quiet scenery spread out to
the horizon like a calm sea. On the German side were Auchy, Hulloch,
and Loos, and on the British Cambrin, Vermelle, Philosophe, and
Mazingarbe, and between them the desolate ground from which living
things are fenced and barred out. The trenches divided the two main
roads at right angles, and the Hulloch road played an important part
in subsequent operations. Here and there over the grass, piles of slag
stood out like stubborn towers, black and desolate as some minor,
haunting fragment of an evil dream. They masked the mines, and were
treacherous, cruel defences on a poor, wasted land.

The weather was gloriously fine, and under the heavy bombardment of
the British guns the whole sky-line seemed to be in eruption. Huge
masses of chalk-dust and smoke lifted hundreds of feet into the air,
and rolled slowly away like a drowsy cloud trailing near the ground and
reluctant to depart from this "best of all possible worlds."

[Illustration: MAJOR J. W. CONSIDINE

2nd Royal Munster Fusiliers, killed while leading the Battalion at
Hulloch, September 25th, 1915

Record of Service:--Left Sandhurst in April, 1902. Mohmand Expedition,
1908. King's Medal and clasp. France, April 11th, 1915. Took temporary
command of the 2nd Battalion, May 10th.]

  [_To face p. 49._]

In the grey light of the morning of September 25th the British guns
opened a furious fire, joined by the rattle of rifle and machine guns.
Without fuss or disorder the Munsters awaited the moment when they
should face a pouring stream of bullets and charge into the teeth of
the storm.

Led by Major Considine, the Munsters pushed up the winding trenches to
the front line, exchanging a word or two as they went, and relying, as
all men do in time of crisis, upon those unexplained resources that
stand for all that is best in a soldier. When they reached the front
line the leading company was blocked, for the trenches were full of
men, with their faces coloured an ashen blue and the buttons and badges
on their coats turned green. Some were dead and others unconscious, for
they were the helpless victims of gas fumes.

When the Munsters charged over the parapet the Hulloch road was alive
with troops racing towards the German trenches, but to the front all
was quiet, and a number of khaki figures in blue gas helmets lay
very still out over the grass towards the German lines, having so
encountered that "last and greatest of all fine sights" in the cold
dimness of half oblivion.

The fire from the enemy's guns increased as the Munsters advanced with
a yell, and the wire ahead of them was apparently unbroken.

Leading "A" Company, Major Considine fell in the advance, and as
he sank down Sergeant-major Jim Leahy rushed forward to carry him
into safety. He, too, was hit through the heart by a German bullet,
and when he fell the advancing Munsters cheered him as they raced
ahead, carrying with them the memory of the two men who had fallen
so gallantly, into their fierce charge. Both Major Considine and
Sergeant-major Leahy are buried on the battlefield almost where they
fell, 800 yards west of Vermelles.

Up the long-deserted, grass-grown Hulloch road six batteries came at a
gallop, wheeling boldly across the open under heavy fire, the Munsters,
in conjunction with the brigade, following at a run. Great volcanoes of
black smoke shot up immediately as the bombers worked down the German
trenches. Lieutenant Denis Conran with six of his company occupied a
support trench crowded with German troops, and for forty-eight hours
held this small salient of the advance, waging a steady war with
unwavering determination and grit. The enemy were all around this
small handful, and from where they fought they could see the village
of Hulloch being knocked to pieces like a card-house, and again on the
right the shell-torn havoc of the advance to Loos, the chalk pit, and
Hill 70. The larger stride had been taken at last, and the men in their
gas helmets with their five days' growth of beard looked strange and
almost Oriental as they advanced, receded, and again advanced as the
deadly conflict rolled onwards.

Towards evening the weather turned bitterly cold and heavy rain began
to fall. The smell of poison gas, shell fumes, and blood became almost
overpowering. Among the torn bodies the flotsam of war lay unheeded in
the mud. Innumerable blankets, rifles, caps, belts, and bloodstained
dressings told that a memory was all that was left to many of those who
had been alive and glad a few hours before, and everywhere there were
dead, dying, and wounded men, and all the helpless misery of battle.

The troops charged again, and the remnants of the Munsters raised
another cheer and rallied for the last rush, and then the strain ended
as you may see men pulled suddenly over at a tug-of-war. Four columns
of German soldiers filed out of the trenches, holding their hands above
their heads.

The road from Loos to Hulloch was clear at a cost of 1,000,000 shells
and 50,000 men. A right of way was established at a price that no one
can ever tell, since broken lives and hearts are not entered into any
known roll of honour, and this right of way was made good by the simple
valour and indomitable constancy of the ordinary man.

For them there is no return, for those who waited for them no
more reason to cross the days off the calendar; stillness has
intervened--the stillness that marks the passing of the mortal to
immortality. Tears are useless, broken hearts useless; life will not
alter because of these things. The days go on, and we with them; those
who have gone have "bought eternity with a little hour, and are not
dead."

And the road is now clear from Loos to Hulloch.




                          THE STAND AT ETREUX

                BEING AN ACCOUNT WRITTEN BY AN OFFICER
                    OF THE R.M.F., PRISONER OF WAR


                       MAINTZ-AM-RHEIN, GERMANY,

                                                     _July 16th, 1915_.

I send now, by special permission, the full account of the engagement
of August 27th, 1914.

The night of the 26th the Battalion bivouacked at Fesmy with B Company
(Captain Simms commanding) on outpost duty at Chapeau Rouge (Sketch A).

At 4 a.m. on the 27th D Company (Captain Jervis commanding) was sent up
as a reinforcement. The rôle allotted to the Battalion was rear guard
to the retiring 1st Army Corps, with the remainder of the Brigade in
support. Our general direction was Guise, and we were on the right
of the Expeditionary Force, the French having occupied Bergues on our
right on the 26th. At 8 a.m. on the 27th, our scouts having reported
the village of Bergues evacuated, Major Charrier sent Captain Woods
with A Company to occupy it. About two hours later the enemy attacked
us here sharply, and on receiving this information, the Commanding
Officer sent a troop of the 15th Hussars (placed together with 1
section 118 Battery R.F.A., under him for the day) as a reinforcement;
at the same time he sent one platoon of A Company (Captain Rawlinson
commanding) to assist his withdrawal from the East end of Fesmy.

