"It was now 3 p.m., so we went back down the canal to finish off some boats which the Turks had abandoned inshore on the east bank. As the 3-pounder could not get on to these, we landed and blew up two. To get at the third boat it was necessary to go up a gully some fifty yards inland, where we could see the bow sticking up. The enemy held this bank, so, of course, we were under fire the whole time. I called for volunteers, and a sub-lieutenant and a petty officer landed with me in a dinghy. We left an A.B. in her, and darted up with our gun-cotton charge. I went ahead and got up to the boat, when I saw five Turkish soldiers on the other side about ten yards away. I stepped round the boat to have a shot at them, and fell into a trench full of Turks. You never saw any one so surprised in your life as they were, and I myself confess to a certain astonishment."I was too close to them to allow them to get their rifles on me, and, realizing that every second was of value, I gave one whoop and dived out of the trench. The sub-lieutenant shot a fellow who stuck his head over to pot me, and all three of us trekked back to the dinghy under a heavy fire at about thirty yards range. The Australian and Indian troops holding the west bank opened fire to cover our retreat, as did also the torpedo boat. It really seemed as if the air was full of lead—one long, continuous whistle overhead, and the sand all round flying up in spurts. I was still laughing from the comic expressions I had seen on the faces of the Turks in the trench; nevertheless, I got over the ground like a two-year-old. We had thirty yards to row to the torpedo boat, and, would you believe it? we all got aboard untouched. I did not blow up that boat, as I saw it had already been riddled with bullets from the other bank."
"It was now 3 p.m., so we went back down the canal to finish off some boats which the Turks had abandoned inshore on the east bank. As the 3-pounder could not get on to these, we landed and blew up two. To get at the third boat it was necessary to go up a gully some fifty yards inland, where we could see the bow sticking up. The enemy held this bank, so, of course, we were under fire the whole time. I called for volunteers, and a sub-lieutenant and a petty officer landed with me in a dinghy. We left an A.B. in her, and darted up with our gun-cotton charge. I went ahead and got up to the boat, when I saw five Turkish soldiers on the other side about ten yards away. I stepped round the boat to have a shot at them, and fell into a trench full of Turks. You never saw any one so surprised in your life as they were, and I myself confess to a certain astonishment.
"I was too close to them to allow them to get their rifles on me, and, realizing that every second was of value, I gave one whoop and dived out of the trench. The sub-lieutenant shot a fellow who stuck his head over to pot me, and all three of us trekked back to the dinghy under a heavy fire at about thirty yards range. The Australian and Indian troops holding the west bank opened fire to cover our retreat, as did also the torpedo boat. It really seemed as if the air was full of lead—one long, continuous whistle overhead, and the sand all round flying up in spurts. I was still laughing from the comic expressions I had seen on the faces of the Turks in the trench; nevertheless, I got over the ground like a two-year-old. We had thirty yards to row to the torpedo boat, and, would you believe it? we all got aboard untouched. I did not blow up that boat, as I saw it had already been riddled with bullets from the other bank."
Now we must return to the battle front in the West, and see how the Allies fared during the months of January and February. You will remember that when the year 1914 closed the rival armies were facing each other in trenches which extended over well-nigh 500 miles—from the North Sea across the flats of Flanders, through the coalfield of North France, along the ups and downs of the Oise Valley and the heights of the Aisne, through the Forest of Argonne into Lorraine, along every high valley of the Vosges, right through Alsace to within sight of Alpine snows. The cold and storms of winter had put an end to operations on a large scale, but scarcely a day passed without artillery duels and local attacks.
When General Joffre was asked to describe his operations during the winter months he replied, "We are nibbling away at them." He was not yet strong enough to pierce the German lines on a large scale, even if the weather had permitted him to do so. His policy was to wear down the Germans by provoking attacks in which they were likely to lose more men than the Allies. You know that the Germans believe in attacking, and that they consider it the best form of defence. In modern warfare the attackers always lose more men than the defenders.
