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| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-06 10:13:26 -0800 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-06 10:13:26 -0800 |
| commit | e5a549c99f4c0b0d76011f1b6c42a22f716c8b55 (patch) | |
| tree | f70964ef44fd53e1d8a8931f445579d0cb346f56 /53151-h | |
| parent | a0a6d1b17b9aafcd25f42355b706291974b57d1b (diff) | |
As captured February 6, 2025
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-<pre>
-
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of In The Firing Line, by A. St. John Adcock
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: In The Firing Line
- Stories of the War By Land and Sea
-
-Author: A. St. John Adcock
-
-Release Date: September 27, 2016 [EBook #53151]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN THE FIRING LINE ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Brian Coe, Charlie Howard, and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
-file was produced from images generously made available
-by The Internet Archive)
-
-
-
-
-
-
-</pre>
-
-
-<div class="transnote">
-<p class="center">Transcriber’s Note</p>
-
-<p>The reasons for using extra spacing between some paragraphs
-were unclear to the Transcriber, so they were just replicated
-the same way in this eBook, and do not necessarily mean what
-they do in other eBooks.</p>
-
-<p>Other Notes will be found at the end of this eBook.</p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="newpage figcenter" style="max-width: 25.625em;">
-<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="546" height="800" alt="Cover" />
-</div>
-
-<div class="newpage p4 center narrow10 xlarge bbox">
-<div class="bbox vspace">
-The Daily Telegraph<br />
-<span class="smaller bold wspace">WAR BOOKS</span>
-</div></div>
-
-<h1 class="nobreak wspace b4">IN THE FIRING LINE</h1>
-
-<div class="newpage p4 center narrow35 bbox thickert">
-<table class="p1" summary="booklist heading">
- <tr>
- <td class="tdc">Cloth <br /><span class="xxlarge bold">1/-</span><br />net<br />each</td>
- <td class="tdc large bbox dbl vspace">The Daily Telegraph<br />WAR BOOKS</td>
- <td class="tdc">Post<br />free<br /><span class="larger">1/3</span><br />each</td>
- </tr>
-</table>
-
-<p class="p1 center">
-<span class="bold">HOW THE WAR BEGAN</span><br />
-By W. L. COURTNEY, LL.D., and J. M. KENNEDY<br />
-<br />
-<span class="bold">THE FLEETS AT WAR</span><br />
-By ARCHIBALD HURD<br />
-<br />
-<span class="bold">THE CAMPAIGN OF SEDAN</span><br />
-By GEORGE HOOPER<br />
-<br />
-<span class="bold">THE CAMPAIGN ROUND LIEGE</span><br />
-By J. M. KENNEDY<br />
-<br />
-<span class="bold">IN THE FIRING LINE</span><br />
-By A. ST. JOHN ADCOCK<br />
-<br />
-<span class="bold">GREAT BATTLES OF THE WORLD</span><br />
-By STEPHEN CRANE<br />
-Author of “The Red Badge of Courage.”<br />
-<br />
-<span class="bold">BRITISH REGIMENTS AT THE FRONT</span><br />
-The story of their Battle Honours.<br />
-<br />
-<span class="bold">THE RED CROSS IN WAR</span><br />
-By Miss MARY FRANCES BILLINGTON<br />
-<br />
-<span class="bold">FORTY YEARS AFTER</span><br />
-The Story of the Franco-German War. By H. C. BAILEY.<br />
-With an Introduction by W. L. COURTNEY. LL.D.<br />
-<br />
-<span class="bold">A SCRAP OF PAPER</span><br />
-The Inner History of German Diplomacy.<br />
-By E. J. DILLON<br />
-<br />
-<span class="bold">HOW THE NATIONS WAGED WAR</span><br />
-A companion volume to “How the War Began,” telling how the world faced<br />
-Armageddon and how the British Army answered the call to arms.<br />
-By J. M. KENNEDY<br />
-<br />
-<span class="bold">AIR-CRAFT IN WAR</span><br />
-By S. ERIC BRUCE<br />
-<br />
-<span class="bold">FAMOUS FIGHTS OF INDIAN NATIVE REGIMENTS</span><br />
-<br />
-<span class="bold">THE TRIUMPHANT RETREAT TO PARIS</span><br />
-<br />
-<span class="bold">THE RUSSIAN ADVANCE</span><br />
-</p>
-<p class="center"><span class="bold"><i>OTHER VOLUMES IN PREPARATION</i></span></p>
-</div>
-<div class="center narrow35 bbox thickerb b4">
-PUBLISHED FOR THE DAILY TELEGRAPH<br />
-BY HODDER & STOUGHTON, WARWICK SQUARE<br />
-LONDON, E.C.
-</div>
-
-<div id="if_i_004" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 30.75em;">
- <img src="images/i_004.jpg" width="492" height="600" alt="" />
- <div class="caption">
-
-<div class="floatl">
-<i>Drawn by Philip Daddd.</i></div>
-<div class="floatr"><i>Copyright of The Sphere.</i></div>
-
-<p class="floatc"><span class="smcap">Charge of British Hussars against German Cuirassiers in a Village
-of Northern France.</span><br />
-</p></div></div>
-
-<hr />
-<p class="newpage center xlarge vspace wspace bold">
-IN THE FIRING<br />
-LINE</p>
-
-<p class="p2 center wspace">STORIES OF THE WAR BY LAND AND SEA</p>
-
-<p class="p2 center vspace wspace large"><span class="small">BY</span><br />
-<span class="smcap">A. St. JOHN ADCOCK</span></p>
-
-<p class="p2 center large vspace wspace">HODDER AND STOUGHTON<br />
-<span class="smaller">LONDON NEW YORK TORONTO</span><br />
-<span class="small">MCMXIV</span>
-</p>
-
-<hr />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2><a id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2>
-</div>
-
-<table id="toc" summary="Contents">
-<tr><td class="tdr top">I.</td><td class="tdl">THE BAPTISM OF FIRE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#I">7</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="tdr top">II.</td><td class="tdl">THE FOUR DAYS’ BATTLE NEAR MONS</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#II">16</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="tdr top">III.</td><td class="tdl">THE DESTRUCTION OF LOUVAIN</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#III">73</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="tdr top">IV.</td><td class="tdl">THE FIGHT IN THE NORTH SEA</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#IV">90</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="tdr top">V.</td><td class="tdl">FROM MONS TO THE WALLS OF PARIS</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#V">111</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="tdr top">VI.</td><td class="tdl">THE SPIRIT OF VICTORY</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#VI">185</a></td></tr>
-</table>
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_7">7</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2><span class="larger">IN THE FIRING LINE</span></h2>
-</div>
-
-<hr />
-<h2 class="nobreak vspace"><a id="I"></a>I<br />
-
-<span class="subhead"><span class="smcap">The Baptism of Fire</span></span></h2>
-
-<div class="poem-container">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="iq">“<i>E’en now their vanguard gathers,</i><br /></span>
-<span class="i4"><i>E’en now we face the fray.</i>”</span></div>
-
-<div class="attrib"><span class="smcap">Kipling.</span>—<cite>Hymn before Action.</cite>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>The War Correspondent has become old-fashioned
-before he has had time to grow old; he was made
-by telegraphy, and wireless has unmade him. The
-swift transmission of news from the front might
-gratify us who are waiting anxiously at home,
-but such news can be caught in the air now, or
-secretly and as swiftly retransmitted so as to
-gratify our enemies even more by keeping them
-well-informed of our strength and intentions
-and putting them on their guard. Therefore
-our armies have rightly gone forth on this the
-greatest war the world has ever seen as they went
-to the Crusades, with no Press reporter in their<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_8">8</a></span>
-ranks, and when the historian sits down, some
-peaceful day in the future, to write his prose
-epic of the Titanic struggle that is now raging
-over Europe he will have no records of the actual
-fighting except such as he can gather from the
-necessarily terse official reports, the published
-stories of refugees and wounded soldiers that
-have been picked up by enterprising newspaper
-men hovering alertly in the rear of the forces,
-and from the private letters written to their
-friends by the fighting men themselves.</p>
-
-<p>These letters compensate largely for the ampler,
-more expert accounts the war correspondent is
-not allowed to send us. They may tell little of
-strategic movements or of the full tide and
-progress of an engagement till you read them in
-conjunction with the official reports, but in their
-vivid, spontaneous revelations of what the man
-in battle has seen and felt, in the intensity of
-their human interest they have a unique value
-beyond anything to be found in more professional
-military or journalistic documents. They so
-unconsciously express the personality and spirit
-of their writers; the very homeliness of their
-language adds wonderfully and unintentionally
-to their effectiveness; there is rarely any note of
-boastfulness even in a moment of triumph;
-they record the most splendid heroisms casually,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_9">9</a></span>
-sometimes even flippantly, as if it were merely
-natural to see such things happening about them,
-or to be doing such things themselves. If they
-tell of hardships it is to laugh at them; again
-and again there are little bursts of affection and
-admiration for their officers and comrades—they
-are the most potent of recruiting literature,
-these letters, for a mere reading of them thrills
-the stay-at-home with pride that these good
-fellows are his countrymen and with a sort of
-angry shame that his age or his safe civilian
-responsibilities keep him from being out there
-taking his stand beside them.</p>
-
-<p>The courage, the cheerfulness, the dauntless
-spirit of them is the more striking when you
-remember that the vast majority of our soldiers
-have never been in battle until now. Russia
-has many veterans from her war with Japan;
-France has a few who fought the Prussian enemy
-in 1870; we have some from the Boer war; but
-fully three parts of our troops, like all the heroic
-Belgians, have had their baptism of fire in the
-present gigantic conflict. And it is curiously
-interesting to read in several of the letters the
-frank confession of their writers’ feelings when
-they came face to face for the first time with the
-menace of death in action. One such note,
-published in various papers, was from Alfred<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_10">10</a></span>
-Bishop, a sailor who took part in the famous
-North Sea engagement of August last. His
-ship’s mascot is a black cat, and:</p>
-
-<p class="p2">“Our dear little black kitten sat under our
-foremost gun,” he writes, “during the whole
-battle, and was not frightened at all, only when
-we first started firing. But afterwards she sat
-and licked herself.... Before we started fighting
-we were all very nervous, but after we joined
-in we were all happy and most of us laughing till
-it was finished. Then we all sobbed and cried.
-Even if I never come back don’t think I died a
-painful death. Everything yesterday was quick
-as lightning.”</p>
-
-<p class="p2">A wounded English gunner telling of how he
-went into action near Mons owns to the same
-touch of nervousness in the first few minutes:</p>
-
-<p class="p2">“What does it feel like to be under fire?
-Well, the first shot makes you a bit shaky. It’s
-a surprise packet. You have to wait and keep
-on moving till you get a chance.” But as soon
-as the chance came, his shakiness went, and his
-one desire in hospital was “to get back to the
-front as soon as the doctor says I’m fit to man a
-gun. I don’t want to stop here.”</p>
-
-<p class="p2">“I have received my baptism of fire,” writes
-a young Frenchman at the front to his parents<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_11">11</a></span>
-in Paris. “I heard the bullets whistling at my
-ears, and saw my poor comrades fall around me.
-The first minutes are dreadful. They are the
-worst. You feel wild. You hesitate; you don’t
-know what to do. Then, after a time, you
-feel quite at your ease in this atmosphere of
-lead.”</p>
-
-<p class="p2">“I am in the field hospital now, with a nice
-little hole in my left shoulder, through which a
-bullet of one of the War Lord’s military subjects
-has passed,” writes a wounded Frenchman to a
-friend in London. “My shoulder feels much as
-if some playful joker has touched it with a lighted
-cigar.... It is strange, but in the face of death
-and destruction I catch myself trying to make
-out where the shell has fallen, as if I were an
-interested spectator at a rifle competition. And
-I was not the only one. I saw many curious faces
-around me, bearing expressions full of interest,
-just as if the owners of the respective faces formed
-the auditorium of a highly fascinating theatrical
-performance, without having anything to do
-with the play itself. The impression crossed my
-mind in one-thousandth part of a second, and
-was followed by numerous others, altogether alien
-from the most serious things which were happening
-and going to happen. The human mind is a
-curious and complicated thing. Now that we
-were shooting at the enemy, and often afterwards
-in the midst of a fierce battle, I heard some<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_12">12</a></span>
-remark made or some funny expression used
-which proved that the speaker’s thoughts were
-far from realising the terrible facts around him.
-It has nothing to do with heartlessness or anything
-like that. I don’t know yet what it is.
-Perhaps I shall have an opportunity to philosophise
-on it later on.”</p>
-
-<p class="p2">There is a curious comment in a letter from
-Sergeant Major MacDermott, who writes during
-the great retreat from Mons, when everybody
-had become inured to the atmosphere of the
-battlefield.</p>
-
-<p class="p2">“We’re wonderfully cheerful, and happy as bare-legged
-urchins scampering over the fields,” he says,
-and adds, “It is the quantity not the quality of
-the German shells that are having effect on us,
-and it’s not so much the actual damage to life as
-the hellish nerve-racking noise that counts for so
-much. Townsmen who are used to the noise of
-the streets can stand it a lot better than the
-countrymen, and I think you will find that by far
-the fittest are those regiments recruited in the
-big cities. A London lad near me says it is no
-worse than the roar of motor-buses in the City
-on a busy day.”</p>
-
-<p class="p2">But the most graphic and minutely detailed
-picture of the psychic experiences of a soldier<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_13">13</a></span>
-plunged for the first time into the pandemonium
-of a modern battle is given in the <cite>Retch</cite> by a
-wounded Russian artillery officer writing from
-a St. Petersburg hospital.</p>
-
-<p class="p2">“I cannot say where we fought, for we are
-forbidden to divulge that, but I will tell you my
-own experiences,” he says. “In times of peace
-one has no conception of what a battle really
-means. When war was declared our brigade
-was despatched to the theatre of operations.
-I went with delight, and so did the others. When
-we reached our destination we were told that the
-battle would begin in the morning.</p>
-
-<p>“At daybreak positions were assigned to us,
-and the commander of the brigade handed us a
-plan of the action of our artillery. From that
-moment horror possessed our souls. It was not
-anxiety for ourselves or fear of the enemy, but
-a feeling of awe in the face of something unknown.
-At six o’clock we opened fire at a mark which we
-could not distinguish, but which we understood
-to be the enemy.</p>
-
-<p>“Towards midday we were informed that the
-German cavalry was attempting to envelop our
-right wing, and were ordered in that direction.
-Having occupied our new position we waited.
-Suddenly we see the enemy coming, and at the
-same time he opens fire on us. We turn our
-guns upon him, and I give the order to fire. I<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_14">14</a></span>
-myself feel that I am in a kind of nightmare.
-Our battery officers begin to melt away. I see
-that the Germans are developing their attack.
-First one regiment appears, and then another.
-I direct the guns and pour a volley of projectiles
-right into the thick of the first regiment. Then
-a second volley, and a third. I see how they
-fall among the men, and can even discern the
-severed limbs of the dead flying into the air after
-the explosion.</p>
-
-<p>“One of the enemy’s regiments is annihilated.
-Then a second one. All this time I am pouring
-missiles in among them. But now the nervous
-feeling has left me. My soul is filled with hate,
-and I continue to shoot at the enemy without
-the least feeling of pity.</p>
-
-<p>“Yet still the enemy is advancing, rushing
-forward and lying down in turns. I do not
-understand his tactics, but what are they to me?
-It is enough for me that I am occupying a favourable
-position and mowing him down like a strong
-man with a scythe in a clover field.</p>
-
-<p>“During the first night after the battle I could
-not sleep a wink. All the time my mind was
-filled with pictures of the battlefield. I saw
-German regiments approaching, and myself firing
-right into the thick of them. Heads, arms, legs,
-and whole bodies of men were being flung high into
-the air. It was a dreadful vision.</p>
-
-<p>“I was in four battles. When the second began<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_15">15</a></span>
-I went into it like an automaton. Only your
-muscles are taxed. All the rest of your being
-seems paralyzed. So complete is the suspension
-of the sensory processes that I never felt my
-wound. All I remember is that a feeling of giddiness
-came over me, and my head began to swim.
-Then I swooned to the ground, and was picked up
-by the Medical Corps and carried to the rear.”</p>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_16">16</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="vspace"><a id="II"></a>II<br />
-
-<span class="subhead"><span class="smcap">The Four Days’ Battle Near Mons</span></span></h2>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poem-container">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="iq">“<i>And turning to his men,</i><br /></span>
-<span class="i0"><i>Quoth our brave Henry then,</i><br /></span>
-<span class="i0"><i>‘Though they be one to ten,</i><br /></span>
-<span class="i2"><i>Be not amazed.’</i>”<br /></span>
-</div>
-
-<div class="attrib"><span class="smcap">Michael Drayton.</span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>Most of us are old enough to remember how, when
-we entered upon the South African Campaign
-(as when we started the Crimean and other of
-our wars) the nation was divided against itself;
-passionate, bitter controversies were waged between
-anti-Boer and pro-Boer—between those
-who considered the war an unjust and those who
-considered it a just one. This time there has been
-nothing of that. Sir Edward Grey’s resolute
-efforts for peace proving futile, as soon as Germany
-tore up her obligations of honour, that
-“scrap of paper,” and began to pour her huge,
-boastedly irresistible armies into Belgium, we
-took up the gauge she so insolently flung to us,
-and the one feeling from end to end of the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_17">17</a></span>
-Empire was of devout thankfulness that our
-Government had so instantly done the only
-right and honourable thing; all political parties,
-all classes flung their differences behind them
-unhesitatingly and stood four-square at once
-against the common enemy. They were heartened
-by a sense of relief, even, that the swaggering
-German peril which had been darkly
-menacing us for years had materialised and was
-upon us at last, that we were coming to grips
-with it and should have the chance of ending it
-once and for ever.</p>
-
-<p>But immediately after our declaration of war
-on August 4th, a strange secrecy and silence fell
-like an impenetrable mask over all our military
-movements. In our cities and towns we were
-troubled with business disorganisations, but that
-mystery, that waiting in suspense, troubled us
-far more. News came that the fighting continued
-furiously on the Belgian frontier; that
-it was beginning on the fringes of Alsace; that
-the Russians were advancing victoriously on
-East Prussia; and still though our own army
-was mobilised and we were eagerly starting to
-raise a new and a larger one, we rightly learned
-no more, perhaps less, than the enemy could of
-what our Expeditionary Force was doing or
-where it was. Last time we were at war we had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_18">18</a></span>
-seen regiment after regiment go off with bands
-playing and with cheering multitudes lining the
-roads as they passed; this time we had no glimpse
-of their going; did not know when they went,
-or so much as whether they were gone. One
-day rumour landed them safely in France or
-Belgium; the next it assured us that they were
-not yet ready to embark; and the next it had
-rushed them, as by magic, right across Belgium
-and credited them with standing shoulder to
-shoulder in the fighting line with the magnificent
-defenders of Liège. But the glory of that defence,
-as we were soon to find out, belongs to
-Belgium alone; the Germans had hacked their
-way through and were nearing Mons before our
-men were able to get far enough north to come
-in touch with them. Not that they had lost
-any time on the road. It took a fortnight to
-mobilise and equip them; they sailed from
-Southampton on August 17th, and four days
-later were at Mons and under fire. This much
-and more you may gather from a diary-letter
-that was published in the <cite>Western Daily Press</cite>:</p>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 1.—From Sapper George Bryant, Royal
-Engineers, to his father, Mr. J. J. Bryant, of
-Fishponds:</i></h3>
-
-<blockquote class="hang">
-
-<p>Aug. 17.—Sailed from Southampton, on <cite>Manchester
-Engineer</cite>, 4.45 a.m.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_19">19</a></span>
-Aug. 18.—Landed Rouen, 6.20 a.m. Proceeded
-to rest camp at the Racecourse, Rouen.</p>
-
-<p>Aug. 19.—Left camp 9 p.m., and entrained to
-Aulnoye.</p>
-
-<p>Aug. 20.—Marched to Fiezines.</p>
-
-<p>Aug. 21.—Marched to Mons, and proceeded
-to the canal, to obstacle the bridges and
-prepare for blowing up. Barricaded the
-main streets. Saw German cavalry, and
-was under fire.</p>
-
-<p>Aug. 22.—Severe fighting and terrible. Went
-to blow up bridges with Lieut. Day, who
-was shot at my side through the nose. Unable
-to destroy bridges owing to such heavy
-firing of the Germans. Sight heart-breaking.
-Women and children driven from their
-homes by point of bayonet, and marched
-through streets in front of Germans, who
-fired behind them and through their armpits.
-Therefore, our fellows were unable to
-fire back. They rolled up in thousands,
-about 100 to our one. Went from here to
-dig trenches for infantry retreating. Was
-soon under fire, and had to retreat, and
-infantry took our position, and were completely
-wiped out (Middlesex).</p>
-
-<p>Aug. 23.—Severe fighting and bombarding of a
-town, shells bursting around us. Retreated,
-and dug trenches for infantry, but soon had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_20">20</a></span>
-fire about us, and retreated again and marched
-to take up position for next day, which was
-to be a rest, us having had but very little.</p>
-
-<p>Aug. 24.—Were unable to rest. Germans
-pressed us hotly, and fired continually. One
-of their aeroplanes followed our route, and
-was fired at. One of our lieutenants chased
-it, and eventually succeeded in shooting
-the aviator through the head, and he came
-to earth. Three aeroplanes were captured
-this day. We had no close fighting, and
-marched away to take up a position for
-next day’s fighting, which was a hard day’s
-work.</p>
-
-<p>Aug. 25.—We tried to destroy an orchard, but
-drew the Germans’ artillery fire, which was
-hot and bursting around us. We continued
-our work until almost too late, and had
-to retire to infantry lines, and had it hot
-in doing so. I was stood next to General
-Shaw’s aide-camp who was badly wounded,
-but was not touched myself. We dug
-trenches for infantry, and then marched
-to join the 2nd Division, but fire was
-too hot to enable us to do our work.
-Germans were surrounded by us to the
-letter “C,” and we were waiting for the
-French to come up on our right flank, but
-they did not arrive. On returning from the
-2nd Division two shells, one after another,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_21">21</a></span>
-burst in front of us, first destroying a house;
-the second, I received my wound in left leg,
-being the only fellow hit out of 180. Was
-placed on tool cart, and taken to Field
-Hospital, but rest there was short, owing
-to Germans firing on hospital. Orderlies
-ran off and left us three to take our chance.
-Germans blew up church and hospital in
-same village, and were firing on ours when
-I was helped out by the other two fellows,
-and on to a cart, which overtook the ambulance,
-which I was put on, and travelled
-all night to St. Quentin and was entrained
-there at 9.30 a.m. Aug. 26.</p>
-
-<p>Aug. 26.—Travelled all day, reaching Rouen,
-Aug. 27, and was taken to Field Hospital
-on Racecourse.</p></blockquote>
-
-<p class="p2">We shall have to wait some time yet for full
-and coherent accounts of the fierce fighting at
-Mons, but from the soldiers’ letters and the
-stories of the wounded one gets illuminating
-glimpses of that terrific four-days’ battle.</p>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 2.—From Driver W. Moore, Royal Field
-Artillery, to the superintendent of the “Cornwall”
-training ship, of which Driver Moore
-is an “old boy” still under twenty:</i></h3>
-
-<p>It was Sunday night when we saw the
-enemy. We were ready for action, but were<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_22">22</a></span>
-lying down to have a rest, when orders came to
-stand at our posts. It was about four a.m. on
-Monday when we started to fire; we were at
-it all day till six p.m., when we started to advance.
-Then the bugle sounded the charge, and the
-cavalry and infantry charged like madmen at
-the enemy; then the enemy fell back about
-forty miles, so we held them at bay till Wednesday,
-when the enemy was reinforced. Then they
-came on to Mons, and by that time we had
-every man, woman, and child out of the
-town.</p>
-
-<p>We were situated on a hill in a cornfield and
-could see all over the country. It was about
-three p.m., and we started to let them have a
-welcome by blowing up two of their batteries in
-about five minutes; then the infantry let go, and
-then the battle was in full swing.</p>
-
-<p>In the middle of the battle a driver got
-wounded and asked to see the colours before he
-died, and he was told by an officer that the guns
-were his colours. He replied, “Tell the drivers
-to keep their eyes on their guns, because if we
-lose our guns we lose our colours.”</p>
-
-<p>Just then the infantry had to retire, and the
-gunners had to leave their guns, but the drivers
-were so proud of their guns that they went and
-got them out, and we retired to St. Quentin. We
-had a roll-call, and only ten were left out of my
-battery. This was the battle in which poor<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_23">23</a></span>
-Winchester (another old <em>Cornwall</em> boy) lost his
-life in trying to get the guns away.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 3.—From Private G. Moody, to his parents
-at Beckenham:</i></h3>
-
-<p>I was at Mons in the trenches in the firing line
-for twenty-four hours, and my regiment was
-ordered to help the French on the right. Poor
-old A Company was left to occupy the trenches
-and to hold them: whatever might happen, they
-were not to leave them. There were about 250
-of us, and the Germans came on, and as fast as
-we knocked them over more took their places.</p>
-
-<p>Well, out of 250 men only eighty were left,
-and we had to surrender. They took away everything,
-and we were lined up to be shot, so as to
-be no trouble to them. Then the cavalry of the
-French made a charge, and the Germans were cut
-down like grass. We got away, and wandered
-about all night, never knowing if we were walking
-into our chaps or the Germans. After walking
-about some time we commenced falling down
-through drinking water that had been poisoned,
-and then we were put into some motor-wagons
-and taken to Amiens.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_24">24</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 4.—From a Lincolnshire Sergeant to his
-brother:</i></h3>
-
-<p>It came unexpectedly. The first inkling we
-had was just after reveille, when our cavalry
-pickets fell back and reported the presence of the
-enemy in strength on our front and slightly to
-the left. In a few minutes we were all at our
-posts without the slightest confusion, and as we
-lay down in the trenches our artillery opened
-fire. It was a fine sight to see the shells speeding
-through the air to pay our respects to Kaiser
-Bill and his men. Soon the Germans returned
-the compliment; but they were a long time in
-finding anything approaching the range, and they
-didn’t know of shelters—a trick we learned from
-the Boers, I believe. After about half an hour
-of this work their infantry came into view along
-our front. They were in solid square blocks
-standing out sharply against the skyline, and we
-couldn’t help hitting them. We lay in our
-trenches with not a sound or sign to tell them of
-what was before them. They crept nearer and
-nearer, and then our officers gave the word.
-Under the storm of bullets they seemed to stagger
-like drunken men, after which they made a run
-for us shouting some outlandish cry that we
-could not make out. Half way across the open
-another volley tore through their ranks, and by
-this time our artillery began dropping shells
-around them. Then an officer gave an order, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_25">25</a></span>
-they broke into open formation, rushing like
-mad things towards the trenches on our left.
-Some of our men continued the volley firing, but
-a few of the crack shots were told off to indulge
-in independent firing for the benefit of the
-Germans. That is another trick taught us by
-Brother Boer, and our Germans did not like it
-at all. They fell back in confusion and then lay
-down wherever cover was available.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 5.—From Private Levy, Royal Munster
-Fusiliers:</i></h3>
-
-<p>We were sent up to the firing line to try and
-save a battery. When we got there we found that
-they were nearly all killed or wounded. Our
-Irish lads opened fire on the dirty Germans, and
-you should have seen them fall. It was like a
-game of skittles. But as soon as you knocked
-them down up came another thousand or so.
-We could not make out where they came from.
-So, all of a sudden, our officers gave us the order
-to charge. We fixed bayonets and went like
-fire through them. You should have seen them
-run!</p>
-
-<p>We had two companies of ours there against
-about 3,000 of theirs, and I tell you it was warm.
-I was not sorry when night-time came, but that<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_26">26</a></span>
-was not all. You see, we had no horses to get
-those guns away, and our chaps would not leave
-them.</p>
-
-<p>We dragged them ourselves to a place of
-safety. As the firing line was at full swing we
-had with us an officer of the Hussars. I think
-he was next to me, and he had his hand nearly
-blown off by one of the German shells. So I and
-two more fellows picked him up and took him
-to a place of safety, where he got his wound cared
-for. I heard afterwards that he had been sent
-home, poor fellow.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 6.—From Sergeant A. J. Smith, 1st Lincolnshire
-Regiment:</i></h3>
-
-<p>We smashed up the Kaiser’s famous regiment—the
-Imperial Guards—and incidentally
-they gave us a shaking. They caught me napping.
-I got wounded on Sunday night, but I stuck it
-until Thursday. I could then go no further,
-so they put me in the ambulance and sent me
-home. It was just as safe in the firing line as in
-the improvised hospital, as when our force moved
-the Germans closed up and shelled the hospitals
-and burned the villages to the ground.</p>
-
-<p>We started on Sunday, and were fighting
-and marching until Thursday. Troops were<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_27">27</a></span>
-falling asleep on the roadside until the shells
-started dropping, then we were very much
-awake.</p>
-
-<p>I feel proud to belong to the British Army
-for the way in which they bore themselves in
-front of the other nations. No greater tribute
-could be paid us than what a German officer, who
-was captured, said. He said it was inferno to
-stand up against the British Army.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 7.—From Private J. R. Tait, of the 2nd
-Essex Regiment:</i></h3>
-
-<p>We were near Mons when we had the order
-to entrench. It was just dawn when we were
-half-way down our trenches, and we were on
-our knees when the Germans opened a murderous
-fire with their guns and machine guns. We opened
-a rapid fire with our Maxims and rifles; we let
-them have it properly, but no sooner did we
-have one lot down than up came another lot, and
-they sent their cavalry to charge us, but we were
-there with our bayonets, and we emptied our
-magazines on them. Their men and horses were
-in a confused heap. There were a lot of wounded
-horses we had to shoot to end their misery. We
-had several charges with their infantry, too.
-We find they don’t like the bayonets. Their<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_28">28</a></span>
-rifle shooting is rotten; I don’t believe they could
-hit a haystack at 100 yards. We find their
-Field Artillery very good; we don’t like their
-shrapnel; but I noticed that some did not burst;
-if one shell that came over me had burst I should
-have been blown to atoms; I thanked the Lord
-it did not. I also heard our men singing that
-famous song: “Get out and get under.” I know
-that for an hour in our trench it would make
-anyone keep under, what with their shells and
-machine guns. Many poor fellows went to their
-death like heroes.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 8.—From an Oldham Private to his wife
-at Waterhead:</i></h3>
-
-<p>We have had a terrible time, and were in
-action for three days and nights. On Wednesday
-the officers said that Spion Kop was heaven to
-the fighting we had on that day. It is God
-help our poor fellows who get wounded in the
-legs or body and could not get off the battlefield,
-as when we retired the curs advanced and
-shot and bayonetted them as they tried to
-crawl away. They are rotten shots with the
-rifles. If they stood on Blackpool sands I don’t
-believe they could hit the sea, but they are very
-good with the shrapnel guns, and nearly all our<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_29">29</a></span>
-wounded have been hit with shrapnel bullets.
-Each shrapnel shell contains about 200 bullets
-which scatter all around, so just think what
-damage one shell can do when it drops among a
-troop of soldiers.</p>
-
-<p>On the Tuesday our regiment went to the
-top of a hill which had a big flat top. An outpost
-of a Scotch regiment reported to us on our way
-up that all was clear, and we thought the enemy
-were about five miles away. We formed up in
-close formation—about 1,200 strong. Our commanding
-officer told us to pull our packs off, and
-start entrenching, but this was the last order
-he will ever give, for the enemy opened fire at
-us with five Maxim guns from a wood only 400
-yards in front of us. They mowed us down like
-straw, and we could get no cover at all. Those
-who were left had to roll off the hill into the
-roadway—a long straight road—but we got it
-worse there. They had two shrapnel guns at the
-top of the road, and they did fearful execution to
-us and the Lancashire Fusiliers, who were also
-in the roadway. Any man who got out of that
-hell-hole should shake hands with himself.</p>
-
-<p>This all happened before six o’clock in the
-morning. I have only seen about sixty of our
-regiment since. Our Maxim gun officer tried
-to fix his gun up during their murderous fire,
-but he got half his face blown away. We retired
-in splendid order about 300 yards, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_30">30</a></span>
-then lined a ridge. Up to then we hardly fired a
-shot. They had nearly wiped three regiments
-out up to then, but our turn came. We gave
-them lead as fast as we could pull the triggers,
-and I think we put three Germans out to every
-one of our men accounted for. Bear in mind, they
-were about 250,000 strong to our 50,000. We got
-three Germans, and they said their officers told
-them that we were Russians and that England
-had not sent any men to fight.</p>
-
-<p>They made us retire about five miles, and
-then we got the master of them, because our
-guns came up and covered the ground with dead
-Germans. The German gunners are good shots,
-but ours are a lot better. After we had shelled
-them a bit we got them on the run, and we drove
-them back to three miles behind where the battle
-started. We did give it them. I will say this,
-none of our soldiers touched any wounded Germans,
-though it took us all our time to keep
-our bayonets out of their ribs after seeing what
-they did with our wounded. But, thank God,
-we governed our tempers and left them alone.</p>
-
-<p>I said we got the Germans on the run. And
-they can run! I picked up a few trophies and
-put them in my pack, but I got it blown off my
-back almost, so I had to discard it. I got one in
-the ribs, and then a horse got shot and fell on top
-of me, putting my shoulder out again and crushing
-my ribs. Otherwise I am fit to tackle a few<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_31">31</a></span>
-more Germans, and I hope I shall soon be back
-again at the front to get a bit of my own back.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 9.—From a private of the 1st Lincolns to
-friends at Barton-on-Humber:</i></h3>
-
-<p>Just a line to tell you I have returned from
-the front, and I can tell you we have had a very
-trying time of it. I must also say I am very
-lucky to be here. We were fighting from Sunday,
-23rd, to Wednesday evening, on nothing to
-eat or drink—only the drop of water in our
-bottles which we carried. No one knows—only
-those that have seen us could credit such a sight,
-and if I live for years may I never see such a
-sight again. I can tell you it is not very nice
-to see your chum next to you with half his head
-blown off. The horrible sights I shall never forget.
-There seemed nothing else only certain
-death staring us in the face all the time. I cannot
-tell you all on paper. We must, however,
-look on the bright side, for it is no good doing
-any other. There are thousands of these
-Germans and they simply throw themselves at
-us. It is no joke fighting seven or eight to one.
-I can tell you we have lessened them a little, but
-there are millions more yet to finish.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_32">32</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 10.—From one of the 9th Lancers to friends at
-Alfreton:</i></h3>
-
-<p>I was at the great battle of Mons, and got a few
-shots in me. Once I was holding my officer’s
-horse and my own, when, all of a sudden, a
-German shell came over and burst. Both horses
-were killed. I got away with my left hand split
-and three fingers blown in pieces. I am recovering
-rather quickly. I shall probably have to lose
-one or two of my fingers. I had two bullets
-taken from my body on Tuesday, and I can tell
-you I am in pain. I think I am one of the luckiest
-men in the world to escape as I did. War is a
-terrible thing. It is a lot different to what most
-of us expected. Women and children leaving
-their homes with their belongings—then all of a
-sudden their houses would be in ashes, blown to
-the ground. I shall be glad to get well again.
-Then I can go and help again to fight the brutal
-Germans. The people in France and Belgium
-were so kind and good to our soldiers. They
-gave everything they possibly could do.</p>
-
-<p>I have not heard from Jack (his brother, also at
-the front). I do so hope he will come back.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<div id="ip_32" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 31.1875em;">
- <img src="images/i_032.jpg" width="499" height="600" alt="" />
- <div class="caption">
-
-<div class="floatl"><i>Drawn by F. Matania.</i></div>
-<div class="floatr"><i>Copyright of The Sphere.</i></div>
-<p class="floatc"><span class="smcap">The British Expeditionary Force Lands in France, August, 1914.</span></p></div></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_33">33</a></span></p>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 11.—From a wounded Gordon Highlander to
-his father, Mr. Alexander Buchan, of Monymusk:</i></h3>
-
-<p>We had a pretty stiff day of it last Sunday.
-The battalion went into small trenches in front
-of a wood a few miles to the right of Mons, and
-the Germans had the range to a yard. I was on
-the right edge of the wood with the machine guns,
-and there wasn’t half some joy.</p>
-
-<p>The shells were bursting all over the place. It
-was a bit of a funny sensation for a start, but you
-soon got used to it. You would hear it coming
-singing through the air over your head; then it
-would give a mighty big bang and you would see
-a great flash, and there would be a shower of
-lumps of iron and rusty nails all around your ears.
-They kept on doing that all Sunday; sometimes
-three or four at the same time, but none of them
-hit me. I was too fly for them.</p>
-
-<p>Their artillery is pretty good, but the infantry
-are no good at all. They advance in close column,
-and you simply can’t help hitting them. I opened
-fire on them with the machine gun and you could
-see them go over in heaps, but it didn’t make any
-difference. For every man that fell ten took his
-place. That is their strong point. They have
-an unlimited supply of men.</p>
-
-<p>They think they can beat any army in the
-world simply by hurling great masses of troops
-against them, but they are finding out their<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_34">34</a></span>
-mistake now that they are put up against British
-troops. The reason for the British retreat is
-this—all up through France are great lines of
-entrenchments and fortresses, and as they have
-not enough men to defeat the Germans in open
-battle, they are simply retiring from position to
-position—holding the Germans for a few days
-and then retiring to the next one. All this is just
-to gain time. Our losses are pretty severe, but
-they are nothing to the Germans, whose losses
-are ten to every one of ours.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 12.—From Private J. Willis, of the Gordon
-Highlanders:</i></h3>
-
-<p>You mustn’t run away with the notion that
-we stand shivering or cowering under shell fire,
-for we don’t. We just go about our business in
-the usual way. If it’s potting at the Germans
-that is to the fore we keep at it as though nothing
-were happening, and if we’re just having a wee
-bit chat among ourselves we keep at it all the
-same.</p>
-
-<p>Last week when I got this wound in my leg
-it was because I got excited in an argument with
-wee Georgie Ferriss, of our company, about
-Queen’s Park Rangers and their chances this
-season. One of my chums was hit when he<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_35">35</a></span>
-stood up to light a cigarette while the Germans
-were blazing away at us.</p>
-
-<p>Keep your eyes wide open and you will have
-a big surprise sooner than you think. We’re all
-right, and the Germans will find that out sooner
-than you at home.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 13.—From Private G. Kay, of the 2nd
-Royal Scots, to his employer, a milkman, at
-Richmond:</i></h3>
-
-<p>You will be surprised to hear I am home
-from Belgium in hospital with a slight wound
-in my heel from shrapnel. I had a narrow
-escape in Wednesday’s battle at or near Mons,
-as I was with the transport, and it was surrounded
-twice.</p>
-
-<p>The last time I made holes in the stable
-wall, and had a good position for popping them
-off—and I did, too; but somehow they got
-to know where we were, and shelled us for three
-hours. Off went the roof, and off went the roof
-of other buildings around us. At last a shell
-exploded and set fire to our cooking apparatus
-and our stables. We had twenty-two fine horses,
-and all the transport in this stable yard. We
-hung on for orders to remove the horses. None
-came. At last a shell like a thunderbolt struck<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_36">36</a></span>
-the wall, and down came half the stables, and
-as luck would have it, as we retired—only about
-six of us—my brother-in-law, the chap you
-were going to start when we were called up,
-went to the right and I went to the left. Just
-then a shell burst high and struck several down
-in the yard—it was then I got hit—smashed the
-butt of my rifle, and sent me silly for five minutes.
