AT 6.30 this morning while most of the country was still a-bed, Scotland began the sonorous duty of commemorating its greatest battle of the First World War. Fittingly, the service took place in the sombre confines of the Wellington Carriere, the underground museum in Arras, the northern French town which gave its name to the battle being commemorated today. Wellington has nothing to do with the famous duke but everything to do with the capital of New Zealand because many of the engineers who turned the existing quarry into a network of offensive tunnels were Kiwis and their efforts produced the physical conditions which allowed the assault battalions to get to their jumping off points without being seen by the Germans, thereby achieving complete surprise. Their labours also gave New Zealand a claim to this attractive and historic town.

Canadians were present in strength in Arras today to commemorate the feat of their army corps in taking the hitherto impregnable Vimy Ridge to the north-east; the South Africans also have a stake in the occasion as one of their brigades served under the command of the all-conquering 9th Scottish Division but if ever a place on the Western Front deserves to be called a Scottish battlefield it is Arras. Three Scottish infantry divisions took part in the assault, 9th, 15th and 51st (Highland) – and of the 120 participating British infantry battalions, 44 were from Scottish regiments including five battalions from two England-based territorial regiments, the London Scottish and the Tyneside Scottish. Taking into account the probability that many of those soldiers were neither Scottish-born nor of Scottish descent, there is every reason to believe John Buchan’s claim that the force was seven times larger than the estimated 6,000-plus in Robert Bruce’s army which had fought at Bannockburn in 1314. Add on the Canadian regiments with Scottish titles or affiliations and Arras is an exemplar for the enthusiastic and committed way in which Scotland responded to Britain’s call to arms during the First World War. (Conscription was introduced in May 1916 and it's likely that some of the soldiers at Arras would have been conscripts but the bulk would have been Kitchener volunteers from the previous two years.)

Even the soldiers’ sense of humour frequently had a dry Caledonian tang. At the height of the battle during a particularly ferocious German artillery bombardment, an officer in the 51st Highland Division heard one of his sergeants encouraging his frightened men with the far from optimistic words: “Great God a-michty, ye canna a’ be killed.”

Given the presence of so many Scots who formed some 35 per cent of the British and Dominion Third Army under the overall command of General Sir Edmund Allenby, it stands to reason that the Scottish casualty figures would have been high and so it proved. Of the 159,000 who became casualties at Arras (killed, wounded and missing) some 18,000 would have been Scots, a figure which Highland Division historian and former SNP MSP Colin Campbell wryly calls an “over-representation” compared to other parts of the United Kingdom.

It is therefore appropriate that Scotland should be taking such a key role in today’s events. Following the French-led commemoration at the Wellington Carriere there will be a service at the imposing Faubourg d’Amiens Commonwealth War Grave Cemetery which will be conducted by The Rt Revd Dr Russell Barr, Moderator of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland whose call to worship will be Walter Chalmers Smith’s inspiring hymn, Immortal, Invisible, God Only Wise. The service will also include readings by schoolchildren from France, Canada and Scotland and among those attending will be the First Minister Nicola Sturgeon. The long day will be rounded off in the magnificent setting of Le Place des Heros where the band of The Royal Regiment of Scotland will beat retreat and no doubt set hearts a-beating with the precision and spectacle of their display.

As ever with such ceremonial occasions there is a huge gulf between what was then and what is now. The square is hemmed by magnificent Flemish buildings whose facades speak volumes about the history of Arras and the wealth that was once generated by the markets held in the city centre, but this is a place that has also been touched continually by war throughout its long history. One hundred years ago, when Allenby’s army went into action in dreadful weather conditions, wind and rain turning to snow, they were following in the footsteps of countless other soldiers who regarded the lowlands of northern France and Flanders as a natural battleground and whose place names adorn many a regimental colour.

At Eastertide in 1917 – the battle began on Easter Monday – the allies had high hopes of a breakthrough. Although Arras was considered a subsidiary battle to support a larger offensive mounted by the French on the Aisne it was hoped that it would divert large numbers of Germans and it was supported by a huge artillery bombardment with 2,879 guns firing 2,687,000 shells over a five-day period. It also got off to a good start. Within a few hours of the initial assault, the German line had been penetrated to a depth of three miles – the biggest gain since the onset of trench warfare in 1914 – and in one of the most astonishing feats of the war, the Canadian divisions captured the previously impregnable German positions on the gaunt features of Vimy Ridge where they enjoyed the heady sensation of looking down on to the Douai plain and watching the Germans in full retreat.

From the point of objectives being reached and casualties kept down, the first day of fighting at Arras deserves to be called a “triumph”. Thereafter matters did not run so smoothly and the impetus was lost. Foul weather was one reason – the snow and rain did not make life easy for the men on the ground and delayed the transport, and it proved impossible to sustain the attack with exhausted troops. Any opportunity for an early breakthrough was lost when the Germans pushed reinforcements into the line and their arrival quickly nullified Allenby’s earlier tactical advantage.

