In the full light of that cold and windy morning, the British saw clearly that the task before them was enough to make the stoutest heart quail. The Germans had retreated to a line of trenches on a stretch of rising open ground. To carry these trenches meant an advance through a tornado of lead from rifles and machine guns. Behind the trenches was concealed German artillery, which was dropping shells on them so fast and furiously that advance was impossible. There was a great sigh of relief when, about nine o'clock, British shells began to whistle over the heads of the infantry. At last the artillery had come to their aid.
Now we must leave these gallant men for a moment and see what was happening to the Allies on either flank. To the right of the 1st Division the Moroccans, who had already taught the Germans to fear them, were holding their trenches valiantly. To the left of the 1st Division was the 2nd Division, advancing towards Braye, which you will see on the extreme right of the picture-diagram (page249). Its right wing had been checked by German artillery and rifle fire, and was now held up. Between the firing lines of the 1st and 2nd Divisions there was a stretch of ground left open, and Sir Douglas Haig saw at once that the enemy would probably try to thrust in a wedge at this point. He therefore hurried the 3rd Infantry Brigade into the gap, but only just in time. Almost immediately it was fiercely shelled, and a strong force of Germans was seen advancing. Two battalions of the 3rd Brigade at once dashed towards them; a battery of field guns galloped up, and opened fire at short range, and the enemy hastily withdrew.
Later in the day the enemy actually gained a footing between the First and Second Corps, and threatened to cut the communications of the latter. Sir Douglas Haig at this time was very hard pressed, and he had no reserves. The only reinforcements which Sir John French possessed consisted of three brigades of Allenby's cavalry. They now galloped up, dismounted, and took their places in the firing line. By their timely help the enemy was driven back, and the danger was averted.
Desperate fighting continued the whole of the morning and far into the afternoon. Attack and counter-attack continued almost without a pause. The Germans rolled forward in waves, only to be beaten back; the British advanced in their turn, only to suffer a like fate. In each case it wasas though lines of breakers were dashing against the cliffs of a rocky seashore. Big guns thundered; Maxims and rifles cracked unceasingly. Huge siege guns, with a range of 10,000 yards, also hurled their enormous shells upon the British. These were the guns which had battered down the forts of Maubeuge a few days before.
About four in the afternoon the German counter-attacks grew so weak and infrequent that Sir Douglas Haig thought the time had come for a general advance. Our men pushed forward gallantly, but every inch of ground had to be won at a heavy price of dead and wounded. The officers suffered very severely; one brigade lost three of its four colonels. By this time the long day's struggle was beginning to tell upon our gallant fellows. Nevertheless before night fell a long stretch of difficult and dangerous ground had been won; six hundred prisoners and twelve guns had been captured. For the first time our men occupied an entrenched position on the plateau itself. In his dispatch Sir John French pays a high and well-deserved tribute to Sir Douglas Haig and the First Army Corps. He says: "The action of the First Army Corps, under the direction and command of Sir Douglas Haig, was of so skilful, bold, and decisive a character that he gained positions which alone have enabled me to maintain my position for more than three weeks of very severe fighting on the north bank of the river."
Very briefly I must sum up the work of the French on 14th September and the following days. The 6th French Army, to the left of the British, had made good progress on the 14th; but by the evening of the 15th had been driven back to within only a few hundred yards of its crossing places. Soissons had been heavily shelled, and part of it had been burned down. The French left, however, was still moving up the Oise towards Noyon.
The 5th French Army, to the right of the British, had crossed the river on the 14th, and had begun its assaults on the plateau above Craonne. If it could seize the long, steep-sided spur of Craonne, it would be able to turn the German positions on the whole line of heights. The Germans, however, stubbornly held their own, and the French could make no progress.
The 9th French Army, which had played such a leading part in the Battle of the Marne, had driven the Germans into Rheims, from which they fell back almost without firing a shot. The French were elated at the capture of this historic city. But von Buelow had not been defeated; he had moved back for the purpose of protecting the left of von Kluck's position on the heights of the Aisne. He halted, as we know, on the ridge along the northern bank of the Suippe, and Foch's attempts to force him from this position not only failed, but he himself was driven back by the Germans towards Rheims. The enemy captured the hill of Brimont, north of the city, and brought up heavy siege guns to bombard it at long range. More important still, the Germans had worked round on the east, and had won another hill to the east of the city. They could not, however, capture an adjoining hill, which was part of the defences of Rheims.
