Every British boy and girl remembers Campbell's stirring lines:—[184]
"Britannia needs no bulwarks,No towers along the steep;Her march is o'er the mountain waves,Her home is on the deep."
"Britannia needs no bulwarks,No towers along the steep;Her march is o'er the mountain waves,Her home is on the deep."
In these days of fast warships, aeroplanes, and airships, we can no longer say that "Britannia needs no bulwarks, no towers along the steep." While it is probably true that no invasion of Great Britain could be successful while the British Navy remains undefeated, it is likewise true that the Navy in war time cannot guarantee that an enemy with bases on the North Sea will not be able to make sudden swoops upon certain parts of the British coast. During the darkness of night or amidst the obscurity of fog, fast warships can dash across the North Sea, turn their guns on seaside towns for a short time, and then hurry back to the safety of their own waters before a British fleet can catch them. Aeroplanes and airships can also fly across by day and drop bombs on coast towns by night. Of course, such attacks can never decide the war. At the best they can only cause panic and spread dismay amongst the people. The British, however, are not easily frightened or dismayed. Those who know the British temper best will tell you that such naval raids and air attacks can only make our people more determined than ever to defeat the enemy.
Perhaps you think that the Navy ought to protect coast towns from sudden raids. You must remember that the business of the Navy is to destroy the fleets of the enemy, and that it must always be ready to give battle whenever occasion offers. Were our warships to be strung out along the coast for the protection of towns, they would be an easy prey; they would be quite unable to concentrate rapidly in order to meet the enemy when he came out in strength or to fall upon him in the open sea on his way to or from an attack on our coasts.
During the month of October, when the German guns thundering against Ypres could be heard across the Channel, we began to prepare seriously against raids and even invasion. Mine fields were laid along the threatened shores, and within easy reach of all possible landing-places Yeomanry and Territorials were stationed, trenches were dug, wire entanglements were erected, and anti-aircraft guns were mounted. Over and over again there were false alarms that the enemy were coming. In the early days of November he made his first appearance.
Late on the afternoon of 2nd November eight German warships steamed out of the mouth of the Elbe, and cleared for action, ready for a descent upon the east coast of England. Probably some of the many German spies who then swarmed in the eastern counties had reported that the coast was clear, and that a sudden swoop had every prospect of success. The squadron consisted of theSeydlitz, theMoltke, and theVon der Tann, battle cruisers; theBluecherand theYorck, armoured cruisers; and theKolberg, theGraudenz, and theStrassburg, light cruisers. All but theYorckcould steam 25 knots an hour, and the battle cruisers mounted 11-inch guns. Early on the morning of the 3rd they ran through the nets of a fishing fleet about eight miles east of Lowestoft, and sighted an old coast patrol boat, theHalcyon. Shots were fired at her, but she managed to get away unpursued, with her wireless apparatus, bridge and funnel damaged, and one man wounded.
By eight in the morning the German ships were ten miles off Yarmouth, and had begun to aim their guns at the wireless station and the naval air station. Their shells ploughed the beach or plumped harmlessly into the sea. For a quarter of an hour they kept up their cannonade without doing any damage.Then they retired, and while doing so threw out mines to prevent pursuit. Later in the day a British submarine, D5, ran on one of these mines and was blown up. Before the voyage ended the engineer was hoisted on his own petard.[185]TheYorckcollided with another of the mines, and went to the bottom with all her crew.
The destruction of von Spee's squadron off the Falkland Islands aroused much anger and bitterness in Germany, and many Germans loudly complained that their great and expensive fleet did nothing but skulk in its ports. Stung by these reproaches, and eager to avenge the defeat in the Southern Seas, the German naval authorities now prepared a raid upon the Yorkshire coast. The distance between Heligoland and Scarborough is about 320 miles. A ship leaving Heligoland at five in the evening, and steaming between 20 and 25 knots an hour, can easily reach Scarborough about eight in the morning, spend an hour in shelling the town, and be back again at its base before midnight.
On the evening of 15th December, seven days after the Battle off the Falkland Islands, a German raiding force steamed westward from Heligoland. We do not yet know exactly what ships were included in it, but probably Rear-Admiral Funke had with him most of the vessels which took part in the former raid, as well as theDerfflinger. Before daybreak, when a thick, cold mist lay low on the coast, the squadron arrived off the mouth of the Tees. There the forces were divided. TheDerfflingerand theVon der Tann, with another vessel, probably theBluecher, were sent north against the Hartlepools; while two light cruisers, along with, probably, theSeydlitzand theGraudenz, sailed south against Scarborough.