[Illustration: SKETCH A]

With the exception of a portion of this platoon under Captain Emerson,
which succeeded in joining up and withdrawing with Captain Woods, the
remainder of the Battalion rejoined Battalion Headquarters later in the
morning. The enemy was now appearing in small numbers North of Chapeau
Rouge, and North-east of Fesmy. From the cross roads at Chapeau Rouge
a good view of the surrounding country was obtainable, which was of
a very enclosed nature, the hedges being thick and high. By 11 a.m.
B and D Companies were strongly entrenched, and a brisk action began
near Fesmy, and we were soon busy with rifles, machine guns, and our
two 18-pounders. The enemy seemed to be advancing mainly from the
North-east and rapidly approaching the village. An enemy's aeroplane
passed over the position shortly before noon, our effort to bring it
down meeting with no success. A few minutes later the rain came down in
torrents, and under cover of it the enemy collected to attack Chapeau
Rouge. This attack commenced at 1 p.m., and having carried out our
object of delaying the enemy, the two Companies engaged withdrew on
Fesmy without loss, and having arrived there took up their position in
support of the remainder of the Battalion, which had been hotly engaged
some time. The two guns were firing rapidly. Lieutenant Chute with his
machine guns was having, as he expressed it, "the time of his life." A
civilian might be pardoned for questioning whether lying full length in
6 inches of muddy water under heavy fire warranted the description.

However, he undoubtedly had some excellent targets and did remarkably
well, and ammunition was not spared. Some of the enemy penetrated the
village, a very dashing young German officer at their head; he fell
wounded, and some prisoners were taken.

At 2.30 p.m. the withdrawal recommenced, D Company as left flank guard,
and the movement across the country was very difficult and slow, gaps
having to be hacked in the hedges as the Battalion fell back.

We were all quite pleased with the result of our first brush with the
enemy, which cost only six or eight wounded. B Company was detailed
as right flank guard and occupied a group of farm buildings some
1,500 yards from Fesmy. We thought our troubles over for the day, but
Major Charrier, who took no chances, issued careful orders for the
continuation of our withdrawal, B Company in advance and C Company
rearguard. We passed through Oisy, fired at by a few Cavalry, C Company
remained behind to hold the village of Oisy while we "made good"
the rise to the South. We were hardly clear when the enemy attacked
again, Captain Rawlinson holding the East and Lieutenant Awdry the
Northern exits. Our two guns and two Maxims replied vigorously, and
the cross-fire which resulted must have been pretty damaging. Offers
of assistance were refused, and C Company withdrew successfully and
proceeded to rejoin. Before they could do this a heavy fire from rifle
and Maxim guns was opened on us from East and South, and it became
obvious that we were cut off. Our guns galloped South for the purpose
of coming into action; as they passed a house a shell crashed into them
and a second struck the team, knocking out three or four gunners and
two horses; the remainder dismounted, and in the face of a murderous
fire brought their guns into action. In addition to the artillery and
rifle fire from the East, a raking rifle fire took us in flank from the
environs of Etreux, and it was this position the Commanding Officer
decided to attack. Lieutenant O'Malley was sent to C Company to direct
them to keep the road clear as Lieutenant Chute was to open fire with
his machine guns at the enemy advancing from North. Lieutenant O'Malley
bicycled back under heavy fire, and a couple of ammunition carts came
up to us at a gallop before the horses were shot, indeed a gallant feat.

[Illustration: SKETCH B]

B Company, with half A Company in support, shook out to attack. The
enemy was located in a loopholed house on the West side of the road
(see Sketch B), and also in the near fields. On the other side of the
road a farmhouse had caught fire and blazed furiously. The Commanding
Officer, Captain Wise, and Lieutenant Mosely succeeded in approaching
to within fifty yards of this house, creeping along a ditch followed
by their men. The enemy's fire was intense, and though Captain
Wise succeeded in reaching the house, the whole party was put out of
action. Major Charrier renewed the attack, and again later made a third
attack, with his usual determination, but was shot dead at close range
in the last charge. B Company was heavily engaged from both sides of
the road, and Captain Simms was killed gallantly leading the attack.
C Company reinforced this position, and D Company, which was in the
orchard East, converged into the open and was met by a flank attack
from the enemy holding the cutting. Aided by the fire of a platoon of
A Company, D Company advanced by alternate rushes to within 70 yards
of the hedge, where the officer in command (Captain Jervis) ordered a
charge. The men sprang up with a cheer, fixed bayonets and charged.
The enemy's fire redoubled, and Lieutenant Phayre fell, shot through
the heart. Man after man went down, and only Captain Jervis reached
the hedge alive, subsequently falling into the enemy's hands. The
remnants of the Battalion fell back to the orchard where Captain Hall
was wounded. Lieutenant Gower organised a defence facing N.S.E. and
West. The ammunition was exhausted and most of the gunners killed,
Major Bayley wounded. The enemy had entirely surrounded the Battalion,
but, encouraged by the few remaining officers, the men fought on until
9 p.m. Sounds of approaching help were listened for in vain, and the
Battalion, reduced to 4 officers and 256 N.C.O.'s and men, surrendered.
The Battalion was engaged against 7 Battalions German Infantry, 3
Batteries, Cavalry and many Maxim guns.

[Illustration: OFFICERS OF THE 2ND BATTALION ROYAL MUNSTER FUSILIERS,
MAY 1915

For names see Appendix, page 111]

  [_To face p. 66._]




                               APPENDIX


                LETTER FROM CAPTAIN H. S. JERVIS, 29TH
                    AUGUST, 1914, TO MRS. CHARRIER

                                           _France, August 29th, 1914._

MY DEAR MRS. CHARRIER,

It is inexpressibly painful to me to have to write to you to tell you
that the Major, our splendid Commanding Officer, fell in action the day
before yesterday, while leading his regiment most gallantly against
overwhelming odds.