Let us look for a moment at the position of the Germans in the month of January. They had overrun Belgium, and they held a very valuable part of North France; but otherwise they had made many mistakes, and had failed to accomplish what they had set out to do. They had aimed at Paris,but had never got there; they had flung away life like water to reach the Channel ports, but had failed to capture them; they had intended a short war, in which victory would be achieved before the Allies could meet them on equal terms, but they were now faced by a long struggle. Every day the Allies were bringing fresh troops into the field, and were making good their many deficiencies. Meanwhile the Germans, by their brutal treatment of the poor people who had fallen into their hands, had lost the sympathy of every civilized country.
Germany was now at the very top of her field strength. It was calculated that she was losing some 260,000 men every month, and that as time went on she would be less and less able to bring up reserves with which to repair the wastage of war. Experts declared that by the end of the year, or by the end of the following January, the supply of German reserves would fail, and the armies in the field would then begin to decline in numbers and in quality. On the other hand, the Allies had not yet come anywhere near their possible strength. The new British armies, which had been under training since September, would be ready in the spring. France was forming at least three new armies, and the Russians hoped to be able to equip their third and fourth millions and put them in the field some time in April. Great efforts were being made by the Allies to increase their artillery, and it was expected that in the early summer they would be able to strike a decisive blow. In these circumstances it was to Germany's interest to strain every nerve to win during the early months of the year.
It was thought by the Allies that the great German effort would be made in the West; but, as we shall see in later chapters, they were mistaken. The Germans launched their chief attacks against the Russians, who by the middle of the year were so woefully lacking in munitions that they were forced to retire eastwards from the Vistula for about two hundred miles; and owing to this misfortune the "big push" of the Allies in the West had to be postponed.
Now let us see what actually happened in the West during January and February. You already know that, until the new armies of the Allies were ready to take the field and the British supply of big guns and shells was greatly increased, they could do nothing but worry portions of the German front.
Such being the policy of the Allies, you will not expect to hear of big battles. The story of the fighting during January and February is the record of small things—"a sandhill won east of Nieuport, a trench or two near Ypres, a corner of a brickfield near La Bassée, a few hundred yards near Arras, a farm on the Oise, a mile in northern Champagne, a coppice in the Argonne, a hillock on the Meuse, part of a wood on the Moselle, some of the high glens in the Vosges, and a village or two in Alsace." A cartoon published in a German comic paper in January showed two French Staff officers measuring the day's advance with a footrule. No doubt the gains were small; but we must remember that our object was not so much to win ground as to take toll of the two million Germans holding the trenches, and by reducing their numbers bring the day of their exhaustion nearer.
We will begin our story with the Belgian-French forces on the Yser. They then held the bridgehead at Nieuport and the whole western bank of the river. During January the Germans fiercely shelled the chief centres in the little bit of Belgium over which King Albert still held sway.
The German right rested on the dunes fronting the sea, and their big guns amongst the sandhills had Nieuport at their mercy. On 28th January the Allies attacked the Great Dune, which lies just east of Nieuport, and managed to win a good position from which they could sweep the east bank of the Yser and protect their own left wing. Nothing else of importance happened in this section for the next two months.
On the Ypres salient, trenches were taken and retaken during January and the first fortnight of February. On the last day of February, Princess Patricia's Regiment of Canadian Light Infantry distinguished itself in a brilliant little affair. This regiment, which consisted almost entirely of old soldiers, many of whom possessed medals for previous war service, had been equipped by Mr. Hamilton Gault of Montreal. Lieutenant-Colonel F. D. Farquhar was appointed colonel, and the founder of the regiment became second in command, with the rank of major. The regiment was named after Princess Patricia, the younger daughter of the Duke of Connaught, then Governor-General of Canada.
Princess Patricia embroidered colours and presented them to the regiment on August 23, 1914, when she wished themen good luck, and said that she should follow their fortunes with deep interest. In due course the regiment, which was generally known as "Princess Pat's," arrived with the Canadian contingent at Plymouth, and after training on Salisbury Plain, where most of the men had their first experience of the rain, sleet, and slush of an English winter, was dispatched to France, where the Christmas dinners were eaten within sound of the guns. By 26th January they had become inured to the hardships of the trenches, and had already suffered casualties. On the 28th of February, when they were holding a position not far from St. Eloi, about two miles south of Ypres, the regiment was ordered to capture a German trench. The following brief account of the affair is from the pen of a corporal who took part in it:—
"On the last day of February, just before dawn, our company was ordered to attempt to force one of the German trenches. As we climbed over the parapet the enemy, by means of their magnesium flares, spotted us, and immediately opened up on us a withering machine-gun fire. We lost men—some of my best friends and comrades—but on we kept, plodding through a quagmire of mud, and when we jumped over the enemy's parapet into their trench, we had to tramp over dead men. The rest of the Huns, afraid of cold steel, fled screaming like children or went down on their knees and begged for mercy. This, in true British fashion, was granted them."
