CHAPTER XXVIIICHATEAU THIERRY
That was the thing—to get there!
The marines have always fought in that way. It is tradition—and their nature.
German gunners ran from their guns in face of such assaults; others tried to withdraw their guns; still others were taken in groups huddled in ravines as youth, fearful in its white rage of determination, bore down upon them and gathered them in, or, again, drove the bayonet home into gunners who stuck to their posts until the instant that forms, with eyes gleaming, leapt upon them.
With captured German machine guns, men, whom the marines farther back could not reach with food and water, held their gains, taking food and water from the American and German dead.
Although the first phase of the attack had not been fully accomplished, it was determined not to hold back the other companies, which had been waiting under shell fire that only aroused their eagerness to advance, from undertaking the second phase.
Theirs was a simpler task than that of their comrades who had stormed the woods. Artillery preparation in clearing away was, of course, more serviceable against a village than against a woods, and neither machine gun nor shell fire delayed the precision of the movement across the open to the village of Chateau Thierry itself.
But the enemy contested every step of the advance. These troops that the German general staff now hurled forward to stem the tide of the American advance were the flower of the emperor’s army—the Prussian Guards, who boasted that they had never been stopped.
But not only were they to be stopped by the impetuous daring of the Americans, but they were soon to be driven back in utter rout.
In the woods the marines were cheek by jowl with the enemy, who were slipping more machine guns into that section of the wood.
The Germans must be made to understand that the woods was the property of the Americans—that was the thought in the hearts of all the marines as they went about their work, while the Germans, on their part, began gassing the approaches both of Chateau Thierry and Belleau village.
The very irregular shape of Belleau Woods, no less than the character of the ground, favored the defenders in forming cross zones of fire. It was a strange and fierce business, there in the dense brush, where men of the same squad could not keep in touch with one another at times. Happily the marines had located some of the enemy nests before they attacked, but those farther ahead they could locate only when the Germans began firing, or when they stumbled upon gunners who were still hugging cover after the bombardment, or who simply had concluded it was better to be a live prisoner than to die for the Kaiser.
They were taken in groups and singly, taken standing behind trees and hugging the holes they had dug in the earth. Some were trying to retreat with their guns; others fled precipitately, and many continued to work their guns.
It was a hunt of man-hornet nests, with khaki the hunter and the German gray the hunted. The marines fought even more fiercely than in their first attack. They wanted to finish the job this time; and the job was to be finished soon.
The enemy, smarting under the American success, began bringing up reserves and concentrated a terrific artillery fire on the ground close to Chateau Thierry and the village itself. Chateau Thierry seemed to have become a point of honor with the Germans no less than with the Americans. They saturated it with a bombardment of yperite gas, which clings to the earth and the trees, and burns flesh that comes in contact with it.
As the Germans could hardly send their own men into this area to suffer the effects intended for the marines, the battle momentarily died down.
But it was to be resumed shortly with redoubled fury.
An hour later the Germans, with their reserves, made an attack in force. By all criterions this attack should have succeeded. Some Germans penetrated to within a short distance of the American lines and a good many of them remained there—dead.
American machine-gun fire and rifle fire drove all who escaped back toward the enemy’s lines. At the same time, under cover of their artillery, the Germans had reinforced their machine-gun units, which remained in the edge of the woods, probably thinking that as soon as the effects of the yperite were over, recovery of the woods would not be difficult.
But the German staff was doomed to disappointment.
For perhaps half an hour the battle died down again. The Germans took advantage of this lull to reform their lines just beyond Chateau Thierry and to prepare to repel an attack.
From this moment the German staff seems to have lost all desire of an offensive movement. They must have realized that the possibility of a further advance had gone a-glimmering with the defeat of the Prussian Guard in Belleau Woods. No longer would the Germans be the aggressors; it would be the Yankees, and their Allies, from this time on that would push the fighting.
The marines were now at full strength—two solid divisions, except for the losses in the early fighting—and these had been heavy. Not in the history of man had there been such a desperate charge as the marines had made there in Belleau Woods, and it was to be equalled only by the charge that was to drive the enemy from Chateau Thierry.
Officers hastily looked over the decimated troops during the brief pause, as they awaited word to advance. Though their losses had been enormous, and though it seemed impossible to advance further through the hail of shells, bullets and shrapnel that poured upon them, the marines were not daunted. Their spirit was as superb as when they had first advanced confidently to the attack. Their morale was unbroken.
To the German staff, and to the German veterans themselves, it must have been a thing of wonder the way the American marines stood to their tasks. True, they were outnumbered by the enemy, but there wasn’t a man there who stopped to think of that.
Reinforcements were on their way from the rear.
American regulars, and the French troops, broken by the first shock of the German advance, had had time to regain their lost cohesion and reform. But it was not General Bundy’s plan to await these reinforcements; he had the enemy on the run now and he was not disposed to surrender his advantage.
So, after a brief pause, he ordered the attack.
Wild cheers broke from the marines as they darted upon the enemy machine gunners and artillerymen who still clung to the edge of the woods. There was a sharp skirmish, and the Germans abandoned their guns and fled toward where other lines had been fortified just before Chateau Thierry.
The marines dashed forward on the very heels of the enemy.
Into the streets of the little village poured the Americans pell-mell. Here, under the command of their officers, the Germans braced and their resistance became stiffer.
But the men from Yankeeland were not to be denied. Absolutely disregarding the enemy machine-gun fire, that cut great gaps in their lines, they leaped forward with lowered bayonets. Steel clashed on steel as the fighting became hand-to-hand.
Here and there marines, crazed with battle, cast away their rifles and bayonets and dashed upon the enemy barehanded. Down went Germans before heavy blows from American fists. Groups of Germans gathered here and there and attempted to check the Americans. As well have tried to shut out a tornado.
The Prussian Guards, once the pride of the German army, became demoralized. Some threw down their weapons and raised their hands in token of surrender. Others turned and ran. These latter the marines pursued, making captives of some and accounting for others with their rifles and bayonets.
Fiercer and fiercer the fighting raged in the streets of the little village. From one end of the streets, the enemy covered the marines with machine guns and fired rapidly as the Americans came toward them.
But this fire had no more effect than if the Germans had been spraying the marines with water. Those who survived the terrible fire leaped over the bodies of their prostrate comrades and at the throats of the Huns.
It was more than flesh and blood could stand. The Germans turned and fled in utter rout.
But the work of the marines was not yet over. They pushed on to the edge of the village. Machine guns were hastily posted and manned and a destructive fire poured into the ranks of the fleeing enemy.
Soon the Germans reached the shelter of a distant woods, posted their own big guns and opened upon the exposed Yankee positions.
Instantly General Bundy gave the command to dig in again.
Weapons of warfare were immediately discarded by the marines for intrenching tools and the dirt began to fly. American artillery, meantime, hurled high explosive shells over the heads of the marines into the German positions beyond.
Night fell and the duel of big guns continued as the marines still dug and clawed at the ground. But before midnight the newly-won positions had been made secure. Sentinels were posted and the men at last were permitted to sleep.
Not in the history of all wars has there been a victory to equal that of the American marines in Belleau Woods and at Chateau Thierry. It was wonderful. No other word will describe it. And in its effect, the result was far reaching.
Not only did the American victory enable the hard-pressed French troops, so recently driven back by the German advance, to reform; not only did it reduce the effectiveness of the German man-power, but it shattered the morale of the whole German army. It was the greatest single blow that had been struck during the war.
No wonder the tired American marines slept the sleep of the just that night. They had been the instruments that set in motion the great offensive that was to make the world safe for Democracy.
It was a glorious day for America—the seventeenth of June, 1918!