FOOTNOTES:[7]In spite of several operations the Captain is still crippled.
FOOTNOTES:
[7]In spite of several operations the Captain is still crippled.
[7]In spite of several operations the Captain is still crippled.
CHAPTER XXI
The Death-Struggle of Lierre Fort
By an Officer of the Garrison
No harvest of impressions will be found in this account, for, although it might seem that the garrison of a Fort must be crowded together within the narrow surface occupied by the building, it is in reality dispersed everywhere: three men here, ten there, in the cupolas, in the munition stores, at the observation posts. Each man is in his special department and the contact is much less close than among the troops in campaign.
When, on account of the destruction of certain parts of the Fort, the garrison comes gradually nearer together, the moral tension, the lack of sleep, the irregularity of the alimentation transform the garrison into a passive troop under an avalanche of blows. The men are still capable of reaction and of desperate efforts, but the efforts are silent and, as it were, mechanical. Those who have never lived through such hours can never know the intensity of the suffering endured by the defenders of the Fort.
September 27, 1914.The cannon is roaring in the distance and appears to be coming nearer. We canhear Waelhem and Wavre-St. Catherine firing quite distinctly. Huge tufts of white smoke rise above the trees in the distance. The Malines Tower has disappeared entirely in the smoke.
For the last few days, every man has been at his post. German troops, probably on patrol, have been signalled to us by our watchers, at a distance of more than 8500 yards from the Fort. They are too far away for us to do anything. The attack is imminent.
Our men are resolute and their one wish is to open fire.
The day and night have passed without any incident.
September 28th.The morning has been calm for us. The cannon is roaring all the time. Our telephonic communications inform us that Waelhem and Wavre-St. Catherine are being bombarded violently. At two in the afternoon, our observation posts signal to us the occupation, by enemy groups, of localities within our radius of action. The cupolas of fifteen centimetres open fire and will continue until evening.
The first firing of our cannon was a veritable relief. The nervous tension, caused by waiting, is over, and the whole Fort is gay and animated.
At 8 o'clock, bombardment by the Forts of the agglomerations along the Aerschot road, where we had been informed that the enemy was quartered.
There has been no reply from the enemy.
The aviation had informed us of the construction of siege batteries within our defence sector. We could do nothing against them, on account of the distance.
September 29th.With the exception of our firing yesterday, all has been calm.
At 7.30 this morning, characteristic whizzing sounds warned us that shells were passing over the Fort.The explosions took place a long way off, probably at Lierre. The screen of trees hides the town from us. By telephone, we heard that shells were falling at the gates of Louvain. Before long, it was our turn. Shrapnels came first, and their strident, metallic explosion surprised our men. Presently shells burst on the masonry of the barracks. Our T.S.F. antenna is cut. This is the first phase of our isolation. We are replying vigorously to the enemy's fire.
At 11 o'clock, suspension of the firing. The men brought into the firing gallery fragments of shells and shrapnels, bullets and fuses. From one of the fuses, we found that the measurement of the Germans is at 5200 yards, which is the average of our own measurement on the batteries indicated.
At 2 o'clock, the firing on both sides began again. We received projectiles of 13 centimetres by 5, one of which had fused and came rolling in front of our office. The town of Lierre was still being bombarded and we were informed that the civil hospital had been struck and that eight persons had been killed.
At 5 o'clock, suspension of the firing. At 7.30, renewal which did not last long and was not very efficacious.
With all this the Fort has not suffered much. There are a number of holes, chiefly in the barracks masonry, above which simili-cupolas had been installed. A cupola of fifteen centimetres had been grazed and a few window-panes broken. All is well and the spirits of the men excellent. They, are getting bolder and bolder and we are compelled to stop them moving about in the open.
Sixty-four shells have struck the Fort. We learned, by telephone, in the evening, that Wavre-St. CatherineFort, shattered by formidable shells, had been evacuated. We have heard nothing about the Waelhem Fort. It has no doubt met with the same fate. This sad news was only announced to the officers.
At 11.30, an observer warned us of the approach of a column by the Aerschot road. We accordingly fired on this road and the land around until about 1.30.
September 30th.At 3.40, a grouping of enemy troops was announced to us beyond the village of Koningshoyckt. At the same time the Fort of that name and the Tallaert redoubt, which were both being attacked, appealed for support to the Lierre Fort. Acting on information from them, and with the aid of their interval observatories, we opened fire which continued until 6 o'clock. There was no sleep for any one at night, and this will not be the last night of the kind. From henceforth there will be no more rest for us.
At 8 o'clock, the bombardment recommenced, not only on the Lierre Fort but also on the interval constructions and on the forts and redoubts to our right. A few shrapnels came first, and then a deluge of shells of every calibre. Not a single pane of glass could resist this, and the very ground shook under our feet. This sensation of springy ground will continue for several days after the bombardment.
At 11 o'clock, utter silence. The interior platforms are damaged and all circulation within the Fort is difficult, but our armament is still in perfect condition.
At 12.20, there was an ominous whizzing sound first, and then a noise like an express train at full speed. The projectile fell above the barracks with a formidable detonation. After this, a shower of cementand of masonry fell on the whole of the Fort. We have just received the first 420 shell. Without intermittence until 6 o'clock, a similar projectile has arrived every six minutes. We have received fifty-seven of them in this way. The craters measured from 8 to 10 metres in diameter. The stoppers were flung 50 metres up in the air and they came down again like fresh projectiles. One of the first of these shells fell near us. The lower part, thrown vertically, fell on the edge of the crater. Its dimensions were remarkable. The fitter was told to go,after the bombardmentand bring this in, in order to weigh and measure it. He went off at once, during the bombardment, and after twenty minutes of effort dragged the piece into the office. He was reproved for this unnecessary imprudence. The soldier replied simply: "But it was not hot!" This piece measured 388 millimetres in diameter and weighed 66 kilogrammes. Other fragments picked up had sharp edges: one of them measured 85 centimetres in length. The explosion produced a black, bitter, and very dense smoke, which curled round on the ground and was very slow in dispersing.
The interior telephonic communications are still practicable, with the exception of the battery adjoining the glacis of the semi-front left gorge.
The barracks have partially given way and the officers' pavilion is cut in two. This does not trouble us, as these places were evacuated a few days ago and orders were given not to stay in them. From the caponier of the front gorge, we were told by telephone that the vault was cracked and that the stoke holes were obstructed by earth, and also by thedébrisof masonry thrown up by the explosions in the immediate vicinity. This was evacuated. As to the cupola of fifteen centimetres on the left, we were informed that the cuirass of 5 cent. 7 of the salient I. had been thrown up in the air and had fallen about twenty yards from the tower. A shell had fallen in front of the postern entrance, about fifty yards long, and the compression of air had caused this damage. A cannon of 8 cent. 7, placed for firing at æroplanes and Zeppelins, had been flung from its position, the gun carriage had been entirely turned round and one wheel broken.
