Allenby's cavalry made several gallant charges, and so did Chetwode's 5th Cavalry Brigade, consisting of the Scots Greys, the 12th Lancers, and the 20th Hussars. An officer tells us that they went through the enemy "like blotting paper." Though the German cavalry were big men and well mounted, they could not stand before the onset of our horsemen.
Upon our gunners fell the heaviest task of all. They were hopelessly outmatched by at least four to one; yet they made a splendid fight, and inflicted great losses on the foe, though they suffered terribly both in men and horses. German shells frequently smashed gun carriages and wheels to matchwood, and strewed the ground with dead and mangled men. Some of the most heroic deeds ever known were done by our gunners that day. In one battery, towards the end of the fight a single gun remained with only one lieutenant and a man to work it. Nevertheless, they stuck to their posts, and fought their gun to the last.
The terrible day was wearing on; our men were holding their own, but at a great sacrifice of life and limb. While the Germans were making their frontal attacks, large bodies of their cavalry, infantry, and artillery were sweeping round both flanks, and the new Sedan was hourly expected. Unless the whole British force was to be wiped out, it must retreat; so about 3.30 in the afternoon Sir John gave the order, and the rearward movement was begun. It was full of danger, and while it was in progress our losses were very heavy.
The artillery now made a great effort to cover the retreat, and by almost superhuman exertions managed to hold off the enemy while the infantry drew back. Then came the turn of the guns to retire, and to cover them Allenby's cavalry flung itself against the enemy in a series of furious charges. Several Victoria Crosses were gloriously won at this stage of the battle. Thanks to the artillery and the cavalry, all that was left of the Second Corps got away, and without resting dragged itself southwards through the August night.
I am sure you will be interested to know what a German officer thought of our gallant men during this anxious and perilous time. Here is a report of his conversation with a Dane:—
"After we had broken through the French positions on the Belgian frontier, and had got Joffre's army on the move towards the south, the German army's advance appeared to be checked. It was General French's army that had stayed the retreat. We ordered the English lines to be stormed. Our troops dashed into them with fixed bayonets, but our efforts to drive the English back were in vain. They are very good at resisting a bayonet attack. The English are strong people, athletic and well-developed. So we decided to shoot them down; but we found that they aimed remarkably well. 'Every bullet found its billet,' as they say."We ordered our best shots to tackle them, but the result was not in our favour. Then we got all our artillery at work that could be spared against them. We swept the English positions with a rain of shells—a regular bombardment. When the firing ceased, we expected to find that the English had fled. . . . We had not heard from them for an hour."How can I describe our astonishment? Beyond the shell-swept zone we saw English soldiers' heads moving, and they began to use their rifles again as soon as the coast was clear. The Englisharea cool lot! We had to assault them again and again, but in vain. We were, in fact, repulsed after having actually surrounded them. Their perseverance and pluck had gained their just reward. Their retirement could now be carried out in an orderly way. There was now no fear of disaster to the retreating army."Even the sight of the wounded surprised us, and commanded our respect; they lay so still, and scarcely ever complained."
"After we had broken through the French positions on the Belgian frontier, and had got Joffre's army on the move towards the south, the German army's advance appeared to be checked. It was General French's army that had stayed the retreat. We ordered the English lines to be stormed. Our troops dashed into them with fixed bayonets, but our efforts to drive the English back were in vain. They are very good at resisting a bayonet attack. The English are strong people, athletic and well-developed. So we decided to shoot them down; but we found that they aimed remarkably well. 'Every bullet found its billet,' as they say.
"We ordered our best shots to tackle them, but the result was not in our favour. Then we got all our artillery at work that could be spared against them. We swept the English positions with a rain of shells—a regular bombardment. When the firing ceased, we expected to find that the English had fled. . . . We had not heard from them for an hour.
"How can I describe our astonishment? Beyond the shell-swept zone we saw English soldiers' heads moving, and they began to use their rifles again as soon as the coast was clear. The Englisharea cool lot! We had to assault them again and again, but in vain. We were, in fact, repulsed after having actually surrounded them. Their perseverance and pluck had gained their just reward. Their retirement could now be carried out in an orderly way. There was now no fear of disaster to the retreating army.
"Even the sight of the wounded surprised us, and commanded our respect; they lay so still, and scarcely ever complained."
I think you will agree with me that the German who paid this tribute to our men was a generous foe and a true soldier.
Here is an extract from the diary of a cavalry officer of the 3rd Cavalry Brigade. It gives you an excellent idea of the way in which the cavalry covered the retreat.
