Last 100 days on the Western Front

What took them so long?

We know that, privately at least, by the end of September, von Hindenburg and von Ludendorf knew that War was lost. On September 28^th, these senior Marshals of the German Army informed the Kaiser. His comment was ‘Why didn’t you tell me a fortnight ago? Saved us all a lot of trouble.’

Yet over the next five weeks, the First World War continued. There were over a quarter of a million casualties, arguably more. In a more peaceful environment, the influenza epidemic might have been better managed and less deadly. These were not just forces of history which caused the delay. Decisions taken by men (mostly men) delayed the Armistice.

Bulgaria collapsed relatively quickly. The breakthrough battle happened on 15^th September, peace negotiations by the end of the month. A fuller description is in my previous blog. The agony on the Western Front took much longer.

View of the station at Lens, liberated early October 1918. The damage is not so much due to shell fire as to deliberate wrecking, designed to deny any facilities to the Allies. From 'Illustration' magazine. Courtesy MD Wright

We can home in on the highly symbolic Somme Front. What happened there reflected events over the whole of the western Front. The French and AEF were also advancing but our looking glass will be trained so to speak on the Upper Somme. In 1916, during the Battle of the Somme, the British expended much blood and treasure on he objective of Péronne – which they never took. (See earlier blog.) In March and early April 1918, the Germans took all but 60 kilometres – the distance between Péronne and the eastern suburbs of Amiens. They were halted at Villers Bretonneux a few kilometres from the strategic city. (See recent blog).

In July 1918, the Allies moved on to the front foot. On August 8th, they took 10 kilometres (6 ½ miles) of territory in the Péronne direction. Villers Bretonneux and  Amiens were out of danger. Between the 9^th and 29^th August, they advanced a further 15 kilometres to another Villers, this time Villers Carbonnel. There they paused.

Their way to Péronne was barred by the Somme and Canal de Somme. Before them lay the formidable Hindenburg Line which stretched from Péronne north-west to Lens in the department of Pas de Calais. After hard fighting, they were 5 kilometres east by September 6^th. A British, Canadian and ANZAC force reached the gates of the town of St Quentin by September 18^th, but not much beyond until October 9^th.

The truism has been that the Germans traded territory for lives, but in actual fact, they had planned the retreat as a series of strong points. Places in between were given up under relatively little pressure, but centres of resistance were not given up without a desperate fight. These cost many lives, their own as well as those of the Allies.

Map showing Allied advances August to November 1918 on the Western Front east of Amiens. Villers Bretonneux is in the white zone ie never under enemy control. On 29th August, Allies arewithin a shout of Peronne, but don't pass until 6th September. THey slow up at St Quentin and again just beyond. Right central, a bit blurred, in the band of pink liberated on 7th November is La Capelle mentioned below. Illustration courtesy MD Wright

There were reasons why the Allies were able to press home their attack. In spite of news censorship, the Germans had their suspicions about the course of the War. Rumour has a thousand tongues. During the advances in the spring, they saw captured Allied supplies. The contrast between the coarse plenty that the enemy enjoyed and their own shortages was painful. In addition, the Germans were exhausted. They had been reinforced the previous winter, but not since.

On the Allied side, the presence of the million-strong AEF on their right flank was heartening. Most importantly, what enabled them to press forward was a better educated leadership. Old-fashioned ideas of sending men armed with bayonets to face barbed wire and machine guns had finally been replaced. Military intelligence was being used better. Instead of a random bombardment, an advance was being protected by a creeping barrage of artillery. The gunfire crept forward just ahead of the infantry.

Guns were bigger, there were more of them and they were better used.

155mm American Expeditionary Force guns in the field, autumn 1918. This is just one gun battery in support of their infantry but it required a serious supply chain for the huge shells. The AEF had a large field railway service. Photo courtesy MD Wright

The Army had learned to use trench railways to bring ammunition into the field. Military shells were now enormous but the guns never went short. Finally the French and British had learned the lessons that Prosper Péchot had tried to teach. (See previous blogs)

A battered French bogie wagon (Pechot system) with water tanker beyond.Wagons such as these ensured that humans and guns were kept fed. Photo MD Wright

Those contesting St Quentin, inch by painful inch, might have been interested in what was happening at German HQ.

On September 28^th, after they heard the plans for a Bulgarian armistice, Ludendorf and Hindenburg agreed that a general armistice should be sought. They did not approach the Kaiser until the next day. Wilhelm II did as he was told – as he had done for quite a while. He is supposed to have made this comment about his relationship with the two Marshals. ‘From time to time I hear this and that has been done, according to the wishes of those gentlemen’

A disappointing peace was now inevitable. Neither the Marshals nor the Kaiser liked the German Reichstag (Parliament), so their priority was not to stop the bloodshed. They started manoeuvres to ensure that Parliament and a new administration were blamed. Thus it was not until 4^th October that Prince Max of Baden appealed to President Wilson of the USA for an armistice. Wilson did not reply until 14^th October. He reminded the Central Powers that the USA entered the War for ‘the destruction of every arbitrary power anywhere.’

The High Command started an argument which basically continued until November 1^st. This turned out to be rearranging the proverbial deckchairs on the proverbial sinking ship. Was it necessary for the Kaiser to abdicate and if so, in favour of whom?

The generals argue. Photo from' Illustration' Courtesy MD Wright

In the meantime, the bloodshed continued. Between 8^th and 10^th October, the BAC (British, Australian and Canadian) forces sped 15 kilometres east of St Quentin, as far as the valley of the Oise. There the Germans mounted a stiff defence and held them off until October 26^th.

In the meantime, politics seemed to have stalled. The USA may have kept the other Allies informed, but the Germans were still unwilling to approach the French or British. 

In Germany, word of the parley with President Wilson soon got out.  As Edmund Taylor put it, ‘Wilhelm’s abdication was soon the subject of conversations and arguments everywhere, in government offices, drawing rooms, political meetings and streetcars; everywhere but in the press where every mention of it was censored.’ Clearly, no one told the PBI (poor b***** infantry) who continued to slog it out in eastern France.

On 27^th October, the BCA force were east of the Oise river.

On October 28^th, mutiny started in the German Navy. The Fleet had been ordered into the North Sea. The aim had been to help evacuate German soldiers who risked being stranded on Belgian beaches by the rapid Allied advance. Unfortunately for the High Command, the sailors put an unfavourable interpretation on the orders. Rumours abounded; the fleet stayed in port. An example was made of the ring-leaders but this just turned them into martyrs.

