Mud, Blood and Bullets: Memoirs of a Machine Gunner on the Western Front by Edward Rowbotham

Author:Edward Rowbotham [Rowbotham, Edward]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Biography & Memoirs, World War I
Goodreads: 7791855
Publisher: The History Press
Published: 2010-07-14T04:00:00+00:00

When we went back into the trenches after our rest following the Third Battle of Ypres, we were fortunate in that the sector we moved into contained good, deep trenches and proper dugouts to live in. We were in the second line of trenches, which were on high ground and dry for a change, with the front line below us about 100 yards ahead. So, we were in a position to fire over the heads of the front line troops if and when necessary. This position was comparatively comfortable and was fairly quiet, except for frequent night raids by one side or the other.

It was here that I received the grim news of my brother. Tom’s ship, the SS Kilmayo had been sunk in enemy action in the Bristol Channel in May 1917, and all hands had been lost except for one, whose testimony confirmed the loss. The news shook me deeply, and my reaction was bitter. To think that my young brother, still only in his teens, should be killed by enemy action. At that moment, my hatred of the Germans was so intense that, on looking back now, I can scarcely believe I was capable of such hatred. I vowed to kill seven Germans for my brother’s death. Why seven? I didn’t know then and I don’t know now, but that was the number that came into my mind as I vowed to avenge the death of Tom. Our position behind the front line and a series of other coincidences enabled me to fulfil my vow that very same night.

Orders came to us during the day that we were to lay (aim) the gun on the German front line and fire all night at infrequent intervals. The intervals of firing were not to be regular but varied so that the Germans could not take advantage of the lulls. I was in charge of the gun team and I announced to the boys that I intended to fire the gun myself all night long and I would need only one sentry at a time instead of the usual two. This meant that each man needed to do only one hour on sentry duty and five hours off, as there were six of them.

I carried out my intention and fired the machine gun at intervals throughout the night. When daylight came, we dismantled the gun for cleaning while the other boys boiled water for making tea. After breakfast, we were sitting in the trench taking things easy when along came a man of the Notts and Derby Regiment, who had come via the communication trench from the front line.

He asked, ‘Is this the gun that’s been firing all night?’

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘Is anything wrong?’

‘Far from it,’ he replied. ‘We’ve been out in front all night repairing the wire [barbed wire entanglements] and the Jerries have been trying to sneak forward, throwing hand grenades. They couldn’t quite reach us, thanks to your gun. Now there are seven of ’em lying on their own wire.

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