Effects on morale

One of the most fundamental factors of any effective fighting force is the morale of the men that make up that force. The degree to which this is felt can determine an army's ability to fight or to defend its position. Perhaps the most extreme example of the extent to which low morale can render an army ineffective are the mutinies that occurred within the French Army at the end of April 1917. In reaction to the disastrous 'Nivelle offensive', drunkenness became rife, there was widespread absenteeism and a general refusal to obey orders. Whole divisions refused to go into the front-line, particularly to take the offensive and as a result the French Army had to maintain a defensive posture until 1918 when American forces would arrive in sufficient numbers to lend practical help (1). The aim of this chapter is to look at how mining operations, and the very nature of mining itself, affected the morale of those manning front line positions on both sides; how this in turn determined the attitude of ordinary soldiers and their commanders towards tunnellers and mining in general; the morale of the tunnellers themselves; to look at the positive aspects, such as the evolution of more sophisticated listening devices that defensive mining required; and the methods and systems employed to give protection to front line positions.


First honours in mine warfare, as discussed in the previous chapter, went to the Germans when, on 20 December 1914, ten mines were fired underneath the Sirhind Brigade ± that was holding the front near Festubert. Taken completely by surprise and 'shocked' by the force of the explosions those troops that had survived the initial blast rushed from the trenches towards the rear. The effect on the morale of the surviving troops, and on others as word spread, was such that some units refused to return to the front (2). As a result the whole of the Indian Corps had to be withdrawn to reserve, draining already depleted and much-needed manpower. The German blows had introduced a new more terrifying aspect to the war; 'above, death came suddenly; below, his approach was slow and stealthy, and the waiting time was enough to shake the stoutest heart' (3). Tunnelling had robbed the infantry of the little security that a trench could provide (4). If a soldier stayed below the parapet of a trench it offered some protection from small arms fire and, in the early stages at least, some protection from artillery with the exception of a direct hit. An assault, with the exception of trench raids that used small units of men, was usually precipitated by an artillery bombardment. In this way an attack was expected and measures could be taken to repel the assault. Mining, if undetected, would catch those manning front-line trenches totally unprepared, leaving those who were not killed disorientated and demoralised, all of which aided the inevitable infantry assault that followed.


Initially, the general attitude of the British troops towards tunnellers was mixed. In areas where there was no known mining activity tunnelling companies were not particularly welcomed and in some instances were greeted with some hostility for fear that this would result in enemy mining of their positions. In places where the sounds of mining activity were detected they were greeted as saviours. Despite the call from the front for protection against enemy mining there was a distinct lack of co-operation between the infantry and tunnellers, particularly at command level. As British and Commonwealth troops moved further south to take over positions previously occupied by the French in early 1916, trench systems were reorganised. 'New trenches would be dug to meet the surface conditions, without any reference to the tactical situation underground as ascertained by the tunnellers, and were immediately blown up by enemy mines over which they were constructed' (5). Blame and counter blame was often the result.


1915 was a particularly troublesome year for the tunnelling companies. German sappers had taken and had maintained the initiative, which would not be wrested from them until 1916-17. As a result the tunnellers were consistently on the defensive in order to protect the infantry from offensive mining. The constant fear the infantry had of being undermined only increased the burden of the already hard-pressed tunnelling officers as one contemporary, himself a tunnelling officer, observed. 'For the hundreds who are killed, buried, or injured from enemy mines there are thousands who suffer a mental strain from the mere suspicion of their existence' (6). This constant fear produced persistent demands for tunnelling officers to investigate any noise that may be attributed to enemy mining. Frequently there would be a rational explanation for the sounds that had been heard which, with the benefit of hindsight and the passage of time, seem comical. One report of mining activity turned out to be a 'brood of young mice squeaking in their nest behind the timbers of a dugout. The croaking of frogs in a pond in the garden of a house used as a Brigade Headquarters was thought to be the sound of an enemy boring machine until suspicion was allayed by a Tunnelling Officer' (7). Tunnelling Officers were in short supply and this activity, necessary as it was to ease the minds of those in vulnerable positions, stretched the already hard pressed tunnelling companies. However, as they became more organised and experienced, listening was usually given over to NCOs or sufficiently trained sappers.