Eastwards of Rheims the 3rd and 4th Armies were fighting hard with some of the Saxon and Würtemberg troops, and also with the army of the Crown Prince. South of the Argonne the German retreat on this part of the line had also come to an end, and here, too, the invaders were holding an entrenched position of such strength that it resembled a fortress.
The next day, 15th September, was not so favourable to the Allies as the preceding day. On the British left two of our divisions were severely handled, and one of them was forced back at evening almost to the line of the stream. The 3rd Division, however, retook some high ground from which it had been thrust back on the previous day. On the British right there were constant attacks and counter-attacks, and the Guards' Brigade did yeoman service. It was during this part of the fighting that Bombardier Ernest Harlook, of the 113th Battery, R.F.A., won the V.C., as we shall read later.
Next day there was not much fighting on the British front. News arrived that the French 5th Army had been obliged to fall back, and that the Moroccans, on the British right, had retired, and thus left open the flank of our First Corps. Next morning (17th September), however, there was good news from the left. The French 6th Army had won back all the ground which it had lost, and was now in a strong position on the edge of the plateau. The British divisions which had been driven back to thestream were not molested; but the 1st Division, perched high up on the plateau at Troyon, came in for a bad time.
The Northamptons, on the extreme right, had clung to their positions, in spite of every effort to dislodge them. On the morning of the 17th the Germans in the opposite trenches showed a white flag as a token of surrender. They were called upon to come forward, and they did so, right to the edge of our trenches, and then most treacherously poured in a hot rifle fire. Many of our men were shot down; but happily there was a British machine gun, manned by a detachment of the Queen's, on the flank of the trench, and only 400 yards away. It opened fire at once, cutting a lane through the mass of the Germans, and killing three hundred of them. About one hundred of the survivors held up their hands and were made prisoners, while the rest fell back to their own trench. The trap had failed. Shortly afterwards a battalion of the Guards arrived, and drove them still farther back, with more loss.
On the next day (18th September) there was a lull in the fighting, though the 1st and 2nd British Divisions made a general attack, during which the Gloucesters, charging through the darkness, carried a line of the enemy's trenches. The whole French line to the east was making no progress, and it was now clear that the German positions could not be carried by a frontal attack. In five days' furious and deadly struggle but little ground had been gained. The forces opposed to each other were too evenly matched, and the trenches of the enemy were too strongly defended to be captured without a terrible loss of life. All that the Allies could do was to dig themselves in deeply, and slowly and painfully creep forward to the German lines by sap and mine.
It was clear that the Germans had recovered from their retreat, and were now in such a position that they could defy our attacks. A deadlock had set in all along the line. All dreams of rapidly driving the enemy out of France had been rudely dispelled. General Joffre, however, was equal to the occasion. He was ready with a new plan. What it was, and how it succeeded, we shall learn in a later chapter.
The Battle of the Aisne was a "soldiers' battle." It was, you will remember, a series of attempts to drive the enemy out of strong positions by attacks along his front. In this kind of fighting there is but little scope for what we call "generalship." Everything depends upon the courage and resolution of the rank and file and their company officers. The following stories will show you how nobly our men bore themselves during the perilous crossing of the river, and in the many fierce fights that afterwards took place on the slopes of the plateau.
As the engineers played such a gallant part in the battle, our first story must be the experiences of a sapper. In a letter to his friends at home, Sapper S. Johnson, of the Royal Engineers, wrote as follows:—
"I have got through so far, but I have had a great deal of luck. There was one time, at the Battle of the Aisne, when the shells were dropping all round us. We had just finished a pontoon bridge. There were seven of us standing at one end, and the lieutenant told us to spread out. I had not taken ten paces when a shell killed four and wounded one. I and the other sapper were blown off our feet with the concussion. It was a marvellous escape.