The regiment was left behind, and for several hours fell back fighting
under the personal direction of your husband, who, although well aware
of the impossible nature of his task, issued his orders and made
all arrangements with the precision which made him so well known in
Aldershot.

Eventually the Germans worked round to the rear and cut us off
completely, the key of their position being a loopholed house. The
Major personally led two charges in a magnificent attempt to capture
this. In the first of these he was wounded, but insisted upon still
retaining command and cheering us on. Shortly afterwards he was wounded
again, but even this did not keep him from what he considered his
duty. He heroically continued the direction of the action till after
sunset--six hours intermittent fighting.

Mr. Gower came up to make a report to him and found him near one of
our guns which had been put out of action. In reply to Mr. Gower he
said, "All right, we will line the hedge; follow me." Still leading and
setting an example to all, he was shot a third time, and mortally. He
fell in the road.

Yesterday we sent out a party of our men to collect and bury the dead,
and they found Paul Charrier lying as he had fallen, head towards the
enemy. The Sergeant told me he looked as if he was asleep. They buried
him, with eight other officers of the regiment who were killed, in a
grave separate from the men.

I personally received orders and made reports to him during the entire
day, and never for an instant did he lead me to suspect that he was in
any way worried as to our eventual safety.

The action, involving as it did the loss of an entire battalion,
killed, wounded, and prisoners, may be looked on by some as a disaster,
and the highest praise that I can think attainable by a commanding
officer was his, in that in spite of this he retained the entire trust
and confidence of all ranks to the last.

The nearest village to the action is Etreux, I think.

All his personal trinkets were buried with him. His heavier kit was on
the ---- regimental transport. I believe this got away.

Six of us, officers, are prisoners here, and 500 men of the battalion,
many of whom are wounded. My brother officers and the N.C.O.'s and men
of the battalion ask me to tender to you and your family our deepest
sympathy in your irreparable loss, which will be felt throughout the
Division, but most of all in the old regiment.

                          Believe me, etc.,
                                Yours very sincerely,
                                             H. S. JERVIS.


 LETTER FROM CAPTAIN JERVIS, 2ND BATTALION ROYAL MUNSTER FUSILIERS, TO
 THE FATHER OF LIEUTENANT CAROL AWDRY, WHO WAS KILLED AT ETREUX, 27TH
 AUGUST, 1914

As the senior of the surviving officers of the action fought by the
regiment on August 27th, it is my sad duty to have to write and inform
you that your boy lost his life that day while leading his men against
overwhelming odds. The Army was, at the time, withdrawing, and the
battalion was occupying an important position covering the movement.

In order the better to safeguard the retreat of the remainder, our
withdrawal was delayed by some hours. We were attacked on three sides,
and when we moved off finally it was found that the greatly superior
forces of the Germans had enabled them to cut us off from our main
body. Faced by odds of six or eight to one, we put up the best fight
we could until compelled by fire from all sides to surrender. E
Company--to which your son belonged, of course--was chosen to watch
our right rear (on the N.E.) as the battalion withdrew to the South,
and Captain Rawlinson selected your son to take his platoon out to an
exposed position, the far end of a village named Fesmy, through which
our line of retreat lay.

He performed the duty in a most able manner, and although harassed
with a nasty fire, he held on until the battalion withdrew, and
then rejoined with his little force intact. It was a commendable
performance, worthy of one of far greater age and experience than your
son. His Company then continued the withdrawal until we came to the
next village (Oisy), when it was detailed to act as rearguard. Again
they were sharply engaged, by largely increased forces this time, but
they gallantly held their own, your son again holding a detached
position at important cross-roads, and again the battalion was able
to withdraw in safety. Your boy's party was the last to come in, and
though he lost a few men he saved many more. It was now six o'clock
(p.m.), and it was then discovered that they were cut off from the
main body. The battalion shook out to the attack in an endeavour to
break through, every officer doing good work, your son no less than
the others. With sword drawn, he led his men in support of the attack,
which was in progress in front (to the South), and as he advanced he
fell, shot through the lungs. His death was painless and practically
instantaneous. He was buried with his eight brother officers, who fell
the same day, in one grave.


 LETTER FROM CAPTAIN JERVIS, 2ND BATTALION ROYAL MUNSTER FUSILIERS, TO
 MRS. C. T. F. CHUTE

The regiment was left in a somewhat exposed position, and the orders
for a withdrawal seem to have gone astray. Chuty, with his guns, which
he handled during the day with really wonderful skill, covered the
withdrawal of my company at mid-day. It was pouring with rain, and
with entire disregard to personal comfort, characteristic of him, he
lay down in six inches of water to manipulate his guns the better. The
Germans were crossing the front, and he never neglected an opportunity
of delaying their advance. He withdrew them from one position to
another, all day forming an invaluable escort to the two field guns we
had attached to us.

The withdrawal continued through a village, at about 5.30 p.m., and
at the other side of it he came into action again, firing right down
the road, on both edges of which Captain Rawlinson's company was
withdrawing. Owing to the help of your husband's guns the company
got safely through and rejoined the battalion. The enemy was now on
three sides of us, and their artillery opened fire. Chuty brought his
machine guns back at the gallop along the road under a positive hail
of lead. It was a splendid feat and was successfully accomplished, and
once again the guns were placed in position. We were now completely
surrounded, and your husband tried to cross the road to try and find a
target to aim at. As he crossed he was shot in the right side and thigh
and fell dead.