When the bombardment ceased, we rushed out to see for ourselves what the damages were, whilst our cannons continued firing in order to relieve the Koningshoyckt Fort, which had several of its pieces too much injured to use, and also the Tallaert redoubt, which was threatened with a frontal attack.
The archways were cracked everywhere and the paving-stones were torn up out of the ground, which was all furrowed and broken up. Some of the communication passages were destroyed. The diameter of the craters was greater than the distance which separated the jambs. These were all weakened and the heavy cement arches, deprived of their support, were absolutely broken, as though they had been hacked by a gigantic blow from an axe. This bombardment had not disturbed the equanimity of the soldiers much.
When the masonry or the cement was struck, a shower of bricks and of shingle covered the Fort, pouring through all the openings violently. The first time this happened, two men who were at the entrance of a postern were bruised by the shingles. A jocular man remarked: "Good, now they are putting pebbles in their shells!"
We heard groans though from the barrack ruins, and we dragged out one wounded man and two who had been killed. They were civilian workmen who had come there to install loud-speaking telephones.
The wounded man told us that two or three men, one of whom was a soldier, were under the ruins of what had served as a mess-room for the troop. It was impossible to get them out from under the heaps of ruins.
The battery of the glacis was destroyed by two projectiles. We found neither dead nor living men there. What had become of the gunners? All was not lost, however, as, with the exception of the cupola of 5 cent. 7 of salient I. all our defence works are still in good condition and our men do not manifest any anxiety.
October 1st.In obedience to orders from our chief, and together with the neighbouring forts and the interval batteries, we opened a rapid fire of twenty minutes' duration, at 2 and at 4 o'clock, on the localities and the roads in front of our line of defence.
At 7 o'clock we buried our dead.
From 8 o'clock, the intervals, the Koningshoyckt Fort and the Tallaert redoubt were actively bombarded. Our turn did not come until 10.15. Only nine projectiles were sent to us.
At 1 o'clock the bombardment began again and, as on the previous day, a shell came every six minutes.
Towards 3 o'clock, the semi-caponier on the right was hit. The aim had been shortened, as the firing had hitherto generally been directed at the left half of the Fort. Most of the men had taken refuge in the right half. On this account, no one was wounded, but the fifteen centimetre cupola was disabledby the blocks of cement coming from the half demolished tower. Some of these blocks measured nearly a cubic yard. The men were quickly evacuated to the front.
A gunner, bringing information bulletins, now arrived all covered with mud. As the cupolas had been covered with soaked earth, the men thought that he must have taken this covering off by crawling over the cupola, and his comrades blamed him for this. The good fellow was surprised at their accusation, as he had simply rolled into a crater under the firing, and this was why he was in such a muddy state.
The bombardment continued and we saw that our intact shelters were becoming fewer and fewer. The Artillery Commander fell into a crater. He could not walk and had to be taken to the Infirmary. The Commander of the Fusiliers, overworked and intoxicated by the gas from the explosions, was ill and one of the doctors was ill too. The influence of the gases became more and more distressing. Some of the men had fainting fits, others wept. Certain of them were depressed and seemed to be awaiting the shell which should finish them off. Neither persuasions nor threats from the Commander of the Fort, aided by the doctor and the chaplain, took any effect on these men, who were awaiting death like irresponsible cattle.
Towards 7.30 in the evening, this infernal bombardment slackened and very soon it ceased. The Fort had received 60 of the terrible 420 shells. The Commander of the Lierre-Tallaert interval announced an attack by the enemy Infantry supported by field Artillery.
The men pulled themselves together, the cupolas were occupied, and the firing line filled with machine-gunners and Fusiliers. The Tallaert redoubt could not do much and asked for help.
We fired with all our pieces on to the ground in front of the accessory defences of the interval. The enemy attack, under our firing, was defeated about 9 o'clock. All the garrison had taken part in the fight, even our invalids. The Commander of the Fusiliers went back to his post on the rampart.
The Fort was once more bombarded and at 11 o'clock, a fresh attack on the interval began, without any better result for the enemy than the first one.
October 2nd.At 2 o'clock, the third attack on the interval began. The firing line on the front of the Fort head was inundated with cartridges from the enemy machine-guns. Our Fusiliers replied with fury. Their Commander had the hardest work to regulate the firing. The heated guns got choked. No matter, our men were determined the Germans should not pass. Our cannons fired at full speed. The noise was deafening. For more than two hours, we lived in the midst of this hell and we no longer heard the enemy's balls which came in swarms whizzing over our heads. One of the cannons was disabled by the firing. The second one did double work, but before long could not keep its place in the battery either.
At 4.30, we knew by the red fuses, that the enemy was retreating. The interval had not been crossed and not a single wire of the accessory defences had been cut. This success gave our men fresh hope and confidence; they were almost joyful. Their fatigue was very evident though. As soon as the enemy attack was withdrawn, the firing gallery stoppedreplying to calls. We went to see what was happening and found the whole staff asleep. The officer had thrown himself down on a mattress, and on getting up he staggered with fatigue. There had been a few minutes' respite and all the men, not having to keep on the alert, had succumbed to their exhaustion.
The Commander of the Fort himself, a little time before, had fallen asleep in a cupola in full action.
The Commander of the Fort Artillery, who still could not walk, was evacuated, together with another wounded man. Food was then distributed and repairs done. The replenishing of the cupolas with ammunition was effected, thanks to the covered passages that were still intact.
At 7.20 the bombardment began once more. Enemy aëroplanes had been to see the state of the Fort, and the destruction then became systematic. Every six minutes a 420 projectile arrived—"the block train," as the men called it. We watched the progress of the bombardment with great anxiety.
The projectiles could be heard from afar, and they struck first the left and then the right of the Fort. The flank salients being very close together, the blow struck either one or the other of these projections indifferently. The soldiers remarked this and made bets as soon as the sound of the projectiles was heard in the distance. The salient I. was well sprinkled first and then the firing was on the front. The covered passage to the right of the front gave way. It was by this that the ammunition supply for the cupolas was effected. How many men were under the ruins? A roll-call was impossible. We had to evacuate part of the front, and half of the staff had to take refuge in the semi-caponier on the right.All telephonic and telegraphic communication was cut off. The Lierre office no longer replied, as the town had been evacuated.
The firing now approached the right semi-caponier, and a shell burst fifteen yards from the entrance.
The men were ordered to keep at the other side of the Fort, which was no longer bombarded. It was impossible to warn those who had remained at the front caponier. The explosions continued every six minutes, and the bombardment was carried on systematically by series, and in an invariable manner. By observing where the projectiles fell, we could calculate just the moment when it would be time to move away. The first firing of a series was dangerous for us. As soon as the explosions followed each other too quickly, the men collected together, as soon as they heard the whizzing, waited for the projectile to fall, and then rushed off to their fresh shelter.
