From the higher ground near Nieuport the Germans advancedin dense masses, singing patriotic songs. The defenders fell back, and at three in the afternoon, when the Kaiser saw victory almost within his grasp, they played their last card. Under cover of British naval guns, the Belgians at high tide had been hard at work near Nieuport damming the lower reaches of the canal. The brimming waters of the Yser, swollen by the recent heavy rains, now almost overtopped its banks. At the critical moment some of the sluices were opened, and the Belgian guns broke down the banks at several places. Slowly the water spread over the flat meadows on the left bank of the canal in great shallow lagoons. The culverts and bridges beneath the railway embankment had been dammed up so as to prevent the flood from extending westwards.
Soon the Germans between the embankment and the canal found themselves a foot deep in water; their guns sank in the mud, and whole battalions were bogged. Only on a few patches of higher ground could they maintain a dry foothold. Nevertheless they pushed on through the rising waters, in the hope of capturing Ramscappelle and seizing the railway embankment before the waters could stay them. The Emperor himself called for volunteers, and two Würtemberg brigades, composed of some of the best fighting men in the German Empire, were chosen to carry the village and win undying glory.
On the 30th the great attempt was made. The Würtembergers, carrying roughly-hewn platforms, floundered through the water, and flung the "table tops" across the wider channels, thus forming bridges. While so doing, they were shot down by hundreds, but still they pressed on. Numbers told; Ramscappelle was partly occupied, and the railway line was seized. Next day French, Senegalese, and Belgians fell upon them furiously. The dismounted Bengal Lancers, who had been sent to the help of the Belgians, now exhausted by fourteen hours' continuous fighting, charged with their lances and took house after house, smashing in doors and windows to get at the German marines, who had been called up from Hamburg to take part in the struggle. In vain did the German officers, with threats and blows and pistol shots, try to prevent their men from retreating and surrendering. It is said that some twelve guns and over a thousand prisoners were taken in this furious counter-attack. Before long the Allies were over the railway embankment, and the Germanhost was hurled back into the lagoons. The "seventy-fives" came up at a gallop, rifles and machine guns cracked incessantly, and soon the waters were dotted with fallen Germans.
The flood through which the Würtembergers had waded was but the advance guard of a mighty deluge that was now about to overwhelm the whole district. Every sluice in this region of stream and canal was opened, and the brown flood spread over the land like the "bore" in a narrow estuary. Men and horses were swept from their feet and swallowed up in the seething waters; others sank to rise no more in the deep mud; field guns disappeared in the ooze, and all the while the pitiless guns of the Allies poured shot and shell on the drowning invaders. Thousands fell, but some escaped, while others struggled to dry ground, only to be taken prisoners. The attack had hopelessly failed, and the Emperor, who had been watching the struggle through his field glasses, shut them up and turned away. Once more he had been foiled at the very moment when victory seemed to be beckoning him.
On 7th November a frenzied attack was begun on Dixmude, which, as you know, was held by Ronarc'h's Bretons. From the 16th of October to the 10th of November they were fiercely but unsuccessfully assailed by three corps of the Duke of Würtemberg's army. "You have to sacrifice yourselves," said Ronarc'h to his men, "to save our left wing. Try to hold out four days." They held out for a fortnight.
On the night of the 23rd and in the early morning of the 24th no fewer than fourteen separate attacks were made upon them, but every one failed. For most of the time the marines fought in trenches up to their waists in water, and, as General Joffre told them, they were in their own element. One night the Germans, driving some captured marines before them, crept silently towards the French lines. One of the prisoners shouted a warning, but immediately paid for his loyalty with his life. The wearied defenders, hearing the shout, sprang to arms and beat off the attack.
On 10th November the Germans succeeded in capturing the broken walls and torn streets of what had once been the prosperous village of Dixmude. This success, however, had come too late. Around Ypres, as we shall learn in later pages, the flower of the German armies had everywhere been driven back from the Allied lines. All the doors to the coast were now locked, bolted, and barred. Nevertheless, fierce but futile struggles continued on the Yser until early in December, when their fury abated.
In Chapter IV. I gave you a brief account of the little city of Ypres, now about to become the storm-centre of a cyclone of blood and death such as the world has never seen before. I have told you of its commercial greatness, and of the glorious old buildings with which the rich burghers of former days adorned their city. Not only were they clever manufacturers and keen traders, but gallant soldiers as well. One of the proudest stories in their history tells how the red-coated burghers of Ypres in July 1302 joined themselves to the men of Bruges and Courtrai,[62]and marched against Count Robert of Artois, who was then overrunning Flanders with 8,000 knights of gentle blood, 10,000 archers, and 30,000 foot-soldiers. Courtrai was threatened, and the burghers of Ypres, with their fellows from other Flemish towns, arrayed themselves in front of the city and behind a tangle of dykes and canals. The chivalry of France made a furious charge, and horses and riders plunged into the trap which had been laid for them. The slaughter was terrible. Seven hundred pairs of gilded spurs hung in the abbey church of Courtrai as the spoils of battle, and the men of Ypres shared with their comrades of West Flanders the renown of victory.