-Then I heard a major say, “For yourselves,
-boys.” I looked for my brother-in-law, but he
-was not to be seen, and I have not heard of
-him since. During all this time the fire was
-spreading rapidly. I was told to go back and
-cut the horses loose. I did so, and some of
-them got out, but others were burnt to death.</p>
-
-<p>Then God answered my prayer, and I had
-strength to run through a line of rifle fire over
-barbed wire covered by a hedge, and managed
-to get out of rifle range, three hundred yards
-or four hundred yards away, and then I fell
-for want of water. I just had about two teaspoonfuls
-in my bottle, and then I went on
-struggling my way through hedges to a railway
-line.</p>
-
-<p>When I got through I saw an awful sight—a
-man of the Royal Irish with six wounds
-from shrapnel. He asked me for water, but
-I had none. I managed to carry him about
-half a mile, and then found water. I stuck to
-him though he was heavy and I was feeling<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_37">37</a></span>
-weak and tired. I had to carry him through a
-field of turnips, and half way I slipped and both
-fell. I then had a look back and could see the
-fire mountains high.</p>
-
-<p>I then saw one of my own regiment, and
-called to him to stay with this man while I went
-for a shutter or a door, which I got, and with
-the help of two Frenchmen soon got him to a
-house and dressed him. We were being shelled
-again from the other end of the village then. We
-were about fifteen strong, as some slightly wounded
-came up and some not wounded. We got him
-away, and then met a company of Cameron
-Highlanders, and handed him over to them.</p>
-
-<p>I think I marched nearly sixty-three miles,
-nearly all on one foot, and at last I got a horse
-and made my way to Mons, where I was put in
-the train for Havre.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 14.—From Sergeant Taylor, of the R.H.A.:</i></h3>
-
-<p>Our first brush with the enemy was on
-August 21st, about thirty miles from Mons,
-but Mons, my goodness, it was just like Brock’s
-benefit at Belle Vue, and you would have thought
-it was hailing. Of course, we were returning
-the compliment. The Germans always found the
-range, which proved they had good maps, yet<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_38">38</a></span>
-in their anxiety they tried to fire too many shells,
-the consequence being that a lot of them were
-harmless, and they did not give themselves time
-to properly fuse them. Only on one day—from
-the 21st to my leaving—did we miss an
-action. In General French’s report you will,
-no doubt, see where the 5th Brigade accounted
-for two of the German cavalry regiments, of
-which only six troopers were taken prisoners;
-the rest bit the dust. One of these regiments
-was the Lancers, of which the late Queen was
-honorary colonel.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 15.—From Private J. Atkinson, of the
-Duke of Wellington’s West Riding Regiment,
-to his wife at Leeds:</i></h3>
-
-<p>Talk about a time! I would not like to go
-through the same again for love or money.</p>
-
-<p>It is not war. It is murder. The Germans
-are murdering our wounded as fast as they come
-across them. I gave myself up for done a week
-last Sunday night, as we were in the thick of
-the fight at Mons. Our regiment started fighting
-with 1,009 and finished with 106 and three
-officers. That made 109, as we just lost 900.
-It was cruel. At one place we were at there
-were six streets of the town where all the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_39">39</a></span>
-women were left widows, and were all wearing
-the widows’ weeds. The French regiment that
-fought there was made up in the town and they
-got wiped out.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 16.—From Private Robert Robertson, of the
-Argylls, to his parents at Musselburgh:</i></h3>
-
-<p>The poor Argylls got pretty well hit, but
-never wavered a yard for all their losses. The
-Scots Greys are doing great work at the front—in
-fact they were the means of putting ten
-thousand Germans to their fate on Sunday
-morning. I will never forget that day, as our
-regiment left a town on the French frontier on
-Saturday morning at 3 o’clock and marched till
-3 a.m. on Sunday into a Belgian town. I was
-about to have an hour in bed, at least a lie down
-in a shop, when I was wakened to go on guard at
-the General’s headquarters, and while I was on
-guard a Captain of the crack French cavalry
-came in with the official report of the ten thousand
-Germans killed. The Scots Greys, early that
-morning, had decoyed the Germans right in front
-of the machine guns of the French, and they just
-mowed them down. There was no escape for
-them, poor devils, but they deserve it the way
-they go on. You would be sorry for the poor<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_40">40</a></span>
-Belgian women having to leave their homes with
-young children clinging to them. One sad case
-we came across on the roadside was a woman
-just out of bed two days after giving birth to a
-child. The child was torn from her breast, and
-her breast cut off that the infant was sucking.
-Then the Germans bayoneted the child before the
-mother’s eyes. We did the best we could for her,
-but she died about six hours after telling us her
-hardships.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 17.—From Private Whitaker, of the Coldstream
-Guards:</i></h3>
-
-<p>You thought it was a big crowd that streamed
-out of the Crystal Palace when we went to see the
-Cup Final. Well, outside Compiègne it was just
-as if that crowd came at us. You couldn’t miss
-them. Our bullets ploughed into them, but still
-they came for us. I was well entrenched, and my
-rifle got so hot I could hardly hold it. I was
-wondering if I should have enough bullets, when
-a pal shouted, “Up, Guards, and at ’em!” The
-next second he was rolled over with a nasty
-knock on the shoulder. He jumped up and
-hissed, “Let me get at them!” His language
-was a bit stronger than that.</p>
-
-<p>When we really did get the order to get at<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_41">41</a></span>
-them we made no mistake, I can tell you. They
-cringed at the bayonet, but those on our left wing
-tried to get round us, and after racing as hard as
-we could for quite five hundred yards we cut up
-nearly every man who did not run away.</p>
-
-<p>You have read of the charge of the Light Brigade.
-It was nowt to our cavalry chaps. I saw two
-of our fellows who were unhorsed stand back to
-back and slash away with their swords, bringing
-down nine or ten of the panic-stricken devils.
-Then they got hold of the stirrup-straps of a
-horse without a rider, and got out of the melée.
-This kind of thing was going on all day.</p>
-
-<p>In the afternoon I thought we should all get
-bowled over, as they came for us again in their
-big numbers. Where they came from, goodness
-knows; but as we could not stop them with
-bullets they had another taste of the bayonet.
-My captain, a fine fellow, was near to me, and as
-he fetched them down he shouted, “Give them
-socks, my lads!” How many were killed and
-wounded I don’t know; but the field was covered
-with them.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 18.—From a private in the Coldstream
-Guards to his mother:</i></h3>
-
-<p>First of all I sailed from Southampton on
-August 12th on a cattle boat called the <i>Cawdor<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_42">42</a></span>
-Castle</i>. We sailed at 9.30 at night, and after
-a passage of 14½ hours landed at Le Havre, on
-the coast of France. We went into camp there,
-and then left on August 14th, getting into a train,
-not third class carriages, but cattle trucks. We
-were on the train eighteen and a half hours,
-and I was a bit stiff when I got out at a place
-called Wassigny. Then we marched through
-pouring rain to a village, where we slept in some
-barns. The next day being Sunday, August 16th,
-we got on the march to a place called Grooges,
-a distance of about nine miles. We stayed there
-till Thursday.</p>
-
-<p>Then we started to march to get into Belgium.
-We got there on Sunday, the 23rd, just outside
-Mons. We dug trenches, from which we had to
-retire, and then we got into a position, and there
-I saw the big battle, but could not do anything,
-because we were with the artillery. We
-retreated into France, being shelled all the way,
-and on the Tuesday, the 25th, we marched into
-Landrecies. We arrived there about one o’clock
-and were thinking ourselves lucky. We considered
-we were going to have two days’ rest,
-but about five o’clock the alarm was raised.
-The Germans got to the front of us and were trying
-to get in the town. So we fixed our bayonets,
-doubled up the road, and the fight started. The
-German artillery shelled us, and some poor chaps
-got hit badly. The chap next to me got shot,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_43">43</a></span>
-and I tried to pull him out of the road, so that
-I could get down in his place, as there was not
-room for us all in the firing line. We had to lay
-down behind and wait our chance. I had got on my
-knees, and just got hold of his leg, when something
-hit my rifle and knocked it out of my hand,
-and almost at the same time a bullet went right
-through my arm. It knocked me over, and I
-must have bumped my head, for I do not remember
-any more till I felt someone shaking me.
-It was the doctor—a brave man, for he came
-right up amongst the firing to tend the wounded.
-He bandaged my arm up, and I had to get to
-hospital, a mile and a half away, as best I could.</p>
-
-<p>The beasts of Germans shelled the building all
-night long without hitting it. We moved next
-morning, and by easy stages left for England.
-I am going on fine; shall soon be back and at
-it again I expect. Keep up your spirits, won’t
-you? I believe it was only your prayers at home
-that guarded me that Tuesday night, simply awful
-it was.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 19.—From a wounded English Officer, in a
-Belgian hospital, to his mother:</i></h3>
-
-<p>I do not know if this letter will ever get
-to you or not, but I am writing on the chance<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_44">44</a></span>
-that it will. A lot has happened since I last
-wrote to you. We marched straight up to
-Belgium from France, and the first day we
-arrived my company was put on outposts for
-the night. During the night we dug a few
-trenches, etc., so did not get much sleep. The
-next day the Germans arrived, and I will try
-and describe the fight. We were only advanced
-troops of a few hundred holding the line of
-a canal. The enemy arrived about 50,000
-strong. We held them in check all day and killed
-hundreds of them, and still they came. Finally,
-of course, we retired on our main body. I will
-now explain the part I played. We were guarding
-a railway bridge over a canal. My company
-held a semicircle from the railway to the canal.
-I was nearest the railway. A Scottish regiment
-completed the semicircle on the right of the
-railway to the canal. The railway was on a
-high embankment running up to the bridge, so
-that the Scottish regiment was out of sight
-of us. We held the Germans all day, killing
-hundreds, when about five p.m. the order to
-retire was eventually given. It never reached
-us, and we were left all alone. The Germans
-therefore got right up to the canal on our right,
-hidden by the railway embankment, and crossed
-the railway. Our people had blown up the
-bridge before their departure. We found ourselves
-between two fires, and I realized we had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_45">45</a></span>
-about 2,000 Germans and a canal between myself
-and my friends.</p>
-
-<p>We decided to sell our lives dearly. I
-ordered my men to fix bayonets and charge,
-which the gallant fellows did splendidly, but
-we got shot down like nine-pins. As I was
-loading my revolver after giving the order to
-fix bayonets I was hit in the right wrist. I
-dropped my revolver, my hand was too weak
-to draw my sword. This afterwards saved
-my life. I had not got far when I got a bullet
-through the calf of my right leg and another
-in my right knee, which brought me down.
-The rest of my men got driven round into the
-trench on our left. The officer there charged
-the Germans and was killed himself, and nearly
-all the men were either killed or wounded. I
-did not see this part of the business, but from
-all accounts the gallant men charged with the
-greatest bravery. Those who could walk the
-Germans took away as prisoners. I have since
-discovered from civilians that around the bridge
-5,000 Germans were found dead and about 60
-English. These 60 must have been nearly all
-my company, who were so unfortunately left
-behind.</p>
-
-<p>As regards myself, when I lay upon the
-ground I found my coat sleeve full of blood,
-and my wrist spurting blood, so I knew an
-artery of some sort must have been cut. The<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_46">46</a></span>
-Germans had a shot at me when I was on the
-ground to finish me off; that shot hit my sword,
-which I wore on my side, and broke in half
-just below the hilt; this turned the bullet off
-and saved my life. I afterwards found that
-two shots had gone through my field glasses,
-which I wore on my belt, and another had gone
-through my coat pocket, breaking my pipe
-and putting a hole through a small collapsible
-tin cup, which must have turned the bullet off me.
-We lay out there all night for twenty-four hours.
-I had fainted away from loss of blood, and when I
-lost my senses I thought I should never see anything
-again. Luckily I had fallen on my wounded
-arm, and the arm being slightly twisted I think
-the weight of my body stopped the flow of blood
-and saved me. At any rate, the next day
-civilians picked up ten of us who were still alive,
-and took us to a Franciscan convent, where we
-have been splendidly looked after. All this
-happened on August 23rd, it is now September
-3rd. I am ever so much better, and can walk
-about a bit now, and in a few days will be quite
-healed up. It is quite a small hole in my wrist,
-and it is nearly healed, and my leg is much
-better; the bullets escaped the bones, so that
-in a week I shall be quite all right. Unfortunately
-the Germans are at present in possession of this
-district, so that I am more or less a prisoner
-here. But I hope the English will be here<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_47">47</a></span>
-in a week, when I shall be ready to rejoin
-them.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 20.—From W. Hawkins, of the 3rd Coldstream
-Guards:</i></h3>
-
-<p>I have a nasty little hole through my right
-arm, but I am one of the lucky ones. My word,
-it was hot for us. On the Tuesday night when I
-got my little lot, what I saw put me in mind of a
-farmer’s machine cutting grass, as the Germans
-fell just like it. We only lost nine poor fellows,
-and the German losses amounted to 1,500 and
-2,000. So you can guess what it was like. As
-they were shot down others took their place, as
-there were thousands of them. The best friend
-is your rifle with the bayonet. But I soon had
-mine blown to pieces. How it happened I don’t
-know.... I got a bullet through the top of my
-hat. I will bring my hat home and show you.
-I felt it go through, but it never as much as
-bruised my head. I had then no rifle, so I was
-obliged to keep down my head. The bullets
-were whirling over me by the hundred. I stopped
-until they got a bit slower, and then I got up and
-was trying to pull a fellow away that had been
-shot through the head when I managed to receive
-a bullet through my arm. When I looked in
-the direction of the enemy I could see them<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_48">48</a></span>
-coming by the thousand. Off I went. I bet I
-should easily have won the mile that night. I
-got into the hospital at Landricca amid shot and
-shell, which were flying by as fast as you like.
-I got my arm done, and was put to bed. All
-that night the enemy were trying to blow up the
-hospital, where they had to turn out the lights
-so that the Germans could not get the correct
-range. Then we were taken away in R.A.M.C.
-vans to Guise, where we slept on the station
-platform after a nice supper which the French
-provided.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 21.—From Sergeant Griffiths, of the Welsh
-Regiment, to his parents at Swansea:</i></h3>
-
-<p>The fighting at Mons was terrible, and it was
-here that our 4th and 5th Divisions got badly
-knocked, but fought well. Our artillery played
-havoc with them. About 10 o’clock on Monday
-we were suddenly ordered to quit, and quick, too,
-and no wonder. They were ten to one. Then
-began that retreat which will go down in history
-as one of the greatest and most glorious retirements
-over done. Our boys were cursing because
-our backs were towards them; but when the
-British did turn, my word, what a game! The
-3rd Coldstreams should be named “3rd Cold<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_49">49</a></span>
-Steels,” and no error. Their bayonet charge was
-a beauty.</p>
-
-<p class="p2">Among numerous other such letters that have
-been published up and down the country is this
-in which a corporal of the North Lancashire
-Regiment gives a graphic little picture of his
-experiences to the <cite>Manchester City News</cite>:</p>
-
-<p class="p2">When we got near Mons the Germans were
-nearer than we expected. They must have been
-waiting for us. We had little time to make
-entrenchments, and had to do the digging lying on
-our stomachs. Only about 300 of the 1,000 I
-was with got properly entrenched. The Germans
-shelled us heavily, and I got a splinter in the leg.
-It is nearly right now, and I hope soon to go back
-again. We lost fairly heavily, nearly all from
-artillery fire. Altogether I was fighting for
-seventy-two hours before I was hit. The German
-forces appeared to be never-ending. They
-were round about us like a swarm of bees, and
-as fast as one man fell, it seemed, there were
-dozens to take his place.</p>
-
-<p class="p2">There is one in which James Scott, reservist,
-tells his relatives at Jarrow that British soldiers
-at Mons dropped like logs. The enemy were shot
-down as they came up, but it was like knocking
-over beehives—a hundred came up for every
-one knocked down. He thought the Germans<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_50">50</a></span>
-were the worst set of men he had ever seen.
-Their cavalry drove women and children in front
-of them in the streets of Mons so that the British
-could not fire.</p>
-
-<p class="p2">A wounded non-commissioned officer of the
-Pompadours, whose regiment left Wembley Park
-a week before the fighting began, says that in
-the four days’ battle commencing at Mons on
-the Sunday, August 23rd, and lasting until
-August 26th, they were continually under fire:</p>
-
-<p class="p2">We had to beat off several cavalry attacks as
-well as infantry, and when the trouble seemed to
-be over the Germans played on us with shrapnel
-just like turning on a fire hose. Several of our
-officers were hit on Wednesday. Heavy German
-cavalry charged us with drawn sabres, and we
-only had a minute’s warning “to prepare to receive
-cavalry.” We left our entrenchments, and rallying
-in groups, emptied our magazines into them as
-they drew near. Men and horses fell in confused
-heaps. It was a terrible sight. Still, on they
-came. They brought their naked sabres to the
-engage, and we could distinctly hear their words
-of command made in that piercing, high tone of
-voice which the Germans affect.</p>
-
-<p>The enemy had a terrible death roll before
-their fruitless charge was completed, a thick line
-of dead and wounded marking the ground over
-which they had charged. We shot the wounded<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_51">51</a></span>
-horses, to put them out of their misery, whilst our
-ambulances set to work to render aid to the
-wounded. Our Red Cross men make no distinction.
-Friend and foe get the same medical
-treatment, that’s where we score over the
-Germans.</p>
-
-<p>If they had been Uhlans we should not have
-spared them, as we owe them a grudge for rounding
-up some Tommies who were bathing. They
-took their clothes away, and tied the men to trees.
-We swore to give them a warm time wherever we
-met them.</p>
-
-<p class="p2">A wounded corporal writes:</p>
-
-<p>It looked as if we were going to be snowed
-under. The mass of men that came at us was an
-avalanche, and every one of us must have been
-simply trodden to death and not killed by bullets
-or shells when our cavalry charged into them on
-the left wing, not 500 yards from the trench I was
-in, and cut them up. Our lads did the rest, but
-the shells afterwards laid low a lot of them.</p>
-
-<p class="p2">The following is an extract from a letter
-received by a gardener from his son:</p>
-
-<p>You complained last year of the swarms of
-wasps that destroyed your fruit. Well, dad,
-they were certainly not larger in number than
-the Germans who came for us. The Germans are
-cowards when they get the bayonets at them.
-A young lieutenant, I don’t know his name, was<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_52">52</a></span>
-one of the coolest men I have ever seen, and didn’t
-he encourage our chaps! I saw him bring down
-a couple of Germans who were leading half a
-company.</p>
-
-<p class="p2">A fact that stands out continually in these
-tales of eye-witnesses is the overwhelming numbers
-in which the Germans were hurled upon
-them. One says they seemed to be rising up
-endlessly out of the very ground, and as fast as
-one mass was shot down another surged into
-its place; the innumerable horde is compared
-by various correspondents to “a great big battering-ram,”
-to a gigantic swarm of wasps, to
-a swarm of bees, to a flock of countless thousands
-of sheep trying to rush out of a field; to the
-unceasing pouring of peas out of a sack. It was
-the sheer mass and weight of this onrush that
-forced the small British army back on its systematic,
-triumphant retreat, and probably the
-most striking little sketch of this phase of the
-conflict is that supplied by an Irish soldier invalided
-to Belfast, which I include in the following
-selection of hospital stories.</p>
-
-<p class="p2">The last few weeks have been like a dream to
-me, says a wounded private of the Middlesex
-Regiment. After we landed at Boulogne we
-were magnificently treated, and everyone was in
-the highest spirits. Then we set off on our<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_53">53</a></span>
-marching. We were all anxious to have a slap
-at the Germans. My word! If they only knew
-in our country how the Germans are treating our
-wounded there would be the devil to pay.</p>
-
-<p>It was somewhere in the neighbourhood of
-Mons, I believe, that we got our first chance. We
-had been marching for days with hardly any
-sleep. When we took up our position the Germans
-were nearer than we thought, because we
-had only just settled down to get some rest when
-there came the blinding glare of the searchlight.
-This went away almost as suddenly as it appeared,
-and it was followed by a perfect hail of bullets.
-We lost a good many in the fight, but we were all
-bitterly disappointed when we got the order to
-retire. I got a couple of bullets through my leg,
-but I hope it won’t be long before I get back
-again. We never got near enough to use our
-bayonets. I only wish we had done. Talk
-about civilized warfare! Don’t you believe it.
-The Germans are perfect fiends.</p>
-
-<h3>In Hospital.</h3>
-
-<p class="in0">(1) <i>At Southampton.</i></p>
-
-<p>The first batch of wounded soldiers arrived
-at Netley on the 28th August, coming from
-Southampton Docks by the hospital train. A
-<cite>Daily Telegraph</cite> correspondent was one of a
-quiet band of people who had waited silently<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_54">54</a></span>
-for many long hours on the platform that runs
-alongside the hospital for the arrival of the
-disabled soldiers who had fought so heroically
-at Mons; and this is his account of what he
-saw:</p>
-
-<p class="p2">Colonel Lucas and staff were all in readiness.
-Here were wheeling chairs, there stretchers. The
-preparations for the reception of the broken
-Tommies could not have been better, more
-elaborate, or more humane. It was the humanity
-of it all—the quiet consideration that told of
-complete preparedness—that made not the least
-moving chapter of the story that I have to tell.
-And out of the train stern-faced men began to
-hobble, many with their arms in a sling.</p>
-
-<p>Here was a hairless-faced, boyish-looking
-fellow, with his head enveloped in snowy-white
-bandages; his cheeks were red and healthy, his
-eyes bright and twinkling. There was pain
-written across his young face, but he walked erect
-and puffed away at a cigarette. One man, with
-arms half clinging round the neck of two injured
-comrades, went limping to the reception-room,
-his foot the size of three, and as he went by he
-smiled and joked because he could only just
-manage to get along.</p>
-
-<p>When the last of the soldiers able to walk
-found his way into the hospital, there to be
-refreshed with tea or coffee or soup, before he<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_55">55</a></span>
-was sent to this or that ward, the more seriously
-wounded were carried from the train. How
-patient, how uncomplaining were these fellows!
-One, stretched out on a mattress, with his foot
-smashed, chatted and smoked until his turn
-came to be wheeled away. And when the last
-of these wounded heroes had been lifted out of the
-train I took myself to the reception-room, and
-there heard many stories that, though related
-with the simplicity of the true soldier, were
-wonderful.</p>
-
-<p>The wounded men were of all regiments and
-spoke all dialects. They were travel-stained
-and immensely tired. Pain had eaten deep lines
-into many of their faces, but there were no really
-doleful looks. They were faces that seemed to
-say: “Here we are; what does it all matter;
-it is good to be alive; it might have been worse.”</p>
-
-<p>I sat beside a private, named Cox. An old
-warrior he looked. His fine square jaw was black
-with wire-like whiskers. His eyes shone with the
-fire of the man who had suffered, so it seemed,
-some dreadful nightmare.</p>
-
-<p>“And you want me to tell you all about it.
-Well, believe me, it was just hell. I have been
-through the Boxer campaign; I went through
-the Boer War, but I have never seen anything
-so terrible as that which happened last Sunday.
-It all happened so sudden. We believed that
-the Germans were some fifteen miles away, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_56">56</a></span>
-all at once they opened fire upon us with their
-big guns.</p>
-
-<p>“Let me tell you what happened to my own
-regiment. When a roll-call of my company was
-taken there were only three of us answered, me
-and two others.” When he had stilled his
-emotion, he went on. “So unexpected and so
-terrible was the attack of the enemy, and so
-overwhelming were their numbers, that there
-was no withstanding it.”</p>
-
-<p>Before fire was opened a German aeroplane
-flew over our troops, and the deduction made
-by Private Cox and several of his comrades,
-with whom I chatted, was that the aeroplane
-was used as a sort of index to the precise locality
-of our soldiers, and, further, that the Germans,
-so accurate was their gunnery, had been over
-this particular battlefield before they struck a
-blow, and so had acquired an intimate knowledge
-of the country. Trenches that were dug by our
-men served as little protection from the fire.</p>
-
-<p>Said Cox: “No man could have lived against
-such a murderous attack. There was a rain of
-lead, a deluge of lead, and, talk about being surprised,
-well, I can hardly realise that, and still
-less believe what happened.”</p>
-
-<p>By the side of Cox sat a lean, fair-haired,
-freckle-faced private. “That’s right,” he said,
-by way of corroborating Cox. “They were fair
-devils,” chimed in an Irishman, who later told<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_57">57</a></span>
-me that he came from Connemara. “You could
-do nothing with them, but I say they are no
-d—— good as riflemen.”</p>
-
-<p>“No, they’re not, Mike,” ventured a youth.
-“We got within 400 yards of them, and they
-couldn’t hit us.”</p>
-
-<p>“But,” broke in the man of Connemara, “they
-are devils with the big guns, and their aim was
-mighty good, too. If it had not been they
-wouldn’t have damaged us as they have done.”</p>
-
-<p>A few yards away was another soldier, also
-seated in a wheeling chair, with a crippled leg—a
-big fine fellow he was. He told me his corps
-had been ambushed, and that out of 120 only
-something like twenty survived.</p>
-
-<p>On all hands I heard all too much to show
-that the battle of Mons was a desperate affair.
-Two regiments suffered badly, but there was no
-marked disposition on the part of any of the
-soldiers with whom I chatted to enlarge upon
-the happenings of last week-end. Rather would
-they talk more freely of the awful atrocities
-perpetrated by the Germans.</p>
-
-<p>“Too awful for words,” one said. “Their
-treatment of women will remain as a scandal
-as long as the world lasts. We shall never forget;
-we shall never forgive. I wish I was back
-again at the front. Englishmen have only got
-to realise what devilish crimes are being committed
-by these Germans to want to go and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_58">58</a></span>
-take a hand in the fight. Women were shot, and
-so were young girls. In fact, it did not seem to
-matter to the Germans who they killed, and they
-seemed to take a delight in burning houses and
-spreading terror everywhere.</p>
-
-<p>“I have got one consolation, I helped to
-catch four German spies.”</p>
-
-<h3>In Hospital.</h3>
-
-<p class="in0">(2) <i>At Belfast.</i></p>
-
-<p>About 120 officers and men arrived in Belfast
-on August 31st, direct from the Continent.
-They were brought here, says the <cite>Daily Telegraph</cite>
-local correspondent, to be near their friends, for
-the men had been in Ulster for a long time before
-leaving for the front, being stationed in Belfast
-and later in Londonderry. They sailed from
-this city for the theatre of war on August 14th,
-to the number of 900. It was remarkable to
-note how many of them were injured in the
-legs and feet. All were conveyed to the hospital
-at the Victoria Military Barracks. The men
-were glad to see Belfast again, but those to whom
-I spoke will be bitterly disappointed if they
-do not get another opportunity for paying off
-their score against the Germans.</p>
-
-<p>One soldier told me a plain straightforward
-story, without any embellishments. What made<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_59">59</a></span>
-his tale doubly interesting was the fact that he
-spoke with the experience of a veteran, having
-gone through the South African War.</p>
-
-<p>Where the Germans had the advantage,
-he said, was in the apparently endless number
-of reserves. No sooner did we dispose of one
-regiment than another regiment took its place.
-It just put me in mind of the Niagara Falls—the
-terrible rush threatening to carry everything
-before it.</p>
-
-<p>No force on earth could have withstood that
-cataract, and the fact that our men only fell
-back a little was the best proof of their strength.
-At one stage there were, I am sure, six Germans
-to every one of us. Yet we held our ground, and
-would still have held it but for the fact that
-after we had dealt with the men before us another
-force came on, using the bodies of their dead
-comrades as a carpet.</p>
-
-<p>The South African War was a picnic compared
-with this, and on the way home I now and again
-recoiled with horror as I thought of the awful
-spectacle which was witnessed before we left the
-front of piled-up bodies of the German dead.
-We lost heavily, but the German casualties
-must have been appalling.</p>
-
-<p>You must remember that for almost twenty-four
-hours we bore the brunt of the attack, and
-the desperate fury with which the Germans
-fought showed that they believed if they were<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_60">60</a></span>
-only once past the British forces the rest would
-be easy. Not only so, but I am sure we had
-the finest troops in the German army against
-us.</p>
-
-<p>On the way out I heard some slighting comments
-passed on the German troops, and no
-doubt some of them are not worth much, but those
-thrown at us were very fine specimens indeed.
-I do not think they could have been beaten in
-that respect.</p>
-
-<h3>In Hospital.</h3>
-
-<p class="in0">(3) <i>At Birmingham.</i></p>
-
-<p>About 120 English soldiers who had been
-wounded in and around Mons arrived in Birmingham
-on September 1st, and were removed
-to the new university buildings at Bournbrook,
-where facilities have been provided for dealing
-with over 1,000 patients. The contingent
-was the first batch to arrive. Though terribly
-maimed, and looking broken and tired, the men
-were cheerful. About twenty had to be carried,
-but the majority of them were able to walk with
-assistance.</p>
-
-<p>In the course of conversation with a <cite>Daily
-Telegraph</cite> reporter a number of the men spoke
-of the terrible character of the fighting. The
-Germans, one man said, outnumbered us by<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_61">61</a></span>
-100 to one. As we knocked them down, they
-simply filled up their gaps and came on as
-before.</p>
-
-<p>One of the Suffolk men stated that very few
-were injured by shot wounds. Nearly all the
-mischief was done by shells. The Germans,
-he said, fired six at a time, and if you missed
-one you got the others.</p>
-
-<p>One poor fellow, whose head was so smothered
-in bandages that his features could not be seen,
-remarked, “We could beat them with bladder-sticks
-if it were not for the shells, which were
-appalling. The effect could not be described.”</p>
-
-<p>A private of the West Kent Regiment, who
-was through the Boer War, said there was never
-anything like the fighting at Mons in South
-Africa. That was a game of skittles by comparison.</p>
-
-<p class="p2">They came at us, he said, in great masses.
-It was like shooting rabbits, only as fast as you
-shot one lot down another lot took their place.
-You couldn’t help hitting them. We had plenty
-of time to take aim, and if we weren’t reaching
-the Bisley standard all the time, we must have
-done a mighty lot of execution. As to their
-rifle fire, they couldn’t hit a haystack.</p>
-
-<p class="p2">A sergeant gunner of the Royal Field Artillery,
-who was wounded at Tournai, owing to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_62">62</a></span>
-an injury to his jaw was unable to speak,
-but he wrote on a pad:</p>
-
-<p>I was on a flank with my gun and fired about
-sixty rounds in forty minutes. We wanted
-support and could not get it. It was about
-500 English trying to save a flank attack, against,
-honestly, I should say, 10,000. As fast as you
-shot them down more came. But for their
-aeroplanes they would be useless. I was firing
-for one hour at from 1,500 yards down to 700
-yards, so you can tell what it was like.</p>
-
-<h3>In Hospital.</h3>
-
-<p class="in0">(4) <i>At London.</i></p>
-
-<p>All the heroism that has been displayed by
-British troops in the present war will never
-be known. A few individual cases may chance
-to be heard of. Others will be known only to
-the Recording Angel. Two instances of extraordinary
-bravery are mentioned by a couple of
-wounded soldiers lying in the London Hospital
-in the course of a narrative of their own adventures.</p>
-
-<p>One of them, a splendid fellow of the Royal
-West Kent Regiment, told a <cite>Daily Telegraph</cite>
-reporter:</p>
-
-<p>We were in a scrubby position just outside
-Mons from Saturday afternoon till Monday<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_63">63</a></span>
-morning. After four hours each of our six
-big guns was put out of action. Either the
-gunners were killed or wounded, or the guns
-themselves damaged. For the rest of the time—that
-is, until Monday morning, when we
-retired—we had to stick the German fire without
-being able to retaliate. It was bad enough to
-stand this incessant banging away, but it made
-it worse not to be able to reply.</p>
-
-<p>All day Sunday and all Sunday night the
-Germans continued to shrapnel us. At night
-it was just hellish. We had constructed some
-entrenchments, but it didn’t afford much cover
-and our losses were very heavy. On Monday
-we received the order to retire to the south
-of the town, and some hours later, when the
-roll-call was called, it was found that we had
-300 dead alone, including four officers.</p>
-
-<p>Then an extraordinary thing happened. Me
-and some of my pals began to dance. We
-were just dancing for joy at having escaped
-with our skins, and to forget the things we’d
-seen a bit, when bang! and there came a shell
-from the blue, which burst and got, I should
-think, quite twenty of us.</p>
-
-<p>That’s how some of us got wounded, as we
-thought we had escaped. Then another half-dozen
-of us got wounded this way. Some of
-our boys went down a street near by, and found
-a basin and some water, and were washing their<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_64">64</a></span>
-hands and faces when another shell burst above
-them and laid most of them out.</p>
-
-<p>What happened to us happened to the
-Gloucesters. Their guns, too, were put out of
-action, and, like us, they had to stand the shell-fire
-for hours and hours before they were told
-to retire. What we would have done without
-our second in command I don’t know.</p>
-
-<p>During the Sunday firing he got hit in the
-head. He had two wounds through the cap in
-the front and one or two behind, and lost a lot
-of blood. Two of our fellows helped to bind up
-his head, and offered to carry him back, but he
-said, “It isn’t so bad. I’ll be all right soon.”
-Despite his wounds and loss of blood, he carried
-on until we retired on Monday. Then, I think,
-they took him off to hospital.</p>
-
-<p class="p2">A stalwart chap of the Cheshires here broke in.</p>
-
-<p class="p2">Our Cheshire chaps were also badly cut
-up. Apart from the wounded, several men got
-concussion of the brain by the mere explosions.
-It was awful! Under cover of their
-murderous artillery fire, the German infantry
-advanced to within three and five hundred
-yards of our position. With that we were
-given the order to fix bayonets, and stood up
-for the charge. That did it for the German
-infantry! They turned tail and ran for their
-lives.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_65">65</a></span>
-Our captain cried out, “Now you’ve got
-’em, men!” But we hadn’t. Their artillery
-begins with that to fire more hellish than ever,
-and before you could almost think what to do a
-fresh lots of the “sausages” came along, and
-we had to beat a retreat.</p>
-
-<p>During the retreat one of our sergeants
-was wounded and fell. With that our captain
-runs back and tries to lift him. As he was
-doing so he was struck in the foot, and fell over.
-We thought he was done for, but he scrambles
-up and drags the sergeant along until a couple
-of us chaps goes out to help ’em in. You
-should have seen his foot when he took his
-boot off—I mean the captain. It wasn’t half
-smashed.</p>
-
-<p class="p2">How a number of British troops made a dash
-in the night to save some women and children
-from the Germans was told by Lance-corporal
-Tanner, of the 2nd Oxfordshire and Bucks
-Light Infantry. On the Sunday the regiment
-arrived at Mons.</p>
-
-<p class="p2">We took up our position in the trenches,
-he said, and fought for some time. In the
-evening the order came to retire, and we marched
-back to Conde, with the intention of billeting
-for the night and having a rest. Suddenly,
-about midnight, we were ordered out, and set
-off to march to the village of Douai, some miles<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_66">66</a></span>
-away, as news had reached us that the Germans
-were slaughtering the natives there.</p>
-
-<p>It was a thrilling march in the darkness,
-across the unfamiliar country. We were liable
-to be attacked at any moment, of course, but
-everyone was keen on saving the women and
-children, and hurried on. We kept the sharpest
-lookout on all sides, but saw nothing of the
-enemy.</p>
-
-<p>When we reached Douai a number of the
-inhabitants rushed out to meet us. They were
-overjoyed to see us, and speedily told what
-the Germans had done. They had killed a
-number of women and children. With fixed
-bayonets we advanced into the village, and
-we saw signs all around us of the cruelty of
-the enemy.</p>
-
-<p class="p2">Private R. Wills, of the Highland Light Infantry,
-who also took part in the march to the
-village, here continued the story.</p>
-
-<p class="p2">We found that most of the Germans had
-not waited for our arrival, and there were only
-a few left in the place. However, we made sure
-that none remained there.</p>
-
-<p>We started a house-to-house search. Our
-men went into all the houses, and every now
-and then they found one or two of the enemy
-hiding in a corner or upstairs. Many of them
-surrendered at once, others did not.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_67">67</a></span>
-When we had cleared the village, some of
-us lay down on the pavements, and snatched
-an hour’s sleep. At 3.30 we marched away
-again, having rid the place of the enemy, and,
-getting back to camp, were glad to turn in.</p>
-
-<p>A sergeant of the Royal Field Artillery, who
-was wounded by shrapnel just outside Mons
-village, said that the German artillery fire was
-good; once the enemy’s gunners got the range
-they did well.</p>
-
-<p>Their shooting was every bit as good as
-ours, and although our battery made excellent
-practice, three of our men were killed, and
-twenty out of thirty-six were wounded. I lay
-on the field all night, and was rescued the next
-morning. Fortunately, the Germans did not
-come and find me during those long hours of
-loneliness.</p>
-
-<p class="p2">In such tales of these men in hospital, and in
-the letters they have written home, there is a
-common agreement that the German rifle shooting
-is beneath contempt—“they shoot from the
-hip and don’t seem to aim at anything in particular;”
-but their artillery practice is spoken of
-with respect and admiration. The German
-artillery is very good, writes Private Geradine,
-of the 1st Northumberland Fusiliers, but their
-aeroplanes help them a lot. It is a pretty sight<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_68">68</a></span>
-to see the shells burst in the night, he adds—it’s
-like Guy Fawkes Day!</p>
-
-<p class="p2">I like too, such robust cheerfulness and gay
-good-humour in face of the horrors of death as
-sounds through the letter of Sapper Bradley:</p>
-
-<p class="p2">I have never seen our lads so cheery as they
-are under great trials. You couldn’t help being
-proud of them if you saw them lying in the
-trenches cracking jokes or smoking while they
-take pot shots at the Germans.... We have
-very little spare time now, but what we have we
-pass by smoking concerts, sing-songs, and story-telling.
-Sometimes we have football for a change,
-with a German helmet for a ball, and to pass the
-time in the trenches have invented the game of
-guessing where the next German shell will drop.
-Sometimes we have bets on it, and the man who
-guesses correctly the greatest number of times
-takes the stakes.</p>
-
-<p>And surely no less do I like the equally courageous
-but more sombre outlook of the Scottish
-Private who complained of the famous retreat
-from Mons, It was “Retire! retire! retire!”
-when our chaps were longing to be at them. But
-they didn’t swear about it, because being out
-there and seeing what we saw makes you feel
-religious.</p>
-
-<p>I like that wonderful diary kept by a driver of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_69">69</a></span>
-the 4th Ammunition Column, 3rd section, R.F.A.
-It was sent over from Paris by Mr. Harold Ashton,
-<cite>The Daily News</cite> correspondent, and is as naïvely
-and minutely realistic as if it were a page out of
-Defoe. The driver’s interests are naturally
-centred in his horses, they hold the first place in
-his regard, the excitements of the war coming
-second. He records how he went from Hendon
-to Southampton on the 21st August:</p>
-
-<p class="p2">Got horses on board all right, though the
-friskiest of them kicked a lot. Got to Havre
-safe. Food good—rabbit and potatoes and
-plenty of beer, not our English sort, but the
-colour of cyder. Us four enjoyed ourselves with
-the family, had a good time, and left ten o’clock
-next day well filled up. Our objective was
-Compiègne. We got through all right, watering
-our horses on the way from pumps and taps at
-private houses. The people were awful kind,
-giving us quantities of pears, and filling our water-bottles
-with beer. That was all right. Our
-welcome was splendid everywhere. At Compiègne
-we got into touch with the Germans.
-Very hot work. We marched from Compiègne
-about eleven o’clock on the 31st, which was Sunday.
-The way was hard. Terrible steep hills
-which knocked out our older and weaker horses.
-Collick broke out among them, too, and that was
-bad. We lost a good many.... Slept until<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_70">70</a></span>
-5 a.m. and then marched on again, still retreating.
-Hot as ——. Nothing to eat or drink. Plenty
-of tea, but nothing to boil it with. At last we got
-some dry biscuits and some tins of marmalade.
-Bill ——, whose teeth were bad, went near mad
-with toothache after the jam.... No dead
-horses, thank God, to-day. I hope we have
-checked that —— collick, but my horse fell into
-a ditch going through the wood and could not get
-out for over an hour. I couldn’t go for help,
-because the Germans had got the range of the
-place and their shells were ripping overhead like
-blazes. Poor old Dick (the horse), he was that
-fagged out by the long march. At last I got
-him out and went on, and by luck managed
-to pick up my pals.... The Germans were
-lambing in at us with their artillery, and poor old
-Dick got blowed up. I thank God I wasn’t on
-him just then. Sept. 2.—More fighting and worser
-than ever. I don’t believe we shall ever
-get to Paris.... Now we come to Montagny,
-and fighting all the time. Rabbits and apples
-to eat gallore, but still no money, and no
-good if we had because we carnt spend it.