"Then we got into the shelter of a small bridge across a canal. Nine of us sat behind a wall, and the Germans shelled that bridge for all they were worth, and hardly missed it. But we were safe behind the buttress. It would have been certain death if any of us had moved.
"Our major wanted us to retire along the bank; but we told him we would rather chance crossing the bridge, for we should not have got fiftyyards without being shelled. Well, we had to dash across, one after the other, and every time a man dashed out there was a hail of shells. We left one man on the bridge. He was shot, and I was the last to leave him. We could not do anything for him. When we returned at night he was dead."
Private J. Green of the Loyal North Lancashire Regiment writes as follows:—
"We came to the river Aisne in the early hours of the 14th, and found that, with a single exception, all the bridges had been blown up. The engineers immediately set to work with their pontoons; but the Germans from a sheltered position had the range perfectly. As quickly as one raft was got into position the poor fellows were knocked over like ninepins by the most murderous fire. When one man fell into the water another took his place, and the river was full of wounded struggling in the water. We fished out all we could. Six times our bridge was destroyed before they were able to get across. The bravery of the chaps was magnificent."
The "Eye-Witness" with the British forces tells us a remarkable story. After our troops had advanced to the Aisne, many small parties of Germans were discovered hiding in the woods behind the British line. One of our officers, who was in charge of a number of riderless horses which were being led along a road, learnt that Germans were in the neighbourhood. He at once gave the order to charge, and the enemy, seeing horses galloping towards them, imagined them to be cavalry. At once they threw down their arms and held up their hands. Three officers and 106 men surrendered as a result of this extraordinary charge.
Here is the letter of a German officer:—
"My dear Parents,—Our corps has the task of holding the heights south of Cerny[129]in all circumstances till the 15th Corps on our left flank can grip the enemy's flank. We are fighting with English Guards, Highlanders, and Zouaves. The losses on both sides have been enormous. For the most part this is due to the too brilliant French artillery. TheEnglish are marvellously trained in making use of the ground. One never sees them, and yet one is constantly under fire. The French airmen perform wonderful feats. We cannot get rid of them. As soon as an airman has flown over us, ten minutes later we get their shrapnel fire on our position. We have little artillery in our corps. Without it we cannot get forward. Three days ago (14th September) our division took possession of these heights, dug itself in, etc. Two days ago, early in the morning, we were attacked by immensely superior English forces, and were turned out of our positions. The fellows took five guns from us. It was a tremendous hand-to-hand fight. How I escaped myself I am not clear. I then had to bring up supports on foot. My horse was wounded, and the others were too far in rear. Then came up the supports, and, with help of the artillery, drove back the fellows out of the position again. Our machine guns did excellent work. The English fell in heaps. In our battalion three Iron Crosses[130]have been awarded—one to the commanding officer, one to the captain, one to the surgeon. Let us hope that we shall be the lucky ones next time. During the first two days of the battle I had only one piece of bread and no water; spent the night in the rain, without my greatcoat. The rest of my kit was on the horses, which have been left miles behind with the baggage; which cannot come up into the battle, because as soon as you put your nose out from behind, the bullets whistle. The war is terrible. We are all hoping that the decisive battle will end the war, as our troops have already got round Paris.[131]If we first beat the English, the French resistance will soon be broken. Russia will be very quickly dealt with. Of this there is no doubt. We received splendid help from the Austrian heavy artillery at Maubeuge. They bombarded one of the forts in such a way that there was not thirty feet of parapet which did not show enormous craters made by shells. The armoured turrets were found upside down."
It was during the fighting of 14th September that Captain Mark Haggard,while leading the Welsh Regiment in the 3rd Brigade, met his death. Private Derry of his company thus tells the story:—"The Welsh were ordered to advance. When about twenty yards from the crest of a hill Captain Haggard ran forward to the top, saw the Germans, and shouted, 'Fix bayonets, boys; here they are!' We fixed, and were prepared to follow him anywhere; but we were checked by a storm of Maxim fire. We knew by the sound that we were up against a tremendous force. There was only one game to play now—bluff them into the belief that we were as strong as they were. So we were ordered rapid firing, which gives an enemy the impression that the firing force is strong. We popped away like this for three hours, never moving an inch from our position. Just near the men was lying our brave captain, mortally wounded. He had charged on to the enemy's Maxims, and had been hit as he was laying out the enemy with the butt of an empty rifle, laughing as he did it. As the shells burst over us he would occasionally open his eyes, so full of pain, and call out, but in a very weak voice, 'Stick it, Welsh! stick it, Welsh!' So our brave lads stuck it until our artillery got in action, and put 'paid' to the score. Captain Haggard died that evening, his last words being, 'Stick it, Welsh!' He died as he had lived—an officer and a gentleman."