On November 1^st, mutiny was all around the ships. By November 4^th, the Red Flag (Russian!) was flying from most of the warships and thousands of sailors were parading the streets of Kiel singing the Marseillaise (French!)

Kurt Eisner

On land, the BCA were making fast progress. From November 5^th to the day of the Armistice, the average distance covered, per day, was 15 kilometres. The Germans came as close as they ever did to trading territory for lives. They still, however, took the time to destroy communications and material as they retreated.

On November 5^th, President Wilson made it clear that Marshal Foch of France had his full approval to represent the Allies in negotiations with Germany.

On November 7^th, Bavaria declared itself a Republic. Its new President was a journalist called Kurt Eisner; his sympathies were firmly socialist. This was really serious! The aim of this new republic was to be free – free of the Wittelsbach dynasty which had ruled them for 700 years but also free of the rest of Germany. German unity was at stake. This seems to have concentrated minds.

At nine that evening, three German staff cars approached Haudroy in Aisne. There is a monument to the Armistice in nearby La Capelle. Each car prominently displayed a white flag. Talks could begin. Within 24 hours, the German government had sent an Armistice Commission to the Forest of Compiègne to meet Marshal Foch and his delegation.

As imagined by Georges Scott, the moment when German cars approached the French near La Capelle on November 7th. 'Illustration' magazine. Courtesy MD Wright

Between 8^th November, when the Armistice was agreed, and the end of the war on 11^th November, thousands more lives were sacrificed. Soldiers continued to die, homes and communications were blown up, people starved, the Spanish flu rampaged through Europe. The story is depressing.

We should not be too angry, looking for someone to blame for all the suffering. What happened a century ago belongs to the past. We may feel some ignoble satisfaction when we find someone to blame, but it doesn’t do much good. Winston Churchill said the following about another disaster. ‘If we open a quarrel between the past and the present, we have lost the future.’ This sounds very noble and oratorical but the attitude has important practical results.

After World War One, there were lots of recriminations on the Allied side, firstly against Germany and then against our own generals. On the German side, among the military at least, there was a more useful spirit. Mistakes were made, certainly, during the last 100 days of the War.  But von Rundstedt, (1875-1953) then a Staff Officer, remarked that many of the successful campaigns of the Second World War were informed by the failures of the First.

In the period between the Wars, British, Australian and Canadian generals were all blamed for not taking better care of theirsoldiers. As they were left ‘out of the loop’ some of this is unfair. General Monash, commander of Australian troops deserves to have a University named after him.

German Brigadelok of he design used in World War 1, sold at the WW1 and lovingly restored. Photographed at Apedale by MD Wright

As for the portable railways designed by Prosper Péchot, they disappeared back into French Army bases. The German equivalents, the rail, wagons and locomotives, were sold off as War Surplus to the victors.

A 16mm Péchot bogie wagon kit

Firstly, we apologise to our loyal customers. The 16mm Baldwin Gas Mechanical model has been delayed for unforeseen personal and technical reasons. We should have some available in the New Year. Apologies again.In the meantime here is a product which is available.

A Péchot bogie wagon kit is your invitation to join the 16mm club

16mm Wrightscale Péchot wagon kit made up. Courtesy MD Wright

You have bought a Wrightscale 16mm Péchot bogie wagon kit and are planning to convert it into a model. The humble original had an important place in the stoy of warfare. This means that you are making history and so you are part of something important. Once you have started creating this wagon, you have joined, if not a party, a movement. Craft is slow, gentle and thought-provoking. It allows you to focus on important issues. Best of all, it reminds you that there are other people out there who are having the same experiences.

Here are some thoughts about our experiences. When designing the kits, Malcolm immersed himself in the history. Where did the distinctive shape come from? Why does a simple push-me-pull-you shape actually contain so many asymmetries? It was part of a series. Why was this called the Péchot system? Why was it also called ‘artillerie 88’? Finally, does the Péchot wagon really matter?

Prosper Péchot (1849-1928) first wrote down his idea for a bogie ‘truck’ in 1882. He had clearly been thinking about it for a while beforehand. His Memorandum to the Ministry of 1882 was clearly very carefully thought out, with appendices and references to supporting work. This included experiments at the Decauville factory.

 This memorandum was his final thesis after his two years of study at Staff College 1880 to 82. It was generally accepted, even by his detractors, that it was a good, thorough piece of work. It was not welcomed at the Ministry, nor by the Génie – French equivalent of the Royal Engineers - because his ideas would cost a lot of money.

Prosper Péchot at retireent age. He has a Légion d'Honneur pinned to his chest. Photo courtesy Raymond Péchot

In the Memorandum, Péchot explained his theory snappily known as ‘the doctrine of multiplication of axles.’ As we know, the more points which support a load, the less each point has to carry. This is why 40-tonne lorries have all those extra axles – basically to save our roads. Unfortunately, all these extra wheels generate extra friction and so the lorries jack them up out of the way whenever the inspectors aren’t looking – and continue to make pot-holes. For a 19^th century French person looking for a way to carry heavy loads on earth or country roads, the friction was less of a problem. More axles were good.

The other part of the problem was how to ‘iron-clad’ bare earth or simple country paths. Prosper Péchot thought that one out too. In 1874-5, Paul Decauville of the Decauville Company started making his fortune with portable track and small carts to run along it. A cart running on light track laid on nothing more promising than muddy soil could carry 200 kilos. When they ran on rail, there was no problem transporting a load where it otherwise it was impossible to push a wheelbarrow. Péchot explored the Decauville ideas. He devised portable track which could support a mass of 3.5 tonnes per axle yes! fifteen times the tare of a Decauville buggy. In theory, just use more axles to carry ever greater mass. Four axles could support a theoretical mass of up to 14 tonnes. In practice, in order to support a 10-tonne wagon on light portable track, a bogie wagon was necessary.

This is a narrow bogie wagon built by Kerr, Stuart Ltd in the early 1890s. The design is symmetrical. Over in France, 10 years previously,  Péchot had shown that one side should not mirror the other. Illustration copyright MD Wright

Another innovation was needed. This was the way to link all these wonderful little axles together.  The bogie or ‘truck’ was already used on standard gauge. In places such as the USA and Festiniog Railway bogies were indeed already used on narrow gauge but they were fairly novel in France. Manufacturers such as Decauville were selling trains of small four-wheelers for use on their light agricultural and industrial railways. Péchot had to innovate here.