In order to fully utilise those tunnellers involved in determining whether or not enemy mining was actually taking place, there was a need to find suitable and more accurate listening devices rather than relying on the unaided ear. The infantry themselves used a large drum which would be sunk into the floor of a trench and filled to the brim with water. A soldier would then lie down in the mud soaked trench and place his ear into the freezing water and listen for sounds of enemy mining activity, keeping his ear in the water for as long as he could bear. The problem with this was that they were not trained in how to distinguish between the sounds that mining produces and the every day noises of life at the front. The 'Metropolitan Water Board' supplied one of the first listening aids that the tunnellers themselves used. This consisted of a length of stick that was used in detecting leaks from water pipes. The tunneller would push the stick into the ground and would hold the exposed portion in-between his teeth in order to feel the vibrations from below. Like the former, this method of listening was unreliable, as it was difficult to differentiate between the sound of mining and that of artillery bombardment nearby. An improvised listening device was used in the form of a French Army water bottle. 'Suitable on account of its round, flat shape, the bottle was filled with water, and to the stopper was fitted a rubber tube, an ear piece being attached to the other end' (8). Once experience was gained in its use this became reasonably reliable.


By the beginning of 1916 there were two specifically designed listening aids in use with the tunnelling companies. The first and most simple device of the two was the French-made geophone. This 'consisted of two wooden discs filled with mercury, faced with mica and bearing nipples to which a stethoscope could be attached' (9). The geophone had the ability to amplify the sounds of mining without increasing other background noises to the same degree. It was also possible, by manoeuvring the discs around, to gain a reliable bearing and direction of an approaching enemy mine. It was also, as one Tunnelling Officer argued, 'a great aid in reassuring infantry who heard noises' (10) by allowing the men concerned to use the instrument for themselves while at the same time explaining what the various noises were. The second listening aid came into service in March 1916. Developed by the Western Electric Company 'this battery-powered device picked up earth tremors and converted them into electrical impulses, which were then fed to a telephone receiver' (11). Theoretically, accurate readings of 'direction' and range should have been possible using this machine. However, in reality it did not live up to the expectations placed upon it and it was useful only in the fact that it could confirm that mining was actually taking place. Nevertheless both these listening aids greatly increased the chances of early detection than had previously been possible and enabled those tunnellers sufficiently trained in the use of this equipment some time to prepare counter measures.


As tunnels became longer and more complex air to those men working at the face became a major problem. Tools and equipment at the outset of mining operations were old and antiquated; the majority of which dated from the Crimean War and had been in storage since 1856. The hand-cranked air pumps were noisy and could not deliver enough air. After a short period working at the face the tunnellers became aware of their own laboured breathing which made an 'extraordinary roaring noise' in the silent tunnels' (12). As a result men suffered from fatigue and appalling headaches at the end of each shift and the air pumps were replaced by blacksmiths bellows attached to toughened hoses until silent electric pumps came into service Ŧ.


The morale of the tunnellers themselves was tested on an almost daily basis. Though many were experienced miners, the tunnels they now worked in were much smaller and more confining. The added dimension of course was the war itself. Mining in low, narrow tunnels with outdated equipment was bad enough. The danger was increased dramatically by conditions of war (13). German artillery frequently sought out front-line trenches in the hope of destroying a mine entrance. The destruction of a shaft entrance would entomb those working in the tunnel and cut off their air supply resulting in a major rescue operation. More nerve racking still was the possibility that at any time they may run into an enemy countermine. Once sounds of enemy mining were detected or a breakthrough was made it became a life or death race as to which side could destroy the other's gallery first. Using a portable charge known as a camouflet, this would destroy a large section of the enemy tunnel with out breaking through to the surface. Frequently a breakthrough in to a German mine resulted in underground combat with small arms fire. Charges were often discovered laid and ready for detonation and an attempt would be made to remove the charge before it could be fired. This placed a great strain on the part of the man undertaking this task as detection by the enemy meant almost certain death, as they would immediately fire their charge. In many instances the removal of such devices was done with great speed and success and more than a little courage on the part of those involved. Morale was also affected to some degree by the uncoordinated efforts of tunnelling companies in the early stages, which was tactical rather than strategic. This was rectified with the reorganisation of the tunnelling force at the beginning of 1916 and its incorporation into a strategic framework.