Until a short time ago Ypres boasted a relic of warfare against the British. It possessed a flag captured from us in battle. At Ramillies[63]one of the regiments of the Irish Brigade[64]which fought for France managed to seize a British standard, which was proudly preserved in one of the city's convents at the outbreak of the war.
You already know something of the situation and surroundings of Ypres. It stands twenty-three miles from the dunes at Nieuport, on a canal which joins the Yser to the south of the large village of Dixmude. To the south and east of Ypres is a crescent of gentle heights, but for the rest the country is a dead flat land, and the spires of Ypres are a landmark for many a mile of Flemish meadow and marsh. Cobbled roads, skirted by lines of poplars, radiate from the town in all directions. Towards the east run two main highways—the more northerly leading to Roulers, the more southerly to Menin, and thence to Lille.
In Chapter VI. you read of the desperate stand made by the 7th Division between these two highroads, and in Chapter VIII. learned that on 19th October Sir John French had sent the First Corps to its aid. At this time Sir John hoped that an advance might be made to the north-east, and that Bruges and perhaps Ghent might be captured. He thought that Sir Douglas Haig would probably not be opposed by much more than the 3rd Reserve Corps, which he knew had suffered considerably in the earlier fighting, and perhaps by one or two Landwehr divisions. By the 21st he knew better. That day Sir Douglas Haig with the First Corps advanced along the road to Bruges, but could not proceed because the French Territorials on his left had been forced to retire behind the Yser Canal. At the same time the 7th Division between the two highroads and Allenby's cavalry beyond the Ypres-Comines canal were beingheavily attacked. Sir John's programme was therefore entirely out of the question. The Allies found themselves outnumbered by three or four to one, and Sir John himself, on the evening of the 21st, declared that the utmost that could be done, owing to the unexpected reinforcements of the enemy, was to hold the positions round Ypres until General Joffre could send a relief of French troops, which could not arrive before 24th October.
Sir Douglas Haig had therefore to halt and hold a line from Bixschoote, close to the Ypres Canal, to Zonnebeke,[65]on the Ypres-Roulers road. The remainder of the line round to Hollebeke was also held by his infantry, and south of Hollebeke Allenby's cavalry linked them up with the Third Corps, which was lying along the line of the Lys towards Armentières. Such was the position of our troops on 21st October. We were holding, you will observe, a bulge round Ypres. Any troops so placed are very insecure. They occupy a kind of wedge thrust into the territory held by the enemy, and this wedge can be attacked on each of its faces and at the jutting angle at one and the same time. If the line is broken anywhere the bulge must give way, and the troops holding it must retire and straighten out their line or suffer destruction.
You may, perhaps, ask why the Germans chose to make a great attack on Ypres. It is not a great railway centre such as Hazebrouck or Béthune; only a single line of railway runs westwards from the city. Nor was it a depôt filled with stores and valuable to the Allies as a base. The reason why the Germans threw their strength against Ypres is that it was the heart of the dangerous bulge or salient which I have just described. If the salient could have been broken through—and the task did not seem to be very difficult—the whole Allied line of defence might have been pushed back beyond Ypres and Armentières, in which case the Allies would not be able to turn the north flank of the Germans.
A frightful series of struggles soon began to rage. Day after day the gray-coated legions of the Kaiser in ever-increasing numbers swooped down on all parts of the salient, and only by almost superhuman endurance were the thin lines of the defence held against them. The line was nearly broken at Zonnebeke; it was actually pierced for a time in the centre at Becelaere, while on the extreme right a most determined assault was made against the cavalry at Kleine Zillebeke. The few reserves available were hurried to the danger points, and then began days of the heaviest possible fighting and of the utmost anxiety. One hundred thousand British, strung out along a line of twenty miles, had to hold back half a million Germans! Nor was this all: the half-million was growing in numbers every day.
On Thursday, the 22nd, the defence was just maintained; but late in the evening the line was broken between Langemarck and Bixschoote, where part of the Camerons was cut off and shut up in a wayside inn. There was also a gap between Becelaere and Gheluvelt. The Germans thrust their way in between the Scots Fusiliers and the Yorkshires, and the latter had to fight furiously and continuously on two fronts for the better part of three days in order to keep the enemy from enlarging the gap and getting through. So bitter and ruthless was the fighting that it seemed impossible that the defence could be maintained at this point. When the Bedfords restored the position on the 23rd the Yorkshires were still fighting; they had not budged. On the 30th they and the Scots Fusiliers, who had now been merged into one battalion, again saved the line, and earned the following praise from their general:—
"You have taken part in probably the fiercest combat that the world has ever seen. I have often watched you in the trenches with special interest, and on one occasion, at the crossroads at Gheluvelt—a very precarious position—I asked who was holding that particular line of trenches, which seemed a weak spot. When I was told the 2nd Yorkshires, I knew it would be all right. I knew it was a regiment I could hang my hat on at any time of the day and night. There is not a single regiment in the whole of the division for which I have more respect. I do not say it to butter you up; I say it because I mean it."