-Sept. 3.—We progressed this day four miles
-in twelve hours. Took the wrong road, and had
-to crawl about the woods on our stummoks like
-snakes to dodge the German snipers. We had one
-rifle between four of us, and took it in turns to
-have goes. We shot one blighter and took another<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_71">71</a></span>
-prisoner. They was both half starved and covered
-with soars. Then the rifle jammed, and we had
-nothing to defend ourselves with. At last we
-found the main body again. They wanted more
-horses, and we were just bringing them up and
-putting them to the guns when a German areyplane
-came over us and flue round pretty low. The
-troops tried to fetch him down, and some bullets
-went through the wings, but then he got too high.
-He dropped a bomb in the middle of us, but it
-exploded very weak and nobody was hurt. Next
-day we started on a night march, and got to
-Lagny Thorigny, and camped outside the town,
-where the people fed us on rabbits again. I said
-I was sick of rabbits, and me and Bill walked
-acrost to a farmhouse and borrowed three chickens,
-which we cooked. It was fine.... Outside
-Lagny there was more fierce fighting—20 miles of
-it—and the Germans were shot down like birds.
-Sept. 3 (continued).—Firing is still going on, but
-it is not so fierce, though scouts have come in and
-told us there are 10,000 Germans round us this
-day. To-night I got two ounces of Navy Cut.
-It was prime. Sept. 8.—We are marching on
-further away from Paris. We shall never get
-there, I guess. Sept. 12.—In the village of Crecy.
-Plenty of food and houses to sleep into. Here we
-have got to stay until further orders. Collick still
-very bad.</p>
-
-<p>The calm matter-of-fact air with which he<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_72">72</a></span>
-encounters whatever comes to him, the keen joy
-he takes in small pleasures by the way; his
-philosophic acceptance of the fate of “poor old
-Dick”—the whole thing is so unruffled, so self-possessed,
-so Pepysian in its egoism and so
-artlessly humorous that one hopes this phlegmatic
-driver will keep a full diary of his campaignings,
-and that Mr. Ashton will secure and publish it.</p>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_73">73</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="vspace"><a id="III"></a>III<br />
-
-<span class="subhead"><span class="smcap">The Destruction of Louvain</span></span></h2>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poem-container">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="iq">“<i>Such food a tyrant’s appetite demands.</i>”<br /></span>
-</div>
-
-<div class="attrib"><span class="smcap">Wordsworth.</span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>The stupid arrogance of the German military
-caste has always made them ridiculous in the
-eyes of decent human creatures; it was surprising,
-amusing, and yet saddening, too, to
-see an intelligent people strutting and playing
-such war-paint-and-feathers tricks before high
-heaven, but it appears that the primitive impulses
-that survive in their character are stronger and
-go deeper than we had suspected. There are
-brave and chivalrous spirits among Germany’s
-officers and men; that goes without saying;
-but the savage and senseless barbarities that
-have marked her conduct of the present war
-will make her name a byword for infamy as long
-as it is remembered. There seems no doubt—the
-charges are too many and too widely spread—that
-her troops have murdered the wounded,
-have shot down women and children, have even<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_74">74</a></span>
-used them as shields, driving them in front of
-their firing line; they have ruthlessly murdered
-unarmed civilians, and have blasted farmsteads
-and villages into ashes on the flimsiest provocation;
-sometimes, so far as one can learn,
-without waiting for any provocation whatever.
-Even if their hands were clean of that innocent
-blood, the wanton, insensate destruction of such
-a city as Louvain is sufficient of itself to put
-them outside the pale of civilised societies. No
-doubt they were smarting with humiliation that
-they had been so long delayed breaking through
-the stubborn opposition of the Belgians at Liège;
-but Louvain was an unfortified city and they
-were allowed to take peaceable possession of it.
-Nevertheless, on August 25th whilst the fighting
-round Mons was at its hottest and Russia was
-sweeping farther and farther over the frontiers
-of East Prussia, in some sort of burst of vengeful
-frenzy they laid one of the loveliest old cities
-of the world in ruins, burnt or shattered most of
-its priceless art treasures, and left its citizens
-homeless. Of course they have been busy ever
-since trying to cover up their shame with excuses,
-but such a wanton crime is too great and too
-glaringly obvious to be hidden or excused.</p>
-
-<p>Four impressively realistic descriptions of what
-happened when the Germans thus went mad in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_75">75</a></span>
-Louvain have been published in the <cite>Daily Telegraph</cite>:</p>
-
-<p class="p2">1. From a <cite>Daily Telegraph</cite> Folkestone Correspondent,
-Saturday, August 29th:</p>
-
-<p class="p2">Among the refugees arriving here to-day were
-women and children from Louvain and soldiers
-from Liège, all narrating thrilling adventures.
-Some of the refugees had obviously hurriedly
-deserted their homes, wrapping a few of their
-belongings in sheets of newspaper.</p>
-
-<p>One woman from Louvain tore down the
-curtains from her windows, wrapped them round
-some wearing apparel, and ran from her house
-with her two children. In the street she became
-involved in a stampede of men, women, and
-children tearing away from the burning town,
-whither she knew not. This woman’s story was
-so disjointed, so interspersed with hysterical sobs
-and exclamations, that it is impossible to make a
-full and coherent narrative of it. Periodically
-she clasped her children, gazed round upon the
-English faces, and thanked God and bemoaned
-her fate alternately.</p>
-
-<p>Although suffering from extreme nervous excitement,
-another woman had intervals of comparative
-calmness during which she described
-her experiences as follows:</p>
-
-<p>“Ah! m’sieu,” she exclaimed, “I will tell<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_76">76</a></span>
-you, yes, of the burning of Louvain. We had
-pulled down some of the buildings so that the
-Germans should not mount guns on them when
-they came. I believe that was the reason. We
-were in a state of terror because we had heard of
-the cruelties of the Germans.”</p>
-
-<p>Every time the poor woman referred to the
-Germans she paused to utter maledictions upon
-them.</p>
-
-<p>“Well,” she proceeded, “they came, and all
-we had heard about them was not so bad as we
-experienced. In the streets people were cruelly
-butchered, and then on all sides flames began to
-rise. We were prepared for what we had regarded
-as the worst, but never had we anticipated that
-they would burn us in our homes.</p>
-
-<p>“People rushed about frantic to save their
-property. Pictures of relatives were snatched
-from the walls, clothing was seized, and the
-people were demented.</p>
-
-<p>“What was the excuse given? Well, they
-said our people had shot at them, but that was
-absolutely untrue. The real reason was the pulling
-down of the buildings. My house was burning
-when I left it with my three children, and here
-I am with them safe in England, beautiful England.
-But what we have suffered! We were part of a
-crowd which left the burning town, and kept
-walking without knowing where we were going.
-Miles and miles we trudged, I am told we walked<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_77">77</a></span>
-over seventy miles before we came to a railway.
-I never regarded a railway as I did then. I
-wanted to bow down and kiss the rails. I fell
-exhausted, having carried my children in turn.
-Footsore, broken-hearted, after the first joy of
-sighting the railway, I felt my head whirling,
-and I wondered whether it was all worth while.
-Then I thought of my deliverance, and thanked
-God.</p>
-
-<p>“What did Louvain look like? Like what
-it was, a mass of flame devouring our homes, our
-property—to some, perhaps, our relatives. It
-was pitiful to behold. Most of us women were
-deprived of our husbands. They had either
-fallen or were fighting for their country. In the
-town everybody who offered any opposition was
-killed, and everyone found to be armed in any
-way was shot. Wives saw their husbands shot
-in the streets.</p>
-
-<p>“I saw the burgomaster shot, and I saw
-another man dragged roughly away from his
-weeping wife and children and shot through the
-head. Well, we got a train and reached Boulogne,
-and now for the first time we feel really safe.”</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<p>2. From a <cite>Daily Telegraph</cite> Rotterdam correspondent,
-Sunday, August 30th.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_78">78</a></span>
-The following account of the appalling and
-ruthless sacking of Louvain by the Germans
-is given by a representative of the <cite>Nieuwe
-Rotterdamsche Courant</cite>, who himself witnessed
-the outrages:</p>
-
-<p class="p2">I arrived at Louvain on Tuesday afternoon,
-and, accompanied by a German officer, made
-my way through the town. Near the station
-were the Commander and Staff and many of the
-military, for a food and ammunition train had
-just arrived. Suddenly shots rang out from
-houses in the neighbourhood of the station. In
-a moment the shooting was taken up from houses
-all over the town.</p>
-
-<p>From the window of the third floor of an
-hotel opposite the station a machine gun opened
-fire. It was impossible to know which of the
-civilians had taken part in the shooting, and
-from which houses they had fired. Therefore
-the soldiers went into all the houses, and immediately
-there followed the most terrible scenes of
-street fighting. Every single civilian found with
-weapons, or suspected of firing, was put to death
-on the spot. The innocent suffered with the
-guilty.</p>
-
-<p>There was no time for exhaustive inquiry.
-Old men, sick people, women were shot. In the
-meanwhile, part of the town was shelled by
-artillery. Many buildings were set on fire by the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_79">79</a></span>
-shells. On others petrol was poured and a match
-applied. The German officer advised me to go
-away, as several houses being still intact more
-firing was expected.</p>
-
-<p>Under a strong escort two groups of men
-and women arrived, each a hundred strong.
-They were hostages. They were stood in rows by
-the station, and every time a soldier was shot in
-the town ten of these pitiful civilians were slaughtered.
-There was no mercy. Tears and pleadings
-were in vain. The good suffered with the
-bad. At night the scene was terrible, burning
-buildings shedding a lurid glow over this town,
-which was running with tears of blood.</p>
-
-<p>This was no time for sleep. The sight of this
-terrible awfulness drove away all thoughts and
-desire for rest. Towards dawn the soldiers took
-possession of all buildings which had not been
-destroyed.</p>
-
-<p>With the rising of the sun I walked on the
-boulevards, and saw them strewn with bodies,
-many of them being of old people and priests.
-Leaving Louvain for Tirlemont one passed continuously
-through utterly devastated country.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<p>A Dutchman who escaped from Louvain says
-that when the German artillery began to demolish
-the houses and the German soldiers<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_80">80</a></span>
-began looting everything he and his little son
-hid in a cellar beneath a pile of pneumatic tyres.
-One woman took refuge in a pit, in which water
-was up to her waist. Such was the terrible
-plight of the civilians in Louvain. Peeping out
-they saw that neighbours had been driven to
-the roof of a burning building, where they perished.</p>
-
-<p>While still concealed in the cellar the Dutchman
-and his son discovered to their horror that
-the house above them was in flames. The situation
-was terrible, as the people who dared to
-leave their houses were shot like rabbits leaving
-burrows. They heard floor by floor, and then
-the roof, crash down above them. The situation
-was desperate. It was impossible to remain in
-the cellar. Driven out by dire necessity, they
-fled. They were immediately stopped by military
-rifles at the “present.”</p>
-
-<p>“Do not fire, I am German,” said the Dutchman
-in German, seized with a sudden inspiration.
-This secured his safe conduct to the railway
-station. The journey through the town
-was, said this refugee, “like walking through
-hell.” From burning houses he heard agonised
-cries of those perishing in the conflagrations.
-While he was waiting at the station fifty people
-arrived there, driven by troops, who asserted that
-they found them hiding in houses from which<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_81">81</a></span>
-shots had been fired. These people swore by all
-they held sacred they were innocent, but notwithstanding
-all were shot. The Dutchman is
-of opinion that the first firing was not by civilians,
-but by the German outpost on German
-soldiers retreating to Louvain from Malines.</p>
-
-<p><i>Note:</i>—There is no confirmation whatever of
-the Dutch correspondent’s assertion with regard
-to the firing on the German troops. On the
-contrary it has been expressly said by the Belgian
-Government that the Germans fired on their own
-men by mistake.</p>
-
-<div id="ip_81" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 27.9375em;">
- <img src="images/i_080.jpg" width="447" height="600" alt="" />
- <div class="caption">
-
-<div class="floatl"><i>Drawn by E. Matania.</i></div>
-<div class="floatr"><i>Copyright of The Sphere.</i></div>
-<p class="floatc"><span class="smcap">German Soldiers Driving the Inhabitants of Louvain before them
-during the Sacking of the Town.</span></p></div></div>
-
-<p class="p2">3. From a <cite>Daily Telegraph</cite> Rotterdam Correspondent,
-Monday, August 31st:</p>
-
-<p class="p2">“With a crowd of other men, I was marched
-out of Louvain, and at nightfall ordered into a
-church,” said an escaped Dutchman to a <cite>Nieuwe
-Rotterdamsche Courant</cite> representative. “All was
-dark, till suddenly, through the windows, I saw
-the lurid glow of the neighbouring burning houses.
-I heard the agonised cries of people tortured by
-the flames. Six priests moved among us, giving
-absolution. Next morning the priests were shot—why,
-I know not. We were released, and
-allowed to go to Malines. We were compelled to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_82">82</a></span>
-walk with our hands in the air for fear of arms
-being concealed.”</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<p>A Dutchman who has arrived at Breda from
-Louvain gives the <cite>Nieuwe Rotterdamsche Courant</cite>
-the following account of the massacre:</p>
-
-<p class="p2">Several German soldiers were billeted on us,
-and just as we were sitting down to the midday
-meal on August 25th the alarm was sounded and
-the soldiers rushed out. Immediately firing
-started, and, knowing the terrible consequences
-of civilians appearing in the streets at such times,
-we sought refuge in the cellar. Next morning
-we attempted to reach the railway station. We
-were arrested.</p>
-
-<p>My wife was taken away from me, and the
-Mayor, the Principal of the University, and I,
-with other men, were taken to a goods shed and
-our hands bound. I saw 300 men and boys
-marched to the corner of the Boulevarde van
-Tienen, and every one was massacred. The
-heads of police were shot. We were then marched
-towards Herent, and on the way the soldiers
-thought the enemy was approaching, and ordered
-us to kneel down. Then they took cover behind
-us. Only after many such hardships were we
-permitted to return to Louvain and escape by
-train.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_83">83</a></span></p>
-
-<p class="p2">4. From a <cite>Daily Telegraph</cite> Rotterdam correspondent,
-Wednesday, September 2nd:</p>
-
-<p>A Dutchman who has just arrived at Breda
-from Louvain gives the following vivid description
-of his terrible experiences in Louvain,
-where he was present at the burning of the
-city:</p>
-
-<p>We Dutchmen in Louvain at first had nothing
-to fear from the German soldiers, but all the
-houses abandoned by their owners were ransacked,
-notwithstanding the warnings from the military
-authorities forbidding the troops to pillage. In
-Louvain, as in all other towns they have occupied,
-the Germans imprisoned as hostages of war the
-Burgomaster, two magistrates, and a number of
-influential citizens.</p>
-
-<p>Before the Germans entered the town the
-Civic Guard had been disarmed, and all weapons
-in the possession of the population had to be given
-up. Even toy guns and toy pistols and precious
-collections of old weapons, bows and arrows, and
-other antique arms useless for any kind of modern
-warfare had to be surrendered, and all these
-things—sometimes of great personal value to
-the owner—have since been destroyed by the
-Germans. The value of one single private collection
-has been estimated at about £1,000.
-From the pulpits the priests urged the people
-to keep calm, as that was the only way to prevent
-harm being done to them.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_84">84</a></span>
-A few days after the entry of the German
-troops, the military authorities agreed to cease
-quartering their men in private houses, in return
-for a payment of 100,000 francs (£4,000) per day.
-On some houses between forty and fifty men
-had been billeted. After the first payment of
-the voluntary contribution the soldiers camped
-in the open or in the public buildings. The
-beautiful rooms in the Town Hall, where the
-civil marriages take place, were used as a stable
-for cavalry horses.</p>
-
-<p class="p2">At first everything the soldiers bought was
-paid for in cash or promissory notes, but later
-this was altered. Soldiers came and asked for
-change, and when this was handed to them
-they tendered in return for the hard cash a piece
-of paper—a kind of receipt.</p>
-
-<p class="p2">On Sunday, the 23rd, I and some other
-influential people in the town were roused from
-our beds. We were informed that an order had
-been given that 250 mattresses, 200 lbs. of coffee,
-250 loaves of bread, and 500 eggs, must be on
-the market-place within an hour. On turning
-out we found the Burgomaster standing on the
-market-place, and crowds of citizens, half naked,
-or in their night attire, carrying everything they
-could lay hands on to the market, that no harm
-might befall their Burgomaster. After this had
-been done the German officer in command told<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_85">85</a></span>
-us that his orders had been misinterpreted, and
-that he only wanted the mattresses.</p>
-
-<p>On Tuesday, the 25th, many troops left the
-town. We had a few soldiers in our house. At
-six o’clock, when everything was ready for dinner,
-alarm signals sounded, and the soldiers rushed
-through the streets, shots whistled through the
-air, cries and groans arose on all sides; but we
-did not dare leave our house, and took refuge
-in the cellar, where we stayed through long and
-fearful hours. Our shelter was lighted up by the
-reflection from the burning houses. The firing
-continued unceasingly, and we feared that at any
-moment our houses would be burnt over our
-heads. At break of day I crawled from the
-cellar to the street door, and saw nothing but
-a raging sea of fire.</p>
-
-<p>At nine o’clock the shooting diminished, and
-we resolved to make a dash to the station. Abandoning
-our home and all our goods except what
-we could carry, and taking all the money we had,
-we rushed out. What we saw on our way to the
-station is hardly describable, everything was
-burning, the streets were covered with bodies
-shot dead and half-burnt. Everywhere proclamations
-had been posted, summoning every man to
-assist in quenching the flames, and the women
-and children to stay inside the houses. The
-station was crowded with fugitives, and I was
-just trying to show an officer my legitimation<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_86">86</a></span>
-papers when the soldiers separated me from my
-wife and children.</p>
-
-<p>All protests were useless, and a lot of us were
-marched off to a big shed in the goods yard, from
-where we could see the finest buildings of the city,
-the most beautiful historical monuments, being
-burned down.</p>
-
-<p>Shortly afterwards German soldiers drove
-before them 300 men and lads to the corner of
-the Boulevard van Tienen and the Maria Theresia
-Street, opposite the Café Vermalen. There they
-were shot. The sight filled us with horror. The
-Burgomaster, two magistrates, the Rector of the
-University, and all police officials had been shot
-already.</p>
-
-<p>With our hands bound behind our backs we
-were then marched off by the soldiers, still without
-having seen our wives or children. We went
-through the Juste de Litsh Street, along the
-Diester Boulevard, across the Vaart and up the
-hill.</p>
-
-<p>From the Mont Cesar we had a full view of
-the burning town, St. Peter in flames, while the
-troops incessantly sent shot after shot into the
-unfortunate town. We came through the village
-of Herent—one single heap of ruins—where
-another troop of prisoners, including half-a-dozen
-priests, joined us. Suddenly, about ten o’clock,
-evidently as the result of some false alarm, we
-were ordered to kneel down, and the soldiers stood<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_87">87</a></span>
-behind us with their rifles ready to fire, using us
-as a shield. But fortunately for us nothing
-happened.</p>
-
-<p>After a delay of half-an-hour, our march was
-continued. No conversation was allowed, and
-the soldiers continually maltreated us. One
-soldier struck me with all his might with the
-heavy butt-end of his rifle. I could hardly walk
-any further, but I had to. We were choked with
-thirst, but the Germans wasted their drinking
-water without offering us a drop.</p>
-
-<p>At seven o’clock we arrived at Camperhout,
-en route for Malines. We saw many half-burnt
-dead bodies—men, women, and children.
-Frightened to death and half-starved, we were
-locked up in the church, and there later joined
-by another troop of prisoners from the surrounding
-villages.</p>
-
-<p>At ten o’clock the church was lighted up by
-burning houses. Again shots whistled through
-the air, followed by cries and groans.</p>
-
-<p>At five o’clock next morning, all the priests
-were taken out by the soldiers and shot, together
-with eight Belgian soldiers, six cyclists, and two
-gamekeepers. Then the officer told us that we
-could go back to Louvain. This we did, but
-only to be recaptured by other soldiers, who
-brought us back to Camperhout. From there we
-were marched to Malines, not by the high road,
-but along the river. Some of the party fell into<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_88">88</a></span>
-the water, but all were rescued. After thirty-six
-hours of ceaseless excitement and danger we
-arrived at Malines, where we were able to buy some
-food, and from there I escaped to Holland. I
-still do not know where my wife and children
-are.—<cite>Reuter’s Special Service.</cite></p>
-
-<p class="p2">So far as available evidence goes, it seems
-clear enough that by some misunderstanding
-the German soldiers fired upon each other in the
-town, and then made the unhappy townsfolk
-pay the price of their tragic blundering. There
-are hopes that the beautiful old Hotel de Ville
-escaped the general holocaust; otherwise Louvain
-and its ancient glories of art and architecture
-are things of the past.</p>
-
-<p class="p2">“Louvain is no longer anything but a heap of
-cinders.... In the name of Europe, of which
-you have till now been one of the most illustrious
-champions,” writes the well-known French
-novelist, Romain Roland, in an open letter
-addressed to the German dramatist, Gerhart
-Hauptmann, “in the name of civilisation, for
-which the greatest of men have been fighting for
-centuries—in the name of the very honor of the
-Germanic race, I adjure you, Gerhart Hauptmann,
-and the German intellectual élite, among whom
-I count so many friends, to protest against this
-crime. If you do not, it can only mean one of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_89">89</a></span>
-two things, either that you approve, or that you
-are impotent to raise your voice against the Huns
-who rule you. In the latter case, how can you
-still pretend that you are fighting for the cause of
-human liberty and progress?... Are you the
-descendants of Goethe, or of Attila?”</p>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_90">90</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="vspace"><a id="IV"></a>IV<br />
-
-<span class="subhead"><span class="smcap">The Fight in the North Sea</span></span></h2>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poem-container">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="iq">“<i>Strong Mother of a Lion line,</i><br /></span>
-<span class="i0"><i>Be proud of these strong sons of thine.</i>”<br /></span>
-</div>
-
-<div class="attrib"><span class="smcap">Tennyson.</span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>In the three weeks that followed on the declaration
-of war, tidings came to us from time to time
-of how our ships were chasing and sinking the
-enemy’s cruisers, capturing his merchantmen
-and keeping the ocean-highways clear for our
-own and neutral commerce; but no word reached
-us from the great British fleet that was keeping
-watch and ward in the North Sea, waiting sleeplessly
-for the German Navy that was sheltered
-behind the impregnable fort of Heligoland to
-dash out and make its loudly threatened raid
-upon our coasts. We heard no word of those
-guardian sailormen, but we slept peacefully in
-our beds at night, confident in their strength,
-their courage, their alertness. Then suddenly,
-on the 28th August, whilst the British and French
-armies were in the heat of their strategic retreat<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_91">91</a></span>
-from Mons, news of our seamen’s dashing fight
-and victory in the North Sea flashed through
-the land. They had grown weary of waiting,
-and as the German was too discreet to venture
-forth to the attack they had slipped into his
-fastness under cover of the dark and hunted
-him out. Until it is possible to compile a connected,
-orderly narrative, the tale of that brilliant
-engagement is best told in the letters of the men
-who had part in it:</p>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 22.—From Albert Roper, first-class petty
-officer of H.M. cruiser “Talbot,” to his
-brother at Leeds:</i></h3>
-
-<p>I cannot give you any news about our movements.
-It is against the rules to do so, and it’s
-a jolly good job, too, for if it was not so, things
-would leak out, and that is just what we do
-not want. We are waiting patiently for Willie’s
-fleet to come out to enable our chaps to have
-a little practice. We try to make ourselves
-as happy as we can in the shape of a sing-song
-occasionally. These evenings are well appreciated.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 23.—From Seaman Wilson, of the “Bacchante,”
-to his wife at Hunslet:</i></h3>
-
-<p>You will have read of our victory in the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_92">92</a></span>
-North Sea. It was fine. Our ship brought the
-dead and wounded and the prisoners back. A
-grim job it was, too. I only wish the whole
-German fleet would come out. We may get a
-chance of coming home soon. Their firing is
-rotten, whilst our men behind the guns are perfect.
-They get a hit every time.</p>
-
-<p>The bounders won’t come out. That was
-the reason our ships had to try and drive them
-out. You see the place is all mined, and if a ship
-runs into one of these mines it means destruction.</p>
-
-<p>The commander of the <i>Liberty</i>, a torpedo
-boat destroyer, asked his ship’s company if
-they would volunteer to go up Kiel Harbour
-with him, and every man said “Yes,” although it
-looked certain death. Up they went, and got
-under the forts of Heligoland and let rip at the
-German cruisers in the harbour. One of the
-wounded sailors of the <i>Liberty</i> told me that
-the shells fired at them were enough to sink a
-fleet. Our ship had only one torpedo and one
-round of ammunition left. So they turned round
-to come out, when a shrapnel shell struck the
-<i>Liberty’s</i> mast, killing the gallant commander
-and three others. The coxswain, although
-wounded, brought the ship safely to our fleet
-that was waiting outside. We pray to God
-that we may come off victorious, and I am
-confident we shall, as every man jack in the
-fleet has the heart of a lion.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_93">93</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 24.—From a Welsh gunner on the
-“Arethusa”:</i></h3>
-
-<p>Just a few lines to let you know how the
-war is going on. I cannot say much, as correspondence
-is strictly secret and letters are likely
-to be opened. The Commodore turned over to
-this ship last Wednesday, and we were in action
-on Friday at 7.45 a.m. and finished a stiff eight-hours’
-engagement, our loss being eleven killed
-and fifteen injured in this ship alone.</p>
-
-<p>We were done after the fight, engines disabled,
-and had to be towed to Chatham. One
-man was all that was left at my gun. But still,
-after all, we saw them off. We blew them to
-——. Three fights we had. As soon as we are
-patched up we shall be off again.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 25.—From Gunner John Meekly, of Leeds:</i></h3>
-
-<p>Been in battle, and, wonder of wonders, haven’t
-scored a scratch. My ship, as you know, is the
-<i>Arethusa</i>—“Saucy Arethusa” as history knows
-her. She was the first there, and the first that
-shot home. It was her that made them come out,
-and her that took the most prominent part, as all
-the ship’s company know only too well. Now we
-are in dry dock.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_94">94</a></span>
-We had to sacrifice ourselves almost to do
-what we did do—to get them out of their shells.
-Not only were submarines and mines a menace,
-but also the fire from the forts. We got within
-their range, and our ship suffered the most.
-We have got a fearless admiral, and at the same
-time a decent fellow.</p>
-
-<p>I saw an account in the papers when we
-got in dock, and I was very pleased with it,
-because another ship had been mistaken for us.
-The name of our commodore is Tyrwhitt.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 26.—From Midshipman Hartley, of H.M.
-battle-cruiser “Lion,” to his parents at Burton-on-Trent:</i></h3>
-
-<p>At last we have had a taste of gunfire, but
-it was only a taste. We ran into three light
-German cruisers. Two of them were sunk, and
-one managed to make off in a sinking condition
-and badly on fire forward and aft. Of course,
-their guns had about the same effect on us as
-a daisy air-rifle. The funny thing, which you
-should have seen, was all the stokers grubbing
-about after the action looking for bits of shell.</p>
-
-<p>The Germans fought awfully well and bravely,
-but the poor beggars hadn’t a dog’s chance of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_95">95</a></span>
-living through it. The <i>Mainz</i> was the name of one
-of those sunk. Two of their destroyers were also
-sunk.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 27.—From a Scottish seaman (Published
-in “The Scotsman”):</i></h3>
-
-<p>It was a sight worth seeing. We chased two
-German destroyers of the “S” class, one of which
-went on fire, and the other was sunk by eight
-British destroyers, including the <i>Defender</i>. We
-chased them for about four hours, and one showed
-great pluck as the crew refused to haul down
-the flag, and she sank with the German
-flag flying. When she sank, and even before it,
-the sailors were swimming towards the British
-ships, shouting in broken English that they had
-surrendered, and appealing for help. It was a
-terrible sight to see the wounded in the water,
-and we assisted in throwing out lifebelts and
-ropes to them, while the whaler and a skiff were
-also lowered, together with small boats from the
-other British vessels. While engaged in picking
-up the wounded and other survivors, we were
-fired on by a big four-funnelled German cruiser,
-so that we had to leave our two boats. We
-watched the cruiser firing seven or eight 11-inch
-guns, which made us keep going well ahead to
-keep out of the way.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_96">96</a></span>
-A piece of shell struck one of the gun’s crew
-on the head, and dropped at my feet, and we had
-to keep dodging the shells round the bridge. A
-light cruiser at last came to the rescue, for the
-destroyer’s guns were no use against those of the
-Germans’. Our cruiser sank the German cruiser,
-and a good many of the enemy’s boats escaped.
-About 12 o’clock on Saturday one of the latest
-submarines signalled that she had saved the
-boat’s crew (9 men and 1 officer) while following
-the big cruiser to torpedo her. It was believed
-these fellows had been lost, and their mates on
-board never dreamt of seeing them again. Some
-German survivors were put aboard a destroyer,
-and they were cheered by the British tars who
-were anxious to hear the news from them. A
-German stoker said they did not want to fight
-England, and it was too much Germany fighting
-so many countries. It was terrible to hear the
-cries of the wounded in the water, and we did
-not get a chance to pick them up. The men
-on the sinking destroyer stuck to their guns to the
-last, and they were firing at their own men who
-dived for our ships. Some had lifebelts on, and
-the officers tried to frighten them by saying the
-British would put them in front of their guns.
-We had only two hurt.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<div id="ip_96" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 25.625em;">
- <img src="images/i_096.jpg" width="410" height="600" alt="" />
- <div class="caption">
-
-<div class="floatl"><i>Drawn by Philip Dadd, from a sketch<br />
-by G. H. Davis.</i></div>
-<div class="floatr"><i>Copyright of The Sphere.</i></div>
-<p class="floatc"><span class="smcap">Rescued by Submarine. A Strange Incident during the Naval
-Action off Heligoland.</span></p></div></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_97">97</a></span></p>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 28.—From a gun-room officer on H.M.
-battle-cruiser “Invincible,” to his parents
-at Hove:</i></h3>
-
-<p>The particular ship we were engaged with was
-in a pitiful plight when we had finished with her.
-Her funnels shot away, masts tottering, great
-gaps of daylight in her sides, smoke and flame
-belching from her everywhere. She speedily
-heeled over and sank like a stone, stern first.
-So far as is known none of her crew was saved.
-She was game to the last, let it be said, her flag
-flying till she sank, her guns barking till they
-could bark no more. Although we suffered no
-loss we had some very narrow escapes. Three
-torpedoes were observed to pass us, one, it is said,
-within a few feet. Four-inch shells, too, fell
-short, or were ahead of us. The sea was alive
-with the enemy’s submarines, which, however,
-luckily did no damage. They should not be
-under-rated, these Germans. They’ve got “guts.”
-That cruiser did not think apparently of surrender.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_98">98</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 29.—From a Bluejacket in the North Sea,
-to his friends at Jarrow:</i></h3>
-
-<p>On August 24th we made a dash for the
-German coast and were lucky enough to come
-across two German cruisers. Then the fun started.
-We pursued one, and when I tell you we can do
-thirty knots, you can imagine what chance she
-had of getting away. She was a heavier boat
-than us, and the engagement lasted four hours.
-At the end of that time she was a terrible sight.
-She was on fire from stem to stern; the Germans
-were jumping overboard, and at the finish only
-seventeen out of 400 were saved. It is a fact
-that the Germans only stayed at their guns under
-the orders of their officers, who stood over them
-with revolvers. Three dozen of their bodies,
-which were picked up, bore marks of revolver
-shots. Five days every week for the last four
-weeks we have swept the North Sea, and all we
-discovered were the aforesaid two cruisers and
-about a dozen trawlers, which we sank. There
-is no sign of the big German Navy. They are in
-Kiel Harbour, and if they come out—well, there
-will be no German Navy left. The only things
-they are using are mines and submarines. In
-fact, the so-called German Navy is a “wash-out.”<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_99">99</a></span>
-We have been within ten miles of their base and
-they will not come out.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 30.—From Seaman-Gunner Brown, to his
-parents at Newport, Isle of Wight:</i></h3>
-
-<p>We and another ship in our squadron came
-across two German cruisers. We outed one and
-started on the second, but battle-cruisers soon
-finished her off. Another then appeared, and
-after we had plunked two broadsides into her
-she slid off in flames. Every man did his bit, and
-there was a continuous stream of jokes. We
-pencilled on the projectiles. “Love from England,”
-“One for the Kaiser,” and other such
-messages.</p>
-
-<p>The sight of sinking German ships was
-gloriously terrible; funnels and masts lying about
-in all directions, and amidships a huge furnace,
-the burning steel looking like a big ball of sulphur.
-There was not the slightest sign of fear, from the
-youngest to the oldest man aboard.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_100">100</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 31.—From a man in a warship’s engine-room:</i></h3>
-
-<p>We stayed down there keeping the engines
-going at their top speed in order to cut off the
-Germans from their fleet. We could hear the
-awful din and the scampering of the tars
-on the deck as they rushed about from point to
-point. We could hear the shells crashing against
-the side of the ship or shrieking overhead as
-they passed harmlessly into the water, and we
-knew that at any moment one might strike us
-in a vital part, and send us below never to come
-up again. It is ten times harder on the men whose
-duty is in the engine-room than for those on
-deck taking part in the fighting, for they at least
-have the excitement of the fight, and if the ship
-is struck they have more than a sporting chance
-of escape. We have none, and the medals and
-pats on the back when the fight is won are not
-for us, who are only common mechanics.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 32.—From Seaman Jack Diggett, of West
-Bromwich, to his brother:</i></h3>
-
-<p>You will have heard of our little job in the
-North Sea. We sank five ships and ran a few off.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_101">101</a></span>
-Of course it was only a trial spin. We kicked
-off last Friday about six in the morning, and we
-won 5—nil. Not bad, considering we are playing
-“away.” Their goalkeepers could not hold us,
-we were so hot. Our forwards shot beautifully,
-and our defence was sound. We agreed to play
-extra time if we had not finished, but we had
-done in time. It must not be thought that we
-had it all our own way, for they were very
-brave, and fought until one of our boys
-fired a shot at the last gun in the <i>Mainz</i> and
-blew the whole gun and crew as well into the sea.
-One of our officers had both his legs blown off,
-and still shouted out to give the Germans another.
-We are all getting ready for the big match of the
-season now when their battle fleet chooses to come
-out. One German officer we got out of the water
-asked, “Are you British?” When our officer
-replied, “Yes,” he said, “God help us!” They
-thought we were the French fleet.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 33.—From a seaman on H.M.S. “Hearty”:</i></h3>
-
-<p>The destroyer <i>Laurel</i> seems to have suffered
-the most. She had one funnel carried right away<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_102">102</a></span>
-and the others riddled like a pepper-box. One
-shell struck her right forward, went through her
-bulkhead, through one galley door, and out
-through the other. The cookie was in there at
-the time, but it missed him and cut through the
-other side of the ship. That cook was born
-under a lucky star. It’s on the bridge and
-around the guns where they suffered most.
-On the <i>Liberty’s</i> bridge, everybody except one
-was killed; in fact they say they were never seen
-since. Poor devils, they must have been carried
-right overboard. The skipper of the <i>Laurel</i>
-had both his legs shot away.</p>
-
-<p>The scout <i>Arethusa</i> came in last. She brought
-100 Germans picked up off the cruiser <i>Mainz</i>. We
-didn’t see them; they were landed down at
-Sheerness. They’ve got one keepsake off her.
-They picked up a German officer, but he died, and
-they buried him at sea. They’ve got his uniform
-hanging up. The cooks on the <i>Arethusa</i> were
-not so lucky. Two cooks were in the galley,
-just having their rum, when a shell killed one
-and blew the other’s arm off. A funny thing,
-they’ve got a clock hanging up; it smashed the
-glass and one hand, but the blooming thing’s still
-going.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_103">103</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 34.—From a seaman on H.M. destroyer
-“Lurcher,” to a friend at Bradford:</i></h3>
-
-<p>We had orders to pick up prisoners. As we
-steamed up dead bodies were floating past the
-ship. We went up alongside the German cruiser
-<i>Mainz</i> just before she sank, and it was an awful
-sight. We got 224 prisoners in a most terrible
-state, and most of them died. It is impossible
-to describe it all on paper. Our decks were red
-with blood, and you see we are only a destroyer,
-so you may tell what a mess we were in.</p>
-
-<p>All the Germans seemed quite happy when we
-got them on board. The worst job of all was
-getting them out of the sea. Some of them had
-legs and arms shot away, battered to pieces. I
-was in our boat just below when their vessel sank,
-and there seemed to be many who were helpless
-on board her. The captain remained behind,
-having had both legs shot away.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 35.—From a Naval Lieutenant to a friend:</i></h3>
-
-<p>That was all. Remains only little details,
-only one of which I will tell you. The most<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_104">104</a></span>
-romantic, dramatic, and piquant episode that
-modern war can ever show. The <i>Defender</i>,
-having sunk an enemy, lowered a whaler to pick
-up her swimming survivors; before the whaler
-got back an enemy’s cruiser came up and chased
-the <i>Defender</i>, and thus she abandoned her whaler.
-Imagine their feelings—alone in an open boat
-without food, 25 miles from the nearest land, and
-that land the enemy’s fortress, with nothing but
-fog and foes around them. Suddenly a swirl
-alongside and up, if you please, pops his Britannic
-Majesty’s submarine E 4, opens his conning
-tower, takes them all on board, shuts up again,
-dives, and brings them home 250 miles! Is not
-that magnificent? No novel would dare face
-the critics with an episode like that in it, except,
-perhaps, Jules Verne; and all true!</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 36.—From a seaman on one of the British
-destroyers:</i></h3>
-
-<p>We have at last had an innings at the Germans.
-It was a go. Fully seven hours we fought
-shot for shot. I had the pleasure of seeing four
-German ships go down. We never knew but it<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_105">105</a></span>
-might be our turn next, as great shells were
-falling all around us. Several shells went just
-over our heads, whistling just like a needle on a
-broken record. Would you believe it, one of our
-boats had actually stopped to pick up German
-wounded when the Germans fired on her?</p>
-
-<p>I think all our men took it just as though
-we were having our annual battle practice—cool,
-laughing, and cracking jokes, with shell
-all around them. All the thought was just of
-shooting it into them—and they got it! I was
-told they lost 1,500 men. I shall never understand
-how it was our ship was not hit, for we
-were within range of their cruisers and the
-Heligoland forts. We are ready for another
-smack at them.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 37.—From a seaman on H.M.S. “New
-Zealand” to his uncle in Halifax:</i></h3>
-
-<p>The torpedo craft had rather a hot time
-with the enemy in the early morning, but
-suddenly we appeared out of the mist. To say
-that they were surprised is to put it mildly,
-because before they knew where they were we
-were playing our light cruisers, and the destroyers<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_106">106</a></span>
-worried them like terriers. Then for us to
-come along and give them the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">coup de grace</i> was
-absolutely <em>It</em>.</p>
-
-<p>Two of their ships, I am convinced, would
-have been floating to-day, but as our small ships
-gathered round them to take off their survivors—all
-their flags were struck—they opened fire, only
-to be sent to Davy Jones’s locker a little quicker
-than they could shoot. Well, we succeeded in
-sending some good ships and some unfortunate
-men to the bottom in something like fourteen
-minutes. Not a bad score for the cricket season,
-is it?</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 38.—From a seaman on board the flagship of
-the first destroyer squadron, to his friends at
-Wimbledon:</i></h3>
-
-<p>We had a very decent splash last week off
-Heligoland, as doubtless you have read. Our
-ship was not hit at all, though some shots were
-pretty near. It was a fine sight to see the <i>Lion</i>
-demolish one cruiser. We could see her (the
-cruiser’s) shots falling short, but still the <i>Lion</i>
-did not fire. For fully ten minutes the cruiser<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_107">107</a></span>
-belted away without getting a hit. Then the
-<i>Lion</i>, who was leading the line, hoisted “open
-fire,” turned slowly and majestically round and
-fired her broadside—once. It was quite sufficient.
-Up went a cloud of smoke and steam from the
-target, and when it cleared her aft funnel was at a
-rakish angle, and a huge rent appeared the length
-of her side.</p>
-
-<p>After a few more “salvoes” she was rapidly
-sinking by the stern. Shortly afterwards she
-half-hauled down her ensign, and as we were
-steaming up to stand by and rescue her survivors,
-she hoisted it again and opened fire. It
-was a dirty trick, but they got their deserts.
-Once again the <i>Lion</i> turned, and this time fired
-but five shots from her huge turrets. Amidst a
-shower of splinters, smoke, and fire she disappeared.