According to the laws of war, which Germany has undertaken to recognize, unfortified towns may not be bombarded. Nobody in his senses could possibly call Scarborough a fortified town. On a green promontory there are the picturesque ruins of a castle, now crumbling to decay, and formerly there was a battery below it. But when the German ships appeared off Scarborough, its only weapon of defence was an old 60-pounder Russian gun captured in the Crimea, and sent to the town as an interesting relic. True, there was a wireless station on a hill behind the town, and some battalions of the new army were in the neighbourhood. Otherwise the Germans had not the shadow of an excuse for attacking Scarborough.
A few minutes before eight o'clock, when the all-the-year-round bathers were taking their morning dip, four strange warships were seen looming through the mist, and a few moments later the booming of guns was heard. Shells began to crash on the coastguard station and in the castle grounds, and shortly afterwards the ships steamed in front of the town to within five hundred yards of the shore. Quite unmolested, they proceeded to bombard every large object within sight. The Grand Hotel was struck by three shells; churches, public buildings, and hospitals—one of them flying the Red Cross flag—were hit, and large numbers of private houses were wrecked. Many shells were directed against the wireless station and the gas works.
For forty minutes the bombardment continued, and probably some five hundred shots were fired. Eighteen persons, chiefly women and children, were killed, and about seventy were wounded. One house was struck by a shell which glanced off a railway bridge about twenty yards distant. The whole place crumpled up as though struck by a giant's hammer, and a child of nine, another of five, the mother, and a soldier son, were instantly killed, while the father and another son were severely wounded. The number of narrow escapes was great. In some cases roofs were torn off and walls crushed in, yet the occupants remained unharmed. By a quarter to nine all was over, and the hulls of the raiding vessels disappeared round the castle promontory.
Some fifteen miles north of Scarborough is the pleasant seaside resort of Whitby, built on both sides of the estuary of the little river Esk. Those of you who have spent your holidays in the town will remember the red-tiled cottages of the fishermen, the gray walls of the quays and houses, the little bridge, and the ships sailing up the river at high tide. Most of the town is on the West Cliff, and across the river, on a high, treeless headland, are the roofless ruins of an abbey on the site of an older monastic building, which has always been regarded as the cradle of English song. It was on this spot that the first English poem composed in England flowed fromthe lips of Caedmon, a humble man who, in the seventh century, tended the cows and slept in the byre of the monastery, which was then under the rule of the abbess Hilda. For this reason Whitby is sacred all the world over to lovers of English literature. This quiet seaside place, without a vestige of fortification, was now to receive a visit of destruction from the sailors of a nation which has always professed to reverence art, learning, and literature.
About nine o'clock the coastguard at Whitby saw through the haze two warships rapidly steaming up from the south. Ten minutes later they began firing at the coastguard station on West Cliff, where many townsfolk gathered to watch the bombardment, which continued for a quarter of an hour. Some of the shots damaged the coastguard station, destroyed the western gateway of the ancient abbey on the East Cliff, and wrecked a number of private houses. Shells fell at Ruswarp, a mile inland, and damaged a school at Meadowfield. Happily, the scholars, who had just begun their morning lessons, were unhurt. In all, three persons were killed and two were injured. After the bombardment the cruisers turned northwards, and were quickly lost to view in the haze.
Meanwhile the other division had visited the Hartlepools, which stand on Tees Bay, to the north of the wide estuary of the Tees. West Hartlepool and Hartlepool proper are really one town, with important docks and shipbuilding yards, which at this time were busily engaged on Government orders. The port is defended by two small batteries of 6-inch guns, so the Germans were able to say that they were attacking a fortified place. West Hartlepool had no defence whatever—it was without a single gun. There were some companies of the new army in the town, and in the bay a gunboat, a destroyer, and a submarine were stationed.
About the time when the bombardment of Scarborough began this British flotilla encountered theDerfflinger, theVon der Tann, and theBluecherabout eight miles from the coast, on the north side of the peninsula on which Old Hartlepool stands. The British flotilla was, of course, hopelessly outclassed by the German cruisers, but with great gallantry it tried to close in and torpedo the enemy. Shots were exchanged, and the British patrol vessels were obliged to run for safety, with some five men killed and twenty-two wounded. The German cruisers now approached within 2¼ miles of the shore, and their guns opened fire. At once the two batteries, which were manned by Territorials of the Durham Garrison Artillery, who had never before fired a shot in anger, engaged the German ships with the greatest gallantry, and fought like veterans; but their 6-inch guns could not cope with the 8-inch and 11-inch guns of the enemy. Shells from the German warships burst in and around the "Heugh" battery, and killed several men.