A sceptical Army expected to be convinced with the new portable track and bogie wagons but without having to pay for them. Paul Decauville helped out … for a while but by 1884, his patience wore thin. He was spending good money on innovation but receiving no orders in return. From late 1885, the Navy got interested. Then in 1886, the Press got on to the Army’s case. They believed that national security was being compromised. The French nation had paid out billions in today’s money building a string of forts to keep out any invaders. A new introduction, melinite, a precursor of TNT, made these forts obsolete. A dramatic artillery demonstration reduced a fort to rubble in an afternoon.

A typical late 19th century French fort was a hectare in extent, earth-sheltered and needed a garrison of around 600. A chain of them guarded the frontier. Photograph MD Wright

Something had to be done! What if you could move your guns out of the forts? Concealed in the woods and hills nearby, they could blast the enemy so vigorously that the fort itself never came within range. The Army turned back with relief to the ideas of Péchot. Trials in autumn-spring 1887-8 showed that a 60cm railway could rapidly be laid - taking guns out of a fort and up to a vantage for artillery, all in the space of a morning. The job could be done in time for lunch.  The nearest rival to 60cm, metre gauge, could not do this. The Ministry and the Press were convinced. The Army were obliged to follow their political masters.

In summer 1888, 60cm gauge was officially adopted and the 60 cm gauge wagon rolled out. Its official name was artillerie 88 because it was used by the French Artillery service and to mark the date of adoption.

This is the story of the Péchot plate-forme wagon and to us it is important. The more stories we share, the wider our common platform (so to speak). We should also like to argue that a Wrightscale kit offers you the precious gift of difficulty. In a fast-moving world, we need a little touch of slow.  Slick movementtends to drive us apart. Slow movement brings us together.

From instructions for Wrightscale 16mm scale Péchot 5 tonne bogie kit. Parts B and C may look the same but aren't, nor are E and G. Only one end gets N and make sure that Q is the right way up! Drawing courtesy MD Wright

The main difficulty for the model-maker is the lack of symmetry in what, at first glance, seems to be a regular and symmetrical object. You might think the bogie top would be a sort of box-lid. Beware! The bogie ends are not the same! The hangers used for fixing the axles are handed. The couplers are different. Even the safety chains are different and who could have thought that you could two sides to the same length of chain.

There were good reasons for these quirks and difficulties. As you work with them to create your model, you are joining the community of quirk and detail.

We can look more closely at what Péchot was trying to achieve. To create his platform wagon, he had made use of various technical fixes. Many were of his own devising; a number of patents were lodged in his name. The portable track might be laid on fairly rough ground. It often went round tight curves and tackled vertiginous slopes.  The standard 5 tonne bogie was at the heart of the system. It had to be able to carry 5 tonnes, balanced on a toy-like railway, often round the bend and up the wall, all without derailing. Strength had to be found in light-weight materials resulting from up-to-the minute technologies. 10mm steel plate was used, rolled and formed where necessary, steel castings where necessary. Many examples of this robust design have lasted to this day – over 120 years.

Battered, repurposed but serviceable, this Péchot wagon was over 100 years old when photographed. Courtesy MD Wright

At the bogie centre was a complex central casting that accepted the kingpin. This linked the bogie to the carrier above; sometimes a bolster, but more usually a ten tonne wagon body. The casting was held between steel plates and braced to the curved ends of the bogie by steel angle. The ends of these braces were fettled to steel angle that supported the bogie ends.

Another innovation was the draw-gear. Usually, a lightly made narrow gauge wagon would have draw-gear tacked to its end-plate. Péchot draw-gear was pivoted on the central casting through a shock-absorbing volute spring. The draw-gear could turn through a considerable radius – 45 degrees to each side of the centre line – without any sideways strain on the next linked bogie. Where bogies were simply linked through their ends, any sharp turn would risk derailing the next unit. This happened quite a lot on the Festiniog railway. As an intelligent ‘second adopter’ Péchot was determined to learn from their experience.

Besides having standard couplings, the draw-gear was equipped with side chains. This was typical of the belt and braces approach of Péchot design.

The bogie was not symmetrical, only having the compensated draw-gear at one end. The other, the tampon sec, also had draw-gear of a simpler sort which did not have the wide radius of ‘swing’. On occasion, the bogies were used as miniature wagons, pushed by hand. It was useful to make a train of them.

The bogie wheels also benefited from beautiful compensated springing. They could therefore ride out irregularities in height, those humps and bumps which were inevitable where track was roughly and hastily laid.

Best of all, each bogie had bevel-gear screw-brakes which operated on every wheel. The brake-wheel was located above the draw-gear standing well above the bogie platform and clear of the wagon. Alternatively, the brakes could be operated by a low-level handle if for some reason the brake-wheel had to be removed. During the First World War, simplified ‘Decauville 15’ bogie wagons were used; these had only one brake-wheel per wagon.

Wrightscale 16mm scale Péchot bogie wagon kit: stanchion. Seven were fitted per side and one at each end

Another thoughtful touch was found in the axle-box spring. As before mentioned, they were substantial affairs, part of a system of compensated springing. At the outer end of end was a substantial casting. Part of its job was to anchor the end of the spring. It also had a rectangular pocket, carefully orientated. This pocket exactly fitted a stanchion bar – the bars served two purposes. They normally secured the load to the wagon platform but one could also be used as a re-railing bar. Even a Péchot wagon might on occasion jump the track!

Wrightscale 16mm Péchot bogie kit. Back and front of the bogie turntable. The wagon body could rotate freely above.

The wagon body rested on the circular track visible on the bogie top, a sort of mini-turntable. Depending on the state of the track, the wagon body could pivot by means of rollers. The turntable-track was inward-tapere.

Although the Decauville Company had been working on wagon design for nearly twenty years, it took Péchot and his collaborators several years to perfect the design. By the summer of 1886, there were also six-wheeled bogies, each capable of carrying nine tonnes. By 1889, photographs show Péchot supervising Naval exercises where twelve-tonne (four-axle) bogies are in use. Imitation is the sincerist form of flattery. By 1889, the Germans had adopted 60cm gauge, producing their own bogie Brigadewagen and were well on their way to imitating the Péchot-Bourdon locomotive. During world war one, a system which its designer had seen as a weapon of attack had become an invaluable trench supply system for both Allies and Germans.

