Saturday 10 September 2016

A Greater Sum of Sorrow

A GREATER SUM OF SORROW: The Battles of Bullecourt
David Coombes
Big Sky Publishing, 2016, 427pp
ISBN 9781925275650

This volume on the two Battles of Bullecourt, in early 1917, provides a useful companion to Dr David Coombes’ earlier books on Sir Leslie Morshead, Sir JJ Talbot Hobbs and Australian prisoners of war during World War I.

Coombes covers the two Bullecourt battles comprehensively. First, however, he discusses the Fifth Army commander, General Gough. It would be fair to say that Coombes does not regard him with great favour. Australians first served under Gough at Pozières, and the unfavourable impression they gained there of his impatience and arrogance was confirmed at Bullecourt. His Chief of Staff, Major General Malcolm was also held in poor regard in the British Expeditionary Force (BEF).

The original intention of the first attack was to provide a feint to take some pressure away from the Battle of Arras. Field Marshal Haig, however, expanded the intention to a full attack on the Hindenburg Line, but then backed away from this. Gough decided to persist with the original plan, despite a shortage of artillery and time. Coombes speculates that one reason might have been that success at Bullecourt would strengthen his claim to lead the attack planned around Ypres later in 1917.

Australian leaders also come in for criticism. Lieutenant General Birdwood and Major General White seemed to ignore the evidence of German machine guns covering the area chosen for the attack. Birdwood accepted an argument that roads should “not be further damaged by ‘hurrying up guns and ammunition’”, an unusual proposition in a war where strong artillery support was recognised as an important element in an attack! Coombes considers that Birdwood and White should have argued more vigorously for a ‘proper preliminary artillery barrage’, and ensured that the machine gun positions were neutralised.

The eventual plan for the first attack (after many confusing changes, made right up to the last minute) was for an assault with minimal artillery support, but accompanied by 12 tanks. The troops involved had no opportunity to familiarise themselves with the tanks, which would approach the start line in darkness. The postponement of the attack for a day after the tanks failed to arrive simply warned the Germans to be alert.

Coombes records that during the first attack, Birdwood rejected reports from his subordinates that it had failed, and that artillery support was desperately needed, preferring to believe false reports that Australians were in ‘Hendecourt and Riencourt’. At least 18 requests for artillery support ‘went unanswered’. When the artillery finally intervened, it caused heavy casualties among captured Australians being marched to the rear. The tanks made no significant contribution to the attack.

Like the 5th Division after Fromelles in July 1916, the 4th Division was shattered after First Bullecourt. Paralleling Lieutenant General Haking’s comment after Fromelles that the attack ‘has done both divisions [involved] a great deal of good’, Gough expressed his belief that ‘the Anzac attack had been of great assistance’ even after its complete failure.

Coombes describes planning for the second attack that was not greatly improved over that for the first. Haig and Gough both focussed on wider political and personal ambitions, which they hoped that the attack might help to fulfil. Birdwood succeeded in rejecting the use of tanks, and in improving the artillery plan, but while the final orders issued were ‘clear and comprehensive’, the machine guns near Quéant that had caused heavy casualties during the first attack were not bombarded. Coombes blames this failure and other planning weaknesses largely on the staffs of I ANZAC and the 2nd Division. The second attack was also a costly failure.

While Coombes does not specifically mention it, the major attacks carried out by the AIF during its first year in France and Flanders were all either costly failures (Fromelles and the Bullecourt battles) or tactical victories obtained at excessive cost (Pozières and Mouquet Farm). The AIF’s next major attack (Messines in June 1917) was a success, as were its early attacks during 3rd Ypres, albeit the later parts of that offensive degenerated into a muddy blood bath.

Recent scholarship on World War I has proposed a theory of a ‘learning curve’ in the BEF on the Western Front. There seems much logic behind that theory, but it is also clear from Coombes’ account that there were many slow learners.

Coombes’ book takes much of the gloss off White’s reputation as the eminence grise behind Birdwood (whose weaknesses as a tactician seem to be well accepted). It might be time that White’s full career received a new examination, including his role in the over-expansion of the AIF in 1916 and in post-war planning, to replace Bean’s earlier somewhat hagiographic work.

Regrettably there are some editorial weaknesses. Coombes seems to have some trouble with the (admittedly rather quirky) British infantry battalion nomenclature, particularly for Territorial and new Army units. One notable error is a reference to the Honourable Artillery Company as ‘Honorary’! He also has some difficulty with the accents on French place (such as Pozières and Quéant) and personal (such as Poincaré and d’Espèrey) names. At one point, Major General Walker is named as commander of the 4th Division, rather than Major General Holmes, while Major General Legge’s middle name appears as ‘Walker’, rather than ‘Gordon’. Some German words also are misspelled in places, although correct elsewhere.



JOHN DONOVAN