Christmas in the Trenches (7 page)

Macedonia is a land of climatic extremes with hot, blistering summers, at that time accompanied by the arrival of malaria-carrying mosquitoes, which at times caused more casualties than enemy action. In contrast the winters could be very harsh with heavy rain, blizzards and the bone-chilling Vardar wind, which blew for days on end on to the plains of northern Greece:

We were served out with woolly skin coats that made us look like a polar expedition. We had to scramble marches over the mountains where the snow lay feet thick. Rum was served out and extra blankets and anti-frostbite ointment for the feet and when you dressed in the morning boots and puttees were frozen stiff and waterbottles solid.
¹⁰
(
Pte Reg Bailey, 7th Royal Berkshires
)

For men of the British Salonika Force (BSF), that first Christmas in Macedonia would be spent either at the base area around Salonika or in the foothills north of the city constructing a 70-mile-long chain of defences to protect the vital port from seizure by the Bulgarians. This work lasted five months and proved particularly difficult over the winter for the troops living in tents in the hills and ravines due to a combination of the weather conditions, rocky nature of the ground on which the defences were constructed and the lack of tools and engineering supplies. For Christmas, each unit tried to mark the holiday as best it could:

Xmas Day, 1915, was a red letter day. It was not much of a ‘holiday’, for urgent works were carried out as usual for half the day. However, we got the afternoon and evening off. What made it a day to be remembered was that on that day we got the first mail we had had for five weeks – since leaving France – and also our first issue of fresh meat and bread: bully and biscuits having been our fare all the time. Half a rum issue also marked the day. Although Salonika was only seven miles away, great difficulty was experienced in getting up supplies, owing to the shocking roads and fearful weather.
¹¹
(
Capt Melville Rattray, 107th Field Company, RE
)

Down at the base camp matters were a little more comfortable:

We really had a very decent time for Christmas considering conditions; we are fortunate in having one or two very good cooks in our party – we built a special oven and had roast beef and chickens, with potatoes and bacon; puddings made on the spot and a really excellent cake – almonds, tangerines, biscuits, chestnuts to roast on a brazier, beer and lemonade according to taste etc etc. We had a game of football in the morning on quite a respectable bit of ground.
¹²
(
Pte Richard Stratton, 15 Sanitation Section, RAMC
)

At some of the newly established depots and hospitals, concerts were performed for the troops in large stores tents and marquees temporarily fitted out for the occasion:

At half past seven we went to a concert in a store tent with biscuit boxes as seats. It wasn’t a great success as there was no piano. Our star turn was a couple of Highlanders one of whom piped while the other danced a sword dance. There was a large opposition party outside which hadn’t been able to come in and it howled lustily while our songs were on. The funniest item was a huge fat labour sergeant who started about four keys too high who, after a piercing shriek, said ‘I can’t sing’ and rushed away. It was a lovely night outside with clear moonlight. All over the plain for miles were rows and rows of lit up tents and twinkling camp fires, and one could hear the cheers and shouting in the distance all around.
¹³
(
2/Lt Eric de Normann, ASC Main Supply Depot
)

Among the productions was a version of the pantomime
Dick Whittington
, performed by members of the 85th Field Ambulance. With its villains Count Maconochie and Sir Joseph Paxton, named after brands of tinned meat and vegetable stew and jam that were staple rations of British troops during the First World War, this show became such a hit that it toured to all units of the 28th Division. Following years would see the players of the 85th Field Ambulance perform the equally popular
Aladdin in Macedonia
(1916) and
Bluebeard
(1917), again penned by Frank Kenchington to reflect army life in the Balkans.

Such entertainments were very important in maintaining morale, for Macedonia was very much a foreign land with its barren countryside and often difficult climate. Even the city of Salonika was closer to an eastern rather than a European city with its minarets and cosmopolitan population of Turks, Bulgars, Greek and Spanish Jews. That the BSF found itself at the end of a long maritime supply route also caused problems as the Mediterranean quickly became a happy hunting ground for German and Austro-Hungarian U-boats operating from bases in the Adriatic. The sinking of shipping not only affected the levels of rations, equipment and ammunition available but also made the evacuation of sick and wounded to hospitals on Malta, in Egypt and Britain an increasing problem. In addition the flow of letters and parcels from home was also interrupted, something that was especially felt by the troops at Christmas time:

