A hundred years ago, newspapers were filled with reports of fighting outside the Belgian town of Ypres.
Galloway’s resident military historian, Mike Peters, looks at the end of battlefield chivalry and ‘a living wall of green fog’.
In an attempt to regain the momentum of 1914, the German army had in 1915 launched an offensive in Flanders. The April would see a succession of battles we now know collectively as the ”Second Ypres”. As I explained last week, the German high command was desperate to regain the initiative and finish the war. It would stop at nothing to achieve its objective and the conventions of war were no longer considered a constraint.
Britons at home had already witnessed this. Zeppelins bombed the civilian population, German warships bombarded ports and U-boats were sinking merchant ships. There was worse to come. Newspapers reported an even more disturbing development.
Last week we left the German army’s “F Batteries” and thousands of chlorine gas cylinders waiting nervously in trenches for perfect weather conditions. It was a long and frustrating wait until, on April 22, 1915, conditions seemed acceptable.
The German plan was unconventional. Rather than bombard their objectives in the British and French lines opposite, their field artillery would initially be dormant. However, the much-heavier-calibre long-range guns would be very active shelling the rear areas behind the allied frontline.
The idea was to use the chlorine gas to kill, incapacitate or panic the allied troops in their forward positions. It was critical to the plan’s success that the chlorine cloud was dense and concentrated; explosions from an artillery barrage landing on the same ground would break up the cloud and dissipate the gas. It was for this reason that the lighter field guns were to remain inactive during the attack. German infantry was to advance immediately behind the gas cloud and pour through the chemical breach in the line. The heavy guns hitting roads and villages in the rear would prevent any interference from French or British troops advancing from outside the contaminated zone.
The attack was planned for the morning of April 22. One of the signals to release the gas and begin the heavy artillery barrage was the firing of a shell from the huge 42cm siege gun known as Big Bertha. Once the infamous gun opened fire, the gas cylinders would be opened and the artillery barrage start.
In spite of this meticulous planning and the calculations of the architect of Germany’s new chemical offensive, Fritz Haber, the wind direction and speed remained unsuitable for much of the day. Finally, at 1700 hours Big Bertha launched one of its huge shells into the centre of the French frontline and the cylinders were opened… a new and terrible form of warfare was born.
A German officer, Lieutenant Max Tiessen, watched the dense, blue-green, poisonous cloud roll ominously towards the French lines. He wrote: “It was an indescribable, unforgettable image for those of us witnessing this first gas attack at close range.” The toxic cloud had exactly the effect on unprotected troops that Haber had calculated; the chlorine attacked the eyes, nose, throat and lungs of its victims. Those immersed in it suffered horrific deaths. Many of the unfortunate French Colonial troops who bore the brunt of the attack died from dry land drowning, their lungs filled with fluid caused by the burning chemical.
Many of the North African soldiers panicked and attempted to escape the cloud, running to the rear. Unfortunately they were going in the same direction as the remnants of the cloud and suffered further injury. Others on the fringes of the attack suffered non-fatal injuries but were incapacitated.
British, Indian and Canadian troops were holding positions close to the French. Many newspapers carried the following eyewitness account attributed to a British soldier: “The strong north-easterly wind, which was blowing from the enemy trenches in the direction of the French front line, was carrying a suffocating and evil odour with it, which was evidently produced by some sort of poisonous gas.
“A living wall of green fog, about four feet in height, moved towards the French line and spread out to a width of about 180 metres. As the wall of smoke grew higher the whole area disappeared into it.
“Suddenly the rifle fire from the French increased, but gradually died down, as is often the case where soldiers do not have a particular objective to fire at and are simply defending themselves by firing in the hope of hitting something. Soon we heard strange shouts coming from the green fog. The cries became weaker and more incoherent. Then masses of soldiers tumbled upon us from out of the fog and collapsed. Most weren’t wounded but they had expressions of terror on their faces. These piteous retreating men ranked with some of the best soldiers in the world; their cold-bloodedness and courage was almost legendary. Now they were staggering along like drunks.”
The advent of gas as a weapon heralded a new level of industrial savagery. Many felt it marked the end of chivalry. The proverbial genie of chemical warfare had been released from the bottle, and both sides would now race to develop newer, more deadly chemical weapons. But perhaps there was also hope. A hundred years today, allied troops began landing on the Gallipoli peninsula. At last some good news!
If you are keen to get out on the battlefields yourself, the next day excursion to Arras travels on Tuesday, June 9 and is available to book online at www.travel-galloway.com or visit a Galloway Travel Centre for information. You can follow a battlefields feed on Twitter @GallowayBattles or find battlefield tour reports on the Galloway Travel Facebook page.
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