Battle Story: Passchendaele 1917

by Chris McNab

Overview

Passchendaele 1917 is the story of one of the most pitiless and iconic battles of the First World War, known today as Third Ypres. Fought over three tortuous months in 1917, the fighting raged through some of the worst physical conditions of the entire war, across battlefields collapsing into endless mud and blood. Eventually, more than 500,000 casualties bought front-line changes measured only in hundreds of yards. If you truly want to understand what happened and why – read Battle Story.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9780750962797
Publisher:	The History Press
Publication date:	12/01/2014
Series:	Battle Story
Sold by:	Barnes & Noble
Format:	eBook
Pages:	160
File size:	6 MB
Age Range:	18 Years

About the Author

Chris McNab is a writer and editor who specialises in military history and technology. He is an author of many internationally bestselling books on weapons and warfare, including titles in the Battle Story series on Verdun and Cambrai, as well as The World War I Story (all The History Press) i, as well as The Great Book of Guns; How to Survive Anything, Anywhere; The Illustrated History of the Vietnam War; Modern Military Uniforms; The SAS Mental Endurance Handbook; and Special Forces Survival Guide.

Read an Excerpt

Passchendaele 1917

---

By Chris McNab

The History Press

Copyright © 2014 The History Press
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-7509-6279-7

---

CHAPTER 1

HISTORICAL BACKGROUND

In 1914, as war crept across the Flanders landscape, few people in Ypres could have conceived that their streets and fields would remain a battlefield for the next four years. The Third Battle of Ypres, as its name implies, was one of just a series of clashes fought for the same locale, events separated by time but not by distance. To comprehend the battle that occurred in 1917, we also need to understand the major battles for Ypres that preceded it.

First Ypres

The First Battle of Ypres (more commonly known by its compressed form, 'First Ypres') was in many ways the culmination of the Race to the Sea (roughly 17 September–19 October 1914). As the scramble unfolded, the area around Ypres was in Allied hands, held by a combined force of French cavalry and also V Corps of the BEF.

Fighting started south of Ypres, at La Bassée, on 10 October, and on 16 October the Allied Ypres forces began to probe out against three corps of the German Fourth Army, while the German Sixth Army was pushing forward against positions around Armentières, situated between La Bassée and Ypres itself. Then on the 18th, the combined might of the German Fourth and Sixth Armies began a thrust against Ypres, in an attempt to break through the city and secure the Channel ports to the west.

We need a sense of both the geography of the region plus the emotions behind the strategic decisions made in 1914. Ypres was in many ways a backstop for the British, and not an altogether logical one at that. During the geographical jostling of that bloody autumn, the British found themselves in position of a salient that arced out into German lines and had a perimeter of roughly 16 miles (26km). The eastern perimeter of the salient was inscribed by a series of ridges, described in military nomenclature as hills but actually gently rolling undulations, the highest of which, Hill 60, was only 197ft (60m) above sea level. Ypres itself was in the centre of the base of the salient, set on the Menin Road along which the Germans attacked in their attempt to cut out the salient and reach the coast.

During October, it appeared to many, that Ypres would fall to the German thrust. A reinforced Sixth Army made a renewed push between Messines and the Menin Road, and the next day Gheluvelt – a key village just 8 miles (13km) from the centre of Ypres – fell to the Germans. Yet this was no easy victory for the Germans. Some 1,000 British soldiers inflicted hefty losses on thirteen battalions of German troops, shattering the offensive momentum of the Germans in the process. The line had moved but was holding for the British, and such consolidation was supported by the fact that the French were also cementing their defensive lines around Ypres. The Germans summoned their strength once more, and, on 11 November, unleashed twelve and a half divisions against the Allied lines, striking between Dixmude and Messines. Despite the ferocity of the assault, and the fact that the Germans had a superiority of four divisions compared to the enemy who opposed them, the attack was blunted with devastating losses.