"On the last day of February, just before dawn, our company was ordered to attempt to force one of the German trenches. As we climbed over the parapet the enemy, by means of their magnesium flares, spotted us, and immediately opened up on us a withering machine-gun fire. We lost men—some of my best friends and comrades—but on we kept, plodding through a quagmire of mud, and when we jumped over the enemy's parapet into their trench, we had to tramp over dead men. The rest of the Huns, afraid of cold steel, fled screaming like children or went down on their knees and begged for mercy. This, in true British fashion, was granted them."
The attack was led with great dash and spirit by Lieutenants Crabbe and Papineau, the latter of whom received the distinguished Service Order for conspicuous gallantry on the occasion. He was in charge of bomb-throwers during the attack. He shot two of the enemy himself, and then ran along the German sap, throwing bombs into it. As soon as the news of the success became known, congratulations were poured upon the gallant fellows. They were the first of all Canadian regiments to come into prominence, and they had given ample evidence of that gallantry which was soon to be exhibited on a larger scale, and to thrill the Empire with pride.
There were other similar successes on the Ypres salient, but the almost continual rain, snow, and fogs of the latter part of February made important attacks almost impossible.
The heaviest winter fighting in the British section of the front took place in the neighbourhood of La Bassée. The German Emperor's birthday occurs on 27th January, and his soldiers were eager to present him with a success in order to commemorate the event. If you look at the map on page52, you will see to the east of the hamlet of Cuinchy, south of the canal, a district marked "Brickfields." Still further east you observe a triangle of ground bounded by three railway lines. The British 3rd Brigade was holding a sharp salient in this district. Its left rested on the canal, its centre was pushed forward towards the "railway triangle," and its right was on the road running from Bethune to La Bassée. All the ground was covered with old kilns and smoke stacks, and a few hundred yards behind our first line we had constructed a "keep" of bricks.
On 24th January the Germans shelled our position, hoping to smash the canal lock, and so flood our trenches. About six o'clock next morning a German deserter came in to our lines and warned us that an attack would be made in about half an hour. Deserters had so frequently told similar tales that we took no notice of him. The man, however, had told thetruth, and the half-hour had scarcely ended when a tremendous bombardment began. Our first-line trenches, which were held by half a battalion each of the Scots Guards and Coldstream Guards, were blown in, and before the damage could be repaired the Germans flung forward great numbers of men for an attack. After a severe tussle, in which our men used the bayonet with great effect, they were forced to fall back across the brickfields. The London Scottish and the 1st Camerons, with the remainder of the Coldstream and Scots Guards, were ordered up to hold the second line. These troops fought hard, and punished the Germans severely with rifle and machine-gun fire; but so numerous were the attackers that they managed to get in amongst the brick stacks and into the communication trenches on both sides of the "keep," and even to the west of it.
Much-needed reinforcements were pushed forward, and at one o'clock a counter-attack was begun. Together with the French on their right, our troops moved forward in short, swift rushes, taking cover behind piles of bricks or lying close on the soggy ground. Good progress was made on the flanks, but the centre could not advance. Late in the afternoon another battalion was sent up in support, and the struggle continued throughout the night. By the morning of the 26th we had cleared out the enemy between the "keep" and our trenches, and had partially recovered the ground lost in the morning. The Germans had paid heavily for their trifling gain. Fifty-three prisoners were captured, and over a thousand German dead strewed the brickfields.
Meanwhile an equally severe fight was going on north of the canal. The Germans heavily bombarded the coveted village of Givenchy, which we had held ever since the second week of the preceding October. At 8.15 they swarmed out of their trenches, passed over our front trenches, and broke into the village, where a furious struggle raged in the streets and in the houses for more than an hour. "Our men," says Eye-witness, "in many cases fought with bayonets in their hands, and even knocked out many Germans with their fists. A story is told of one man who broke into a house held by eight Germans. He bayoneted four, and captured the rest, while he continued to suck at a clay pipe."