There is a rumour going about that the mail-boat has been torpedoed and all the Christmas parcels gone to Davy Jones. The millions of Christmas puddings and tobacco and stuff we were to have had from all over the world have dwindled down to a couple of square inches of pudding from the Daily News . . . we are now pushed up in the hills miles from anywhere and we all feel very, very fed up and far from home.
¹⁴
(
Pte Jack Webster, 10th Devons
)

Further afield, increasing commitments were being made by the British Empire in Mesopotamia. Not content with securing the oil fields in the south, forces under Gen Sir John Nixon, spurred on by the India Office which had overall responsibility for the campaign, began to advance along the River Tigris towards Baghdad. Easy initial victories against mostly locally raised Turkish forces led to huge overconfidence on the part of the senior commanders. Maj Gen Charles Townshend, leading the 6th (Poona) Division, supported by a flotilla of river gunboats and transports that became known as ‘Townshend’s Regatta’, accomplished an astonishing advance, relying more on bluff and the incompetence and disarray of enemy forces than sound strategy and tactics. At the Battle of Ctesiphon (22–25 November 1915) the lack of troops, artillery and an overextended line of supply finally caught up with Townshend. Unable to break the Turks he retreated to Kut-al-Amara where from 7 December his forces were besieged. During the first month of the siege the Turks, not having to worry about the activity of other British forces in the region, tried to gain an early victory:

Christmas Eve was the best scrap I ever wish to see. It was on a cold and frosty morning (really it was) that the Turks opened fire on our rotten, mud walled, so called Fort . . . and it was soon evident that their intention was to batter down the walls and all that therein was, and so be able to enfilade our front line and thus walk into Kut.

As our guns had strict orders not to engage artillery we lay low, and damned glad we were to do so in that inferno . . .

Quite early, about 7am the fire became very accurate and as we went out to try the telephone both the Maj and myself were knocked down bustle over hairpins by a shell, but were not touched, only warmed. This was followed by another which burst in the door of the Mess dugout, busting my six bottles of whisky which I had only bought the day before from the Oxfords for Christmas Day (Gott Straffe Turkey) . . .

About 11am the shell fire intensified and there was precious little left of the mud walls from the Sirmoor Bastion to the East Bastion and the 119th Infantry had been badly shaken mostly from being buried under tons of mud and ‘Bhussa’ mixed. The state of this regiment’s nerves was reported to the O.C. Fort, but apparently no steps were taken to bring up fresh troops . . .

As we reached the barricade each man found his own place beside the Oxfords and opened up a rapid fire at the sea of yellow jackets and long bayonets on the broken walls. Our bombers were hurling grenades into the brown as hard as they could light the fuses – 4 machine guns were spitting out a cross fire of death at a range of from 30 to 80 yards. The Howitzers and 104th Battery’s shells were crumpling outside – the din was appalling.

After using up my own, the wheelers and Capt. Dorling’s revolver ammunition, an Oxford’s brains were blown out alongside me, so I was able to get to work with his rifle.

In the 30 minutes we were there about 30 Oxfords and 103rd were killed, mostly shot through the head . . . The many wounded were quickly cleared out as our elbow room was very cramped.

At the end of half an hour the Turks were seen to waver, turn and run – while our men, Oxfords, 103rd and volunteers leaped forward on the battered walls, yelling and firing like demons . . .

This finished the show, not a shot could be heard anywhere in the deadly calm that ensued. The whole place was a mass of smoke, ammunition boxes, unexploded bombs, dead and wounded, broken rifles, bits of bodies and chunks of brain! . . .

By jove, there were many dry throats after this, and how I cursed the Turkish gunners for straffing my whisky, however the Maj had some!!

After this attack had failed all was very quiet except for a few stray shells falling about, but as the afternoon wore on, we saw large numbers of infantry coming up into the trenches so all preparations were made for another attack. Barricades were strengthened, barbed wire ‘spiders’ thrown over the wall . . .

At 5.20pm everyone was ready, with the men to man the barricade sitting in the trench just behind it.

The night fell dark, with a full moon just showing through cloud and haze, and it was very cold sitting there waiting for eventualities.