This game could not, however, continue very long. The projectiles seemed to be following us, and the arches gave way one after another after we had left them.
Towards 2 o'clock in the afternoon, the order was given to the Commander of the Fusiliers to collect his men in groups and to send them, in the intervals between the firing, to the postern gate of the Fort, which, so far, was intact. The order was carried out and we were able to pass, in the most miraculous way, between the projectiles. The firing now continued for some time on the left part of the Fort and the men grouped themselves on the berm in the space which separates the parapet from the moat against the outside talus of the semi-front of the rightgorge. Just at that moment the two hundred and thirty-fifth 420 shell fell on the Fort.
With the exception of the danger from the pieces of masonry and from the explosions, which did not injure any one seriously, we were fairly safe. Towards noon, the projectiles came more frequently and the men who were under the entrance postern and in the guard-room were called inside. All the defence works were by this time either destroyed or of no use. The corridors and posterns were obstructed by huge blocks of masonry. The cupola of 5 centimetres 7 of salient IV. was the only one which appeared to be in good condition, but it was impossible to get to it. The garrison's last shelter was now threatened in its turn. A projectile burst on the edge of the moat, a few yards beyond the entrance to the Fort, and this caused a moment's panic. The bombardment continued, making it impossible for us to reoccupy the building. At 2.30, a formidable detonation and a dense smoke made us presume that the Koningshoyckt Fort had just been blown up.
We saw that the firing of our field-batteries, which were in position at the back of us, had shortened their aim, in order to cover the retreat of the troops in the intervals. Their shrapnels burst just at the height where we were stationed. German batteries were now placed to the right of the Fort, so that we were caught between two fires.
It was not possible for us to re-enter the ruined Fort. The 420 shells continued to fall on it every six minutes with hopeless regularity. Our reserve rations and cartridges were buried under the ruins. There was no more drinking water, the guns were empty, and the men starving with hunger.There was, perhaps, just time to prevent ourselves from being surrounded. We had to make the attempt under a deluge of shrapnels. The men were worn out, and it was with a feeling of intense sadness and discouragement that, at 6 o'clock, the officers decided to take them toward Lierre. The defence had lasted four interminable days, under a bombardment which allowed of no rest and which prevented our relieving each other. Counting beforehand on the demoralising effects of their terrible engines of warfare, the Germans had imagined that on the night of the 1st to the 2nd of October, a strong attack would make them masters of the Fort.
Their three attempts at assault were so many failures for them. When, twenty-four hours later, they actually entered the Fort, it was merely a heap of ruins which fell into their hands.
Fighting is nothing if only one can return the blows one receives. The range of the enemy's Artillery was considerably beyond ours, so that they were protected from our firing. We were obliged to wait, with folded arms, until Death saw fit to take us.
This waiting, in a dark passage of masonry, which one knows is doomed to be destroyed and which every six minutes is in danger of being dashed to pieces by the projectiles that one hears coming, means enduring the agony of death over and over again.
Such an experience acts on the best tempered nerves, and the heroism of those who awaited death there, simply because they had been ordered to do so, was all the more admirable because it was simple, unobtrusive heroism, about which the world has hitherto never known.
CHAPTER XXII
Prisoner in the Soltau Camp
From the Account Given by Amand Hasevoets, First Sergeant of the Regiment of Fortress Grenadiers
From the Account Given by Amand Hasevoets, First Sergeant of the Regiment of Fortress Grenadiers
I belonged to a Company of the Fortress Grenadiers' Regiment. We occupied the interval between the Kessel and Broechem Forts when, on the 4th of October, 1914, the bombardment commenced. The Germans began with shrapnels for regulating their firing, and then, at intervals from five to ten minutes, they sent their shells on to Broechem. According to whether the projectile fell into the sand, into the moat, or on to the cement, a yellow, black, or white sheaf rose ten yards high in the air.
Towards evening, we received orders to protect a column of soldiers belonging to the Engineers, whose mission was to destroy the bridges over the Nèthe. Hidden in the fields, we saw figures gliding along by the river. In the darkness of the night, there were five immense glows and five detonations. The bridges had been blown up at Broechem, the cannonading slackened, and flames surrounded the Fort.
We fell back on the second line of defence. We passed through Wyneghem, Burght, and Zwyndrecht, where the regiment rejoined us. The soldiers whohad marched about thirty-seven miles, and for weeks had had no other beds than the trenches, were worn out. They had scarcely piled arms when most of them were stretched out on the pavement. The inhabitants, from the thresholds of their houses, looked at the Grenadiers with curiosity mingled with fear. What had these troops come to do here? The sight of a few coins reassured them, and very soon a carefully prepared little meal was ready in every house. The following day, we continued our retreat by the St. Nicholas road. The cannon was roaring and the ground trembling under a rain of shells, which interrupted our march and obliged us to await the end of the storm lying down among the beet-root, or turnip plants.
At Beveren-Waes, the Colonel called the officers together and talked to them for a long time. They came back to us gloomy and discouraged.
"We are surrounded," they said, "by an enemy of overpoweringly superior numbers. All resistance would be useless. Our last and only resource is to get to Holland."
Desperate, and with tears in their eyes, the soldiers talked in low voices to each other, giving utterance to their opinions.
"Fancy being shut up there without having fought, without having seen the enemy! How humiliating!"
The regiment, however, was soon on the way towards Clinge and, in the midst of a heavy fog, made a passage along the road which was encumbered with carts and vehicles of every kind, in the midst of a distracted population in flight. The soldiers thought sadly of their departure from Brussels two months ago, of the enthusiasm, the pride and confidencewhich they had felt, as they set out, on a bright sunny day, singing as they went along the Wavre road, amid the cheers and applause of the crowd.
On approaching the frontier, the men threw down their guns, cartridge cases, and bags. For several miles the ground was strewn with articles of equipment. This sight roused my indignation.
"No," I exclaimed, "whatever happens, I am not going to Holland!" I picked up some cartridges and stuffed all my pockets with them, and whilst my comrades crossed the frontier, I went with big strides towards the Lokeren road.
I have no idea how long a time I walked, for I was like a madman. At every instant, patrols appeared on whom I fired. Auto-machine-guns passed along at full speed and, hidden in a ditch, scarcely daring to breathe, I waited until these terrible engines of warfare had disappeared. By incredible luck, escaping all kinds of danger, I reached the suburbs of Lokeren. Peasants were working peacefully in the fields. I approached them and asked whether there were any Prussians in the town.
"More than 100,000," was the reply.
"Where can I find some civilian's clothes?" I asked.
"Over yonder, in that farm. They will probably give you some."