"You have taken part in probably the fiercest combat that the world has ever seen. I have often watched you in the trenches with special interest, and on one occasion, at the crossroads at Gheluvelt—a very precarious position—I asked who was holding that particular line of trenches, which seemed a weak spot. When I was told the 2nd Yorkshires, I knew it would be all right. I knew it was a regiment I could hang my hat on at any time of the day and night. There is not a single regiment in the whole of the division for which I have more respect. I do not say it to butter you up; I say it because I mean it."
From Gheluvelt onwards towards Hollebeke there was a long line of trenches which was held by dismounted cavalry. It was one of the weakest parts of the line, and the Germans pressed it hard, but not hard enough. Farther south the Third Corps was also having a bad time. At Le Gheir, two miles south of Messines, some trenches had been lost; but they were recovered by a gallant counter-attack, in which the Essex Regiment and the Lancashire Fusiliers greatly distinguished themselves.
On 23rd October, a day of great trial, an attempt was made to win back the trenches which had been lost by the Camerons on the Langemarck-Bixschoote road. The Queen's West Surrey Regiment, the Northamptons, the 1st Loyal North Lancashires, and the King's Royal Rifles were entrusted with the task. Under Major-General Bulfin they advanced in short rushes, with great determination, against a range of buildings strongly held by the Germans. After severe fighting and a dashing bayonet attack the place was captured, the lost trenches were recovered, and the imprisoned Camerons were released. Some 600 prisoners were taken, and the old front was restored. The Loyal North Lancashires and the "Cobblers"—that is, the Northamptons—showed to great advantage in the final bayonet charge.
A special order which was issued three days later reads as follows:—
"The Brigadier-General congratulates the 1st Loyal North Lancashire Regiment, Northamptonshire Regiment, and the 2nd King's Royal Rifle Corps; but desires especially to commend the fine soldierlike spirit of the 1st Loyal North Lancashire Regiment, which, advancing steadily under heavy shell and rifle fire, aided by its machine guns, was enabled to form up within a short distance of the enemy's trenches. Fixing bayonets, the battalion then charged, carried the trenches, and occupied them, and to them must be allotted the majority of the prisoners captured. The Brigadier-General congratulates himself on having in his brigade a battalion which, after marching the whole of the previous night without rest or food was able to maintain its splendid record in the past by the determination and self-sacrifice displayed in this action."
On the same day the enemy pushed a corps of their new levies against the British line near Langemarck. Most of these newcomers had scarcely been under training for more than two months, yet they hurled themselves on our trenches with extraordinary courage and doggedness. They were mown down by our fire, but they came on again and again till the front was strewn with dead. It is said that three-quarters of the whole corps were put out of action on that day, and that some 1,500 German corpses lay round Langemarck that evening. Shortly afterwards French reinforcements arrived, and brought a welcome relief to the hard-pressed troops holding the salient.
It was on the 23rd October that Drummer William Kenny won the Victoria Cross for various deeds of gallantry, which will be related later on.
On the 24th, when the Germans were across the Yser, and the Belgians were preparing to open the sluices,[66]the enemy struck hard against the Allied line all the way from Dixmude to La Bassée. At 6 a.m. part of the 7th Infantry Division, which was holding a position near Gheluvelt, was very violently attacked. Mr. C. Underwood, an interpreter with this division, gives us a vivid picture of the terrible straits in which his brigade found itself, and of the arrival of reinforcements in the very nick of time.
"We got a message from headquarters," he writes inBlackwood's Magazine, "saying that we must hold out at all costs, as reinforcements were coming up as quickly as possible to our support. A corporal in charge of prisoners said that the Wiltshire Regiment had suffered terribly, as also the Scots Fusiliers, both having been badly peppered with 'Jack Johnsons,' which had buried many of them alive in their trenches."At 7 a.m. next morning (the 24th) Captain Drysdale came up to me and asked me to hurry up two battalions which were expected every minute from the First Army Corps. The position was most critical,as we had not one man left to support the firing line, which was being very hardly pressed, and might give way at any moment. At last, then, the long-expected supports were arriving. Our men had behaved like heroes all. This was the seventh day since we engaged the Germans, one division extending over an unheard-of front of eight miles, and holding up what I understood from one of our prisoners yesterday to be a force of three army corps—that is, 15,000 to 20,000 British against 150,000 Germans! The ordeal of the last three days had been terrible. These brave fellows actually had no sleep for seven days, and had never left the trenches, fighting night and day, sticking to them until they were literally blown out of them or buried alive. They were now becoming pieces of wood, sleeping standing up, and firing almost mechanically, with the slightest support from our guns, which were now outclassed...."Having got on to the road, I found the Northumberland Hussars,[67]who had evidently been brought up with the idea of their taking possession of the trenches if the supports were not up in time. In ten minutes I sighted the head of a battalion swinging up the road, and ran down as directed to hurry them up. Found them to be the Highland Light Infantry and King's Own Scottish Borderers. I told the commanding officer the position, and he doubled them round the wood to the trenches which our fellows were holding with their last gasp."