16mm Péchot bogie wagon made from a Wrightscale kit by Jim Hawkesworth. It is carrying a French gun of the period. Photo courtesy Jim Hawkesworth

The final question is a good one and one that craftivist should be happy to ask. Why bother? Aren’t there lots of other craft movements to join?

Everyone has a personal answer. You will have your own thoughts.

Here are ours. The Péchot system mattered a lot. It is an expression of France of the Belle Epoque, also an expression of individual genius. It is an innovation which had tremendous unintended consequences.

 

60cm and its part in ending the Great War

Armistice comes from two words – arms and stasis – ie the cessation of armed conflict.

The beginning of the end came for the Central Powers in September 1918. On the western front, they were being pushed back mile by mile, kilometre by kilometre but the retreat was in good order. They had carved themselves out an empire in Rumania and the western wheat-lands of what had been the Russian empire. The Allies, even backed by the AEF, could not knock the Germans out on the Western Front. It was on the forgotten south-eastern front that the greatest break-through of the war occurred.

A Bulgarian prisoner shows French and Serbian officers enemy positions below the beetling massif of Dobropolje on the Front Septmebr 1918. Drawing from Illustration courtesy MD Wright

After the disaster of Gallipolli, the Allies formed a new front in Greece. There was a certain logic. Firstly, there was the Serbian army. It had been crushed by Austria early in the War – the assassination of Franz Ferdinand had been the original cause of war. Their fighting forces had regrouped and would enthusiastically join any attempt to regain Serbian territory.

Secondly, Bulgaria joined the Central Powers, enticed by the prospect of new territory in conquered Serbia. The Allies in turn then persuaded Rumania to join them with the incentive of territory in Austria and Bulgaria. The idea of a front in northern Greece was to crush Bulgaria in a pincer movement – Rumania would attack from the north, the Allies with the Greeks from the south. Greece could be supplied from the Mediterranean. Greece had just fought a territorial war with Bulgaria in 1912/13 – it was bound to want to defend its gains. It was sure to join the Allies … wasn’t it?

As it was, the Greeks were reluctant allies. No doubt their stand was highly principled but they must have been influenced by events. At the time, the Allies seemed to be the losing side. In a few months between August 1916 and January 1917, the Germans and Bulgarians pretty well wiped out Rumania. This was an important gain – one of the few oil-fields of Europe and extensive agrarian lands. If the Greeks did not want to become a new Rumania, who could blame them?

That left a French, Serbian and British forces in north-east Greece. The British were to the east, looking across the marshes of the Struma river at the Bulgarians. They made much use of the port of Stavros on the eastern side of the Chalcedon (Khalkedoniki peninsula. The French and Serbians were based at Salonika (modern Thessaloniki) on the western side of this peninsula. Their front ran along the mountainous country between Greece and occupied Serbia (now the-former-Yugoslavian-republic of ?northern Macedonia). The front ran through Albania to the Adriatic. Though the Austrians were in nominal control of Serbia, Bulgarian troops and German advisers were in effect defenders of the whole of this Front.

Portable 60cm track designed by Prosper Pechot and manuafactured by the Decauville Company for the French Army. It could be laid and re-laid quickly. Illustration courtesyJim Hawkesworth

60cm narrow gauge proved vital. Previous entries in this blog have described the importance of the Péchot system/feldbahn/War Department Light Railways for supply duing World War 1. At the time, there was almost no other way to supply an army when it was at a distance from a standard gauge railway or canalised rivers. It was cruelty to use animals, motor transport was just developing and modern air supply a futuristic dream.  Portable narrow gauge track had been developed; an ‘iron road’ could be quickly laid and used by wagons and locomotives.  In 36 days, a 27 km line was constructed between Salonika and the French front.

A number of narrow gauge lines were laid around the military base at Salonica – 40 km (25 miles) at least on the French side alone. The British had to build a light railway right across the Chalcedon Peninsula to connect the two ports. Railways were built for supply, training, hospitals and repair shops.

In the early months, General Sarrail was C-in-C of French forces but he was gradually sidelined by Franchet-d’Esperey, later made Maréchal de France. 

This photo shows a 60cm railway at work behand British lines. It was the only way to take massive shells to the Front. Photo courtesy Roy Link

Once the armies were ascending the mountains, portable railways proved even more useful. Over the next couple of years, the French and Serbs gained ground from the enemy. As the defenders pulled back, they of course destroyed the railways – vital for communication in these mountainous parts. Standard guage track could be re-laid relatively quickly, but the Bulgermans destroyed all bridges and viaducts – of which there were many. It was hard to supply soldiers, let alone the artillery. In the rough country above 2000m (6000+ feet) a mule could carry 2 shells on a two-day journey between railhead and guns.

If the enemy thought that they could stop the French and Serbs, they were mistaken. A railway was pushed through the Krasradere valley, off the Vardar river, in five months. A single train could carry 25 tonnes of ammunition and the guns roared once more. We should note that, under normal conditions, a 60cm gauge train could carry 40 tonnes of supplies. The Péchot system was very versatile.

Monastir (modern Bitola) was an important objective. The standard gauge line had been thoroughly demolished, not least the Ekchisu viaduct – 360m lone and 30m high at the centre (400 yards by nearly 100’). As a quick fix, a 60cm railway was installed. It descended the ravine then climbed painfully up the other side – but it succeded in supplying the army for several months.

The Monastir front was supplied by other 60cm lines, most important of which was the one running westward, towards the beetling massif of Kukuruz (Kozjak). An offensive was planned for the second week of September 1918. The objective was the small town of Rozden and, if all went well, the valley of the Crna river.

French officers inspect a captured Bulgarian strongpoint (casino) September 1918. Magnificent in his kepi, General Franchet d'Esperey stands to the left of the group.From ' Illustration' courtesy MD Wright

The line was still heavily defended. The Bulgarians had the best of German technology and siege-works at their disposal. On the other hand, the Germans had thinned out this Front to shore up the Western Front.

They attacked on 15^th September, and broke the Bulgarian line. Between the 15^th and 21^st September, the French and Serbian army penetrated the line to a depth of 65 km (40 miles). Even better, they had captured a couple of standard gauge railways. Now they were really motoring (so to speak). By September 30^th, they were into the flatlands, with Bulgaria within reach. At this point, the British finally broke out of the lower Struma valley and pushed into the heart of Bulgaria.