"Up and ready to move off at 4.30 a.m. Moved back to Le Cateau. Did not enter the actual town, but went round the high ground to the south of it, and took up a position on the west of it. Great battle going on. Fifth Infantry Division having a bad time of it, and retiring. We cover their retirement. My squadron on high ground overlooking a railway embankment. See German infantry advancing towards it in columns. G.O.C.,[53]on my reporting this, sends me a section of guns under 'John' G. Pointed out target to him, which he picks up and gets the range at once; smartest bit of R.H.A.[54]work one could wish to see. . . . Every shot seems to have effect. I was carefully watching through my glasses; they must have lost at least a couple of hundred. I could see their dead and wounded lying all over the field. Anyhow, they stopped their advance in that direction, and our infantry opposing them were enabled to get away. Awfully impressed with the way this section of R.H.A. was handled by 'John' G. . . ."We retire in a westerly direction, and manoeuvre on the flank of the 5th Infantry Division. Late in the afternoon we see in the distance a division of Uhlans. The general tells us he has decided to take them on; but we shall charge at the trot, as our horses are dead beat. We, the 3rd Cavalry Brigade, manoeuvre and get the favourable ground; and the Uhlans, after having a look at us, refuse the fight we offer and disappear. Cowards! Fancy a division refusing to take on a brigade! Great disappointment among all ranks, as we are all longing for a cavalry fight. . . ."We retire to ——, where we arrive about 11 p.m., and halt to water and feed the horses. Get some food. Every one awfully tired—raining hard. The orders come that we are to march at 1 a.m. Explain to the men we are in rather a tight place, and that in spite of fatigue every one must buck up. Men lie down on the pavements and hold their horses. What a sight! Men and horses absolutely exhausted, but yet there is that spirit of cheerfulness which never fails Tommy Atkins even under such conditions as these. It is apparent to every one that we have taken the I 'knock;' with most armies one would say beaten, but with Tommy Atkins you can't say that, as it would not be true, as the only way to defeat him is to kill him; otherwise, he just goes on suffering every hardshipwithouta grumble, and then, when you think he is absolutely done, he turns round and hits you. People at home don't realize and understand what heroes the men are—brave, suffering every hardship without a grumble, loyal, and in the highest sense true, typical Britons."
"Up and ready to move off at 4.30 a.m. Moved back to Le Cateau. Did not enter the actual town, but went round the high ground to the south of it, and took up a position on the west of it. Great battle going on. Fifth Infantry Division having a bad time of it, and retiring. We cover their retirement. My squadron on high ground overlooking a railway embankment. See German infantry advancing towards it in columns. G.O.C.,[53]on my reporting this, sends me a section of guns under 'John' G. Pointed out target to him, which he picks up and gets the range at once; smartest bit of R.H.A.[54]work one could wish to see. . . . Every shot seems to have effect. I was carefully watching through my glasses; they must have lost at least a couple of hundred. I could see their dead and wounded lying all over the field. Anyhow, they stopped their advance in that direction, and our infantry opposing them were enabled to get away. Awfully impressed with the way this section of R.H.A. was handled by 'John' G. . . .
"We retire in a westerly direction, and manoeuvre on the flank of the 5th Infantry Division. Late in the afternoon we see in the distance a division of Uhlans. The general tells us he has decided to take them on; but we shall charge at the trot, as our horses are dead beat. We, the 3rd Cavalry Brigade, manoeuvre and get the favourable ground; and the Uhlans, after having a look at us, refuse the fight we offer and disappear. Cowards! Fancy a division refusing to take on a brigade! Great disappointment among all ranks, as we are all longing for a cavalry fight. . . .
"We retire to ——, where we arrive about 11 p.m., and halt to water and feed the horses. Get some food. Every one awfully tired—raining hard. The orders come that we are to march at 1 a.m. Explain to the men we are in rather a tight place, and that in spite of fatigue every one must buck up. Men lie down on the pavements and hold their horses. What a sight! Men and horses absolutely exhausted, but yet there is that spirit of cheerfulness which never fails Tommy Atkins even under such conditions as these. It is apparent to every one that we have taken the I 'knock;' with most armies one would say beaten, but with Tommy Atkins you can't say that, as it would not be true, as the only way to defeat him is to kill him; otherwise, he just goes on suffering every hardshipwithouta grumble, and then, when you think he is absolutely done, he turns round and hits you. People at home don't realize and understand what heroes the men are—brave, suffering every hardship without a grumble, loyal, and in the highest sense true, typical Britons."
