Exploding like clockwork
It is always interesting to look at photographs from WW1 beside images from Afghanistan, but this case suggests the truth of the old saying, "some things never change".
The WW1 photograph above was taken following the retreat of German forces from the French village they so recently occupied. In keeping with a practice typical of the time, explosive booby traps were often rigged for unwary allied troops coming through afterwards. Here an unknown Australian soldier thoughtfully inspects what could literally be a "time bomb". The Germans showed great ingenuity in designing devices which would ensure triggering by attaching the trigger to something which an unknowing victim would either want or need to physically touch and remove.
In his oral history interview, WW1 veteran Bill Richardson of the 48th Battalion describes the sinister rigging of a river crossing :
… See, we were on the Somme. And there was a tributary or whatever they call it, a little river running off the main river called the Ancre. And we had to cross this here River Ancre and they had a big wooden bridge on it. ..Down alongside the bridge there’s a bit of a swamp and there’s a dead German laying on there with a bit of fencing wire round his body. Lying on this swamp. So anyhow, we done our battle, and [came] back again. And word come through afterwards a lot of our soldiers got killed on this here bridge. It was blown up. ..What happened, they had a wire on this German. When they pulled the wire, it set the trigger off. You see, they went to draw him out and bury him and he had it all mined, the bridge was mined. And a lot of our soldiers happened to be on the bridge at the time, moving off, and they were killed.
Hear the entire interview here
[from : Bill Richardson, as a member of 48th Battalion, First World War 1916-1919, interviewed by Mr Roger Davis, Part 2 of 2, time code 00.04-02.34. ]
This photograph shows a bridge of planks placed across the River Ancre, typical of Australian engineers' bridge work of the time. This particular bridge was used by the 6th Infantry Brigade in their attack of 19 May 1918. The bridge, often raked by enemy machine gun fire, was eventually destroyed by enemy shellfire.
The practice of leaving tricks and traps was not restricted to any one army; for example, the Australians left traps for the Turks in the trenches of Gallipoli. While Charles Bean, official Australian war historian, thought it cruel, he also counted it as a legitimate practice in war; it generated anxiety in the enemy, and forced them to slow their pursuit.
The use of hidden explosive devices in warfare is unrestricted by time and place, continuing to this day. As seen in recent years the “IED” (Improvised Explosive Device), put to frequent use by Taliban operating in Afghanistan, has become almost a household word. This photograph, taken during an IED familiarisation training program with Australian Defence Force personnel, shows examples of the Taliban bomb maker’s trade:
IED components are typically ordinary or household items, and may deliberately be attached to interesting objects to attract an unwary passer-by and so invite them to trigger the device, just as German booby traps on the Western Front did. Note the small, pale green, alarm clock, shaped to represent a mosque, which was probably intended for use as a timing device.
But while on the subject of clocks, it is clear that some things have changed since 1915. We are pretty sure that no army today would carry one of these into the battlefield!
"When the 27th Battalion was in camp at Mitcham, the men received a present: which has proved of the utmost value to them - an eight-day clock from Messrs. Perryman & Co., of King William street. The timepiece is boldly showing its face to the Turks at Gallipoli, as Staff-Armourer Sgt. H.A. Miller, of the 27th Battalion, relates in a letter sent to Adelaide: '... the clock went in the steamer to Port Suez, and later ... went with the battalion to Anzac. A mule conveyed it to Taylor's Gully, where it was transferred to another four footed transport, and found a final resting place on 'Chester Ridge.' I have now got the clock hanging from the haft of a bayonet driven well into the ground in the sap lending to our trenches. It is keeping splendid time, in spite of its rough usage.'
The fate of the clock was reported in an interview with Lieutenant-Colonel Dollman entitled "The Wanderings of a Clock" in The Advertiser on Thursday 1 February 1917: "Visitors came and gazed in wonder that such a mark of civilised life should have been set up at such a place, and some war correspondents photographed it and published it in an English newspaper and called it the 'Big Ben of the Peninsula.'..."
[read the full caption]