I entered the farm and, after a little discussion, I obtained some clothes for fifteen francs, which I at once put on. After burying my gun and my uniform, emboldened by my disguise, I advanced fearlessly along the Lokeren road.
"Who goes there?" I heard someone call out.
"An inhabitant of Lokeren," I answered.
"Hands up!"
I obeyed.
"Advance!"
I obeyed again. I had happened upon a Bavarian patrol hidden behind the trees on the road. I was questioned briefly and then taken to join a hundred and fifty civilians in hiding along the hedge. After waiting for an hour, as the mouse-trap did not catch any fresh victim, the commanding officer, a Lieutenant, addressed us.
"As you are peaceable citizens, I am going to have you taken back to the town."
We set out escorted by Bavarian soldiers. Near the bridge over the Durme, a Lieutenant, stationed in front of a manufactory, was awaiting us.
"Come in here!" he said. We entered and, inside the courtyard, we saw piles of uniforms belonging to the Belgian Engineers. We were ordered to put them on. I went to the officer and protested. "I am not a soldier and I am not going to act this comedy," I said. By way of answering, the Lieutenant seized my hands. With a pen-knife he took some of the dirt from my nails and smelt it. He then took a little bottle, poured some liquid over this dirt, and smelt it again. After this, he gave me a blow with his fist.
"Your hands are not the hands of a labourer, but of a soldier," he yelled. "Obey, or you will be shot."
Under the surveillance of two soldiers, who carefully inspected my under linen, I put on the uniform and took my place among the Belgian soldiers they had thus improvised. Grouped in a column, we were triumphantly promenaded through the Lokeren streets, and insults and jokes were lavished on us by the German soldiery. The parade ended, after amock interrogation, we were taken to a place without any egress and obliged to bury a lot of dead horses already in a state of decomposition.
Whilst doing this, I took note of my surroundings and I saw, on the right, the entrance to a dark passage. Taking advantage of a moment of inattention, I slipped into this. It was an ice-house. It was intensely dark, but I groped along and crouched down behind some blocks of ice, where I spent several hours shivering with cold. I could hear the expressions of disgust uttered by my companions during their repulsive task.
When this was accomplished, a sub-officer took it into his head to count the men.
"There is one missing," he remarked.
One of us, a wretched spy, denounced me.
"He is in the ice-house," he said.
The Germans entered, discovered me, and literally kicked me out. No one can imagine my state of fury and rage. If only any of these wretches ever fall into my hands, they will have no time to feel bored, for I am reserving for them a little fête of my own invention. On Tuesday, eight hundred English soldiers and three hundred Belgian soldiers were added to our number. They were real soldiers this time. As some of the Belgian ones were in civilian dress, I made an arrangement with one of them to change my uniform for his clothes. It would be more easy in this way to play my part as a citizen.
The following day, escorted by Bavarians, we set out on foot and were taken to Termonde, a march of about twelve miles. The walk was very painful, as our only food was the turnips that the soldiers gathered in the fields and threw to us.
Termonde was frightful to behold. In the midst of the houses which had been burned down were drunken sailors, holding bottles of wine under their arms, while they pillaged, saccaged, and turned out everything. In one of the streets, the Burgomaster of Waesmunster stopped us and, thanks to his protestations, obtained the liberation of the inhabitants of his commune. I saw an officer dressed as a Belgian and asked him to intervene in my favour, pleading that I was a civilian. The Belgian officer immediately spoke to the Commander of the convoy, who replied in excellent French:
"We have received orders to arrest the civilians in the districts where our troops have been fired on. If I gave this man his liberty, he would be arrested again before he had gone five hundred yards. Come and speak to me at Schaerbeck and I will see." At 7 o'clock in the evening, we were taken to the station, counted, given a plate of soup, and then huddled into cattle trucks, upon which was a thick layer of manure. In each truck were thirty-six Belgians and four Bavarian soldiers. We then started in a broken-winded train! It advanced slowly, puffing, whistling, and stopping every minute. Very soon our keepers began to talk to us. They showed us their blue and white cockades proudly.
"Queen Elisabeth is Bavarian, too," they said. "She is a noble woman and will be an example for the Belgians. We admire her and respect her."
In other ways, too, they expressed their sympathy with the Belgian nation. Taking advantage of all this I asked one of them to open the door, so that we could have a last look at our country. He consented and, whilst my eyes were fixed on the pasture groundfull of cattle, the golden harvest fields, with red-roofed farms here and there, looking so gay and cheerful under the setting sun, I, crouching down on the manure, in the warm, infected atmosphere, with insects worrying us, made a fresh plan of escape.
Presently all was silent and the Bavarians were dozing. Outside there were no troops in sight. Sentinels posted from one half-mile to another kept watch over the railway line. We were within sight of Zellick and there was the race-course. It seemed to be a propitious moment. I opened the door cautiously and prepared to jump out. Just then a voice called out: "What fool has opened the door, letting in the cold?"
The four Bavarians sprang to their feet, cursing and swearing. They distributed a few blows among us with the butt ends of their guns. Our train passed through Brussels, creeping along like a tortoise and, at five in the afternoon, reached Liége.
Our arrival was announced, and the population, massed around the station and in the neighbouring streets, cheered us and threw us bread, chocolate, tobacco, and other things and called out, "Is Antwerp taken?" On our reply in the affirmative, they groaned: "Oh, God, what a misfortune!"
It can readily be imagined how thankful we were for the food thrown to us. Since the day before, we had had nothing to eat or to drink. Our hunger touched the Bavarians who allowed us to get down on the line and pick up the gifts strewn all about. For the men of our truck, we had a loaf weighing about two pounds, a tablet of chocolate, and four bottles of wine. All this divided by thirty-six did not allow of big portions, but the sight of the courageous Liégeois city and thecordial welcome of its inhabitants had comforted us. After the meal, when two cigarettes each were allotted to us, we felt as though we had just had a king's feast. A little emboldened, I went up to a German officer who had a kindly look and introduced myself to him as an inoffensive pastry cook of Brussels, who had gone to Flanders to buy butter more cheaply, and was a victim of a frightful mistake. I was eloquent and persuasive in my arguments. "You are free," the officer said at last; "ask for a ticket for Brussels."
Intoxicated with joy, I rushed to the office of the military superintendent of the station. He was a big fellow, with a head like a bull-dog's. He did not trouble to listen, but gave me a blow with his fist on my head, another on the back of my neck, and hastened my departure from his office by a formidable kick.
On leaving Liége, we had to travel in absolute darkness. At Herbesthal, a dummy hanging from a stake, and dressed up in the full military dress of a Belgian artilleryman, caused laughter, in which our Bavarian keepers joined. Without stopping, we continued our way as far as Dusselheite. In a shed near the station, we were allowed to wash. It is impossible to give an idea of our filth. Our faces were smudged with dirt and filth of all kinds, our hair was tangled and full of straw, our clothes were dirty. Each one of us, looking at his neighbour, said to himself: "What a dirty creature!" Thanks to some soap and water, after brushing and scraping ourselves, we once more looked like human beings. We drank a bowl of soup, devoured three sausages, and set off once more on our way. We passed by stations, wentover bridges, level crossings, and under tunnels. Frequently we met trains filled with German soldiers, who shook their fists and shouted their insults.