The fateful day had passed; the little British army, though its ranks were sorely thinned, was still unbroken and undefeated. Smith-Dorrien's corps had made a stand which will go down to history as a triumph of valour and endurance. It had resisted an army that outnumbered it by ten to one, and it had handled it very roughly indeed. All honour to the men who fought and died at Le Cateau that day, and all honour to the cool, determined, and unconquerable general who commanded them! Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien has written his name high on the scroll of fame, and henceforth he stands in our annals side by side with Sir John Moore[55]of undying memory. His proud boast is that he saved the left wing of the British army, and by doing so made the German conquest of France impossible.
Sir John French tells us that the retreat was continued far into thenight of the 26th and through the 27th and 28th. The cavalry officer quoted above gives us a vivid picture of the weariness of his men and horses, and from the stories of others who took part in the retreat we learn that it was just as trying as the battle itself. The night was black dark, the rain was falling heavily, and the narrow roads were choked with guns, transport, and infantry. The men had to be shaken out of their sleep, but once on their feet they marched steadily.
"There was never a halt nor a pause, though horses dropped between the shafts, and men sat down exhausted by the roadside. A heavy gun overturned in a ditch, but it was impossible to stay and get it out; so it was rendered useless, and the disconsolate gunners trekked on. When the horses could draw their loads no longer, the loads were cast by the roadside. . . . I cannot give a connected account of that night. The overpowering desire for sleep, the weariness and ache of every fibre, and the thirst! I had forgotten to be hungry, and had got past food; but I thirsted as I have only thirsted once before, and that was in the desert near Khartum."
"There was never a halt nor a pause, though horses dropped between the shafts, and men sat down exhausted by the roadside. A heavy gun overturned in a ditch, but it was impossible to stay and get it out; so it was rendered useless, and the disconsolate gunners trekked on. When the horses could draw their loads no longer, the loads were cast by the roadside. . . . I cannot give a connected account of that night. The overpowering desire for sleep, the weariness and ache of every fibre, and the thirst! I had forgotten to be hungry, and had got past food; but I thirsted as I have only thirsted once before, and that was in the desert near Khartum."
On moved the columns, almost at the last gasp, but still undaunted and bent on winning through. When the dreadful night was over, and dawn broke over the hills, men looked at each other and marvelled at the change wrought in their appearance by the terrible experiences which they had undergone. They were as worn and gaunt as though they were recovering from a serious illness.
Let me tell you a little story, to show the splendid self-restraint of our men even when they were suffering agonies of thirst.
"Soon after sunrise," says an officer, "we came up with two of our ambulance wagons and one of our filter water-carts. The wounded were in such a state of exhaustion with the long trek and the awful jolting of the wagons that it was decided to make some beef-tea for them, and a major rode ahead to find some farm where water could be boiled. He had hardly gone when a battalion of exhausted infantry came up, and as soon as they saw the water-carts made a dash for them. Hastily I rode up to them, and told them that there was very little water left in the carts, and that it was needed for their wounded comrades. 'I am thirsty myself,' I said, 'and I am awfully sorry for you chaps; but you see how it is—the wounded must come first.'"'Quite right, sir,' was the ready response. 'Didn't know it was a hospital water-cart;' and, without a murmur, they went thirsty on their way."
"Soon after sunrise," says an officer, "we came up with two of our ambulance wagons and one of our filter water-carts. The wounded were in such a state of exhaustion with the long trek and the awful jolting of the wagons that it was decided to make some beef-tea for them, and a major rode ahead to find some farm where water could be boiled. He had hardly gone when a battalion of exhausted infantry came up, and as soon as they saw the water-carts made a dash for them. Hastily I rode up to them, and told them that there was very little water left in the carts, and that it was needed for their wounded comrades. 'I am thirsty myself,' I said, 'and I am awfully sorry for you chaps; but you see how it is—the wounded must come first.'
"'Quite right, sir,' was the ready response. 'Didn't know it was a hospital water-cart;' and, without a murmur, they went thirsty on their way."
All night long the Germans pressed closely on the British rear, and they were able to capture stragglers and detachments that had missed their way. Amongst these was a battalion of Gordon Highlanders who had taken the wrong road. Between one and two o'clock in the morning, when they were marching down a narrow lane, they were fired at from the left. They were under the impression that they had been fired on accidentally by the French, whom they supposed to be near at hand. They were mistaken. Dark shadowy masses of the enemy closed around them and attacked them in front, rear, and flanks. The Gordons made a gallant resistance, but in vain. They were shot down in heaps, and in a few minutes all were killed, wounded, or prisoners.