TheBluechernow engaged the batteries while the other vessels moved farther north, shelled Old Hartlepool, and fired over the peninsula at West Hartlepool and the docks. Both the shore batteries claimed to have made hits. The streets of the old town suffered greatly; many houses and the gas works were destroyed, churches, hospitals, workhouses, factories, schools, and private houses were struck, and one of the shipbuilding yards was damaged. The docks, however, were untouched, though seven ships in them were injured. The streets were full of people when the bombardment began, and little children going to school and mothers with babies in their arms were killed. The total death-roll was 119, including nine men of the King's forces, and over four hundred persons were injured. Some six hundred houses were damaged or destroyed.
At 8.50 the fire ceased, and the cruisers disappeared, throwing out mines to prevent pursuit. That night three steamers making for the port struck some of these mines, and went down, with much loss of life.
The temper of the townsfolk was admirable. There were confusion, of course, and some panic, but for the most part the people remained calm and collected. The girls at the Hartlepool Telephone Exchange, for example, worked on steadily through the cannonade. The moment the danger was over the work of rescue and relief was begun, and the ordinary business of the day was resumed. It is said that one old lady, hearing the crash of the bursting shells, asked what was happening. When she was told, she remarked, "Hey! is it only Germans? I was frightened it was thunder!" Many of the little children who had been injured by the bursting shells or by the fall of houses showed wonderful courage in their agony.
Between nine and ten o'clock on that December morning the German vessels came together again, and started on their homeward voyage. Unhappily they managed to escape, but only by the skin of their teeth. Before the first shell was fired our Grand Fleet knew that the German squadron was off the Yorkshire coast, and immediately two battle cruisers and half a dozen battleships were sent off to engage the enemy. The fog, however, thickened as they ran south, until it stretched across the waters in a series of belts. Nevertheless the battle cruisers came within eight miles of the German vessels, which at once changed course. Just when it seemed that they were at our mercy the fog grew denser, and in the obscurity they made good their escape.
Though the German warships had escaped, they had certainly suffered. The captain of theBluecherafterwards confessed that he had ten killed and twenty wounded, and two guns put out of action. TheVon der Tannprobably suffered even more severely, and theSeydlitzdid not go scot-free.
When the news reached the Fatherland that a German squadron had bombarded English coast towns and had returned in safety there was great rejoicing. Soon, however, America and other neutral nations began to express their horror that undefended towns should have been attacked, and the Germans tried to excuse themselves by declaring that they had only attacked fortified places and an important naval signal station. As you know, the only town of the three with a semblance of defence is Hartlepool. As a matter of fact, the Germans simply killed unarmed and peaceful townsfolk in order to terrify the British people, and convince them of the hopelessness of continuing the struggle with Germany. The only result was to send a flock of recruits to the colours, and to heap further disgrace on the German Government. Mr. Winston Churchill summed up the situation exactly: "Whatever feats of arms the German Navy may hereafter perform, the stigma of the baby-killers of Scarborough will brand its officers and men while sailors sail the seas."
We must now return to the Western front and briefly follow the course of the fighting down to the end of the year. With the failure of the Kaiser's great and costly effort to break through the thin British lines before Ypres the critical moment had passed. Thenceforward through the rain and sleet and snow of winter the armies faced each other in trenches, and though the guns were rarely silent, and there were attacks and counter-attacks without number, nothing decisive took place. On both sides the combatants were more anxious to make their positions secure than to win new points of vantage.
During the closing days of November there were several gallant assaults on the German trenches by British troops, and in some of them Victoria Crosses were won. On the 23rd the Germans captured 800 yards of the trenches held by the 34th Sikh Pioneers, but a desperate counter-attack across the frosty snow in the darkness won them back again. It was in this fighting that Naik Darwan Sing Negi, as related on page170, won the highest award of valour.
In December the trench fighting was keener and more frequent. In the first days of the month the French captured the ferryman's house on the east bank of the Ypres Canal, between Dixmude and Bixschoote. For weeks they had striven to secure this post, and it was only won by much bloodshed. Shortly afterwards information was received that the German lines had been weakened by the withdrawalof troops sent to help von Hindenburg in the East, and that a good opportunity afforded itself for an attempt to improve the Allied position, especially where it was weakest—that is, from Klein Zillebeke to Messines, where the Germans were posted on low ridges which gave them good gun positions. On 14th December at seven in the morning, our guns heavily bombarded two wooded spurs to the north of Messines, which were then in possession of the enemy. The Royal Scots advanced against one of these spurs, and the Gordon Highlanders against the other; but though they showed the greatest gallantry in the attack, only the western edge of one position was won. Neither we nor the Germans could make headway in this direction.
