March 7th, 1918. The Imperial German forces have begun to amass for a great Sprig offensive. For the first time in two years, the Germans outnumber the Allied troops that face them in the front lines. There are sufficient machine guns and grenades to support a massive assault. The American forces have not yet been deployed in significant numbers. The high command issues an order to conduct a raid on the Allied lines. It is to be carried out at 17:30 sharp.
The Allies inflicted a routine artillery barrage on our lines during the afternoon. The trenches were moderately damaged, and we suffered several casualties before the sun began to set. Gunther Jung suffered a wound to his back and was evacuated to a field hospital. Wolfgang Zimmermann caught a small splinter of shrapnel in his mouth, splitting his lip and breaking his right wisdom tooth. Despite his wounds, 'Dachs' insisted on remaining with his Kameraden. Johann Emerich fell victim to a bout of dysentery and was sent back with the stretcher teams. Overall, the moral of our men remained high as evening approached.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the men left their dugouts and assembled in the front lines. I made sure that all the Soldaten in my Gruppe, volunteers from the 3rd Komp. of I.R. 23, had sufficient grenades and ammuntion. The tension just before the embarkation was intense. Nobody knew what to expect from our Allied counterparts.
Finally, at 17:30 the signal was given. We climbed up out of our trenches quietly. No whistles wre blown and nobody made a sound as we entered No-Man's-Land. Suprisingly there was no sign of activity on the Allied lines. Apparently, our opposition thought that they had pounded the life out of us with their afternoon barrage. They were not expecting us. As we rapidly approached their wire, we threw smoke grenades to create a screen, and simultaneously charged a section of trenches held by the French. Our advance was swift and orderly. We were at their parapet before they fired a single shot. All of a sudden, all hell broke loose as the Allies became aware of our presence. The initial elements of our raiding force, a Stosstruppen detachment of the 6th Pioneer Battalion, engaged in heavy hand-to-hand fighting. When my Gruppe descended into the trenches, the bodies of the dead and wounded already clogged the narrow passages. The Stosstruppen were pushing their way along Allied lines to our right and we were signaled to support the assault. Our push was halted temporarily at a a point where the trench was blocked by a rampart. The Canadians suffered from prolific confusion in their lines, as Germans infiltrated the surrounding trenches and smoke limited visibility to several meters. My Gruppe forced its way deeper into the Canadian position. Flares illuminated the smoke and shadowy figures darted around us. One could hear the screams of men mixed with the exchange of small arms fire, and occasional grenade blasts. As we rounded a narrow corner of the trench line, we suprised a group of Canadians. We immediately lunged at them with our trench knives. A terrible scuffle ensued. As I disabled one of them with my knife, I felt a sharp blow to my head. Everything went dark. The next thing I knew, I was lying at the bottom of a trench, staring into the smoke filled sky. Somebody helped me to my feet, and led me back to our lines. Once I had returned to the safety of our trenches, I was able to get some food and water, and recover from my ordeal.
As I regained my senses, the raid escalated into a full blown assault as Allied counterattacks intensified and territory changed hands several times during the night. Finally, I felt strong enough to rejoin my Gruppe. I proceeded back across No-Man's-Land with some re-inforcements to the Allied lines. At appoximately 3:00 on Sunday morning, it seemed we had a strong hold on the salient. Allied resistance was minimal, but our men were now becoming exhausted and we had suffered many casualties. We had inflicted serious damage on the Allies that evening, but the coming morning would bring a massive counterattack. The order was given to withdraw back to our lines.
Geftr. A. Minnich, I.R. 23
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