-We steamed over the spot, but
-although there was plenty of wreckage, not a
-single living thing was to be seen. This incident
-only lasted about forty-five minutes, although the
-whole battle was raging for eight hours.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_108">108</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 39.—Front leading telegraphist H. Francis,
-of Croydon:</i></h3>
-
-<p>We had the first taste of blood on Friday,
-and I can tell you it was O.T. The battle lasted
-from 6.30 a.m. till one p.m., going at it hammer
-and tongs all the time.</p>
-
-<p>We came back with sixty prisoners, one of
-them being Admiral von Tirpitz’s son, who was
-second-lieutenant in the <i>Mainz</i>. We were within
-twenty yards of her when she went down, and I
-can tell you it was a grand sight.</p>
-
-<p>Their officers were shooting the men as they
-jumped overboard, and one chap on the bridge
-was beckoned to by our commander to come off.
-But there was “nothing doing.” He simply
-folded his arms, shook his head, and as the ship
-rolled over he never moved. The captain also
-went down in her. He had both his legs blown off.</p>
-
-<p>For a quarter of an hour the sea was simply
-alive with Germans, all singing out most piteously,
-and, as we pulled them on board, we marvelled
-how they managed to swim with the wounds they
-had, some with feet off, some with one or two legs
-off, some with their arms gone.</p>
-
-<p>The Kaiser has been stuffing his men up
-that the English cannot shoot. They know
-differently now. They were greatly surprised<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_109">109</a></span>
-when we picked them up and looked after
-them.</p>
-
-<p>Pleased to say I am enjoying myself, and
-longing for more.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 40.—From Gunner T. White:</i></h3>
-
-<p>We didn’t waste more shots than was necessary
-on the Germans off Heligoland. One of
-their destroyers was knocked over first shot. It
-was one of the cleanest shots you ever saw, and
-the man who fired it is the proudest man in our
-ship to-day.</p>
-
-<p>Next time I fancy the Germans will want to
-make it a rule of the fight that a German ship
-must be allowed at least ten shots to one of ours
-before the knock-out is fired. Of course, it’s
-very hard on the rest of us, because it simply
-means that the gunner who gets first shot does the
-trick, and we may be in a dozen fights and never
-get a shot at the enemy once, because there’s
-nothing left to hit.</p>
-
-<p class="p2">Since that first engagement, the British Fleet
-has been waiting alert for the enemy to come<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_110">110</a></span>
-out of hiding and give them a second chance;
-and has incidentally been busy sweeping the sea
-of floating mines and prowling after mine-layers
-that, disguised as Grimsby trawlers, have succeeded
-in putting in some deadly work.</p>
-
-<p class="p2">An interesting account of the efficiency of this
-policing of the North Sea was related by two
-trawler skippers, a week after the fight, to a
-<cite>Daily Telegraph</cite> Correspondent who remarks
-that the <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">modus operandi</i> necessitates a continuous
-vigilance, mostly under cover of the
-darkness, and entails a strain upon the naval
-officers and men that can only be appreciated
-by those who witness it.</p>
-
-<p>The first skipper stated that he had just come
-from Iceland:</p>
-
-<p class="p2">At one point up north there was, he said,
-a solid wall of warships, which made it impossible
-for any foe to break through undetected.
-The scrutiny did not end with a mere examination
-at the point mentioned. After being released
-our boat was followed by a couple of torpedo
-destroyers until we reached our destination. In
-this way we were not only convoyed, but the
-warships made absolutely certain that we were<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_111">111</a></span>
-British trawlers. The experience, being novel
-to us, was very inspiring.</p>
-
-<p class="p2">The other skipper’s story was even more interesting.
-He is in charge of a North Sea boat,
-and anchored each night near the shore.</p>
-
-<p class="p2">We were laid under the land, he said, when
-about two in the morning a cruiser suddenly
-appeared alongside of us. All his lights were
-extinguished, and the quiet way in which he came
-up and the clever tactics he showed in getting
-alongside without doing any damage was astonishing.</p>
-
-<p>Talk about cats seeing in the dark, these
-naval officers are wonderful. When the cruiser
-reached us all we could see was a huge black
-object hemming us in. A voice shouted out,
-“Who are you?” and I answered back, “A
-British trawler.” “What is your name?” he
-asked, and I replied. “When did you leave?”
-he next asked. I told him. “What were your
-orders when you left?” he next asked. I told him
-and in a flash the commander of the cruiser
-shouted back, “All right.”</p>
-
-<p>It was a fine piece of work, believe me, but
-there was something even more astonishing.
-Directly the commander had finished talking<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_112">112</a></span>
-to me another voice from the stern of our vessel
-sung out, “The name is quite correct, sir.” A
-submarine had crept up behind to verify our
-name and number, and although all the crew had
-come on deck to see what was happening, not
-one of the men aft had seen the submarine appear.
-The whole episode only occupied a few minutes,
-and the cruiser, after wishing us good morning
-and plenty of fishing, disappeared in the darkness.
-I have seen the British Navy in times of peace,
-but to see it in war time makes you feel proud
-of it. No swank, simply good old Nelson’s motto
-all the time.</p>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_113">113</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="vspace"><a id="V"></a>V<br />
-
-<span class="subhead"><span class="smcap">From Mons to the Walls of Paris</span></span></h2>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poem-container">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="iq">“<i>The Lilies of France and our own Red Rose</i><br /></span>
-<span class="i2"><i>Are twined in a coronal now:</i><br /></span>
-<span class="i0"><i>At War’s bloody bridal it glitters and glows</i><br /></span>
-<span class="i2"><i>On Liberty’s beautiful brow.</i>”<br /></span>
-</div>
-
-<div class="attrib"><span class="smcap">Gerald Massey.</span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>In his despatch to Lord Kitchener, dated September
-7th, Sir John French tells of the four-days’
-battle at Mons, and traces his masterly,
-triumphant retreat, in the face of irresistible odds,
-to Maubeuge, to Cambrai, to Le Cateau, to
-Landrecies, and so almost to within sight of the
-walls of Paris. He pays a glowing tribute to the
-magnificent fighting spirit of the officers and men
-who carried out these stupendous movements with
-such complete success, but at present it is to the
-men themselves you must turn again for detailed
-information of the horrors and heroisms, the
-grim and glorious hours that darkened and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_114">114</a></span>
-lightened through those tumultuous days. “What
-we did in that three weeks English people at
-home will never know,” writes Private J. Harris,
-of the Worcestershire Regiment: “We were
-marching and fighting day and night for three
-weeks without a break.”</p>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 41.—From Private Smiley, of the Gordon
-Highlanders, to his brother, Mr. G. A. Smiley,
-of Chepstow:</i></h3>
-
-<p>On Sunday, 23rd, at Mons, we rose at four
-a.m. and marched out 1,100 strong. We took
-up ground on the extreme flank of the British
-force. Immediately we started to entrench
-ourselves, and to the good trench work we did
-we put down our freedom from casualty. Later
-in the day a hellish tornado of shell swept over
-us, and with this introduction to war we received
-our baptism of fire. We were lining the Mons
-road, and immediately in our front and to our
-rear were woods. In the rear wood was stationed
-a battery of R.F.A. The German artillery is
-wonderful. The first shot generally found us, and
-to me it looked as if the ranges had been carefully
-taken beforehand. However, our own gunners
-were better, and they hammered and battered
-the Germans all the day long.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_115">115</a></span>
-They were at least three to our one, and
-our artillery could not be in fifty places at once,
-so we just had to stick it. The German infantry
-are bad skirmishers and rotten shots, and they
-were simply mowed down in batches by our chaps.
-They came in companies of, I should say, 150
-men in file five deep, and we simply rained bullets
-at them the live-long day. At about five p.m.
-the Germans in the left front of us retired, and
-we saw no more of them.</p>
-
-<p>The Royal Irish Regiment had had an awful
-smashing earlier on, as also had the Middlesex,
-and our company were ordered to go along the
-road as reinforcements. The one and a half mile
-seemed a thousand. Stormed at all the way, we
-kept on, and no one was hit until we came to a
-white house which stood in a clearing. Immediately
-the officer passed the gap hell was let loose
-on us, but we got across safely, and I was the only
-one wounded, and that was with a ricochet
-shrapnel bullet in the right knee.</p>
-
-<p>I knew nothing about it until an hour after,
-when I had it pointed out to me. I dug it out
-with a knife. We passed dead civilians, some
-women, and a little boy with his thigh shattered
-by a bullet. Poor wee fellow. He lay all the
-time on his face, and some man of the Irish was<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_116">116</a></span>
-looking after him, and trying to make him comfortable.
-The devils shelled the hospital and
-killed the wounded, despite a huge Red Cross
-flag flying over it.</p>
-
-<p>When we got to the Royal Irish Regiment’s
-trenches the scene was terrible. They were
-having dinner when the Germans opened on
-them, and their dead and wounded were lying
-all around. Beyond a go at some German
-cavalry, the day drew in, and darkness saw us on
-the retreat. The regiment lost one officer and
-one man dead, one officer and some men severely
-wounded.</p>
-
-<p>We kept up this sort of game (fighting by
-day and retiring by night) until we got to Cambrai,
-on Tuesday night. I dare not mention that place
-and close my eyes. God, it was awful. Avalanche
-followed avalanche of fresh German troops, but
-the boys stuck to it, and we managed to retire
-to Ham without any molestation. Cambrai was
-the biggest battle fought. Out of all the glorious
-regiment of 1,100 men only five officers and 170
-of the men answered the roll-call next day.
-Thank God, I was one of them.</p>
-
-<p>Of course, there may be a number who got
-separated from the battalion through various
-causes, and some wounded who escaped. I hope<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_117">117</a></span>
-so because of the heavy hearts at home. I saw
-the South Lancs, and they were terribly cut up,
-only a remnant left of the regiment.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 42.—From Corporal W. Leonard, of the
-Army Service Corps (a South African War
-reservist) to his mother at Huddersfield:</i></h3>
-
-<p>I know that you will all excuse me for not
-receiving a letter from me this long time, but
-I hope that you will excuse me. Don’t, whatever
-you do at home, don’t worry about me. If
-I just thought that you won’t worry at home I
-shall be all right. You know, mother, I know
-more about war this time than I did last, and
-the conditions also. It’s all right when you
-know the ropes, and my African experiences are
-serving me in good stead here, so I hope and
-trust that you at home are not worrying about
-me; time enough to worry when there is cause.
-Well, I hope and trust all are well at home, as
-it is hell out here. Up to this affair I thought
-that the Germans were a civilised race of people,
-but they are nothing but savages; niggers
-would not do what they do. Just fancy mounting<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_118">118</a></span>
-maxim guns on ambulance wagons bearing the
-Red Cross, cutting the right hand off prisoners
-and turning them loose afterwards minus a
-hand. By jingo, mother, the boys (our boys)
-are absolutely all in. We did give the Boers
-a chance now and again, but these devils we
-don’t give them a cat in hell chance; we’re
-playing the game to the finish. I would not
-care to write so much, as I had better tell you
-when I come home. The Boer War was a tame
-affair. We are moving off again to-night. I
-don’t know where, and we don’t care either;
-it’s a do to a finish this time. I hope you got
-my postcards from Rouen in France, as there
-was some doubt as to whether they would let
-them through or not. I will write home as opportunity
-occurs, and I hope you won’t worry
-about me, because you all know at home that
-I shall always be where I’m wanted, and my
-duty every time, so don’t worry. Tell anyone
-who enquires I am O.K., lost a bit of weight
-perhaps, but not the worse so far, and above
-all don’t believe all you see in the papers, as
-they know practically nothing, as everything is
-done under sealed orders, which never leak out.
-We are not even allowed to say in our letters
-where we are, as they are opened and read by<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_119">119</a></span>
-the captain before they leave here, so you can
-judge for yourselves how things are. And I
-might say, mother, that we are very busy.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 43.—From Corporal Edward Hood, to his
-father, at Taunton:</i></h3>
-
-<p>The fighting lately has been hot all round, and
-the French have had much harder than us in
-some places, but they’re sticking at it manfully,
-and they deserve to win a victory that will wipe
-the Germans off the map. The French make a
-lot of us in camp, and when we pass each other in
-the field, no matter how busy the Frenchman may
-be, they give us hearty cheers to encourage us
-on our way. There’s plenty of friendly rivalry
-between us when there’s hard fighting to be done,
-and when we do get there before the French
-they don’t grudge us our luck. They’re good
-sports right through to the core, and the British
-soldier asks nothing better from allies in the
-field.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_120">120</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 44.—From Private William Burgess, of the
-Royal Field Artillery, to his parents at
-Ilfracombe:</i></h3>
-
-<p>We left our landing place for the front, on
-the Tuesday, and got there on Saturday night.
-The Germans had just reached Liège then, and
-we got into action on the Sunday morning. The
-first thing we did was to blow up a bridge to
-stop the Germans from crossing. Then we
-came into action behind a lot of houses attached
-to the main street. We were there about ten
-minutes, when the houses started to fall around
-us. The poor people were buried alive. I saw
-poor children getting knocked down by bursting
-shells.</p>
-
-<p>The next move was to advance across where
-there was a Red Cross Hospital. They dropped
-shells from airships and fired on it until the place
-was burnt down to the ground. Then they got
-a big plan on to retire and let the French get
-behind them. We retired eight miles, but we
-had to fight until we were forced to move again.
-We got as far as Le Cateau on Tuesday night.
-We camped there until two o’clock next morning.</p>
-
-<p>Then we all heard there was a big fight coming
-off, so we all got together and cleared the field
-for action.... (The letter mentions the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_121">121</a></span>
-numbers of men engaged, and states that the
-Germans were in the proportion of three to one.)
-... We cut them down like rats. We could
-see them coming on us in heaps, and dropping
-like hail. The Colonel passed along the line,
-and said, “Stick it, boys.”</p>
-
-<p>I tell you, mother, it was awful to see your
-own comrades dropping down—some getting their
-heads blown off, and others their legs and arms. I
-was fighting with my shirt off. A piece of shell
-went right through my shirt at the back and never
-touched me. It stuck into a bag of earth which
-we put between the wheels to stop bullets.</p>
-
-<p>We were there all busy fighting when an airship
-came right over the line and dropped a bomb,
-which caused a terrible lot of smoke. Of course,
-that gave the Germans our range. Then the shells
-were dropping on us thick. We looked across the
-line and saw the German guns coming towards us.
-We turned our two centre guns on them, and sent
-them yards in the air. I reckon I saw one German
-go quite twenty yards in the air.</p>
-
-<p>Just after that a shell burst right over our gun.
-That one got me out of action. I had to get off
-the field the best way I could. The bullets were
-going all around me on the way off; you see they
-got completely around us, I went about two<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_122">122</a></span>
-miles, and met a Red Cross cart. I was taken to
-St. Quentin’s Hospital. We were shelled out of
-there about two in the morning, and then taken
-in a train, and taken down to a plain near Rouen.</p>
-
-<p>Next morning we were put in a ship for dear
-old England.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 45.—From a Corporal in the King’s Royal
-Rifles, now at Woolwich Hospital:</i></h3>
-
-<p>I was in three engagements, Mons, Landrecies,
-and Cambrai, but the worst of all was Mons. It
-was on Sunday, the 23rd of August, and I shall
-never forget the date. They were easily twenty-five
-to one, and we eventually had to retreat with
-just over a thousand casualties, but heavens, they
-must have had a jolly sight more. At Landrecies,
-where we arrived at 7.30, we thought we were
-going to have a night’s rest, though we were wet
-through and no change, but we hadn’t been there
-long before they (the Germans) started firing;
-they seemed to be in every place we went to. The
-only thing we heard then was, “turn out at once.”
-It was about 10.15 when we turned out, and the
-Colonel’s orders were that we had to take a bridge<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_123">123</a></span>
-if every man was killed. (I thought that sounded
-a wee bit healthy.) I had my last drink out of
-a dirty glass of beer. I says, “good health Billy,”
-and off we went with bayonets fixed.</p>
-
-<p>On our way to the bridge we met the regiment
-who had tried and failed, bringing back its
-wounded and killed in scores. (I thought more
-encouragement for the corps.) I was carrying my
-pal, the rifle, with my right hand. Well, we got
-near the bridge and found out from our scouts
-that there were 10,000 German troops on each
-side of the bridge and we were 1,300 strong.
-(More encouragement.) So we lined a long
-hedge about two yards apart so as to make a
-long line and harder for them to hit. We lay
-here till daybreak just before 4 a.m., and we
-could hear them talking all night about 300 yards
-away. We could see them quite clearly by this
-time; so we started to fire and rolled them over
-by dozens. It wasn’t long, though, before the
-bullets were whizzing past my ears on each side,
-and I began to get my head lower and lower
-till I think I should have buried it in the mud
-if it had got much lower. Their superior numbers
-began to tell and we had to retire as fast
-as we could. I couldn’t go fast enough with my
-pack on (it weighs 84 lbs.), so I threw it away as<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_124">124</a></span>
-did hundreds more, and I finished bridge-taking
-with my old pal only (the rifle).</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 46.—From Lieutenant O. P. Edgcumbe,
-of 1st Battalion D.C.L.I., to his father, Sir
-Robert Edgcumbe, Commandant at Newquay:</i></h3>
-
-<p>
-29th August, 1914.
-</p>
-
-<p>For the last week or ten days we have been
-fighting hard and are now for one day resting.
-Altogether, during five days and five nights, I got
-six hours’ sleep, and so am rather weary. However,
-bullets and a real enemy are a wonderful
-stimulant, and I feel as fit as anything. Do all
-of you write as often as possible, and send me
-some newspapers. It does not matter whether
-there is any news—the sight of a letter from home
-is very cheering.</p>
-
-<p>All our men are somewhat fatigued, but are
-very keen and full of fight. My regiment has
-had a bad time, and I am dreadfully afraid that
-they have been badly cut up, although I can
-as yet get no details. They were caught in a
-village by Germans in the houses, who had
-managed to get there by wearing our uniforms.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_125">125</a></span>
-Never again shall I respect the Germans, or any
-of them I may meet. They have no code of
-honour, and there have been several cases of their
-wearing French and British uniforms, which is,
-of course, against the Geneva Convention.</p>
-
-<p>The weather is good, for which we are
-thankful.</p>
-
-<p>Everything is so peaceful now, and it is such
-a perfect day that were it not for the continuous
-growl of the guns, which never cease, one would
-hardly believe one was in the midst of a huge
-war.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 47.—From Private D. White:</i></h3>
-
-<p>German airships we seldom see now, though
-we used to have them every day over our heads.
-They are finding the French more than a match
-for them, and they most likely prefer to rely on
-their ordinary spies, of whom they have thousands.
-They are found often among the men engaged
-for transport work, but they are such clumsy
-bunglers that they give themselves away sooner
-or later. Some of us who haven’t the heart to
-drown a cat never turn a hair when we see these<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_126">126</a></span>
-scum shot, for they richly deserve what they get
-and a soldier’s death is too good for them.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 48.—From Private Spain, of the 4th Guards
-Brigade (late police-constable at Newry):</i></h3>
-
-<p>We have had three engagements with the
-Germans since I arrived, and I came out quite
-unhurt. The two first were fought on Sunday
-and Monday following. You see I cannot give
-date or place. Secrecy is our motto <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">re</i> war
-and movement of troops for international purposes,
-etc. Our third engagement was nearly
-fatal. We arrived at the town of ——, very
-much fatigued, and fully intending to have a
-good rest. It was a fine town, about as big
-as Newry, but more compact, with many fine
-buildings. We were just about five minutes
-billeted in the various houses, and just stretching
-our weary legs, when an officer came running in,
-shouting “The Germans are upon us; outside
-everyone.” We came out, magazine loaded,
-bayonets fixed, and eager to get a good bayonet
-fight with them. It appears they do not like it.
-But we found none. They had not yet arrived.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_127">127</a></span>
-It was 10 p.m. before they did so. In the meantime
-the poor people were leaving the town in
-crowds, with as much goods and chattels as they
-could carry away, and it was well for them, too.
-It was a dark night when we formed up in the
-streets, and the lamps but dimly burned. The
-noises of rifles and field guns were terrific. We
-rushed to the heads of the various streets, where
-our German foe would advance. Our Field
-Artillery and the Coldstream Guards went out
-to delay their advance whilst we stripped off
-our coats and commenced to tear up the square
-setts, gather carts—in fact, everything that would
-build a barricade to keep back our numerous
-German foe, and we did so under perfect showers
-of shrapnel shell that struck and fell around us,
-and struck the houses about us, but we were
-undaunted, and so succeeded. Firing ceased,
-and we advanced out towards the Coldstream
-Guards’ position. They had given them a good
-fight, but many of them lay for ever silent upon
-the ground. The Germans would not advance
-upon us, so we retired.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_128">128</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 49.—From Corporal Sam Moorhouse, of the
-King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry, to his
-wife at Birkby:</i></h3>
-
-<p>Our company were reserves, and came under
-fire about noon. We were in a ditch—as we
-thought safe—when “Ping! ping!” came the
-bullets, and off we shot across the open, under a
-railway embankment. On the way we passed
-four artillery horses shot dead with shrapnel.
-Then we took up a position on a hillside, when
-round the corner, 700 yards away, came a German
-maxim gun. They were busy getting it ready
-for firing on us, and we were firing at them, when
-our artillery—which was only half a mile away—sent
-two shots and blew up the gun and all the
-men. Then we cleared off and marched till
-twelve midnight. Up again at two and off for
-what was called a rest camp. Still wet clothes,
-and filthy; had no boots off for days. Instead
-of “rest” camp we marched nearly thirty miles,
-arriving at 8 p.m. Here I had a good meal of
-jam, cheese, and bread—first bite of bread for
-days.</p>
-
-<p>Next day we were up before daylight and
-taking up position. We dug trenches, and were
-fired on before we had finished. We were at the
-back—a sort of last firing line. So we lay down<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_129">129</a></span>
-in the trench, and waited. Shrapnel and lyddite
-were flying round us like hail, and our gunners
-were firing too. Such a noise! Just like thunder!
-Well, we stuck out as long as we could when we
-got the order to retire. However I came safely
-away goodness knows.</p>
-
-<p>I picked up my gun and ran up the hill
-and dropped on one side of the road to rest. Then
-I had to get across the road, so got up and was
-half-way across when a shell burst and knocked
-me flat on my face. It must have fused at the
-wrong time, as I got only a cut on my thumb
-from a fragment. Then I got across and dropped
-in a trench where a fellow was lying dead. I
-stayed there only a minute, and then ran off
-over the hill and safe. The bullets were flying
-in all directions and shells were bursting four at
-a time. South Africa was nothing compared to
-this.</p>
-
-<p>I had had no sleep for nights, so decided to
-go back to a little village we had just passed,
-where I sat on a doorstep till I fell asleep, and
-woke up one hour later wet through and chilled
-to the bone. It was still dark when I got back
-to where I left our regiment, and they were off.
-So I trekked away alone, and got on the wrong
-road.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_130">130</a></span>
-About nine in the morning I came across
-some transport, and rode along with stragglers
-of other regiments to a camp. There were about
-sixty of us, and we went to a large camp, about
-2,000 of us—all lost. There I came across Guy
-Jessop of Huddersfield, who was also lost, and
-was glad to meet a pal. We had a walk in the
-town together, and called in a café. We had
-some coffee and rum (Guy paid, as I had no
-money). I played the piano and sang “Mrs.
-Hullaby.” Lucky job they could not understand
-English, or they would have been shocked.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<div id="ip_130" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 28.375em;">
- <img src="images/i_128.jpg" width="454" height="600" alt="" />
- <div class="caption">
-
-<div class="floatl"><i>Drawn by Christopher Clark.</i></div>
-<div class="floatr"><i>Copyright of The Sphere.</i></div>
-<p class="floatc"><span class="smcap">How the Royal Field Artillery Fight.</span></p></div></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 50.—From Private E. W. Dyas, of the
-11th Hussars, to his parents at Mountain Ash:</i></h3>
-
-<p>We landed at Havre, and travelled up
-country. We were under fire for about twenty
-minutes on the first day, and the shells were
-bursting like rain all around us. We got away
-with only one horse killed. It was marvellous.
-We are continually under fire by day and travelling
-by night. It is awful to hear the artillery
-booming death night and day. We were fighting
-day and night for three days. The slaughter was<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_131">131</a></span>
-terrible. I took a dispatch across the battlefield
-when the Germans were retiring, and I passed
-their trenches. The dead were piled up in the
-trenches about ten deep, and there were trenches
-seven miles long. It was terrible to see. We
-are collecting the three cavalry brigades together
-at the present moment for a massive charge. I
-am writing this in the saddle. I may get through
-this again. One bullet penetrated my horse’s
-neck and another one went through the saddle.
-I have had a sword-thrust through my sleeve.
-So I am getting on well.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 51.—From Lieut. Oswald Anne, of the Royal
-Artillery, to his father, Major Anne, of
-Burghwallis Hall:</i></h3>
-
-<p>Dear Dad.—Just got yours of the 13th inst.
-Battling yesterday and the day before. I had
-a pal killed in another battery—five bullets in
-him. I have just seen the first Sausage-maker
-prisoner in hands of some infantry. They had
-the greatest difficulty in stopping the French
-populace from knifing him. The German shrapnel
-is very dangerous stuff, having high explosive<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_132">132</a></span>
-in it. It bursts backwards, and so nullifies our
-frontal shield. No more time or news.</p>
-
-<p class="p2 sigright">August 29th.</p>
-
-<p>The boom of French guns is now in full
-swing, and we are standing easy for the moment.
-Did you get my other letter three days back?
-Just after I had finished it, we had the alarm,
-which proved false, but that night Germans
-marched into the town, thinking we had left it.
-So they say! A gruff German voice answered
-a challenge, and 15 rounds rapid fire from rifles
-and maxims behind the main road barricade,
-laid out every man. Eight hundred were picked
-up next morning in this one street.</p>
-
-<p>An R.E. told me on the canal bridge a maxim
-fired 9,000 rounds and laid out another 1,000.
-The first Germans arriving in one end of this
-town were in French uniforms. Luckily, those
-in the rear were seen and fired on, stampeding
-the ammunition mules, scattering the “Sausages,”
-who were almost laid out in a few rounds of fire.
-Lots of “espions” here, male and female. I
-have hardly seen a German, except prisoners.
-Poor Soames, of the 20th Hussars, was sparrowed
-first fight. W. Silvertop (20th Hussars) is hard
-at it “biffing” Sausages, and a N.C.O.,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_133">133</a></span>
-yesterday, who had lost the Regiment, told
-me 48 hours ago he was well.</p>
-
-<p>“Cigs.” all arrived, and saved my life, also
-load of chocolate. Screaming women rush everywhere
-during conflicts howling “Trahie,” “Perdue,”
-“Sauve qui peut.” One of “D” battery,
-R.H.A., N.C.O., told us they had mowed “Sausage-makers”
-down for ten minutes in one action as
-hard as they could load and still they came in
-masses, till at last the shrieking men ran all ways,
-not knowing where, leaving heaps of semi-moving
-remnants on the ground.</p>
-
-<p>Our crowd, having so far escaped untouched,
-are very lucky. Several Brigades have had the
-devil’s own hail of shot over them. Please
-send me some newspapers sometimes, as we have
-not seen one since I left, bar some old French
-<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">Petit Parisiens</i>.</p>
-
-<p>The Scots Greys from York and the 12th
-Lancers did great work yesterday on hostile
-cavalry, and about wiped out those opposed to
-them. The “Guardies” are in great form.
-Very little sleep nowadays, up at dawn almost
-always, very often before that hour.</p>
-
-<p>A German regiment, dressed in English
-uniforms, the other day billetted with an English
-regiment (at the other end of the town), and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_134">134</a></span>
-when the latter marched out they were about
-broken up by maxim fire from the bedroom
-windows. A German force arrived elsewhere, the
-Berkshire regiment were on guard, and the
-former, in French uniforms, called out from the
-wire entanglements that they waited to interview
-the C.O. A major went forward who spoke
-French, and was shot down immediately. This
-sort of thing is of daily occurrence, and only makes
-matters worse for the “Sausage-makers” when
-our infantry get into them.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 52.—From a reservist in the Royal Field
-Artillery (Published in the “Glasgow Herald”):</i></h3>
-
-<p>I got a nasty hit with a shell on the thick
-of the leg. The Germans caught us napping on
-Wednesday, and what slaughter! It was horrible
-to witness. The Germans came along the village,
-killing the poor women and children and burning
-all the houses. Our division could not hold
-out. We were expecting the French troops to
-meet us, but they were two days late. Our
-battery had a lucky escape of being cut up. We
-entrenched our guns to come into action next<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_135">135</a></span>
-day, but somehow or other we cleared out, and
-had only gone ten minutes before the place was
-blown up.</p>
-
-<p>The officer in charge of my section had his head
-blown off. I was carried off under heavy fire
-on a fellow’s back, and it is to him I owe my life.
-It was a long way to hospital, shells bursting all
-round us. We dropped behind some corn stacks,
-then on we went again. I had no sooner got
-bandaged up when a chap came galloping up
-and said the Germans were in sight. I was the
-second last man to leave the hospital, and ten
-minutes later it was blown up. You cannot
-imagine what things were like. The women and
-children of England can think themselves lucky,
-for the poor women here had to walk from village
-to village, young children in their arms. It
-touched my heart to see the sight. The Germans
-did not use rifles, but big guns, against our
-infantry’s rifles. They are most brutal, killing all
-wounded in a most horrible fashion.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_136">136</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 53.—Front Trooper S. Cargill:</i></h3>
-
-<p>The Germans let all hell loose on us in their
-mad attempt to crush us and so win their way
-to Paris. They didn’t succeed, and they won’t
-succeed. I saw one ghastly affair. A German
-cavalry division was pursuing our retiring infantry
-when we were let loose on them. When
-they saw us coming they turned and fled, at
-least all but one, who came rushing at us with
-his lance at the charge. I caught hold of his horse,
-which was half mad with terror, and my chum
-was going to run the rider through when he
-noticed the awful glaze in his eyes and we saw
-that the poor devil was dead.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 54.—Front an Irish soldier, to his sister
-in County Cork:</i></h3>
-
-<p>I am writing this on a leaf out of a field service
-pocket-book, as notepaper and envelopes are very
-scarce, and we are not allowed to send picture
-postcards of places as they give away where
-we are. Well, this is a lovely country. The
-climate suits me very well. Everything grows
-like mad here. It is rather like Ireland, only<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_137">137</a></span>
-ten times as rich. All that I have seen yet—and
-that is a good lot—is far and away better
-than the best part of the county Limerick. I
-think it would be a pleasure to farm here.</p>
-
-<p>At the present time I am billeted in a farmhouse.
-I sleep in their best bed-room—that is
-when I can go to bed at all—and they give me
-home-made cider, cognac, and coffee, apples,
-plums, etc., and lovely home-made cheese for
-nothing, though they need not supply any food,
-as the rations are served out by the regiment
-every day.</p>
-
-<p>’Tis great fun trying to talk French to them
-and I am picking it up gradually. It is wonderful
-how words and sentences that I learned at school
-come back to me now, and I can generally make
-myself understood all right. It is an awful pity
-to see this beautiful country spoiled by war, and
-it is no wonder the people are so eager to fight
-for it. I don’t think there is a single house
-that has not sent out one or more men to fight
-with the French Army, and their mothers, sisters,
-wives, etc., are very proud of it. There are
-two gone out of this house.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_138">138</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 55.—From Private Carwardine, to the father
-of a comrade-in-arms:</i></h3>
-
-<p>I am very sorry, but I don’t know for sure
-about your Joe. You see, although he was in the
-same company as me, he was not in the same
-section. I only wish he had been. The last
-I saw of him was when we were in the firing line
-making trenches for ourselves. He was about
-600 yards behind us, smoking, and I waved to
-him. Then all of a sudden we had to get down
-in our trenches, for bullets started coming over
-our heads, and shells dropped around us.</p>
-
-<p>We were fighting twelve hours when I got one
-in the back from a shell. After that I knew
-no more until I found myself in hospital, and I
-asked one of our chaps how our company went
-on, and he told me there were only seventeen
-of us left out of 210. I hope Joe is among them.
-You will get to know in the papers in a bit when
-they call the roll.</p>
-
-<p>So cheer up and don’t be downhearted, for if
-Joe is killed he has died a soldier of honour on
-the field. Excuse writing, as I am a bit shaky,
-and I hope to God Joe is safe, for both your
-sakes.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_139">139</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 56.—From Private G. Dunton, of the Royal
-Engineers, to his family at Coventry:</i></h3>
-
-<p>I am in hospital, having been sent home from
-France, wounded in my left hand. I have got one
-shrapnel bullet right through my hand, and another
-through my middle finger against the top
-joint. I was wounded at Cambrai last Wednesday.
-I have been in four hospitals in France, but
-had to be removed on account of the Germans
-firing on the hospitals. I do not think much of
-them, for if it was not for their artillery they would
-be wiped out in quick time. No doubt our losses
-are great, but theirs are far more. The famous
-cavalry of theirs, the Uhlans, are getting cut up
-terribly. All that have been captured have said
-that they are short of food. I must say we have
-had plenty to eat. I was near Mons a week last
-Saturday and we were attacked the same day.
-We have been on the retire ever since last Wednesday,
-when I got wounded, but we shall soon be
-advancing, for they will never reach Paris. I
-am very pleased to see that the Germans are being
-forced back by the Russians. I hope they will
-serve Berlin the same as the Germans have done
-to Belgium. The 9th Brigade was cut up badly;
-in fact, my Division was, but more are wounded
-than killed. There are 1,000 wounded in this<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_140">140</a></span>
-hospital alone, without other hospitals. I must
-say that I am in good health. My hand is
-giving me pain, but I do not mind that. I only
-had four days’ fighting, but it was hard work
-while it lasted. The Germans, although four to
-one, could not break through our lines, and they
-must have lost thousands, as our artillery and
-infantry mowed them down like sheep. Their
-rifle fire took no effect at all. All our wounds
-were done by shrapnel. My hand is not healing
-at all, but I must be patient and give it time.
-The French and Belgian people were very kind to
-us and gave us anything we wanted.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 57.—From a Manchester soldier, in a
-French hospital:</i></h3>
-
-<p>There was a young French girl helping to
-bandage us up. How she stood it I don’t know.
-There were some awful sights, but she never
-quailed—just a sweet, sad smile for everyone.
-If ever anyone deserved a front seat in Heaven,
-this young angel does. God bless her. She
-has the prayers and the love of the remnants
-of our division. All the French people are<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_141">141</a></span>
-wonderfully generous. They gave us anything
-and everything. You simply cannot help loving
-them, especially the children.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 58.—From Private A. McGillivray, a
-Highlander, to his mother:</i></h3>
-
-<p>Of my company only 10 were unhit. I saw a
-handful of Irishmen throw themselves in front
-of a regiment of cavalry who were trying to cut
-off a battery of horse artillery. It was one of
-the finest deeds I ever saw. Not one of the poor
-lads got away alive, but they made the German
-devils pay in kind, and, anyhow, the artillery
-got away to account for many more Germans.
-Every man of us made a vow to avenge the
-fallen Irishmen, and if the German cavalrymen
-concerned were made the targets of every British
-rifleman and gunner they had themselves to
-thank. Later they were fully avenged by their
-own comrades, who lay in wait for the German
-cavalrymen. The Irish lads went at them
-with the bayonet when they least expected it,
-and the Germans were a sorry sight. Some of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_142">142</a></span>
-them howled for mercy, but I don’t think they
-got it. In war mercy is only for the merciful.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 59.—From Private W. Bell, of the South
-Lancashire Regiment, to his wife:</i></h3>
-
-<p>I shall never forget this lot. Men fell dead
-just like sheep. Our regiment was first in the
-firing line, and we were simply cut up. Very few
-escaped, so I think I was very lucky, for I was
-nearly half-a-mile creeping over nothing but dead
-men. In the trenches, bullets and shells came
-down on us like rain. We even had to lift dead
-men up and get under them for safety.</p>
-
-<p>When we got the order to retire an officer was
-just giving the order to charge when he was
-struck dead, and it is a good job we didn’t charge,
-or we would have all been killed. I passed a
-lot of my chums dead, but I didn’t see Fred
-Atkinson (a friend of the family).</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_143">143</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 60.—From Corporal T. Trainor:</i></h3>
-
-<p>Have you ever seen a little man fighting a
-great, big, hulking giant who keeps on forcing
-the little chap about the place until the giant
-tires himself out, and then the little one, who
-has kept his wind, knocks him over? That’s
-how the fighting round here strikes me. We
-are dancing about round the big German army,
-but our turn will come.</p>
-
-<p>Last Sunday we had prayers with shells bursting
-all around us, but the service was finished
-before it was necessary for us to grapple with
-the enemy. The only thing objectionable I have
-seen is the robbing of our dead and wounded by
-German ghouls. In such cases no quarter is
-given, and, indeed, is never expected.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 61.—From an Artilleryman, to his wife at
-Sheerness:</i></h3>
-
-<p>I am the only one left out of my battery; we
-were blown to pieces by the enemy on Wednesday
-at Le Cateau. We have been out here twenty-eight
-days all told, and have been through the
-five engagements. I have nothing; only the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_144">144</a></span>
-jacket I stand up in—no boots or putties, as I
-was left for dead. But my horse was shot, and
-not me. He laid down on me. They had to
-cut my boots, etc., off to get me from under
-my horse.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 62.—From Lance-Corporal J. Preston, of
-the 2nd Battalion Inniskilling Fusiliers, to his
-wife at Banbridge:</i></h3>
-
-<p>I did not get hit at Mons. I got through it all
-right. We encountered the Germans on Sunday
-at Mons, and fought on till Monday night. It
-was on the retreat from Mons that I was caught.
-They had about one hundred guns playing on us
-all the time we were retiring. We had a battery
-of artillery with us. They were all blown to
-pieces, men and guns and all. It was a most
-sorrowful sight to see the guns wiped out, and
-the gunners and men lying around them. The
-whole plain was strewn with dead and wounded.
-I hope my eyes will never look on anything so
-horrid again. Our section brought in six prisoners,
-all wounded, and they told us we had slain
-hundreds of them. We captured a German spy;
-he was dressed in a Scotsman’s uniform, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_145">145</a></span>
-was knocking around our camp, but we were a
-bit too quick for him. I think the hardest battles
-are fought; the German cannot stand it much
-longer, his food supply is getting done.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 63.—From a Corporal in the Motor Cycle
-Section of the Royal Engineers:</i></h3>
-
-<p>Last night the enemy made an attempt to get
-through to our base in armed motors. Myself
-and two other motor-cyclists were sent out to
-look for them. It was a pitch-black night, with
-a thick fog. One of our men got in touch with
-them, and was pursued. He made for a bridge
-which had been mined by the engineers, and that
-was the end of the Germans.... The German
-artillery is rotten. Last Saturday three batteries
-bombarded an entrenched British battalion for
-two hours, and only seven men were killed.
-The noise was simply deafening, but so little
-effect had the fire that the men shouted with
-laughter, and held their caps up on the end of
-their rifles to give the German gunners a bit of
-encouragement.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_146">146</a></span>
-This is really the best summer holiday I have
-had for a long time.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 64.—From Corporal J. Bailey:</i></h3>
-
-<p>It’s very jolly in camp in spite of all the
-drawbacks of active service, and we have lively
-times when the Germans aren’t hanging around
-to pay their respects. It’s a fine sight to see
-us on the march, swinging along the roads as
-happy as schoolboys, and singing all the old
-songs we can think of. The tunes are sometimes
-a bit out, but nobody minds so long as we’re
-happy. As we pass through the villages the
-French come out to cheer us and bring us food
-and fruit. Cigarettes we get more of than we
-know what to do with. Some of them are
-rotten, so we save them for the German prisoners,
-who would smoke anything they can lay their
-hands on. Flowers also we get plenty of, and
-we are having the time of our lives.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_147">147</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 65.—From a Sergeant in the Royal Field
-Artillery:</i></h3>
-
-<p>If the French people were mad about us before
-we were on trial, they are absolutely crazy
-over us now when we have sort of justified our
-existence. In the towns we pass through we
-are received with so much demonstration that I
-fancy the French soldiers must be jealous. The
-people don’t seem to have eyes for anybody but
-us, and they do all they can to make us comfortable.
