The Invincible Twenty-Seventh and Other True Stories

By David Colwell and Max Colwell

Included in this book are a collection of factual and often humorous stories.
The Invincible Twenty Seventh recounts the experiences of a 16-year-old Australian infantryman
fighting on the Western Front during World War 1. The tough day to day life in the trenches is broken
only by short respites at the rear or advancing into battle when he experiences unimaginable
horrors.
The Anzac soldier comes alive as the author uses his original diary and maps to describe his
movements and experiences during critical battles on the now serene farmland of northern France.
Other stories include unexplained paranormal experiences, a grand sailing adventure and some
humorous travel accounts.
Travel back in time to a near derelict society of the 1930s Great Depression. 'Great Aunt Agnes' and
'Half Days and Patched Pants' enable the reader to live and breathe the childhood experiences of
the author and his relationships with his often eccentric relatives.
The number and variety of subjects covered in these stories will, I'm sure, only enhance the
enjoyment of the reader.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Aug 10, 2016
• ISBN: 9781483576503

Book preview

War.

Pte Leonard Holthouse 1889-1980.

27th Battalion  2 nd Division A.I.F

THE INVINCIBLE TWENTY-SEVENTH

by

David Colwell

It was the first time in the history of the Great War that Australians had entered the European theatre. In 1916 the British Northumberland Fusiliers had completed their time in the forward trenches near Armentieres, northern France and were preparing to be relieved. Through the maze of support trenches to the rear a number of Australian battalions slogged through the mire, navigating their way in the darkness. Among those battalions was the 27th from South Australia. The takeover went smoothly and by midnight on the 7th April 1916 the 27th battalion took its position on the front line.

  The enemy wasted no time contacting the diggers.  A notice was received by way of a rifle grenade fired into the lines:

  ‘Welcome, you brave Australian heroes; soon your blood will stain the fields of France.  You will find the German dog can bite.  Witness Verdun.’ 

One soldier who moved in that night was a boy of 16 years, Leonard Holthouse, my maternal grandfather. Born and raised at Wilmington South Australia, Len, like many, had lied about his age and enlisted, wishing to embark on a great adventure. Being a fine horseman he initially joined the Light Horse but requested and was granted a transfer to the infantry to be with his mates. Following his enlistment on 22nd July 1915, Pte Holthouse embarked on the 12th January 1916 aboard HMAT Medic for training in Egypt. He finally joined A company, 4th platoon, 27th Battalion, of the 2nd Division on their first foray into the trenches of France. Len was one of many new recruits brought in to replenish the depleted battalions from the carnage of Gallipoli.

Almost two years previously in August 1914 five German armies comprising 1.5 million men, the largest military force ever created, commenced their advance into Belgium and then France. The British and French armies moved to confront them. After weeks of rapid attacks and counter-attacks the battles became deadlocked, bringing to the landscape the new phenomenon of trench warfare. In the preceding years huge numbers of infantry would be slaughtered hurling themselves at a barrage of modern devastating fire power only to gain or lose minute squares of ground.

The Australians exuded a demeanour foreign to other troops. While many Imperial commanders regarded them as undisciplined larrikins, the diggers quickly forged an unequalled reputation as fierce uncompromising warriors saturated with an indomitable spirit and inspirational reckless bravery, totally dependable in the heat of battle.

  Perhaps the character of the Australian was best conveyed by Evan Wisdom, Brigadier-General, when writing particularly about the 27th battalion:

‘As I know from personal contact and knowledge what the 27th was, and what        it did, that is from the time I took command of the brigade and whatever may have happened before that time, I can confidently say that from then on the 27th never failed me. It has a record second to none in the AIF and, of course, that is, in my humble opinion, better than that of any other battalion in any other force engaged in the Great Adventure. While I write, my mind rushes from one great incident to another. I think of Malt Trench, that wonderful bomb fight of the 27th; Lagnicourt, where you held up the counter-attack; Bullecourt, where you held the exposed flank for 14 days; Pozieres, Menin Road, Broodseinde Ridge, Passchendaele, Villers-Bretonneux, the Great Advance, that determined rush at Biaches, Mont St Quentin Ridge, Beaurevoir and many minor stunts, and I cannot think of one of these occasions where the ‘good old 27th’ did not cover itself with glory.’