Five separate times the Germans attacked the north-east corner of Givenchy, but each time they were driven back with great loss. "On the whole," continues Eye-witness, "the 25th January was a bad day for the enemy in this portion of their line." The German birthday gift to the Kaiser was a heap of his own dead.
For the next ten days the struggle continued. On the 29th the Germans again attacked south of the canal, and tried to get into the "keep" by means of scaling ladders, but were beaten off with severe losses. On 1st February, very early in the morning, the Coldstreams were driven from their trenches south of the canal, and two counter-attacks failed to recover them. As the light grew better, our artillery came into action, and so accurate a fire was kept up on the lost trenches that the Germans could not hold them. At ten o'clock fifty men of the 2nd Coldstreams and thirty men of the Irish Guards, along with sappers carrying sandbags and barbed wire, rushed forward, and not only recovered the lost trenches, but seized one of the enemy's posts on the embankment of the canal. It was during this attack that Lance-Corporal Michael O'Leary won the Victoria Cross by a remarkable feat of gallantry which will be described in the next chapter.
"Our men," says Eye-witness, "were enabled to take in flank one of the enemy's trenches to the south, and they fought their way along it, throwing hand grenades, until they dislodged the Germans from a considerable length. We thus established ourselves firmly in a good position on the canal bank and in the adjoining trenches. During the action we captured fourteen prisoners and two machine guns, also many wounded. Our losses were not severe, but the enemy suffered heavily, especially from our artillery fire. . . . Our men were in excellent spirits after the encounter, and on being relieved somewhat later, marched back to their billets singing to the accompaniment of mouth organs and the roar of guns."
"Our men," says Eye-witness, "were enabled to take in flank one of the enemy's trenches to the south, and they fought their way along it, throwing hand grenades, until they dislodged the Germans from a considerable length. We thus established ourselves firmly in a good position on the canal bank and in the adjoining trenches. During the action we captured fourteen prisoners and two machine guns, also many wounded. Our losses were not severe, but the enemy suffered heavily, especially from our artillery fire. . . . Our men were in excellent spirits after the encounter, and on being relieved somewhat later, marched back to their billets singing to the accompaniment of mouth organs and the roar of guns."
About 2 p.m. on the night of the 5th-6th February the British and French artillery turned their heavy howitzers on the "railway triangle," and began a fierce bombardment. The boom of the guns and the roar of the exploding shells were clearly heard twenty miles away, and to those near at hand the noise was terrific. One lyddite shell blew a house bodily into the air; while others, exploding amongst the brick stacks, wrought awful havoc amongst the enemy. At 2.15 a.m. an attack was launched at a strong position held by the Germans amidst stacks of bricks. Our storming columns rushed the position from three sides at once, and captured it with very little loss. Prisoners afterwards said that the noise of the bursting shells, and the thick clouds of dust which arose, prevented them from hearing or seeing our men until they were almost upon them. Other trenches were captured, and the next day the Germans tried hard to recover the lost ground. Our gunners, however, were too much for them, and succeeded in destroying one of their heavy batteries.
I have told you the story of these small fights to give you an idea of how the "nibbling" process was carried on. Dozens of similar encounters took place in various parts of our line, and in all of them the Germans lost more heavily than we did. You will notice that early in February our artillery was able to compete with that of the Germans. Every day more and more big guns and more and more shells were sent to the front. The time was soon to arrive when a big combined effort could be made to pierce the German line.
You are now to read some soldiers' stories of the fighting during the winter months. The first story tells how Algerian horsemen, by a skilful ruse, managed to get a footing in the Great Dune[6]between the Ostend road and the sea.
One morning six fine Arab horses strayed, as though by accident, between the French and German lines. The Germans did not fire on the horses, because they hoped to capture them when they came sufficiently near to their trenches. The animals, however, wandered off again. Towards nightfall on the following day twenty-four Arab horses appeared on the same ground. In the half light the Germans could only just distinguish the forms of the animals, and perceive that they were unmounted. They were preparing to seize them when suddenly a sharp cry was heard, and the horses, kicking up their heels, galloped back to the French lines.