It was in the neighbourhood of La Bassée that the most extensive operations were undertaken. On the first two days of December Maud'huy's left wing carried the Château of Vermelles,[186]three miles south of the canal. Guns posted at the château forced the Germans to retire behind the railway and abandon a village. It was at once occupied, and a gain of a mile and a half was registered.
Sir James Willcocks now decided that the time was ripe for an attack bythe Indian Corps on the advanced trenches opposite to them. Two Indian divisions then held a position from Cuinchy[187]across the railway and canal through Givenchy, and east of Festubert to Neuve Chapelle. The brigade on the right attacked at 4.30 on the morning of 19th December, and carried two lines of trenches, but found at daybreak that it had no supports on either side. It held on until dark, when it had to retire. The same fate overtook the brigade on the left. At first successful, it was finally driven back to its own lines.
Next day, 20th December, the Germans attacked the whole Indian front. Big guns and trench mortars prepared the way; then the German infantry swarmed out of their trenches and attacked the brigade which lay north of Givenchy. The Indians were forced to fall back, and by ten o'clock the Germans had captured a large part of the village. Farther south our line stood firm; but the capture of Givenchy was a serious blow, for it formed the pivot of our front. Reinforcements were hurried up, and to the 1st Manchesters, the 4th Suffolks, and two battalions of French Territorials was assigned the task of recovering the lost position. At five in the evening the Manchesters and Suffolks dashed upon the village, retook it, and cleared the enemy out of two lines of trenches to the north-east, though they could not dislodge them to the north.
Meanwhile General Macbean with an Indian force delivered an attack on the German position; but it failed, and the whole of his troops were driven back. Farther north there was serious trouble too. The advance of the Germans north of Givenchy had exposed the right of an Indian brigade, which included the 1st Seaforth Highlanders. All the afternoon of the 20th the Germans shelled the Indian left fiercely, and the troops suffered severely. Sir John French tells us that they were "pinned to the ground by artillery fire." North of the Seaforths a battalion of the 2nd Gurkhas gave way, and though the 2nd Black Watch managed to close the gap, there was a dint in our line which became a serious danger.
That afternoon Sir Douglas Haig was ordered to bring up the whole of the 1st Division to the support of the battered line. His troops attacked with great vigour, and by nightfall on 21st December most of our original trenches from Givenchy to Festubert had been won back. Meanwhile the 2nd Brigade was fighting hard farther north, and by 10 p.m. had carried the support trenches of those from which the 2nd Gurkhas had been driven. The fire trenches which the Gurkhas had occupied had been utterly destroyed by the enemy's shells, and could no longer be used. By the evening of 23rd December the whole line had been restored, and there was no longer any immediate danger. The Indians who had given way had only done so when worn out with two months' struggle, and when they had lost some ten thousand men. Thanks to Sir Douglas Haig's prompt help, the situation had been saved.
The following Victoria Crosses were awarded for outstanding deeds of gallantry during December 1914:—
Private Henry Howey Robson, 2nd Battalion Royal Scots (Lothian Regiment). On December 14, 1914, near Kemmel,[188]during an attack on the German position, Private Robson gallantly left his trench under a very heavy fire, and brought in a wounded non-commissioned officer. Later on he attempted the rescue of another man, and though wounded, persevered in his efforts until a second shot rendered him helpless. Private Robson, who belonged to South Shields, subsequently received the freedom of his native town as a tribute to his splendid bravery.
Private James Mackenzie, 2nd Battalion Scots Guards. On the 19th December, near Fromelles, about five miles south by west of Armentières, a stretcher-party tried to reach a wounded man lying in front of the German trenches, but was compelled to abandon the attempt owing to the fierce fire of the enemy. Private Mackenzie thereupon went out in the midst of a storm of bullets and succeeded in bringing the poor fellow into safety. Later in the day he tried to rescue another wounded man, but unhappily was killed in the attempt. "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."
Lieutenant Philip Neame, Royal Engineers. On the same day, near Neuve Chapelle, Lieutenant Neame, under a very heavy fire and a shower of bombs, held back the enemy, and succeeded in rescuing all the wounded men whom it was possible to move. For this display of courage and devotion he was rightly awarded the highest token of valour.