Still the British army dragged its slow length along the belt of low upland on which the Scheldt and the Sambre take their rise, and on Thursday morning, August 28, arrived a little to the north of St. Quentin,[56]which stands on rising ground on the right bank of the Somme. By this time the weight of the enemy's pursuit had been shaken off, and the wearied men could rest for a time in safety. The four days' battle, which began at noon on Sunday, 23rd August, had ended. The British army had emerged with fresh laurels from a great ordeal.
From what you have read in the two previous chapters you will gather that, during the four days' battle which was fought between Mons and St. Quentin, incident crowded upon incident. You may be sure that our soldiers had much to say of their experiences when they wrote home, or when they arrived on this side of the Channel to nurse their honourable wounds. Before, however, I tell you some of their stories, let us learn what happened at Tournai. You will remember that while our men were holding the Condé-Mons-Binche line a French Territorial battalion was defending Tournai. It was by way of this town that von Kluck was trying to turn the British left. In order to help the French in Tournai, the British Commander-in-chief sent them twenty-two pieces of field artillery, two heavy guns, and a force which only numbered seven hundred all told.
Tournai[57]is one of the most ancient cities of Belgium. It is as old as Cæsar, and its history is very warlike. Few towns have borne the brunt of so many sieges, and have changed hands so often. The Duke of Marlborough captured it in 1709. It contains one of the noblest cathedrals in Europe; a fine Cloth Hall, which is now a museum and picture gallery; a belfry with a set of chimes; and other interesting buildings. In 1653, near one of the old churches, a tomb was discovered containing the sword and other relics of Childeric I.,[58]one of the early kings of the Franks, a group of tribes which settled in the Lower Rhine valley about 250 A.D., and afterwards gave its name to France.Amongst the relics in the tomb were three hundred small figures in gold, resembling bees. When Napoleon ordered the robe in which he was crowned, he had it embroidered with gold bees instead of the usual French lilies. Tournai is one of the cleanest and pleasantest of Belgian industrial towns. The quays on the Scheldt are planted with trees, and the old walls have been turned into promenades.
A civilian who witnessed the fighting at Tournai tells us that the French Territorials, who were only one thousand strong, had barely arrived, after an eleven miles' march, when they were fired on by German guns. The firing began at 8 a.m. on Monday, 24th August, and shortly afterwards the Germans entered the town. He saw them in the garden of the station square taking cover under the bushes and behind the statues, and firing along all the streets that radiate from it. Then he heard the quick, continuous reports of the machine guns, which, he says, sounded like the noise of a very loud motor-cycle engine. The French made their last stand before the bridges of the Scheldt. They were mainly men of forty, but they held their ground the whole morning against a deadly fire, and only gave way when they were surrounded by the Germans.
Our seven hundred British with their guns were posted to the south-west of the town. An artillery duel began at 11, and continued fiercely until 2.30. Shrapnel continually burst over the trenches and batteries; but there was no flinching, and the gunners took a fearful toll of the advancing foe. Reinforcements had been promised, but they failed to arrive. Swarms of German cavalry, not less than five thousand of them, now swooped upon the little band of British, who fought desperately, and used the bayonet with deadly effect. After an agonizing struggle of an hour and a half, during which the Germans rode right up to the muzzles of the guns, "all that was left of them," some three hundred men, fought their way from the field, and escaped by the Cambrai road. "The last I saw of one of our officers," said a survivor, "was that he had a revolver in his hand, and was firing away, screened by his gun. He alone must have accounted for a dozen Uhlans. They were falling on all sides of him." The British guns were captured.
Such was the fine feat of arms performed by a handful of Britons at Tournai. They were assailed by a force that outnumbered them ten to one;but they stood their ground, and made a defence worthy to rank with that of Rorke's Drift.[59]The British soldier is never so great as when facing "fearful odds."
I have already told you how the Belgian and French townsfolk and villagers looked upon the British as their deliverers, and how readily they gave them food and lodging. I am sure you can understand the anguish of these poor people when they saw the British retreating, and leaving them to the mercy of the dreaded Uhlans. In many places they made little bundles of their most precious belongings, and, locking up their houses, fled southwards. Here is an amusing story of a British officer's experience with a family that remained:—
"After the Battle of Mons we were billeted at a large farmhouse, the inhabitants of which did not seem very pleased to see us. We had not touched any eatables for several hours, and I made the housewife understand that we wanted some food. She looked at us in a way which was not altogether an expression of friendliness, and pointing to the table, round which a number of men were gathered, to whom she was serving their meals, she said, 'After my workpeople.'
