rs of this part of
France. At Havrincourt it first runs west to east and then sharply bends
to the north towards Moeuvres past Hermies. The left of the 42nd
divisional front rested on the bend, after running over a huge chalk and
limestone slag-heap which stands at the corner. Going southwards the
line roughly skirted the eastern edge of the wood which lies upon a
slope facing the east.

Before their retirement, the Germans had cut down all trees on this
forward slope, some said in order to make use of the timber, others for
tactical reasons, so as to leave us exposed to view. I should say both
reasons weighed heavily with them, but principally the latter, for it
was noticeable that the woods in their own lines had not been so
denuded. Havrincourt village lay behind the enemy's front line on a
ridge that dominated our own positions. Further beyond were Flesquieres,
Marcoing, Premy Chapel and Ribecourt, where the main line of resistance
of the Hindenburg system could be plainly seen, while further over to
the left on the highest ground was Bourlon Wood, which was to become so
famous in the history of the British army. Every day the battalion
observers watched parties of Germans, large and small, working on these
rear trenches apparently quite unconcerned about the fact that they
could be plainly seen. Periodically our air service issued aeroplane
photographs showing the extraordinary development of these trenches,
their elaborate construction, the concrete dug-outs, and solid rows of
heavy barbed wire, until it almost came to be recognised that an assault
upon them would only be attempted by the maddest of leaders, and the
prospect of having to take part in it took one's breath away.

The chief job of the battalion was to guard by day, and get command of
by night, the large extent of No Man's Land which varied from 400 to
about 1,200 yards across. The day work was easy, but at night it was
fraught with quite interesting possibilities. The Boche was not very
inimical here, and seemed anxious to lull us into a feeling of peace and
security so that, I suppose, he could get safely on with his digging,
for he had still a good deal to do. His outbursts of shelling,
therefore, although at times disagreeable, gave one the impression that
its chief purpose was to remind us of his constant presence. At times,
especially in the evening, it seemed to afford him amusement to dust our
lines indiscriminately with gas shells. Our gunne