Private Abraham Acton, 2nd Battalion Border Regiment, andPrivate James Smith, 3rd Battalion Border Regiment. These two soldiers on 21st December, near Fromelles, volunteered to go out and bring in a wounded man, who for seventy-five hours had been lying exposed close to the enemy's trenches. They succeeded in rescuing him, and later in the day again left their trench, in order to bring another wounded man into cover. While carrying him into safety they were under fire for a full hour, and every moment of it they ran the risk of being shot down.
On the last day of November our troops were greatly delighted to hear that his Majesty the King had come to visit them. The Prince of Wales, who was a student at Oxford, and an enthusiastic member of the Officers' Training Corps when the war broke out, had already been at the front for some months as a member of Sir John French's Staff. Britons all over the world were delighted to know that the heir to the throne had set such a fine example to the young manhood of the nation, and that he had thrown himself into his military duties with great zeal and devotion. From the moment our troops left British shores the King's thoughts had been with them, and as soon as circumstances permitted he crossed over to France to cheer them by his presence, to show his personal interest in their welfare, to visit the wounded, and to pay the highest compliment in his power to our gallant Allies. Never since George II. had fought at Dettingen, in 1743, had a British sovereign taken his place among his troops on the field of battle.
Accompanied by the Prince of Wales, his Majesty first visited the hospitals, where he spoke with great sympathy to many of the wounded men, not only British but German. Many a poor fellow lying on his couch of suffering found himself better able to bear his pain because he knew that his King had a kindly thought for him. His Majesty also visited the Indian hospital, and talked with many of the men, who were delighted to learn that in some cases he knew the circumstances under which they had been wounded. One Sepoy sprang from his bed as his Majesty appeared, and called out in theonly English that he knew: "God save the King!"
Later on, his Majesty made a tour of the whole British front, and inspected all the troops who were not actually in the trenches. It is said that he also visited the bivouacs by night, and in every way made himself acquainted with the conditions under which the men were living and fighting. He also presented the Distinguished Service Order and Distinguished Conduct Medals to a number of soldiers who had been mentioned in dispatches, and conferred the Victoria Cross on some of those who had won the award early in the war. An officer of the Royal Engineers thus describes the inspection of his division:—
"Punctually at 1.30 the sound of distant cheering announced the arrival of the King. The troops all along the road gave three cheers, by regiments. . . . The King then walked right round the line of troops, through mud and slush. I found myself bringing up the rear with the Prince of Wales just beside me. Not a word was spoken all the way round; it was really a most impressive sight—one of those showery days with spells of fine weather and blue sky; all round the field warriors with fixed bayonets and drawn swords; in the centre the King and his suite; and up above, against the blue, two British aeroplanes, purring away, keeping off the hostile Taubes. . . . After this inspection, the King presented the medals. The men came up in turn, and the King pinned the medal on each and said a few words to each with a smile; theydidlook proud as they went away. As soon as the presentation was over the troops gave the 'Royal Salute, Present Arms,' which the King graciously acknowledged from the middle of the field. . . . At 2 p.m. all the guns in the line let off a round in his honour."
"Punctually at 1.30 the sound of distant cheering announced the arrival of the King. The troops all along the road gave three cheers, by regiments. . . . The King then walked right round the line of troops, through mud and slush. I found myself bringing up the rear with the Prince of Wales just beside me. Not a word was spoken all the way round; it was really a most impressive sight—one of those showery days with spells of fine weather and blue sky; all round the field warriors with fixed bayonets and drawn swords; in the centre the King and his suite; and up above, against the blue, two British aeroplanes, purring away, keeping off the hostile Taubes. . . . After this inspection, the King presented the medals. The men came up in turn, and the King pinned the medal on each and said a few words to each with a smile; theydidlook proud as they went away. As soon as the presentation was over the troops gave the 'Royal Salute, Present Arms,' which the King graciously acknowledged from the middle of the field. . . . At 2 p.m. all the guns in the line let off a round in his honour."
Another account tells us that the King was specially interested in the Leicesters, who had only come out of the trenches the previous midnight.
"They were in a lovely state of mud and unshavedness. The King simply revelled in them. He stopped and chatted to quite every one man in three, wanted to know all about trench fighting, and didn't seem to mind a bit their being covered in mud and unshaved for days. The Prince was just as interested. He wandered about at will, chatting with all and sundry. One man was wearing a pair of German boots, which interested the King very much. He spent quite twenty minutes with the Leicesters, and they deserved it. They have done splendidly all through."
"They were in a lovely state of mud and unshavedness. The King simply revelled in them. He stopped and chatted to quite every one man in three, wanted to know all about trench fighting, and didn't seem to mind a bit their being covered in mud and unshaved for days. The Prince was just as interested. He wandered about at will, chatting with all and sundry. One man was wearing a pair of German boots, which interested the King very much. He spent quite twenty minutes with the Leicesters, and they deserved it. They have done splendidly all through."
