LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

shell exploded next to him.

      The diggers packed their gear and got ready to move on, assembling at Pozières where the stench of dead bodies permeated the air.

      

George and the Boys at Pozières

      They were marched about another two miles through destroyed terrain, heading for Mouquet Farm.

      ‘Hey George, do ya think it’s gunna get any easier on us from now on?’ questioned Albert.

      ‘You’ve got to be fucking joking, Albert; I reckon it’s only gotta get worse.’

      Just then Fritz got wind of the attackers and hailed them with shells. Many diggers lost their lives in the first barrage. The band of four survived yet again; maybe lady luck was playing her part.

      The surviving soldiers reached their line but were told not to get too comfortable.

      ‘Right men, we need to move forward approximately two hundred and fifty yards, and secure a new position from there. We will launch an attack on the farmhouse,’ Major John Jeffries ordered. ‘By the way, if you see General Gough in his Rolls Royce out there, I want you all to salute. Is that clear?’

      ‘What the fuck is he talking about, mate?’

      ‘Fucked if I know, but if I see Gough I’ll be sure to give him the salute,’ George whispered.

      ‘I’ll give you the signal to move over at 10.30pm. Is that clear? Pass it on up the line.’

      The whistle was blown at 10.30pm on the dot. The Australian soldiers went over the top and ran towards their objective, Mouquet Farm.

      The Germans were expecting them, so artillery fire and machine gun fire wreaked havoc among the diggers, and many died that night.

      The Australians finally took possession of the farm, but at what cost? Three thousand five hundred young soldiers lost their lives in the first attack.

      The four diggers were still together lying down among the rubble of what was once a beautiful farmhouse.

      

Mouquet Farm Before Battle

       Mouquet Farm After Battle

      ‘Albert, look what I’ve found.’

      ‘Holy shit, mate, what are you going to do with him?’

      ‘I have a good mind to shoot him in the balls but I think I’ll take pity on the poor Kraut bastard,’ Sam expressed with a touch of sarcasm.

      ‘Well, we better put him to work digging our defence trench before his mad mates return,’ said Albert.

      The young German soldier standing in front of them looked terrified, fearing these Australians would shoot him then and there. When Albert offered him a spade the look of relief on his face was obvious. The German prisoner began digging with great gusto, ensuring that his captors would keep him at their side. The last thing he wanted to do was go back to the German front line; he’d much rather be a prisoner of war and stay alive.

      Just when the boys thought they may get some shuteye, the German artillery started up again; it became a constant barrage for the remainder of the night. The casualty rate was climbing.

      With the arrival of dawn, George and his mates could see what carnage had taken place overnight. There were dead bodies everywhere. Some had lost limbs, others had lost their heads… it was like a slaughter yard.

      George dragged their German prisoner, assembled the other blokes and started to bury the slain as best they could. Covered, the rats couldn’t get to them.

      ‘I don’t know about you blokes, but I’m fucking starving. We haven’t had anything since yesterday morning,’ George said.

      ‘Yeah, I could go with a can of bully right now,’ agreed Dick.

      ‘Well, I think the bad news is we’re not gunna get anything anytime soon,’ George claimed.

      Just then, the German artillery started up again. They could now see the enemy’s position. Their shells were starting to find their mark. The diggers’ appetites suddenly disappeared.

      The Germans did not try to counter attack that day.

      Major Jeffries ordered some men to escort the wounded and any German prisoners they had captured to the rear where the dressing stations were located. The prisoners were marched off to Albert where a POW camp had been established.

      Orders came through for the 1^st Battalion to move off to the left eleven hundred yards.

      August 14

      The rain bucketed down all night making the trenches a muddy bog; the incessant rain continued on into the day. There was a good reason why the diggers called it Mucky Farm.

      ‘I am not happy, George. This fucking rain has drenched me down to my stinking underwear. I’m hungry, I’m thirsty and I’m in the mood to go and kill some Germans,’ Dick complained.

      ‘Well, mate, I can’t help you out with the rain or your thirst and hunger, but I may be able to help you out with the killing business,’ answered George.

      ‘I suppose there’s one thing going in our favour— the Boche haven’t started up again with their bloody big guns.’

      ‘No, it’s been a little quiet lately. I wonder what the bastards are up to.’

      Just then, their questions were answered, as shells started to fly past their heads. The Boche were at it again.

      George had been recently appointed Platoon Leader and now had sixteen diggers under his command, including his remaining three mates.

      George sent Dick Ruby and Sam Wilson to hold a large shell hole about fifty yards in front of the Australian line. A large shell exploded very close to where they had hunkered down. Albert was very concerned and persuaded George that he should creep over there to see whether his two cobbers were okay.

      ‘Just keep your head down, mate, and no heroics. Tell the boys I’ll relieve them in an hour or so,’ George instructed.

      Albert climbed over the parapet, and, keeping low, made his way to the improvised foxhole.

      Albert reached the hole only to find Dick dismembered with Sam under his good mate’s shattered body, shellshocked and covered in Dick’s blood and brain matter.

      ‘Sam, mate, come on… Dick’s dead, but let’s get you back to safety. There’s a nice meal and a bath waiting for you behind the lines.’

      ‘Fuck off! I’m not leaving Dick. He’ll be all right. We need to get him back.’

      ‘Cobber, Dick’s dead. Nothing you or I can do to change that.’

      ‘He was my best mate,’ said Sam, with tears flowing down his face.

      ‘I promise we’ll bring him back, and we can bury him properly. Just for now it’s too dangerous, but when the barrage has stopped you and I can come back and get him.’

      ‘You promise?’

      ‘I promise.’

      Albert pushed Dick off Sam and helped him back to the line. The traumatised digger was taken to a dressing station where they diagnosed him with shellshock. Sam was taken back to the field hospital in Albert. He did recover and was back with his battalion four weeks later.

      The Battle of Mouquet Farm - A Scenario

      During the battle, the three Australian

Скачать книгу