Almost immediately twenty-four gray forms rose from the ground and dashed towards the German trench. They were Algerians, who had concealed themselves under the bodies of their horses, and had thus got close to the German line. They rushed upon the enemy, and a furious struggle took place. The Germans in the second line dared not fire for fear of shooting their own comrades. The Algerians managed to get a footing in the German trench, and shortly afterwards French infantrymen rushed up to their support. By ten in the evening a portion of the Great Dune had been won.
"Sniping" went on almost continuously during the winter. A Canadian officer thus describes his adventures while scouting in front of the German trenches:—
"Off I went, crawling through the sodden clay and branches, going about a yard a minute, listening and looking. I went out to the right of our lines, where the Germans were nearest. At last I saw the Hun trench. It was about ten yards from me. I waited for a long time, and then I heard some Germans talking, and saw one of them put his head up over some bushes behind the trench. I could not get a shot at him, as I was too low down. Of course, I could not get up; so I crawled on again, very slowly, to the parapet of their trench.
"It was exciting. I peered through their loophole, but saw nobody in the trench. Then the German behind put up his head again. He was laughing and talking. I saw his teeth glisten against my foresight, and I pulled the trigger. He just gave a grunt and crumpled up. His comrades behind the bushes got up, and whispered to each other. There were five of them. They could not place the shot. I was flat behind their parapet, and hidden. I just had the nerve not to move a muscle and stay there; my heart was fairly hammering. They did not advance, so I crept back, inch by inch.
"The next day, just before dawn, I crawled out there again, and found the trench still empty. Then a single German came through the woods towards the trench. I saw him fifty yards off. He was coming along upright, quite carelessly, making a great noise. I heard him before I saw him. I let him get within twenty-five yards, and then shot him.
"Nothing happened for ten minutes. Then there were noise and talking, and a lot of Germans came along through the wood behind the trench, about forty yards from me. I counted about twenty, and there were more coming. They halted in front. I picked out the one I thought was the officer. I had a steady shot at him. He went down, and that was all I saw.
"I went back at a sort of galloping crawl to our lines, and sent a message that the Germans were moving in a certain direction in some numbers. Half an hour afterwards they attacked the right in massed formation, advancing slowly to within ten yards of our trenches. We simply mowed them down. It was rather horrible. There were 200 of them dead in a little bit of our line, and we only lost ten.
"Our boys were rather pleased at my stalking and getting the message through. All our men have started stalking now. It is quite a popular amusement."
"Princess Pat's Own" first went into the firing line on 5th January. The trenches in which they received their baptism of fire were only about a hundred yards away from those of the Germans, who subjected them to a very heavy bombardment. About the second or third night three of the men established themselves during the darkness on a mound a little to the rear of the Canadian position. They cut a couple of dug-outs in the base of the mound, and fortified the top with a few bricks, behind which they took cover. At daybreak they discovered that they commanded a very fine view of the German first-line trench, and of its supporting or reserve dug-outs, which were occupied by the Prussian Guard. There was no shell fire from the British at the time, and the Germans, thinking themselves quite safe, were strolling about between the dug-outs and the trench. The "three musketeers" on the mound opened a brisk fire on the Germans; whereupon they scuttled off to their holes like rabbits, but not before nine or ten of them lay on the ground, wounded or killed. All day long the men on the mound were under every kind of fire, but they "stuck it" without flinching, and in their turn kept the enemy from as much as showing a finger. When darkness fell they retired to their trenches. Only one of the men was hurt, and he had only a slight bullet wound in the hand.
Here is a strange story of how some British soldiers foolishly and recklessly risked their lives in order to settle a bet.
"Fighting had been very severe in front of one section, and during a lull an officer was surprised to see a number of khaki-clad figures fully exposed to the German bullets, should the enemy resume firing. They were peering into the trench, and were so deeply interested in what was 'down below' that they did not notice the officer's approach.
"'What have you got there?' he asked.
"'A dead German, sir,' came the reply.
"'A dead German! What on earth are you doing with a dead German?'
"Then he was told the whole story. It appeared that in the course of the attack the British soldiers had noticed a particularly tall and bulky Hun. When the fighting was over they began to discuss his proportions. He was now lying dead in front of the trench, and two of the men made a bet about his height and weight. To settle the bet, they crawled out and risked death in order to drag the dead German in. He was found to be six feet nine inches in height, and to have a waist measurement of fifty-three inches.