-They give us the best they can lay
-hold of, but that’s not much after the Germans
-have been around collaring all they could. It’s
-the spirit that means so much to us, and even
-though it was only an odd cup of water they
-brought us we would be grateful. Most of us
-are glad to feel that we are fighting for a nation
-worth fighting for, and after our experience there
-can be no question of trouble between us and
-France in the future.</p>
-
-<p>We lost terribly in the retreat from Mons, of
-which you have heard by now, but artillery
-always stands to lose in retreats, because we play
-such a big part in getting the other men away
-and we quite made up our minds that we would
-have to pay forfeit then. Without boasting, I
-can say that it was the way the guns were handled<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_148">148</a></span>
-that made it so easy for our lads to get out of
-the German trap. There was once or twice when
-it looked as though it were all up with us, and
-some of our chaps were fair down in the mouth
-over it; but I think now they didn’t make
-sufficient allowance for the steadiness of all arms
-of our service; and, between ourselves, I think
-they had got the usual notions about the splendid
-soldiering qualities of the German army. They
-know better now, and though it’s bad to get
-chesty about that sort of thing, we are all pretty
-confident that with a sporting chance we stand
-to win all the time.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 66.—From Private J. Toal:</i></h3>
-
-<p>It’s tired we all were when we got through
-that week of fighting and marching from Mons;
-but after we’d had a taste of rest for a day or
-two, by the saints, we were ready for the ugly
-Germans again, and we’ve been busy ever since
-drilling holes in them big enough to let out the
-bad that’s in them. You wouldn’t believe the
-way they have burned and destroyed the holy
-churches everywhere they went, and there’s<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_149">149</a></span>
-many an Irish lad betwixt here and the frontier
-has registered a vow that he will not rest content
-till he’s paid off that score against the men who
-would lay hands on God’s altars.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 67.—From Private W. Green:</i></h3>
-
-<p>We see more Germans than you could count
-in the day, but they are now very funky about it,
-and they will never wait for a personal interview
-with one of our men, especially if he has a lance
-or a bayonet handy, and naturally you don’t go
-out German-hunting without something of the
-kind with you, if only just for luck. When they
-must face us they usually get stuck away somewhere
-where they are protected by more guns
-than you ever set eyes on, and likewise crowds
-of machine guns of the Maxim pattern, mounted
-on motors. These are not now so troublesome,
-for they are easy to spot out in the open, and
-our marksmen quickly pick off the men serving
-them, so the Germans are getting a bit shy
-about displaying them. Something we heard the
-other day has put new life into us; not that
-we were downhearted before, but what I mean<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_150">150</a></span>
-shows that we are going to have all we wished
-for very soon, and though we can’t tell you more
-you may be sure that we are going on well.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 68.—From Private G. A. Turner, to his
-father, Mr. J. W. Turner, of Leeds</i> (<i>Published
-in the “Leeds Mercury”</i>):</h3>
-
-<p>I am still living, though a bit knocked about.
-I got a birthday present from the Kaiser. I
-was wounded on the 23rd. So it was a near
-thing, was it not? I got your letter at a place
-called Moroilles, in France, about five miles from
-Landrecies, where our troops have retired.</p>
-
-<p>On Sunday, 23rd, we had rifle inspection at
-11 a.m., and were ordered to fall in for bathing
-parade at 11.30. While we were waiting for
-another company to return from the river the
-Germans commenced to shell the town. We
-fell in about 1.0 p.m., an hour and a half afterwards,
-to go to the scene of the attack. Shells
-were bursting in the streets as we went. We
-crossed a bridge over the canal under artillery
-fire, and stood doing nothing behind a mill on
-the bank for some time.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_151">151</a></span>
-Then someone cried out that the Germans were
-advancing along the canal bank, and our company
-were ordered to go along. We thought we
-were going to check the Germans, but we found
-out afterwards that a company of our own regiment
-were in position further along on the opposite
-side of the canal, and we were being sent out to
-reinforce them.</p>
-
-<p>There was no means of crossing the canal at
-that point, so it was an impossibility. As soon
-as we started to move we were spotted by the
-Germans, who opened fire with their guns at about
-five hundred yards with shrapnel, and the scene
-that followed beggars description. Several of
-us were laid full length behind a wooden fence
-about half an inch thick. The German shells
-burst about three yards in front of it. It was
-blown to splinters in about ten minutes. None
-of us expected to get out alive.</p>
-
-<p>They kept us there about an hour before they
-gave us the word to retire. I had just turned
-round to go back when I stopped one. It hits
-you with an awful thump, and I thought it had
-caught me at the bottom of the spine, as it
-numbed my legs for about half an hour.</p>
-
-<p>When I found I could not walk I gave it up.
-Just after, I got my first view of the Germans.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_152">152</a></span>
-They were coming out of a wood about 400 yards
-away all in a heap together, so I thought as I
-was done for I would get a bit of my own back,
-and I started pumping a bit of lead into them.</p>
-
-<p>I stuck there for about three-quarters of an
-hour, and fired all my own ammunition and a lot
-belonging to two more wounded men who were
-close to me—about 300 rounds altogether, and
-as it was such a good target I guess I accounted
-for a good lot of them.</p>
-
-<p>Then I suddenly discovered I could walk,
-and so I set off to get back. I had to walk about
-150 yards in the open, with shrapnel bursting
-around me all the way, but somehow or other I
-got back without catching another. It was
-more than I expected, I can assure you, and I
-laughed when I got in the shelter of the mill
-again.</p>
-
-<p>I was very sorry to have to leave the other
-chaps who were wounded, but as I could only
-just limp along I could not help them in any way.
-They were brought in later by stretcher bearers.</p>
-
-<p>A man who was at Paardeburg and Magersfontein,
-in South Africa, said they were nothing
-to what we got that Sunday. Out of 240 men
-of my company only about twenty were uninjured.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_153">153</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 69.—From an Infantryman in hospital</i>
-(<i>Published in the “Aldershot News”</i>):</h3>
-
-<p>I found myself mixed up with a French
-regiment on the right. I wanted to go forward
-with them, but the officer in charge shook his
-head and smiled, “They will spot you in your
-khaki and put you out in no time,” he said in
-English; “make your way to the left; you’ll
-find your fellows on that hill.” I watched the
-regiment till it disappeared; then I made my
-way across a field and up a big avenue of trees.
-The shells were whistling overhead, but there
-was nothing to be afraid of. Halfway up the
-avenue there was a German lancer officer lying
-dead by the side of the road. How he got there
-was a mystery, because we had seen no cavalry.
-But there he lay, and someone had crossed his
-hands on his breast, and put a little celluloid
-crucifix in his hands. Over his face was a beautiful
-little handkerchief—a lady’s—with lace
-edging. It was a bit of a mystery, because there
-wasn’t a lady for miles that I knew of.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_154">154</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 70.—From Sapper H. Mugridge, R.E., to
-his mother at Uckfield:</i></h3>
-
-<p>We met the Germans at Landrecies on Sunday.
-We had a fifteen-hour battle. It was
-terrible. There were 120,000 Germans and only
-20,000 of us, but our men fought well. We blew
-up six bridges. Laid our charges in the afternoon,
-and the whole time we were doing it were not
-hit. After we had got everything ready we got
-back into cover and waited until 1.30 on Monday
-morning, until our troops had got back over the
-river, and then we blew up the bridges. We
-retired about thirty miles. The town where we
-stopped on Sunday was a beautiful place, but the
-Germans destroyed it. Close to where I was a
-church had been used as a hospital, and our
-wounded were coming by the dozens. But,
-terrible to say, the Germans blew the place up.
-They have no pity. They kill our wounded and
-drive the people before them.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_155">155</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 71.—From Sapper H. Mugridge, R.E.</i>
-(<i>Second letter, published in the “Sussex Daily
-News”</i>):</h3>
-
-<p>We were laying our gun cotton—ten of us
-were the last to leave, and the Germans stopped
-us. We had to run for it down the main street
-of the town of Landrecies, and, being dark, we
-could not see where we were going. We got
-caught in some telegraph wires which had been
-put across the street. We had to cut them away
-with our bayonets. On Monday morning, when
-things were quieter, we went nearly into the
-German lines. We could hear them giving orders.
-Our job was to put barbed wire across the road.
-I was thankful to get out of it. We could see
-the Germans burning their dead. They must
-have lost a few thousand men, as our troops
-simply mowed them down.</p>
-
-<p>I saw one sergeant kill fourteen Germans, one
-after the other. They came up in fifties, all in a
-cluster, and you couldn’t help hitting them.
-They were only 400 yards from us all day on
-Sunday. They are very cruel. Our people used
-a church for a hospital, and it was filled with our
-wounded, but the place was shelled and knocked
-down. They stabbed a good many of our men
-while lying on the battlefield. They have no<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_156">156</a></span>
-respect for the Red Cross. To see women and
-children driven from home and walking the roads
-is terrible—old men and women just the same.
-At the town where we were we got cut off from
-our people—eighteen of us—and the houses were
-being toppled over by the German artillery.
-The people clung around us, asking us to stay
-with them, but it was no good. When we left,
-the town was in flames. But our men did fight
-well. You never saw anything so cool in your
-life. Anyone would have thought it was a football
-match, for they were joking and laughing
-with one another.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 72.—From John Baker, of the Royal Flying
-Corps, to his parents at Boston, Lincolnshire:</i></h3>
-
-<p>While flying over Boulogne at a height of
-3,000 feet, something went wrong with the
-machine, and the engine stopped. The officer
-said, “Baker, our time has come. Be brave,
-and die like a man. Good-bye,” and shook hands
-with me. I shall always remember the ten
-minutes that followed. The next I remembered
-was that I was in a barn. I was removed to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_157">157</a></span>
-Boulogne, and afterwards to Netheravon, being
-conveyed from Southampton by motor ambulance.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 73.—From Private G. Rider:</i></h3>
-
-<p>The Germans are good and bad as fighters,
-but mostly bad so far as I have seen. They are
-nearly all long distance champions in the fighting
-line, and won’t come too near unless they are
-made to. Yesterday we had a whole day of it
-in the trenches, with the Germans firing away
-at us all the time. It began just after breakfast,
-and we were without food of any kind until we
-had what you might call a dainty afternoon tea
-in the trenches under shell fire. The mugs were
-passed round with the biscuits and the “bully”
-as best they could by the mess orderlies, but it
-was hard work getting through without getting
-more than we wanted of lead rations. My next-door
-neighbour, so to speak, got a shrapnel bullet
-in his tin mug, and another two doors off had
-his biscuit shot out of his hand when he was fool
-enough to hold it up to show it to a chum in the
-next trench.</p>
-
-<p>We are ready for anything that comes our<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_158">158</a></span>
-way, and nothing would please us better than a
-good big stand-up fight with the Germans on any
-ground they please. We are all getting used to
-the hard work of active service, and you very
-seldom hear complaints from anybody. The
-grousers, who are to be found in nearly every
-regiment, seem to be on holiday for the war.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 74.—From Private Martin O’Keefe, of the
-Royal Irish Rifles, to his friends at Belfast:</i></h3>
-
-<p>Our part in the fighting was limited almost
-entirely to covering the retreat by a steady rifle
-fire from hastily-prepared trenches. We were
-thrown out along an extended front, and instructed
-to hold our ground until the retiring
-troops were signalled safe in the next position
-allotted them. When this was done our turn
-came, and we retired to a new position, our place
-being taken by the light cavalry, who kept the
-Germans in check as long as they could and then
-fell back in their turn. The Germans made some
-rather tricky moves in the hope of cutting us off
-while we were on this dangerous duty, but our
-flanks were protected by cavalry, French and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_159">159</a></span>
-English, and they did not get very far without
-having to fight. When they found the slightest
-show of resistance they retreated, and tried to
-find an easier way of getting in at us. The staff
-were well pleased with the way we carried out the
-duty given to us, and we were told that it had
-saved our Army from very serious loss at one
-critical point. We put in some wonderfully
-effective shooting in the trenches, and the men
-find it is much easier making good hits on active
-service than at manœuvres. The Germans seemed
-to think at first that we were as poor shots as they
-are, and they were awfully sick when they had to
-face our deadly fire for the first time.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 75.—From Sergeant W. Holmes:</i></h3>
-
-<p>We are off again, this time with some of the
-French, and it’s enough to give you fits to hear
-the Frenchmen trying to pick up the words of
-“Cheer Boys, Cheer,” which we sing with great go
-on the march. They haven’t any notion of what
-the words mean, but they can tell from our manner
-that they mean we’re in good heart, and that’s
-infectious here. We lost our colonel and four<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_160">160</a></span>
-other officers in our fight on Tuesday. It was
-the hottest thing we were ever in. The colonel
-was struck down when he was giving us the last
-word of advice before we threw ourselves on the
-enemy. We avenged him in fine style. His loss
-was a great blow to us, for he was very popular.
-It’s always the best officers, somehow, that get
-hit the first, and there’s not a man in the regiment
-who wouldn’t have given his life for him. He
-was keen on discipline, but soldiers don’t think
-any less of officers who are that. The German
-officers are a rum lot. They don’t seem in too
-great a hurry to expose their precious carcasses,
-and so they “lead” from the rear all the time.
-We see to it that they don’t benefit much by that,
-you may be sure, and when it’s at all possible we
-shoot at the skulking officers. That probably
-accounts for the high death rate among German
-officers. They seem terribly keen on pushing
-their men forward into posts of danger, but they
-are not so keen in leading the way, except in
-retreat, when they are well to the fore. Our
-cavalry are up to that little dodge, and so, when
-they are riding out to intercept retreating
-Germans, they always give special attention to the
-officers.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_161">161</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 76.—From Corporal J. Hammersley:</i></h3>
-
-<p>The Germans in front of us are about done
-for, and that’s the truth of it. They have got
-about as much fighting as humans can stand,
-and it is about time they realised it. I don’t
-agree with those who think this war is going to
-last for a long time. The pace we go at on both
-sides is too hot, and flesh and blood won’t stand
-it for long. My impression is that there will be a
-sudden collapse of the Germans that will astonish
-everybody at home; but we are not leaving
-much to chance, and we do all we can to hasten
-the collapse. The Germans aren’t really cut
-out for this sort of work. They are proper
-bullies, who get on finely when everybody’s
-lying bleeding at their feet, but they can’t
-manage at all when they have to stand up to men
-who can give them more than they bargain for.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 77.—From Lance-Corporal T. Williams:</i></h3>
-
-<p>We are now getting into our stride and
-beginning to get a little of our own back out of
-the Germans. They don’t like it at all now
-that we are nearer to them in numbers, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_162">162</a></span>
-their men all look like so many “Weary Willies”;
-they are so tired. You might say they have got
-“that tired feeling” bad, and so they have.
-Some of them just drop into our arms when we
-call on them to surrender as though it were the
-thing they’d been waiting for all their lives.</p>
-
-<p>One chap who knows a little English told
-us he was never more pleased to see the English
-uniform in all his life before, for he was about fed
-up with marching and fighting in the inhuman
-way the German officers expect their men to go
-on. When we took him to camp he lay down
-and slept like a log for hours; he was so done
-up.</p>
-
-<p>That’s typical of the Germans now, and it
-looks as though the Kaiser were going to have
-to pay a big price for taxing his men so terribly.
-You can’t help being sorry for the poor fellows.
-They all say they were told when setting out
-that it would be child’s play beating us, as our
-army was the poorest stuff in the world. Those
-who had had experience in England didn’t take
-that in altogether, but the country yokels and
-those who had never been outside their own
-towns believed it until they had a taste of our
-fighting quality, and then they laughed with the
-other side of their faces.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_163">163</a></span>
-That’s the Germans all over, to “kid” themselves
-into the belief that they have got a soft
-thing, and then when they find it’s too hard, to
-run away from it. Our lads have made up their
-minds to give them no rest once we get on to
-them, and they’ll get as much of the British
-Army as they can stand, and maybe a little more.
-The French are greatly pleased with the show
-we made in the field, and are in much better
-spirits than they were.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 78.—From a Non-commissioned Officer of
-Dragoons:</i></h3>
-
-<p>All our men—in fact, the whole British Army—are
-as fit as a fiddle, and the lads are as keen
-as mustard. There is no holding them back.
-At Mons we were under General Chetwode, and
-horses and men positively flew at the Germans,
-cutting through much heavier mounts and heavier
-men than ours. The yelling and the dash of the
-Lancers and Dragoon Guards was a thing never
-to be forgotten. We lost very heavily at Mons,
-and it is a marvel how some of our fellows pulled
-through and positively frightened the enemy.
-We did some terrible execution, and our wrists<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_164">164</a></span>
-were feeling the strain of heavy riding before
-sunset. With our tunics unbuttoned, we had
-the full use of our right arm for attack and
-defence.</p>
-
-<p>After Mons I went with a small party scouting,
-and we again engaged about twenty cavalry,
-cut off from their main body. We killed nine,
-wounded six, and gave chase to the remaining
-five, who, in rejoining their unit, nearly were
-the means of trapping us. However, our men
-dispersed and hid in a wood until they fell in with
-a squadron of the ——, and so reached camp in
-safety. After that a smart young corporal
-accompanied me to reconnoitre, and we went
-too far ahead, and were cut off in a part of the
-country thick with Uhlans. As we rode in the
-direction of —— two wounded men were limping
-along, both with legs damaged, one from the
-Middlesex and the other Lancashire Fusiliers,
-and so we took them up.</p>
-
-<p>Corporal Watherston took one behind his
-saddle and I took the other. The men were
-hungry, and tattered to shreds with fighting, but
-in fine spirits. We soon came across a small
-village, and I found the curé a grand sportsman
-and full of pluck and hospitality. He seemed
-charmed to find a friend who was English, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_165">165</a></span>
-told me that the Germans were dressed in the
-uniforms of British soldiers, which they took
-from the dead and from prisoners in order to
-deceive French villagers, who in many places
-in that district had welcomed these wolves in
-sheep’s clothing. We were warned that the
-enemy would be sure to track us up to the village.
-The curé said he could hide the two wounded men
-in the crypt of his church and put up beds for
-them. It has a secret trapdoor, and was an
-ancient treasure-house of a feudal lord, whose
-castle we saw in ruins at the top of the hill close by.</p>
-
-<p>Then he hid away our saddlery and uniforms
-in the roof of a barn, and insisted upon our making
-a rest-chamber of the tower of his church, which
-was approached by a ladder, which we were to
-pull up to the belfry as soon as we got there.
-He smuggled in wine and meat and bread and
-cakes, fruit and cigarettes, with plenty of bedding
-pulled up by a rope. We slept soundly, and the
-owls seemed the only other tenants, who resented
-our intrusion. No troops passed through the
-village that night. In the morning the curé
-came round at six o’clock, and we heard him say
-Mass. After that we let down the ladder, and
-he came up with delicious hot chocolate and a
-basket of rolls and butter.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_166">166</a></span>
-Our horses he had placed in different stables
-a mile apart, and put French “fittings” on them,
-so as to deceive the enemy. He thinks we are
-well away from the main body of the German
-army moving in the direction of Paris, but will
-not hear of our leaving here for at least three days.
-But I cried, “Curé, we are deserters!” The old
-man wept and said, “Deserters, no, no—saviours,
-saviours; you have rescued France from the
-torments of slavery.”</p>
-
-<p>However, we have now secured complete
-disguises as French cultivateurs—baggy corderoy
-trousers, blue shirts, boots, stockings, belt, hat,
-cravat, everything to match—and as we have not
-shaved for two weeks, and are bronzed with the
-sun, I think that the corporal and myself can pass
-anywhere as French peasants, if only he will
-leave all the talking to me.</p>
-
-<p>The two wounded soldiers don’t wish us to
-leave them, because I am interpreter, and not a
-soul speaks English in the village. So we have
-explained to the curé that we shall stay here until
-our comrades are able to walk, and then the party
-of four will push our way out somewhere on horseback
-and get to the coast. The sacristan at once
-offered to be our guide, and it is arranged that
-we take a carrier’s wagon which travels in this<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_167">167</a></span>
-district and drive our own horses in it, and pick
-up two additional mounts at a larger village on
-the way to the coast.</p>
-
-<p>We must get back as soon as ever we can.
-Nothing could be kinder than the people here,
-but this is not what we came to France for, and
-hanging about in a French village is not exactly
-what a soldier calls “cricket.”</p>
-
-<p>You cannot imagine how complete the
-Germans are in the matter of rapid transport.
-Large automobiles, such as the railway companies
-have for towns round Harrogate and Scarborough,
-built like char-à-bancs, carry the soldiers in
-batches of fifty, so that they are as fresh as paint
-when they get to the front. But in point of
-numbers I think one of our side is a fair match
-for four of the enemy. I hope that the British
-public are beginning to understand what this
-war means. The German is not a toy terrier,
-but a bloodhound absolutely thirsty for blood.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 79.—From Private Tom Savage, to his
-relatives at Larne:</i></h3>
-
-<p class="sigright">At Sea.</p>
-
-<p>Just a line to let you know that we are
-landing outside ——. They kept us without<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_168">168</a></span>
-any knowledge of how and where we were going
-till the last moment. I am quite well and extra
-specially fit. It is good fun on a troopship,
-and we are going to have a nice little holiday
-on the Continent. I’ll be able to “swank French”
-when I come back. I’ll write a good long letter
-when I settle down. I’m writing this at tea time
-just before we land. I have got two very nice
-chums, Jack Wright, the footballer, who has
-seen service before, and Billy Caughey, both of
-Belfast.</p>
-
-<p class="p1 sigright">In France.</p>
-
-<p>I am writing this note while on outpost
-duty. I can’t say where we are, or anything
-like that, but I am in the best of health and
-enjoying the life. I am getting a fine hand at
-French. There is plenty of food and the people
-are all very nice. It’s great fun trying to understand
-them. Plenty of fruit here, pears and
-apples galore, and as for bread big long rolls and
-rings of it, and all very cheap. When you happen
-to be riding through a town the people give you
-cigarettes, fruit, chocolates, and cider.</p>
-
-<p>If you are all extra good I’ll bring you home
-a pet German. How is Home Rule getting on?
-Send me a paper, but I don’t know when I’ll
-get it or you’ll get this. I suppose the papers are<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_169">169</a></span>
-full of this ruction. I can write no more as I’ll
-soon have to go on guard.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 80.—From Mons. E. Hovelange, of Paris,
-written on August 30th, to Sir William Collins</i>
-(<cite>Published in the “Sussex Daily News”</cite>):</h3>
-
-<p>How serious the situation is here it is hard
-for you to realize in London. We may be encircled
-at any moment by these hordes of savages.
-Such murderous cruelty has never been seen in
-the annals of war. The Turks and the Bulgarians
-were no worse. It is the rule to fire on ambulances
-and slaughter the wounded. I know it from eye-witnesses.
-The Germans are drunk with savagery.
-It is an orgy of the basest cruelty. They are
-rushing Paris at all costs, squandering their men
-recklessly in overwhelming numbers. Our troops
-are submerged and can only retreat, fighting
-desperately, but the spirit of our soldiers is
-splendid. All the wounded I have seen laugh
-and joke over their wounds and are burning to
-have another go at the barbarians. Victory is
-certain. But what disastrous changes shall we
-know before it comes. I am prepared for the
-worst—another month of hopeless struggle<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_170">170</a></span>
-perhaps. But we will light to the last man. The
-tide will turn, and then—woe to them. I know
-you will stand by us in the cause of civilization,
-common honest truth till the bitter end. But
-if you want to help us you must hasten.</p>
-
-<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
-
-<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 81.—From a young officer who has been
-through the whole campaign, from the landing
-of the British at Boulogne:</i></h3>
-
-<p>I wish you would try to make the people
-in England understand that they should be
-most exceedingly thankful that they are living
-on an island and not in the midst of the
-dreadful things which are happening on the Continent.
-Do enforce upon the public that England
-must fight this thing out, and must conquer
-even if it has to spend the blood of its young men
-like water. It will be far better that every family
-throughout England should have to sorrow for
-one of its members than that England should
-have to go through similar ordeals to those which
-Continental countries are suffering.</p>
-
-<p>The sight of old women and men fleeing
-from village to village; young mothers with
-babies in arms, with their few personal effects<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_171">171</a></span>
-on their backs, or in some more fortunate cases
-with their goods and chattels surrounding the
-aged grandmother stowed away in an old farm
-cart, drawn by a nag too venerable to be of
-service to the State; this is what one has seen
-daily. Picture to yourself our night marches
-with the burning villages on all sides set fire
-to by German shells—and the Germans have
-been rather careless whether their shells struck
-fortified and defended positions, or open ones.
-In some cases the fires were caused intentionally
-by marauding patrols.</p>
-
-<p>Do not imagine that things are not going
-well with us. We are all satisfied and confident
-of the end; but at the same time the only possible
-end can be gained by sacrifice on the part
-of those at home only. All is well with me
-personally; I have a busy time, but it is most
-interesting work.</p>
-
-<h3>IN HOSPITAL.</h3>
-
-<p class="in0">(1) <i>At Salisbury.</i></p>
-
-<p class="p1">A non-commissioned officer of the Royal Field
-Artillery, invalided home with shrapnel wounds
-in the thigh, from which he hopes soon to recover,
-has given this vivid description of his<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_172">172</a></span>
-experiences at the front after passing north of
-Amiens, to a <cite>Daily Telegraph</cite> correspondent:</p>
-
-<p class="p2">Pushing forward from our rest camp, covering
-from twenty to thirty miles a day, with the
-infantry marching in front and cavalry protecting
-us on either flank, we received information
-that we were within a few hours’ march of
-the enemy. Needless to say, this put us on
-the alert. There was no funk about us, for we
-were all anxious to have a go at the Germans,
-about whom we had heard such tales of cruelty
-that it made our blood run cold.</p>
-
-<p>Our orders were to load with case shot, for
-fear of cavalry attack, as shrapnel is of little
-use against mounted troops. The order was
-soon obeyed, and after passing the day on the
-road, we moved across country north of ——,
-where the infantry took up a strong position.
-We saw the French troops on our right as we
-moved up to gun positions which our battery
-commanders had selected in advance. It was
-Sunday morning when the attack came, and the
-sun had already lit up the beautiful country,
-and as I looked across at the villages which
-lay below in the valley with their silent belfries
-I thought of my home on the Cotswolds and of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_173">173</a></span>
-the bells ringing for morning service. I pictured
-dad and my sister Nell going to church.</p>
-
-<p>It was, however, no time for sentiment, for
-gallopers soon brought the news that the enemy
-was advancing, and that a cavalry attack might
-be expected at any moment. Infantry had
-entrenched themselves along our front, and
-there was a strong body posted on our flanks
-and rear. These became engaged first with a
-large body of Uhlans, who endeavoured to take
-them by surprise, the front rank rushing forward
-with the lance and the rear using the sword.</p>
-
-<p>We were on slightly higher ground, and
-could see the combat, which appeared to be
-going in our favour. Our men stuck to their
-ground and shot and bayonetted the Uhlans, who,
-after ten minutes’ fight, made off, but, sad to
-say, a dreadful fusilade of shrapnel and Maxim
-fire followed immediately, and our guns also
-came under fire. To this we readily replied,
-and must have done some execution, especially
-to the large masses of infantry that were advancing
-about a mile away.</p>
-
-<p>We got a favourable “bracket” at once, so
-our Major said, and we worked our guns for all
-we were worth, altering fuses and the ranging
-of our guns as the Germans came nearer. Shells<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_174">174</a></span>
-fell fast around us, some ricocheted, and passed
-overhead without bursting, ploughing the ground
-up in our rear, but not a few exploded, and made
-many casualties. Three of my gun detachment
-fell with shrapnel bullets, but still we kept the
-guns going, the officers giving a hand.</p>
-
-<p>At one time we came under the fire of the
-enemy’s machine guns, but two of our 18-pounders
-put them out of action after a few rounds. The
-order came at length to retire so as to get a more
-favourable position, but our drivers failed to
-bring back all the gun teams, only sufficient to
-horse four of the guns. The remainder of the
-animals had been terribly mutilated. These
-were limbered up, the remainder being for a time
-protected by the infantry. The Gordons and
-Middlesex were in the shelter trenches on our
-left, and the latter regiment was said at one
-time to be almost overwhelmed, but aid came,
-and the masses of Prussian infantry were beaten
-off.</p>
-
-<p>Still, there was terrible slaughter on both
-sides, and the dead lay in long burrows on the
-turf. We should have lost our guns to the
-Uhlans if the infantry had not persevered with
-the rifle, picking off the cavalry at 800 yards.</p>
-
-<p>It was grand shooting. In the afternoon<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_175">175</a></span>
-we slackened fire, as also did the Germans; in
-fact, we did but little from our new gun positions,
-as we were destined to cover the retreat of the
-infantry later on.</p>
-
-<p>As the wounded were brought to the rear
-we heard of the deeds of heroism from the men
-of the Royal Army Medical Corps in the fighting
-line—how an officer stood over the body of a
-private who had previously saved his life until
-he had spent his last shot from his revolver, and
-then fell seriously wounded, to be avenged the
-next moment by a burly sergeant who plunged
-his bayonet into the Prussian.</p>
-
-<p>In the ranks of the South Lancashire Regiment,
-from what has been heard, many deserve
-the Distinguished Conduct Medal, if not the
-V.C., for the manner in which they charged
-masses of German infantry through the village
-to our front. Uhlans got round behind them,
-but they did not flinch, although serious gaps
-were made in their ranks.</p>
-
-<p>A non-commissioned officer of the Medicals
-related how he saw a party of Fusiliers rush to
-the aid of their Maxim gun party when Uhlans
-swept down on them from behind a wood. They
-accounted for over twenty and lost but one man.</p>
-
-<p>At night we were ordered to move on again,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_176">176</a></span>
-and we marched south-west in the direction of
-——, covering twenty miles in the darkness.
-Our unhorsed guns were got through by splitting
-up our teams, and with the help of the
-brawny arms of the infantry.</p>
-
-<p>The enemy were aware of our retreat, and
-kept up an incessant fire, bringing searchlights
-to the aid of their gunners. The moon slightly
-favoured us, and, with the help of local guides,
-we found our way. I heard of the brilliant work
-performed by our battalions, who kept the enemy
-at bay whilst we withdrew all our vehicles, and
-we gunners felt proud of them. They kept the
-enemy busy by counter-attack, and made it
-impossible to get round us.</p>
-
-<p>Next morning the enemy were again in the
-field endeavouring to force our left flank. Field-Marshal
-Sir John French, whom we saw early in
-the day, was, however, equal to the occasion, and
-so manœuvred his troops that we occupied a
-position from which the Germans could not
-dislodge us. The artillery kept up long-range
-fire, and that is how I received my wound.
-Within a few minutes first aid was rendered, and
-I was put in an ambulance and taken off with
-other wounded to a field hospital, where I met
-with every attention.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_177">177</a></span></p>
-
-<h3>IN HOSPITAL.</h3>
-
-<p class="in0">(2) <i>At the London Hospital.</i></p>
-
-<p>By a <cite>Daily Telegraph</cite> correspondent.</p>
-
-<p class="p1">A description of a thrilling fight in the air,
-which had a dramatic climax, was given to
-Queen Alexandra when her Majesty paid a visit
-to the London Hospital.</p>
-
-<p>Among the wounded soldiers there is a private
-of the Royal Engineers, who was himself witness
-of the incident.</p>
-
-<p>He said that following a very hard fight on
-the day before, he was lying on the ground with
-his regiment, resting. Suddenly a German
-aeroplane hove in sight. It flew right over the
-British troops, and commenced to signal their
-position to the German camp.</p>
-
-<p>A minute later, amid intense excitement of
-the troops, two aeroplanes, with English and
-French pilots, rose into the air from the British
-rear. Ascending with great rapidity, they made
-for the German aeroplane, with the intention of
-attacking it.</p>
-
-<p>At first some of our men, who were very much
-on the alert, fired by mistake at the French
-aeroplane. Luckily, their shots went wide.</p>
-
-<p>Then the troops lay still, and with breathless<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_178">178</a></span>
-interest watched the attempts of the French
-and British aviators to outmanœuvre their
-opponent, and to cut off his retreat. After a
-little time the Franco-British airmen abandoned
-this attempt, and then the Englishman and the
-German began to fly upwards, in the evident
-desire to obtain a more favourable position for
-shooting down from above. Owing to the
-protection afforded by the machine, it would have
-been of little use for one aviator to fire at his
-opponent from below. Once a higher altitude
-was attained, the opportunity for effective aim
-would be much greater.</p>
-
-<p>Up and up circled the two airmen, till their
-machines could barely be distinguished from
-the ground. They were almost out of sight
-when the soldiers saw that the British aviator
-was above his opponent. Then the faint sound
-of a shot came down from the sky, and instantly
-the German aeroplane began to descend, vol-planing
-in graceful fashion. Apparently it was
-under the most perfect control. On reaching
-the earth the machine landed with no great
-shock, ran a short distance along the ground, and
-then stopped.</p>
-
-<p>Rushing to the spot, the British soldiers found,
-to their amazement, that the pilot was dead.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_179">179</a></span>
-So fortunate had been the aim of the Englishman
-that he had shot the German through the head.
-In his dying moments the latter had started to
-descend, and when he reached the earth his hands
-still firmly gripped the controls.</p>
-
-<p>The aeroplane was absolutely undamaged, and
-was appropriated by the British aviators.</p>
-
-<h3>IN HOSPITAL.</h3>
-
-<p class="in0 hang">(3) <cite>From a “Daily Telegraph” correspondent at Rouen</cite>:</p>
-
-<p class="p1">It was known that there were British wounded
-in Rouen—I had even spoken to one of them in
-the streets—but how was one to see them?
-The police commissaire sent me to his central
-colleague, who sent me on to the état major, who
-was anxious to send me back to him, but finally
-suggested that I should see the military commissary
-at one of the stations. He was courteous,
-but very firm—the authorisation I asked for
-could not be, and was not, granted to anyone.
-At the headquarters of the British General Staff
-the same answer in even less ambiguous terms.</p>
-
-<p>It was then that Privates X., Y., Z. came to
-my aid. Private Z. had a request to make of me.
-It was that I should see to it that the black
-retriever of his regiment now at the front should<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_180">180</a></span>
-be photographed, and that the photograph should
-appear in <cite>The Daily Telegraph</cite>. Private Z. had
-a temperature of 102·5, and looked it, but he was
-not worrying about that. He was worrying
-about the photograph of the regimental retriever,
-which I understood him to say, though dates
-make it almost incredible, had gone through the
-Boer campaign, and had not yet had his photograph
-in the papers. So I met by appointment
-Privates X., Y., and Z. outside the Hospice
-Général of Rouen, and by them was franked in
-to the hospital, where a few dozen of our wounded
-were sunning themselves. It was just time, and
-no more, as orders had been received a few
-minutes before that the British wounded were
-to be transferred from Rouen to London, for
-something grave was afoot.</p>
-
-<p>“Do you want to get back to England?”
-someone called out to a soldier whose arm was
-in a sling, and the whole sleeve of whose jacket
-had been ripped by the fragment of a shell.</p>
-
-<p>“Not I,” he shouted; “I want to go to the
-front again and get my sleeve back, and something
-more.”</p>
-
-<p>I managed to speak with two or three of the
-wounded as they were getting ready for the
-start. One of them, an artilleryman, had been<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_181">181</a></span>
-injured by his horses falling on him at Ligny,
-I guessed it was—only guessed, for Tommy
-charges a French word as bravely and much less
-successfully than he charges the enemy. It was
-the same story that one hears from all, of a heroic
-struggle against overwhelming odds. “They
-were ten to one against us, in my opinion,” he
-said. “They were all over us. Their artillery
-found the range by means of aeroplanes. The
-shell fire was terrible.”</p>
-
-<p>He says that it was very accurate, but that
-fortunately the quality of the shells is not up
-to that of the shooting. My informant’s division
-held out for twenty-four hours against the overwhelming
-odds. Then, when the Germans had
-managed to get a battery into action behind,
-they retired during the night of Wednesday,
-steadily and in excellent order, keeping the
-German pursuit at bay. The next man I spoke
-to really spoke to me. He was anxious to tell his
-story.</p>
-
-<p>“I have been in the thick of it,” he said; “in
-the very thick of it. I was one of the chauffeurs
-in the service of the British General Staff.”</p>
-
-<p>He told me that he was not a Regular soldier,
-but a volunteer from the Automobile Club, an
-American who had become a naturalised English<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_182">182</a></span>
-citizen, and had once been a journalist. His own
-injury, a burnt arm, was from a back-fire, but
-his escape from the German bullets had been
-almost miraculous. Three staff officers, one after
-another, had been hit in the body of the car behind
-him. This is his story:</p>
-
-<p>“On Friday, the 25th, the British were just
-outside Le Cateau. On Saturday morning the
-approach of the Germans in force was signalled.
-On Sunday morning at daybreak a German
-aeroplane flew over our lines, and, although fired
-at by the aeroplane gun mounted in the car, and
-received with volleys from the troops, managed
-to rejoin its lines. Twenty minutes later the
-German artillery opened fire with accuracy.
-The aeroplane, as so often, had done its work
-as range-finder. For twelve hours the cannonade
-went on. Then the British forces retreated six
-miles. On Monday morning the bombardment
-began again, and at two that afternoon the German
-forces entered Le Cateau from which the English
-had retired. Many of the houses were in flames.
-The Germans, who had ruthlessly bayonetted
-our wounded if they moved so much as a finger
-as they lay on the ground, were guilty of brutal
-conduct when they entered the city.</p>
-
-<p>“On Tuesday, the British, who had retired to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_183">183</a></span>
-Landrecies, were again attacked by the Germans.
-They believed, wrongly, that on their right was
-a supporting French force. The range was again
-found by aeroplane, and the British were compelled
-to evacuate. That was on Tuesday. The
-British troops had been fighting steadily for four
-days, but their morale and their spirits had not
-suffered.”</p>
-
-<p>As I write, a detachment of the R.A.M.C. is
-filing past, and people have risen from their chairs
-and are cheering and saluting. Half an hour ago
-Engineers passed with their pontoons decorated
-with flowers and greenery. The men had flowers
-in their caps, and even the horses were flower-decked.
-Tommy Atkins has the completest
-faith in his leaders and in himself. He quite
-realises the necessity for secrecy of operations in
-modern warfare. Of course, he has his own
-theories. This is one of them textually:</p>
-
-<p>“The Germans are simply walking into it.
-Of course, we have had losses, but that was
-part of the plan—the sprat to catch the whale.
-They are going to find themselves in a square
-between four allied armies, and then,”—so far
-Private X., but here Private Y. broke in cheerfully:
-“And then they will be electrocuted.”</p>
-
-<p class="p2">And at this moment it begins to look as if—apart<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_184">184</a></span>
-from that detail of the square of four
-armies—Privates X. and Y. had known what
-they were talking about; for some few days
-ago the great retreat came to an abrupt end,
-the British and French forces carrying out
-General Joffre’s carefully laid plan of campaign,
-turned their defensive movement into a combined
-attack, the Germans fell back before them
-and are still retiring. They marched through
-Belgium into France with heavy fighting and
-appalling losses, only to be held in check at the
-right place and time and beaten back by the
-road they had come, when Paris seemed almost
-at their mercy. But that retirement is another
-story.</p>
-
-<hr />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_185">185</a></span></p>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2 class="vspace"><a id="VI"></a>VI<br />
-
-<span class="subhead"><span class="smcap">The Spirit of Victory</span></span></h2>
-</div>
-
-<div class="poem-container">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="iq">“<i>He only knows that not through</i> <span class="smcap smaller">HIM</span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0"><i>Shall England come to shame</i>.”<br /></span>
-</div>
-
-<div class="attrib"><span class="smcap">Sir F. H. Doyle.</span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>Even through those three weeks when they
-were retreating before the enemy, the whole spirit
-of the British troops was the spirit of men who
-are fighting to win. There is no hint of doubt or
-despondency in any of their letters home. They
-talk lightly of their hardest, most terrible experiences;
-they greet the unseen with a cheer;
-you hear of them cracking jokes, boyishly guying
-each other, singing songs as they march and as
-they lie in the trenches with shells bursting and
-shots screaming close over their heads. They
-carried out their retreats grudgingly, but without
-dismay, in the fixed confidence that their leaders
-knew what they were after, and that in due time
-they would find they had only been stooping to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_186">186</a></span>
-conquer. “They won’t let us have a fair smack
-at them,” says “Spratty,” of the Army Service
-Corps, in a letter home. “I have never seen
-such a sight before. God knows whose turn is
-next, but we shall win, don’t worry.” This is
-the watchword of them all: “Don’t worry—we
-shall win.”</p>
-
-<p>“Wine is offered us instead of water by the
-people,” wrote Private S. Browne, whilst his
-regiment was marching through France to the
-front; “but officers and men are refusing it.