"We waited patiently till the men had finished their meal, and then asked once more for food. But the woman merely remarked, 'After us,' and she and her husband prepared to eat their supper. It is rather trying to see somebody making an attack on a hearty meal while one has not tasted any food for a long time. So I demanded, in the name of the King, that we should be supplied with foodstuffs immediately, the more so that the woman seemed so unwilling to grant our wishes. The only answer she made was that if we were in want of food we should have to look for it ourselves, and try to prepare it.
"The situation was rather awkward, and I was wondering why these French peasants were so extremely unkind towards British soldiers.
"Suddenly it entered my mind that perhaps she thought we were Germans! At the same time I had something like a happy thought in order to provethat we were not. One of our men, a tall, heavy chap, who was still outside the house, was ordered to substitute a German helmet for his own cap, and to knock at the door. He did: the door was opened, we dashed forward, and made 'the German' a prisoner.
"The whole scene changed all of a sudden. The whole family embraced us, almost choked us. Food and wine and dainties were supplied at once, and we had a most glorious time."
The following story of the retreat is told by Private Stewart of the Royal Scots. "After Mons," he says, "the hardships of fighting on the retreat began. We had little time for sleep; both day and night we retreated, and as they marched the men slept. If a man in front of you happened to stop, you found yourself bumping into him. At one place where we halted for the day the lady of the farmhouse was washing, so some of us took off our shirts to have them washed. While they were hanging up to dry the order came that the troops had to move on, and the wet garments had to be put on just as they were. Mine was dry next morning."
A party of Royal Scots which was cut off from its main body joined up with the Grenadier Guards, and fought in the streets of Landrecies. The Germans called on them to surrender; but a Royal Scots officer replied, "British never surrender! Fix bayonets! Charge!" So well did they charge that the Germans went down before them in large numbers.
Here is a fine story of a young soldier of the King's Own Scottish Borderers. While trying to cross two planks over a canal that was being peppered with machine-gun fire, the youngster received a flesh wound, and was about to fall. Colonel Stephenson gripped him to save him from falling into the canal, and said, "You had better go back to the hospital, sonny." So he did; but scarcely had he reached the hospital when the Germans began shelling it, and he and the other patients had to beat a quick retreat. Some time later he was on sentry go by a wayside shrine, and was waiting for the reliefs to come round, when he saw Germans in the distance. He fired at them once or twice—"for luck," as he said—but almost immediately received another wound in the body. This time it was so serious that he had to be sent home.
Colonel Stephenson, who is mentioned in this story, was the hero of another life-saving episode. During the fighting at Le Cateau one of the captains of his regiment fell in front of the British trenches. Without a moment's hesitation the colonel rushed out to carry in the captain, and in doing so exposed himself to a fierce fire. As he entered the lines with his unconscious burden the men gave him a rousing cheer. Later in the day he was hit, and was assisted into an ambulance wagon; but shortly afterwards he came out of it, in order, as he said, to make room for men who were worse wounded than himself. Almost immediately afterwards the retreat was continued, and the colonel was picked up and made prisoner by the Germans.
There was scarcely an hour during the whole retreat which was not marked by some noble deed of self-sacrifice. A private of the 1st Cheshires tells us admiringly of the great pluck of a wounded lieutenant of the A Company. "I only know his nickname, which was 'Winkepop.' He had been shot through his right leg and left foot, and we cut off his boots and attempted roughly to bandage his wounds. As he rose to his feet, he saw one of our privates in distress about fifteen yards away, and seizing his gun, he rushed or hobbled forward to bring him in, which he managed to do on his back, under a murderous fire from the enemy. Having dropped his rifle and sword in this courageous act, he made his way back for them, and we missed him after that, and indeed he has not been seen since."
In an earlier chapter we read of the splendid spirit of comradeship shown by officers to men and men to officers in the British army. A good instance is afforded by the letter of a private of the Yorkshire Light Infantry, who thus writes to General Wynn telling him of the death of his son, Lieutenant Wynn: "I have been asked by friends of ours to let you know fuller particulars of your son's death. He was my platoon officer, and he met his death at Landrecies. Sir, these are a few of the instances which made your son liked by all his men. He was a gentleman and a soldier. The last day he was alive we had got a cup of tea in the trenches, and we asked him if he would have a drink. He said, 'No; drink it yourselves.' And then, with a smile, he added, 'We have to hold thetrenches to-day.' Again, at Mons we had been fighting all day, and some one had brought us a sack of pears and two loaves of bread. Lieutenant Wynn accepted only one pear and a very little bread. We noticed this. I had a small bottle of pickles in my haversack, and asked him to have some. But it was the usual answer, 'You require them yourselves.' Our regiment was holding the first line of trenches, and Lieutenant Wynn was told to hold the right of the company. Word was passed down to see if Lieutenant Wynn was all right, and I was just putting up my head when they hit me, and I heard from a neighbour that Lieutenant Wynn was hit through the eye and died instantly. He died doing his duty, and like the officer and gentleman he was."