We did not reply, but our eyes spoke for us and our hatred could be read in them. Our apparently interminable journey came to an end finally and, on October 16th, at 11 o'clock at night, after sixty-four hours of travelling, we arrived at Soltau. At the station, we were divided into two groups, soldiers and civilians, and were sent to the riding-school. We had to pass through a crowd more curious than hostile. When we reached the building, a sub-officer, with the word "Gibraltar" on his uniform, told us to go in. We entered and found it full. Without being disturbed in the least, "Gibraltar" struck out right and left, yelling: "Here, there's room enough here for a pig." We lay down on the ground and slept like brutes.
The next day, I discovered that the circus contained 1400 civilian prisoners, of ages varying from eight to eighty-four. Among them were the Catholic priests of Lebbeke and of Sommeleuze, the chaplain of the Termonde Orphanage, the notary of ——, Abbé Bilaers, etc. All the ecclesiastics had been compelled to dress as laymen, as the sight of the cassock excited the soldiers' anger. They drove the priests along with their bayonets, shouting: "Dogs, pigs, you pray in church and you shoot in the street!" With the exception of "Gibraltar," the soldiers on guard did not ill-treat us. They shouted, swore, and threatened, but they rarely struck any of us. Very strict rules were imposed on us and any infraction was punished by prison or by the stake. This latter punishment consisted of fastening the guilty man to one of theupright pillars of the circus. He had to stand there for twelve hours, and this was excessively painful. As for our food, we had coffee in the morning, soup at noon, and in the evening, and every third day a loaf of bread of 1500 grammes. This alimentation was wholesome, but insufficient. As I had a little money, I was able to get some extra food, but those of my companions who had used up their money were reduced to devouring the scraps that their keepers left them. It was a heart-rending sight to see rich, educated men, who held high posts in our country, seizing the tins containing the leavings of the German soldiers and eating these scraps gladly.
Our number decreased, as the children under fourteen were sent back to Brussels and the ecclesiastics to Selb. Finally, on the 26th of October, all the remaining prisoners were sent to the camp at Soltau.
Situated in the midst of the Lunebourg fir-tree woods, this camp looked very cheerful. The installations occupied a vast space and consisted of 96 wooden sheds, 150 yards long, and 12 wide, covered with bituminated pasteboard and provided with electricity and central heating. Each shed, beside the work-rooms and baths, had six dormitories, all built alike. On the floor, which was raised saddle-back fashion, were straw sacks filled with vegetal fibre, which generally harbours vermin in quantities. Against the outer wall were shelves, upon which each man could keep his clothes and toilette affairs. The discipline was strict, the food wholesome and scanty, and work obligatory. Seated on benches, we spent our days plaiting straw bags. Our fingers were numb with cold, as the central heating apparatus was never used. My hands were stiff and rigid with rheumatism,and very soon I could do no more work. I sat there for long, weary hours idle, gazing out blankly, thinking of my wife and children, and of my country, that I should probably never see again.
On the 10th of January, the Flemish were separated from the Walloons, and on the 25th of the same month we were told, to our delight, that the Flemish were to be sent back to their country. Our joy can be imagined. We began shouting and dancing and then, suddenly ashamed of ourselves, we were silent. Our unfortunate Walloon companions were weeping bitter tears. We endeavoured to encourage them, we assured them that they would soon be freed and, in their presence, we hid our joy as much as possible. Whatever may have been our social differences, and our differences of opinion, the suffering we had endured together had created a strong bond of friendship between us, and it was with a pang at our hearts that we left them when the time came to start.
We were 2800 in number and we left on the 28th, at ten in the morning. We reached Schaerbeek on the 29th, at nine in the evening, and were set free on the 30th of January, at eleven in the morning.
I rushed off immediately, in the direction of my home. Joyful, and with a light heart, I hurried along the familiar streets. As I arrived nearer and nearer, my eyes became dim and my legs felt as though they would give way. When once I saw the house, with its shop window full of tempting cakes, just as when I had left it, my heart seemed to give a bound within my breast and I suddenly felt weak and had to lean against the wall. What joy it was to see my dear wife and children once more.
Alas, the joy was not of long duration. I couldnot forget that our country was in danger, and I could not desert the brave comrades who were doing glorious deeds on the banks of the Yser.
In spite of the entreaties of my wife and the tears of my children, I made my way, a few days later, to the frontier and rejoined the army.
CHAPTER XXIII
The Last Fragments of Antwerp
By Artillery Captain M—— C——
The Retreat
We were approaching the frontier——
Behind those trees, five hundred yards away, was Holland, the boundary of our country. To cross that frontier meant the end for the time being of our resistance.... What would be done with us there? Would they—? Ah no, at that idea, my whole soul revolted and strengthened me against the force of things. Cross that frontier? Never! And once more the idea which had come into my mind, and taken possession of me ever since leaving Antwerp, became imperious: "Join the King once more or—die." Good, this time I felt ready to risk everything.
Confusion reigned supreme. Everything seemed to be mixed up in inextricable disorder. In the narrow streets of this frontier village, men of all kinds of arms, belonging to every different unit, were gathered togetherpêle-mêle. The retreat had brought them all here together to this spot. Soldiers were looking for their chiefs, officers were looking for their troops and, whilst trying to bring some kind of orderinto the chaos, they were hindered by carts and vehicles of all sorts, the drivers of which were endeavouring to make a way for themselves through the seething crowds. I had never felt, until this moment, all the horror of the defeat and the strange impotence of the army that has experienced it.
These lamentable fragments were all that remained of the Antwerp garrison. Assailed on all sides in the last redoubt of the fortified place, they had held out against the victorious enemy to the very end. The cannons, dragged along for miles by the men themselves, had been turned round and pointed backwards, on the city from which the Germans were already coming. Then the retreat had taken place, the interminable, exhausting retreat, when, in order to avoid being surrounded, we had marched, without halt, in the dust and heat of the sun, half dead with hunger and parched with thirst, the enemy harassing our flanks and threatening to cut us off all the time.
At present, we were here, at the frontier, and were in the position of an army in a blind alley. The darkness came on and we were surrounded by the enemy. We had been without food for two or three days. The men were dazed and bewildered by the commotion and could no longer hear the orders they received. One of them came wandering towards me and I told him where he would find his Company. He looked at me in a dazed way. I seized him by the shoulders and pushed him in the direction of his troop. Under the impulse of the strength acquired by my push, he walked a few steps and then rolled into a ditch, and remained there stretched out as though lifeless.