The French general, Joseph Joffre, later recounted the steps of the German collapse at First Ypres, while also looking ahead to the subsequent style of warfare that bedevilled the sector:

By the 14th [November] our troops had again begun to progress, barring the road to Ypres against the German attacks, and inflicting on the enemy, who advanced in massed formation, losses which were especially terrible in consequence of the fact that the French and British artillery had crowded nearly 300 guns on to these few kilometres of front.

Thus the main mass of the Germans sustained the same defeat as the detachments operating further to the north along the coast. The support which, according to the idea of the German General Staff, the attack on Ypres was to render to the coastal attack, was as futile as that attack itself had been.

During the second half of November the enemy, exhausted and having lost in the Battle of Ypres alone more than 150,000 men, did not attempt to renew his effort, but confined himself to an intermittent cannonade.

We, on the contrary, achieved appreciable progress to the north and south of Ypres, and insured definitely by a powerful defensive organization of the position the inviolability of our front.

Joseph Joffre, in Source Records of the Great War, Vol. II, ed. Charles F. Horne (National Alumni, 1923).

By 22 November, First Ypres had run its course. The perimeter of the salient had shrunk to 11 miles (18km), but Ypres stood safe. As with almost all calculations of the First World War battle casualties, the true cost of First Ypres will never be known. The losses were definitely heavy – an educated estimation is around 58,000 British, up to 85,000 French (reminding us of the dominant French role in First Ypres) and 21,500 Belgians. Yet German losses were almost certainly north of 100,000, likely to be around 134,000, and in the brutal calculus of attrition that dominated military thinking during the First World War, this made First Ypres an Allied victory.

Yet we have to ask, was Ypres itself worth holding? Salients are typically costly places to hold, being on the receiving end of numerous attacks and heavy artillery fire. The classic military thinking is that lines should be straightened to make them more defendable. For this, and other reasons, many military historians have questioned the value of holding the salient; such as Lyn MacDonald in her highly recommended book Passchendaele: The Story of the Third Battle of Ypres 1917:

The sensible thing would have been to withdraw from the salient, abandoning Ypres, and establish a stronger line in the rear beyond the canal bank [the Ypres Canal, which ran north–south through the city], a tactical possibility which had indeed been earlier considered. But emotion was riding high, at least in Britain, where the flags waved and the drums beat and the newspapers trumpeted forth glory in every edition. Public opinion, like Queen Victoria during the Crimean War, was not interested in the possibility of defeat.

Lyn MacDonald, Passchendaele (London: Penguin, 2013) p.8.

MacDonald, here speaking about the Ypres situation in 1915, sees the key reasons for holding Ypres as emotional rather than tactical – the Allies simply didn't want to see any more land fall into German hands, or the losses sustained in defending Ypres being made pointless by withdrawal. Indeed, MacDonald goes on to point out that General Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien, of the British Second Army, did indeed propose a reduction of the salient in 1915, but was removed from command for his temerity.

Yet for the all the costliness of the Ypres Salient, a case for its military merit can be made. For example, even allowing for the depth of the salient, the distance between the front line and the coastal ports was less than 18 miles (30km), and any lessening of that distance raised the future prospect of a concerted German push reaching the sea. Also, just west of Ypres were major British logistical centres, including twenty-seven railheads and seven ammunition dumps. The range of German field artillery at this time was between 6,000 and (at the extreme end) 20,000 yards (5,486m and 18,288m), so reducing the depth of the salient could have brought more vital supply bases within gun range. Shortening the salient also meant that the British and Allies would have further to cover in future offensives to reach the strategic ridgelines. The vital German railhead at Roulers lay behind the German front line, pushing arms and men into battle directly from the Ruhr. Keeping the salient meant that the British would have a better shot in the future at severing this vital communication hub.

So Ypres was not necessarily a strategic folly – whatever its status, however, it would be a costly acquisition.

The Ongoing Battle and Second Ypres

First Ypres had cost the BEF dearly. The fighting had reduced some of the British battalions to little more than an officer and fewer than 100 men. Furthermore, Ypres itself was now the subject of a steady German bombardment, which would roll on with sluggish brutality for much of the rest of the war. Ypres itself would be gutted by high-explosive, its once-beautiful medieval civic centre reduced to shattered angles and gaunt ruins.