There were exciting and heart-breaking scenes. Overhead, the young French airforce flew sorties. Bulgarian troops were caught in the narrow valleys. Excited Serbs raced at last towards Belgrade and home. The British caught an army at the Rupel pass. German advisers, well aware of the dangers of breaking rank, could be seen urgig the Bulgarians back to defensible positions.

Even more important were the politics. On September 25^th, a representative of Bulgarian commander-in-chief appeared before the parliament in Sofia to put the case for an armistice. It took until the 29^th for a ‘field’ armistice to be signed between the Bulgarians and General Franchet d’Esperey and rather longer for him to rein in his over-enthusiastic allies. On October 4^th, Tsar Ferdinand of Bulgaria abdicated in favour of his son Boris who was left with the task of official peace-making. A few days later, Allied forces occupied strategic points within Bulgaria.

Crown Prince Boris of Bulgaria was given the delicate task of concluding peace with the Allies. He preferred to approach Franchet d'Esperey rather than the British or Serbs. Photo courtesy MD Wright

A huge gap had been made in the Central Power enclave. Turkey was virtually cut off. Allied forces could strike up the Danube valley. Germany and Austria had lost their Ukrainian and Russian breadbaskets. The war was unwinnable.

Until events in Bulgaria, German High Command continued to maintain that ‘there is no ground for doubting our victory.’ As before mentioned, German troops were gradually retreating on the Western Front, but they were far from defeated, even by the might of the AEF. On the afternoon of 28^th September, a grey-faced General Ludendorff made his way to the office of Marshal Hindenburg where he informed him that an armistice should be concluded immediately. (Edmond Taylor, quoting from contemporary diaries The Fossil Monarchies pp 426/7)

On September  29^th, they informed the Kaiser. His reply was reputed to be ‘You could have told me all this a fortnight ago’. Like Tsar Ferdinand of Bulgaria, their aim was to conclude the war a/ by manoeuvring to make someone else to take the blame b/ by appealing to the friendliest person available. The objective of reining in the senseless slaughter seemed to be a distant third.

Prince Max of Baden was therefore summoned and more or less ordered to ‘make no difficulty’ for the German High Command. With commendable haste, he and his new government (which included Socialist leaders) got together a message by 4^th October. This was delivered to President Wilson of the USA, bypassing the other Allies. Wilson’s reply was not delivered until 14^th October and this was more about destruction of arbitrary power than about an armistice. In the end, it was not until November 8^th that a German armistice commission met with Marshal Foch – French – in a railway carriage at Compiègne. There an armistice was signed and 11^th November agreed for the cessation of hostilities.

A series of events triggered by the fall of Bulgaria led to the general armistice. Bulgaria was lost because of a small breach in its defences. This breach was made possible through good communications among the Allies. 

The Pechot-Bourdon locomotive was an emblem of French military 60cm railways. It was under a Pechot Bourdon  badge that Franchet d'Esperey made his 1932 speech. Illustration courtesy Raymond Duton

16mm portable railways were vital to these communications. General Franchet d’Esperey was well aware of this: ‘in a pathless country, we relied on Narrow Gauge for our victuals, munitions, evacuation of the wounded and for all our general needs.’ (Speech given at Toul in 1932)

Portable and prefabricated railways of 1918

Soon after the First World War ended, thoughtful engineers took stock of the  railways used on the battlefields of the Western Front. Though there seemed a gulf between the Central Powers and the Allies, their trench supply railways were directly comparable, designed to be quickly installed, to take massive traffic and all to 60cm gauge.  Frank G. Jonah, lately in France in the American Expeditionary Force (AEF) wrote a paper for the American Society of Civil Engineers, New York, March 3^rd 1920. ‘They (German Railways) were extremely well built and had a greater mileage than the French or American armies.’

Friend and foe but compatible. A German D-Lok with tender shares the track with British War Department bogie wagons on this fine 16mm scale model of a World War 1 railway. Photo Jim Hawkesworth

The history of the design went back many years. From about 1870, France, Germany, Great Britain and the USA had portable track available. When Paul Decauville introduced his porteur Decauville, in 1875, it became popular. It could be used in fields, factories and quarries, even archaeological excavations. His jonction hybride was devised to make track-laying, even in the dark, safe and relatively simple. Whichever end of prefabricated track was offered up to existing track, the jonction hybride ensured a fit. Soon, Decauville systems were being sold around the world.

Sections of Decauville portable track ended with one end with fishplates

Between the late 1870s and 1888, Prosper Péchot regularly visited the Decauville factory. He devised the Péchot prefabricated track and new bogies and wagons which could take hitherto unimaginable loads. This Péchot system was formally adopted by the French Army in 1888  

The German Army adopted 60 cm gauge very soon after the French Army did. and started using bogie wagons, just as had the French. Unlike the French Army, they spent the years between 1888 and 1914 improving their Feldbahn system.

By 1918, 60cm railways were widely used on the Werstern Front by all participants, including the British, Canadians, ANZAC troops and the AEF. Prefabricated track was used, especially for rapid, initial lay. This was replaced with rail laid on sleepers as many photographs attest.

The German prefabricated track was as well designed as anyone’s. No doubt after careful examination of the Péchot prefabricated track, they understood that the sleepers (railway ties) performed much better if they enclosed the soil/ballast rather than letting it shoot out under the weight of a train. The manufacturer Paul Decauville refused to cooperate with the Germans and so they designed their own sleeper. It was rather simpler than the elegant box-shape that required the latest in Decauville steam-presses, but it did the job.

In the same way, they did not use the jonction hybride as devised by Decauville. The Germans came up with a rough-and-ready solution which attracted the admiration of Mr Jonah.

A short section of Feldbahn prefabricated track. The standard length was 10m. Picture taken at Apedale Railway, Staffs, by MD Wright

 ‘One end of the 5m section of  built-up (prefabricated) track had a pair of bars with a hooked projection while the other end had the flange of the bars bent up. In laying track, the hooked bar engaged the bent-up flange of the last section.’ 

Link between sections of German prefabricated track. Illustration adapted from Frank  Jonah's illustration. Courtesy Jim Hawkesworth

I do not mean to say that German track was inferior to French. It was different.

