3rd May 2010

[Lachlan09]

Dear All

Next week, 3rd May 2010, will be the 93rd anniversary of the death of my great-uncle, David E. Robertson. The entry from the Commonwealth War Graves Commission book of remembrance reads:-

In Memory of
Lance Corporal DAVID ELDER ROBERTSON

S/9365, 8th Bn., Black Watch (Royal Highlanders)
who died age 29
on 03 May 1917

Son of David Robertson, of Campie Rd., Musselburgh.
Husband of Margaret Robertson, of 10, Bush Terrace, Musselburgh, Midlothian.

Remembered with honour
BAY 6, ARRAS MEMORIAL




For the last few years, I’ve researched his story as much as I can with limited available resources. The first resource was my own memory and family tradition. My dear-departed mum spoke of him in fond tones although he was already dead several years before she was born – she was a late arrival in the family ! David was her mum’s well-loved brother and his death lay heavy on her. She gave my mum the middle name of Davina in remembrance of him and told her about him. In turn, many years ago, my mum told me about what she knew of him and showed me the surviving items of his memory – his Black Watch red hackle, a pre-war photo of him, a wartime photo, a letter written by him, another letter written by a stretcher-bearer who met him and lastly, a thin official book, the “R” volume of names of 35,000 British and Dominion servicemen without graves who are remembered on the Arras Memorial.

My mum’s recollections, handed down in good verbal tradition from her mother to her to me (allowing for changes in detail due to lapses of memory) was told to me as follows:-

David was born in Musselburgh, son of a Perthshire father and Dundonian mother. He was by all accounts a nice honest man and judging by his pre-war portrait photo in his Sunday-best suit, quite handsome too, complete with a lovely head of thick “matinee-idol” wavy hair. He had a good supervising job at Brunton’s Wire Mill, in Musselburgh, Midlothian. When war started in August 1914, David was engaged to be married and his employer tried to persuade his best skilled employees from all instantly dropping tools and joining up, (presumably) in case they were needed for war-work. David held-off volunteering due partly to his employer’s entreaties and, like a lot of men at the start of the war with responsibilities, he wanted to put his affairs in order first, usually it was the young men without ties who flooded the recruitment offices first. However, according to what I’ve been told, at some point in the first half of 1915, he was presented with that crushing symbol of accusation which any woman in the realm at that time felt free to give to any man without a uniform - a coward’s white feather. Most shocking, rather than being handed one in the street by some strange woman, he was given his by his fiancée ! According to information given me by a member of a Great War website, by June 1915, he joined up, just 10 days after his birthday on 23 May. Here comes an interesting point. I doubt if many of us would stay engaged to a loved one who branded you a coward, yet at time of death in 1917, he was married. Was his wife the same woman or did he find and marry someone else ? An unsolved mystery !

A mid-1915 outdoor group photo of David and some colleagues taken at Bordon Camp, near Aldershot, shows him bareheaded, his beautiful hair gone and now closely cropped, wearing his khaki tunic, Black Watch kilt and khaki hose-tops and short puttees. Others are wearing dark blue glengarries with the Black Watch badge.

If the joining-up information is correct, then he probably would have still been in training in the UK at the time of the Battle of Loos in September 1915, in which the 8th BW took part as part of 9th Scottish Division. As the 8th BW went to France in May 1915, David must have been part of a later reinforcement draft, after Loos, to replace losses. The enrollment information seems to suggest that when he died, he was 26, not 29 as per the memorial. Another mystery.

By December 1915, he was in the trenches. That month, he wrote a rather crowded letter in pencil, which flits from topic to topic, on one piece of YMCA lined paper. We still have that letter. He started with a comment “There’s a queer smell in the trenches” which at first seems odd and almost humorous (as in “There’s a queer smell in the trenches, the privates are washing their socks”), but we know the truth it hides. No doubt the smell was a heady mix of unwashed men, latrine contents, cigarette and pipe smoke, ration- cooking, all woven together by the ever-present sickly-sweet smell of rotting humans and animals and sulphurous tang of cordite. He mentioned he had been stationed in a listening-sap, a cul-de-sac trench dug into No-Man’s Land, where the “lucky” little group of soldiers had to stay quiet through the night, listening for nocturnal or underground enemy activity, to either report back or sound the alarm. He also asked for a pair of old gardening trousers to be sent to him, so he could cut them off at the knees and wear them under his kilt in the bitterly cold winter weather in the trenches. He also asked about various friends back in Musselburgh and recalled seeing one particular friend in Newhailes Road when he was on leave(a road I also know today).


