AT St. Vast the battalion rested for nearly two weeks. Meanwhile there were momentous changes on the battle-front. The attack launched on August 8 had placed Amiens out of the range of the enemy guns; and even as the battalion came through the outskirts of the city on its way to the rest area, some few civilians were to be seen in its silent streets. The same attack had again opened up the railway communications between Amiens and Paris.
Other interesting things, too, had happened. When its brief spell after the recent advance was interrupted, and the battalion was hurried up to Harbonnieres to participate in another attack on the same front, the arrangements for that attack were suddenly cancelled. It was decided to make the advance from a front further north, and this advance began only a week later. Its series of operations, covering about 10 days, and which were known as the battle of Bapaume, turned the enemy's flank north of the Somme, and thus compelled him to evacuate all the area which he occupied south and west of the river. This area included the territory lying opposite the Lihons front, of which the 48th Battalion had held comparatively quiet possession during the first stages of the battle north. It is interesting to note that the heavy gas-shelling to which he subjected the battalion on the night they were relieved from those trenches, was the enemy's last display from that part of the front. Immediately afterwards he withdrew all his forces some nine or ten miles back to the east side of the river. Still more interesting is it that the ground opposite the same front, which was the objective of the attack primarily projected, was thus gained without a shot being fired for it.
Some master mind guided the tactics of those days, and during the battalion's first week at St. Vast another great attack was launched still further north. This was the battle of Arras, which reached the outer defences of the Hindenburg Line. Just as the previous advance caused an evacuation of territory south of the Somme, so did this advance necessitate a retreat of the enemy in the far north which soon became a rout. In the British sector on the western front contact had now been made with the northern part of the enemy's last great line of strongholds, the main Hindenburg Line. On its southern end the outer system of that line had as yet to be broken. One great battle was still to be fought to prepare the way for the attack on the main line which, as the future was to prove, should result in the enemy seeing the futility of further opposition.
The 48th Battalion concerned itself very little with these matters during its stay at St. Vast. Intelligence reports occasionally came to the unit and were posted on the notice-board for the information of the men. The digger, however, has a shrewd standard of the value of intelligence reports. The number of prisoners taken is the hard and fast rule by which he judges them and the only item that interests him. He had other interests with which to concern himself during those days. For the brigade had now its own pierrot troupe, which was touring the brigade area. Then there was some hope of a race-meeting at an early date, though divisional headquarters was said to look with an unfavourable eye on the sport because of the abuse of horse-flesh which it entailed. But a very successful brigade sports meeting was held, at which some of the soldiers acted as bookmakers and book-makers' clerks. They were able to appear in what is regarded as the characteristic attire of their colleagues in civil life by borrowing various garments from the French people of the neighbourhood.
On September 7 they left St. Vast, and were again carried on motor lorries past Amiens and through the recently evacuated area to Barleux, a place some distance south-west of Peronne. There they bivouaced for the night in the trenches. Two days later they marched to Catelet and on the following day to Beaumetz. Next night they spent a very miserable time in the rain amidst the ruins of Flechin.
Flechin was still some miles behind the front line, but the unit lay near a road along which passed much of the traffic of preparation for the coming battle. The weather again became fine, with bright sunny days and clear moonlight nights. In the daytime the road was very quiet. During the night, however, it presented a scene of activity common to the eve of every great attack, but ever unfailing in its interest. Giant howitzers drawn by traction engines, batteries with their six-horse teams, motor lorries and ammunition waggons, went along in a seemingly endless line. Here and there a first-line transport hurried to its battalion in the trenches with rations and water, or a section of ammunition-limbers with shells to their field batteries. Their Australian drivers, ever ready to take a risk, would whip their teams into a mad canter, double-banking on the column in an effort to get ahead, whilst the watching infantrymen would applaud and bet with one another on the chances of a block in the traffic or of a lorry getting ditched; and the outraged traffic-control would shout violent oaths of vengeance on the offenders, until he spluttered and choked with the dust that soared aloft obscuring the light of the moon.
No one can ever forget the strenuous fullness of that life, which the infantry-man often saw whilst making his way forward to play his own surpassing part in it. No one can ever forget the reckless vigour of it, its manly risks, its noisy strife and its weird language.
