AN EARLY MORNING RAID.

Otago Witness, Issue 3302, 27 June 1917, Page 38 (Supplement)

AN EARLY MORNING RAID.

FOLLOWING THE BARRAGE. A vivid account of a raid on the Gci man trenches is given in a letter received by Mr A. South from his son, Sergeant

Arthur South. "This was a daylight stunt," he writes, "and a little larger than ordinary raids, so that : : t was necessary that evei-y man should know his job blindfolded. One-thirty the gas guard wakes us and we lug our men out oi' bed. We have breakfast quietly and off down to the parade ground, leaving our billets as silently as possible. Three o'clock the captain gives the word, and off we go to the

trenches. Two and a hall hours marching in the dark and we reach the front line. It takes us about ?5 minutes to shake down into our places. Everything has to be dene quietly. We don't want Fritz to know what's in store for him. The duckboards have been padded to silence the movements of such a large party, and every man's on the alert. Everything ready find

ihe section commanders are left with their sections and are to all intents and purposes the onlv leaders the men look to. Of course, thera arc officers with us, but they look to us, the section leaders, to be 19spensiblo for our little lot. Everything is dead silent and just like the sudden slamming of a largo door every gun lets it rip. It's a dead heat right along the line. You'd think that hell was suddenly let loose. The

first move is ovor the top and getting through the gap in our wire, and it's now for it; so, glancing round and giving a wave to the section, I make a dive over the top. We are how in No Man's Land, and the mud is thick and sticky, and shell holes are plentiful. You can't hear yourself speak as we struggle across towards Fritz's home —no dash or running. Every

man walks quietly forward, with shells bursting everywhere. We can see our own barrage in front of us, and just at the right minute (everything's done to time) we see the barrage lift. We are just in ihe half-light and a thick mist, and the smoke from the bursting shells hangs over everything. Fritz's wire is well cut and we have no difficulty in getting thiough and over his front line, which is so badly bashed

about that it is almost unrecognised as having been a trench On we go to the second lire, and things &re just beginning to get ■j. bit mixed there—bombs flying about and Fritz blowing whistles and putting up flares of many colours (he's hot stuff on fireworks). We've reached our objective, some have done a" b t of scrapping, we've blown up his dugouts ani emplacements that the artil-

lery have not accounted for, killed a few I Germans, taken a few prisoners and are all J gathering up our own wounded and getting back home. This is the worst part of the whole stunt. We thoroughly stirred Fritz up, and he's pasting our trenches and No Man's Land, but it's got to be faced. Just as I reached Fritz's front trench coming back. I met a sergeant with an officer who has been hit in the wrist. He's pretty I

bad and the ground is hellish, so wo get each sdo of him and help him back. The journey seems to last a week, but is really enly a, few minutes, and we reach our own trenches, worn out and ready to drop. It's only 25 minutes since the word go. Fritz is shelling our cornmjunication saps and wo caa only stay in the front trench. . . . The artillery barrage was-

great. We have always been told to work right up to within 60 yards of the barrage, so as to be handy to hop in as soon a& the barrage lifts" This gives you the shraor.il bursting right overhead. When we've had officers telling us to keep close up we've smiled and said 'perhaps,' but now we know that our artillery is perfect, and' that we aro safer up under the barrage tlian in our own trenches."