Vague rumours were circulating, discouraging,gloomy news. Some of our troops had gone over into Holland and we were going to follow them, as our retreat was cut off and the enemy quite near.... In the midst of the darkness, firing rent the air. I prepared immediately for parrying an attack, as I found myself in the rear-guard.
Suddenly, I heard a dull, prolonged sound in the village. I sent a messenger and went myself to the outposts. Quartermaster Snysters, a volunteer, though quite an elderly man, addressed me: "Lieutenant," he said, with an anxious look on his face, "is it true that we are going over into Holland?"
"My dear fellow, we shall not go over into Holland unless we want to," I answered. "Are we both of the same mind?"
"Ah, good! As for me, you know——"
He finished with an energetic gesture which required no words.
"Where are the others?" I asked.
The others were a few brave sub-officers, who, with my friend Snysters, had promised to follow me whatever happened, through everything, through the enemy, through death itself, if necessary. They were all there, awaiting me.
"My friends," I said, "things seem to be in a bad way. The moment has come to prove your mettle. Are you all of the same mind still?"
"Lieutenant," said big Van Bastelaer, "we are ready for everything—except to be prisoners."
"Good," I answered.
My messenger had not come back though. The sound I had heard in the village seemed farther off and everything appeared to be calm. I went to see for myself and found perfect silence in the dark street.There was not a man to be seen. What was happening? Presently, in the deserted Square of the little village, I saw a little group of soldiers appear and, at the head of it, I recognised Major S——.
"Is that you M——?" he called out, and then, in a lower tone, he added, "They have crossed the frontier, we are alone.... Have you any men?"
"Yes, Major, I am holding the outposts."
"Bring your men to the Square at once."
"My friends," said the Major, speaking very gravely, when we were all assembled there, "we are surrounded by big forces. There is nothing left but to cross the frontier and go into Holland. Those who do not wish to go with me are free."
"Good, Major," I answered, approaching him. "I will go with you to the frontier, but not beyond it."
The Major looked angry, but he restrained himself.
"What do you propose doing?" he asked.
"I intend getting through the German lines or dying in the attempt."
"But it is pure madness."
"I do not care to give up my sword, Major, as long as I can use it."
He reflected for a minute and then held out his hand. "Good," he said, "you are free. Adieu!"
Four men then left the ranks. They were my four friends, who all preferred a glorious death to servitude.
"Attention! Right flank! Right! Forward—March!"
Silently and with dragging footsteps, the troop set out and was soon at some distance. It then disappeared in the darkness.
The thing was done and we were alone, separatedfrom our army by streams of enemies, against whom we had to fling ourselves, and either pass or die in the attempt. Courage! The moment had come for us to prove our filial love for our beloved country! We were not conquered, we four, and in spite of the disaster hovering over us, in spite of Death, which we expected awaited us over yonder, we felt our hearts full of joy, hope, and pride....
In the German Lines
Before setting out, we held council together for a few minutes. The German lines now reached from St. Nicolas to the frontier. In a movement as rapid as theirs had been, it was very probable that they had left gaps between these two points, and we had to try to pass through these gaps. I took the direction and we set out. I made the sign of the cross and committed my soul and the souls of my companions to the God of Justice. We each had a good gun, a bayonet, and our pockets full of cartridges. We set off across the fields in the darkness.
After walking about fifty yards, I was compelled to come to a stand-still. The nervous tension which had kept me up whilst with the troop had suddenly given way and, suddenly, the fatigue of the preceding days seemed to come upon me and stiffen all my limbs. I felt giddy and the whole country seemed to be turning round and round. I fell to the ground, and my whole body seemed to be seized with an immense weariness. I dare not give way to it, as it was necessary to move on.
"Forward!" I said to myself, "for the King's sake!"
Presently we came to a cross-roads and it seemed to us as though something had moved behind the hedge. One of us crawled towards the spot and made a sign to the others that it was nothing. The wind had probably stirred one of the branches. We walked on and on, straight in front of us, across the immense polder, jumping over ditches full of water, and stumbling over the turnips in the field, for we passed through one after another of these turnip fields. I tore up a beet-root and ate it greedily as I walked along.
In the distance, we saw a group of houses standing out vaguely against the horizon. This was probably the dyke which forms a passage over the water. If this dyke should be guarded, which was very probable, we should have to look to ourselves. As we approached, we saw that the houses were lighted up. Peasants would not have lights at that hour. I crept along stealthily to one of the windows and gazed eagerly through a crack in the shutters. There was a room full of Boches in grey coats, some of them snoring and the others talking.
We slipped round towards the entrance to the dyke. At the bend was a sentinel, motionless. I rubbed my chin and thought things over. If we went along by the water, keeping at the bottom of the embankment, there must surely be a way of crossing, if there were not a second sentinel. Holding our breath and watching every shrub, we crept slowly along. We came to the end of the dyke and had met no one.
This then was the first obstacle cleared without any difficulty. Our prayer was that Heaven would protect the slumber of the Boches!
We were now once more in the endless desert,stumbling along in the furrows, eating turnips, crossing fields, our gaze searching for landmarks, which always seemed to draw farther away as we approached. Our minds were occupied with a vision of our army, that army which needed our arms and which had conquered our hearts.
Soon we came to a little hamlet. There were no lights and, if the Germans were not there, we thought we might be able to take shelter during the day. We approached a courtyard and there we saw some weapons. In the sheds, we heard sonorous snores. We went on very quietly, but we were glad to see how badly the Prussians kept guard. If only they had known that five well-armed Belgians were having a look round their quarters!
We continued our way and had now to go through meadows with hedges and barriers of barbed wire. Here and there were solitary houses. We came to one with a light in the window. We went some distance round in order to avoid it. Suddenly, big Jeanjean, who was ahead of us, called out:
"This way, Lieutenant, there is a good path here."
He had scarcely finished speaking when I heard a tremendous splash and the sound of a body struggling in the water. The unfortunate man had taken one of those moss-covered canals, which intersect the district, for a dry path, and had hurried forward with an eagerness worthy of a better reward. A shot was heard almost immediately. Jeanjean freed himself and came out of his bath, but bullets whizzed by our ears, as we had been discovered.
We crawled along by the wretched ditch, and we jumped over another one, and then hurried alongunder the hedges like hunted foxes, but we were followed all the time by bullets.
In front of us, at the end of a field, I saw a row of houses, but we had to be cautious, for the building on the right was the house with a light that we had been avoiding. To the left were more houses, and above them emerged a church steeple. It was a village, then, and we knew it must be St.-Gilles-Waes, which was full of Germans. I noticed a huge patch of big cabbages. We crept quickly to them and then, crouching down amongst the leaves, with our fingers on the triggers of our guns, we awaited events.