After spending five days at Flechin the battalion moved up to the front line on the night of the 16th, and relieved the troops occupying it. The immediate front was not held by a continuous trench but by outposts, which were manned by "A" Company and half of another company, whilst the remainder of the battalion took up a position in the support trenches. The relief was completed before midnight, and all went quietly for about an hour. Then a heavy storm broke over the area, thunder drowned the noise of what few guns were firing and a great downpour of rain followed.
Next day weather conditions were better, and arrangements were finalised for the battalion's part in the advance. So far as the brigade sector was concerned, it presented much the same features as that of the advance on August 8; except that the 48th Battalion was on this occasion to advance to the first objective, whilst the second objective was allotted to the 45th and the third to the 46th Battalion. Other units of the 4th Australian Division were to advance on the left of the brigade, with the 1st Australian Division again on their left. English troops were to advance on the right flank of the brigade sector. Zero hour was finally known to be at 5.20 on the following morning.
On the morning of the 18th, the men were withdrawn from the outposts about half-an-hour before zero hour and at 5 a.m. the companies were in position on the jumping-off tape with "B" on the left, "D" in the centre and "C" on the right, while "A" Company was to follow in close support. Falling rain made the morning quite dark and very gloomy. One tank was allotted for work in the brigade sector, but early in the advance it got too far to the right and was not seen again. A dummy tank, however, a canvas-covered frame-work making a fair representation of a tank viewed from a distance, was drawn to the tape-line by a reluctant mule. Unfortunately the mule soon made for a heavy belt of wire, where the "tank" immediately became inoperative after the fashion of tanks.
At 5.20 a.m. the barrage fell, and as it gradually advanced the infantry started forward keeping pace with it. The enemy's artillery retaliation was very light, although some casualties were sustained before the troops left the jumping-off trench. Little opposition was encountered from, those who were occupying his advance outposts. The latter were the first prisoners of the advance, but after their surrender the battalion's task became more difficult. Between it and its objective was a well dug trench which seemed to be full of troops. On the side of the trench which lay towards the right wing of the brigade sector, several large dug-outs were afterwards discovered. In these the enemy had evidently taken refuge, whilst the artillery played on that part of the field. But as soon as the barrage had gone forward, the garrison immediately showed themselves very active against the advancing troops. From the high ground on the right side of the trench, they began to direct machine-gun fire on the men advancing on the left wing of the brigade front.
The company of the 48th which was operating on the right got into the trench and began bombing its way along it. In this manner our troops drove a great part of its garrison into corners where they surrendered, or into its roomy dug-outs only to surrender later on. From these dug-outs, where one could see the remains of an interrupted breakfast strewn over the place, over 70 prisoners were taken, and altogether 170 yere [sic] captured in this trench. The number did not represent all the forces which a few minutes before had here opposed the battalion. The remainder had run to the hollow on the other side of the rising ground, and most of them took up a position along a sunken road there. Others sought refuge in a large dug-out which was evidently an enemy headquarters. Their plight was a sorry one on the sunken road, for they were right on our artillery's protective barrage line. More enemy dead were strewn over that small area than the writer of these pages had ever before seen gathered on the same extent of ground. Many of those who came under the heavy fire ran forward with hands upraised in token of surrender, and from this place and the adjoining dug-out 189 prisoners were taken, including 11 officers. Like other Australian battalions, it was many days since the 48th had gone into action with more than half its establishment of men. Yet in this engagement altogether some 480 prisoners were taken, and the objective was reached with very few casualties to the attacking troops.
The 45th Battalion now passed through the troops of the 48th and secured the second objective with another large batch of prisoners, then finally the 46th in turn advanced towards the final objective. But now things were not so happy with the troops attacking on the right flank of the brigade sector. They had been held up by a small village some distance ahead of their second objective. The 46th Battalion was therefore compelled to take up a position on a sunken road, to the west of the formidable system of trenches whose occupation was the brigade's final objective. At night the same battalion secured that objective, whilst capturing more prisoners than the number of troops employed in the operation. It subsequently transpired that this capture was made from a fresh unit, which had come to the trenches an hour previously, and the prisoners were thus out of action almost before they had fired a shot.