When his men were forced to retire to a new position, they had to leave him behind; but his soldier-servant, Lance-Corporal Fuller, ran out from the new trenches and, under a heavy fire, carried him into his own lines. For this deed, as you will hear later, the gallant soldier received the Victoria Cross.
Gunner Thomas Joy, of the Royal Field Artillery, thus describes a night attack on the Aisne:—
"'It's a fine night for the Germans' is what we say out there when it's so dark that you can hardly see your finger before you; and it was just on such a night that I got nicked while serving my gun. The enemy had been quiet all day, for a wonder, and we were just taking a well-earned rest after the hot time we had been having. Just about two in the morning, when the faintest traces of light were to be seen creeping across the sky, there was a heavy rattle of rifle fire on the hill where our advanced men were posted, and soon the whole camp was alive with noise and bustle as the men sprang to arms.
"We always sleep beside our guns, so as to be ready for anything, and in five minutes we were at our posts waiting for information about the range. That came later, and then we began plugging away for all we were worth. We caught sight of a mass of Germans swarming up a slope on the right, to take cover in a wood there; but they didn't know what we knew. We dropped a few shells into them, just to liven things up a bit and keep them from thinking too much about the Fatherland; but we had to be careful, because some of our own chaps were posted in that wood.
"The Germans kept rushing along gaily, and there was not the slightest sound from the wood where our men were securely posted behind the felled trees. Now the German searchlights began to play all around, and the air was lit up with bursting shells. We could see the Germans get nearer and nearer to the wood.
"Suddenly the whole side of the wood was one big sheet of flame, as our hidden men sent volley after volley ripping through the ranks of the advancing Germans. They were fairly staggered by the suddenness of the fire, and before they had time to collect their wits a big body of our chaps were into them with the bayonet, thrusting right and left, and sweeping the Germans away as a scavenger sends the mud before his brush on a dirty day.
"Just when this little show was in full blast, the Germans obliged us with more limelight, and we saw it clearly. We spoiled the German appetite for breakfast in that part of the field; though, from what we learned later, there was no doubt that this was the point where they expected to break through. They cleared off quickly.
"Then they began to press their attack in another part of the field, and there was some dandy bayonet work within the trenches as the Germans tried to rush them. Our boys were on the lookout, and gave it them hot. Our artillery found the German infantry advancing to the attack—a fine target—and we tore holes in their tightly-packed ranks that it would take some tinkering to make right again, I can tell you. Their artillery did all their gunners knew to silence ours and help their attacking parties; but it was no good, and by six o'clock they drew off, leaving us nice time to get breakfast."
A private of the 12th Lancers gives the following account of a ride for life. He does not tell us where the incident took place, but it may have been at Bourg.
"We had," he says, "to cross a river and canal by means of pontoon bridges, as the permanent iron ones were blown away by the enemy. Half of the brigade got safely across, when the enemy started shelling the bridges with six big guns. The half that had not yet come over returned to safety; not so we. We were trapped in the town, and had to take shelter as best we could along the street. It was about the worst experience one could have gone through. To see those sixty-pound shells hit houses twenty and thirty yards away, and explode in the centre of troops, was awful.
"One shell burst in a garden ten yards from where I was standing, but luckily there was a heavy wall between. I was knocked flat by the shock of the explosion; and soon the place became too hot to hold us, as it was in flames. Then the ride through death took place. One by one we had to retire at full gallop across a pontoon with six big guns trained on it, and two or three explosions taking place every half-minute. I was next man after the colonel to cross, so I set my horse to it, murmured a prayer, and won through. What a cheer from the chaps when we got back to safety! They had given us up for lost; but, thank God! we came across with but few casualties, although it seemed impossible."