Yet the salient, as blasted as it would become, was to be held. Manpower was required, and the encouragement of volunteerism in Britain ultimately filled the gaps. Encouraged by jingoistic newspapers, posters and cinema reels, some 2.6 million British men joined up in 1915. The recruitment was also supplemented by the ingress of soldiery from across the British Empire. Ypres received a strong contingent of Canadians plus a regiment from the Indian Army. The Canadians in particular would go on to have a ferocious and bloody relationship with Ypres.

In terms of the wider war, 1915 broke with both sides unhappy with the stalemate and looking for offensive means of breaking through the enemy's lines. The French had launched a costly and inconsequential campaign in Artois in December 1914, and this sputtered on in fits and starts until March 1915, by which time the German front line had scarcely moved and the French had lost 240,000 men.

As winter turned to spring, the British also made an offensive move, launching a major attack at Neuve Chapelle in the Artois on 10 March. This effort was a moderate success. The initial thrust, supported by a short but stunning artillery barrage, took Neuve Chapelle in the initial assault, and broke open the German lines. Yet the casualties suffered during the first phase of the attack, and British problems in transferring reserves to the front, meant that the attack petered out within three days, the British repelling a German counterattack but unable to push further on and secure the Aubers Ridge.

The Aubers Ridge remained an inexorable draw for the Allied commanders. Together the French and the British commanders, on 29 March 1915 at Chantilly, planned a joint offensive in the Artois, with the Aubers and Vimy Ridges as the objectives. The Germans had their own plans, which once again focused on the Ypres Salient bulging out into their lines. The German offensive, courtesy of the Fourth Army, was launched at 1700 hrs on 22 April. Its strategic objective was essentially to cut out the salient while also making some meaningful noises on the Western Front, to keep the British and French busy while Germany was heavily engaged on the Eastern Front. What made 'Second Ypres' so distinctive in the history of the war was the weapon that Germany decided to deploy to break the enemy lines – poison gas. Yet the use of lethal chemicals on the battlefield was specifically forbidden by Article 23 of the Hague Convention. Although several leading German commanders considered poison gas to be unethical or unmanly in nature, their squeamishness was overridden by General Erich von Falkenhayn, the chief of the German general staff.

The preparatory shelling of the Allied lines at Ypres began at 0500 hrs, with light field artillery hitting the front-line positions while the German heavy artillery reached into the centre of Ypres, with bloody results for the civilians there. The gas was meant to be the prelude to the infantry attack; it would be dispersed from 5,730 forward-emplaced gas cylinders, each 3ft 6in (1m) long. The problem for the Germans was that the wind was blowing in the wrong direction for much of the day, prohibiting the release of the gas until the late afternoon, when the winds changed. The valves were opened and a new, dreadful era in warfare began.

The first formations to receive the yellow-green chlorine gas were the Canadian 3rd Brigade and the French Algerian 45th Colonial Division. The effects were horrendous, both psychologically and physically. Thousands of soldiers were choking for survival, and behind the gas came wave after wave of German infantry, naturally hoping to exploit the situation they had imposed. Two French divisions collapsed, exposing the flank of the Canadian 1st Division, and the Germans also managed to secure Langemarck, Pilckem, St Julien and Gravenstafel within two days of the attack beginning. The Canadian division mounted an epic defence, stretching themselves to breaking point to cover the gap left by the retreating French divisions.

Ultimately, the British, Commonwealth and French forces could not resist the weight of the German infantry and artillery, and a general withdrawal was conducted on 1 May, back to a new line of resistance. The German offensive eventually sputtered out during May, but by 25 May the British front line around Ypres had shrunk considerably. At its deepest point, the salient was now just 21/2 miles (4km) from the centre of Ypres, and well within the shelling range of most variants of German artillery. Another 58,000 Allied casualties and 38,000 German losses meant that Ypres was rapidly becoming a place of sheer human attrition.