On Newhailes Road today, beside the Musselburgh town-sign and overlooking Fisherrow Harbour and down the Firth of Forth.

The next item was a 1917 letter from a stretcher-bearer to David’s parents, telling how he died. The letter, in comforting tones, stated he was not in pain and drifted way after an hour.

The last item is his personal Red Hackle from his khaki Tam O’ Shanter, which would have been in his personal equipment, possibly his small pack. Compared to the voluminous feather-duster “The Watch” has worn in recent years, David’s WW1 hackle is small, skimpy and turned crimson with age.

So that’s my family background info.

From other sources, I have pieced together the manner and whereabouts of his death.

He was a L/Cpl in the 8th Btn Black Watch, a Kitchener volunteer battalion, part of the 9th Scottish Division. Though I do not have his personal service record, I think he would have been present and taken part in the 9th Division’s actions in 1916, including the division’s capture of the German stronghold of Longueval on 8th July 1916, during the Battle of the Somme.


Men of the 8th Black Watch waiting for their rum ration after their capture of Longueval, Somme, July 1916.

By early 1917, the Allies were preparing a new joint-offensive. The French, under General Robert Nivelle, would attack beyond the Southern part of the Somme area, along the Chemin Des Dames Ridge, while British and Dominion forces would attack above the Northern flank, from the direction of Arras, onto the Douai Plain. The relatively modest British tasks (ie not intended as an out-and-out war-winner) were to draw German attention away from the French and to capture the dominating Douai Plain. Both Allies would also pinch out the Somme salient. Nivelle had rather grander plans for his French army, expecting a breakthrough and victory in 48 hours. The Russians, who had failed to turn up for a Franco-Russian/West-East joint offensive in February, were also unable to take part in this April offensive. Unknown to both Allies though, the Germans had discreetly created and retreated to a formidable set of multiple, fortified positions called the Hindenburg Line and secretly vacated the old salient Somme positions. The Hindenburg line was defense in depth, comprising many trench systems, both ready and as work-in-progress, which would later frustrate allied plans.


Movement orders for 26th Brigade, 9th Scottish Division to be executed on the night of 8/9th April 1917, in preparation for the start of the Arras offensive of 9th April.

As part of the British offensive, Vimy Ridge would have to be taken, whilst capture of neighbouring positions a little further South would allow some protection to the Vimy attacks. In the aftermath of The Somme offensive, modified infantry tactics from the Spring 1917 offensive had been developed, based on 4-man teams with a range of weapons. The artillery was also employing more advanced methods, including creeping barrages, calculated target-predictions and graze-fuses to break barbed-wire. The 9th Scottish, 15th Scottish, 51st Highland and half-Scottish 34th Division were for the first time in the war, fighting in the same battle and more or less next to each other. The offensives were launched on a cold, snowy/sleety 9th April and in the British sector, the attack went really well and follow-up attacks produced further advances. By mid-April, British, Canadians and Aus/NZ had moved forward several miles, the Canadians having captured Vimy Ridge and all capturing various trench systems. However, further South, the French ran almost immediately into murderous German fire on the Chemin Des Dames and were thrown back again and again with heavy loss. By mid-April, the French had to cease their attacks due to losses and a resulting mutiny by French units in the sector. The British meanwhile had by now run into stiffer resistance themselves and attacks slowed down. With French allies out of the fight, Gen Haig decided to tone down his next Arras attacks and concentrate on more localized objectives. He was also considering phasing out his offensive and concentrating once more on the important Ypres Salient in Belgium instead.

Several semi-successful and unsuccessful attacks were launched near the River Scarpe and the railway line and embankment, including the temporary capture of the village of Roeux. German trenches captured in the area were makeshift/partly constructed and British troops hurriedly attempted to make them into useable trenches for their next attacks and defence. On different occasions near the end of April, the 34th and 51st Divisions attacked in the Roeux area which was dominated by Greenland Hill and the deadly machine-gun strongpoint called the Chemical Works. Then came the planned attack called the 3rd Battle of the Scarpe, to be launched on 3rd May 1917.