The firing gradually ceased, as the Boches had evidently lost track of us. It was necessary for us to get away from there, though, before daybreak and it was high time to start.
We came quietly out of our hiding-place, fifty yards from a sentinel, whose back was turned towards us. We had to keep quite close to the walls of farms which were swarming with the enemy. On passing in front of the house with the light, I saw a figure lean out of the window, and then the light was extinguished. The village behind us became animated and the pursuit commenced.
A hundred yards in front of us, a group of men suddenly appeared at the turn of the road. It was a patrol. We crept down an embankment and then slipped, one after the other, into a little ditch which was covered by the branches of filbert trees. The patrol passed by and disappeared.
The hour was advancing though, and day began to break. Our poor Jeanjean was shivering all over. We could not possibly think of spending the whole day like this. I saw a house, which looked verypeaceful, outside the village. Perhaps it was empty. We decided to go and find out. Under the shelter of ditches and hedges, we arrived at the back of the house. In the courtyard there were guns and bags lying about. This was ominous, but our enterprising Van Bastelaer had already crossed the fence and was quite near to it.
"Lieutenant," he said, "they are Belgian haversacks."
We hesitated a moment, and then all five of us entered the courtyard. Some of us searched the bags, whilst the others began to explore the house. I went to have a lookout from the little lane that led into the road. At the other end of it, ten yards away from me, I saw a motor-car and by it ... a German officer!
Just as I was looking at him, he turned round facing me, and our eyes met. I went back to my men, but the Boche followed me. We were only three steps away from each other, looking into each other's eyes. With a quick gesture, he drew out his pistol and took aim. I unsheathed my sword and held its point under his nose. I shall never forget what I then saw. The Prussian officer turned deadly pale. Like a flash of lightning, I saw a look of unutterable terror pass over his face and then suddenly, before I had time to strike, this man, who had held my life in his hands, turned on his heels and disappeared in the lane.
But at the same moment there was a general stir in the barns near by. Heads looked out from everywhere. This time, it was going to be a tough business. Without waiting for our change, we all sprang over the palisadings. The first one caught his foot and fell, the next one fell on him, and all five of us rolled oneover the other into the ditch, laughing in a way that must have made all the Boches in the farm wild with fury.
Facing us was an immense, open space, as flat as a glacis. There was nothing for it but to cross this. We started at full speed, but it was over ploughed land.
"I fancy this stroke of business will be the end of us!" said Snysters, gasping for breath.
"Yes," replied Jeanjean, who was breathing like a seal.
"It'll be good for your cold!" shouted little Gilissen, who was acting as our rear-guard. And all five of us, keeping up our speed, laughed heartily.
Presently we came to a road. Jeanjean rushed a little way towards us, then stopped short and muttered: "Attention, Lieutenant!" I looked and saw a German sentinel, leaning on his weapon, stationed at a little building some five yards away from us. There was no time to manœuvre; I turned to my men and, whilst running, shouted out to them "Es geht wohl! Kommen Sie hierdurch!"
We crossed the road under his very nose and rushed into a little wood which skirted the opposite side. The sentinel did not move, deceived probably, thanks to the dim light, to my words, and to the audacity of our manœuvre.
To our joy, at the other end of the wood, we saw a dark line stretching out towards us. It was the labyrinth of fir-trees, of tall broom and brushwood, which skirts the northern part of the country. We crossed a glade, and then a clearing and a railroad. The enemy post there had not time to stop us. There was another wood and then, at last, we were in thethicket. Behind us, we gradually heard less and less noise, and the firing was farther off and at longer intervals. Still running, we described a series of zigzags and curves, leaving behind us ditches, clearings, and glades.... Finally, in the midst of a patch of young fir-trees, I fell down. I could not have got up again though for anything. The others stretched themselves out near me and we all lay there, like so many dead men, in the wet grass.
The day broke, a fine rain fell persistently, wetting us through to the skin. We were shivering in every limb. Jeanjean coughed, snored, and talked in his sleep. The two Flemish men joked, swore, and insulted each other, each treating the other as a coward.... Gilissen, the little Liége "rossai," was the only one who kept silence. He was trying, conscientiously, to sleep with one eye and to take stock of our surroundings with the other one. I reminded him of that time when he had been on observation for the Barchon Fort and had remained for forty-eight hours perched up on his steeple, surrounded by Germans, and had come back to the Fort with all the material of the observation post.
Jeanjean, who certainly did not appear able to sleep well, now felt it his duty to compose themenu. "Anchovies," he said, "salmon trout, stuffed chicken, cream cakes," and I do not know what beside. I found half a turnip in my pocket, Gilissen had three sweetmeats, and the ground near us was strewn with acorns. We were all right, and could certainly sustain a regular siege!
I looked at my map, a Touring Club map, which was the only one I had. To my horror, I discovered that all the incidents of the night, and the variousturns we had been obliged to make, had made us describe an immense semi-circle and that, at that moment, we were less than a mile from the frontier and surrounded on all sides by Germans.
In the wood, the firing began again. We heard it in the distance and then nearer to us. It was an organised search. Presently, this pursuit made us a little anxious, for the bullets broke some branches near us. We were obliged to leave our shelter and we went along under cover of a deep ditch. At the end of this we came out and found ourselves—ten yards away from a group of Prussians. We rushed into a thicket and the hunt began again.
Presently there was a fresh respite for us, as quite suddenly some quick firing was heard near by in a southerly direction. It sounded like an engagement and we wondered what it could be. Perhaps it was a Belgian troop, trying, like us, to get free. Extraordinary as this supposition was, it was the only one that seemed probable. In case we were right, it was our duty to endeavour to join it, at any cost, and work together. Perhaps our unexpected intervention, insignificant though it should be, might be sufficient to decide the issue of the fight. We moved on and had scarcely gone two hundred yards, when we saw a group of peasants coming out of a glade. They looked terrified. We questioned them and found out that the Boches were firing on the houses in the village, under the pretext that the inhabitants had hidden some Belgian soldiers. The brutes! Instinctively, I moved forwards, but the bullets whizzed by, quite close to our ears. This time, they came from every side. On the left, on the right, the Germans were everywhere, the whole place swarmed with them,like a veritable ant-heap. From thicket to thicket, from ditch to ditch, we struggled along in order to avoid being surrounded. But, alas, we were going backwards and behind us was the frontier! Finally, we reached it. There was the line and that open view beyond—a hundred yards away from us was Holland! It was the only side on which Death would not mow us down. Snysters swore like a demon. We took counsel together in whispers. There were three things open to us. First, we might give ourselves up to the Germans, but we had no idea of doing that. Secondly, we might let them kill us here, on the last little corner of our native land. This was tempting, but we could not rejoin our army if we decided on it. There was one other alternative, and that was to keep close to the frontier and continue our way, endeavouring to escape the German pursuit and the Dutch sentry. This seemed to us the wisest plan of the three. We soon cleared the hundred yards. There was an iron milestone at the corner of a wood. A few steps and then we were in Holland.