"We got a message from headquarters," he writes inBlackwood's Magazine, "saying that we must hold out at all costs, as reinforcements were coming up as quickly as possible to our support. A corporal in charge of prisoners said that the Wiltshire Regiment had suffered terribly, as also the Scots Fusiliers, both having been badly peppered with 'Jack Johnsons,' which had buried many of them alive in their trenches.
"At 7 a.m. next morning (the 24th) Captain Drysdale came up to me and asked me to hurry up two battalions which were expected every minute from the First Army Corps. The position was most critical,as we had not one man left to support the firing line, which was being very hardly pressed, and might give way at any moment. At last, then, the long-expected supports were arriving. Our men had behaved like heroes all. This was the seventh day since we engaged the Germans, one division extending over an unheard-of front of eight miles, and holding up what I understood from one of our prisoners yesterday to be a force of three army corps—that is, 15,000 to 20,000 British against 150,000 Germans! The ordeal of the last three days had been terrible. These brave fellows actually had no sleep for seven days, and had never left the trenches, fighting night and day, sticking to them until they were literally blown out of them or buried alive. They were now becoming pieces of wood, sleeping standing up, and firing almost mechanically, with the slightest support from our guns, which were now outclassed....
"Having got on to the road, I found the Northumberland Hussars,[67]who had evidently been brought up with the idea of their taking possession of the trenches if the supports were not up in time. In ten minutes I sighted the head of a battalion swinging up the road, and ran down as directed to hurry them up. Found them to be the Highland Light Infantry and King's Own Scottish Borderers. I told the commanding officer the position, and he doubled them round the wood to the trenches which our fellows were holding with their last gasp."
On this day, 24th October, the point of the salient gave way. The gallant Wiltshires were driven in, and the Germans pushed into a wood west of Becelaere, where there was much desperate fighting for days to come. The Warwicks were ordered to make a counter-attack, in the course of which they lost 105 officers and men, including their colonel. He had been wounded in the foot three days before, but he nevertheless led his men in the charge with fiery courage. His horse was shot under him, but he found another, which was also shot, and this time Colonel Loring rose no more. In those dread days of struggle no regiment played a more heroic part than the Warwicks; they emerged from the ordeal a mere ghost of their former strength.
It was noticeable at this time that the Germans, though they repeatedly pierced our line, did not follow up the advantage which they had gained. Perhaps this was due to the rawness of the troops; perhaps to the fact that they were weary with much fighting; but more probably to bad leadership, for even the famous Prussian Guard, in later assaults, more than once came to a standstill after it had broken the British line. Whatever the reason may have been, the Allies had cause to be thankful that the enemy failed to "make good."
On the evening of the 25th the 20th Brigade of the 7th Division, which was then holding a position to the south of Gheluvelt, was forced to retire. The Germans broke through our lines, and the 2nd Scots Guards, after repelling the enemy, were pushed back with terrible losses. Thanks, however, to a splendid charge by the 7th Cavalry Brigade, the situation was saved. In these operations Lord Innes Ker, who led the advance guard, won great distinction. Meanwhile the Third Corps, resting on Armentières had been very hard pressed, and had been forced to fall back to a position of less risk.
A French line division and some Territorials were brought up on the night of the 24th-25th, and were concentrated about Zillebeke. Meanwhile the 2nd Division made good progress tothe north-east, and captured some guns and prisoners. On the 27th Sir John French went to the headquarters of the 1st Division to inquire into the condition of the 7th Division, which had been marching and fighting for a whole month, and was becoming very weak. He broke up Sir Henry Rawlinson's command, and the much-tried 7th Division was absorbed into the First Corps.
On the 28th there was a lull before the coming storm. The enemy was preparing for a mighty onslaught upon our whole line. About 5.30 the next morning a wireless message was intercepted, telling us what the Germans proposed to do. The Emperor had given orders that the line in front of Ypres must be broken at all costs, and three German corps were being massed for the purpose. The critical moment was at hand.