The troops on the right of the brigade sector had not secured their final objective, so a company of the 48th was sent forward to form a protecting flank to the 46th Battalion, whose right flank was now in the air. Henceforward the severest fighting was transferred to this flank. The small hours of the morning of the 19th were spent in trying to link up with the troops on the right, and prevent a flank attack of the enemy from that direction.
To the right and rear of the brigade's final objective was a formidable enemy strong-point, from which machine-guns commanded a wide field of fire in various directions. It was shortly after they had gone forward and whilst endeavouring to find some system in the maze of trenches, that a number of 48th men encountered this obstacle. It required concentrated and careful attack and help was summoned from the troops reconnoitring other parts of the position. Meanwhile one firebrand, a lad named Woods, hoisted himself on the parapet of a neighbouring trench. He was soon the aim of many bullets; but the fortune of war, as remarkable in its friendships as it is in its spites, dealt kindly with him. Lying on his stomach whilst his comrades below "fed him" with bombs, he created such havoc in the strong-point that when reinforcements arrived their task was an easy one. Thus was the 48th Battalion awarded its first Victoria Cross in what was to be its last engagement.
The fight continued till dawn, the same trench being occupied by the 48th on the left and by the enemy on the right. Right and left and right and left it swayed, our troops hurriedly building rough obstacles in the trenches with loose wire, old machine guns or any of the debris that strews a battlefield and that might serve to block or retard the enemy in his next sally. The struggle dragged on and on with increasing bitterness, until the fight in the darkness lost the dignity of battle and there was enacted something more crude and savage than mere warfare. But ever each fresh repulse saw the blocks in the trenches carried further to the right, and the enemy pressed further down the sloping ground, until dawn came and the position was for the time being secure.
On the night of the 20th two companies of the battalion took over part of the front line, and on the following day moved forward to positions on the right which established the defence of that flank on a more definite system. There they could see the fruits of their victory, for right ahead of them lay the St. Quentin Canal, the village of Bellenglise and the imposing structure of the main Hindenburg Line. The battle had been fought and won, which prepared the way for the great assault that was to be almost the end of the struggle. The protecting flank, however, had cost the battalion dearly. Far more casualties were sustained in the fighting for that bit of ground, and in the subsequent heavy shelling of it, than had been suffered in the unit's previous advance. Lieutenant Ward was killed there, and several men long associated with the battalion.
There too, poor Lunt was killed, the best known man in the battalion and the hero of many fights both in the line and out of it, for he gave as much trouble to his friends as he did to the enemy. With Punch Donovan and Cork Daly and some others, he formed a small party that one learned to look on as essential to the identity of the 48th. Throughout its career, from Pozieres to Bellenglise, they might be seen supplying their comic relief to the tragedy of every engagement. Colonels and adjutants might come and go, but it almost seemed that they must continue while the battalion lasted. Always conspicuous in an attack, but as soon as the climax of that excitement had passed they sought fresh interest in the odd jobs that ensued from it. If prisoners were to be taken to the rear, the duty of escort was regarded as theirs by right, and many were the antics with which they performed the task. They knew everything, for they were everywhere, and seemed to have no regular duty but to be the emergency men of the unit. They received decorations, and none were better deserved, but the same gipsy character which made them so useful to the battalion as regular and irregular scouts, made promotion impossible. Authority was prudently tolerant of the latitude they gave themselves, and they seemed to want no further favour.
Lunt's career with the 48th came to an end opposite Bellenglise, and his comrades buried him and those who had fallen with him. Fortunately they were not too many. When, however, at a future date hostilities ceased, and it was known that the unit had seen its last fight, the knowledge gave a retrospective pathos to the fate of those poor fellows who fell so near to final victory. Down by the small spur known as Dean Copse some of them were laid to rest, men who had fallen in the first stage of the advance. Further up on the face of the hill another plot received the men who died when the 48th made its last stand, and also their comrades of the other battalions who had fallen in the progress of that last advance of the brigade.