The 51st were replaced by the 9th Scottish at the beginning of May and the 9th were in their assault positions opposite Roeux by 2nd May. They were to capture the “Weed/Weak” trenches on Greenland Hill. The plan called for the division to attack at 0445hrs on Thursday 3rd May, just before dawn, to provide at least a small measure of approaching daylight to aid attacking troops. However, just a few hours before the coming attack, the planners decided to move the attack forward one hour, to 0345hrs – still during the moonless pitch-black night. It was intended to catch the Germans off-guard, who would likely expect a dawn attack in the coming days. This change surprised the attacking British units who had not time to lay marker tapes through the wire or plan coordination of their night attack. As it happened, the by 3rd May, the Germans had zeroed their guns and m/g’s in the Chemical works and elsewhere onto the current British positions and it didn’t really matter what time the attack went in, this time the reaction would be deadly.

At 0345hrs, the troops of the 9th Scottish rose out of their trenches to advance toward the German positions. But as soon as the Germans got warning by British gun bombardment, they opened fire too and British losses started to mount. To make matters worse, in the darkness, Scots battalions coming from obliquely-facing trench positions could not re-align with neighbouring units in the darkness and some collided while others veered off, leaving gaps. Replacement junior officers were unable to rectify the errors. Meanwhile, the German m/g’s in the Chemical Works and other positions mowed them down. No major gains were made into German positions in what became a disaster. A sad finale to what had started as a successful offensive. That was the way of much of the war on the Western Front, seemingly good new initiatives using new weapons or tactics, succeeding well at first, but then running out of steam and descending into attritional warfare until cancelled. Only in summer 1918 did the Allies, under the overall coordinated leadership of Marechal Foch, put their long collective learning-curve to good use and at last all the pieces they learned about infantry, artillery, tank and air-support warfare fitted truly together, resulting in Haig’s masterful Allied offensive starting on 8th August 1918, Germany’s “Black Day”. The war was out in the open once more.

To quote from the 9th Scottish Division’s WW1 history (my notes are in Bold):-

“The 26th Brigade, with the (5th) Camerons and (8th) Black Watch in front, the (10th) Argylls in support, and the (7th) Seaforths in reserve, was on the right; and on the left was the 27th (Brigade), with the (9th Scottish) Rifles and (6th) KOSB in front, and the 11th and 12th Royal Scots in support and reserve. In place of the South Africans (South African Brigade, joined 9th Scottish Div on 22 April 1916), the Division was supported by the 52nd Brigade (17th Northern Division) which was, which was located at the Blue Line. The attack was to be under the customary creeping barrage, which was to open 200 yards east of our front line and, after a pause of four minutes, was to move forward at the rate of 100 yards every 2 minutes, while a machine gun barrage was to keep 400 yards in advance of it. The time of zero, 03:45am, was made known to the Division only a few hours before the battle.

The position held by the enemy lay on the western slopes of Greenland Hill and consisted of shell-holes and stretches of trenches hastily excavated after his defeat on the 9th April [1917]. His trenches therefore were not of the same elaborate and formidable nature as those he occupied on that date, but owing to their comparative indefiniteness they offered neither a clear target for the artillery nor an easily recognisable landmark for the infantry.

The night of the 2nd May was clear, with no hint of dawn when the hour of zero approached , though by the mellow sheen of the stars and the setting moon one could see about 50 yards along a path. At 03:45am, the air reverberated with the crash of thousands of guns, their flashes forming almost a solid glow. On striking the dry earth the shells threw up a thick curtain of smoke and dust, which, owing to a north-east wind, drifted back across our lines. At the same time, the Germans sent up showers of coloured lights and rockets in a wild appeal to their artillery for assistance.