Let me now tell you how the youngest soldier of the 127th French regiment of infantry won the military medal, which is the French equivalent to our Victoria Cross. His name was Léon Lemaire, and he was twenty years of age. During the Battle of the Aisne it was necessary to send a message to the captain of one of the companies in an advanced trench. Lemaire was chosen for the purpose. He had no sooner shown himself on the level ground, ready to run forward on his errand, than the Germans, whose trenches were at short range, fired volleys at him. First, a bullet passed through his greatcoat; then his cap was struck; his haversack and water-bottle were riddled with shots; and a hole was bored through the scabbard of his bayonet. Through this hurricane of fire Lemaire advanced with great coolness, and actually reached the trench without a wound! Some days later his regiment was paraded in hishonour at a place behind the firing line. His general pinned the little silver medal for valour on his breast, embraced him, and placed him by his side, where he remained while the whole regiment, with colours flying, and the band playing the "Marseillaise," marched past him and saluted. Thus does the French army honour its heroes.
A young soldier of the 24th South Wales Borderers, who was wounded near Soissons and carried into safety by a lance-corporal of his regiment, thus describes the incident:—
"My company officer was standing up with an orderly near a tree, and twelve of us were lying resting in a field under a roaring cannonade. Suddenly I saw a shell coming, and shouted to him to look out, just as it burst over and a little behind the tree. Neither of the two standing was touched, but eight of us got it. I felt as if something had come up through the ground and jolted my leg, and when I tried to get up I could only use one foot. I asked if I could be moved, and my lance-corporal took me on his back and walked straight across one hundred and fifty yards of ground on which shells and bullets were falling fast. How he got across I don't know. When we were safe on the other side he cut off my trouser leg, gave me a first dressing, and put a waterproof sheet under me; and there I lay for about fifteen hours, under the rain most of the time. If ever I find that man again I shall know how to thank him."
Here is a pathetic story of a wounded man who gave his life to save his comrades. The story is told by a Northumberland Fusilier.
"We occupied an exposed position on the left at the Aisne, and one night only escaped being wiped out by mere chance, combined with as fine a deed of heroism as I have ever heard of. There was a man of the Manchester Regiment who was lying close to the German lines, badly wounded. He happened to overhear some conversation between German soldiers, and being familiar with the language, gathered that they intended to attack the position which we held that night. In spite of his wounds he decided to set out and warn us of the danger, so he started on a weary tramp of over five miles. He was under fire from the moment he got to his feet, but he stumbled along and got out of range.Later he ran into a patrol of Uhlans; but before they saw him, he dropped to earth and shammed death. They passed without a sign, and then he resumed his weary journey. By this time the strain had told on him, and his wound began to bleed, marking his path towards our lines with thin red streaks. In the early morning, just half an hour before the time fixed for the German attack, he staggered into one of our advanced posts, and managed to tell his story to the officer in charge before collapsing in a heap. Thanks to the information he gave us, we were ready for the Germans when they came, and beat them off. But his anxiety to warn us had cost him his life. The doctors said that the strain had been too much for him; and next day he died."
The coolness of our men under fire is, well illustrated in the following story.
"Out on the Aisne," says Trooper G. Hill of the 17th Lancers, "I watched a man of the Royal Irish Fusiliers, who lay in the trenches, quietly firing away at the advancing enemy as coolly as if he were in a shooting gallery at home. After each shot he turned for a pull at a cigarette lying by his side on a stone. When the enemy got so close that it was necessary to use bayonets, he simply laid his cigarette down and walked out of the trench to engage them with the steel. When the attack was beaten off, he walked back for his cigarette. 'Oh, it's smoked away, and it was my last!' was all that he said."
