THE YPRES TIMES
233
Extracts from Brigadier-General Ludlow's Diary.
yth September, 1917.
I HAVE been wanting to go to Ypres for a long time, but it is such a storm
centre that neither Brigadier-General Newton nor I thought we were justified
in taking too much risk. particularly as it was not our business to go there,
no one being allowecT in Ypres under any circumstances except on duty.
We calculated that when the battle of the Menin Road was going on that the
Hun would be too fully employed in the daytime to make things very unhealthy
at Ypres, and.our surmise proved correct.
Yesterday we were with our last line of heavy guns, and I felt sure we should
be able to get through all right. It was regarded as a forbidden city, and we were
consumed by curiosity, the spirit of adventure and a small spice of danger, to
get there.
Of course we took our gas masks and tin hats, and had a lovely canter across
country, a desolate overgrown waste full of dug-outs, horse lines, ammunition
and store dumps.
It was very hot, with a lovely blue sky and white fleecy clouds. As we came
to the long line of observation balloons, near to us we saw a dense column of
smoke from a burning farmstead.
The farm we made for was a miniature fortress, and we decided to walk into
Ypres, a mile distant, as one does not know what to do with a horse when there
is no cover, and you feel you can't leave your orderly to "stick it without you
do the same.
We started off via Belgian Chateau, and arrived just as a bombardment ceased,
as it was an important headquarters and over 100 shells had fallen that morning.
The Hun does not shell the roads much by day, but confines himself to
crossings, so as to save ammunition.
We decided to stick to the road and take our chance. The traffic in the
direction of Ypres was tremendous, but the Menin Gate was avoided by an
alternative route outside the city.
Through the suburb of Kruisstraat; here the houses were completely gutted.
A temporary wooden bridge spanned the Yser Canal, now only a big deep ditch
with stagnant pools of water and tall grass and rushes.
The Gasworks on our right as we entered the town were one mass of tangled
ironwork.
Now the Hun's big guns began to play and our own 8 in. and 9 in. reply,
making a deafening roar behind us, and while they were firing conversation was
out of the question.
It was fascinating to watch the heaps of masonry and clouds of dust go up
whenever a Hun shell exploded, but quite a number of them were duds.
Every house on either side of the roads was smashed, and all the beautiful
tree-lined boulevards were mere blackened stumps.
We crossed four lines of rails all grass-grown. The lamp-posts and electric
light stands hung in festoons of rusty ironwork and wire and the Railway Station
completely riddled with shells.