As a result of the darkness, intensified by dust clouds, the attacking troops lost direction almost at the beginning, The Germans replied immediately with heavy machine gun fire from trenches and organised shell-holes, which were closer to our front line than we expected and had escaped our barrage. The Camerons, misled by hostile lights sent up from short entrenched lines echeloned in depth, swung so much to the right that they that they crossed the front of the 2nd Essex Regiment, 4th Division, who fired on them. The Black Watch also lost cohesion and only a few groups managed to reach the enemy’s front trench. The Argylls in support, who became heavily involved in the fighting, suffered serious casualties when they moved forward, and were subjected to persistent bombing attacks from the vicinity of the Gavrelle-Plouvain road. Most of them were compelled to take cover in shell holes, from which they gradually worked their way back to our line. One company of this battalion, maintaining its direction throughout, went straight to the first objective, but being unsupported and cut off only a few survivors managed to return. This effort was really a brilliant performance. In a second attempt the Black Watch succeeded in expelling the enemy from Charlie and Cuthbert Trenches, but they were unable to remain there owing to accurate machine-gun fire from the railway embankment and the Chemical Works.”


1917 Trench map of Roeux, Plouvain and Greenland Hill. Cuthbert Trench can be seen lined in blue at the left of the map. Weed-Weak trenches are toward the right of the map on Greenland Hill and the annotated Chemical Works can be seen to the rear of the blue line and below the railway line.

On 3rd May 1917, somewhere in a makeshift trench in a tortured field near Roeux, David lay mortally wounded, a casualty of the attack. Perhaps the stretcher bearer who later wrote to David’s parents tended him throughout and he died without pain after a last drag on a Black Cat cigarette; perhaps David was in bad shape, ripped open by shell fragments, who can say. Whatever his last moments, he was likely stacked with a pile of khaki comrades in a mass grave, possibly a shovelful of quicklime as a shroud, as he has no tombstone and is instead remembered on a wall panel of Bay 6 of the Arras War Memorial, Pas-de-Calais, France.

I can pretty-well pinpoint on Google Earth where the divisional trenches were that morning and which were David’s and his division’s killing-fields. It is now peaceful farming land again, the infamous Chemical Works now built-over as a “SHOPI” supermarket and car-park near the railway halt and Greenland Hill again sloping farmland beside a four-lane highway intersection.


Roeux in April 1917 before the attacks.


Roeux in May 1917.


Modern photo looking toward Roeux from the lower West slopes of Greenland Hill, across which (right to left) British troops assaulted Greenland Hill. Good machine-gun observation from the Chemical Works in Roeux (behind annotated Roeux Station) is clearly evident.



Google image of Roeux/Plouvain which I've overlaid with key locations as of 3rd May 1917.




The Chemical Works and Railway Station in Roeux today:- the Chemical Works ruins are now built over by the “SHOPI” supermarket on the left (we can see the rear/side of the supermarket) and station on right. So much carnage was wrought from this location in April-May 1917. Perhaps the cobblestone paving was there in 1917 ?

In the end, Mother Nature forgives and envelopes tragic memories in her healing shroud.

[Jock Scot]

Yes indeed nature does in time cover over humanity's excesses and time does dull human emotions as it should and I think must. However, we should never forget the sacrifices of our forebears for, "they gave their days for our tomorrows".

Thank you so much for your very interesting post.

[ThistleDown]

Lachlan, thank you so very much for that superb post. The fact that you wished to share your interest and writing with us deserves our sincere gratitude.

[Downunder Kilt]

Lachlan, you are rightly proud of your great uncle David, I too salute him and his comrades

[BoldHighlander]

Lachlan, thank you so very much for that superb post. The fact that you wished to share your interest and writing with us deserves our sincere gratitude.

Indeed...thank you Lachlan.

[gordontaos]

Thank You.
We are humbled by the sacrifices of our forebears.

[Lachlan09]

Thank you all for your kind comments.

I see David's story as "Everyman", being repeated so many times in many nations.

I will take a moment to ponder those who gave their tomorrow for our today.

[tulloch]

That was a very interesting and evocative read. Thank you. What a way to meet one's end. One day we will understand how to live without war. Meantime thanks to all the brave ones who do the heavy lifting for us. Thank you.

[thescot]

Thanks for a fine and thorough report.

My own grandfather was a doughboy for the U.S. Army in WWI. He told me harrowing stories of his experiences, and too many do not remember any of it.

[Ozark Ridge Rider]

Thanks for your story of your great uncle's sacrifice. We so often forget that though history books recount the big picture, that picture is made up of the lives of individuals, people like him.