Astory of heroism which ought not to be forgotten is told by a drummer of the 1st Battalion Royal Berks Regiment. The British were attacking a canal bridge held by the Germans near Cambrai, and during the attack several men slipped down the steep river embankment and fell into the water, where they were in danger of drowning. Corporal Brindall of the Royal Berks, who was an expert swimmer, immediately plunged in and rescued four of them who could not swim. He left the water, and was climbing the embankment, when a German shell exploded close to him and killed him instantly. "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."
Here is the story of a 1st East Lancashire private, who was considered by his comrades the luckiest man in the war. "I got hit," he writes, "by three bullets in about a minute. One went through my cap, one smashed the magazine of my rifle, and one flattened five rounds of ammunition in my belt. Nearly all my company wanted to shake hands with me, telling me that I am the luckiest man in the war. I think it was a record myself. They wanted to keep the cap, ammunition, and magazine; but I am keeping them myself to show you when I come home. So you see I have not to be shot with rifle bullets—at least, that is what they say here, and I think so myself."
We have to piece together from various sources the story of a modest hero, named Jack W. Pape, of the Signal Company, Royal Engineers. In a letter to his relatives in Leeds he wrote: "You can say to —— that on26th August, in the big fight on that day, I kept my end up, and have since been personally congratulated by General Smith-Dorrien, commander of the Second Army Corps." That is all we hear of the business from Pape himself. A sapper thus tells us why he received the congratulations of his general: "Men were dropping all round, whether shot or for cover I know not. I remember seeing one poor fellow shot through the eye. He was gallantly carried off the field under fire by Pape of Leeds, but has since died." Another comrade describes the parade at which our hero was honoured by his general: "This morning a general parade was ordered at nine o'clock ('as clean as possible'). This was a tall order, owing to the very wet weather we have been having lately—up to the eyes in mud. Anyhow, we were marched up to headquarters, and paraded before the whole of the staff. When formed up, General Smith-Dorrien read from a paper some particulars. Then he congratulated the Signal Company on the splendid work they had done for his command. After this he said that for gallantry in the field J. W. Pape was promoted. He then brought him out in front of all the troops, shook hands with him, and congratulated him. Then followed congratulations from the sergeant-major down to the boys, who were proud that the Signal Company should be so honoured." Writing home a little later, Pape said that General Smith-Dorrien had promoted him "King's Corporal."[60]
A London doctor who was with the R.A.M.C.[61]tells us how gloriously brave and splendidly uncomplaining our men are. "If," he says, "the people of the United Kingdom could see the conditions under which our fellows fight, how they fight, and how they die, I swear every head would uncover to the colours[62]of any regiment bearing the name of abattle, because the name has been won through the blood of real heroes. Believe me, the Victoria Cross is won over and over again in a single day. Theyarebrave!
"What if you were to see how the wounded act after the excitement of battle! They suffer their wounds, great and small, without a murmur; they get their wounds dressed, take chloroform, give consent to have their limbs amputated, just as if they were going to have their hair cut. They are gloriously brave.
"Men who have been in the thick of the fight all day, seen their chums wounded and killed, their own lives not worth a second's insurance—still, these men cook their food and go off to sleep, and, most wonderful of all, go back to the thick of it next day."
We must not imagine that all German soldiers are brutal and treacherous. Let us always remember that they are very brave, and that many of them are worthy foes. There is a little story which illustrates the chivalry of a German lancer and the gratitude of the man whom he spared. "At Le Cateau," said a wounded corporal of the Coldstream Guards, "I made a bayonet thrust at a German lancer, and fell. He scorned to take advantage of my accident, and we parted. I made up my mind to repay the debt if ever I met the man again. Some time later I came upon him. He had been wounded by a splinter of shell, and was in urgent need of assistance. I managed to get him to the hospital, and he told me he was well repaid for sparing my life on the first day we met."
Now let me tell you how a British soldier returned good for evil. During the retreat a British artilleryman, slightly wounded, asked a German for water and was refused. Some weeks later the artilleryman recognized the same German amongst a party of wounded who were crying for water. He went up to the man, who knew him at once, took off his water-bottle and handed it to him without a word. The corporal of the Highland Light Infantry who told the story adds, "You never saw anybody look so shamefaced as that German."