Up to the last he was cheery and full of spirits as ever; in fact, he
was the life and soul of the mess. It is impossible to realise that
we'll never hear his voice again. He will leave a large gap, not only
in the regiment, but in each and all of his brother officers' hearts.
It may be some small consolation to you to know that before the action
he was looked upon as the best machine-gun officer of the Brigade, and
his work during the day only served to confirm this view. Yesterday,
the 28th, the Germans allowed us to send out a burial party of our
own men, and they found Chuty, and buried him, with the eight other
officers of the regiment who were killed, in a grave separate from the
men. He was buried with all his personal effects on him. His heavier
kit is with the regimental transport, the only part of the regiment to
escape.

May I, on behalf of the surviving officers and men of the regiment, now
prisoners in German hands, tender our most sincere sympathy for a loss
which we know only too well is one which can never be replaced.


 EXTRACT FROM A LETTER FROM LIEUTENANT THOMAS WRITTEN TO HIS MOTHER

I landed at Havre on 12th August, and we stayed in camp two days.
After that we came a long way by train to Le Nouvion, and marched to
a little place called Boué, where we went into billets. I stayed in a
lovely old farm house, and the people were awfully good to me and fed
me on the best of everything. Well, then we were marched right up to
Belgium in two days--about fifty miles, to a place called Grand Rong,
and the second day thirty-two miles; the next day we fought a small
battle just on the frontier, without any losses, and returned right
away back to Fesing, just near where we started all the machinery; then
the real fighting started. The first I knew of it was being roused at
3 a.m. by an orderly from Headquarters, to proceed with my platoon to
reinforce another Company on outpost who were being attacked; there we
fought for two days, and just as we thought all was over we found we
were surrounded, and a desperate battle began. I could not describe
the horrors of it on paper, but we were three-fourths of a Battalion
fighting six German Battalions, without any chance of relief, and I
think we really did our best. We had a section of artillery and two
machine-guns with us, which helped a lot, but they were very soon
knocked out. Our Colonel[1] was a wonder to see. He had absolutely no
fear, and I followed him and helped him all I could in every charge,
but he was blown to pieces in the end by a shell. We had, I think, ten
officers killed and five wounded, and the remainder prisoners. I was
wounded in two places--a bullet right through my throat and all the
biceps of my left arm blown away by a piece of shell. My throat, of
course, is bad and very troublesome. They put in a tube so as to allow
me to breathe, and I can eat and drink, but I can't speak. All the
officers were sent off to Germany yesterday, and the men who were able
to travel, so I am alone among the Germans, except for three men, who
are very bad. This town is about the size of Bandon, and is just one
big hospital; every house is full of wounded, and flies, and the smells
are awful. Well, although we were beaten, I believe we gave as good
as we got. We killed and wounded a great many Germans, and they say
themselves that we made a gallant fight of it. When I come home I will
be able to tell you some strange tales, but I can't write it all. Our
fellows who were in the South African War say it was child's play to
this, and there never was a battle as fierce as the one we were knocked
out in.


               SIR A. CONAN DOYLE AND THE BATTLE OF MONS


In March 1915 Sir A. Conan Doyle gave an address on "The Great Battles
of the War," in the Usher Hall, Edinburgh, to a vast and enthusiastic
assemblage. The following extract from the _Scotsman_ of the next
morning refers to the Munsters:--

 Sir Arthur, commencing with the Battle of Mons, pointed out that
 there the real impact of the German army fell upon two Brigades of
 the British. It was true that the British had fallen back from the
 defence of a peninsular sweep of the canal, which created "a dangerous
 salient" regarded from the outset as tactically indefensible; but,
 when the British Commander-in-Chief received from the French the
 fateful telegram which compelled his retirement, the battle was in a
 state in which it was difficult to say who had won and who had lost.
 The outstanding incidents in the masterly-conducted retreat were
 finely told--the forced marches of the fatigued troops, "who had the
 depression of defeat without understanding why they had to retire";
 the heroic rearguard actions fought, notably by the Cheshires, the
 Gordons, and the Munsters; the saving of the guns by the 9th Lancers;
 the hopeless odds which General Smith-Dorrien encountered of three
 to one in men and six to one in artillery, and the dauntless defence
 by the remnant of L Battery. It was one of the misfortunes of a
 widespread action, he said, that it was very difficult to keep in
 touch with all units; they never knew what might become of their
 messengers. Three times in the course of the Mons retreat, first in
 the case of the Cheshires, then the Gordons, and thirdly the Munsters,
 regiments were left without orders. Messengers were shot down, and
 orders to retire never reached these gallant units, which fought
 on and on, long after their comrades had retired, until, utterly
 exhausted in strength and material, the remnants had to surrender. If
 ever in the world surrender was justifiable, he remarked, it was under
 these circumstances. In the case of the Cheshires, the Gordons, and
 the Munsters, the same thing happened, showing that great attention
 should be paid to the point as to how far troops lying at a distance
 should be notified as to what was going on.


 LETTER FROM LIEUTENANT-COLONEL G. J. RYAN D.S.O., TO A FRIEND

Yes, disaster again, eight of our best officers, including those
you knew--Thomson, Durand, Day, O'Brien and Pemberton--killed while
gallantly leading their men; three others, including the Colonel,
wounded, and two hundred men killed and wounded. A sad story when we
think of those, but a story, too, of bravery and endurance.

I will first tell you briefly what occurred, and then go on to give
details which you will want to hear. The First Division marched at one
hour's notice, at 6.30 p.m., on the night of Sunday, December 20th, lay
down for three hours before dawn, marched out at dawn on 21st, a halt
at 9 a.m. in heavy rain and cold for breakfast, and on again.

The leading Brigade deployed at 2 o'clock for an attack in relief of
the Indian Division. The Third Brigade followed, and were put in first
after 2 p.m., the Welsh Regiment and the Gloucesters, supported by
the Munsters and the South Wales Borderers. By dusk the Munsters were
taken from support, and put out to the right to fill a gap between the
Gloucesters and the next Brigade of the Division.

No food or rest came to the men with nightfall, and all that night was
spent in endeavouring to recover trenches originally held by Indians
from which they had been forced to retire. Before dawn came the order
that all trenches not retaken, originally in British possession, must
be captured, the general attack to continue at 7 a.m.

