The next step followed at a very early hour the morning after, when a party of officers boarded a bus outside camp, and long before daylight were deposited outside the Asylum at Ypres. Crossing the now world-famous city, they passed out at the Menin Gate and down the dreaded Menin Road to Hooge, whence they made a general reconnaissance of the country from Bellewarde Ridge over Westhoek Ridge. The situation in the front line seemed a trifle obscure, and those holding it did not altogether cheer their visitors up when discussing the proposed attack. It certainly surprised the said visitors to learn that one group of old gun pits, where they were supposed to assemble for their attack, was being held by the Bosches. This news, however, did not have any serious effect on the scheme, and the following day a party of N.C.O.’s accompanied the Adjutant on a similar reconnaissance. Rain poured in torrents from start to finish, and it is feared that the party, absolutely wet through to the skin, did not display very great enthusiasm for their work that day.
There followed a lecture by the Commanding Officer in the Vancouver Theatre on the coming attack. The Army School lecturer of these days still laboured under the delusion that the assaulting infantry in an attack arrived at the objective in waves, in spite of ditches, water jumps, barbed wire or other obstacles. To hear him talk of the attack it all seemed so easy, that one could only wonder why it had not been done before--preferably by the staff of an Army School.
Colonel Parish, who had been an instructor at the Senior Officers’ School at Aldershot earlier in the year, contrived to instil his optimism into the troops, who entered on the flagged course rehearsals the next day with considerable enthusiasm. Even the two men of “C” Company who were detailed to wade through a marsh, said to exist in No Man’s Land, were heard to joke about their “chances.”
Consequently the troops, although not generally bellicose, were almost eager for the fray, as there was a distinct feeling among them that something big should be done to justify the recent holiday. Thus it came about that members of the Battalion were heard to say that they were looking forward to the battle. This attitude was certainly a novelty, for although there was never a lack of volunteers for any enterprise, however dangerous, nor was there ever any disposition to “swing it” before a battle, it had for a long time been the practice to look askance at any man who claimed to be keen on a fight. The recognised attitude in public circles, both on the part of officers and other ranks, was that of a pacifist. “Live and let live” was claimed as their motto by some of the most zealous soldiers, simply because they hated the idea of being dubbed “fire-eaters,” and often a most gallant fighter would be one who asserted loudly that he was always very “windy,” to use popular parlance, or that there was nothing he dreaded more than going over the top. However, on the occasion referred to, officers and men were more honest, and most, if not all, readily asserted their keenness for the difficult and somewhat complicated form of attack which they were soon to undertake in the neighbourhood of Westhoek Ridge.