Early on the morning of Thursday, the 29th, a mass assault was delivered against the crossroads one mile east of Gheluvelt. All morning the tide of battle ebbed and flowed. The 1st Division was driven from its trenches, and for a time the German thrust seemed to have succeeded. Mr. Underwood thus relates an incident which took place when the outlook was black indeed:—
"As I was watching the woods on our left front towards the Gheluvelt-Menin road, I saw the Yorks retiring and the Gordons advancing. I pointed this out to the general, who immediately sent to find out by whose orders they were retiring. Presently, to our consternation, the Gordons came back farther down the road towards Gheluvelt; before we could do anything, the Yorks came streaming over the open ploughed land. The general galloped down the road to stop the Gordons, and I tried to stop the Yorks, who persisted that the order had been given to them to retire. We concluded that the order must have been given by a German officer, and formed them up along the road under a terrible shrapnel fire. They were being bowled over like ninepins, as the Germans must have seen them crossing the open. We tumbled them into the ditch alongside the road, and it was a pitiable sight to see the poor fellows who were still in the open and badly hit trying to crawl along towards our headquarters to take shelter from the hail of shrapnel bullets.... They were by now all lying out under the wall of the farm, and the place looked like a shambles. It was a splendid sight to see Lieutenant Jardine of the R.A.M.C. running out under a hail of bullets and bringing in one wounded man after another on his back.... Presently the shell fire died down a bit, and the men in the ditches alongside the road, having had time to recover, advanced once more to regain the ground which they had lost.... One poor chap of the Warwicks whom I spoke to, and had been very badly mauled, said, 'Well, sir, England can't say we did not stick it to the last.'"
"As I was watching the woods on our left front towards the Gheluvelt-Menin road, I saw the Yorks retiring and the Gordons advancing. I pointed this out to the general, who immediately sent to find out by whose orders they were retiring. Presently, to our consternation, the Gordons came back farther down the road towards Gheluvelt; before we could do anything, the Yorks came streaming over the open ploughed land. The general galloped down the road to stop the Gordons, and I tried to stop the Yorks, who persisted that the order had been given to them to retire. We concluded that the order must have been given by a German officer, and formed them up along the road under a terrible shrapnel fire. They were being bowled over like ninepins, as the Germans must have seen them crossing the open. We tumbled them into the ditch alongside the road, and it was a pitiable sight to see the poor fellows who were still in the open and badly hit trying to crawl along towards our headquarters to take shelter from the hail of shrapnel bullets.... They were by now all lying out under the wall of the farm, and the place looked like a shambles. It was a splendid sight to see Lieutenant Jardine of the R.A.M.C. running out under a hail of bullets and bringing in one wounded man after another on his back.... Presently the shell fire died down a bit, and the men in the ditches alongside the road, having had time to recover, advanced once more to regain the ground which they had lost.... One poor chap of the Warwicks whom I spoke to, and had been very badly mauled, said, 'Well, sir, England can't say we did not stick it to the last.'"
In the counter-attack to which the Gordons were now advancing nearly the whole of the First Corps was engaged. Some very gallant charges were made, in one of which Lieutenant J.A.O. Brooke of the 2nd Gordons won the Victoria Cross and lost his life as you will read later on. About 2 p.m. the enemy began to give way, and by dark most of the line north of the Menin road had been recovered. The same day the Third Corps was heavily assailed at Le Gheir, in what our soldiers call "Plugstreet" Woods,[68]and there was desperate fighting beneath its ragged larches. Here, again, trenches were lost and won. The Middlesex were driven out; but the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders nobly came to the rescue, and against great odds recaptured the trenches and slew almost every German in them.
The attempt to break through to the south of Ypres was repeated with even greater vigour on the 30th. In the gray dawn a heavy bombardment was begun on the trenches held by our cavalry at Zandvoorde, a village about a mile and a half south of Gheluvelt. So fierce was the fire that no living thing could remain in the trenches. One troop was buried alive, and soon the whole division was obliged to withdraw to a ridge about a mile west of the village. This meant that the troops on the right were uncovered, and were obliged to fall back to preserve the line. While this movement was going on, the situation was about as serious as it could well be. The enemy had been reinforced, and had now gained possession of Zandvoorde. The Scots Greys and the Hussars were hurried up, and the ridge was held until evening, when the 4th (Guards) Brigade arrived and took over the line. They held it in trenches with water above their knees for twenty-three days.
The salient was sharper than ever now, and therefore even more dangerous than before. The weakest place lay between Gheluvelt and the corner of the canal near Hollebeke. Had the Germans reached the canal they would have cut off the British holding the salient to the north, and nothing could have saved Ypres. The Emperor was on the field and he had told his men that if Ypres were captured the war would be over, and the victory of Germany would be complete. Sodesperate was the situation that Sir Douglas Haig determined to hold the line from Gheluvelt to the corner of the canal at all costs. He moved up reserves to the rear of the line, and made other preparations to resist the great assault of the morrow.