Still no food or rest for men continually under arms since Sunday
night. By gallant advances, often in the open, under heavy fire, in
swampy, boggy country and drenching rain, the advance continued.

The line was straightened out, but the enemy contested every foot,
and only retired when he saw the attack was serious, to his original
trenches. From that a continuous heavy fire was brought to bear on
exhausted and heavily tried troops, but when night came on Tuesday,
23rd, the Division was firmly established in its lines, and not one
foot of trench has been given up since, nor was a single British
prisoner taken. The Third Brigade had a nasty bit, and the Munsters
worst of all, an open bit, with dykes full of water, old trenches and
bog. The attack began at 7, and by 9 they came under a wicked fire. The
men went gamely on, most splendidly led by their officers, but it was
no good. Officer after officer was killed, and the companies, pinned
to the ground by fire, split up and extended. There they lay all day.
Night came, no orders--not a man back, except some wounded who trickled
back. By midnight came the order to get word out to the Munsters to get
their companies to a place of safety and retire. I only got the Colonel
in at 4 a.m., after two search parties had failed to find him. He had
been lying there badly wounded since 10 a.m. the previous day, and so
the companies got back one by one. I will now tell you how it came
about I was not touched myself.

I had been out the whole of the night before with Major Thomson.

He and I insisted we would not go on into nothingness to be cut up
piecemeal. We went out in the dusk towards the enemy's trenches,
made a good line about a thousand yards out, sent back for spades,
dug in, made good, left one company out, and were back about 4 a.m.
and reported to the Colonel, who was in Reserve with the other two
companies; lay down to rest for an hour or so, and the Colonel woke us
saying: "Orders just come; the attack must be continued at 7 a.m., and
all trenches formerly occupied by the Indians must be retaken."

Soon after 6.30 I was just going out with all the rest, and the men
ready to move off, when the Colonel said to me: "Ryan, I am taking
every man out on this show, and nobody quite knows where we are
going or what is in front of us. I have no time to write. You must
go back to Brigade Headquarters, see the General, and arrange about
ammunition and transport. Collect anything you can and report where
and how the Battalion is gone; the whole Brigade attacked, much split
up." I collected six men, all I could find, got back to Brigade
Headquarters, all under fire, reported, and was sent to fetch up
doctor, stretcher bearers, ammunition, food, and stragglers, everything
having disappeared in the furious advance of the previous day and
night. The men were without food or water for 46 hours, except what
they had on them. By 11 o'clock I was back at Brigade Headquarters,
reported I had done all I could, that the Regiment had disappeared
into nothingness--not a trace of them--no reports in--heavy firing
everywhere. We were the right regiment of the Brigade, the first
Brigade on our right, and pushed into a gap. I kept my six men and
went out to locate the Battalion by yelling out, using my glasses
and meeting wounded men. I sized up trouble. I went to the Brigadier
and reported. He had no help to give, no men left to put in. I sent
out again, splitting my men into patrols of two each, promised them
anything if they could get to the companies and get reports.

They went out and were back again by 8 o'clock (it was dark at 4) all
of them under fire, with reports. "Very few officers left, companies
lying out under fire, search-lights of the enemy going up, many
casualties, no orders, Colonel wounded, two Senior Majors killed. Send
us orders, please." I reported to the Brigade again, saying something
_must_ be done, for, if still there when daybreak came, not a man would
be left. All this time they were getting no support from any regiment
on their right or left, in a bad gap of bog, and dyke and mud. By 9
a.m. no orders had got to me to try and get them back.

The Brigade people, quite unable to communicate with them themselves,
the rest of the attack hung up by fire, and things looked rotten.

I had collected odds and ends--food, cookers, everything I could--but
at my wit's end to know what to do as I realized only too well the
impossible position the Regiment was in. Wounded came trickling in; to
make matters worse, it was pitch black night and beastly cold, with
heavy rain--not a light or a sign or a road or a path, only dykes,
knee-deep in mud and slime, and always the German rifle fire and ours,
intermittent, and flames shot up like rockets by them.

It was 10 o'clock before the Brigadier's orders got to me to get orders
out to them to retire, and even by then I had not a single unwounded
man left of all the four companies that had gone out at 7 a.m. to show
me where they had got to. Once more I called on my trusty six who had
located them at dusk, and sent them out in three parties, again with
definite orders to come back to me at a certain point where I was alone
but for a few stray men and no officers.

By midnight, to my relief, I got the remnant of the four companies in,
worn out, scattered, and starved, as their officers had fallen and many
men in the advance. All they could do was to follow my guides in. I
fed them and put them away. Result--wounded and some others left out.
I called for volunteers and took a party out with stretchers and got
some in, but we drew a blank for the Colonel and Major Thomson. The
Adjutant had come in not wounded, but dead beat, and could not quite
say where the Colonel was. At 2 a.m., or nearly 3, I think it was, I
went round again and collected the exhausted non-commissioned officers
who had come in, called for volunteers again, put the machine-gun
officer in charge, and said, "Do not come back without the Colonel
and Major Thomson." I had some bad suspense until the party returned
carrying the Colonel wounded and poor Thomson dead. All the rescue work
was done under rifle fire and many wounded brought in. All next day we
could not get more, the ground so swept by fire. At dusk I moved them
to a village 1-1/2 miles in rear of Brigade Reserve. From that day on
we have two companies out of four at a time always in trenches about
one mile from our disaster; eternal sniping and shooting, no one can
move up to the trenches by day. Rain had fallen still, in torrents, the
trenches knee-deep in water. I have had many sick since Christmas Day.
Last night I had three killed in relieving. To-night I took the two
relieving companies up myself, right off the road into bog and dirt,
but off the beaten track, and got the relief through with no loss. The
Colonel is at Boulogne and doing well there. Of the officers the last
two regulars left have knocked up since Christmas and must go home.