The British and commonwealth tunnellers suffered from a problem not found amongst the sappers of the German Army on the Western Front. This problem was a lack of unified command and working practices. On the allied side three national armies, the British, French and Belgian each manned the front with their respective colonial and commonwealth troops. As the war continued into 1916 British and Commonwealth armies began to take over more of the front line to ease the burden of the French *. This brought with it several problems. Up to this point mining on the British side had been conducted through the clay subsoil of the north. They now moved into areas made up of chalk, which required different techniques. The German tunnellers in these areas further south had 'a well-developed mining system on two levels' (14) and therefore held the advantage. Some of the tunnels inherited from the French were in poor condition, made worse by the 'innumerable small charges which had been fired by them' (15). In many instances a new defensive system had to be driven from unfamiliar galleries to greater depths in an attempt to re-dress the balance.


The effects that mining had on the morale of the infantry and tunnellers alike was not a one sided affair. The strain, tension and fear were also felt on the German side and on occasion had greater consequences. Surprise played a significant part in increased demoralisation prior to an assault and greatly aided the attacking force. At all levels nowhere was the surprise more complete than the Messines operation on 7 June 1917. Writing his memoirs shortly after the war General Ludendorff commented on this action. ' . . . All had been quiet, and no sound of underground work on the part of the enemy could be heard at our listening posts. The mines must, therefore, have been in position long before. The morale effect of the explosions was simply staggering. At several points our troops fell back before the onslaught of the enemy infantry' (16). The devastating and decisive effect that this had upon the German forces was such that they were unable to offer any substantial defence against the infantry assault that followed. This can be seen in the number of prisoners taken within the first few hours of the operation, which amounted to some 7,000 with thousands more, killed, wounded or missing. The director of Army Intelligence, Brigadier-General Sir John Charteris, interviewed many of the captured German officers for himself. 'They reported that the mines "so upset their men's nerves that they offered no resistance"' (17). There were also further repercussions for the German geologist engaged in the area. The day following the Messines operation a German General arrived at the Head Quarters of the geologists and was furious that he had not been informed that the enemy had been mining underneath the German mining system. They had informed him previously that mining below their system was impossible and several attempts were made to locate any British galleries that may be in existence. This met with little success and only served to confirm to them that no effective mining system was in place. Following this meeting the General ordered all those over the age of forty to return to Berlin and those under forty he sent to the front (18).


The effects of mining on the morale of the fighting men of both sides maybe seen, not only in the physical aspects that a mine explosion produced, which usually killed or buried (sometimes alive) the occupants of the trench under which it was fired, but more in a psychological sense. The fear of being mined by the enemy was, arguably, out of all proportion to the number of mines fired when compared to the vast quantities of artillery and trench mortar shells that rained down on the respective lines on a daily basis. The fear was of the unknown. Soldiers knew where they were with artillery bombardments. Mines were unseen until the moment of detonation and men were constantly preoccupied that tunnelling was taking place whenever they heard noises beneath them. For British tunnellers the problems were more widespread. In the first instance they were effectively playing catch up as the Germans already had in place a mining organisation and had begun mining on a definite system. Poor equipment and a lack of co-ordinated command resulted in a mainly defensive system during most of 1915 and the tactical, local use of mining in general rather than its strategic use seemed to minimise the huge effort that the tunnelling companies had made. Morale within the tunnelling companies was given a lift with advances in equipment, the organisation of a specific command structure at the beginning of 1916 and its inclusion in strategic objectives in which mining was thought be an important element. They were now in a position to go over to offensive mining.