KING GEORGE'S HILL

Dominion, Volume 10, Issue 2928, 14 November 1916, Page 4

KING GEORGE'S HILL

WHERE LIE OUR HONOURED DEAD

A BATTLE-FIELD SCENE

(From Malcolm Ross, Official War Correspondent with tho N.Z, Forces.) N.Z. Camp, September 14. Yesterday I walked with two friends to tho slopes where men of two New Zealand brigades are bivouacked. There wo found them varying drill with football, and fraternising with the men of the English regiments. All soldiers of tho Empire, English, Scotch, Irish, Welsh, or from overseas, aro one great happy family. They had proved one another on the battlefield, and they know each other's worth. Passing on from the New Zealand bivouac ground, we descended past other camps into a shallow valley, and climbed the slope leading to what is now known as King George's Hill. It was a fitting place to which a New Zealander might make a pilgrimage, for it was a very strong and commanding point in the German line, and one where much British blood was shed, and not shed in vain. The battered trenches, the shell-pocked No Man's Land, yawning mine-craters, cut and tangled wire, a broken redoubt, tho rusty iron of exploded and unexploded shells, the cases of shrapnel, the common grave of offioers and men, and some of the more ghastly relics of war without their reliquary—all told their tale of stubborn, strenuous fighting. The place must havo been a regular fortress, and the labour that had been spent to make it secure was at least a compliment to German industry.

The Rose of Lancaster. This was tho spot that the King of .England visited tic other daj, and it was from this visit no doubt that the lull takes it present name. There are no high hills and no peaks on the Sonime battlefield.' Tho country is gently undulating, like the Sussex downs. There is nothing quite like iit anywhero in New Zealand, for the slopes aro all gentle, and there is not a mountain in sight' anywhere. It is ideal country for cavalry,, if they can get through, and I believe they will get through. At the Apex of tho jumble of broken trenches and sand-bagged redoubt that crown the summit of the round ridgb thero is a signboard conveying the intimation that this is King George's Hill. And in one corner of tho board is tho red rose of Lancaster, for here the red blood of the men, of Lancaster dyed tho soil. The board is 6cored with tho names of countless Tommies. One name is written over another, and they are even carved on tho lettering. ■ Near by are some of tho extraordinary German dugouts, heavily timbered and going down into the bowels of tho earth in a flight of steep steps. They aro now darksome, noisome dens. I counted tliirty steps leading down into the innermost recesses of one. In the chambers at tho end! of it the garments of the former inhabitants were being trodden in the soft clay. On tho clay shelves thero were still bottles. And at the very end, in a recumbent attitude, and bayoneted in the chest, was the remains of a .dead German, revealed by tho light of an electric torch in all its ghastly hidcousnoss. He was a bravo man who went down into the darknes san the unknown to accomplish that deed. One hurried away from tho terrible sight and tho fotid air, and gained again the'light of day with great satisfaction. Thero wore other similar dugouts, with floors a foot deep in stagnant water, and some with torn and charred entrances, clear indication of the firry of our shell fire. Where the Heroes Lie. Not fifty yards away was another sign—a cross—and on it this inscription:— IN MEMORY of the OFFICERS, N. 0.0 'S, AND MEN of the 20th S. MANCHESTER REGIMENT WHO FELL •■. ■■ JULY Ist, 1916. "They rest from their Labours and their works d 6 follow them." Oh tho dato mentioned and' the following days I had watched not far away tho battle that drove the Germans back from this strong line, but 1 do not know the story of this redoubt. Yet on another board beside the wooden 'cross one could read a bit of the tale. Ii! bore the names of tho colonel and officers of tho regiment who fell here:—'

Lieut.-Col. H. Lewis. Gapt. G. 15. Sayce, Capt. 1) AV. Smith, 11.A.M.C, Sub-Lieut. J. W. Eaton. Sub-Lieut. H. 0. Lord. Sub-Lieut. T. Kemp. S'ub-Lieut. I<\ S. Brooks. Sub-Lieut. F. Boss.

Awl at the foot of the cross was a beaded wreath of flowers, "In aft'ectionato memory of Frank." It was from his parents, sisters, and brothers in their Cheshire home. We took a last look around the rolling downs and broken woods of tho battlefield 1 , watched for a few minutes our shells bursting on the German trenches, and the Gorman shells bursting on our linse, and .then turned upon our homeward way. But one romark was made. It came from the young New Zealandcr at my side: "What finer burying place could any man wish?"