I am keeping fit and well, having what I want, responsibility and
command, and have just got to do my best to get officers and men
through, now that the best of our officers are gone. Night and day
are the same, the indoor part spent in the most utterly be-shelled
and ruined village you can imagine, and every other mark a shell or
bullet hole. I had eight of the saddest letters to write home, besides
three others of news of the wounded, but have not had time to write
a full account to anyone but you, and that not until to-night, when
I feel fitter and not so tired, but you will tell all who want to
know--all who care for the Regiment and feel for the losses--all they
may be proud to hear, that the Regiment did all and more than they
could; the officers killed all died most gallantly leading their men,
and the men did all that men could do--played up splendidly. I have
never known men do so much, and I am very proud of them. In a special
order by Sir Douglas Haig he mentioned the Munsters first in order. He
said:--"Seldom have troops so nobly responded to such a test of their
bravery and endurance."


 LETTER FROM Q.M.-SERGEANT WAINWRIGHT, 2ND R.M.F. (SINCE PROMOTED 2ND
 LIEUTENANT FOR DISTINGUISHED SERVICE IN THE FIELD), TO COLONEL D. G.
 JOHNSTON, LATE R.M.F.

                                                  _27th January, 1915._

We were making preparations for spending our Christmas at this place,
and giving the men as good a show as possible. On the evening of the
20th December, at 6 p.m., we received the order to march at 6.15 p.m.
It was a bit of a rush, but in spite of short notice we marched to time.

The night was very cold, and about 10 p.m. it started to rain, which
added very much to the men's discomfort, as the roads were in a fearful
state and over ankle deep in mud; about 2 a.m. on the morning of the
21st December we got a two hours halt and rested in a broken-down
factory as best we could. Marching again at 4 a.m. we kept on the move
until 10 a.m., and were then kept lying about the road soaked to the
skin--as the rain had not ceased since the previous night--waiting
orders to move on. These orders came about 3 p.m., when we found that
we were to go into the trenches.

Early on the morning of the 23rd, the order came that the trenches
which had once been occupied by our troops, and were at this time in
the enemy's hands (having been lost by native troops) were to be taken
at any cost. The attack started at 7 a.m., led by Colonel Bent, Major
Thomson being second in command. The following officers were commanding
companies:--

"A" Company--Captain Woods; "B" Company--Major Day; "C"
Company--Captain Hugh O'Brien; "D" Company--Major Ryan, D.S.O.

The ground to be crossed was very open country, and owing to the heavy
rains a very sea of mud. From this you will understand the task the
Munsters were put to. Two nights and a day with only two hours rest,
and in this case very little food. Add to this the wet and cold, which
was intense.

The attack was carried out, well controlled, and the trenches reached,
but with very heavy loss; eleven officers-- all of whom we could ill
afford to lose--and 240 rank and file.

On the night of the 23rd, about 11.30 p.m., all we could muster were
Major Ryan, one carriage machine-gun officer, and 150 men. Search
parties were organised and sent out. Captain Pakenham was brought in
wounded in three places, Captain Emerson exhausted and frost-bitten.
By dawn on the morning of the 24th all who were left, including
the wounded, were brought into the village, under heavy fire, in a
thoroughly exhausted condition. The communication trench was waist-deep
in water and mud, and some of the poor wounded had to be actually dug
out of this quagmire.

The following day we moved to a different part of the line, and were in
the trenches until the 8th January, when we were relieved for a rest
until the 13th, when we again came up to the trenches, where we are
now hard at it, with not much likelihood of another rest for some days
to come. Since the 13th, up to date 27th, we have lost, including a few
men to hospital, one officer (Major Ryan, D.S.O., shot dead) and 140
men.

On the 25th the enemy made a general attack along the whole of our
line. This was evidently paving the way for the surprise birthday
gift to the Kaiser on the 27th. About 6 a.m. on the 25th the attack
was started with a heavy rifle and machine-gun fire, and then all our
positions were shelled with heavy guns. Under the fire of these the
attack was pressed home, but although some Regiments had to vacate
their trenches owing to force of numbers, counter attacks were made and
the positions re-taken.

You will be glad to hear that in this attack made by the enemy the
_Munsters_ _did not lose an inch_, but hung to their ground in
spite of the heavy cannonade, which lasted some five hours. We were
congratulated by the Brigadier and Sir John French for the splendid
work done, and were fortunate enough to lose very few men, and mostly
slight wounds.

Major King, who is at present commanding, slightly wounded by shrapnel
in the arm, and also two young officers just joined but not belonging
to the Regiment, received slight cuts from shell splinters. Major Ryan
was killed returning from his visit to the trenches about 11 a.m. on
the 23rd. After he was hit he only lived some few minutes, but was
unconscious to the end. He was an officer of exceptional abilities, and
when the news of his death spread everyone in the Brigade, from the
General down, owned to having lost one of the best men here. He never
spared himself for a minute, and was always doing all he could for the
comfort of his men--spending a lot of his time in the trenches among
the men. On returning from one of these visits he was shot.

I have not given you the names of the officers who fell on the 23rd,
as they have already appeared in the _Gazette_. Colonel Bent was hit
in the front line of trenches, also Major Thomson, who fell across the
trench when wounded; he would not allow himself to be moved, but lay
there directing operations until late in the evening, when he was again
hit, this time the wound being fatal. Captain O'Brien was hit first
badly, but turned to his men saying, "Now is your chance to get your
own back, boys." He fell forward and died facing the enemy. Major Day
was also killed leading his men and died fighting to the end.


                                                  _6th February, 1915._

I had to stop writing this letter on the 27th January, owing to another
attack on our lines, followed by a counter attack, in which our troops
succeeded in dislodging the enemy, inflicting heavy loss and taking
some ground. Our Brigade was relieved a few days after. We are now in
a village billeted, resting and reorganising. The regiment was again
addressed by the Brigadier yesterday and thanked for their work, and
before going the General said from the look of the men it would hardly
be credited that only a few hours ago they were in the trenches in very
severe weather and trying conditions. It is wonderful to see the great
change a few days' rest works on our men, and they now look fit for
anything.