Probably the youngest sergeant in the world is Prudent Marius, a French boy of fourteen, scarcely four feet in height. On the outbreak of war he attached himself as cyclist scout to a certain regiment passing through Alsace-Lorraine. So useful did he prove to be that the regiment adopted him, and he acted as ammunition bearer, dispatch carrier, and generally as Jack-of-all-trades. By the time the Germans were drawing near to Paris he had been made a corporal, and had been wounded in the leg. Near Soissons, during the Battle of the Aisne, he was attached to the artillery, and while handing shells to a gunner was again wounded, this time in the face. Soon afterwards he was made a full-blown sergeant. A correspondent who saw him describes him as a curious little figure in his dark-blue coat and red trousers, with two gold stripes on his arm.In spite of his youth, he was quite indifferent to shell and rifle fire.
So many stories of treachery, bad faith, and cruelty are told of the Germans that it is good to know that all of them are not cast in the same mould. It is said that in one of the towns held by the Germans near the Aisne a certain French gentleman lay sick unto death. A German army doctor, who, of course, was not required to attend on civilians, heard of the case, and knowing that there were no French doctors in the town, offered his services to the sick man. This in itself was an act of great kindness, but the manner in which it was done raised it to the level of a deed of chivalry. The German doctor knew that the sick man hated the Germans, and that the visit of a German doctor would excite him and do him harm. So he took off his uniform, put on private clothes, and pretended to be an English doctor. I am sure that we all honour this German doctor for his kind heart and thoughtful good nature.
Now let me tell you of the glorious courage and devotion shown by Dr. Huggan of the R.A.M.C. He was a native of Jedburgh, and played three-quarter back in the Englandv.Scotland Rugby match at Edinburgh in March 1914. Colonel Drummond Hay, writing to a friend, says that on the 14th of September Dr. Huggan organized and led a party of volunteers who removed a number of wounded from a barn which had been set on fire by German shells. Dr. Huggan and his party rushed to the barn under a very heavy fire, and managed to save all the wounded, who were in danger of being burnt alive. For this very gallant deed he was recommended for the Victoria Cross. Two days later he was killed.
Here is an extract from a letter describing the conditions under which the Army Service Corps brought up stores to the men fighting on the Aisne:—
"The whole road from here to the river Aisne is under very heavy shell fire all day, and it is only possible to move out at dusk. Even then we often come under shell fire; the guns are laid by angles; the distance is, of course, known, and at frequent intervals during the night shellsare fired on the road or at the villages on the way, or at the bridgehead, four and a half miles from here. The enemy in his retirement blew up the bridge over the river, and our engineers have built a pontoon bridge to replace it. This bridge is under the enemy's guns, which shell it with great accuracy. Last night, on starting out—a pitch-dark night and raining hard—we could see the frequent flashes of the enemy's artillery, and hear and see the bursting shells. The whole of the road is lined with dead horses, and the smell is too dreadful for words. We had to halt some little time, as a village through which we had to pass was being shelled. These high-explosive shells make a most terrifying noise, and do dreadful damage when they hit something. When the shelling stopped we moved on, and finally reached the river.
"It was impossible to get loaded wagons across a very shaky pontoon bridge in pitch darkness, with very steep banks down to it, and no side rails on it. The supplies had, therefore, to be dumped on this side. This was a matter of great difficulty in the dark and wet—a very narrow road, choked in places by dead horses, ambulances, and pontoons waiting to go forward, and a perpetual stream of wounded men being carried or helped past in the opposite direction. So black was it that I could not see my hand before my face; the only things which showed up were the white bandages of the wounded.
"To add to the difficulty, we were waiting every second for the enemy to resume shelling. One shell among that congested crowd would have had dreadful results. We had not left the place more than half an hour when we saw the flashes of guns behind us. . . . We got back to this town at 3.30 a.m. This is what goes on every night—leaving at dusk, getting back at 3.30, and hoping the enemy will refrain from shelling until we are back."
The following officers and men were awarded the Victoria Cross for deeds of outstanding gallantry during the fighting on the Aisne in September 1914:—
Captain Harry Sherwood Ranken, Royal Army Medical Corps, received the highest award of valour for tending wounded in the trenches under rifle and shrapnel fire on 19th and 20th September. He continued his merciful work after his thigh and leg had been shattered. Unhappily, he died ofhis wounds before the Cross was awarded to him.