During the visit the King was taken to a commanding point on the line between Gheluvelt and Messines, from which he could see a wide stretch of Flanders and many of the places associated with the recent fighting. On his left he saw much-battered Ypres, and could clearly distinguish the Cathedral and the Cloth Hall. Afterwards he saw the woods east of Ypres, in which some of the hardest fights had been fought, and where so many British and their brave allies rest for ever from their heroic labours. He also met the President of the French Republic, General Foch, and other French generals, and conferred the Order of Merit upon General French. His final act before leaving for England was to confer the Order of the Garter on King Albert. Belgian troops were drawn up to receive him in the little town of Furnes, and he told them how greatly he admired the courage and constancy which they and their King had displayed during their terrible ordeal. So ended a visit which not only put new heart into our men, but welded the Allies into still closer friendship. It was felt by all who were present that the enemy's guns would boom in vain against an alliance so strengthened by the presence of Britain's King at the battle front.
Before I close the record of the year, something must be said of the fighting between the French and the Germans during the month of December. We must not forget that the British then held less than one-tenth of the Allied line in the West, and that the French trenches extended from La Bassée to the borders of Switzerland. During December, save for continuous sniping and artillery duels, there was little fighting except in the Argonne, along the Moselle, and on the steeps of the Vosges. In the Argonne, the left wing of Sarrail's army of Verdun and the right wing of the Crown Prince's army struggled in the wooded country between Varennes and Vienne.[189]You will remember that during October the Germans had made a bold bid to capture this pass which enabled Sarrail to join arms with Langle's army in Champagne.
In the wooded country, and in the hamlets north and south of the road crossing the forest, the Germans made many attacks during the winter, but all failed, and in the intervals the French showed that dash and enterprise for which they have long been famous. Some day wonderful tales will be told of scouting enterprises amidst the dark trees, where every figure showed up against the white ground; of adventurous snipers concealed in the branches of lofty firs; and of fierce night assaults amidst the snowy glens and frosty ravines. Verdun was safer than ever. Almost every week Sarrail pushed his lines out farther, till on the east he threatened the railway by which the Germans were supplied, and they had to build another, out of range. At some places the opposing trenches were only twenty yards apart. The Germans still clung to the bridgehead at St. Mihiel, on the west bank of the Meuse, but they could advance no farther.
The army of Lorraine, strongly entrenched on the east bank of the Moselle, not only maintained itself, but on the left wing gained ground; while in the Vosges the Chasseurs Alpins,[190]mounted on skis, made fierce attacks on the crests amidst the deep snow, and by their mountaineering skill and dashing enterprise carried many of them. In this section of the front there was no trench warfare, but open fighting such as the French love. When they won a German signal station on one of the crests they advanced with bugles blowing, singing theMarseillaise, and carrying before them the tricolour. Over and over again the Chasseurs, making sudden descents along mountain tracks, fell upon the enemy, and caught him unawares. They hauled their guns into almost impossible positions, and bombarded him from unexpected quarters. They gave him no rest, day or night.
Elsewhere, however, trench warfare was the order of the day, and something must be said about its main features before I conclude this volume. Let us pay a visit to the Flanders front in December. We find that the hastily-constructed trenches of October have been turned into a series of strong fortifications. We notice that the advanced firing line consists for the most part of a number of short, separate trenches,[191]each of which the enemy must win before he can advance and all of which he cannot command by flank fire. Many of these advanced trenches, though at least five feet deep, are not more than two or three feet wide. They are connected with the next line of trenches by means of zigzag communication trenches, and are but lightly held, being employed chiefly asobservation posts.
The stronghold of each series of trenches is the main firing trench in which the bulk of the defenders live. These trenches are wide and deep, and are floored with wood or hurdles. Each trench is divided into sections by means of a wall or traverse, jutting to the rear, and leaving but a narrow passage round it. By means of these traverses each section of the trench becomes a separate trench, and the whole of it cannot be enfiladed. The front towards the enemy consists of a parapet of sand-bags with loopholes, from which the men fire. As a rule, each trench is supplied with one or more machine guns.
In many places the trenches are so close, and so keen a watch is kept, that it is highly dangerous for a man to show his head above the parapet. The enemy is observed through an arrangement of mirrors called a periscope. Some of the main trenches are roofed to afford head cover, and in the walls or in pits a little to the rear are the "dug-outs"—that is, caves into which the men retire to sleep or to take shelter when the shelling becomes hot. Some distance in front of the parapet there is a strong wire entanglement. If the wire has not been previously destroyed by artillery fire, it must be cut before the enemy can get into the trench itself.