-Some of the hardest drinkers in the regiment
-have signed the pledge for the war.”</p>
-
-<p>“Tommy goes into battle,” a French soldier
-told a reporter at Dieppe, “singing some song
-about Tip-Tip-Tip-Tipperary, and when he is
-hit he does not cry out. He just says ‘blast,’
-and if the wound is a small one he asks the man
-next to him to tie a tourniquet round it and settles
-down to fighting again.” A corporal of the Black
-Watch explained to a hospital visitor, “It was
-a terrible bit of work. The Germans were as
-thick as Hielan’ heather, and by sheer weight
-forced us back step by step. But until the
-order came not a living man flinched. In the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_187">187</a></span>
-thick of the bursting shells we were singing Harry
-Lauder’s latest.”</p>
-
-<p>Trooper George Pritchard wrote to his mother
-from Netley Hospital the other day: “I got hit
-in the arm from a shell. Seven of our officers
-got killed last Thursday, but Captain Grenfell
-was saved at the same time as me. What do
-you think of the charge of the 9th? It is
-worth getting hit for.”</p>
-
-<p>“We are all in good heart, and ready for the
-next round whenever it may come,” writes
-Private J. Scott, from his place in the field;
-and “South Africa was child’s play to what we
-have been through,” writes Corporal Brogan,
-“but we are beginning to feel our feet now,
-and are equal to a lot more gruelling.”</p>
-
-<p>“We are all beat up after four days of the
-hardest soldiering you ever dreamt of,” Private
-Patrick McGlade says in a letter to his mother.
-“I am glad to say we accounted for our share of
-the Germans. We tried hard to get at them
-many a time, but they never would wait for us
-when they saw the bright bits of steel at the
-business end of our rifles. Some of them squeal
-like the pigs on killing day when they see the
-steel ready. Some of our finest lads are now<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_188">188</a></span>
-sleeping their last sleep in Belgium, but, mother
-dear, you can take your son’s word for it that
-for every son of Ireland who will never come back
-there are at least three Germans who will never
-be heard of again. When we got here we sang
-‘Paddies Evermore,’ and then we were off to
-chapel to pray for the souls of the lads that are
-gone.”</p>
-
-<p>“Some of us feel very strongly about being
-sent home for scratches that will heal,” writes
-Corporal A. Hands. “Don’t believe half the
-stories about our hardships. I haven’t seen or
-heard of a man who made complaint of anything.
-You can’t expect a six-course dinner on active
-service, but we get plenty to fight on.”</p>
-
-<p>Cases of personal pluck were so common that
-we soon ceased to take notice of them, a wounded
-driver in the Royal Artillery told an interviewer.
-“There was a man of the Buffs, who carried a
-wounded chum for over a mile under German
-fire, but if you suggested a Victoria Cross for that
-man he would punch your head, and as he is a
-regular devil when roused the men say as little
-as they can about it. He thinks he didn’t do
-anything out of the common, and doesn’t see
-why his name should be dragged into the papers
-over it. Another case I heard of was a corporal<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_189">189</a></span>
-of the Fusilier Brigade—I don’t know his regiment—who
-held a company of Germans at bay for
-two hours by the old trick of firing at them from
-different points, and so making them think they
-had a crowd to face. He was getting on very well
-until a party of cavalry outflanked him, as you
-might say, and as they were right on top of him
-there was no kidding about his ‘strength,’ so he
-skedaddled, and the Germans took the position
-he had held so long. He got back to his mates all
-right, and they were glad to see him, for they had
-given him up for dead.”</p>
-
-<p>“No regiment fought harder than we did, and
-no regiment has better officers, who went shoulder
-to shoulder with their men,” says a non-commissioned
-officer of the Buffs, writing from hospital,
-“but you can’t expect absolute impossibilities
-to be accomplished, no matter how brave the boys
-are, when you are fighting a force from twenty to
-thirty times as strong. If some of you at home who
-have spoken sneeringly of British officers could
-have seen how they handled their men and shirked
-nothing you would be ashamed of yourselves. We
-are all determined when fit again to return and
-get our own back.”</p>
-
-<p>Everywhere you find that the one cry of the
-soldiers who are invalided home—they are<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_190">190</a></span>
-impatient to be cured quickly and get back “to
-have another slap at them.” We know how our
-women here at home share that eager enthusiasm
-in this the most righteous war Britain has
-ever gone into; and isn’t there something that
-stirs you like the sound of a trumpet in such a
-passage as this from the letter a Scottish nun
-living in Belgium has written to her mother?</p>
-
-<p class="p2">“I am glad England is aroused, and that the
-British lion is out with all his teeth showing.
-Here these little lions of Belgians are raging
-mad and doing glorious things.</p>
-
-<p>“Tell father I am cheery, and feel sometimes
-far too warlike for a nun. That’s my Scottish
-blood. I hope to goodness the Highlanders, if
-they come, will march down another street on
-their way to the caserne, or I shall shout and
-yell and cheer them, and forget I mustn’t look
-out of the window.”</p>
-
-<p class="p2">An extract from Sergeant T. Cahill’s letter to
-his friends at Bristol gives you a snap-shot of
-our women in the firing line, and of the fearless
-jollity and light-heartedness with which our
-Irish comrades meet the worst that their enemies
-can do:</p>
-
-<p class="p2"><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_191">191</a></span>
-“The Red Cross girleens, with their purty
-faces and their sweet ways, are as good men
-as most of us, and better than some of us. They
-are not supposed to venture into the firing
-line at all, but they get there all the same, and
-devil the one of us durst turn them away,” and
-he goes on casually, “Mick Clancy is that droll
-with his larking and bamboozling the Germans
-that he makes us nearly split our sides laughing
-at him and his ways. Yesterday he got a stick
-and put a cap on it so that it peeped above the
-trenches just like a man, and then the Germans
-kept shooting away at it until they must have
-used up tons of ammunition, and there was us
-all the time laughing at them.”</p>
-
-<p>But I think there is perhaps nothing in these
-letters that is more touching or more finely significant
-than this:</p>
-
-<p>“The other day I stopped to assist a young
-lad of the West Kents, who had been badly
-hit by a piece of shell,” writes Corporal Sam
-Haslett. “He hadn’t long to live, and knew
-it, but he wasn’t at all put out about it. I
-asked him if there was any message I could
-take to any one at home, and the poor lad’s
-eyes filled with tears as he answered: ‘I ran
-away from home and ’listed a year ago. Mother<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_192">192</a></span>
-and dad don’t know I’m here, but you tell them
-that I’m not sorry I did it.’ When I told our
-boys afterwards, they cried like babies, but, mind
-you, that’s the spirit that’s going to pull England
-through this war. I got his name and the
-address of his people from his regiment, and I am
-writing to tell them that they have every reason
-to be proud of their lad. He may have run away
-from home, but he didn’t run away from the
-Germans.”</p>
-
-<p>And if you have caught the buoyant, heroic
-ardour that rings through those careless, unstudied
-notes our gallant fellows have written
-home, you know that there is not a man in the
-firing line who will.</p>
-
-<p class="p2 center smaller">
-<i>Wyman & Sons Ltd., Printers, London and Reading.</i>
-</p>
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<div class="transnote">
-<h2 class="nobreak p1"><a id="Transcribers_Notes"></a>Transcriber’s Notes</h2>
-
-<p>Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a predominant
-preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed.</p>
-
-<p>Simple typographical errors were corrected; occasional unbalanced
-quotation marks retained.</p>
-
-<p>Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.</p>
-
-<p>Page <a href="#Page_68">68</a>: “smoking concerts” probably should be “smoking, concerts”.</p>
-
-<p>Page <a href="#Page_72">72</a>: “from Mons, It was” was punctuated and capitalized that way.</p>
-
-<p>Page <a href="#Page_150">150</a>: “1.0 p.m.” was printed that way.</p>
-</div></div>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
-
-
-
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+ margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + padding: .5em; + } + + .covernote {visibility: visible; display: block; text-align: justify;} +} + </style> + </head> + +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 53151 ***</div> + +<div class="transnote"> +<p class="center">Transcriber’s Note</p> + +<p>The reasons for using extra spacing between some paragraphs +were unclear to the Transcriber, so they were just replicated +the same way in this eBook, and do not necessarily mean what +they do in other eBooks.</p> + +<p>Other Notes will be found at the end of this eBook.</p> +</div> + +<div class="newpage figcenter" style="max-width: 25.625em;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="546" height="800" alt="Cover" /> +</div> + +<div class="newpage p4 center narrow10 xlarge bbox"> +<div class="bbox vspace"> +The Daily Telegraph<br /> +<span class="smaller bold wspace">WAR BOOKS</span> +</div></div> + +<h1 class="nobreak wspace b4">IN THE FIRING LINE</h1> + +<div class="newpage p4 center narrow35 bbox thickert"> +<table class="p1" summary="booklist heading"> + <tr> + <td class="tdc">Cloth <br /><span class="xxlarge bold">1/-</span><br />net<br />each</td> + <td class="tdc large bbox dbl vspace">The Daily Telegraph<br />WAR BOOKS</td> + <td class="tdc">Post<br />free<br /><span class="larger">1/3</span><br />each</td> + </tr> +</table> + +<p class="p1 center"> +<span class="bold">HOW THE WAR BEGAN</span><br /> +By W. L. COURTNEY, LL.D., and J. M. KENNEDY<br /> +<br /> +<span class="bold">THE FLEETS AT WAR</span><br /> +By ARCHIBALD HURD<br /> +<br /> +<span class="bold">THE CAMPAIGN OF SEDAN</span><br /> +By GEORGE HOOPER<br /> +<br /> +<span class="bold">THE CAMPAIGN ROUND LIEGE</span><br /> +By J. M. KENNEDY<br /> +<br /> +<span class="bold">IN THE FIRING LINE</span><br /> +By A. ST. JOHN ADCOCK<br /> +<br /> +<span class="bold">GREAT BATTLES OF THE WORLD</span><br /> +By STEPHEN CRANE<br /> +Author of “The Red Badge of Courage.”<br /> +<br /> +<span class="bold">BRITISH REGIMENTS AT THE FRONT</span><br /> +The story of their Battle Honours.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="bold">THE RED CROSS IN WAR</span><br /> +By Miss MARY FRANCES BILLINGTON<br /> +<br /> +<span class="bold">FORTY YEARS AFTER</span><br /> +The Story of the Franco-German War. By H. C. BAILEY.<br /> +With an Introduction by W. L. COURTNEY. LL.D.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="bold">A SCRAP OF PAPER</span><br /> +The Inner History of German Diplomacy.<br /> +By E. J. DILLON<br /> +<br /> +<span class="bold">HOW THE NATIONS WAGED WAR</span><br /> +A companion volume to “How the War Began,” telling how the world faced<br /> +Armageddon and how the British Army answered the call to arms.<br /> +By J. M. KENNEDY<br /> +<br /> +<span class="bold">AIR-CRAFT IN WAR</span><br /> +By S. ERIC BRUCE<br /> +<br /> +<span class="bold">FAMOUS FIGHTS OF INDIAN NATIVE REGIMENTS</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="bold">THE TRIUMPHANT RETREAT TO PARIS</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="bold">THE RUSSIAN ADVANCE</span><br /> +</p> +<p class="center"><span class="bold"><i>OTHER VOLUMES IN PREPARATION</i></span></p> +</div> +<div class="center narrow35 bbox thickerb b4"> +PUBLISHED FOR THE DAILY TELEGRAPH<br /> +BY HODDER & STOUGHTON, WARWICK SQUARE<br /> +LONDON, E.C. +</div> + +<div id="if_i_004" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 30.75em;"> + <img src="images/i_004.jpg" width="492" height="600" alt="" /> + <div class="caption"> + +<div class="floatl"> +<i>Drawn by Philip Daddd.</i></div> +<div class="floatr"><i>Copyright of The Sphere.</i></div> + +<p class="floatc"><span class="smcap">Charge of British Hussars against German Cuirassiers in a Village +of Northern France.</span><br /> +</p></div></div> + +<hr /> +<p class="newpage center xlarge vspace wspace bold"> +IN THE FIRING<br /> +LINE</p> + +<p class="p2 center wspace">STORIES OF THE WAR BY LAND AND SEA</p> + +<p class="p2 center vspace wspace large"><span class="small">BY</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">A. St. JOHN ADCOCK</span></p> + +<p class="p2 center large vspace wspace">HODDER AND STOUGHTON<br /> +<span class="smaller">LONDON NEW YORK TORONTO</span><br /> +<span class="small">MCMXIV</span> +</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2><a id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> +</div> + +<table id="toc" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td class="tdr top">I.</td><td class="tdl">THE BAPTISM OF FIRE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#I">7</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr top">II.</td><td class="tdl">THE FOUR DAYS’ BATTLE NEAR MONS</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#II">16</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr top">III.</td><td class="tdl">THE DESTRUCTION OF LOUVAIN</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#III">73</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr top">IV.</td><td class="tdl">THE FIGHT IN THE NORTH SEA</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#IV">90</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr top">V.</td><td class="tdl">FROM MONS TO THE WALLS OF PARIS</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#V">111</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdr top">VI.</td><td class="tdl">THE SPIRIT OF VICTORY</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#VI">185</a></td></tr> +</table> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_7">7</a></span></p> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2><span class="larger">IN THE FIRING LINE</span></h2> +</div> + +<hr /> +<h2 class="nobreak vspace"><a id="I"></a>I<br /> + +<span class="subhead"><span class="smcap">The Baptism of Fire</span></span></h2> + +<div class="poem-container"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="iq">“<i>E’en now their vanguard gathers,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>E’en now we face the fray.</i>”</span></div> + +<div class="attrib"><span class="smcap">Kipling.</span>—<cite>Hymn before Action.</cite> +</div></div> +</div> + +<p>The War Correspondent has become old-fashioned +before he has had time to grow old; he was made +by telegraphy, and wireless has unmade him. The +swift transmission of news from the front might +gratify us who are waiting anxiously at home, +but such news can be caught in the air now, or +secretly and as swiftly retransmitted so as to +gratify our enemies even more by keeping them +well-informed of our strength and intentions +and putting them on their guard. Therefore +our armies have rightly gone forth on this the +greatest war the world has ever seen as they went +to the Crusades, with no Press reporter in their<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_8">8</a></span> +ranks, and when the historian sits down, some +peaceful day in the future, to write his prose +epic of the Titanic struggle that is now raging +over Europe he will have no records of the actual +fighting except such as he can gather from the +necessarily terse official reports, the published +stories of refugees and wounded soldiers that +have been picked up by enterprising newspaper +men hovering alertly in the rear of the forces, +and from the private letters written to their +friends by the fighting men themselves.</p> + +<p>These letters compensate largely for the ampler, +more expert accounts the war correspondent is +not allowed to send us. They may tell little of +strategic movements or of the full tide and +progress of an engagement till you read them in +conjunction with the official reports, but in their +vivid, spontaneous revelations of what the man +in battle has seen and felt, in the intensity of +their human interest they have a unique value +beyond anything to be found in more professional +military or journalistic documents. They so +unconsciously express the personality and spirit +of their writers; the very homeliness of their +language adds wonderfully and unintentionally +to their effectiveness; there is rarely any note of +boastfulness even in a moment of triumph; +they record the most splendid heroisms casually,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_9">9</a></span> +sometimes even flippantly, as if it were merely +natural to see such things happening about them, +or to be doing such things themselves. If they +tell of hardships it is to laugh at them; again +and again there are little bursts of affection and +admiration for their officers and comrades—they +are the most potent of recruiting literature, +these letters, for a mere reading of them thrills +the stay-at-home with pride that these good +fellows are his countrymen and with a sort of +angry shame that his age or his safe civilian +responsibilities keep him from being out there +taking his stand beside them.</p> + +<p>The courage, the cheerfulness, the dauntless +spirit of them is the more striking when you +remember that the vast majority of our soldiers +have never been in battle until now. Russia +has many veterans from her war with Japan; +France has a few who fought the Prussian enemy +in 1870; we have some from the Boer war; but +fully three parts of our troops, like all the heroic +Belgians, have had their baptism of fire in the +present gigantic conflict. And it is curiously +interesting to read in several of the letters the +frank confession of their writers’ feelings when +they came face to face for the first time with the +menace of death in action. One such note, +published in various papers, was from Alfred<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_10">10</a></span> +Bishop, a sailor who took part in the famous +North Sea engagement of August last. His +ship’s mascot is a black cat, and:</p> + +<p class="p2">“Our dear little black kitten sat under our +foremost gun,” he writes, “during the whole +battle, and was not frightened at all, only when +we first started firing. But afterwards she sat +and licked herself.... Before we started fighting +we were all very nervous, but after we joined +in we were all happy and most of us laughing till +it was finished. Then we all sobbed and cried. +Even if I never come back don’t think I died a +painful death. Everything yesterday was quick +as lightning.”</p> + +<p class="p2">A wounded English gunner telling of how he +went into action near Mons owns to the same +touch of nervousness in the first few minutes:</p> + +<p class="p2">“What does it feel like to be under fire? +Well, the first shot makes you a bit shaky. It’s +a surprise packet. You have to wait and keep +on moving till you get a chance.” But as soon +as the chance came, his shakiness went, and his +one desire in hospital was “to get back to the +front as soon as the doctor says I’m fit to man a +gun. I don’t want to stop here.”</p> + +<p class="p2">“I have received my baptism of fire,” writes +a young Frenchman at the front to his parents<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_11">11</a></span> +in Paris. “I heard the bullets whistling at my +ears, and saw my poor comrades fall around me. +The first minutes are dreadful. They are the +worst. You feel wild. You hesitate; you don’t +know what to do. Then, after a time, you +feel quite at your ease in this atmosphere of +lead.”</p> + +<p class="p2">“I am in the field hospital now, with a nice +little hole in my left shoulder, through which a +bullet of one of the War Lord’s military subjects +has passed,” writes a wounded Frenchman to a +friend in London. “My shoulder feels much as +if some playful joker has touched it with a lighted +cigar.... It is strange, but in the face of death +and destruction I catch myself trying to make +out where the shell has fallen, as if I were an +interested spectator at a rifle competition. And +I was not the only one. I saw many curious faces +around me, bearing expressions full of interest, +just as if the owners of the respective faces formed +the auditorium of a highly fascinating theatrical +performance, without having anything to do +with the play itself. The impression crossed my +mind in one-thousandth part of a second, and +was followed by numerous others, altogether alien +from the most serious things which were happening +and going to happen. The human mind is a +curious and complicated thing. Now that we +were shooting at the enemy, and often afterwards +in the midst of a fierce battle, I heard some<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_12">12</a></span> +remark made or some funny expression used +which proved that the speaker’s thoughts were +far from realising the terrible facts around him. +It has nothing to do with heartlessness or anything +like that. I don’t know yet what it is. +Perhaps I shall have an opportunity to philosophise +on it later on.”</p> + +<p class="p2">There is a curious comment in a letter from +Sergeant Major MacDermott, who writes during +the great retreat from Mons, when everybody +had become inured to the atmosphere of the +battlefield.</p> + +<p class="p2">“We’re wonderfully cheerful, and happy as bare-legged +urchins scampering over the fields,” he says, +and adds, “It is the quantity not the quality of +the German shells that are having effect on us, +and it’s not so much the actual damage to life as +the hellish nerve-racking noise that counts for so +much. Townsmen who are used to the noise of +the streets can stand it a lot better than the +countrymen, and I think you will find that by far +the fittest are those regiments recruited in the +big cities. A London lad near me says it is no +worse than the roar of motor-buses in the City +on a busy day.”</p> + +<p class="p2">But the most graphic and minutely detailed +picture of the psychic experiences of a soldier<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_13">13</a></span> +plunged for the first time into the pandemonium +of a modern battle is given in the <cite>Retch</cite> by a +wounded Russian artillery officer writing from +a St. Petersburg hospital.</p> + +<p class="p2">“I cannot say where we fought, for we are +forbidden to divulge that, but I will tell you my +own experiences,” he says. “In times of peace +one has no conception of what a battle really +means. When war was declared our brigade +was despatched to the theatre of operations. +I went with delight, and so did the others. When +we reached our destination we were told that the +battle would begin in the morning.</p> + +<p>“At daybreak positions were assigned to us, +and the commander of the brigade handed us a +plan of the action of our artillery. From that +moment horror possessed our souls. It was not +anxiety for ourselves or fear of the enemy, but +a feeling of awe in the face of something unknown. +At six o’clock we opened fire at a mark which we +could not distinguish, but which we understood +to be the enemy.</p> + +<p>“Towards midday we were informed that the +German cavalry was attempting to envelop our +right wing, and were ordered in that direction. +Having occupied our new position we waited. +Suddenly we see the enemy coming, and at the +same time he opens fire on us. We turn our +guns upon him, and I give the order to fire. I<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_14">14</a></span> +myself feel that I am in a kind of nightmare. +Our battery officers begin to melt away. I see +that the Germans are developing their attack. +First one regiment appears, and then another. +I direct the guns and pour a volley of projectiles +right into the thick of the first regiment. Then +a second volley, and a third. I see how they +fall among the men, and can even discern the +severed limbs of the dead flying into the air after +the explosion.</p> + +<p>“One of the enemy’s regiments is annihilated. +Then a second one. All this time I am pouring +missiles in among them. But now the nervous +feeling has left me. My soul is filled with hate, +and I continue to shoot at the enemy without +the least feeling of pity.</p> + +<p>“Yet still the enemy is advancing, rushing +forward and lying down in turns. I do not +understand his tactics, but what are they to me? +It is enough for me that I am occupying a favourable +position and mowing him down like a strong +man with a scythe in a clover field.</p> + +<p>“During the first night after the battle I could +not sleep a wink. All the time my mind was +filled with pictures of the battlefield. I saw +German regiments approaching, and myself firing +right into the thick of them. Heads, arms, legs, +and whole bodies of men were being flung high into +the air. It was a dreadful vision.</p> + +<p>“I was in four battles. When the second began<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_15">15</a></span> +I went into it like an automaton. Only your +muscles are taxed. All the rest of your being +seems paralyzed. So complete is the suspension +of the sensory processes that I never felt my +wound. All I remember is that a feeling of giddiness +came over me, and my head began to swim. +Then I swooned to the ground, and was picked up +by the Medical Corps and carried to the rear.”</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_16">16</a></span></p> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="vspace"><a id="II"></a>II<br /> + +<span class="subhead"><span class="smcap">The Four Days’ Battle Near Mons</span></span></h2> +</div> + +<div class="poem-container"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="iq">“<i>And turning to his men,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Quoth our brave Henry then,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>‘Though they be one to ten,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Be not amazed.’</i>”<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="attrib"><span class="smcap">Michael Drayton.</span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<p>Most of us are old enough to remember how, when +we entered upon the South African Campaign +(as when we started the Crimean and other of +our wars) the nation was divided against itself; +passionate, bitter controversies were waged between +anti-Boer and pro-Boer—between those +who considered the war an unjust and those who +considered it a just one. This time there has been +nothing of that. Sir Edward Grey’s resolute +efforts for peace proving futile, as soon as Germany +tore up her obligations of honour, that +“scrap of paper,” and began to pour her huge, +boastedly irresistible armies into Belgium, we +took up the gauge she so insolently flung to us, +and the one feeling from end to end of the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_17">17</a></span> +Empire was of devout thankfulness that our +Government had so instantly done the only +right and honourable thing; all political parties, +all classes flung their differences behind them +unhesitatingly and stood four-square at once +against the common enemy. They were heartened +by a sense of relief, even, that the swaggering +German peril which had been darkly +menacing us for years had materialised and was +upon us at last, that we were coming to grips +with it and should have the chance of ending it +once and for ever.</p> + +<p>But immediately after our declaration of war +on August 4th, a strange secrecy and silence fell +like an impenetrable mask over all our military +movements. In our cities and towns we were +troubled with business disorganisations, but that +mystery, that waiting in suspense, troubled us +far more. News came that the fighting continued +furiously on the Belgian frontier; that +it was beginning on the fringes of Alsace; that +the Russians were advancing victoriously on +East Prussia; and still though our own army +was mobilised and we were eagerly starting to +raise a new and a larger one, we rightly learned +no more, perhaps less, than the enemy could of +what our Expeditionary Force was doing or +where it was. Last time we were at war we had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_18">18</a></span> +seen regiment after regiment go off with bands +playing and with cheering multitudes lining the +roads as they passed; this time we had no glimpse +of their going; did not know when they went, +or so much as whether they were gone. One +day rumour landed them safely in France or +Belgium; the next it assured us that they were +not yet ready to embark; and the next it had +rushed them, as by magic, right across Belgium +and credited them with standing shoulder to +shoulder in the fighting line with the magnificent +defenders of Liège. But the glory of that defence, +as we were soon to find out, belongs to +Belgium alone; the Germans had hacked their +way through and were nearing Mons before our +men were able to get far enough north to come +in touch with them. Not that they had lost +any time on the road. It took a fortnight to +mobilise and equip them; they sailed from +Southampton on August 17th, and four days +later were at Mons and under fire. This much +and more you may gather from a diary-letter +that was published in the <cite>Western Daily Press</cite>:</p> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 1.—From Sapper George Bryant, Royal +Engineers, to his father, Mr. J. J. Bryant, of +Fishponds:</i></h3> + +<blockquote class="hang"> + +<p>Aug. 17.—Sailed from Southampton, on <cite>Manchester +Engineer</cite>, 4.45 a.m.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_19">19</a></span> +Aug. 18.—Landed Rouen, 6.20 a.m. Proceeded +to rest camp at the Racecourse, Rouen.</p> + +<p>Aug. 19.—Left camp 9 p.m., and entrained to +Aulnoye.</p> + +<p>Aug. 20.—Marched to Fiezines.</p> + +<p>Aug. 21.—Marched to Mons, and proceeded +to the canal, to obstacle the bridges and +prepare for blowing up. Barricaded the +main streets. Saw German cavalry, and +was under fire.</p> + +<p>Aug. 22.—Severe fighting and terrible. Went +to blow up bridges with Lieut. Day, who +was shot at my side through the nose. Unable +to destroy bridges owing to such heavy +firing of the Germans. Sight heart-breaking. +Women and children driven from their +homes by point of bayonet, and marched +through streets in front of Germans, who +fired behind them and through their armpits. +Therefore, our fellows were unable to +fire back. They rolled up in thousands, +about 100 to our one. Went from here to +dig trenches for infantry retreating. Was +soon under fire, and had to retreat, and +infantry took our position, and were completely +wiped out (Middlesex).</p> + +<p>Aug. 23.—Severe fighting and bombarding of a +town, shells bursting around us. Retreated, +and dug trenches for infantry, but soon had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_20">20</a></span> +fire about us, and retreated again and marched +to take up position for next day, which was +to be a rest, us having had but very little.</p> + +<p>Aug. 24.—Were unable to rest. Germans +pressed us hotly, and fired continually. One +of their aeroplanes followed our route, and +was fired at. One of our lieutenants chased +it, and eventually succeeded in shooting +the aviator through the head, and he came +to earth. Three aeroplanes were captured +this day. We had no close fighting, and +marched away to take up a position for +next day’s fighting, which was a hard day’s +work.</p> + +<p>Aug. 25.—We tried to destroy an orchard, but +drew the Germans’ artillery fire, which was +hot and bursting around us. We continued +our work until almost too late, and had +to retire to infantry lines, and had it hot +in doing so. I was stood next to General +Shaw’s aide-camp who was badly wounded, +but was not touched myself. We dug +trenches for infantry, and then marched +to join the 2nd Division, but fire was +too hot to enable us to do our work. +Germans were surrounded by us to the +letter “C,” and we were waiting for the +French to come up on our right flank, but +they did not arrive. On returning from the +2nd Division two shells, one after another,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_21">21</a></span> +burst in front of us, first destroying a house; +the second, I received my wound in left leg, +being the only fellow hit out of 180. Was +placed on tool cart, and taken to Field +Hospital, but rest there was short, owing +to Germans firing on hospital. Orderlies +ran off and left us three to take our chance. +Germans blew up church and hospital in +same village, and were firing on ours when +I was helped out by the other two fellows, +and on to a cart, which overtook the ambulance, +which I was put on, and travelled +all night to St. Quentin and was entrained +there at 9.30 a.m. Aug. 26.</p> + +<p>Aug. 26.—Travelled all day, reaching Rouen, +Aug. 27, and was taken to Field Hospital +on Racecourse.</p></blockquote> + +<p class="p2">We shall have to wait some time yet for full +and coherent accounts of the fierce fighting at +Mons, but from the soldiers’ letters and the +stories of the wounded one gets illuminating +glimpses of that terrific four-days’ battle.</p> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 2.—From Driver W. Moore, Royal Field +Artillery, to the superintendent of the “Cornwall” +training ship, of which Driver Moore +is an “old boy” still under twenty:</i></h3> + +<p>It was Sunday night when we saw the +enemy. We were ready for action, but were<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_22">22</a></span> +lying down to have a rest, when orders came to +stand at our posts. It was about four a.m. on +Monday when we started to fire; we were at +it all day till six p.m., when we started to advance. +Then the bugle sounded the charge, and the +cavalry and infantry charged like madmen at +the enemy; then the enemy fell back about +forty miles, so we held them at bay till Wednesday, +when the enemy was reinforced. Then they +came on to Mons, and by that time we had +every man, woman, and child out of the +town.</p> + +<p>We were situated on a hill in a cornfield and +could see all over the country. It was about +three p.m., and we started to let them have a +welcome by blowing up two of their batteries in +about five minutes; then the infantry let go, and +then the battle was in full swing.</p> + +<p>In the middle of the battle a driver got +wounded and asked to see the colours before he +died, and he was told by an officer that the guns +were his colours. He replied, “Tell the drivers +to keep their eyes on their guns, because if we +lose our guns we lose our colours.”</p> + +<p>Just then the infantry had to retire, and the +gunners had to leave their guns, but the drivers +were so proud of their guns that they went and +got them out, and we retired to St. Quentin. We +had a roll-call, and only ten were left out of my +battery. This was the battle in which poor<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_23">23</a></span> +Winchester (another old <em>Cornwall</em> boy) lost his +life in trying to get the guns away.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 3.—From Private G. Moody, to his parents +at Beckenham:</i></h3> + +<p>I was at Mons in the trenches in the firing line +for twenty-four hours, and my regiment was +ordered to help the French on the right. Poor +old A Company was left to occupy the trenches +and to hold them: whatever might happen, they +were not to leave them. There were about 250 +of us, and the Germans came on, and as fast as +we knocked them over more took their places.</p> + +<p>Well, out of 250 men only eighty were left, +and we had to surrender. They took away everything, +and we were lined up to be shot, so as to +be no trouble to them. Then the cavalry of the +French made a charge, and the Germans were cut +down like grass. We got away, and wandered +about all night, never knowing if we were walking +into our chaps or the Germans. After walking +about some time we commenced falling down +through drinking water that had been poisoned, +and then we were put into some motor-wagons +and taken to Amiens.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_24">24</a></span></p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 4.—From a Lincolnshire Sergeant to his +brother:</i></h3> + +<p>It came unexpectedly. The first inkling we +had was just after reveille, when our cavalry +pickets fell back and reported the presence of the +enemy in strength on our front and slightly to +the left. In a few minutes we were all at our +posts without the slightest confusion, and as we +lay down in the trenches our artillery opened +fire. It was a fine sight to see the shells speeding +through the air to pay our respects to Kaiser +Bill and his men. Soon the Germans returned +the compliment; but they were a long time in +finding anything approaching the range, and they +didn’t know of shelters—a trick we learned from +the Boers, I believe. After about half an hour +of this work their infantry came into view along +our front. They were in solid square blocks +standing out sharply against the skyline, and we +couldn’t help hitting them. We lay in our +trenches with not a sound or sign to tell them of +what was before them. They crept nearer and +nearer, and then our officers gave the word. +Under the storm of bullets they seemed to stagger +like drunken men, after which they made a run +for us shouting some outlandish cry that we +could not make out. Half way across the open +another volley tore through their ranks, and by +this time our artillery began dropping shells +around them. Then an officer gave an order, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_25">25</a></span> +they broke into open formation, rushing like +mad things towards the trenches on our left. +Some of our men continued the volley firing, but +a few of the crack shots were told off to indulge +in independent firing for the benefit of the +Germans. That is another trick taught us by +Brother Boer, and our Germans did not like it +at all. They fell back in confusion and then lay +down wherever cover was available.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 5.—From Private Levy, Royal Munster +Fusiliers:</i></h3> + +<p>We were sent up to the firing line to try and +save a battery. When we got there we found that +they were nearly all killed or wounded. Our +Irish lads opened fire on the dirty Germans, and +you should have seen them fall. It was like a +game of skittles. But as soon as you knocked +them down up came another thousand or so. +We could not make out where they came from. +So, all of a sudden, our officers gave us the order +to charge. We fixed bayonets and went like +fire through them. You should have seen them +run!</p> + +<p>We had two companies of ours there against +about 3,000 of theirs, and I tell you it was warm. +I was not sorry when night-time came, but that<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_26">26</a></span> +was not all. You see, we had no horses to get +those guns away, and our chaps would not leave +them.</p> + +<p>We dragged them ourselves to a place of +safety. As the firing line was at full swing we +had with us an officer of the Hussars. I think +he was next to me, and he had his hand nearly +blown off by one of the German shells. So I and +two more fellows picked him up and took him +to a place of safety, where he got his wound cared +for. I heard afterwards that he had been sent +home, poor fellow.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 6.—From Sergeant A. J. Smith, 1st Lincolnshire +Regiment:</i></h3> + +<p>We smashed up the Kaiser’s famous regiment—the +Imperial Guards—and incidentally +they gave us a shaking. They caught me napping. +I got wounded on Sunday night, but I stuck it +until Thursday. I could then go no further, +so they put me in the ambulance and sent me +home. It was just as safe in the firing line as in +the improvised hospital, as when our force moved +the Germans closed up and shelled the hospitals +and burned the villages to the ground.</p> + +<p>We started on Sunday, and were fighting +and marching until Thursday. Troops were<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_27">27</a></span> +falling asleep on the roadside until the shells +started dropping, then we were very much +awake.</p> + +<p>I feel proud to belong to the British Army +for the way in which they bore themselves in +front of the other nations. No greater tribute +could be paid us than what a German officer, who +was captured, said. He said it was inferno to +stand up against the British Army.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 7.—From Private J. R. Tait, of the 2nd +Essex Regiment:</i></h3> + +<p>We were near Mons when we had the order +to entrench. It was just dawn when we were +half-way down our trenches, and we were on +our knees when the Germans opened a murderous +fire with their guns and machine guns. We opened +a rapid fire with our Maxims and rifles; we let +them have it properly, but no sooner did we +have one lot down than up came another lot, and +they sent their cavalry to charge us, but we were +there with our bayonets, and we emptied our +magazines on them. Their men and horses were +in a confused heap. There were a lot of wounded +horses we had to shoot to end their misery. We +had several charges with their infantry, too. +We find they don’t like the bayonets. Their<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_28">28</a></span> +rifle shooting is rotten; I don’t believe they could +hit a haystack at 100 yards. We find their +Field Artillery very good; we don’t like their +shrapnel; but I noticed that some did not burst; +if one shell that came over me had burst I should +have been blown to atoms; I thanked the Lord +it did not. I also heard our men singing that +famous song: “Get out and get under.” I know +that for an hour in our trench it would make +anyone keep under, what with their shells and +machine guns. Many poor fellows went to their +death like heroes.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 8.—From an Oldham Private to his wife +at Waterhead:</i></h3> + +<p>We have had a terrible time, and were in +action for three days and nights. On Wednesday +the officers said that Spion Kop was heaven to +the fighting we had on that day. It is God +help our poor fellows who get wounded in the +legs or body and could not get off the battlefield, +as when we retired the curs advanced and +shot and bayonetted them as they tried to +crawl away. They are rotten shots with the +rifles. If they stood on Blackpool sands I don’t +believe they could hit the sea, but they are very +good with the shrapnel guns, and nearly all our<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_29">29</a></span> +wounded have been hit with shrapnel bullets. +Each shrapnel shell contains about 200 bullets +which scatter all around, so just think what +damage one shell can do when it drops among a +troop of soldiers.</p> + +<p>On the Tuesday our regiment went to the +top of a hill which had a big flat top. An outpost +of a Scotch regiment reported to us on our way +up that all was clear, and we thought the enemy +were about five miles away. We formed up in +close formation—about 1,200 strong. Our commanding +officer told us to pull our packs off, and +start entrenching, but this was the last order +he will ever give, for the enemy opened fire at +us with five Maxim guns from a wood only 400 +yards in front of us. They mowed us down like +straw, and we could get no cover at all. Those +who were left had to roll off the hill into the +roadway—a long straight road—but we got it +worse there. They had two shrapnel guns at the +top of the road, and they did fearful execution to +us and the Lancashire Fusiliers, who were also +in the roadway. Any man who got out of that +hell-hole should shake hands with himself.</p> + +<p>This all happened before six o’clock in the +morning. I have only seen about sixty of our +regiment since. Our Maxim gun officer tried +to fix his gun up during their murderous fire, +but he got half his face blown away. We retired +in splendid order about 300 yards, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_30">30</a></span> +then lined a ridge. Up to then we hardly fired a +shot. They had nearly wiped three regiments +out up to then, but our turn came. We gave +them lead as fast as we could pull the triggers, +and I think we put three Germans out to every +one of our men accounted for. Bear in mind, they +were about 250,000 strong to our 50,000. We got +three Germans, and they said their officers told +them that we were Russians and that England +had not sent any men to fight.</p> + +<p>They made us retire about five miles, and +then we got the master of them, because our +guns came up and covered the ground with dead +Germans. The German gunners are good shots, +but ours are a lot better. After we had shelled +them a bit we got them on the run, and we drove +them back to three miles behind where the battle +started. We did give it them. I will say this, +none of our soldiers touched any wounded Germans, +though it took us all our time to keep +our bayonets out of their ribs after seeing what +they did with our wounded. But, thank God, +we governed our tempers and left them alone.</p> + +<p>I said we got the Germans on the run. And +they can run! I picked up a few trophies and +put them in my pack, but I got it blown off my +back almost, so I had to discard it. I got one in +the ribs, and then a horse got shot and fell on top +of me, putting my shoulder out again and crushing +my ribs. Otherwise I am fit to tackle a few<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_31">31</a></span> +more Germans, and I hope I shall soon be back +again at the front to get a bit of my own back.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 9.—From a private of the 1st Lincolns to +friends at Barton-on-Humber:</i></h3> + +<p>Just a line to tell you I have returned from +the front, and I can tell you we have had a very +trying time of it. I must also say I am very +lucky to be here. We were fighting from Sunday, +23rd, to Wednesday evening, on nothing to +eat or drink—only the drop of water in our +bottles which we carried. No one knows—only +those that have seen us could credit such a sight, +and if I live for years may I never see such a +sight again. I can tell you it is not very nice +to see your chum next to you with half his head +blown off. The horrible sights I shall never forget. +There seemed nothing else only certain +death staring us in the face all the time. I cannot +tell you all on paper. We must, however, +look on the bright side, for it is no good doing +any other. There are thousands of these +Germans and they simply throw themselves at +us. It is no joke fighting seven or eight to one. +I can tell you we have lessened them a little, but +there are millions more yet to finish.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_32">32</a></span></p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 10.—From one of the 9th Lancers to friends at +Alfreton:</i></h3> + +<p>I was at the great battle of Mons, and got a few +shots in me. Once I was holding my officer’s +horse and my own, when, all of a sudden, a +German shell came over and burst. Both horses +were killed. I got away with my left hand split +and three fingers blown in pieces. I am recovering +rather quickly. I shall probably have to lose +one or two of my fingers. I had two bullets +taken from my body on Tuesday, and I can tell +you I am in pain. I think I am one of the luckiest +men in the world to escape as I did. War is a +terrible thing. It is a lot different to what most +of us expected. Women and children leaving +their homes with their belongings—then all of a +sudden their houses would be in ashes, blown to +the ground. I shall be glad to get well again. +Then I can go and help again to fight the brutal +Germans. The people in France and Belgium +were so kind and good to our soldiers. They +gave everything they possibly could do.</p> + +<p>I have not heard from Jack (his brother, also at +the front). I do so hope he will come back.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<div id="ip_32" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 31.1875em;"> + <img src="images/i_032.jpg" width="499" height="600" alt="" /> + <div class="caption"> + +<div class="floatl"><i>Drawn by F. Matania.</i></div> +<div class="floatr"><i>Copyright of The Sphere.</i></div> +<p class="floatc"><span class="smcap">The British Expeditionary Force Lands in France, August, 1914.</span></p></div></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_33">33</a></span></p> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 11.