Farther south there was great peril too. The cavalry had been driven out of Hollebeke, and had fallen back on the Ypres-Armentières road, where there was heavy fighting. The line of the Third Corps had been broken, but the rent had been repaired by the gallantry of the Somerset Light Infantry. Reserves were called up, and were stationed at Neuve Eglise, about three miles south-west of Messines. With these reserves came the first infantry Territorial regiment to take the field—the London Scottish.
North of Zandevoorde there was also great danger of disaster. A battalion of the Royal Welsh Fusiliers found the troops on their right pushed back by sheer weight of numbers, and they themselves exposed to a most galling fire from machine guns on their flank. Their losses were terrible, but still they held on, and when the fight was over the battalion had almost ceased to exist. The Royal Scots Fusiliers suffered in like manner; but they and the remnant of the Yorkshires, bunched together into one battalion, held their trenches until dark. The Allied line was pushed back to the verge of Gheluvelt, and when night fell it seemed as though the Kaiser had spoken the truth when he declared, "Ypres will be mine by 1st November."
During the fighting around Ypres the Royal Flying Corps did splendid service. ADaily Newscorrespondent tells of one young flying man who seemed to make a perfect hobby of his work. The following account of his doings will give you an excellent idea of how airmen direct the fire of guns. "From dawn to sunset," says the correspondent, "this young officer is up and about, doing the most wonderful things with the utmost coolness. The other morning, up ahead of the lark, he volplaned[69]from a great height right in the midst of the German lines, as though he meant to make a brief morning call for breakfast. The Germans were too astonished forthe moment to do anything but gasp and gape at him, though he was easily within range. He impudently stopped his engine, dropped half a dozen 'puffs' (as our Tommies call the aeroplane bombs) into a cavalry cluster, waved his hand, and off and above he went again.
"Hundreds of rifle shots whirred around him as he fled; two of them struck him; and three minutes later he was down in the British lines once more, with blood trickling through the rents in his tunic. He was patched up and bandaged, had a good, hearty lunch, and before teatime he was up again in one of his mad frolics in the air. 'Surely you've had enough for one day,' said General ——; 'have a rest at least until to-morrow. We don't want to lose these matinée performances of yours; they're too fine for anything.' But the young aviator jammed his armoured helmet on his head, and said he couldn't resist making a flight, because it was great fun, and kept him fit. So off he went again.
"That afternoon he excelled himself. There was a well-screened German battery which was doing nasty work from behind a slight rise at the back of the enemy's trenches. This was the airman's quarry. Up and up he went in quick, climbing spirals, and when he was at a height of 2,000 feet he poised for a spell to spot the lurking-place of the battery. When he had discovered it he, flew above it, and signalled to our gunners to drop their shells immediately below him. They fired; the shells fell some distance to the right. He next signalled to the range-finders to swing their guns more to the left. Again they fired, but the shells went too far. A third time he signalled, and the first of our shells that fell in the new direction wrecked the limber of the foremost German gun, smashing up horses and men alike. Good! Instantly the airman indicated that the range had been found, and then shell after shell burst over and among the battery which had been flogging us so mercilessly earlier in the day. In five minutes all that was left of it broke away from the cunning screen which masked it, and fled across country. The general, who had been watching the affair through his field glasses, cried, 'Splendid! Magnificent! The best show I've ever witnessed. That man must have a heart of steel in a body of iron.' When the daring aviator descended the general warmly congratulated him, and shook him by the hand. 'You're almost too good to last,' he said. The airman only laughed."
In the account of the fighting round Ypres nothing has been said of ourartillery. Sir John French thus writes concerning it: "I cannot speak too highly of the valuable services rendered by the Royal Artillery throughout the battle." He also tells us that, though the enemy brought up guns of great range and power, our artillery overmastered them. Splendid work was done by a number of young artillery officers, who in the most gallant manner pressed forward in the vicinity of the firing line in order to direct their guns at the right targets, and at the right moment. Here is a story which illustrates the skill and courage of these young officers.
"In many instances," says aTimescorrespondent, "artillery subalterns have taken up dangerous positions well in advance of the front line of infantry, and, telephone in hand, have given the range to the gunners with perfect calmness. I was told of an incident which is typical of the splendid devotion of these men. A young lieutenant had posted himself in a tower a few hundred yards from the German trenches. He had telephoned his orders regularly for half an hour. Then he said, without any trace of excitement, to the operator on the other side, 'I hear the Germans coming up the stairs. I have my revolver. Don't believe anything more you hear.' With these words he dropped the receiver, and he has not been heard of since."
Before I proceed with the story of the critical day in the great struggle for Ypres, let me give you a few soldiers' stories of the fighting which took place during the month of October. Hundreds of attacks and counter-attacks were made and repelled during that terrible month, and a thousand deeds of the utmost gallantry were performed. Some of them won the highest award of valour, as we shall learn at the close of this chapter; but hundreds of others, equally splendid, went unrecorded and unrecognized, probably because they were not witnessed by superior officers. We must always remember, when we read accounts of gallant deeds done in battle, that they are but few out of many which deserve to be inscribed on the roll of fame. It has been well said that during the month of October 1914 the Victoria Cross was won a dozen times every day.