"The officer gave the men a severe warning, and then asked how much the bet was. To his amazement he received the following reply: 'A bob, sir!'"
In a dispatch published by Sir John French during February he regretted that it was impossible for him to bring before the notice of the public many acts of gallantry performed by his men. Here is an account of a very brave deed done by a sergeant-major in the North Somerset Yeomanry; the story is told by a corporal of the same regiment:—
"I had a marvellous escape. A German bomb fell in the trench barely a foot from me. I did not see it coming, and nothing could have saved me, or Dick Moody, or the other fellows with us, had not Sergeant-Major Reeves made a dash for it. He picked up the bomb, pulled out the fuse, and threw it out of the trench. It was the bravest thing I have ever seen."
Later on, when our men became more used to grenade fighting, such incidents were of almost everyday occurrence. Over and over again men pounced upon live bombs, and hurled them back towards the enemy's trenches before they had time to explode.
On one part of our line the trenches of friend and foe were so close to each other, and they changed hands so often, that it was difficult to know at any particular moment whether they were held by British or by Germans. One night, after a fight, two British officers set out to discover whether certain trenches were occupied by their own men or by those of the enemy. They soon chanced upon a communication trench which seemed to lead in the desired direction. They walked down it, and came to a dug-out with a candle burning in it and German equipment scattered about. Thinking that the communication trench had been captured, they blew out the candle and pushed on. At length they reached a trench running at right angles to the communication trench. No sooner had they entered it than they were challenged sharplyin German. Then came a shower of bullets, and in a moment the officers were rushing back by the way which they had come, with Germans close upon their heels. They floundered through the mud and dodged round the traverses, and, thanks to the darkness, managed to get back to their own lines unhurt, where they told their comrades how they had spent several breathless minutes in the enemy's fire trenches.
Now I must give you an account of one of the most striking deeds of gallantry ever performed by a British soldier. TheGazetteof 18th February contained an announcement that the Victoria Cross had been awarded to
Lance-Corporal Michael O'Leary, 1st Battalion Irish Guards, for an achievement of such a character that, according to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, "no writer of fiction would dare to fasten it on any of his characters."
At sixteen years of age O'Leary joined the Navy, but was discharged because he suffered with rheumatism. He soon recovered, however, and enlisted in the Irish Guards. After serving his time with the colours and passing into the reserve, he was accepted as a member of the famous North-West Mounted Police of Canada. The hard open-air life was much to his liking. All the patrol work was done on horseback, and he rode on an average thirty miles a day. As a North-West mounted policeman, O'Leary gave a taste of his cool courage in capturing two robbers, armed with revolvers, after a running fight which lasted two hours. For this feat he was presented with a gold ring, which he still proudly wears. The donor of it must have been a prophet, for he said to O'Leary when handing it over, "If you do as well on active service, you will win the Victoria Cross." At the outbreak of war O'Leary rejoined his old regiment in France. He was not then twenty-five years of age.
I am sure you remember the occasion when the Coldstreams were driven from their trenches near Cuinchy, and two counter-attacks failed to recover them. At ten in the morning of 1st February a desperate effort to win them back was made by fifty men of the 2nd Coldstream Guards and thirty men of the Irish Guards, accompanied by sappers with wire and sand-bags. The Coldstreams went first. With fixed bayonets they rushed across the 200 yards that separated them from the German trenches. They were met by a heavy fire, which checked them a little; and then the Irish Guards went forward in support. O'Leary, fleet of foot, outdistanced his comrades. He had not gone far before he felt the ground give beneath his feet, and springing back, he saw a German bomb-thrower in a pit. He shot the man, and hurrying on to the angle of a barricade which he had marked all day, fired five shots and killed the five Germans who were holding it. Leaving his comrades to take possession of the barricade, he dashed towards a second position, sixty yards ahead, where a machine-gun section was frantically trying to turn its weapon upon the stormers. O'Leary, however, was too quick for them. A German officer had his finger on the button of the gun, and was about to release the hail of lead, when "crack" went our hero's rifle, and the officer dropped dead. Again and again O'Leary fired, and two other men fell, while their comrades, with white, scared faces, threw up their hands and begged for mercy. A few moments later and the Guards, with a wild rush through the flying mud, secured the position. "Lance-Corporal O'Leary thus practically captured the enemy's position himself, and prevented the rest of the attacking party from being fired on." He was promoted sergeant on the field.