—From a wounded Gordon Highlander to +his father, Mr. Alexander Buchan, of Monymusk:</i></h3> + +<p>We had a pretty stiff day of it last Sunday. +The battalion went into small trenches in front +of a wood a few miles to the right of Mons, and +the Germans had the range to a yard. I was on +the right edge of the wood with the machine guns, +and there wasn’t half some joy.</p> + +<p>The shells were bursting all over the place. It +was a bit of a funny sensation for a start, but you +soon got used to it. You would hear it coming +singing through the air over your head; then it +would give a mighty big bang and you would see +a great flash, and there would be a shower of +lumps of iron and rusty nails all around your ears. +They kept on doing that all Sunday; sometimes +three or four at the same time, but none of them +hit me. I was too fly for them.</p> + +<p>Their artillery is pretty good, but the infantry +are no good at all. They advance in close column, +and you simply can’t help hitting them. I opened +fire on them with the machine gun and you could +see them go over in heaps, but it didn’t make any +difference. For every man that fell ten took his +place. That is their strong point. They have +an unlimited supply of men.</p> + +<p>They think they can beat any army in the +world simply by hurling great masses of troops +against them, but they are finding out their<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_34">34</a></span> +mistake now that they are put up against British +troops. The reason for the British retreat is +this—all up through France are great lines of +entrenchments and fortresses, and as they have +not enough men to defeat the Germans in open +battle, they are simply retiring from position to +position—holding the Germans for a few days +and then retiring to the next one. All this is just +to gain time. Our losses are pretty severe, but +they are nothing to the Germans, whose losses +are ten to every one of ours.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 12.—From Private J. Willis, of the Gordon +Highlanders:</i></h3> + +<p>You mustn’t run away with the notion that +we stand shivering or cowering under shell fire, +for we don’t. We just go about our business in +the usual way. If it’s potting at the Germans +that is to the fore we keep at it as though nothing +were happening, and if we’re just having a wee +bit chat among ourselves we keep at it all the +same.</p> + +<p>Last week when I got this wound in my leg +it was because I got excited in an argument with +wee Georgie Ferriss, of our company, about +Queen’s Park Rangers and their chances this +season. One of my chums was hit when he<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_35">35</a></span> +stood up to light a cigarette while the Germans +were blazing away at us.</p> + +<p>Keep your eyes wide open and you will have +a big surprise sooner than you think. We’re all +right, and the Germans will find that out sooner +than you at home.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 13.—From Private G. Kay, of the 2nd +Royal Scots, to his employer, a milkman, at +Richmond:</i></h3> + +<p>You will be surprised to hear I am home +from Belgium in hospital with a slight wound +in my heel from shrapnel. I had a narrow +escape in Wednesday’s battle at or near Mons, +as I was with the transport, and it was surrounded +twice.</p> + +<p>The last time I made holes in the stable +wall, and had a good position for popping them +off—and I did, too; but somehow they got +to know where we were, and shelled us for three +hours. Off went the roof, and off went the roof +of other buildings around us. At last a shell +exploded and set fire to our cooking apparatus +and our stables. We had twenty-two fine horses, +and all the transport in this stable yard. We +hung on for orders to remove the horses. None +came. At last a shell like a thunderbolt struck<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_36">36</a></span> +the wall, and down came half the stables, and +as luck would have it, as we retired—only about +six of us—my brother-in-law, the chap you +were going to start when we were called up, +went to the right and I went to the left. Just +then a shell burst high and struck several down +in the yard—it was then I got hit—smashed the +butt of my rifle, and sent me silly for five minutes. +Then I heard a major say, “For yourselves, +boys.” I looked for my brother-in-law, but he +was not to be seen, and I have not heard of +him since. During all this time the fire was +spreading rapidly. I was told to go back and +cut the horses loose. I did so, and some of +them got out, but others were burnt to death.</p> + +<p>Then God answered my prayer, and I had +strength to run through a line of rifle fire over +barbed wire covered by a hedge, and managed +to get out of rifle range, three hundred yards +or four hundred yards away, and then I fell +for want of water. I just had about two teaspoonfuls +in my bottle, and then I went on +struggling my way through hedges to a railway +line.</p> + +<p>When I got through I saw an awful sight—a +man of the Royal Irish with six wounds +from shrapnel. He asked me for water, but +I had none. I managed to carry him about +half a mile, and then found water. I stuck to +him though he was heavy and I was feeling<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_37">37</a></span> +weak and tired. I had to carry him through a +field of turnips, and half way I slipped and both +fell. I then had a look back and could see the +fire mountains high.</p> + +<p>I then saw one of my own regiment, and +called to him to stay with this man while I went +for a shutter or a door, which I got, and with +the help of two Frenchmen soon got him to a +house and dressed him. We were being shelled +again from the other end of the village then. We +were about fifteen strong, as some slightly wounded +came up and some not wounded. We got him +away, and then met a company of Cameron +Highlanders, and handed him over to them.</p> + +<p>I think I marched nearly sixty-three miles, +nearly all on one foot, and at last I got a horse +and made my way to Mons, where I was put in +the train for Havre.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 14.—From Sergeant Taylor, of the R.H.A.:</i></h3> + +<p>Our first brush with the enemy was on +August 21st, about thirty miles from Mons, +but Mons, my goodness, it was just like Brock’s +benefit at Belle Vue, and you would have thought +it was hailing. Of course, we were returning +the compliment. The Germans always found the +range, which proved they had good maps, yet<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_38">38</a></span> +in their anxiety they tried to fire too many shells, +the consequence being that a lot of them were +harmless, and they did not give themselves time +to properly fuse them. Only on one day—from +the 21st to my leaving—did we miss an +action. In General French’s report you will, +no doubt, see where the 5th Brigade accounted +for two of the German cavalry regiments, of +which only six troopers were taken prisoners; +the rest bit the dust. One of these regiments +was the Lancers, of which the late Queen was +honorary colonel.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 15.—From Private J. Atkinson, of the +Duke of Wellington’s West Riding Regiment, +to his wife at Leeds:</i></h3> + +<p>Talk about a time! I would not like to go +through the same again for love or money.</p> + +<p>It is not war. It is murder. The Germans +are murdering our wounded as fast as they come +across them. I gave myself up for done a week +last Sunday night, as we were in the thick of +the fight at Mons. Our regiment started fighting +with 1,009 and finished with 106 and three +officers. That made 109, as we just lost 900. +It was cruel. At one place we were at there +were six streets of the town where all the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_39">39</a></span> +women were left widows, and were all wearing +the widows’ weeds. The French regiment that +fought there was made up in the town and they +got wiped out.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 16.—From Private Robert Robertson, of the +Argylls, to his parents at Musselburgh:</i></h3> + +<p>The poor Argylls got pretty well hit, but +never wavered a yard for all their losses. The +Scots Greys are doing great work at the front—in +fact they were the means of putting ten +thousand Germans to their fate on Sunday +morning. I will never forget that day, as our +regiment left a town on the French frontier on +Saturday morning at 3 o’clock and marched till +3 a.m. on Sunday into a Belgian town. I was +about to have an hour in bed, at least a lie down +in a shop, when I was wakened to go on guard at +the General’s headquarters, and while I was on +guard a Captain of the crack French cavalry +came in with the official report of the ten thousand +Germans killed. The Scots Greys, early that +morning, had decoyed the Germans right in front +of the machine guns of the French, and they just +mowed them down. There was no escape for +them, poor devils, but they deserve it the way +they go on. You would be sorry for the poor<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_40">40</a></span> +Belgian women having to leave their homes with +young children clinging to them. One sad case +we came across on the roadside was a woman +just out of bed two days after giving birth to a +child. The child was torn from her breast, and +her breast cut off that the infant was sucking. +Then the Germans bayoneted the child before the +mother’s eyes. We did the best we could for her, +but she died about six hours after telling us her +hardships.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 17.—From Private Whitaker, of the Coldstream +Guards:</i></h3> + +<p>You thought it was a big crowd that streamed +out of the Crystal Palace when we went to see the +Cup Final. Well, outside Compiègne it was just +as if that crowd came at us. You couldn’t miss +them. Our bullets ploughed into them, but still +they came for us. I was well entrenched, and my +rifle got so hot I could hardly hold it. I was +wondering if I should have enough bullets, when +a pal shouted, “Up, Guards, and at ’em!” The +next second he was rolled over with a nasty +knock on the shoulder. He jumped up and +hissed, “Let me get at them!” His language +was a bit stronger than that.</p> + +<p>When we really did get the order to get at<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_41">41</a></span> +them we made no mistake, I can tell you. They +cringed at the bayonet, but those on our left wing +tried to get round us, and after racing as hard as +we could for quite five hundred yards we cut up +nearly every man who did not run away.</p> + +<p>You have read of the charge of the Light Brigade. +It was nowt to our cavalry chaps. I saw two +of our fellows who were unhorsed stand back to +back and slash away with their swords, bringing +down nine or ten of the panic-stricken devils. +Then they got hold of the stirrup-straps of a +horse without a rider, and got out of the melée. +This kind of thing was going on all day.</p> + +<p>In the afternoon I thought we should all get +bowled over, as they came for us again in their +big numbers. Where they came from, goodness +knows; but as we could not stop them with +bullets they had another taste of the bayonet. +My captain, a fine fellow, was near to me, and as +he fetched them down he shouted, “Give them +socks, my lads!” How many were killed and +wounded I don’t know; but the field was covered +with them.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 18.—From a private in the Coldstream +Guards to his mother:</i></h3> + +<p>First of all I sailed from Southampton on +August 12th on a cattle boat called the <i>Cawdor<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_42">42</a></span> +Castle</i>. We sailed at 9.30 at night, and after +a passage of 14½ hours landed at Le Havre, on +the coast of France. We went into camp there, +and then left on August 14th, getting into a train, +not third class carriages, but cattle trucks. We +were on the train eighteen and a half hours, +and I was a bit stiff when I got out at a place +called Wassigny. Then we marched through +pouring rain to a village, where we slept in some +barns. The next day being Sunday, August 16th, +we got on the march to a place called Grooges, +a distance of about nine miles. We stayed there +till Thursday.</p> + +<p>Then we started to march to get into Belgium. +We got there on Sunday, the 23rd, just outside +Mons. We dug trenches, from which we had to +retire, and then we got into a position, and there +I saw the big battle, but could not do anything, +because we were with the artillery. We +retreated into France, being shelled all the way, +and on the Tuesday, the 25th, we marched into +Landrecies. We arrived there about one o’clock +and were thinking ourselves lucky. We considered +we were going to have two days’ rest, +but about five o’clock the alarm was raised. +The Germans got to the front of us and were trying +to get in the town. So we fixed our bayonets, +doubled up the road, and the fight started. The +German artillery shelled us, and some poor chaps +got hit badly. The chap next to me got shot,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_43">43</a></span> +and I tried to pull him out of the road, so that +I could get down in his place, as there was not +room for us all in the firing line. We had to lay +down behind and wait our chance. I had got on my +knees, and just got hold of his leg, when something +hit my rifle and knocked it out of my hand, +and almost at the same time a bullet went right +through my arm. It knocked me over, and I +must have bumped my head, for I do not remember +any more till I felt someone shaking me. +It was the doctor—a brave man, for he came +right up amongst the firing to tend the wounded. +He bandaged my arm up, and I had to get to +hospital, a mile and a half away, as best I could.</p> + +<p>The beasts of Germans shelled the building all +night long without hitting it. We moved next +morning, and by easy stages left for England. +I am going on fine; shall soon be back and at +it again I expect. Keep up your spirits, won’t +you? I believe it was only your prayers at home +that guarded me that Tuesday night, simply awful +it was.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 19.—From a wounded English Officer, in a +Belgian hospital, to his mother:</i></h3> + +<p>I do not know if this letter will ever get +to you or not, but I am writing on the chance<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_44">44</a></span> +that it will. A lot has happened since I last +wrote to you. We marched straight up to +Belgium from France, and the first day we +arrived my company was put on outposts for +the night. During the night we dug a few +trenches, etc., so did not get much sleep. The +next day the Germans arrived, and I will try +and describe the fight. We were only advanced +troops of a few hundred holding the line of +a canal. The enemy arrived about 50,000 +strong. We held them in check all day and killed +hundreds of them, and still they came. Finally, +of course, we retired on our main body. I will +now explain the part I played. We were guarding +a railway bridge over a canal. My company +held a semicircle from the railway to the canal. +I was nearest the railway. A Scottish regiment +completed the semicircle on the right of the +railway to the canal. The railway was on a +high embankment running up to the bridge, so +that the Scottish regiment was out of sight +of us. We held the Germans all day, killing +hundreds, when about five p.m. the order to +retire was eventually given. It never reached +us, and we were left all alone. The Germans +therefore got right up to the canal on our right, +hidden by the railway embankment, and crossed +the railway. Our people had blown up the +bridge before their departure. We found ourselves +between two fires, and I realized we had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_45">45</a></span> +about 2,000 Germans and a canal between myself +and my friends.</p> + +<p>We decided to sell our lives dearly. I +ordered my men to fix bayonets and charge, +which the gallant fellows did splendidly, but +we got shot down like nine-pins. As I was +loading my revolver after giving the order to +fix bayonets I was hit in the right wrist. I +dropped my revolver, my hand was too weak +to draw my sword. This afterwards saved +my life. I had not got far when I got a bullet +through the calf of my right leg and another +in my right knee, which brought me down. +The rest of my men got driven round into the +trench on our left. The officer there charged +the Germans and was killed himself, and nearly +all the men were either killed or wounded. I +did not see this part of the business, but from +all accounts the gallant men charged with the +greatest bravery. Those who could walk the +Germans took away as prisoners. I have since +discovered from civilians that around the bridge +5,000 Germans were found dead and about 60 +English. These 60 must have been nearly all +my company, who were so unfortunately left +behind.</p> + +<p>As regards myself, when I lay upon the +ground I found my coat sleeve full of blood, +and my wrist spurting blood, so I knew an +artery of some sort must have been cut. The<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_46">46</a></span> +Germans had a shot at me when I was on the +ground to finish me off; that shot hit my sword, +which I wore on my side, and broke in half +just below the hilt; this turned the bullet off +and saved my life. I afterwards found that +two shots had gone through my field glasses, +which I wore on my belt, and another had gone +through my coat pocket, breaking my pipe +and putting a hole through a small collapsible +tin cup, which must have turned the bullet off me. +We lay out there all night for twenty-four hours. +I had fainted away from loss of blood, and when I +lost my senses I thought I should never see anything +again. Luckily I had fallen on my wounded +arm, and the arm being slightly twisted I think +the weight of my body stopped the flow of blood +and saved me. At any rate, the next day +civilians picked up ten of us who were still alive, +and took us to a Franciscan convent, where we +have been splendidly looked after. All this +happened on August 23rd, it is now September +3rd. I am ever so much better, and can walk +about a bit now, and in a few days will be quite +healed up. It is quite a small hole in my wrist, +and it is nearly healed, and my leg is much +better; the bullets escaped the bones, so that +in a week I shall be quite all right. Unfortunately +the Germans are at present in possession of this +district, so that I am more or less a prisoner +here. But I hope the English will be here<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_47">47</a></span> +in a week, when I shall be ready to rejoin +them.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 20.—From W. Hawkins, of the 3rd Coldstream +Guards:</i></h3> + +<p>I have a nasty little hole through my right +arm, but I am one of the lucky ones. My word, +it was hot for us. On the Tuesday night when I +got my little lot, what I saw put me in mind of a +farmer’s machine cutting grass, as the Germans +fell just like it. We only lost nine poor fellows, +and the German losses amounted to 1,500 and +2,000. So you can guess what it was like. As +they were shot down others took their place, as +there were thousands of them. The best friend +is your rifle with the bayonet. But I soon had +mine blown to pieces. How it happened I don’t +know.... I got a bullet through the top of my +hat. I will bring my hat home and show you. +I felt it go through, but it never as much as +bruised my head. I had then no rifle, so I was +obliged to keep down my head. The bullets +were whirling over me by the hundred. I stopped +until they got a bit slower, and then I got up and +was trying to pull a fellow away that had been +shot through the head when I managed to receive +a bullet through my arm. When I looked in +the direction of the enemy I could see them<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_48">48</a></span> +coming by the thousand. Off I went. I bet I +should easily have won the mile that night. I +got into the hospital at Landricca amid shot and +shell, which were flying by as fast as you like. +I got my arm done, and was put to bed. All +that night the enemy were trying to blow up the +hospital, where they had to turn out the lights +so that the Germans could not get the correct +range. Then we were taken away in R.A.M.C. +vans to Guise, where we slept on the station +platform after a nice supper which the French +provided.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 21.—From Sergeant Griffiths, of the Welsh +Regiment, to his parents at Swansea:</i></h3> + +<p>The fighting at Mons was terrible, and it was +here that our 4th and 5th Divisions got badly +knocked, but fought well. Our artillery played +havoc with them. About 10 o’clock on Monday +we were suddenly ordered to quit, and quick, too, +and no wonder. They were ten to one. Then +began that retreat which will go down in history +as one of the greatest and most glorious retirements +over done. Our boys were cursing because +our backs were towards them; but when the +British did turn, my word, what a game! The +3rd Coldstreams should be named “3rd Cold<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_49">49</a></span> +Steels,” and no error. Their bayonet charge was +a beauty.</p> + +<p class="p2">Among numerous other such letters that have +been published up and down the country is this +in which a corporal of the North Lancashire +Regiment gives a graphic little picture of his +experiences to the <cite>Manchester City News</cite>:</p> + +<p class="p2">When we got near Mons the Germans were +nearer than we expected. They must have been +waiting for us. We had little time to make +entrenchments, and had to do the digging lying on +our stomachs. Only about 300 of the 1,000 I +was with got properly entrenched. The Germans +shelled us heavily, and I got a splinter in the leg. +It is nearly right now, and I hope soon to go back +again. We lost fairly heavily, nearly all from +artillery fire. Altogether I was fighting for +seventy-two hours before I was hit. The German +forces appeared to be never-ending. They +were round about us like a swarm of bees, and +as fast as one man fell, it seemed, there were +dozens to take his place.</p> + +<p class="p2">There is one in which James Scott, reservist, +tells his relatives at Jarrow that British soldiers +at Mons dropped like logs. The enemy were shot +down as they came up, but it was like knocking +over beehives—a hundred came up for every +one knocked down. He thought the Germans<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_50">50</a></span> +were the worst set of men he had ever seen. +Their cavalry drove women and children in front +of them in the streets of Mons so that the British +could not fire.</p> + +<p class="p2">A wounded non-commissioned officer of the +Pompadours, whose regiment left Wembley Park +a week before the fighting began, says that in +the four days’ battle commencing at Mons on +the Sunday, August 23rd, and lasting until +August 26th, they were continually under fire:</p> + +<p class="p2">We had to beat off several cavalry attacks as +well as infantry, and when the trouble seemed to +be over the Germans played on us with shrapnel +just like turning on a fire hose. Several of our +officers were hit on Wednesday. Heavy German +cavalry charged us with drawn sabres, and we +only had a minute’s warning “to prepare to receive +cavalry.” We left our entrenchments, and rallying +in groups, emptied our magazines into them as +they drew near. Men and horses fell in confused +heaps. It was a terrible sight. Still, on they +came. They brought their naked sabres to the +engage, and we could distinctly hear their words +of command made in that piercing, high tone of +voice which the Germans affect.</p> + +<p>The enemy had a terrible death roll before +their fruitless charge was completed, a thick line +of dead and wounded marking the ground over +which they had charged. We shot the wounded<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_51">51</a></span> +horses, to put them out of their misery, whilst our +ambulances set to work to render aid to the +wounded. Our Red Cross men make no distinction. +Friend and foe get the same medical +treatment, that’s where we score over the +Germans.</p> + +<p>If they had been Uhlans we should not have +spared them, as we owe them a grudge for rounding +up some Tommies who were bathing. They +took their clothes away, and tied the men to trees. +We swore to give them a warm time wherever we +met them.</p> + +<p class="p2">A wounded corporal writes:</p> + +<p>It looked as if we were going to be snowed +under. The mass of men that came at us was an +avalanche, and every one of us must have been +simply trodden to death and not killed by bullets +or shells when our cavalry charged into them on +the left wing, not 500 yards from the trench I was +in, and cut them up. Our lads did the rest, but +the shells afterwards laid low a lot of them.</p> + +<p class="p2">The following is an extract from a letter +received by a gardener from his son:</p> + +<p>You complained last year of the swarms of +wasps that destroyed your fruit. Well, dad, +they were certainly not larger in number than +the Germans who came for us. The Germans are +cowards when they get the bayonets at them. +A young lieutenant, I don’t know his name, was<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_52">52</a></span> +one of the coolest men I have ever seen, and didn’t +he encourage our chaps! I saw him bring down +a couple of Germans who were leading half a +company.</p> + +<p class="p2">A fact that stands out continually in these +tales of eye-witnesses is the overwhelming numbers +in which the Germans were hurled upon +them. One says they seemed to be rising up +endlessly out of the very ground, and as fast as +one mass was shot down another surged into +its place; the innumerable horde is compared +by various correspondents to “a great big battering-ram,” +to a gigantic swarm of wasps, to +a swarm of bees, to a flock of countless thousands +of sheep trying to rush out of a field; to the +unceasing pouring of peas out of a sack. It was +the sheer mass and weight of this onrush that +forced the small British army back on its systematic, +triumphant retreat, and probably the +most striking little sketch of this phase of the +conflict is that supplied by an Irish soldier invalided +to Belfast, which I include in the following +selection of hospital stories.</p> + +<p class="p2">The last few weeks have been like a dream to +me, says a wounded private of the Middlesex +Regiment. After we landed at Boulogne we +were magnificently treated, and everyone was in +the highest spirits. Then we set off on our<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_53">53</a></span> +marching. We were all anxious to have a slap +at the Germans. My word! If they only knew +in our country how the Germans are treating our +wounded there would be the devil to pay.</p> + +<p>It was somewhere in the neighbourhood of +Mons, I believe, that we got our first chance. We +had been marching for days with hardly any +sleep. When we took up our position the Germans +were nearer than we thought, because we +had only just settled down to get some rest when +there came the blinding glare of the searchlight. +This went away almost as suddenly as it appeared, +and it was followed by a perfect hail of bullets. +We lost a good many in the fight, but we were all +bitterly disappointed when we got the order to +retire. I got a couple of bullets through my leg, +but I hope it won’t be long before I get back +again. We never got near enough to use our +bayonets. I only wish we had done. Talk +about civilized warfare! Don’t you believe it. +The Germans are perfect fiends.</p> + +<h3>In Hospital.</h3> + +<p class="in0">(1) <i>At Southampton.</i></p> + +<p>The first batch of wounded soldiers arrived +at Netley on the 28th August, coming from +Southampton Docks by the hospital train. A +<cite>Daily Telegraph</cite> correspondent was one of a +quiet band of people who had waited silently<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_54">54</a></span> +for many long hours on the platform that runs +alongside the hospital for the arrival of the +disabled soldiers who had fought so heroically +at Mons; and this is his account of what he +saw:</p> + +<p class="p2">Colonel Lucas and staff were all in readiness. +Here were wheeling chairs, there stretchers. The +preparations for the reception of the broken +Tommies could not have been better, more +elaborate, or more humane. It was the humanity +of it all—the quiet consideration that told of +complete preparedness—that made not the least +moving chapter of the story that I have to tell. +And out of the train stern-faced men began to +hobble, many with their arms in a sling.</p> + +<p>Here was a hairless-faced, boyish-looking +fellow, with his head enveloped in snowy-white +bandages; his cheeks were red and healthy, his +eyes bright and twinkling. There was pain +written across his young face, but he walked erect +and puffed away at a cigarette. One man, with +arms half clinging round the neck of two injured +comrades, went limping to the reception-room, +his foot the size of three, and as he went by he +smiled and joked because he could only just +manage to get along.</p> + +<p>When the last of the soldiers able to walk +found his way into the hospital, there to be +refreshed with tea or coffee or soup, before he<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_55">55</a></span> +was sent to this or that ward, the more seriously +wounded were carried from the train. How +patient, how uncomplaining were these fellows! +One, stretched out on a mattress, with his foot +smashed, chatted and smoked until his turn +came to be wheeled away. And when the last +of these wounded heroes had been lifted out of the +train I took myself to the reception-room, and +there heard many stories that, though related +with the simplicity of the true soldier, were +wonderful.</p> + +<p>The wounded men were of all regiments and +spoke all dialects. They were travel-stained +and immensely tired. Pain had eaten deep lines +into many of their faces, but there were no really +doleful looks. They were faces that seemed to +say: “Here we are; what does it all matter; +it is good to be alive; it might have been worse.”</p> + +<p>I sat beside a private, named Cox. An old +warrior he looked. His fine square jaw was black +with wire-like whiskers. His eyes shone with the +fire of the man who had suffered, so it seemed, +some dreadful nightmare.</p> + +<p>“And you want me to tell you all about it. +Well, believe me, it was just hell. I have been +through the Boxer campaign; I went through +the Boer War, but I have never seen anything +so terrible as that which happened last Sunday. +It all happened so sudden. We believed that +the Germans were some fifteen miles away, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_56">56</a></span> +all at once they opened fire upon us with their +big guns.</p> + +<p>“Let me tell you what happened to my own +regiment. When a roll-call of my company was +taken there were only three of us answered, me +and two others.” When he had stilled his +emotion, he went on. “So unexpected and so +terrible was the attack of the enemy, and so +overwhelming were their numbers, that there +was no withstanding it.”</p> + +<p>Before fire was opened a German aeroplane +flew over our troops, and the deduction made +by Private Cox and several of his comrades, +with whom I chatted, was that the aeroplane +was used as a sort of index to the precise locality +of our soldiers, and, further, that the Germans, +so accurate was their gunnery, had been over +this particular battlefield before they struck a +blow, and so had acquired an intimate knowledge +of the country. Trenches that were dug by our +men served as little protection from the fire.</p> + +<p>Said Cox: “No man could have lived against +such a murderous attack. There was a rain of +lead, a deluge of lead, and, talk about being surprised, +well, I can hardly realise that, and still +less believe what happened.”</p> + +<p>By the side of Cox sat a lean, fair-haired, +freckle-faced private. “That’s right,” he said, +by way of corroborating Cox. “They were fair +devils,” chimed in an Irishman, who later told<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_57">57</a></span> +me that he came from Connemara. “You could +do nothing with them, but I say they are no +d—— good as riflemen.”</p> + +<p>“No, they’re not, Mike,” ventured a youth. +“We got within 400 yards of them, and they +couldn’t hit us.”</p> + +<p>“But,” broke in the man of Connemara, “they +are devils with the big guns, and their aim was +mighty good, too. If it had not been they +wouldn’t have damaged us as they have done.”</p> + +<p>A few yards away was another soldier, also +seated in a wheeling chair, with a crippled leg—a +big fine fellow he was. He told me his corps +had been ambushed, and that out of 120 only +something like twenty survived.</p> + +<p>On all hands I heard all too much to show +that the battle of Mons was a desperate affair. +Two regiments suffered badly, but there was no +marked disposition on the part of any of the +soldiers with whom I chatted to enlarge upon +the happenings of last week-end. Rather would +they talk more freely of the awful atrocities +perpetrated by the Germans.</p> + +<p>“Too awful for words,” one said. “Their +treatment of women will remain as a scandal +as long as the world lasts. We shall never forget; +we shall never forgive. I wish I was back +again at the front. Englishmen have only got +to realise what devilish crimes are being committed +by these Germans to want to go and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_58">58</a></span> +take a hand in the fight. Women were shot, and +so were young girls. In fact, it did not seem to +matter to the Germans who they killed, and they +seemed to take a delight in burning houses and +spreading terror everywhere.</p> + +<p>“I have got one consolation, I helped to +catch four German spies.”</p> + +<h3>In Hospital.</h3> + +<p class="in0">(2) <i>At Belfast.</i></p> + +<p>About 120 officers and men arrived in Belfast +on August 31st, direct from the Continent. +They were brought here, says the <cite>Daily Telegraph</cite> +local correspondent, to be near their friends, for +the men had been in Ulster for a long time before +leaving for the front, being stationed in Belfast +and later in Londonderry. They sailed from +this city for the theatre of war on August 14th, +to the number of 900. It was remarkable to +note how many of them were injured in the +legs and feet. All were conveyed to the hospital +at the Victoria Military Barracks. The men +were glad to see Belfast again, but those to whom +I spoke will be bitterly disappointed if they +do not get another opportunity for paying off +their score against the Germans.</p> + +<p>One soldier told me a plain straightforward +story, without any embellishments. What made<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_59">59</a></span> +his tale doubly interesting was the fact that he +spoke with the experience of a veteran, having +gone through the South African War.</p> + +<p>Where the Germans had the advantage, +he said, was in the apparently endless number +of reserves. No sooner did we dispose of one +regiment than another regiment took its place. +It just put me in mind of the Niagara Falls—the +terrible rush threatening to carry everything +before it.</p> + +<p>No force on earth could have withstood that +cataract, and the fact that our men only fell +back a little was the best proof of their strength. +At one stage there were, I am sure, six Germans +to every one of us. Yet we held our ground, and +would still have held it but for the fact that +after we had dealt with the men before us another +force came on, using the bodies of their dead +comrades as a carpet.</p> + +<p>The South African War was a picnic compared +with this, and on the way home I now and again +recoiled with horror as I thought of the awful +spectacle which was witnessed before we left the +front of piled-up bodies of the German dead. +We lost heavily, but the German casualties +must have been appalling.</p> + +<p>You must remember that for almost twenty-four +hours we bore the brunt of the attack, and +the desperate fury with which the Germans +fought showed that they believed if they were<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_60">60</a></span> +only once past the British forces the rest would +be easy. Not only so, but I am sure we had +the finest troops in the German army against +us.</p> + +<p>On the way out I heard some slighting comments +passed on the German troops, and no +doubt some of them are not worth much, but those +thrown at us were very fine specimens indeed. +I do not think they could have been beaten in +that respect.</p> + +<h3>In Hospital.</h3> + +<p class="in0">(3) <i>At Birmingham.</i></p> + +<p>About 120 English soldiers who had been +wounded in and around Mons arrived in Birmingham +on September 1st, and were removed +to the new university buildings at Bournbrook, +where facilities have been provided for dealing +with over 1,000 patients. The contingent +was the first batch to arrive. Though terribly +maimed, and looking broken and tired, the men +were cheerful. About twenty had to be carried, +but the majority of them were able to walk with +assistance.</p> + +<p>In the course of conversation with a <cite>Daily +Telegraph</cite> reporter a number of the men spoke +of the terrible character of the fighting. The +Germans, one man said, outnumbered us by<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_61">61</a></span> +100 to one. As we knocked them down, they +simply filled up their gaps and came on as +before.</p> + +<p>One of the Suffolk men stated that very few +were injured by shot wounds. Nearly all the +mischief was done by shells. The Germans, +he said, fired six at a time, and if you missed +one you got the others.</p> + +<p>One poor fellow, whose head was so smothered +in bandages that his features could not be seen, +remarked, “We could beat them with bladder-sticks +if it were not for the shells, which were +appalling. The effect could not be described.”</p> + +<p>A private of the West Kent Regiment, who +was through the Boer War, said there was never +anything like the fighting at Mons in South +Africa. That was a game of skittles by comparison.</p> + +<p class="p2">They came at us, he said, in great masses. +It was like shooting rabbits, only as fast as you +shot one lot down another lot took their place. +You couldn’t help hitting them. We had plenty +of time to take aim, and if we weren’t reaching +the Bisley standard all the time, we must have +done a mighty lot of execution. As to their +rifle fire, they couldn’t hit a haystack.</p> + +<p class="p2">A sergeant gunner of the Royal Field Artillery, +who was wounded at Tournai, owing to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_62">62</a></span> +an injury to his jaw was unable to speak, +but he wrote on a pad:</p> + +<p>I was on a flank with my gun and fired about +sixty rounds in forty minutes. We wanted +support and could not get it. It was about +500 English trying to save a flank attack, against, +honestly, I should say, 10,000. As fast as you +shot them down more came. But for their +aeroplanes they would be useless. I was firing +for one hour at from 1,500 yards down to 700 +yards, so you can tell what it was like.</p> + +<h3>In Hospital.</h3> + +<p class="in0">(4) <i>At London.</i></p> + +<p>All the heroism that has been displayed by +British troops in the present war will never +be known. A few individual cases may chance +to be heard of. Others will be known only to +the Recording Angel. Two instances of extraordinary +bravery are mentioned by a couple of +wounded soldiers lying in the London Hospital +in the course of a narrative of their own adventures.</p> + +<p>One of them, a splendid fellow of the Royal +West Kent Regiment, told a <cite>Daily Telegraph</cite> +reporter:</p> + +<p>We were in a scrubby position just outside +Mons from Saturday afternoon till Monday<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_63">63</a></span> +morning. After four hours each of our six +big guns was put out of action. Either the +gunners were killed or wounded, or the guns +themselves damaged. For the rest of the time—that +is, until Monday morning, when we +retired—we had to stick the German fire without +being able to retaliate. It was bad enough to +stand this incessant banging away, but it made +it worse not to be able to reply.</p> + +<p>All day Sunday and all Sunday night the +Germans continued to shrapnel us. At night +it was just hellish. We had constructed some +entrenchments, but it didn’t afford much cover +and our losses were very heavy. On Monday +we received the order to retire to the south +of the town, and some hours later, when the +roll-call was called, it was found that we had +300 dead alone, including four officers.</p> + +<p>Then an extraordinary thing happened. Me +and some of my pals began to dance. We +were just dancing for joy at having escaped +with our skins, and to forget the things we’d +seen a bit, when bang! and there came a shell +from the blue, which burst and got, I should +think, quite twenty of us.</p> + +<p>That’s how some of us got wounded, as we +thought we had escaped. Then another half-dozen +of us got wounded this way. Some of +our boys went down a street near by, and found +a basin and some water, and were washing their<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_64">64</a></span> +hands and faces when another shell burst above +them and laid most of them out.</p> + +<p>What happened to us happened to the +Gloucesters. Their guns, too, were put out of +action, and, like us, they had to stand the shell-fire +for hours and hours before they were told +to retire. What we would have done without +our second in command I don’t know.</p> + +<p>During the Sunday firing he got hit in the +head. He had two wounds through the cap in +the front and one or two behind, and lost a lot +of blood. Two of our fellows helped to bind up +his head, and offered to carry him back, but he +said, “It isn’t so bad. I’ll be all right soon.” +Despite his wounds and loss of blood, he carried +on until we retired on Monday. Then, I think, +they took him off to hospital.</p> + +<p class="p2">A stalwart chap of the Cheshires here broke in.</p> + +<p class="p2">Our Cheshire chaps were also badly cut +up. Apart from the wounded, several men got +concussion of the brain by the mere explosions. +It was awful! Under cover of their +murderous artillery fire, the German infantry +advanced to within three and five hundred +yards of our position. With that we were +given the order to fix bayonets, and stood up +for the charge. That did it for the German +infantry! They turned tail and ran for their +lives.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_65">65</a></span> +Our captain cried out, “Now you’ve got +’em, men!” But we hadn’t. Their artillery +begins with that to fire more hellish than ever, +and before you could almost think what to do a +fresh lots of the “sausages” came along, and +we had to beat a retreat.</p> + +<p>During the retreat one of our sergeants +was wounded and fell. With that our captain +runs back and tries to lift him. As he was +doing so he was struck in the foot, and fell over. +We thought he was done for, but he scrambles +up and drags the sergeant along until a couple +of us chaps goes out to help ’em in. You +should have seen his foot when he took his +boot off—I mean the captain. It wasn’t half +smashed.</p> + +<p class="p2">How a number of British troops made a dash +in the night to save some women and children +from the Germans was told by Lance-corporal +Tanner, of the 2nd Oxfordshire and Bucks +Light Infantry. On the Sunday the regiment +arrived at Mons.</p> + +<p class="p2">We took up our position in the trenches, +he said, and fought for some time. In the +evening the order came to retire, and we marched +back to Conde, with the intention of billeting +for the night and having a rest. Suddenly, +about midnight, we were ordered out, and set +off to march to the village of Douai, some miles<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_66">66</a></span> +away, as news had reached us that the Germans +were slaughtering the natives there.</p> + +<p>It was a thrilling march in the darkness, +across the unfamiliar country. We were liable +to be attacked at any moment, of course, but +everyone was keen on saving the women and +children, and hurried on. We kept the sharpest +lookout on all sides, but saw nothing of the +enemy.</p> + +<p>When we reached Douai a number of the +inhabitants rushed out to meet us. They were +overjoyed to see us, and speedily told what +the Germans had done. They had killed a +number of women and children. With fixed +bayonets we advanced into the village, and +we saw signs all around us of the cruelty of +the enemy.</p> + +<p class="p2">Private R. Wills, of the Highland Light Infantry, +who also took part in the march to the +village, here continued the story.</p> + +<p class="p2">We found that most of the Germans had +not waited for our arrival, and there were only +a few left in the place. However, we made sure +that none remained there.</p> + +<p>We started a house-to-house search. Our +men went into all the houses, and every now +and then they found one or two of the enemy +hiding in a corner or upstairs. Many of them +surrendered at once, others did not.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_67">67</a></span> +When we had cleared the village, some of +us lay down on the pavements, and snatched +an hour’s sleep. At 3.30 we marched away +again, having rid the place of the enemy, and, +getting back to camp, were glad to turn in.</p> + +<p>A sergeant of the Royal Field Artillery, who +was wounded by shrapnel just outside Mons +village, said that the German artillery fire was +good; once the enemy’s gunners got the range +they did well.</p> + +<p>Their shooting was every bit as good as +ours, and although our battery made excellent +practice, three of our men were killed, and +twenty out of thirty-six were wounded. I lay +on the field all night, and was rescued the next +morning. Fortunately, the Germans did not +come and find me during those long hours of +loneliness.</p> + +<p class="p2">In such tales of these men in hospital, and in +the letters they have written home, there is a +common agreement that the German rifle shooting +is beneath contempt—“they shoot from the +hip and don’t seem to aim at anything in particular;” +but their artillery practice is spoken of +with respect and admiration. The German +artillery is very good, writes Private Geradine, +of the 1st Northumberland Fusiliers, but their +aeroplanes help them a lot. It is a pretty sight<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_68">68</a></span> +to see the shells burst in the night, he adds—it’s +like Guy Fawkes Day!</p> + +<p class="p2">I like too, such robust cheerfulness and gay +good-humour in face of the horrors of death as +sounds through the letter of Sapper Bradley:</p> + +<p class="p2">I have never seen our lads so cheery as they +are under great trials. You couldn’t help being +proud of them if you saw them lying in the +trenches cracking jokes or smoking while they +take pot shots at the Germans.... We have +very little spare time now, but what we have we +pass by smoking concerts, sing-songs, and story-telling. +Sometimes we have football for a change, +with a German helmet for a ball, and to pass the +time in the trenches have invented the game of +guessing where the next German shell will drop. +Sometimes we have bets on it, and the man who +guesses correctly the greatest number of times +takes the stakes.</p> + +<p>And surely no less do I like the equally courageous +but more sombre outlook of the Scottish +Private who complained of the famous retreat +from Mons, It was “Retire! retire! retire!” +when our chaps were longing to be at them. But +they didn’t swear about it, because being out +there and seeing what we saw makes you feel +religious.