These railways, whether French, German, American or British War Department, could be laid with amazing rapidity on unpromising ground, quickly repaired and quickly lifted. Frank Jonah commented:

 ‘The speed with which tracks could be constructed by the different Allied armies was practically the same… A mile of track, including ballasting, required 2,100 man-days of labour.’ All the same, it was much easier to lay short lines over virgin ground than to build long supply lines over ravaged terrain. As we shall see below, some track required even more labour.

In his words, these 60 cm railways were among the chief agencies of transport:

‘The transportation of supplies necessary for the dense concentration of men at the Front could not be accomplished satisfactorily on the highways … therefore orders were given for the development of a comprehensive system of Light Railways for the following primary reasons –

1. To relieve the highways of traffic. In addition to the wear and tear on motor vehicles and the excessive use of gasoline, the wear on the roads was leading to a heavy traffic in road material so that a large part of the traffic hauled …. was to repair the damage which their own traffic was creating. And there was a saving of labour.
2.  To assist in rapid advance over shell-torn area
3.  To convey road material.
4.  To reduce manual labour at the Front.

These lines were developed so completely that eventually nearly all heavy material was transported by Light Railways leaving the highways clear for light fast-moving automobiles, trucks and ambulances.’

In the view of Jonah, the finest section of track built by the AEF was the connection between AEF central at Abainville and the American Front at Sorcy. I mention it, because it took the idea of prefabrication to a whole new level. This was not just lengths of track, it was whole bridges!

A 60cm railway bridge was made from repeats of a section of prefabricated design

Trestles were prefabricated from 5” by 10” road plank. These were used for smaller bridges. For a long span, the approaches were supported on trestles. The central section, two-deck Howe trusses fitted the conditions.  Units were normally of the order of 4 ½ tons. They were lifted into position with a 5 ton locomotive crane.

Bridges were used, not only to cross streams and canals but also standard gauge railways. A completed bridge was kept in reserve at Abainville.Such was the enthusiasm of Frank Jonah, that he designed a counter-weighted lift bridge (think Tower Bridge in London) all in timber.

You may be wondering why the AEF had their main depot so far from the Front. Abainville was chosen because it had ‘ample space for a large yard, with standard gauge rail and canal connections … It was directly behind the St Mihiel and Argonne fronts on which the greater part of the American operations were conducted. Abainville was 35 km (22 miles) back of the line. … Material coming up from the ports was unloaded at the yards and taken to the front as required’

Several interesting engineering problems were presented in its construction. To be sheltered from German long-range guns, it was in rough terrain. As it was near canal and railway connections, these had to be carefully crossed. The light railway had to be reliable. An average speed of construction was 2,460 man-days of labour.

The Germans also had timber bridges. They could be single-deck as one pictured in in the Verdun sector on the German side of the Western Front. My illustration is a detail from a postcard entitled Argonnenwaldbahn (Argonne Forest Railway). These were sold to help the War Effort. It comes from the collection of Raymond Duton.

Detail of a German timber bridge in the Argonne 1917. Photo by Sanwald and Esslingen. Courtesy of Raymond Duton

Timber bridges could be double height as in one near Tilsit (now in the Russian territory of Kaliningrad).

German bridges provided slightly different solutions to the same engineering problem – how to use the triangle as much as possible, without wasting too much timber. They too had repeating units but unlike the AEF, their bridges did not consist of milled 5” by 10” plank. They used timber 'in the round', sometimes not even straight timber.

The Allies gradually learned more about the German railway systems so that, by 1920, Frank G. Jonah was quite an authority about them.

As the summer of 1918 progressed, the Allies captured an increasing share of the territories once behind German lines. With the territories came material, including rail, rolling stock and locomotives of their 60cm Feldbahn system. Once the AEF finally swung into action they fairly hammered the Germans.

The AEF in training 1917-18. Photo from Illustration magazine. Courtesy MD Wright

In the AEF, the Germans were facing a numerous, well-resourced and determined foe. When railways were captured, the Allies put them to work on their own trench systems. They were simply repaying the compliment that the Germans had paid them, using captured equipment.

See more in Colonel Péchot: Tracks to the Trenches – Sarah Wright

Narrow Gauge and Industrial Railway Modelling Review no 66

Heeresfeldbahn der Keiserzeit - Fach and Krall

Narrow Gauge To No Man's Land - Richard Dunn

Recreating the guns of 1918

Several friends attended the Tracks To The Trenches event at the Apedale Light Railway, 13^th to 15^th July 2018. Jim Hawkesworth took excellent photographs of the 60cm gauge gun carrier which was on show and we’d like to celebrate this extraordinary piece of history.

100 years on, a replica eighteen pounder British gun sits on a 60cm gauge carriage at th eApedale Tracks to the Trenches Event September 2018. Photo Jim Hawkesworth

There was a long and intimate relationship between field railways and guns; the extensive 60cm networks of the Western Front were much used by artillery. This link went back many years. After the Franco-Prussian was of 1870-1, the French and German armies both devised railways to get guns into the field. No campaign could wait until a standard gauge railway was built; road vehicles were inadequate at the time. Everyone realised that temporary railways could provide a solution..

The Decauville Company of France had light portable track which they thought could be used for military purposes. Though portable, it proved to be too light. French military engineers proposed metre gauge railways. The Germans, rather more realistically, proposed track of around 70cm gauge.

Prosper Péchot of the French Artillery realised that 60 cm gauge was the ideal compromise between the various existing tracks. He came to this conclusion using mathematics, physics and experiments at the factory of Paul Decauville. Whatever their differences later, the two men united in a profound desire to win the next war against the Germans! Péchot also designed a sleeper for portable track.

The Péchot well-wagon was supported by two heavily sprung bogies. Thus, though over 6m long, it could  ride on rough and highly curved track. The WD F-class wagon mentioned below was heavily influenced by this design. Courtesy Péchot family

Unfortunately, no-one likes to be told that their existing efforts have been wasted and the French military were no exception. There was mess-room warfare between the Engineers and the advocates of the Péchot system. In 1888, Péchot triumphed and within a year 560 kilometres of track was being manufactured. The Germans were watching. Their flirtation with 70 and 75 gauge was rapidly ended; bogie wagons similar in length soon appeared on 60cm track. (Noted: German bogie wagons were lighter in designand, though fit for purpose, few survive today)

Between 1888 and 1918, there were developments. General Peigné devised the affut-truck. This consisted of an adapted and reinforced Péchot well-wagon, with turntable fitted in the well. A gun was mounted on this, either 120 or 155mm, which thus had a field of fire of 360 degrees. For operation, the train had to stop and an apron and stabilisers were swung out. It had an obvious disadvantage. Enemy guns could soon get its range; even if the train went off to safety, the track would suffer from hostile fire. There is more information in Dr Christian Cénac’s excellent book ‘60 centimètres pour ravitailler le Front’  and websites such as:

insomniacque.e-monsite.com or forum.pages14-18.com or Passion et Compassion 1914-19

We fast-forward to 1914-18. Soon after the Western Front was established, both sides were being supplied by 60cm systems.