Throughout these now historic exploits, Len recorded his experiences. The miles of marches, the wounds, boredom, filth and disease, total exhaustion, brutal battles and surrounding death.

****

  In 1988, armed with the original yellow-stained pages of his diary and maps, I went to Northern France to retrace his steps on the Western Front.

During the first few months of Len’s participation there were no major offensives in his area, but the drudgery of training drills at the rear were punctuated by short intervals in the front trench where he witnessed some exciting action which he wrote about in his diary:

11.5.16  ‘On day duty, dull day. Fritz brought down one of our planes at 4p.m., lobbing on our support trenches like a bird. Pilot was killed outright, observer was wounded. Plane was burned through being shelled but the engine was saved. Out in No Man’s Land till midnight putting out wire entanglements.’

13.5.16  ‘Bombarding nearly all the time. We suffered a few casualties.’

And, more poignantly:

1.6.16 ‘Carried away and buried my best pal, Pte Mcphee, in the afternoon, who was shot in the groin the night before and bled to death in a few minutes. A heavy bombardment opened up at 4 pm until 5.30 pm.’

2.6.16  ‘On fatigue in front line making toast rack entanglements. On duty in front line about 6 pm. More bombarding. Gas attack about midnight on our left. Oh, that beastly gas.’

3.6.16  ‘Still in the front line. Trench mortar bombardment opened at 4 pm. Take cover!’

4.6.16 ‘Heavy bombardment in the evening. Out in No Man’s Land cutting the long grass till midnight.’

6.6.16 ‘Wet day. Trenches under water. Not much to do. Very heavy bombardment at midnight when our raiding party successfully raided the German trenches at the salient. All raiders got back safely, bringing with them prisoners and material.’

19.6.16  ‘Rode out to the trenches in motor lorries then marched mile and a half to trenches at Messines where we had to dig a bluff trench. Some job. Machine guns were a nuisance.’

****

  In late June 1916 news of the British Somme offensive filtered through the camp. The rumour and contradictory reports of a planned push from the Australians’ present position were quashed with the arrival of relief troops. Then orders arrived on 8th July 1916 to march south toward the Somme.

  The Somme offensive had already begun with a massive six day barrage to disable the enemy positions and destroy the wire entanglements protecting them. With such preliminary fire-power the infantry were expected to simply walk over and occupy the line from the few shell-shocked soldiers that remained alive. With orders for reserve and assault troops to advance simultaneously, the British and French rose, presenting the enemy with a deep zone of slowly advancing targets. The defenders leapt out of their deep protective dugouts and manned the machine guns, slicing through the thousands of soldiers caught in the wire or struggling across No Man’s Land. In a series of battles against a formidable defence 100,000 British and French fell with no major objective taken. The vital strategic village of Pozieres still lay with the enemy.

  After four failed attacks General Haig, British High Command, was desperate for success and his decision to engage the Australians on the Somme was recorded by a British historian as ‘a powerful accession of strength to Haig’s army and a potent new weapon.’

The spent British were initially relieved by the 1st Australian Division whose objective was the village of Pozieres, followed by the elevated heights that lay behind it. Along this heavily fortified ridge lay the ultimate prize, the remains of the windmill, from which the Germans enjoyed a strategic panorama.

The failed tactic of a lengthy bombardment, which ultimately signalled a warning, was now replaced by a short initial barrage. The 1st Division rushed the first line, taking it almost immediately, and with advances every half an hour, the Germans were forced to retire and defend the crucial ridge and windmill site. 

With the Australians now occupying the village a systematic artillery barrage rained down on them with such intensity that the distant thunder was heard in England. They dug in to fight off repeated counter-attacks, clinging on to the only ground gained by Haig’s seven mile front offensive. Pozieres village was obliterated into rubble, ash and decaying bodies. The number of Australian dead on the main road immortalized it as ‘Dead Man’s Road’.

The holocaust that became known as ‘Hell of Pozieres’ was described by a Lt J. Raws when writing home:

‘Nothing but a charred mass of debris with bricks, stones, girders and bodies pounded to nothing, and forests! There are not even tree trunks left, not a leaf or a twig. The sad part is that one can see no end of this. If we live tonight, we have to go through tomorrow night and next week and next month. Poor wounded devils you meet on stretchers are laughing with glee. One cannot blame them, they are getting out of this. We are lousy, stinking, ragged, unshaven, sleepless. I have one puttee, a dead man’s bayonet, my tunic is rotten with other men’s blood and partly spattered with a comrade’s brains.’