Captain William Henry Johnston, Royal Engineers. At Missy, on 14th September, he worked with his own hands two rafts on the river from early morning till late evening under a heavy fire. He ferried ammunition across and brought back wounded, and thus enabled a brigade to hold its own in an advanced position on the north bank of the stream.
Bombardier Ernest George Harlook(now Sergeant), 113th Battery, R.F.A. At a little village south of Troyon, on 15th September, Bombardier Harlook's battery was under heavy shell fire. He was twice wounded, and was forced to retire to have his wounds dressed; but on each occasion he returned, and worked his gun again.
Lance-Corporal William Fuller, 2nd Battalion, Welsh Regiment. On page 261 I told you how Lance-Corporal Fuller, at the risk of almost certain death, carried poor Captain Haggard, who was mortally wounded, into cover. Never was the Victoria Cross more worthily won.
Lance-Corporal Frederick William Dobson, 2nd Battalion, Coldstream Guards. On the 28th of September, at Chavonne on the Aisne, Lance-Corporal Dobson twice went out under heavy fire, and brought into cover wounded men who were lying exposed in the open.
Private George Wilson, 2nd Battalion, Highland Light Infantry. Prior to the war Private Wilson was a reservist who made a living by selling newspapers in the streets of Edinburgh. The extraordinary exploit for which he was awarded the coveted Cross took place on 14th September, when the 5th Brigade was in action at a village north of Bourg. All along the trench where Wilson lay the men were continually falling, and he could plainly see that it was a machine gun about 750 yards away, and a little in front of the main body of Germans, that was doing most of the mischief. He determined to silence the gun, and a private of the 60th King's Rifles volunteered to go with him. They crawled out of their trench and wriggled along; but they had not gone a hundred yards when Wilson's companion rolled over, riddled with bullets. Wilson, however, continued his journey, and managed to get within a short distance of the gun. Then he levelled his rifle, and one by one shot down the officer and the six men who were working it.
Crawling up to the gun he had a surprise, for a German officer who had only been slightly wounded jumped up and emptied his revolver at him. But, as luck would have it, the officer missed, and Wilson promptlybayonetedhim. Then he crawled back to his trench, where he fainted. He soon recovered, however, and asked if the gun had been brought in. When he learned that it had not been captured, he ran out again, and succeeded in bringing in the gun. Though he had been so long under fire, he escaped with only slight wounds.
Private R. Tollerton, 1st Battalion, Queen's Own Cameron Highlanders, was awarded the Victoria Cross for conspicuous bravery and devotion to duty on 14th September. He carried a disabled officer under heavy fire into a place of safety, and although wounded in the head and the hand, struggled back to the firing line, where he remained until his battalion retired. Then he returned to the wounded officer, and lay beside him for three days until both were rescued.
The first and worst part of the Battle of the Aisne may be said to have ended on 18th September 1914. By this date it was clear to all that the fighting for weeks to come would be a dull and stubborn affair of trenches. The Germans boasted that they could hold their positions for three months if necessary; and the boast was no idle one, for the hills, woods, and quarries which they occupied were natural fortresses, made almost impregnable by every art known to the military engineer. In some places there were eight or nine lines of trenches, the one behind the other, all of them cleverly constructed and carefully concealed. Wire entanglements and lines of rabbit fencing, both in the woods and in the open, protected the trenches from attack, and every line of approach, whether from the front or from the flanks, was covered by the cross-fire of rifles, machine guns, and artillery. Behind the woods on the top of the plateau were heavy howitzers, which hurled shells at long range into the valley and right across it.
You will remember that, as early as 11th September, General Joffre had sent the left of the 6th French Army along the Oise in order to prevent von Kluck from trying an outflanking movement. The Germans believe greatly in this form of strategy, and it was to be expected that they would try it again, now that they were held up on the Aisne. On the 18th of September Sir John French was informed that General Joffre was about to try an enveloping movement himself. He was about to attack the enemy's right flank, in the hope of driving him from his trenches. While this movement was preparing, it was necessary that the Allied lines along the Aisne should be strongly held, so that the Germans could not break through.