At about 7pm the enemy suddenly sprang from their trenches and rushed at the bastion yelling ‘Allah! Allah!’ their advance being headed by lines of bombers (we gave them Allah alright and sent many to Allahlujah!) Immediately everyone sprang to their posts and as soon as the Subadar of the 103rd blew his whistle to show that they were clear of wall B we opened fire at the dim shadows in the gaps of the wall to our front: we were greatly helped by ‘Very Lights’ which showed the enemy up well.

Men started to fall very fast, Br. Palmer was the first, Wheeler Gunner Manning next, both shot between the eyes . . . the din was terrific; ‘Bhussa’ bales and loose timber began to burn, a volley of bombs literally wiped out the 103rd in gallery A . . .

The Oxfords and our men were falling fast . . . and the smoke of the shells drifting slowly over us added to the general bonfire effect.

After about an hour’s hard firing . . . our numbers at the barricade were getting rather low . . . It was now that a bomb, or it may have been several, burst right among us and seemed to clean out all the defenders . . .

By the time I had got up and felt myself there was no one left, so the Major and I decided to make for the second line trenches, but finding the trench three yards in the rear of us full of able bodied men, he shouted out that there were enough to hold on, and back we jumped. The Major would not fall out to get his wound dressed and at the time I did not know he was hit in the shoulder, as his face was covered with blood. Davern with his maimed hand also would not fall out and now did yeoman work stuffing ammunition into our pockets which enabled us to keep up a heavy fire . . .

At 11.30pm we were relieved by the 48th Pioneers, and thankful we were to go back to the 2nd line, as all were pretty well cooked after four hours solid firing in the dark. While the Major went off to get orders I took the men that remained, to the trenches by our guns and we all started to oil our rifles and many odd ones we had brought away, and had not been there long when Gunner Skinner appeared with a ‘decktchie’ of tea and hunks of bread spread with salmon, where he got it from Gawd only knows, but it was some supper I reckon.

We sat there wishing each other a Happy Christmas under rather novel conditions, and just to cap up the Sergt Major and myself split my flask of whisky . . .

The Norfolk Regt relieved the Pioneers at 3am and there was a certain amount of firing, but the Turks had taken their punishment early and had no stuffing left in their attacks.

While waiting to get the wounded out I fell asleep where I sat, and no longer heard the snores and moans of our exhausted and wounded men. (
Capt Keith Freeland, Royal Garrison Artillery
)

While the Kut garrison were engaged in fierce fighting, other troops in Mesopotamia were having a more restful Christmas. Men of the 1/5th The Queens (Royal West Surreys) were on outpost duty along the River Euphrates:

Xmas day K. Post. Reveille at 6.30, breakfast at 7.30. Tea and milk, bread and butter, salmon. Our tent is in lying picquet and not allowed to leave post so unable to go to Church at all. Dull with cold wind and air full of dust. Received message from King wishing the troops in Mespa a Happy Xmas that the goal for which we are fighting for was in sight, also message from O.C. 5th Queens wishing all at K Post a Happy Xmas. Stuffing dates all day. Xmas dinner cold boiled chicken and beef, hot turnips only vegetable obtainable and Xmas pudding no currants etc were to be had dates were added in their place not so bad considering everything. Tea – tinned peaches, bread and butter and milked tea, turned in about 9.45. Came off picquet 5 o’clock. (
Pte Henry White
)

The next round of major operations would have to await the New Year when sufficient troops were gathered for the attempted relief of Townshend’s force at Kut.

While numerous units of the Indian Army prepared to embark for Mesopotamia, those battalions sent out from Britain the previous year were well settled in numerous garrisons across the subcontinent and British-controlled islands in the Indian Ocean. One such unit was the 2/4th Somerset Light Infantry, who were based at Port Blair in the Andaman Islands. By December they had sat out the malarial season, although numbers of men now began to pick up ringworm which, while not too serious, was annoying and uncomfortable. The battalion’s officers were also enjoying new cuisine, among which was parrot pie, the main ingredient for which were shot by the officers. As mailboats from India were none too regular the battalion’s main recreation was cricket, either within the battalion or against the local Gymkhana. Strangely enough, Christmas Eve found the Somersets on alert for a possible German raid to free Indian nationalist prisoners from the large penal colony on the islands, something the Indian military authorities had been expecting since August: