Gas Attack - St. Julien 24th May 1915

This account of a gas attack comes from the Kildare Observer 10th July 1915. It was given by Private James Rogers of the Royal Dublin Fusiliers. He mentions St Johns which is probably St Julien . According to the Royal Dublin Fusiliers Association:

“The German gas attack in the early hours of May 24, was described as being about three miles long and forty feet deep. The Allied troops in the trenches had little hope of escape. The 2nd Battalion of the Royal Dublin Fusiliers were serving at the front that night. The gas bleached the grass, blighted the trees and left a 'broad scar of destruction in its wake'.”

Although this was a month later than the First Attack on April 22nd, it is an interesting account of life at the front.

“as I listened to the tale of horror, of valour and of suffering, told in simple yet vivid language with Private James Rogers, of the Royal Dublin Fusiliers, unfolded to me. Private Rogers, who is yet little more than a boy, thought he has experienced more of the stern realities of life than fall to the lot of even the most adventurous amongst us in a long lifetime during the "piping time of peace", is son of Mr. John Rogers, Millbrook, Naas, and has seen five and a half years' service with the "Dubs", four and a half with the third battalion since mobilisation in August last. He looks none the worse for his six months in the firing line. Private Rogers has been on a short furlough with his parents in Millbrook after his recovery from the effects of the wound for which he was sent from the front. He has now gone to join his regiment with the prospect of further thrills before him, from which, let us hope, he will return unscathed.”


“We were next moved to reinforce the Cheshire’s in the trenches. There we remained for about ten days, after which we were shifted to St. John. That was on Whit Monday and here the toughest time began. About 5 o'clock we were saluted with gas from the Germans. The first thing I have any clear recollection of in the excitement was a shout of THE GAS! THE GAS! and it was upon us. A lot of our fellows got badly choked by it, but I was not much affected by it at all. After giving up the gas they began to shell us with high explosives. Part of our fellows on our right had retired, thus leaving our right flank exposed. Most of our officers had been knocked over by the gas and shells and either killed or wounded. A Scottish regiment came up to reinforce us about 8 o'clock, but they were gassed and had to retire. All our officers and non-commissioned officers had been knocked over except Lieut. Shanks, who was in charge of what was left of us. We held the position until about 11 o'clock, where there were ONLY SIX OR SEVEN OF US LEFT. The remainder had all been killed or wounded. When the "Jocks" (as we call the Scottish regiments out there) retired it was a matter of looking out for ourselves. Our right and left flanks were gone. We were told that reinforcements were coming up to us, and I said to the few that was left that we should try and hold on until they arrived. A little later four of the six left stole away to look out for themselves, and they got away. There were then ONLY TWO OF US LEFT, myself and a fellow named Andrews, a Dublin chap. We though we had better try to make a rush to get back to headquarters. The very minute we got out of the trench they turned a machine gun on us, but we managed to cover a bit of ground unhurt, and got to about 100 yards behind the reserve trenches, which were unoccupied at this time. The bullets were flying all about us. They tore through my coat and shirt just under the left arm. I had this (producing a Queen Mary Xmas present box) in the pocket on the left side of my tunic, and that must have saved my life. It was full of fags at the time. A bullet struck it, and going through the cover, glanced off the bottom of the box. (The box itself bore evidence of the valuable service it had done Pte. Rogers). The bullets kept on flying and whistling around us, and then I found myself hit in the left arm. I felt the blood running down my sleeve, but in the excitement I did not mind much. Just then Andrews got shot in the wrist and I WENT TO BANDAGE HIM. We lay down in a ditch, which gave us a bit of cover and every time we tried to get up the machine gun opened fire on us. We thought our best chance was to lie there for a while. We lay down in the ditch for a while, but the other fellow could not "stick" it any longer, and said he would have to go to headquarters. He stood up and made a run for it. I waited, lying down, until he had time to get clear (and I found he got safely to headquarters) and then I made a bolt for it. I saw there was a little more cover in a ditch on the other side of the road and thought I would make for that side. They cut the GROUND FROM UNDER MY FEET as I crossed the road, but I got into the drain all right, and crept back to headquarters. The first men I saw when I got there were Captain Leahy and Captain Magan.

"We had sent word down for reinforcements and a message came back from Col. Loveband to hold on a little longer, that the reinforcements were coming. The Colonel was in a "dug out" near headquarters. The "Jocks" told us the Warwicks were coming to our aid, and to try and hold out.

That was the last message we had from Colonel Loveband, and it was at about 8 o'clock in the morning, as I came back to headquarters past the "dug out" I saw a man lying near the trench. I thought I knew the boots - a sort of highlaced boots. I went over and found there was a coat over the man's face. I lifted it off and saw it was the BODY OF COLONEL LOVEBAND. He had, as far as I could make out, been shot through the lip, just at the bottom of the nose. I looked at the wound and saw the bullet had gone through the back of his head. He was evidently anxious about us - to see how we were getting on without the reinforcements and wanted to have a look. He came out of the trench and was evidently got by a sniper. His face when I saw him dead seemed as if he was laughing - a sort of smile on his features.

"When I got to hospital I was like a ragman - my clothes flittered by bullets".