Here is a story of a boy hero, a private in the D Company of the 2nd Manchesters, of whose exploits you have already read. His name was Preston; he was eighteen years of age, and was known as the "baby" of his regiment. On 20th October the Manchesters were surrounded, and their trenches were enfiladed by German fire. First the lieutenant was wounded, then the sergeant, and the company was left without a single officer in command. While the men were wondering what to do, Private Preston threw up his cap and shouted, "Fix bayonets, lads!" The company obeyed his order, and he led them in a wild and successful charge against the enemy. Six days later this gallant and resourceful boy was killed inaction.
A private of the South Wales Borderers tells how some Germans disguised as gravediggers attempted to rush a British trench. "We knew that the Germans had a recognized corps of gravediggers," he says, "but we found that the supposed gravediggers now advancing were armed not only with picks and shovels, but with rifles also. When they came within range they fired. We did likewise, and soon saw their backs. Later we caught three of them—an officer and two privates. The officer was a tall, brawny fellow, six feet in his stockings. A little Cockney in our regiment went up to the German officer, and, not supposing that he would be understood, said fiercely, 'For two pins I'd knock your blooming head off.' Imagine his surprise when the German giant, looking down upon him, replied in perfect English, 'Don't! I can't help this war. Like yourself, I must fight for my country.'"
You have already heard from Mr. C. Underwood of the fine work done by Lieutenant Jardine of the R.A.M.C. on the Gheluvelt-Menin road during 29th October. An eye-witness says: "There was a man of small stature, Lieutenant Jardine, of the 21st Field Ambulance, who made frequent journeys from the shelter of a château at Gheluvelt to the trenches. He continually faced a hurricane of fire, and to see the little man coming back with a heavy burden on his shoulders was a sight not to be forgotten. After he had visited the trenches a number of times he had the appearance of a butcher straight from the slaughter-house. Many men owe to him the fact that they are alive to-day." Nor must we forget the Field Ambulance men, who "time after time came into the open to carry the more seriously wounded from the trenches."
Don't forget that there is plenty of opportunity for the display of courage, even behind the firing line. The following little story illustrates the steadfastness and resource of a man in the Army Ordnance Corps—that is, the branch of the service which conveys ammunition to the places where it is needed. Five motor lorries conveying ammunition hadbeen cut off by the Germans. The men in charge of them blew up the ammunition and made off across country. One, however, refused to leave, and remained hidden in a wood near the side of the road. The Germans, finding the ammunition destroyed, passed on, and the hidden soldier came out of his hiding-place. Finding the wheels of the lorries intact, he managed to start one of the motors. He then hitched the other four lorries behind, and slowly brought the convoy safely into the British camp.
Major Viscount Dalrymple, of the Scots Guards, the first member of Parliament to be taken prisoner, gives the following account of his adventures:—
"We came out in a great hurry in the dark and pouring rain on the night of 25th October, having heard that a trench held by Major Willie Holbeck and a platoon on the right flank had been overwhelmed. It was a beastly trench, next to the one I was in on the previous day, and by nightfall the Germans were entrenched only 100 yards in front of it. Willie was shelled and shot at in it all day, and they rushed him in large numbers in the dark of the evening. He and Corporal Maclean and a few others bolted back a hundred yards or so, and then tried to retake it with the bayonet, but failed. Major Hugh Fraser and I, with the remainder of the right flank and the left flank under Captain Fox, hurried off to the village, and when we got there we heard that a lot of Germans—more than 1,000—were marching along the street away from us.
"We were not sure whether to try to clear the village first, or whether to try to retake the lost trench. Eventually Major Fraser and Major Holbeck started up the track straight to the lost trench. When Fraser got fairly near the trench he found it full of Germans. He shouted, 'Have a go at them!' and charged practically by himself. He was shot at once, as were, I think, most of his men. Major Willie Holbeck had his right thigh bone broken by a bullet. I did not hear much firing, and had no idea of what had happened until Holbeck crawled back.
"Meanwhile I had discovered that a house near by us was full of Germans, so I sent Captain Fox along the road nearly opposite, and advanced on it myself with a platoon and a few more men. When we got within twenty yards or so theystarted firing at us. I shouted to the men to charge, and rushed over the hedge at the enemy. I was just going to bayonet an officer, when my men shot him, and he pulled me over by the leg as he fell. Then the Germans came out of the house, swarms of them. Some gave themselves up, while others fired at us out of a wood alongside, only about five yards away; until I got hold of a prisoner, and, pushing him round in front of me, told him to tell the others to surrender. He did so, and they surrendered to the number of 188 men and seven officers. Two of their officers had been killed, and a good many of their men; but I had two of my best sergeants and I don't know how many men killed and wounded. It took the whole left flank company to take the prisoners away, and I was not left with enough to attack the lost trench.