You notice that the trenches are not a fixture. Both sides "sap" towards their opponents' line, and drive mines forward until they are close to, or even under, the opposite trenches. In these mines charges are fired, and if successful, part of the trenches is blown in, and an infantry attack follows. More than once the miners of one side have found themselves separated from the miners of the other side by a mere wall of soil. Then there is feverish haste to fire a charge before the other side can do so.
All through the day "snipers" are busy on both sides. They occupy pits, or craters made by shells, or ensconce themselves in ruins, or hide amidst the branches of trees, and try to pick off all opponents who show themselves. At night patrols steal out to the "No Man's Land" between the lines, and sometimes fall in with an enemy patrol and rush it with the bayonet. What are called "listening patrols" creep as near as possible to the opposite trenches, andtry to overhear conversation, and find out what is going on in the enemy's lines. Each side burns flares to light up the darkness and make visible all movements in "No Man's Land."
In this war every device which science can suggest is in use. In trench fighting, however, we have gone back to the ways of our forefathers. Mortars are employed to throw bombs into the enemy's trenches, and hand grenades, such as those used by the earliest grenadiers, are flung by each side. A correspondent of theTimesthus describes the bomb-throwers:—
"Around their middle they carry some twenty or thirty bombs, little cylinders fastened on a long stick, around which fall streamers of ribbon. The clothing of ribbons suggests a mixed breed of Scotsmen and Red Indians who have taken to wearing the Red Indian head-dress as a kilt. In action they are stranger still. Crouching down among the barbed wire, the bombers, with their supporting infantrymen with fixed bayonets, raise themselves a little from the earth, and seizing one of these rocket-like bombs from their belts, grasp it by the stick and hurl it high above the parapet. It twists and travels uncertainly through the air, and then finally the streamers settle it in its flight, and it plunges straight as a plumb line down into the trench. There is a noise as though a gigantic Chinese cracker were jumping along the zigzag trench, and clouds of greenish smoke rise up, through which hurtle lumps of earth and stone and fragments of the outer iron ring of the bomb which constitute its shrapnel."[192]
"Around their middle they carry some twenty or thirty bombs, little cylinders fastened on a long stick, around which fall streamers of ribbon. The clothing of ribbons suggests a mixed breed of Scotsmen and Red Indians who have taken to wearing the Red Indian head-dress as a kilt. In action they are stranger still. Crouching down among the barbed wire, the bombers, with their supporting infantrymen with fixed bayonets, raise themselves a little from the earth, and seizing one of these rocket-like bombs from their belts, grasp it by the stick and hurl it high above the parapet. It twists and travels uncertainly through the air, and then finally the streamers settle it in its flight, and it plunges straight as a plumb line down into the trench. There is a noise as though a gigantic Chinese cracker were jumping along the zigzag trench, and clouds of greenish smoke rise up, through which hurtle lumps of earth and stone and fragments of the outer iron ring of the bomb which constitute its shrapnel."[192]
Life in the trenches must always be uncomfortable, and may be very trying indeed. During the winter West Flanders was a huge bog; the canals and rivers overflowed their banks, and many of the trenches were always knee-deep in slime and icy water. Large numbers of our men suffered from frost-bite in the feet. Though they were clad in sheepskin coats, and everything possible was done for their comfort, they had to bear trials and hardships such as few troops have ever endured before. The cheerfulness of our men during those bitter, dreary, and trying days was amazing. The British food supplies were excellent and unfailing. Never before has an army been fed so well. Arrangements were also made for giving the men a hot bath and a change of clothing when they returned from the trenches to their billets in the villages behind the firing line.
So the year wore on, and the season of "peace and good will towards men" arrived. On Christmas Eve a hard frost set in, and Christmas Day broke cold and misty. On that morning every officer and man in the field received a card from the King and the Queen, bearing portraits of their Majesties, and this greeting copied from the King's own handwriting: "With our best wishes for Christmas, 1914. May God protect you and bring you home safe.—Mary R. George R. I." The special card for the sick and wounded bore these words: "May you soon be restored to health." From Princess Mary's Soldiers' and Sailors' Christmas Fund came a box with an embossed cover, and inside a small gilt casket, containing a photograph of the Princess, and a card on which was printed: "With best wishes for a Happy Christmas and a Victorious New Year from Princess Mary and friends at home." Smokers found a pipe, an ounce of tobacco, and a packet of cigarettes in the box; while non-smokers discovered a supply of chocolate. An immense number of parcels containing other Christmas gifts also arrived, and everywhere Christmas fare was abundant.