Prisoners
The enemy from henceforth was the sentry, whom we had to avoid in order to continue our way. We started along a sandy road in the midst of a thick fir-wood. We had not gone a hundred yards, when we found ourselves in front of a tall Dutch Sergeant, who made a sign for us to stop. I looked all round just as a hunted beast does. In the clearing, out of which the sub-officer had stepped, I saw a multitude of soldiers, with orange-coloured stripes, walking along a road, together with civilians.
"Hang it," I said to myself, "we are in a neutral country and are bound to be polite."
I entered into conversation with the Dutchman. I endeavoured to make him understand that everyone is liable to make a mistake in the road. I apologised and, moving back, assured him that we would recross the frontier by the shortest cut possible. This did not meet with his approval, though, at all, and the great lanky fellow smiled amiably in reply to my speech and invited us, very calmly, to accompany him. We had nothing left but to obey, as we were already surrounded by soldiers, and they looked devilishly in earnest. I hid my sword under a bush and I took off my officer's insignia, to spare it shame, and in order to be less noticed myself.
When we were at the police station, we threw our guns down on a heap of plunder and then we were led away.
Disarmed and prisoners! Ah, there was no more laughing now! My four wolves, transformed against their will into lambs, were furious, and ready to gnaw their own fists. As for me, I felt myself degraded and I could have wept with shame and rage. I thought I could read in the eyes of the people, who were watching us pass by, a smile of pity and of contempt, and I was grief stricken at having exposed our uniform to such dishonour. Ah, how I regretted having crossed the fatal line! How stupid of us to have let ourselves be caught like this! Not one of us uttered a word. We did not reply to the questions we were asked. We were like feline animals, caught in a trap, looking furtively for any way of escape. It was a fixed idea with us to get back to Belgium, and we felt that we must be back there the following day.
We were put with a convoy of prisoners. How shall I describe the painful journey of that lamentable herd of men! Oh, the humiliation of that procession of soldiers without arms! On turning a street, we made off, but we were brought back. At Terneuzen, we made a second attempt to escape. Together with another comrade, who was ready to make common cause with us, we tried to get some civilian clothes. It was useless. The ready-made-clothes shops were shut and no one would supply us with any. In desperation, I placed my men in two ranks, put on my officer's insignia again, and we marched quietly towards the gate of the town. We were stopped on the way by the sentry.
"Where are you going?" we were asked.
"To Sas-de-Gand."
"What for?"
"To fetch some teams for the ambulance carriages."
"Who sent you?"
"The officer at the bridge."
Our questioner did not look thoroughly convinced.
"Forward—March!"
We did not need telling a second time. At the boundary postern, we were questioned again. As we put on a calm, assured manner and were very gruff, our stratagem succeeded again. We were now on the Selzaete main road, and in two hours we should be on Belgian soil, if all continued satisfactorily. Our feet now seemed to have wings. Half way, alas, we came across another sentry-box and here a telephonic message had been received with regard to our escape. In this land of canals and dykes, things are easy for the authorities. We were arrested and taken back to Terneuzen, between two rows of soldiers with drawnbayonets. This fresh attempt made things bad for us, and we were now considered dangerous individuals, put on to a boat, and carefully guarded. We were then sent off by water, with a group of prisoners, to an unknown destination.
It was dark and I was lying down on the bridge, although it was icy cold, looking at the stars, whilst on the coast the Quays seemed to be flying behind us. We had been sailing along for some time, and I supposed we were now in front of Flushing. There were more canals, which seemed to intersect each other endlessly. I wondered where we were going, and all night long we went on and on.
In the morning the boat stopped. On the Quay, the crowd hurried towards us and threw us bread and fruit. There was great confusion, shouting, and a regular tumult. This was the moment for us. We stepped over the netting, jumped on to the Quay, and hid ourselves in some enormous packing cases filled with manure, which were standing near. We had not been seen, so that all seemed right. The towing-boat whistled for the departure, but, unfortunately, we were too well known. Our absence was noticed, and we were once more discovered and taken on board.
For hours we continued on the water, in the immense arms of the sea and we did not stop anywhere on our way. Water, water everywhere! How should we ever escape? The first thing for us to do, evidently, was to procure some civilian clothes. On the boat, certain prisoners were already dressed as ordinary citizens. We talked to some of them quietly, and offered to exchange our uniforms for their garments.Very soon, we were wearing the finest dockers' suits imaginable. We could not help laughing to see what ruffians we looked in this fresh disguise. Snysters looked like a regular hooligan, Jeanjean wore a thread-bare flannel suit, which outlined his corpulent figure admirably. Gilissen looked like a collier and I like a miserable beggar. Rolent, our new recruit, with his soft felt hat, was the one who looked the most decent. Van Bastelaer refused obstinately to take off his uniform. It was unfortunate for him, as he was not able to get away with us.
Finally, we reached Dordrecht. The convoy was allowed to land, so that the prisoners might have a meal at the barracks. After this, we were to be taken to Groningen, in Friesland, to be interned there.
"Groningen, merciful Heavens!" we said to ourselves; "we absolutely must find a way of escape from here, as this is the last good card left in our hands."
We were placed four abreast and, between two rows of soldiers, the troop set out. The streets were full of spectators, who asked the soldiers for buttons and cartridges as keepsakes. This was just the thing for us. One of us, at the turn of a street, set to work distributing so generously that a crowd collected and there was disorder, and a break in the line of the troops. That was just what we needed and, very simply, turning half round we took our place with the crowd, and watched the procession pass, like all the other good people.
Oh, liberty! In order to relish its sweetness, we must first have been deprived of it for a time! How joyfully we went along in those narrow streets where we were quite unknown! How eagerly we discussed our plans for returning to our "free" Belgium!
The Return
We had the good luck to find a courageous Belgian boatman at Dordrecht. He put us up on his boat and provided us with the wherewithal for reaching Flushing. Once there, mingling with the refugees, we had no difficulty in passing unnoticed. We were at last on our way to Belgium: boat, train, carriages, motor-car, waggons, every kind of transport did we make use of in order to hasten our return. Our determination carried us through.
Finally, we reached the frontier and our feet were on Belgian soil. Oh bliss, no words can describe the feelings we had at that moment! It was then that I understood fully what the love of one's country really is. The very air seemed purer, the ground looked different, and we knew all the odours and the grasses which grew in the ditches by the roadside. The trees welcomed us and their branches told us over again old things that we already knew, with their familiar swayings, which awoke in the bottom of our hearts all kinds of adorable and mysterious memories. Oh, that profound life in all things, how it drank in and absorbed the life of our very souls, and with what happiness this expanded and mingled again with that other life!