railways, but also to serve as infantry when required to do so. The division was serving in the
area to the north-east of Arras, in what had been the Loos Battlefield in the autumn of 1915,
north-west of the mining town of Lens and in the heart of the industrial area of north-east
France. The ground here was uniformly flat, dominated by slagheaps, mine works, industrial
buildings and villages that by 1917 were masses of rubble. Aldington’s ‘M –‘ is
the village
of Maroc and his ‘Hill 91’ is Hill 70, which the British had failed to capture in the Battle of
Loos and which remained in German hands until taken by Canadian troops in August 1917.
Aldington returned to England to undertake officer-training in May, as the Battle of Arras
was being wound down. He did not return to the front until nearly a year later, commissioned
as a second-lieutenant in the 9
th
Battalion of the Royal Sussex Regiment.
On 21 March 1918 the German Army broke through the Allied lines, penetrating thirty miles
in only two days. The 9
th
Royal Sussex were in Fifth Army, which bore the brunt of
‘Operation Michael’, fighting four major defensive battles over a fortnight, desperately
trying, as it withdrew, to maintain its links, with Third Army on the left flank and the French
on the right, until the line finally stiffened on 4 April, fifty miles back from its starting point.
Meanwhile, the German onslaught shifted north to Arras and then to Flanders, where it
continued throughout April. The already depleted British Army suffered 236,000 casualties,
of whom 120,000 were taken prisoner. Every available man in England was drafted to
France; Aldington left England on 18 April.
The 9
th
Royal Sussex were now stationed in the Loos sector which Aldington had left in the
spring of 1917. Hill 70 was now in British hands. Like Winterbourne, Aldington became an
acting company commander, because of the battalion’s shortage of officers. Now that the
Germans had exhausted their reserves, the Allied advance to victory began. Lens was taken
on 28 August. Shortly afterwards Aldington was sent on a signals course – he would be the
battalion’s signals officer on his return. By 8 October he was on his way back to his battalion.
Winterbourne was back on the Somme, that incredible desert, pursuing the
retreating enemy. They came up the Bapaume-Cambrai road by night, and bivouacked
in holes scratched with entrenching tools in the side of a sandy bank. The wrecked
countryside in the pale moonlight was a frigid and motionless image of death. They
spoke in whispers, awed by the immensity of desolation. By day the whole landscape
was covered with the debris left by the broken German armies. Smashed tanks, guns
with their wheels broken, stood out like fixed wrecks in the unmoving ocean of shell-
holes. The whole earth seemed a litter of overcoats, shaggy leather packs, rifles, water-
bottles, gas-masks, steel helmets, bombs, entrenching tools, cast away in the panic of
flight. By night the sky glowed with the flames of burning Cambrai, with the black
hump of Bourlon Hill silhouetted against them.
24th Division was ready to take part in the final battle of the Hindenburg Line, the Battle of
Cambrai. From bivouacs near Cantaing, the battalion had moved forward to a position east of
the St Quentin Canal. They captured villages to the north-east of Cambrai; Aldington’s ‘F-‘ is
not easy to identify: the principal village taken by the battalion in this sector was Cauroir on 9