By the time that the fighting ended in the middle of May, all hope of defeating the Germans at Arras had disappeared and the losses had multiplied. The British suffered around 159,000 casualties, a daily rate of 4,076 (higher than the Somme’s 2,943), and the stuffing had been knocked out of many of the formations which had been involved in a month of hard fighting against a heavily reinforced enemy. From that point of view, Arras is a difficult battle to categorise. It got off to a good start by showing that "the enemy" was susceptible to accurate and concentrated artillery fire and in that sense, it encouraged hopes of a possible breakthrough. But it was also a “what if” and “if only” battle, one which showed what could be done but also revealed weaknesses in the British Army’s command structure, especially during the latter phases along the River Scarpe. This time there were to be no easy gains and the British attack soon faltered as the assault battalions came up against stronger German opposition, leaving the historian of the 9th Scottish Division to lament the shortcomings of the Scarpe offensive: “Little can be said in defence of this battle, which the Division fought with great reluctance. The preparations and arrangements were hurried to a deplorable degree.” For men who had been in continuous action in the first phase of the battle, this second assault along the Scarpe proved to be a battle too far and by the middle of May, Allenby was forced to scale down the offensive.

While all this had been happening, on April 16, the French launched their attack on the Aisne between Reims and Soissons with a huge creeping bombardment preceding the infantry attack. General Robert Nivelle, a gunnery officer and veteran of the Battle of Verdun, had had high hopes that his infantry divisions would achieve a breakthrough but he was to be disappointed. Not only was the barrage mismanaged but due to lapses in French security, the Germans had reinforced the area and their machine-gunners were able to mow down the advancing French forces. Within five days it was clear that the offensive had failed with the French army losing 134,000 casualties for the gain of a miniscule amount of territory.

Amidst the fear and turmoil, there were moments of black humour. Commanding 6th Gordon Highlanders at Arras was the Hon William Fraser, asked a battalion runner from the front line where he had come from, only to receive the dusty answer: “Aberdeen”. With the battle raging, the conversation became more surreal.

“No, no, where do you come from now?”

“Yonder,” replied the runner.

“Well,” said the colonel, “what’s happening yonder?”

“Well, a Boche officer comes up to us and says surrender.”

“Well?”

“We told him, to hell with surrender.”

“Where’s the officer now?”

“Yonder.”

“What’s he doing yonder?”

“Doing?” said the runner. “He’s deid.”

The high attrition rate led to mutinies in many frontline formations as battle-weary soldiers refused to continue fighting. Officers spoke of “a sort of moral nihilism” as men went on strike and refused orders or simply sat down with their arms folded. In the aftermath, Nivelle was sacked and replaced by General Henri-Philippe Petain, whose good sense and firmness finally restored order, although the unrest in some units continued into the early part of 1918.

Given the French collapse which was almost fatal to the allied cause and the lack of any lasting success at Arras, it could be asked why the commemoration is taking place this weekend. After all, the war was not ended, there was no sudden breakthrough and large numbers of lives were lost, many of them felled by shrapnel. Arras is not one of the better-known names of the First World War but nevertheless it deserves to be remembered, not least because it involved the largest number of Scots in any one battle during the First World War. There were also some gains which presaged the end of the war in the following year. The initial attacks demonstrated that the British had learned from the Somme by concentrating their artillery to pin down the enemy in their deep trenches, the barrage was also more accurate and proved to be effective against wire. Just as importantly it gave the soldiers experience of going forward against an enemy hitherto thought to be unbeatable – an invaluable lesson for any soldier in the front line.

So, all being well, by the end of today the Battle of Arras will have been suitably commemorated by Scotland in the heart of our oldest ally, France. Also, there will have been a high-level representation from Canada, New Zealand and South Africa, countries which are no strangers to the Scottish diaspora and where Scottish accents are greeted with the hand of friendship. All this matters. Judging from the evidence of letters and diaries written by Scottish soldiers during the war, a key component in maintaining morale was the notion that they were in good company, fighting among friends.

The volunteers might have taken fierce pride in being a Royal Scot or a Gordon Highlander and they might have considered themselves to be better than the other mob, but that was tribal and strictly personal. On a private and personal level, they fought for their families, those who were nearest and dearest to them and who were waiting for them back home. In the final analysis, though, in the heat of battle and amidst the hellish fear of gunfire and explosion, they fought for the soldier standing beside them, their comrade-in-arms.

In no other place on the Western Front is that emotion given truer meaning than at Beaumont Hamel some 20 miles to the south of Arras. It was there that the Battle of the Somme finally stuttered to an end in November 1916 and it is there that the service and sacrifice of so many Scottish regiments are commemorated by the 51st Highland Division memorial, a magnificent cairn topped by a kilted Highland soldier, which stands close to the old German lines. Its inscription would have raised a sardonic smile from those who died on the Western Front’s many battlefields. Translated from Gaelic – Là a’ bhlàir’s math na càirdean – it reads simply: “Friends are good on the day of battle.”

Trevor Royle is a member of the Scottish Government’s Panel for the Commemoration of World War 1

'Who are these men that rush on death?'

One of the first casualties on the opening day was Lieutenant Alastair Buchan, younger brother of the novelist and historian John Buchan, who was working as director of information and virtual head of Britain’s wartime propaganda. An officer in 6th Royal Scots Fusiliers, Alastair Buchan was a spirited young man who was much loved by the soldiers in his battalion. He was also widely read and was particularly fond of Edmond Rostand’s heroic play Cyrano de Bergerac which, ironically, is set “under the walls of Arras”. As a boy, he loved declaiming the line: “Who are these men that rush on death?” before roaring out Cyrano’s response: “Cadets of Gascony are we.” Alastair’s death greatly affected John Buchan, who wrote of him in his autobiography that: “He did not dream that it would be his fate to fall on an April morning under the walls of Arras.”

To compound the misery, Buchan heard later that his close friend and business partner Tommy Nelson had also been killed in the fighting.