It was during the retreat from Landrecies that the Munster Fusiliers added to their fame by making a most gallant stand against an overwhelming German attack, but at a great loss of killed, wounded, and missing. Some weeks afterwards the War Office published a list of 688 Munsters whose whereabouts were unknown. Later on it was learned that many of them were prisoners in Germany. The Munsters formed part of the 1st Army Corps, which retreated southwards along the left bank of the Oise. They reached Guise without being much molested by the Germans.
Guise is a very old town, with an ancient castle, which figures in British history. In 1338 Edward III. laid claim to the French crown in right of his mother, and the Hundred Years' War began. In the next year John of Hainault, with a body of English troops, assaulted the castle. Strange to say, the wife of the lord of this castle was John of Hainault's daughter. As the husband was away from home, the defence of the castle was entrusted to the wife, and John expected that she would readily give it up to him. Imagine his surprise when his daughter refused to surrender it. She made such a stubborn defence that her father, though he burned the town, was unable to capture the castle, and was forced to depart. Guise gives its name to the noble French family from which the ill-fated Mary Queen of Scots was descended.
The Munsters halted at Guise on the night of the 26th, and formed the extreme right rear of their corps. A dispatch rider had been sent by the general with the order that they were to march early the next day. This dispatch rider, unfortunately, lost his way, and was taken prisoner, so the order to retire never reached the Munsters. They remained at Guise while their comrades were miles away on their southward journey. Theyhad been left behind, without supports or the hope of reinforcement.
The advancing Germans rolled down upon them, and they soon discovered that they were surrounded. "They came at us," says one of the gallant fellows, "from all points—horse, foot, and artillery and all—and the air was filled with screaming, shouting men, waving swords, and blazing away at us like blue murder." The brave Irish lads fixed bayonets, and prepared to sell their lives dearly. "We were," wrote an officer, "about three-quarters of a battalion fighting six German battalions, and without any chance of relief. I think we really did our best. We had one section of artillery and two machine guns with us, which helped a lot; but they were very soon knocked out. Our colonel was a wonder to see—he had absolutely no fear; and I followed him, and helped him all I could in every charge, but he was killed in the end by a shell. We had, I think, ten officers killed, five wounded, and the remainder prisoners. I was wounded in two places. . . . Well, although we were well beaten, I believe we gave as good as we got. We killed and wounded a great many Germans, and they say themselves that we made a gallant fight of it." The Munsters did not surrender until they had lost most of their officers and a large number of the rank and file, and had shot away all their cartridges. They only yielded when they no longer possessed the means of defending themselves. Let us honour the brave but unfortunate Irishmen who strove so nobly at Guise.
The valour of the British troops during the retreat extended to every arm of the service. You have already heard of the Army Service Corps, whose duty it is to supply food, stores, and ammunition to the troops. During the present war the Army Service Corps has done its work splendidly. Except during the retirement, not a single day passed upon which food did not reach our men. Even during the retirement food was brought to the line of retreat, and left on the ground to be picked up.
For the purpose of bringing up supplies, large numbers of motor lorries and horsed wagons are used. When the Germans were following hard on the heels of the retiring British, they were very anxious to capture ourfood and ammunition train, for by so doing they would be able to hamper us very much. Near a village close to St. Quentin the colonel in charge of the British lorries and wagons learned that Uhlans were only a mile away. His horses were almost dead beat, and he could only proceed at a snail's pace. Night was drawing on, and there were no fighting troops to assist him. He had to depend upon his own men to beat off the threatened attack.
The wagons and lorries were drawn up in the village street in the form of a laager, and the wearied men took cover behind them, and prepared to make a stubborn resistance. The people of the village were in a great state of terror, and the colonel advised them to go to church. They did so, and the curé[63]held a service. While our men were strengthening their defences and looking to their rifles and cartridges, they were greatly cheered by the hymns which the villagers sang.
Dark night set in, and the sound of guns was heard. The horses grew restless, and it was feared that they would stampede. Had they done so,all would have been lost. The drivers, however, quietened them down, and held their heads till the break of day. In the morning they discovered that the Uhlans had missed them. The Germans imagined that the convoy was far ahead, and had advanced to the right and left of the village, quite unaware that it was drawn up in the streets.