Major Rickard arrived yesterday, and has taken over command of the
Battalion from Major King of the 4th Battalion.

At present we are having very fine weather, and we all hope it
continues, as it will give the men in the trenches a chance to dry
themselves and make their trenches more inhabitable. The rains have
been so heavy, add to this the sudden bursts of thaw and frost, the
country is like a large jelly, and it is almost impossible to keep
the trenches from falling in, especially under heavy shell fire, and
one has to be constantly throwing back the falling earthy liquid with
scoops and improvised ladles made of old tin biscuit boxes, etc.; yet
in spite of all this hardship the men are in wonderful spirits, and
laugh and joke through it.


 OFFICERS IN ACTION AT FESTUBERT

  Lieut.-Colonel A. M. Bent, wounded.
  Major E. P. Thomson, killed.
  Major F. I. Day, killed.
  Major G. J. Ryan.
  Captain A. Gorham.
  Captain G. A. Woods.
  Captain H. C. H. O'Brien, killed.
  Captain W. Emerson.
  Captain R. E. M. Pakenham, died of wounds.
  Captain F. W. Durand, killed.
  Captain F. W. Grantham.
  Captain O. Pemberton, killed.
  Lieutenant J. F. O'Brien, killed.
  Lieutenant H. H. Lake.
  Lieutenant W. E. Molesworth, wounded.
  Second Lieutenant C. H. Carrigan.
  Second Lieutenant R. A. Young, killed.
  Second Lieutenant T. Price.
  Second Lieutenant W. J. King, wounded.

Officers not in the action but present with the Battalion at the time:--

  Major A. E. King (Regimental Transport Officer).
  Lieutenant W. J. Hewett (Temporary Brigade Transport Officer).
  Lieutenant P. Devanney (Quartermaster).

       TOTAL CASUALTIES

          OFFICERS
  Killed      8   Wounded    3

        N.C.O'S. AND MEN
  Killed     21   Wounded  105
  Wounded and Missing        5
  Missing                   61


LETTER FROM SERGEANT-MAJOR RING, 2ND R.M.F., TO COLONEL A. M. BENT,
C.M.G.

The Battalion had about eight miles to march to the trenches, and
the Brigadier rode with Major V. G. H. Rickard at the head, and was
delighted with the men and the high spirits they were in. At 5 a.m.
the artillery started the bombardment, which lasted half an hour, to
cut the wire in front of the Germans' first line. The infantry went
forward to the attack--the Welsh Regiment and ours were the assaulting
Battalions. At 5.30 the assault took place. When the C.O. gave the
order for the attack, every officer and man mounted the parapet with a
cheer. It was really magnificent to see the way they attacked; every
man tried to beat the others to get there first, and were splendidly
led by their officers. Major Rickard was so delighted at the way the
men went about their work that he could not stay, as he had arranged,
to go forward with the second line. He cleared the parapet, but did
not go far, as he was hit by a bullet through the spinal column of
the neck. Death was instantaneous. B Co., led magnificently by
Captain Dick, 5 and 6 Platoons, led by Second Lieutenants Price and
Horsfall, charged and succeeded in reaching the German trenches,
under a hellish fire from artillery and machine-guns. Captain Dick,
as he reached the parapet of the enemy's trenches, turned and waved
his cap, encouraging his men, and then went forward again, and just
as he was about to enter the trench he was hit, and tumbled into the
trench. Another brave officer--his fate is unknown at present. Second
Lieutenants Horsfall and Price, with what was left of the platoons,
cleared the first line of trenches and went to attack the second
line. They were not seen again. A and B Co.'s, who were assaulting,
lost all their officers and N.C.O.'s before covering half the ground.
The supporting companies, C, D, came under a terrible fire, and lost
all their officers and a good many N.C.O.'s, so eventually had to
retire. Out of the two platoons of B Co. who succeeded in doing their
job, only three men came back. The way the Battalion behaved under
the terrible fire directed against them drew words of admiration from
the artillery officers who were observing. We were the only regiment
in the Brigade who succeeded in doing the job we were put to do, but
eventually found ourselves in the same place as we started, with only
three officers left--Captain Filgate (Adjutant), Lieutenant Carrigan,
and Second Lieutenant Harcourt (machine-gun officers). About 12 noon
we were relieved in the first line by the 1st Brigade. Major-General
Haking, Commanding the ---- Division, expressed his appreciation of the
splendid conduct of the Battalion in the following terms: "The G.O.C.,
---- Infantry Brigade.--... I wish you also to convey to the C.O., 2nd
Battalion Royal Munster Fusiliers, my appreciation of the fine example
set to the Division by the successful assault of part of the leading
line--a feat of arms which the Battalion must always be proud of, as
this Battalion was the only one in the Brigade whose men succeeded in
storming the enemy's breastworks." For great gallantry and leading, I
think Captain Dick, Second Lieutenants Price and Horsfall, also the
N.C.O.'s and men that followed them, deserve the greatest distinction
going; also, if any one earned a V.C., Sergeant Gannon (machine-gun
sergeant) and Private Barry did. Sergeant Gannon went out several times
and brought wounded men in, also a wounded officer; Private Barry,
although wounded twice, brought in Captain Hawkes, who was severely
wounded in three places and could not move. Poor Barry lost his life,
as he was hit again while bringing in Captain Hawkes, and died from
wounds. Except in a few cases of exceptional gallantry, every man was a
hero, and I hope this time will meet with the recognition they deserve.
The total casualties are as follows (all ranks):--Killed, 46; wounded,
205; missing, 128; total, 379.


 EXTRACT FROM LETTER TO MRS. VICTOR RICKARD FROM SERGEANT LOUIS MOORE,
 DATED MIDNIGHT, 25TH MAY, 1915

DEAR MADAM,

I have just returned from the trenches, and Captain Filgate told me you
would like me to write you.

