Peterborough Advertiser 19th June 1915
Sergeant Yerrells Story of the 9th
Sergeant S Yerrell of the 1st Northamptonshire Regiment, whose mother lives at 78 Belsize Avenue, writes, “I hope you will be able to find space to insert this letter from two or three men of Peterborough who have been out here fighting since 12th August (1914) with the 1st Northants thus having been had about ten months good fighting. The names of us are, Corporal Bradley, Lance Corporal B. Cape {believed to be Cope, not Cape}, Private J Davey and the writer, Sgt S Yerrell. I will do my best to give you an idea of what it was like on the 9th of May, when our regiment suffered great losses. We were marched off on the night of the 8th to take up our position in the trenches, and the men went with good heart and only too eager to grapple with the enemy. All instructions were given to the men before hand as to what they had to do. The morning of the 9th broke upon us with the sun shining on the battlefield, the birds giving us a cheerful song as he partook of a little food just before the great attack. At 5am we heard the tumbling sound overhead, as if a lot of machines were working, it was the opening up of the bombardment by our artillery, by looking over the trench and seeing houses brought down to the ground in a cloud of red and black smoke, we knew that it was the firing of our big gun known to us as “Mother”. It fired three or four times when all of a sudden about a thousand guns of different calibre opened fire with terrible rapidity, and it was as if the air was alive with shells which played “Old Harry” with the enemy’s trenches. We crouched down behind our own trenches waiting for the word “Advance” whilst shells went on before us with a message of death, playing havoc with everything in front. At last the watches of the officers pointed to 5.31am with the artillery still coughing, and the Germans answering with “Jack Johnsons” which the plugged into our trenches with showers of shrapnel over our heads. When the order came down the lines, “Over the top and advance” all the soldiers, some of whom had been fighting for months, some of whom were about to have their baptism of fire, joined in the biggest attack ever known. It was grand to see how everyone behaved, for it was as if the whole army jumped up like one man to go out for their revenge on an enemy who had debased himself by murdering innocent women and children. We went out to meet the dreadful fire of machine guns and rifles amid a constant rain of bursting shells which decimated our men, but still they went on, but with one object in front of them, to drive the enemy from the position and gain victory for England.
The front line consisted of “B” and “D” Companies of the 1st Northamptonshire Regiment, and two companies of the Royal Sussex, who have proved themselves to be a good lot of fighters. With men falling all round, the two companies of our regiment went on until within 300 yards of the barbed wire, with the remainder of the regiment coming upon on our left and at the rear. At this point we found that we could not get any further, and one officer gave the command for his men to get in line with him and lie down, unlucky it was for him, for a shot killed him there and then. It was awful, for the enemy, knowing how they were fixed, fired on us with machine guns. Killing our wounded as they tried to crawl back to cover, and the other men who were at their mercy. It was the worst thing I have ever been through, when I could see what had happened I made for cover myself, whilst the artillery on both sides kept up a terrible fire. It was awful to see our wounded start to creep back, only to be hit once again, very often fatally, I was sick at heart, for as I looked round I could only see men who had answered their country’s call, and had bravely laid dowm their lives for England’s sake.
It was about 4 o’clock when the bombardment started afresh, and looking around I could see the famous regiment, the Black Watch, steadily advancing over the same ground that we had covered in the morning, they did indeed gain the enemy’s first trench, but soon afterwards were forced to leave it again. Towards night the firing slackened a little, and I waited patiently for darkness so that I could creep back out of the firing zone. At 10 o’clock I chanced it, running as fast as my legs could carry me until I reached my own trench. With one bound I was on the other side, not caring who was there but only wanting to gain my regiment, or what was left of it. I tell you, I said my prayers when I got there, and it was not the first time that day, nor was I the only man. You may guess what we thought when we looked around and saw what was left of the 48th.