The French took their guns into the field. They were very proud of the range and accuracy of their 75mm and 155mm (Long) guns, fitted with hydraulic recoil. These could be part-dismantled and taken on Péchot bogies. The Péchot bogie was an engineering wonder, durable and reliable. Quite a few survive today. By 1915, it was clear that the French could never produce enough Péchot bogies and wagons. They went for the lighter and simpler Plate-forme Decauville which was produced in thousands (3000 wagons, 6,500 bogies). There is more information in my book Colonel Péchot: Tracks To The Trenches.

When the British created their War Department Light Railways, they were clearly inspired by Péchot designs. They adopted the bogie wagon running on 60cm gauge rail. A range of wagons were created. There is more information in Colonel Péchot: Tracks To The Trenches, Light Railways of the First World War by WJK Davies and in a series of articles by Peter Foley running from issue 39 to 60 of Narrow Gauge and Industrial Railway Modelling Review.

Indistinguishable from the real thing! Apart from a few early examples most WD wagons, including the gun wagon,  ran on these standardised bogies. These 16mm scale models are produced by Wrightscale 

War Department Light Railways were used to carry guns. Photos such as CO 3807 survive in the Imperial War Museum Collection to prove the point. There are other photographs in the NGIRM Review collection, as seen in Issue 71, page 292, and 79, page 286. Enthusiasts will also like Appendix 1 of Narrow Gauge at War (2) by Keith Taylorson. He makes an important point. Once WDLR railways were up and running, ie from late 1916 onwards, there were field experiments on various ways to carry guns. The photographs in the Appendix show an adaptation of the WDLR F-class wagon being used to transport an Eighteen Pounder and a 6” 26-cwt howitzer. (An 18 pound shell is roughly 8kg. A 6” shell is roughly 150mm in diameter – 26 cwt is very roughly 1.2 tonnes.)

Replica gun wagon seen at Tracks To The Trenches. It is not an adaptation of a standard WD wagon. Photograph courtesy Jim Hawkesworth

A group decided to celebrate these gun wagons by building a replica, designed to take an Eighteen Pounder. This appeared at the Apedale Centenary Event 13-15 July 2018.

The  Imperial War Museum photographs show a complete F-class wagon with stanchions removed and steel troughs slung either side, supported by girders across the body. The Apedale replica consists of two WD bogies supporting channel steel troughs bolted to a custom framework.

End view of replica gun wagon. Photo Jim Hawkesworth

WOT! No authentic wagon butchered for their experiment! To this, there are two answers. Firstly, in 1917-18, as in 2017-18, various experimental gun carriages were built. The ingenious workshop staff used anything to hand. To my mind the gun carriage is very much in the spirit of 100 years ago. Secondly, Tom Porteous, in his article in Review 71, remarks ‘what appears to be shown (in a contemporary photo) is a wagon .. consisting of a purpose-built frame straddling WD bogies.

End detail of replica gun wagon. Photo Jim Hawkesworth

The Apedale wagon design echoes the Porteous research. Cross members in steel channel are supported by the bogie pivots. They are fitted at their ends with hangers which support the gun-wheel troughs. This gives a low centre of gravity, a great advantage. In addition, the wheel channels are the right spacing for the gun. If they had been fitted to the side of an F-class, gun wheel spacing and the wheel-troughs would have been incompatible.

Detail, replica gun wagon. Photo Jim Hawkeswoth

The motive power for the wagon (and water tank) in the picture is a restored ‘Joffre’ 0-6-0 built by Kerr Stuart for the French Army. There was a rush to provide enough motive power for the vast new trench railways. A similar 0-6-0 tank locomotive was built by Decauville in the period. Unfortunately, though similar in design, there were too many differences to ensure that parts were interchangeable. If you haven’t got your metric/Imperial callipers, a quick way to spot the KS Joffre is the ‘American-style’ spark arresting chimney. In addition, unlike the Decauville, the platework of the cab side is level with the driver’s step.

Replica gun wagon sandwiched between a water tank (just seen) and its prime mover, a restored  Kerr Stuart 0-6-0 Joffre tank. Thelocomotive was made for the French Army  but the Allies helped each other out. Photo Jim Hawkesworth

The Germans did not have much use for these gun carriages. They did, however develop almost legendary ‘big guns’

The small but deadly Minenwerfer (trench mortars) could be moved by horse or human power; the field railway was invaluable for keeping them supplied. I say ‘small’ but these trench mortars, at 170mm, were of greater calibre than the French 150mm Long or the British 6” howitzer. These German guns were not as accurate at long range but they were very suitable for lobbing shrapnel and high explosive over no-man’s-land and down into enemy trenches. They had successfully traded volume for accuracy

The Germans tended to keep large guns back from the Front. The greatest were of such a range that they could be parked somewhere convenient, supplied by standard gauge railway. They could then bombard French cities such as Meaux from a safe distance of 50 kilometres or more. The fear was that they might get in range of Paris.

'Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair. Jubilant French and AEF troops gloat over the colossal wreck of a large German gun, possibly 240mm. It has been removed and the emplacement partly destroyed. Photo from Illustration magazine courtesy of MD Wright

In late July 1918, US troops recaptured la Fère en Tardenois, Aisne, dangerously close to Meaux. Hidden in a nearby wood, they found the mountings of one such giant gun. As the AEF advanced, the gun itself had been removed by rail; it could have been a long range 240mm design or 380mm. The 380mm gun had a shorter range than the 240mm but even so this was 50 km.

In the photograph, French and US troops admire the ruins of the huge emplacement. The gun had been mounted on a huge turntable supplied by standard gauge rail. This has been partially destroyed by retreating Germans.