Sergeant O'Leary, V.C., had a great reception when he returned to London in July on leave. A demonstration was held in Hyde Park by the United Irish League, and the hero, who was presented with a purse of gold, made a recruiting speech, in the course of which he said, "There are many others who have fought and are fighting, who have attempted and have done more than I for King and country. I have had the luck." In his own country the sergeant was enthusiastically received, and was so lionized that he said he must get back to the trenches to rest. At a banquet to his honour in his native county he asked for lemonade, and when some one thoughtlessly pressed him to take wine, he refused, and said that he must "keep fit." Not only did he receive the Victoria Cross at the hands of the King, but the highest awards for valour from the French and the Russian Government.
In this British book, written for British boys and girls, I naturally give the foremost place to the doings of British soldiers. We must, however, always remember that up to the middle of the year the British only held about one-twentieth of the Western battle-front. From La Bassée, through Arras, to Noyon, thence eastwards along the valley of the Aisne, in a wide curve round the fortress of Verdun, to the west bank of the Meuse, onwards to the Moselle, through Lorraine to the crests of the Vosges, and southwards to the borders of Switzerland—all this long and varied line was held by our French Allies. All through January and February they did not cease to nibble at the German trenches. In Champagne, in the section between the Meuse and the Moselle, and in Alsace, they were able to do more than nibble—they were able to seize many vantage points, and advance their front slowly but surely.
In January the chief centre of interest was in that part of the Aisne valley which lies to the north of the old city of Soissons.[7]You will remember that the Allies had captured the city, and the flat lands to the north of it, during the great advance in September 1914. Turn to the map on the next page and find the village of Cuffies.[8]On 18th January this village was in French hands, and so was the village of Crouy,[9]to the east of it. On the road from Soissons to Laon, and between Cuffies and Crouy, you will notice a spur of the plateau marked Hill 132.[10]To the south-east of Crouy there is another spur, marked 151. On 8th January the French made attacks on both these hills. They specially wished to capture Hill 132, because it would give them a gun position from which they could command the road to Laon.
In the drenching rain the French pushed forward, dragging their guns with great difficulty up the slippery slope. They carried three lines of German trenches, and were soon in possession of the hill. Meanwhile other troops had seized Hill 151. Though the Germans tried hard to recover the positions next day, they could not do so. Nothing happened on Sunday, 9th January; but on Monday, about noon, no less than two German corps, under von Kluck, were launched against the French, who were holding the hills. On the 12th the struggle grew very violent. The French were pushed off the eastern side of Hill 132, but with great difficulty they managed to cling to the western slopes.
During the four preceding days the weather had been very bad. Torrents of rain had descended without ceasing, and by the 12th the river was in high flood. It had been rising for days, and now it was swirling along like an angry torrent, threatening to carry away the only bridges by which the French could bring up reinforcements and ammunition. By the 13th all the bridges but two had been swept away, and the French decided to retreat across the river while they had the means of doing so.
They retired slowly and skilfully. Their batteries were withdrawn from the hills one by one, without letting the Germans know that they were being moved to the rear. The commander of one battery did not give the order to retire until the Germans were within five hundred yards of him. It was perilous and difficult work getting the guns down the steep slope. The gunners man-handled them until they reached the foot, and then they were limbered up and taken across a shaky pontoon bridge which had been thrown across the river at Missy. Guns on the right and centre had to be abandoned, but not before they were rendered useless.
By the evening of the 14th the Germans had advanced their line until they held the whole of the north bank of the Aisne from a mile east of Soissons to Missy. By this time the French, who only numbered 12,000, had been reduced to half their strength, and they had lost about twenty guns. Von Kluck had begun well, and, under the eye of the Kaiser, he now made a great effort to capture Soissons. Had he done so, he would have been in possession of a railway junction and the best bridge over the Aisne. He would also have been able to force the French to retire from the whole line of the river.