"About 7 a.m. on the 26th the shelling began, and there was a lot of sniping from the village at my right rear. Presently I saw about sixty Germans, who had been hiding, bolting across our rear, and I think, between our fire and the German shelling, they must have been wiped out. Then the shelling got terrific, absolutely all over us. At one time for two consecutive minutes I counted over sixty shells a minute bursting within fifty yards or so of my trench. I was twice hit by pieces, which, however, did no harm, and none of my little section were touched. Our trench got pretty uninhabitable—fired at from front and rear and on one flank, the shells coming thick all the time.
"Then word came from the trench on my left, held by a mixture of Staffords and Grenadiers and my men, that the Grenadiers on the left had retired. I shouted back that it was nonsense, and to stick to the trenches and fire whenever opportunity offered. I did not think there could be any genuine attack until they stopped shelling us.
"About 3.30 I suddenly heard a bugle sounding 'Cease fire,' or something or other, on our right, and saw the next trench on the right full of Germans, and our people surrendering. . . . The Germans were all round except on the left, and I think our people had gone from there; so I told our men to lie low in the trenches, in case the Germans did not come so far, which they unfortunately did." Viscount Dalrymple and his little force were surrounded and forced to surrender. "I was marched off with about sixty men, mostly Staffordshires and King's Company Grenadiers, only about eight of my own, and one Staffordshire subaltern. At a village some way off I found the rest of our people.
"Eight of us were in a second-class compartment for forty-eight hours—that is, every seat full—and were not allowed to lie down, stand up, or look out of the windows. If we opened a window it was generally shut again. After we had been in this compartment for about thirty hours we were given a plateful of potato soup with a little meat in it. We had not had anything to eat or drink for twenty-four hours previous to being captured, and had been under heavy fire the whole of the time."
Private G. Owen of the Royal Welsh Fusiliers, who was mentioned in dispatches for conspicuous bravery on the field, thus describes the incident which won him the proud distinction:—"You will be surprised to hear about me getting mentioned in dispatches for helping a wounded comrade who had been shot in the leg and had had his thigh broken. I will tell you shortly how it happened. We had been warned to draw rations from a farmhouse just on the other side of our trenches, which was being shelled, and had a Maxim playing on it. Well, we had drawn tea for our comrades, and we had to go back for some eatables. We made a run for it. I was first, and got through the gate into the field, when I heard a shout of 'O Jerry, I'm hit!'
"I ran back, and saw my mate lying in the road with his thigh broken by a bullet from the sniper with the Maxim. I caught hold of him the best way I could, and got him to safety with the help of the officer in charge, while the bullets and shells were screaming round for more victims."
A newspaper correspondent tells us of a little Welshman who made a great reputation as a sniper[70]during the fighting in front of Ypres. "If there is one thing," he says, "that the German soldier is beginning to be an adept in it is sniping. He has learnt many tricks, and the British soldier in the trenches pays him the utmost respect. He climbs trees, he worms along the ground, sometimes as stealthily as a Gurkha; in a field ofroots he sticks a turnip on the spike of his helmet, and, thus disguised, sends quick death among an incautious enemy. He shoots straight, and is not afraid. But this little Welshman is claimed by his comrades to be king of them all. He spends each night at it, and his regiment's trenches are now rarely disturbed by even the most venturesome German sharpshooters. He steals forward as lightly as a cat, fires, and, slipping aside, awaits the enemy's reply. The flashes of their rifles give him a mark. He shoots at the nearest, and repeats the performance as often as the enemy will oblige him by disclosing their positions.
"A London scoutmaster was sent out one night to ascertain the enemy's intentions. He found the Welshman ahead, and in whispers explained his object. The sniper bade him follow, and the scoutmaster quickly found himself less than twenty yards from the German trenches, undiscovered and unsuspected. This little Welshman in private life is a revivalist preacher."
An American correspondent who witnessed the British monitors[71]shelling the German trenches tells us the following story of a gallant British naval officer who fell while trying to aid the stricken Belgians. "As we watched the fighting we were joined by a Belgian captain, who told us the story of an English lieutenant[72]who had landed that morning. This officer came ashore from the monitorSevernwith twenty men and three machine guns. Reaching Nieuport, he saw that the Belgians by losing a farm that morning had weakened their position. Accordingly he started with his twenty men across the bullet-swept area right to the trenches. Men who saw him say he walked as calmly as if on a tour of inspection, calling orders to his men, and signalling with his hands. In vain the Belgian officers shouted that their position was already occupied by Germans. Either he did not hear or he was determined to accomplish the task at all costs. When fifty yards from the coveted goal the young officer fell dead, a bullet having struck him between the eyes. The men retreated, carrying with them the guns and the memory of a hero worthy in all respects of the high traditions of the British navy."