At the insistence of British High Command, the advance was to continue with the 2nd Australian Division (incorporating the 27th Battalion) marching to the area to prepare to relieve the exhausted 1st Division.

****

  My own introduction to the area was at Albert, a town south west of Pozieres. On Anzac Day 1988 we arrived by train at Albert Station and walked across a small square where we booked a room in a rather plain hotel ‘Le Continental’. Leaving our luggage we wandered up the main street, passing a large church on the left. Reaching the town’s northern end we came across a tremendous crater now covered with grass. A local, noticing our interest, explained in broken English that it was from the Great War. I fingered through Len’s diary searching for any relevant note, and found this entry.

26.7.16 ‘Bayonet practice in the morning, practising company attacks in the afternoon till about 4.30 p.m. when a dispatch rider arrived with orders to prepare to move off within an hour. Went back and packed up and left Warloy-Baillon 6pm. Marched through Albert about 9 pm. We bivouacked on a flat piece of ground out in the open next to a huge crater which our engineers dynamited under Fritz trenches. Became very cold.’

  As the fresh battalions moved forward the survivors from the battered 1st Division came out. They were described as ‘drawn and haggard, so dazed they appeared to be walking in a dream and their eyes looked glassy and starey’.

With the 2nd Division (including Len) occupying the front line a fresh assault was planned for the 4th August. Len’s diary describes it:

31.7.16 ‘On fatigue in the morning 7.30 am to 1 pm filling in shell holes along the road for the artillery to rush along. Went up to the front line about 7 pm to dig an advance trench out in No Man’s Land. Got back to our lines about 3 am next morning and had a tote of rum.’

2.8.16 ‘On fatigue in front lines widening a sap 8 am till 4 pm.’

After a night in Albert we drove the few miles north east to Pozieres village, stopping at the eastern edge. This was the position of what would be the last frantic advance across No Man’s Land to seize the windmill ridge. To my astonishment we discovered a line of rocky soil running north-south with the main road into the village about 50 metres away. I referred to the original map of this battle which showed that the position of the 27th’s advance was indeed adjacent to the road. We were standing on the filled-in trench of OG1 (first objective).

Ahead of us across a few hundred metres of bare ploughed dirt lay a small rise, the remains of the windmill. As I stood on the line of stony dirt facing ‘No Man’s Land’ I read aloud Len’s own words.

4.8.16 ‘Moved up to the front line at 5 pm to charge. Hopped the parapet 9.15 pm under an intense bombardment and captured the first two lines OG1 and OG2,(see map) capturing hundreds of prisoners which I assisted in bringing to the rear. Got back to the trenches 2.30 am on the 5.8.16 but could not get up the sap on account of the bombardment being too severe. Wounded in the right shoulder by shrapnel about midday. (A blighty incidentally). That finished me. Reported to dressing station and was taken by ambulance to Blighty Junction where we stayed for the night.’

7.8.16 ‘Operated on and a lump of metal taken out of the chest.’

8.8.16 ‘Marked down to go to England.’

  We then walked across ‘No Man’s Land’ to the windmill (the advance line of the 27th) where a small poignant memorial had been erected. A plaque there reads: ‘The ruin of Pozieres windmill which lies here was the centre of the struggle in this part of the Somme battlefield in July and August 1916. It was captured on August 4th by Australian troops who fell more thickly on this ridge than on any other battlefield of the war.’

The 4th Division finally relieved the exhausted 2nd Division under intense enemy shelling which inflicted even more casualties during the takeover.

During the seven week battle on the Somme, Australian casualties amounted to 23,300, more than fell in eight months at Gallipoli. They had shown their mettle not only to the dubious British Command but to the Germans, who now recorded the 27th as ‘one of the invincible battalions’.

  Len was taken to England and remained in York to recover. However, when the wound turned septic it was decided to amputate his arm and part of his shoulder. He pleaded with the doctors to delay the operation and eventually, after a lengthy treatment and recuperation, he regained his health. While Len remained in England undertaking clerical duties the Allied troops fought on.

****

During