On several other occasions British convoys managed to escape capture. Frequently horsed supply wagons on their way to the troops have to pass along roads under artillery fire. Often shells burst among them and destroy the wagons, while the drivers fall with bullet wounds. There is an old story of an Army Service Corps man who raised a howl of derision amongst a group of "Tommies" by declaring that he was always to be found where the bullets were thickest. The laugh was on his side when it was discovered that he drove an ammunition wagon. During the present war men of the Army Service Corps driving their wagons towards the firing line have actually been where the bullets fell thickest.
Very early one morning during the retreat a convoy drove up to a brigade of artillery with rations. In a few moments the officer in command learned that he was being quietly surrounded by German cavalry. Rather than let the enemy capture his wagons, the officer was prepared to burn them, but before doing so he determined to try to make a dash for safety.
Off went lorries and wagons at top speed until they reached a bridge over a railway. There was some delay in getting them across; but all passed over except thirty motor lorries, and these the officer thought he would be obliged to abandon, as the enemy was hard on his rear. A determined effort, however, was made, and twenty-eight of the thirty were got across. Then the bridge was blown up, and almost before the roar of the explosion had ended the two remaining lorries were in the hands of the Germans. It was a very near thing. The German pursuit was checked by the wrecked bridge, and the convoy, almost intact, drove on into safety.
I will close this chapter by giving you some account of the heroes who won the Victoria Cross during the retreat from Mons to St. Quentin. You will notice that four of them belong to the Royal Field Artillery. Thisalone is sufficient to show you how splendidly the artillery fought during that critical time. It is not too much to say that the retreat would have become a rout had not every gunner played a hero's part.
Captain Francis Octavius Grenfell, 9th Lancers, was the hero of the stirring episode of which you read on page88.
Private Sidney Frank Godley, 4th Battalion, Royal Fusiliers, City of London, won the highest award of valour for his coolness and gallantry in continuing to fight his machine gun, though hotly assailed for two hours, and suffering from a wound received at Mons.
Lieutenant-Colonel Ernest Wright Alexander, 119th Battery, Royal Field Artillery, greatly distinguished himself on August 24, 1914. When the 5th Division was retiring to the Bavay-Maubeuge position, Major Alexander, as he was then, handled his guns so skilfully that they did great execution on the Germans; and when they were threatened with capture by overwhelming numbers of the enemy, he and three men moved them into safety by hand. The splendid stand which he made enabled the 5th Division to retire without serious loss. On a later date he rescued a wounded man under heavy fire, and on every occasion when he was engaged showed the greatest gallantry and devotion to duty. For these noble services he was awarded the Victoria Cross and received promotion.
Captain Douglas Reynolds,Driver Job Henry Charles Drain, andDriver Frederick Luke, all of the 37th Battery, Royal Field Artillery, showed magnificent courage during "the most critical day of all," 26th August. When it became clear that the corps holding the Le Cateau position would be utterly wiped out if a retirement were not attempted, the Royal Field Artillery covered the retreat with almost superhuman courage and devotion. At one stage in the retirement all the men working some of our guns were shot down, and the pieces were on the point of being captured by German infantry, then only a hundred yards away. Captain Reynolds called for volunteers to save the guns, and drivers Drain and Luke were amongst those who answered the call. Two teams dashed forward amidst a terrible rifle and shrapnel fire, and limbered up two of the guns. Thanks to the devoted courage of Captain Reynolds and the two drivers, one gun was got safely away. In a later engagement a German battery was holding up a British advance. Captain Reynolds crept forward under aheavy fire, and got so near the German guns that he was able to discover their position, and bring his own guns to bear on them until the battery was silenced. Eight days later he was severely wounded.
Major Charles Allix Lavington Yate, 2nd Battalion the King's Own (Yorkshire Light Infantry), did superb deeds of heroism at Le Cateau. His battalion formed part of the 5th Division, which was the last to retire. Major Yate commanded one of two companies that remained to the end. All the other officers had been killed or wounded, and there was no more ammunition left. Rather than surrender, Major Yate called upon the nineteen survivors of his company—every man of whom deserved the Victoria Cross—to fix bayonets and charge. They did so with furious gallantry; but, unhappily, Major Yate was shot down. As he lay on the ground, severely wounded, he was picked up by the Germans and made a prisoner of war. He did not live to receive the coveted honour awarded him, but died in the hands of the enemy.
Lance-Corporal Frederick William Holmes, of the same regiment and battalion, also proved himself supremely brave at Le Cateau. He carried a wounded man out of the trenches under fire, and later on, when he saw a gun in danger of capture, sprang into the saddle of a driver who had been wounded and helped to drive the gun out of action into a place of safety.