A Howitzer in Action, William Orpen © IWM (Art.IWM ART 2957) |
A wall of
sound. A deafening roar. A ceaseless rain of shells. These were soldiers' impressions as they described one of the greatest artillery actions the
world had ever seen, the British bombardment that preceded the July 1st 1916
attack at the Somme. “The din of hundreds of shells whizzing over our heads was
like several ghost-like express trains hurtling through the sky,” said Corporal
George Ashurt of the Lancashire Fusiliers.
The
shelling began on June 24th and could be heard over 240 miles away in London. For the next six days, more than 1500 heavy guns, often spaced at
intervals of less than 30 yards, fired over 1,500,000 artillery and gas shells
at German positions. British General Sir Henry Rawlinson is reported to have
said, “nothing could exist at the conclusion of the bombardment in the area
covered by it.”
Rawlinson
was quite wrong about the bombardment’s effectiveness at eliminating enemy
opposition. British soldiers attacked the German lines on July 1, 1916 , and 20,000 British men were killed, most dying in the first hours of the attack. While
bombardments did not kill every man in the trenches, they were a horrific
torture to endure. In a letter dated April of 1916, British soldier-poet T.P. Cameron Wilson wrote, “a real
bombardment, where the sky is one screaming sheet of metal, is hell
indescribable.” His poem “During the
Bombardment,” attempts to communicate the experience.
During the
Bombardment
What did we know of birds?
A Crump, H.S. Williamson |
Though the wet woods rang with their blessing,
And the trees were awake and aware with wings,
And the little secrets of mirth, that have no words,
Made even the brambles chuckle, like baby things
Who find their toes too funny for any expressing.
What did we know of flowers?
Though the fields were gay with their flaming
Poppies, like joy itself, burning the young green maize,
And spreading their crinkled petals after the showers —
Cornflower vieing with mustard; and all the three of them shaming
The tired old world with its careful browns and greys.
What did we know of summer,
The larks, and the dusty clover,
And the little furry things that were busy and starry-eyed?
Each of us wore his brave disguise, like a mummer,
Hoping that no one saw, when the shells came over,
The little boy who was funking — somewhere inside!
—Theodore Percival Cameron Wilson
—Theodore Percival Cameron Wilson
The roar
and reverberations of an artillery bombardment consume the soldiers who must
endure it. During the crash of exploding shells, men become oblivious to the
sights and sounds of the world around them, blind to the fields of poppies and
cornflowers, deaf to the sounds of birds and wind and woods.
How loud
is a bombardment that can be heard over 200 miles away? First World War bombardments
were estimated to reach noise levels of at least 140 decibels, louder than a jackhammer at 50 feet
(95 dB), louder than a power mower at 3 feet (107 dB), louder than sandblasting
or a rock concert (115 dBs), and well past the point of pain that begins at 125
dBs. Even with
hearing protection (which was not issued to men at the Front), 140 decibels
is the loudest recommended noise exposure, and short-term exposure at this
level is likely to result in permanent damage.
An experience of this kind alters reality: the poem asks, what did we know of
birds, of flowers, of summer? Only the rain of shells and the engulfing noise are
real: even a sense of time and of the season are lost in the barrage of
death.
Most
terrifying of all, the men lose themselves. While their outward appearance
remains that of men under fire, they know that this is only a
disguise. Like actors in a drama gone
horribly wrong, the soldiers feel themselves to be no more than small boys "funking" — overwhelmed by fear, paralyzed, unable to do what is demanded of them.
Recent
research reported in the New
York Times on Post Traumatic Stress Disorder
(known during World War I as “shell shock”) has revealed startling changes in
the brains of those who have survived blast sites. The researchers have
concluded, “modern warfare destroys the brain.”
It is
nearly impossible to imagine what men experienced and endured in the trenches
of the First World War. In April of
1916, T.P Cameron Wilson wrote,
“War is
about the most unclean thing on earth. There are certain big clean virtues
about it – comradeship and a whittling away of non-essentials, and sheer stark
triumphs of spirit over shrinking nerves, but it’s the calculated death, the
deliberate tearing of young bodies – if you’ve once seen a bright-eyed fellow
suddenly turned to a goggling idiot, with his own brains trickling down into
his eyes from under his cap – as I’ve done, you’re either a peace-maker or a
degenerate.”
T.P. Cameron Wilson |
Hope I'm not double-posting. Tried to preview a post and it seemed to have disappeared.
ReplyDeleteDue to personal issues I could not foresee, I have not been able to honor WWI as I'd wished. So glad you continue to keep vigil on this blog, especially on this anniversary of the Somme. LestWeForget
Thanks for reading and remembering. LestWeForget.
DeleteThank you. Tried to recall this poem.
ReplyDeleteHappy to have been able to help -- I know how maddening it can be to only remember a line and then not be able to locate the poem!
DeleteThinking very much of men lost in the 1918 Spring offensive - overwhelmed in poor defensive positions and absorbed into the soil of France. Their bravery was extraordinary but seldom witnessed or reported. Indeed many would have returned to the state of frightened small boys at the end and as is so often reported cried out for their mothers in their anguish - "Mother!" or "Mutter!" no difference.
ReplyDeleteA beautiful response, Ian -- thank you so much for so poignantly reminding us of the individuals in the midst of a vast military operation.
DeleteNice post, Connie. Somehow I've missed this one until today.
ReplyDeleteThanks for reading, Tom. Hope you're safe and well....
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