Strange scenes were witnessed in parts of the firing line during the festive season. A member of the London Rifle Brigade says:—
"We had rather an interesting time in the trenches on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. We were in places less than 100 yards from the Germans, and held conversation with them across. It was agreed in our part of the firing line that there should be no firing and no thought of war on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, so they sang and played to us several of their own tunes, and some of ours, such as 'Home, Sweet Home,' 'Tipperary,' etc., while we did the same for them. The regiment on our left all got out of their trenches, and every time a flare went up they simply stood there, cheered, and waved their hats, and not a shot was fired on them. The singing and playing continued all night, and the next day (Christmas) our fellows paid a visit to the German trenches, and they did likewise. Cigarettes, cigars, addresses, etc., were exchanged, and every one, friend and foe, were real good pals. One of the German officers took a photo of English and German soldiers arm in arm with exchanged caps and helmets."On Christmas Eve the Germans burned coloured lights and candles along the top of their trenches, and on Christmas Day a football match was played between them and us in front of the trench. They even allowed us to bury all our dead lying in front, and some of them, with hats in hand, brought in one of our dead officers from behind their trench, so that we could bury him decently. They were really magnificent in the whole thing and jolly good sorts. I have now a very different opinion of the Germans. Both sides have started the firing, and are already enemies again. Strange it all seems, doesn't it?"
"We had rather an interesting time in the trenches on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. We were in places less than 100 yards from the Germans, and held conversation with them across. It was agreed in our part of the firing line that there should be no firing and no thought of war on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, so they sang and played to us several of their own tunes, and some of ours, such as 'Home, Sweet Home,' 'Tipperary,' etc., while we did the same for them. The regiment on our left all got out of their trenches, and every time a flare went up they simply stood there, cheered, and waved their hats, and not a shot was fired on them. The singing and playing continued all night, and the next day (Christmas) our fellows paid a visit to the German trenches, and they did likewise. Cigarettes, cigars, addresses, etc., were exchanged, and every one, friend and foe, were real good pals. One of the German officers took a photo of English and German soldiers arm in arm with exchanged caps and helmets.
"On Christmas Eve the Germans burned coloured lights and candles along the top of their trenches, and on Christmas Day a football match was played between them and us in front of the trench. They even allowed us to bury all our dead lying in front, and some of them, with hats in hand, brought in one of our dead officers from behind their trench, so that we could bury him decently. They were really magnificent in the whole thing and jolly good sorts. I have now a very different opinion of the Germans. Both sides have started the firing, and are already enemies again. Strange it all seems, doesn't it?"
So with a soldiers' truce ended the first five months of the war. In the West, deadlock had set in; Allies and Germans were facing each other over a front of well-nigh five hundred miles from the sodden fields of Flanders to within sight of Alpine snows, winning here and losing there a few yards of fiercely-contested ground, and enduring with what patience they could command the icy showers and the biting frost of winter. In the East, from the East Prussian wilderness of lake and morass to the wind-swept passes of the Carpathians,there was the same deadlock. On both of the main fronts of war the forces of the Central Powers were held up, and their dream of a swift and easy conquest had vanished. Nevertheless, with nearly all Belgium, a large part of industrial France, and a considerable portion of Russian Poland in their possession, they felt confident, at least, of an advantageous peace.
Amongst the Allies, however, there was no thought of peace. Unprepared for war, they had, nevertheless, foiled the first and most dangerous onslaught of a foe that, according to all the rules, should have swept them away like chaff before the wind. They had gained time in which to make up for their lack of readiness, and they now began to realize that they must put forth every effort if they were to defeat the mighty forces arrayed against them.
In Britain men flocked to the colours, and on every open space in the country drilling was going on. Already we had a million men in arms, and within six months we hoped to put double that number into the field. Time was with us. Every day saw us growing greater in men and resources, while every day the enemy was bound to decline in strength. So the Allies, strong in friendship and undaunted by their heavy losses, faced the future with unshaken courage and undaunted hope. "We shall never sheathe the sword, which we have not lightly drawn," said the Prime Minister, "until Belgium recovers in full measure all, and more than all, that she has sacrificed, until France is safe against the fear of invasion, until the rights of the small nations of Europe are placed on an unshakable foundation, and until the military tyranny of Prussia is wholly and finally destroyed." Such was the determination of Britons all over the world at the close of the year 1914.