It’s the 16th of May 1915.
In the trenches of northern France,
the 1st battalion of Highland Light infantry of the British army wait anxiously against the parapet,
the rhythmic thunder of allied artillery is pounding the enemy lines,
like a ticking clock it counts down the seconds to their demise.
The explosions stop.
Silence.
A whistle is blown.
Each man feels the dread in their stomach but they stand up and go over the top.
They run through no man’s land.
The whistle fading into the distance as its replaced by the deafening roar of enemy machineguns.
The zip of scorching hot lead is heard…
by the living.
But bullets also hit their mark and men fall into the mud without hearing a thing.
Barbed wire claws but enough brave highlanders make it to the enemy trench.
The fight is brutal.
The Highlanders know there can be only one winner today.
And they take the trench from the Germans.
At least a section of it.
Barricades are set up inside the trench and the fight continues…
The Highlanders find themselves isolated in a 200-yard long section of enemy trench,
cut off from reinforcements by 250 yards of no man’s land.
As night comes in the Indian 15th Ludhiana Sikhs make the daring crossing to reinforce their British comrades
and now over 120 soldiers are in the German trench.
Two days pass.
And the highlanders and the sikhs are standing firm.
But on the morning of May 18th the Germans bring fresh reinforcements.
The brutal fight drags on throughout the morning.
At this rate the ammunition won’t last until nightfall.
Desperate, they send 15 men to rush back through no man’s land for more grenades.
Back across no man’s land,
watching from the British trenches is Bombing Officer of the 15th Ludhiana Sikhs Lieutenant John “Jackie” Smyth.
A cheer of encouragement is shouted to the 15 men as they make their way towards Smyth and his Sikhs…..
As the brave souls dash into the open field
the cheering makes way to somber silence as each and everyone is cut down by the Germans.
Not one even makes it halfway.
The British commanding officer Captain Hyde-Gates
orders a group of 20 soldiers to charge across no man’s land with supplies to help the trapped men.
Once again Smyth and his Sikhs watch as the men bravely throw themselves into the danger.
Willing them to succeed…
but again…
none make it through.
The Germans are determined to stop any help being given.
Hyde-Gates calls - Smyth
“Do you think you could do it?”
Smyth bluntly refuses.
“No, I’ve just seen two groups try and they were all killed, I don’t see why we should be any better.”
For Gates that’s it, if his best man refuses then no one gonna go at all.
He reports the situation to command.
But Gates is told in no uncertain terms.
“Progress must be held at all costs! Send more men, that’s an order!”
- the commander screams before slamming the phone down.
With a heavy heart, Gates calls Smyth again.
He is almost in tears as he tells the young officer that he must perform the crossing.
It’s certain death.
With the orders Smyth gathers the entirety of the 4th company, over 115 men,
and asks them if any can see fit to volunteer for the extremely dangerous mission.
The men look at one another.
They know what's being asked of them.
But every single man steps forward.
Smyth looks at them all solemnly…
he would later say:
“The proudest moment of my life was when every man said he wanted to go.”
He hurriedly selects 10 of the volunteers.
The 11 men force heads to the front trench with 2 crates of 48 grenades each.
And so, at 3pm the 11 men jump over the parapet.
They drop into a ruined exploratory trench reaching out a dozen or so yards into no man’s land.
It’s wrecked,
days and nights of artillery bombardment have reduced it to little more than a 3 feet deep groove on the land,
but it’s just enough for them to crawl through, shielded from the bullets and shell fragments flying overhead.
But the groove quickly comes to an end.
Smyth looks at the soldier next to him, both steeling themselves for what’s to come.
They tighten their grip on the ropes and go.
They lurch into the fray and fall into a crater.
The two men look at each other in shock, they check over themselves in disbelief,
not a single bullet or shrapnel had struck them.
They shake out of it and pull their crate the rest of the way before calling to the other men.
One by one they each make the jump,
taking advantage of the massive plumes of dirt and mud thrown into the air by the artillery strikes.
Eventually every single one of the 11 make the leap, and all of them make it this far unharmed.
20 yards down,
230 to go.
And so, they keep going, jumping from cover to cover.
Smyth has his eyes on a stream that cuts through the middle of no man’s land.
Its high banks will be their savior if they can reach it.
Smyth looks back, patiently waiting for his men.
2 Sepoys prepare to jump towards him.
1… 2… 3! Go!
They dash out of cover, but just as they run a shell strikes near them and both Sepoys fall lifeless into the mud.
9 remain.
They keep moving, the stream is so close, just a few more jumps.
A shell falls ahead and a giant plume of dirt rises into the air once more,
Smyth orders to move under the cover of the dust.
He makes it to the next cover, but the dirt falls quicker than expected, exposing 2 more sikhs to the enemies’ sights.
They fall, never to rise.
7 remain.
They lurch towards the stream now, falling into the waist-deep water.
They keep moving, hugging the river bank for protection,
but straight ahead they can see a section of trench and a flash shines from the parapet.
A storm of bullets tears through the men, Smyth hugs the wall as bullets strike all around him.
It stops as abruptly as it started, and Smyth turns around to see his compatriots.
A shocked but untouched Sepoy named Lal Singh stares back at him, surrounded by the bodies of 3 sikhs.
2 more lie against the wall, both bleeding profusely.
Just 2 remain.
The river takes them mere yards away from their goal,
but completely exposed and right in the face of the German trench
these will be the toughest yards of them all.
Smyth takes a peek, he can see his compatriots in the trench, their attention square on the enemy trench on the other side.
He shouts at them.
Present among them is the trench commander and Smyth instructs him to open fire
with every rifle they have at the count of 10.
Smyth and Lal Singh brace for the final jump, crate in hand, as they hear the countdown.
3.
2.
1.
FIRE!
The men in the trench unleash all their guns against the Germans
and the two survivors under cover run.
The Germans are focused on the soldiers firing and are too late to react,
Smyth and Lal unceremoniously drop into the trench into safety.
The firing stops and the men cheer, hailing the two as the heroes they are.
The 48 grenades are instantly put to work,
the men throwing them over the barricades to dissuade any would-be assailants.
The grenades were enough to get the besieged men to nightfall when further resupply was provided.
Under the cover of nightfall Smyth made it back to his trench.
There waiting for him on the parapet was his orderly – Ishar Singh.
Despite Smyth’s death being reported long before.
Ishar continue to sit and waited patiently,
certain in the knowledge that his commanding officer would return.
Standing up.
Ishar saluted and sang out loudly and proudly the sikh war cry.
Lieutenant John Smyth would be awarded the Victoria Cross for his actions on that day.
When talking about the events he said
"What kept me going was the courage of my men...
I gave them leadership, and they gave me support.
I wouldn't have dared to go back even if i wanted to with them treading on my heels"
He peacefully passed away in his home in Marylebone, London on the 26th of April 1983, aged 89.
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