Gas Effects

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, then aged 55 but a signed-up infantryman nonetheless, described what he witnessed of the gas attack during Second Ypres:

The French troops, staring over the top of the parapet at this curious screen which ensured them a temporary relief from fire, were observed to suddenly throw up their hands, to clutch at their throats, and to fall to the ground in agonies of asphyxiation. Many lay where they had fallen, while their comrades, absolutely helpless against this diabolical agency, rushed madly out of the mephitic mist and made for the rear, over-running the lines of the trenches between them. Many of them never halted until they had reached Ypres, while others rushed westwards and the put the canal between themselves and the enemy.

Arthur Conan Doyle, The British Campaign in France and Flanders 1915 (London, Hodder & Stoughton, 1919) e-book.

The Build-up to Third Ypres

The strategic situation for the British at Ypres between June 1915 and June 1917 was grim. In general, the Allies in Belgium were confined to a relatively narrow strip of the country, pressed against the coast and with most of Flanders, including the coastal towns of Ostend and Zeebrugge, in German hands. Because the Germans had supply lines stretching back to Germany, and the advantages of the rail network, they were in a far stronger situation (although Flanders was not an easy logistical supply route even for the Germans – see 'The Legacy' chapter below). They took advantage of this situation by constructing a powerful network of ferro-concrete emplacements along their front lines. These were monstrous positions, capable of shrugging off even the heaviest Allied shells that smashed down onto their roofs. In these positions they sat out the war in relative protection for the next two years.

The situation over the other side of the wire was somewhat different. The Allied forces did not have the requisite supplies of concrete and other construction materials to create a substantial bunker system. Instead they hewed trenches in to the clay-heavy, sodden ground of Flanders. This land was damp and unwieldy at the best of times, but the constant German shelling had served to smash up the drainage networks that laced the land, effectively returning the countryside to the bog that it originally was. The consequences for the Allied troops were some of the most appalling living and operating conditions on the Western Front.

Strategically, the situation at Ypres in 1915 had little to recommend it for the Allies. The front line ran from just north of Nieuport, following the River Yser around Dixmude before swelling out around Ypres, then cutting back in sharply under the strategically important high ground of the Messines Ridge to the south. The land north of Ypres was largely inundated, so if the Germans wanted to press through to the coast behind Ypres the best route was to strike directly through Ypres itself. The Germans were essentially clustered around the salient, occupying the key ridgelines with their infantry and also their artillery observers, who could mercilessly direct the fire of the German big guns onto the Allied positions laid out in front of them. Just moving, letting alone fighting, was a challenge for the beleaguered Allied defenders.

The British answer to the stalemate on the Western Front was offensives, regularly conducted with the aim of breaking through the German front lines and shifting the enemy onto the back foot. And yet, between 1915 and 1917 the Ypres sector remained largely static. From June 1915 until the end of the year, the offensive activities were mostly confined (on the Western Front, at least) to Champagne and Artois, albeit with little overall change in the configuration of the front line. The following year, 1916, was dominated by two of the most destructive and prolonged battles in the history of warfare – Verdun and the Somme — both of which consumed the lives and efforts of hundreds of thousands of men, while the men of Flanders continued their stubborn and frequently monotonous stand-off with the Germans opposite.

(Continues...)

---

Excerpted from Passchendaele 1917 by Chris McNab. Copyright © 2014 The History Press. Excerpted by permission of The History Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

---

Table of Contents

Contents

Title,
Acknowledgements,
Introduction,
Timeline,
Historical Background,
First Ypres,
The Ongoing Battle and Second Ypres,
The Build-up to Third Ypres,
The Armies,
The British and Commonwealth Forces,
The French Army,
The German Army,
Kit and Equipment,
Weapons,
Tactics,
The Days Before Battle,
Planning the Battle,
Preparations,
The Battlefield: What Actually Happened?,
The Battle of Pilckem Ridge,
Westhoek and Langemarck,
Strategic Focus,
Menin Road Ridge and Polygon Wood,
Broodseinde and Poelcappelle,
The Experience of Battle,
The Battles of Passchendaele,
After the Battle,
The Offensives of 1918,
The Legacy,
Orders of Battle,
Further Reading,
Copyright,