Pillars of Fire: The Battle of Messines Ridge June 1917

By Ian Passingham

"Gentleman, we may not make history tomorrow, but we shall certainly change the geography," so said General Plumer the day before 600 tons of explosives were detonated under the German position on Messines Ridge. The explosion was heard by Lloyd George in Downing Street and as far away as Dublin. Until 1918, Messines was the only clear cut Allied victory on the Western Front, coming at a time when Britain and her allies needed it most: boosting Allied morale and shattering that of the Germans. Precisely orchestrated, Messines was the first true all-arms modern battle which brought together artillery, engineers, infantry, tanks, aircraft and administrative units from a commonwealth of nations to defeat the common enemy. So why is its name not as familiar as the Somme, Passchendaele or Verdun? This book examines the battle for the Messines-Wytschaete Ridge from the British, ANZAC and German perspectives. Illustrated with archive photographs and maps, it is a major contribution to our understanding of one of the seminal battles of the First World War.

• Language: English
• Publisher: The History Press
• Release date: Feb 29, 2012
• ISBN: 9780752483658

Book preview

2012

Preface

In the public domain, the First World War casts a dark shadow over our history. It is a shadow which has generated all-encompassing myths about incompetent leadership, careless attitudes towards human life and the dreadful conditions which ‘our boys’ were forced to endure. All of these things did happen, and much of the First World War was characterised by siege warfare and stalemate which was broken only by often apparently futile and costly offensives. Also, the more objective narrative does not suit the idea that virtually every campaign was fought through clinging, sucking, porridge-like mud where British soldiers and their animals were dragged to their deaths as they struggled to advance a yard or two closer to the enemy front line. Certainly, these things did happen. There is no attempt here to suggest that they did not, or that when they did, the futility of war was apparent to even the most hardened soldier in any army. Nevertheless, that is not the whole story.

The problem with such sweeping perceptions of the First World War in particular is that in the past the importance of Allied successes has been qualified by subsequent failures and the view that the German army on the Western Front was able to inflict insufferable casualties without suffering similar or greater casualties. The German situation ‘across the wire’ as I prefer to call it, has been generally neglected. Stray shells or machine-gun bullets have never respected either rank or the colour of a uniform; clinging, sucking mud was just as effective in gripping a floundering jackboot as it was a hob-nailed one.

Naturally, the passage of time becomes the mother of myth. Some facts are irrefutable, others debatable and many ignored, in order to suit the story told. Unfortunately, the consequence has been that the tragedy, or ‘pity of war’, is what many writers and historians have chosen to dwell on. The real pity is that this has largely coloured the more widespread perception of the tragedy and grim reality of this war. On balance, this is because the tragedy is more simple to discern than the ultimate triumph of the Allies on the Western Front against the main enemy – Germany.

Myths have been sustained by brushing aside or playing down the successes. After all, success does not suit the image of butchering and bungling generals and their staffs, donkeys to a man, directing major campaigns from maps in comfortable châteaux miles behind the fighting troops. It does not conform to the belief that senior officers had no idea of the reality of life in the front line. The ‘roll of honour’ of senior officers killed in action simply does not bear this out. Indeed, one brigade commander and a divisional commander within Second Army were killed by enemy action during and shortly after the battle for Messines.

Most of us have heard of the Somme, ‘Wipers’ and Passchendaele, but the full picture of the battles fought on the Somme and throughout the Ypres Salient in the final two years of the war is only vaguely known in the public domain. As we approach the twenty-first century and the inexorable ‘fading away’ of the veterans who are still with us 80 years on from the year of victory and armistice in 1918, it is most important to honour the soldiers’ achievements, as well as the great sacrifices made. Not to do so renders a great disservice to the memory of those who fought and died to secure ultimate victory in 1918.

The battle for the Messines–Wytschaete Ridge in June 1917 was a clear victory and one which has stood the test of time. Yet the name and place, together with the General who masterminded this and other successes between 1916 and 1918, ‘Plumer of Messines’, are simply not recognised today as they deserve to be.

The final eighteen months of the war saw extraordinary peaks and troughs in the fortunes of the Allies. However, by August and September 1918, the BEF was a well-led, well-resourced and mobile all-arms formation. This is all the more impressive as many of its troops were young (only 18 in 1918) and inexperienced, and the German army fought tenaciously until November and the