To our men life in the trenches was a dull and dismal experience after the stirring days of open fighting in which they had recently been engaged. There were many attacks and counter-attacks; but for the most part the opposing armies lay in their trenches during the day, watching each other while the shells of friend and foe hurtled overhead. Between the trenches was a No Man's Land, strewn with wounded and the unburied bodies of the dead. The moment any attempt was made to rescue the wounded a heavy fire broke out; so the poor fellows lay on the sodden ground in torment, within a few yards of their own trenches, for days together. In some places the British and the German lines were so near that the soldiers could exchange remarks.
As a rule, each side shelled the other by day, and at night the Germans, after a fierce bombardment, were in the habit of attacking some part of our lines. They crept forward in the early hours of the morning, hoping to dig themselves in, so as to be able to reach our trenches at a single rush. While they were so engaged, searchlights played upon our positions, in order to dazzle the eyes of our marksmen, and from dusk to dawn "snipers" were busy picking off all who showed themselves. Nevertheless, the attacks were constantly beaten off, and at close quarters our men did great execution with the bayonet. Frequently they made successful counter-attacks.
During the first fortnight the weather was very wet, and our men were drenched to the skin. For days at a time they were knee-deep in a mixture of water and a peculiarly sticky, chalky mud which filled their eyes, ears, and throats, and could not be kept out of their food. Despite these discomforts they were as cheery and high-spirited as ever. They welcomed German attacks as a relief from the long, trying hours of waiting under a fierce and almost continuous bombardment.
The heavy guns of the enemy fired shells of eight or nine inches in diameter, which roared through the air like an express train, and exploded with a terrific report, throwing up columns of greasy, black smoke, and tearing craters in the ground big enough to hold the bodies of five horses. The Germans fully expected that these terrifying shells would drive our men crazy with fear. It was soon discovered, however, that their bark was worse than their bite, and familiarity with them bred something like contempt. Our men christened them "Black Marias,""coal boxes," and, best of all, "Jack Johnsons." They built bomb-proof shelters and "dug-outs," in which they took refuge from these monster missiles.
During those weeks on the Aisne we were at a great disadvantage because we had so few heavy guns capable of coping with those of the Germans, and because we were hopelessly outnumbered in machine guns, of which the enemy seemed to have an endless supply. On 23rd September some heavy batteries arrived from England, and enabled us to make some sort of reply; but for every shell fired by our guns the enemy fired twenty. We also suffered greatly from German spies. Disguised as peasants, they infested our lines, and as they mingled with the villagers and refugees it was very difficult for our soldiers to detect them. Frequently women were discovered acting as secret agents.
On 25th September a disaster befell the 1st Cameron Highlanders. They had suffered heavily during the retreat and in the action on the 18th, in which they lost 17 officers and over 500 men. On the 25th they were sent to relieve the Black Watch, and took over their battalion headquarters in one of the caves which occur in the chalk of the plateau. During the morning a German shell blew in the roof of the cave, and buried the inmates. A few were rescued, but the fire of the enemy was so fierce and continuous that it was not until evening that a party of Royal Engineers was able to dig out the remainder. Five officers and thirty men were found to be dead. No British regiment suffered so severely in the first two months of the war as the Camerons.
The British casualties during the fighting between 12th September and 8th October were very heavy. Sir John French estimated that in killed, wounded, and missing we lost 561 officers and 12,980 men. Most of these losses were incurred during the advance of the First Corps on 14th September. Great as these losses were, those of the Germans were still greater. It is said that not less than 50,000 Germans were put out of action in one way or another during the fighting on the Aisne.
Do you remember the famous interview between Sir Edward Goschen and Herr von Jagow on the evening of Tuesday, August 4, 1914?[132]In that interview the Kaiser's Secretary of State revealed the German plan ofcampaign. He explained that the Germans were forced to advance into France by way of Belgium because it was a matter of life and death to them to strike a decisive blow at the French as soon as possible. "If they had gone by the more southern route, they could not have hoped, in view of the fewness of the roads and the strength of the fortresses, to have got through without formidable opposition, entailing great loss of time." Let us look for a moment at this strong chain of fortresses, which the Germans were unwilling to attack because the necessary operations meant delay.