Since this terrible war commenced we have had many losses, as you know,
but I do not believe any one has been as severely missed as he has. I
believe Captain Filgate told you all about the funeral, and the spot
where he was buried. I visited the little graveyard yesterday and saw
everything was well. Later I intend to get a photo of it and will send
it on to you. The cross is marked in paint and inscribed--

                               R. I. P.

                         VICTOR G. H. RICKARD,

                Commanding 2nd Royal Munster Fusiliers,
                     Killed in action, 09/05/1915.

In case anything should happen to me, I have marked the exact place on
my map. Did Captain Filgate tell you how nice he looked after death? If
not let me tell you. Through all the war I have seen no one who looked
so much at peace. As in life, he looked bonny. I know, and am certain,
that he met his death in friendship with the whole world. That he was
happy at the moment I also know, for when he saw the way our brave men
jumped from the breastworks and started the charge, he was overjoyed.

I am enclosing two pictures. It was quite late when I took them.
However, I know you will like them; they were the last he had taken.
Perhaps you would like to know the names of the officers.

Front row (sitting) left to right:--Lieutenant Horsfall (missing,
believed killed), Lieutenant Keating (wounded), Captain Hewett
(killed), Lieutenant Harcourt, Lieutenant Page (killed), Lieutenant
Carrigan, Lieutenant Dennys (killed). Seated--Captain Grantham
(killed), Captain Dick (missing, believed wounded), Major Gorham
(wounded), Captain Filgate, Captain Fitzpatrick (wounded), Captain
Hawkes (wounded). Standing (left to right)--Lieutenant King (killed),
Lieutenant Parker (killed), Lieutenant Conran, Lieutenant Wainwright
(wounded), Lieutenant Rabone, Lieutenant Moore (wounded), Captain
Daly (wounded), Lieutenant Stokes, Lieutenant Pottinger (killed),
Lieutenant Price (missing), Captain Jeffries, Lieutenant Steward
(believed killed).

NOTE.--Regretted that the death of the following officers has since
been ascertained:--Captain Dick, Lieutenant Stewart, Lieutenant
Horsfall.


 EXTRACT FROM LETTER FROM SERGEANT LOUIS MOORE, 2ND R.M.F.

On his way up to our position on that Saturday evening, and just before
reaching our trenches, we passed one of those little shrines. The Major
halted his Regiment, and the Father, still mounted, gave the whole
Regiment a general absolution. After that they sang the _Te Deum_. I
know you can see the whole picture. The semi-light, the Major on his
horse in front, and the whole Regiment uncovered. It was a sight never
to be forgotten. I remember once seeing such a picture of the Irish
Guards praying before they went into action.


                                          _Rue du Bois, 9th May, 1915._

 CONGRATULATIONS FROM THE GENERAL OFFICERS COMMMANDING 1ST CORPS AND
 1ST DIVISION, TO THE 3RD INFANTRY BRIGADE

                                        The G.O.C.,
                                           3rd Infantry Brigade.

I am directed by the G.O.C. 1st Army and the G.O.C. 1st Corps, to
express to the Officers, N.C.O.'s, and men of the 3rd Infantry Brigade
their deep appreciation of the efforts of all ranks to carry by assault
the enemy's defences in front of the Rue Du Bois on the 9th May.

On my own behalf I shall be glad if you will tell Commanding Officers
to inform their Battalions that nothing could have exceeded the
gallantry displayed by Officers and other ranks in the assault.

I deeply regret the casualties which occurred, but they were not in
vain. The men who fell afford the rest of us a fine example of how
such an assault should be delivered. From a military point of view
the attack was of the greatest value, because it drew away hostile
reinforcements urgently required to repel the successful French attacks
to the South. These reinforcements coming up towards our front formed
an excellent target for our heavy guns, who fired on them with great
effect.

                      (Sd) R. HAKING, Major-General,
                                       Comdg. 1st Division.

  1st Division H.Q.
       _11th May, 1915_.


 ORDER OF THANKS TO ALL RANKS SERVING UNDER HIM FROM THE
 BRIGADIER-GENERAL COMMANDING 3RD INFANTRY BRIGADE

                        BRIGADE ROUTINE ORDERS,
                     BY BRI.-GENERAL H. R. DAVIES,

                   Commanding 3rd Infantry Brigade,
                                                      _11th May, 1915_.

Brigadier-General Davies wishes to thank all Battalions of the Brigade
for the splendid manner in which they attacked on the 9th May. Though
the attack did not succeed, it has been recognised by all the higher
Commanders that the Brigade did all that could have been done. The loss
of so many gallant officers and men testifies to the courage of the
troops. It was a day of which all can be proud, and the Brigadier is
confident that the same fine spirit will be displayed in the future.

                        (Sd) C. BERKELEY, Captain,
                             Brigade Major, 3rd Infantry Brigade.


 SPECIAL APPRECIATION OF THE GALLANTRY OF THE 2ND BATTALION ROYAL
 MUNSTER FUSILIERS, FROM THEIR DIVISIONAL COMMANDER

                                      The G.O.C.,
                                            3rd Infantry Brigade.

I wish you also to convey to the O.C. 2nd Battalion Royal Munster
Fusiliers, my appreciation of the fine example set to the Division by
the successful assault of part of his leading line; a feat of arms
which the Battalion must always be proud of, as this Battalion was the
only one in the Brigade whose men succeeded in storming the enemy's
breastworks.

                             (Sd) R. HAKING, Major-General,
                                              Comdg. 1st Division.


       PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY RICHARD CLAY & SONS, LIMITED,

       BRUNSWICK ST., STAMFORD ST., S.E.1, AND BUNGAY, SUFFOLK.




                              FOOTNOTES:


[1] This refers to Major P. A. Charrier, who was in command of the
Battalion.




                          Transcriber’s Note


                     page 5: alloted ==> allotted





End of Project Gutenberg's The Story of the Munsters, by Mrs Victor Rickard