The guns of August 1918

One hundred year ago, the Germans were still on the offensive on the Western Front. I understood why they were confident of victory in spring 1918, but always felt that the summer offensives were a bloody waste. 

Early in 1918, the German Army attacked the Western Front with vigour. Tremendous gains were made; in late March, early April, the were almost able to break the Front in two. British and French soldiers managed, just, to hold the line east of Amiens. This was a tribute to the soldiers involved.

In March 1918, nearly 300 WD locomotives and 2000 wagons had to be destroyed as the Germans advanced. These  models, Baldwin WD tank 4-6-0 loco, WD D-class wagon and WD covered bogie wagon, show the sort of stock destroyed. 16mm scale built by Wrightscale

There was another factor. The Allies were better supplied. The Germans had to bring everything – ammunition, food, even water - and evacuate their wounded over many kilometres of trampled, rutted and bloodstained ground. The Allied defenders were bringing their supplies over a few kilometres of fresh fields.

Both side depended on 60 cm gauge field railways using portable or highly versatile track. In the case of the French, this was a development of artillerie 88, the system that was first adopted in 1888, and was informally known as the système Péchot in honour of Prosper Péchot its original designer.  The Germans had their Feldbahn system, the British, Canadians and ANZACs had developed the War Department Light Railways (WDLR). The American Expeditionary Force (AEF) had their Department of Light Railways. When they retreated towards Amiens, WDLR operators destroyed the material they could not take to stop it from falling into enemy hands. 

Although such railways were versatile, they were more easily laid over fresh ground – undisturbed fields and quiet country lanes.

German prefabricated track came in a range of  lengths. As can be sen, it could be laid quickly, but not on extremely rough ground. Track photographed at Apedale, Staffs. Courtesy MD Wright

The Germans continued their offensives into the summer, trying one section of the Front after another until what had been a relatively smooth frontier became a bulging line of excrescences where territory had been gained at terrible cost.  Yet in July 1918, General Ludendorf planned yet another attack. In German this was known as Friedensturm which we might translate as ‘auspicious storm’.

There was logic to the plan. The French still depended on places fortes – strategic towns which were heavily defended.  One of these, Reims, was almost surrounded. The Germans would smash the enclave, cross the Marne and encircle Paris. The American Expeditionary Force (AEF) building up south-east of Verdun - most celebrated of the places fortes - would threaten the German flank. They would therefore have to be neutralised.

It was a good plan with similarities to the offensive of 1914. The Germans had developed new arms. As well as artillery and Storm Troopers, armed with flame-throwers, the Germans had started to deploy tanks. Therefore the optimists in German High Command thought that this time would be more successful than the last.

Posed propaganda painting by Felix Schwormstadt shows the seated figures of Hindenburg (left), Ludendorf and Kaiser Wilhelm 11. The Kaiser's finger shows the spot where the French Army will be destroyed in July 1918. Picture from 'Illustration' magazine courtesy MD Wright

At dawn on August 15^th, the people of Paris heard the enemy guns. The threat was not far off.

Unfortunately for the Germans, they had lost the element of surprise. A week earlier, rumours of such an attack, emanating from Alsace, reached the French General Staff. More specific information was to reach them on the night of the 14^th. That very  evening, some prisoners gave away the time and place of the German attack. This was not much notice, but the French had just enough time to prepare their own surprise. Most of the Front was evacuated and troops moved back to the second and third line of trenches so that the initial bombardment hurt no-one. A few sturdy volunteers had dug themselves in. Equipped with machine-guns, they gave the Germans the impression that the line of trenches was manned. As the Storm-troopers moved forward towards the second line, they were hit by a terrific bombardment. They took shelter in refuges – old farm buildings – many of which had been booby trapped. The second and third line of trenches had become the new Front and it was almost impossible to break through. The total death toll for both sides was 45,000.

The Germans had slightly more success on their left flank and actually crossed the Marne having gained 75 square kilometres of territory. All they had really gained was a new salient, pressed on three sides by the Allies, broken ground, and hard to supply – all they had was one railway. By July 19^th, they retreated beyond the Marne, leaving valuable equipment, and Paris was safe.

Late in July 1917, a French tank tows away a German gun, abandoned as they retreated. PIcture from 'Illustration' magazine courtesy MD Wright

Why did the attack fail?

One good reason was that the French were learning how to deal with storm-troopers, as we have seen above. Another was the AEF on their east flank. As mentioned in previous blogs, the AEThough the AEF started arriving in France in 1917, their generals had, for the most part kept them back from battle until summer 1918. When faced with fresh armies of fine strapping men, full of the wheat and beef of the US prairies, German soldiers felt more than somewhat discouraged. US soldiers were formidable fighters.

Another reason was given by my dear old Granny who experienced the First World War. ‘The spring offensives of 1918’ she would say, ‘were a big mistake. When the Germans advanced, they saw how well supplied we were. This disheartened them’

She had a point. The Germans had been told by their Government and media that submarine warfare had successfully cut off supplies. The British were starving. The French, having lost territory, were in not much better shape. If things were bad for the Central Powers, they were even worse for the Allies.

This detail from the above picture shows the soldiers marching over a 60cm railway. As they were the same gauge, both sides made use of captured rail. From Illustration magazine courtesy MD Wright

The Spring Offensives gave the lie to these optimistic claims. Time and again, when the Germans occupied enemy trenches, they found supplies aplenty. Admittedly, the food was very dull. Dear old Granny could still remember the tins of ‘Maconochie’, containing tasteless stew and staple diet of the British Army. Also part of the ration was plum and apple jam – usually ‘spooned’ out of the tin with a bayonet, tasteless, perhaps, but full of calories.

The ordinary German soldier realised that he was being fed, not with proper food but with propaganda. The Allies were not starving. One comment about the German diet in 1918 says it all. They gave the world the word ersatz which we still use to describe fake and substitute food.

This may explain why the German prisoners started co-operating. Up until 1918, German military intelligence had been, like so much else, superior to that of the Allies. They could obtain information from prisoners without using undue pressure. The Allies, especially the British, were not so successful. By summer 1918, the soldiers who were captured may not have been quite as discreet as they had been earlier in the war. This might explain why vague Intelligence was leaked to the French from the Alsace area, and why the vital Intelligence was gathered on the night of July 14th.

Ordinary Germans knew the game was up. Their superiors, who ought to have known better, were prolonging the agony. What a pity that the slaughter went on until November 1918.