The floods had not reached Soissons, so the French were able to pour reinforcements into the city. A great struggle took place at the village of St. Paul, on the right bank of the river, about a mile to the east of Soissons. The Germans advanced in dense masses, and won the village; but the French artillery speedily drove them out, and von Kluck found that he could advance no further.
The Germans trumpeted abroad this little success as a smashing victory; but it was of no particular consequence, for they had only slightly improved their position, and in doing so had suffered a loss of at least 10,000 men. It was not so much German guns and rifles that drove the French from the spurs which they had won as the flooding of the river. Nature had fought for the Germans, but still they could not "make good." Some writers thought that it was very clever of von Kluck to postpone his big counter-attack until his enemies had a swollen river and flooded fields behind them; but the fact was that he could not attack earlier, because his reinforcements were late in arriving. The Germans owed their success not to good generalship, but to good luck.
We now come to that part of the French front on which the most successful attempts of the Allies were made during January and February. You have already heard of the little river Suippe, a tributary of the Aisne. Between the upper waters of this river and the Forest of the Argonne there is a chalk plain, dotted with plantations of firs and crossed by rolling downs. In many respects it resembles Salisbury Plain, and for many years has been put to the same use. Before the war it was the great training ground of French troops and the scene of their yearly manoeuvres. The plain is sparsely populated; scattered farms and straggling homesteads are few and far between, and lack of villages means lack of roads. After heavy rain the whole district is a sea of shallow mud; but the ground does not become water-logged, and as soon as the rain ceases the ground dries very quickly. Operations during the winter were therefore possible. General Joffre decided to nibble more vigorously on this plain than elsewhere.
Look at the little map on page70. You notice a railway running from Ste. Menehould,[11]on the Aisne at the edge of the Argonne forest, to Rheims. By means of this railway the French troops operating on the plain were supplied with all their needs. The Germans relied on the line which you see running from Grand Pré in the Argonne to Bazancourt. The object of the French was to nibble at the German lines in the hope of pushing back the enemy and seizing this railway. If it could be cut or commanded, the Germans would be obliged to fall back along their whole line. At any rate, a French advance towards the railway would compel the enemy to waste men and shells, and would force him to keep in the region large forces which otherwise would have been sent to the East, where von Hindenburg was badly in need of assistance.
I want you to fix your attention on the little towns of Souain[12]and Perthes,[13]and the farm of Beau Séjour,[14]all of which are marked on the map. Beau Séjour, you will notice, is about 3½ miles east of Perthes. At the beginning of January the French line ran through Souain, south of Perthes and south of Beau Séjour. Almost every day during January the French attacked the German positions. They won a hill to the north of Perthes, which gave them the best gun position in the neighbourhood, and on the 16th of February a general advance began. The Germans held a strong post north of the farm, on a ridge between two little glens. On this ridge they had constructed a fort, which was held by about 500 men.
The French attacked on a plan which was soon to become the regular method of puncturing the German lines all along the Western front. Let me give you some account of this plan—the only possible method of capturing the strongly fortified trenches of the enemy without a terrible loss of life. As you know, the first obstacle to an attack on a line of trenches consists of the barbed wire entanglements which are fixed up in front of them. The attackers are held up by the network of wire, and can be shot down in droves by rifles and machine guns. Then the trench itself has a strong parapet, with loopholes through which the defenders fire on the attackers. For infantry to charge the barbed wire while the parapets are held by an enemy is to court almost certain disaster.
Study the diagram on page67.ABis a line of trenches to be attacked, andXis a line of big guns. These guns throw a shower of high explosive shells on to the enemy's trenches. So terrible is the explosion that the barbed wire is blown into a thousand fragments, the parapets are beaten down, the whole trench is utterly wrecked, and the defenders are either killed or wounded, or so stunned by the violence of the bombardment that they cannot make much resistance. When this is done, the gunners lift their sights and lengthen their fuses, and behind the trench create at C a curtain of fire through which no enemy reinforcements can possibly pass. Then the attacking infantry rush forward and occupy the wreckedtrench. They work away with their entrenching tools, make a new parapet facing the enemy's second line of trenches, and prepare to beat off counter-attacks. Trenches are thus captured by gun fire alone. You can easily understand that advances made in this way will be slow. Telephone wires have to be laid, ranges calculated, and a thousand details arranged before an assault can be made.