</p> + +<p>I like that wonderful diary kept by a driver of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_69">69</a></span> +the 4th Ammunition Column, 3rd section, R.F.A. +It was sent over from Paris by Mr. Harold Ashton, +<cite>The Daily News</cite> correspondent, and is as naïvely +and minutely realistic as if it were a page out of +Defoe. The driver’s interests are naturally +centred in his horses, they hold the first place in +his regard, the excitements of the war coming +second. He records how he went from Hendon +to Southampton on the 21st August:</p> + +<p class="p2">Got horses on board all right, though the +friskiest of them kicked a lot. Got to Havre +safe. Food good—rabbit and potatoes and +plenty of beer, not our English sort, but the +colour of cyder. Us four enjoyed ourselves with +the family, had a good time, and left ten o’clock +next day well filled up. Our objective was +Compiègne. We got through all right, watering +our horses on the way from pumps and taps at +private houses. The people were awful kind, +giving us quantities of pears, and filling our water-bottles +with beer. That was all right. Our +welcome was splendid everywhere. At Compiègne +we got into touch with the Germans. +Very hot work. We marched from Compiègne +about eleven o’clock on the 31st, which was Sunday. +The way was hard. Terrible steep hills +which knocked out our older and weaker horses. +Collick broke out among them, too, and that was +bad. We lost a good many.... Slept until<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_70">70</a></span> +5 a.m. and then marched on again, still retreating. +Hot as ——. Nothing to eat or drink. Plenty +of tea, but nothing to boil it with. At last we got +some dry biscuits and some tins of marmalade. +Bill ——, whose teeth were bad, went near mad +with toothache after the jam.... No dead +horses, thank God, to-day. I hope we have +checked that —— collick, but my horse fell into +a ditch going through the wood and could not get +out for over an hour. I couldn’t go for help, +because the Germans had got the range of the +place and their shells were ripping overhead like +blazes. Poor old Dick (the horse), he was that +fagged out by the long march. At last I got +him out and went on, and by luck managed +to pick up my pals.... The Germans were +lambing in at us with their artillery, and poor old +Dick got blowed up. I thank God I wasn’t on +him just then. Sept. 2.—More fighting and worser +than ever. I don’t believe we shall ever +get to Paris.... Now we come to Montagny, +and fighting all the time. Rabbits and apples +to eat gallore, but still no money, and no +good if we had because we carnt spend it. +Sept. 3.—We progressed this day four miles +in twelve hours. Took the wrong road, and had +to crawl about the woods on our stummoks like +snakes to dodge the German snipers. We had one +rifle between four of us, and took it in turns to +have goes. We shot one blighter and took another<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_71">71</a></span> +prisoner. They was both half starved and covered +with soars. Then the rifle jammed, and we had +nothing to defend ourselves with. At last we +found the main body again. They wanted more +horses, and we were just bringing them up and +putting them to the guns when a German areyplane +came over us and flue round pretty low. The +troops tried to fetch him down, and some bullets +went through the wings, but then he got too high. +He dropped a bomb in the middle of us, but it +exploded very weak and nobody was hurt. Next +day we started on a night march, and got to +Lagny Thorigny, and camped outside the town, +where the people fed us on rabbits again. I said +I was sick of rabbits, and me and Bill walked +acrost to a farmhouse and borrowed three chickens, +which we cooked. It was fine.... Outside +Lagny there was more fierce fighting—20 miles of +it—and the Germans were shot down like birds. +Sept. 3 (continued).—Firing is still going on, but +it is not so fierce, though scouts have come in and +told us there are 10,000 Germans round us this +day. To-night I got two ounces of Navy Cut. +It was prime. Sept. 8.—We are marching on +further away from Paris. We shall never get +there, I guess. Sept. 12.—In the village of Crecy. +Plenty of food and houses to sleep into. Here we +have got to stay until further orders. Collick still +very bad.</p> + +<p>The calm matter-of-fact air with which he<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_72">72</a></span> +encounters whatever comes to him, the keen joy +he takes in small pleasures by the way; his +philosophic acceptance of the fate of “poor old +Dick”—the whole thing is so unruffled, so self-possessed, +so Pepysian in its egoism and so +artlessly humorous that one hopes this phlegmatic +driver will keep a full diary of his campaignings, +and that Mr. Ashton will secure and publish it.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_73">73</a></span></p> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="vspace"><a id="III"></a>III<br /> + +<span class="subhead"><span class="smcap">The Destruction of Louvain</span></span></h2> +</div> + +<div class="poem-container"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="iq">“<i>Such food a tyrant’s appetite demands.</i>”<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="attrib"><span class="smcap">Wordsworth.</span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<p>The stupid arrogance of the German military +caste has always made them ridiculous in the +eyes of decent human creatures; it was surprising, +amusing, and yet saddening, too, to +see an intelligent people strutting and playing +such war-paint-and-feathers tricks before high +heaven, but it appears that the primitive impulses +that survive in their character are stronger and +go deeper than we had suspected. There are +brave and chivalrous spirits among Germany’s +officers and men; that goes without saying; +but the savage and senseless barbarities that +have marked her conduct of the present war +will make her name a byword for infamy as long +as it is remembered. There seems no doubt—the +charges are too many and too widely spread—that +her troops have murdered the wounded, +have shot down women and children, have even<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_74">74</a></span> +used them as shields, driving them in front of +their firing line; they have ruthlessly murdered +unarmed civilians, and have blasted farmsteads +and villages into ashes on the flimsiest provocation; +sometimes, so far as one can learn, +without waiting for any provocation whatever. +Even if their hands were clean of that innocent +blood, the wanton, insensate destruction of such +a city as Louvain is sufficient of itself to put +them outside the pale of civilised societies. No +doubt they were smarting with humiliation that +they had been so long delayed breaking through +the stubborn opposition of the Belgians at Liège; +but Louvain was an unfortified city and they +were allowed to take peaceable possession of it. +Nevertheless, on August 25th whilst the fighting +round Mons was at its hottest and Russia was +sweeping farther and farther over the frontiers +of East Prussia, in some sort of burst of vengeful +frenzy they laid one of the loveliest old cities +of the world in ruins, burnt or shattered most of +its priceless art treasures, and left its citizens +homeless. Of course they have been busy ever +since trying to cover up their shame with excuses, +but such a wanton crime is too great and too +glaringly obvious to be hidden or excused.</p> + +<p>Four impressively realistic descriptions of what +happened when the Germans thus went mad in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_75">75</a></span> +Louvain have been published in the <cite>Daily Telegraph</cite>:</p> + +<p class="p2">1. From a <cite>Daily Telegraph</cite> Folkestone Correspondent, +Saturday, August 29th:</p> + +<p class="p2">Among the refugees arriving here to-day were +women and children from Louvain and soldiers +from Liège, all narrating thrilling adventures. +Some of the refugees had obviously hurriedly +deserted their homes, wrapping a few of their +belongings in sheets of newspaper.</p> + +<p>One woman from Louvain tore down the +curtains from her windows, wrapped them round +some wearing apparel, and ran from her house +with her two children. In the street she became +involved in a stampede of men, women, and +children tearing away from the burning town, +whither she knew not. This woman’s story was +so disjointed, so interspersed with hysterical sobs +and exclamations, that it is impossible to make a +full and coherent narrative of it. Periodically +she clasped her children, gazed round upon the +English faces, and thanked God and bemoaned +her fate alternately.</p> + +<p>Although suffering from extreme nervous excitement, +another woman had intervals of comparative +calmness during which she described +her experiences as follows:</p> + +<p>“Ah! m’sieu,” she exclaimed, “I will tell<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_76">76</a></span> +you, yes, of the burning of Louvain. We had +pulled down some of the buildings so that the +Germans should not mount guns on them when +they came. I believe that was the reason. We +were in a state of terror because we had heard of +the cruelties of the Germans.”</p> + +<p>Every time the poor woman referred to the +Germans she paused to utter maledictions upon +them.</p> + +<p>“Well,” she proceeded, “they came, and all +we had heard about them was not so bad as we +experienced. In the streets people were cruelly +butchered, and then on all sides flames began to +rise. We were prepared for what we had regarded +as the worst, but never had we anticipated that +they would burn us in our homes.</p> + +<p>“People rushed about frantic to save their +property. Pictures of relatives were snatched +from the walls, clothing was seized, and the +people were demented.</p> + +<p>“What was the excuse given? Well, they +said our people had shot at them, but that was +absolutely untrue. The real reason was the pulling +down of the buildings. My house was burning +when I left it with my three children, and here +I am with them safe in England, beautiful England. +But what we have suffered! We were part of a +crowd which left the burning town, and kept +walking without knowing where we were going. +Miles and miles we trudged, I am told we walked<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_77">77</a></span> +over seventy miles before we came to a railway. +I never regarded a railway as I did then. I +wanted to bow down and kiss the rails. I fell +exhausted, having carried my children in turn. +Footsore, broken-hearted, after the first joy of +sighting the railway, I felt my head whirling, +and I wondered whether it was all worth while. +Then I thought of my deliverance, and thanked +God.</p> + +<p>“What did Louvain look like? Like what +it was, a mass of flame devouring our homes, our +property—to some, perhaps, our relatives. It +was pitiful to behold. Most of us women were +deprived of our husbands. They had either +fallen or were fighting for their country. In the +town everybody who offered any opposition was +killed, and everyone found to be armed in any +way was shot. Wives saw their husbands shot +in the streets.</p> + +<p>“I saw the burgomaster shot, and I saw +another man dragged roughly away from his +weeping wife and children and shot through the +head. Well, we got a train and reached Boulogne, +and now for the first time we feel really safe.”</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<p>2. From a <cite>Daily Telegraph</cite> Rotterdam correspondent, +Sunday, August 30th.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_78">78</a></span> +The following account of the appalling and +ruthless sacking of Louvain by the Germans +is given by a representative of the <cite>Nieuwe +Rotterdamsche Courant</cite>, who himself witnessed +the outrages:</p> + +<p class="p2">I arrived at Louvain on Tuesday afternoon, +and, accompanied by a German officer, made +my way through the town. Near the station +were the Commander and Staff and many of the +military, for a food and ammunition train had +just arrived. Suddenly shots rang out from +houses in the neighbourhood of the station. In +a moment the shooting was taken up from houses +all over the town.</p> + +<p>From the window of the third floor of an +hotel opposite the station a machine gun opened +fire. It was impossible to know which of the +civilians had taken part in the shooting, and +from which houses they had fired. Therefore +the soldiers went into all the houses, and immediately +there followed the most terrible scenes of +street fighting. Every single civilian found with +weapons, or suspected of firing, was put to death +on the spot. The innocent suffered with the +guilty.</p> + +<p>There was no time for exhaustive inquiry. +Old men, sick people, women were shot. In the +meanwhile, part of the town was shelled by +artillery. Many buildings were set on fire by the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_79">79</a></span> +shells. On others petrol was poured and a match +applied. The German officer advised me to go +away, as several houses being still intact more +firing was expected.</p> + +<p>Under a strong escort two groups of men +and women arrived, each a hundred strong. +They were hostages. They were stood in rows by +the station, and every time a soldier was shot in +the town ten of these pitiful civilians were slaughtered. +There was no mercy. Tears and pleadings +were in vain. The good suffered with the +bad. At night the scene was terrible, burning +buildings shedding a lurid glow over this town, +which was running with tears of blood.</p> + +<p>This was no time for sleep. The sight of this +terrible awfulness drove away all thoughts and +desire for rest. Towards dawn the soldiers took +possession of all buildings which had not been +destroyed.</p> + +<p>With the rising of the sun I walked on the +boulevards, and saw them strewn with bodies, +many of them being of old people and priests. +Leaving Louvain for Tirlemont one passed continuously +through utterly devastated country.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<p>A Dutchman who escaped from Louvain says +that when the German artillery began to demolish +the houses and the German soldiers<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_80">80</a></span> +began looting everything he and his little son +hid in a cellar beneath a pile of pneumatic tyres. +One woman took refuge in a pit, in which water +was up to her waist. Such was the terrible +plight of the civilians in Louvain. Peeping out +they saw that neighbours had been driven to +the roof of a burning building, where they perished.</p> + +<p>While still concealed in the cellar the Dutchman +and his son discovered to their horror that +the house above them was in flames. The situation +was terrible, as the people who dared to +leave their houses were shot like rabbits leaving +burrows. They heard floor by floor, and then +the roof, crash down above them. The situation +was desperate. It was impossible to remain in +the cellar. Driven out by dire necessity, they +fled. They were immediately stopped by military +rifles at the “present.”</p> + +<p>“Do not fire, I am German,” said the Dutchman +in German, seized with a sudden inspiration. +This secured his safe conduct to the railway +station. The journey through the town +was, said this refugee, “like walking through +hell.” From burning houses he heard agonised +cries of those perishing in the conflagrations. +While he was waiting at the station fifty people +arrived there, driven by troops, who asserted that +they found them hiding in houses from which<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_81">81</a></span> +shots had been fired. These people swore by all +they held sacred they were innocent, but notwithstanding +all were shot. The Dutchman is +of opinion that the first firing was not by civilians, +but by the German outpost on German +soldiers retreating to Louvain from Malines.</p> + +<p><i>Note:</i>—There is no confirmation whatever of +the Dutch correspondent’s assertion with regard +to the firing on the German troops. On the +contrary it has been expressly said by the Belgian +Government that the Germans fired on their own +men by mistake.</p> + +<div id="ip_81" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 27.9375em;"> + <img src="images/i_080.jpg" width="447" height="600" alt="" /> + <div class="caption"> + +<div class="floatl"><i>Drawn by E. Matania.</i></div> +<div class="floatr"><i>Copyright of The Sphere.</i></div> +<p class="floatc"><span class="smcap">German Soldiers Driving the Inhabitants of Louvain before them +during the Sacking of the Town.</span></p></div></div> + +<p class="p2">3. From a <cite>Daily Telegraph</cite> Rotterdam Correspondent, +Monday, August 31st:</p> + +<p class="p2">“With a crowd of other men, I was marched +out of Louvain, and at nightfall ordered into a +church,” said an escaped Dutchman to a <cite>Nieuwe +Rotterdamsche Courant</cite> representative. “All was +dark, till suddenly, through the windows, I saw +the lurid glow of the neighbouring burning houses. +I heard the agonised cries of people tortured by +the flames. Six priests moved among us, giving +absolution. Next morning the priests were shot—why, +I know not. We were released, and +allowed to go to Malines. We were compelled to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_82">82</a></span> +walk with our hands in the air for fear of arms +being concealed.”</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<p>A Dutchman who has arrived at Breda from +Louvain gives the <cite>Nieuwe Rotterdamsche Courant</cite> +the following account of the massacre:</p> + +<p class="p2">Several German soldiers were billeted on us, +and just as we were sitting down to the midday +meal on August 25th the alarm was sounded and +the soldiers rushed out. Immediately firing +started, and, knowing the terrible consequences +of civilians appearing in the streets at such times, +we sought refuge in the cellar. Next morning +we attempted to reach the railway station. We +were arrested.</p> + +<p>My wife was taken away from me, and the +Mayor, the Principal of the University, and I, +with other men, were taken to a goods shed and +our hands bound. I saw 300 men and boys +marched to the corner of the Boulevarde van +Tienen, and every one was massacred. The +heads of police were shot. We were then marched +towards Herent, and on the way the soldiers +thought the enemy was approaching, and ordered +us to kneel down. Then they took cover behind +us. Only after many such hardships were we +permitted to return to Louvain and escape by +train.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_83">83</a></span></p> + +<p class="p2">4. From a <cite>Daily Telegraph</cite> Rotterdam correspondent, +Wednesday, September 2nd:</p> + +<p>A Dutchman who has just arrived at Breda +from Louvain gives the following vivid description +of his terrible experiences in Louvain, +where he was present at the burning of the +city:</p> + +<p>We Dutchmen in Louvain at first had nothing +to fear from the German soldiers, but all the +houses abandoned by their owners were ransacked, +notwithstanding the warnings from the military +authorities forbidding the troops to pillage. In +Louvain, as in all other towns they have occupied, +the Germans imprisoned as hostages of war the +Burgomaster, two magistrates, and a number of +influential citizens.</p> + +<p>Before the Germans entered the town the +Civic Guard had been disarmed, and all weapons +in the possession of the population had to be given +up. Even toy guns and toy pistols and precious +collections of old weapons, bows and arrows, and +other antique arms useless for any kind of modern +warfare had to be surrendered, and all these +things—sometimes of great personal value to +the owner—have since been destroyed by the +Germans. The value of one single private collection +has been estimated at about £1,000. +From the pulpits the priests urged the people +to keep calm, as that was the only way to prevent +harm being done to them.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_84">84</a></span> +A few days after the entry of the German +troops, the military authorities agreed to cease +quartering their men in private houses, in return +for a payment of 100,000 francs (£4,000) per day. +On some houses between forty and fifty men +had been billeted. After the first payment of +the voluntary contribution the soldiers camped +in the open or in the public buildings. The +beautiful rooms in the Town Hall, where the +civil marriages take place, were used as a stable +for cavalry horses.</p> + +<p class="p2">At first everything the soldiers bought was +paid for in cash or promissory notes, but later +this was altered. Soldiers came and asked for +change, and when this was handed to them +they tendered in return for the hard cash a piece +of paper—a kind of receipt.</p> + +<p class="p2">On Sunday, the 23rd, I and some other +influential people in the town were roused from +our beds. We were informed that an order had +been given that 250 mattresses, 200 lbs. of coffee, +250 loaves of bread, and 500 eggs, must be on +the market-place within an hour. On turning +out we found the Burgomaster standing on the +market-place, and crowds of citizens, half naked, +or in their night attire, carrying everything they +could lay hands on to the market, that no harm +might befall their Burgomaster. After this had +been done the German officer in command told<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_85">85</a></span> +us that his orders had been misinterpreted, and +that he only wanted the mattresses.</p> + +<p>On Tuesday, the 25th, many troops left the +town. We had a few soldiers in our house. At +six o’clock, when everything was ready for dinner, +alarm signals sounded, and the soldiers rushed +through the streets, shots whistled through the +air, cries and groans arose on all sides; but we +did not dare leave our house, and took refuge +in the cellar, where we stayed through long and +fearful hours. Our shelter was lighted up by the +reflection from the burning houses. The firing +continued unceasingly, and we feared that at any +moment our houses would be burnt over our +heads. At break of day I crawled from the +cellar to the street door, and saw nothing but +a raging sea of fire.</p> + +<p>At nine o’clock the shooting diminished, and +we resolved to make a dash to the station. Abandoning +our home and all our goods except what +we could carry, and taking all the money we had, +we rushed out. What we saw on our way to the +station is hardly describable, everything was +burning, the streets were covered with bodies +shot dead and half-burnt. Everywhere proclamations +had been posted, summoning every man to +assist in quenching the flames, and the women +and children to stay inside the houses. The +station was crowded with fugitives, and I was +just trying to show an officer my legitimation<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_86">86</a></span> +papers when the soldiers separated me from my +wife and children.</p> + +<p>All protests were useless, and a lot of us were +marched off to a big shed in the goods yard, from +where we could see the finest buildings of the city, +the most beautiful historical monuments, being +burned down.</p> + +<p>Shortly afterwards German soldiers drove +before them 300 men and lads to the corner of +the Boulevard van Tienen and the Maria Theresia +Street, opposite the Café Vermalen. There they +were shot. The sight filled us with horror. The +Burgomaster, two magistrates, the Rector of the +University, and all police officials had been shot +already.</p> + +<p>With our hands bound behind our backs we +were then marched off by the soldiers, still without +having seen our wives or children. We went +through the Juste de Litsh Street, along the +Diester Boulevard, across the Vaart and up the +hill.</p> + +<p>From the Mont Cesar we had a full view of +the burning town, St. Peter in flames, while the +troops incessantly sent shot after shot into the +unfortunate town. We came through the village +of Herent—one single heap of ruins—where +another troop of prisoners, including half-a-dozen +priests, joined us. Suddenly, about ten o’clock, +evidently as the result of some false alarm, we +were ordered to kneel down, and the soldiers stood<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_87">87</a></span> +behind us with their rifles ready to fire, using us +as a shield. But fortunately for us nothing +happened.</p> + +<p>After a delay of half-an-hour, our march was +continued. No conversation was allowed, and +the soldiers continually maltreated us. One +soldier struck me with all his might with the +heavy butt-end of his rifle. I could hardly walk +any further, but I had to. We were choked with +thirst, but the Germans wasted their drinking +water without offering us a drop.</p> + +<p>At seven o’clock we arrived at Camperhout, +en route for Malines. We saw many half-burnt +dead bodies—men, women, and children. +Frightened to death and half-starved, we were +locked up in the church, and there later joined +by another troop of prisoners from the surrounding +villages.</p> + +<p>At ten o’clock the church was lighted up by +burning houses. Again shots whistled through +the air, followed by cries and groans.</p> + +<p>At five o’clock next morning, all the priests +were taken out by the soldiers and shot, together +with eight Belgian soldiers, six cyclists, and two +gamekeepers. Then the officer told us that we +could go back to Louvain. This we did, but +only to be recaptured by other soldiers, who +brought us back to Camperhout. From there we +were marched to Malines, not by the high road, +but along the river. Some of the party fell into<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_88">88</a></span> +the water, but all were rescued. After thirty-six +hours of ceaseless excitement and danger we +arrived at Malines, where we were able to buy some +food, and from there I escaped to Holland. I +still do not know where my wife and children +are.—<cite>Reuter’s Special Service.</cite></p> + +<p class="p2">So far as available evidence goes, it seems +clear enough that by some misunderstanding +the German soldiers fired upon each other in the +town, and then made the unhappy townsfolk +pay the price of their tragic blundering. There +are hopes that the beautiful old Hotel de Ville +escaped the general holocaust; otherwise Louvain +and its ancient glories of art and architecture +are things of the past.</p> + +<p class="p2">“Louvain is no longer anything but a heap of +cinders.... In the name of Europe, of which +you have till now been one of the most illustrious +champions,” writes the well-known French +novelist, Romain Roland, in an open letter +addressed to the German dramatist, Gerhart +Hauptmann, “in the name of civilisation, for +which the greatest of men have been fighting for +centuries—in the name of the very honor of the +Germanic race, I adjure you, Gerhart Hauptmann, +and the German intellectual élite, among whom +I count so many friends, to protest against this +crime. If you do not, it can only mean one of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_89">89</a></span> +two things, either that you approve, or that you +are impotent to raise your voice against the Huns +who rule you. In the latter case, how can you +still pretend that you are fighting for the cause of +human liberty and progress?... Are you the +descendants of Goethe, or of Attila?”</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_90">90</a></span></p> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="vspace"><a id="IV"></a>IV<br /> + +<span class="subhead"><span class="smcap">The Fight in the North Sea</span></span></h2> +</div> + +<div class="poem-container"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="iq">“<i>Strong Mother of a Lion line,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Be proud of these strong sons of thine.</i>”<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="attrib"><span class="smcap">Tennyson.</span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<p>In the three weeks that followed on the declaration +of war, tidings came to us from time to time +of how our ships were chasing and sinking the +enemy’s cruisers, capturing his merchantmen +and keeping the ocean-highways clear for our +own and neutral commerce; but no word reached +us from the great British fleet that was keeping +watch and ward in the North Sea, waiting sleeplessly +for the German Navy that was sheltered +behind the impregnable fort of Heligoland to +dash out and make its loudly threatened raid +upon our coasts. We heard no word of those +guardian sailormen, but we slept peacefully in +our beds at night, confident in their strength, +their courage, their alertness. Then suddenly, +on the 28th August, whilst the British and French +armies were in the heat of their strategic retreat<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_91">91</a></span> +from Mons, news of our seamen’s dashing fight +and victory in the North Sea flashed through +the land. They had grown weary of waiting, +and as the German was too discreet to venture +forth to the attack they had slipped into his +fastness under cover of the dark and hunted +him out. Until it is possible to compile a connected, +orderly narrative, the tale of that brilliant +engagement is best told in the letters of the men +who had part in it:</p> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 22.—From Albert Roper, first-class petty +officer of H.M. cruiser “Talbot,” to his +brother at Leeds:</i></h3> + +<p>I cannot give you any news about our movements. +It is against the rules to do so, and it’s +a jolly good job, too, for if it was not so, things +would leak out, and that is just what we do +not want. We are waiting patiently for Willie’s +fleet to come out to enable our chaps to have +a little practice. We try to make ourselves +as happy as we can in the shape of a sing-song +occasionally. These evenings are well appreciated.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 23.—From Seaman Wilson, of the “Bacchante,” +to his wife at Hunslet:</i></h3> + +<p>You will have read of our victory in the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_92">92</a></span> +North Sea. It was fine. Our ship brought the +dead and wounded and the prisoners back. A +grim job it was, too. I only wish the whole +German fleet would come out. We may get a +chance of coming home soon. Their firing is +rotten, whilst our men behind the guns are perfect. +They get a hit every time.</p> + +<p>The bounders won’t come out. That was +the reason our ships had to try and drive them +out. You see the place is all mined, and if a ship +runs into one of these mines it means destruction.</p> + +<p>The commander of the <i>Liberty</i>, a torpedo +boat destroyer, asked his ship’s company if +they would volunteer to go up Kiel Harbour +with him, and every man said “Yes,” although it +looked certain death. Up they went, and got +under the forts of Heligoland and let rip at the +German cruisers in the harbour. One of the +wounded sailors of the <i>Liberty</i> told me that +the shells fired at them were enough to sink a +fleet. Our ship had only one torpedo and one +round of ammunition left. So they turned round +to come out, when a shrapnel shell struck the +<i>Liberty’s</i> mast, killing the gallant commander +and three others. The coxswain, although +wounded, brought the ship safely to our fleet +that was waiting outside. We pray to God +that we may come off victorious, and I am +confident we shall, as every man jack in the +fleet has the heart of a lion.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_93">93</a></span></p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 24.—From a Welsh gunner on the +“Arethusa”:</i></h3> + +<p>Just a few lines to let you know how the +war is going on. I cannot say much, as correspondence +is strictly secret and letters are likely +to be opened. The Commodore turned over to +this ship last Wednesday, and we were in action +on Friday at 7.45 a.m. and finished a stiff eight-hours’ +engagement, our loss being eleven killed +and fifteen injured in this ship alone.</p> + +<p>We were done after the fight, engines disabled, +and had to be towed to Chatham. One +man was all that was left at my gun. But still, +after all, we saw them off. We blew them to +——. Three fights we had. As soon as we are +patched up we shall be off again.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 25.—From Gunner John Meekly, of Leeds:</i></h3> + +<p>Been in battle, and, wonder of wonders, haven’t +scored a scratch. My ship, as you know, is the +<i>Arethusa</i>—“Saucy Arethusa” as history knows +her. She was the first there, and the first that +shot home. It was her that made them come out, +and her that took the most prominent part, as all +the ship’s company know only too well. Now we +are in dry dock.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_94">94</a></span> +We had to sacrifice ourselves almost to do +what we did do—to get them out of their shells. +Not only were submarines and mines a menace, +but also the fire from the forts. We got within +their range, and our ship suffered the most. +We have got a fearless admiral, and at the same +time a decent fellow.</p> + +<p>I saw an account in the papers when we +got in dock, and I was very pleased with it, +because another ship had been mistaken for us. +The name of our commodore is Tyrwhitt.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 26.—From Midshipman Hartley, of H.M. +battle-cruiser “Lion,” to his parents at Burton-on-Trent:</i></h3> + +<p>At last we have had a taste of gunfire, but +it was only a taste. We ran into three light +German cruisers. Two of them were sunk, and +one managed to make off in a sinking condition +and badly on fire forward and aft. Of course, +their guns had about the same effect on us as +a daisy air-rifle. The funny thing, which you +should have seen, was all the stokers grubbing +about after the action looking for bits of shell.</p> + +<p>The Germans fought awfully well and bravely, +but the poor beggars hadn’t a dog’s chance of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_95">95</a></span> +living through it. The <i>Mainz</i> was the name of one +of those sunk. Two of their destroyers were also +sunk.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 27.—From a Scottish seaman (Published +in “The Scotsman”):</i></h3> + +<p>It was a sight worth seeing. We chased two +German destroyers of the “S” class, one of which +went on fire, and the other was sunk by eight +British destroyers, including the <i>Defender</i>. We +chased them for about four hours, and one showed +great pluck as the crew refused to haul down +the flag, and she sank with the German +flag flying. When she sank, and even before it, +the sailors were swimming towards the British +ships, shouting in broken English that they had +surrendered, and appealing for help. It was a +terrible sight to see the wounded in the water, +and we assisted in throwing out lifebelts and +ropes to them, while the whaler and a skiff were +also lowered, together with small boats from the +other British vessels. While engaged in picking +up the wounded and other survivors, we were +fired on by a big four-funnelled German cruiser, +so that we had to leave our two boats. We +watched the cruiser firing seven or eight 11-inch +guns, which made us keep going well ahead to +keep out of the way.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_96">96</a></span> +A piece of shell struck one of the gun’s crew +on the head, and dropped at my feet, and we had +to keep dodging the shells round the bridge. A +light cruiser at last came to the rescue, for the +destroyer’s guns were no use against those of the +Germans’. Our cruiser sank the German cruiser, +and a good many of the enemy’s boats escaped. +About 12 o’clock on Saturday one of the latest +submarines signalled that she had saved the +boat’s crew (9 men and 1 officer) while following +the big cruiser to torpedo her. It was believed +these fellows had been lost, and their mates on +board never dreamt of seeing them again. Some +German survivors were put aboard a destroyer, +and they were cheered by the British tars who +were anxious to hear the news from them. A +German stoker said they did not want to fight +England, and it was too much Germany fighting +so many countries. It was terrible to hear the +cries of the wounded in the water, and we did +not get a chance to pick them up. The men +on the sinking destroyer stuck to their guns to the +last, and they were firing at their own men who +dived for our ships. Some had lifebelts on, and +the officers tried to frighten them by saying the +British would put them in front of their guns. +We had only two hurt.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<div id="ip_96" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 25.625em;"> + <img src="images/i_096.jpg" width="410" height="600" alt="" /> + <div class="caption"> + +<div class="floatl"><i>Drawn by Philip Dadd, from a sketch<br /> +by G. H. Davis.</i></div> +<div class="floatr"><i>Copyright of The Sphere.</i></div> +<p class="floatc"><span class="smcap">Rescued by Submarine. A Strange Incident during the Naval +Action off Heligoland.</span></p></div></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_97">97</a></span></p> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 28.—From a gun-room officer on H.M. +battle-cruiser “Invincible,” to his parents +at Hove:</i></h3> + +<p>The particular ship we were engaged with was +in a pitiful plight when we had finished with her. +Her funnels shot away, masts tottering, great +gaps of daylight in her sides, smoke and flame +belching from her everywhere. She speedily +heeled over and sank like a stone, stern first. +So far as is known none of her crew was saved. +She was game to the last, let it be said, her flag +flying till she sank, her guns barking till they +could bark no more. Although we suffered no +loss we had some very narrow escapes. Three +torpedoes were observed to pass us, one, it is said, +within a few feet. Four-inch shells, too, fell +short, or were ahead of us. The sea was alive +with the enemy’s submarines, which, however, +luckily did no damage. They should not be +under-rated, these Germans. They’ve got “guts.” +That cruiser did not think apparently of surrender.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_98">98</a></span></p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 29.—From a Bluejacket in the North Sea, +to his friends at Jarrow:</i></h3> + +<p>On August 24th we made a dash for the +German coast and were lucky enough to come +across two German cruisers. Then the fun started. +We pursued one, and when I tell you we can do +thirty knots, you can imagine what chance she +had of getting away. She was a heavier boat +than us, and the engagement lasted four hours. +At the end of that time she was a terrible sight. +She was on fire from stem to stern; the Germans +were jumping overboard, and at the finish only +seventeen out of 400 were saved. It is a fact +that the Germans only stayed at their guns under +the orders of their officers, who stood over them +with revolvers. Three dozen of their bodies, +which were picked up, bore marks of revolver +shots. Five days every week for the last four +weeks we have swept the North Sea, and all we +discovered were the aforesaid two cruisers and +about a dozen trawlers, which we sank. There +is no sign of the big German Navy. They are in +Kiel Harbour, and if they come out—well, there +will be no German Navy left. The only things +they are using are mines and submarines. In +fact, the so-called German Navy is a “wash-out.”<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_99">99</a></span> +We have been within ten miles of their base and +they will not come out.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 30.—From Seaman-Gunner Brown, to his +parents at Newport, Isle of Wight:</i></h3> + +<p>We and another ship in our squadron came +across two German cruisers. We outed one and +started on the second, but battle-cruisers soon +finished her off. Another then appeared, and +after we had plunked two broadsides into her +she slid off in flames. Every man did his bit, and +there was a continuous stream of jokes. We +pencilled on the projectiles. “Love from England,” +“One for the Kaiser,” and other such +messages.</p> + +<p>The sight of sinking German ships was +gloriously terrible; funnels and masts lying about +in all directions, and amidships a huge furnace, +the burning steel looking like a big ball of sulphur. +There was not the slightest sign of fear, from the +youngest to the oldest man aboard.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_100">100</a></span></p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 31.—From a man in a warship’s engine-room:</i></h3> + +<p>We stayed down there keeping the engines +going at their top speed in order to cut off the +Germans from their fleet. We could hear the +awful din and the scampering of the tars +on the deck as they rushed about from point to +point. We could hear the shells crashing against +the side of the ship or shrieking overhead as +they passed harmlessly into the water, and we +knew that at any moment one might strike us +in a vital part, and send us below never to come +up again. It is ten times harder on the men whose +duty is in the engine-room than for those on +deck taking part in the fighting, for they at least +have the excitement of the fight, and if the ship +is struck they have more than a sporting chance +of escape. We have none, and the medals and +pats on the back when the fight is won are not +for us, who are only common mechanics.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 32.—From Seaman Jack Diggett, of West +Bromwich, to his brother:</i></h3> + +<p>You will have heard of our little job in the +North Sea. We sank five ships and ran a few off.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_101">101</a></span> +Of course it was only a trial spin. We kicked +off last Friday about six in the morning, and we +won 5—nil. Not bad, considering we are playing +“away.” Their goalkeepers could not hold us, +we were so hot. Our forwards shot beautifully, +and our defence was sound. We agreed to play +extra time if we had not finished, but we had +done in time. It must not be thought that we +had it all our own way, for they were very +brave, and fought until one of our boys +fired a shot at the last gun in the <i>Mainz</i> and +blew the whole gun and crew as well into the sea. +One of our officers had both his legs blown off, +and still shouted out to give the Germans another. +We are all getting ready for the big match of the +season now when their battle fleet chooses to come +out. One German officer we got out of the water +asked, “Are you British?” When our officer +replied, “Yes,” he said, “God help us!” They +thought we were the French fleet.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 33.—From a seaman on H.M.S. “Hearty”:</i></h3> + +<p>The destroyer <i>Laurel</i> seems to have suffered +the most. She had one funnel carried right away<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_102">102</a></span> +and the others riddled like a pepper-box. One +shell struck her right forward, went through her +bulkhead, through one galley door, and out +through the other. The cookie was in there at +the time, but it missed him and cut through the +other side of the ship. That cook was born +under a lucky star. It’s on the bridge and +around the guns where they suffered most. +On the <i>Liberty’s</i> bridge, everybody except one +was killed; in fact they say they were never seen +since. Poor devils, they must have been carried +right overboard. The skipper of the <i>Laurel</i> +had both his legs shot away.</p> + +<p>The scout <i>Arethusa</i> came in last. She brought +100 Germans picked up off the cruiser <i>Mainz</i>. We +didn’t see them; they were landed down at +Sheerness. They’ve got one keepsake off her. +They picked up a German officer, but he died, and +they buried him at sea. They’ve got his uniform +hanging up. The cooks on the <i>Arethusa</i> were +not so lucky. Two cooks were in the galley, +just having their rum, when a shell killed one +and blew the other’s arm off. A funny thing, +they’ve got a clock hanging up; it smashed the +glass and one hand, but the blooming thing’s still +going.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_103">103</a></span></p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 34.—From a seaman on H.M. destroyer +“Lurcher,” to a friend at Bradford:</i></h3> + +<p>We had orders to pick up prisoners. As we +steamed up dead bodies were floating past the +ship. We went up alongside the German cruiser +<i>Mainz</i> just before she sank, and it was an awful +sight. We got 224 prisoners in a most terrible +state, and most of them died. It is impossible +to describe it all on paper. Our decks were red +with blood, and you see we are only a destroyer, +so you may tell what a mess we were in.</p> + +<p>All the Germans seemed quite happy when we +got them on board. The worst job of all was +getting them out of the sea. Some of them had +legs and arms shot away, battered to pieces. I +was in our boat just below when their vessel sank, +and there seemed to be many who were helpless +on board her. The captain remained behind, +having had both legs shot away.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 35.—From a Naval Lieutenant to a friend:</i></h3> + +<p>That was all. Remains only little details, +only one of which I will tell you. The most<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_104">104</a></span> +romantic, dramatic, and piquant episode that +modern war can ever show. The <i>Defender</i>, +having sunk an enemy, lowered a whaler to pick +up her swimming survivors; before the whaler +got back an enemy’s cruiser came up and chased +the <i>Defender</i>, and thus she abandoned her whaler. +Imagine their feelings—alone in an open boat +without food, 25 miles from the nearest land, and +that land the enemy’s fortress, with nothing but +fog and foes around them. Suddenly a swirl +alongside and up, if you please, pops his Britannic +Majesty’s submarine E 4, opens his conning +tower, takes them all on board, shuts up again, +dives, and brings them home 250 miles! Is not +that magnificent? No novel would dare face +the critics with an episode like that in it, except, +perhaps, Jules Verne; and all true!</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 36.—From a seaman on one of the British +destroyers:</i></h3> + +<p>We have at last had an innings at the Germans. +It was a go. Fully seven hours we fought +shot for shot. I had the pleasure of seeing four +German ships go down. We never knew but it<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_105">105</a></span> +might be our turn next, as great shells were +falling all around us. Several shells went just +over our heads, whistling just like a needle on a +broken record. Would you believe it, one of our +boats had actually stopped to pick up German +wounded when the Germans fired on her?</p> + +<p>I think all our men took it just as though +we were having our annual battle practice—cool, +laughing, and cracking jokes, with shell +all around them. All the thought was just of +shooting it into them—and they got it! I was +told they lost 1,500 men. I shall never understand +how it was our ship was not hit, for we +were within range of their cruisers and the +Heligoland forts. We are ready for another +smack at them.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 37.—From a seaman on H.M.S. “New +Zealand” to his uncle in Halifax:</i></h3> + +<p>The torpedo craft had rather a hot time +with the enemy in the early morning, but +suddenly we appeared out of the mist. To say +that they were surprised is to put it mildly, +because before they knew where they were we +were playing our light cruisers, and the destroyers<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_106">106</a></span> +worried them like terriers. Then for us to +come along and give them the <i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">coup de grace</i> was +absolutely <em>It</em>.</p> + +<p>Two of their ships, I am convinced, would +have been floating to-day, but as our small ships +gathered round them to take off their survivors—all +their flags were struck—they opened fire, only +to be sent to Davy Jones’s locker a little quicker +than they could shoot. Well, we succeeded in +sending some good ships and some unfortunate +men to the bottom in something like fourteen +minutes. Not a bad score for the cricket season, +is it?</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 38.—From a seaman on board the flagship of +the first destroyer squadron, to his friends at +Wimbledon:</i></h3> + +<p>We had a very decent splash last week off +Heligoland, as doubtless you have read. Our +ship was not hit at all, though some shots were +pretty near. It was a fine sight to see the <i>Lion</i> +demolish one cruiser. We could see her (the +cruiser’s) shots falling short, but still the <i>Lion</i> +did not fire. For fully ten minutes the cruiser<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_107">107</a></span> +belted away without getting a hit. Then the +<i>Lion</i>, who was leading the line, hoisted “open +fire,” turned slowly and majestically round and +fired her broadside—once. It was quite sufficient. +Up went a cloud of smoke and steam from the +target, and when it cleared her aft funnel was at a +rakish angle, and a huge rent appeared the length +of her side.</p> + +<p>After a few more “salvoes” she was rapidly +sinking by the stern. Shortly afterwards she +half-hauled down her ensign, and as we were +steaming up to stand by and rescue her survivors, +she hoisted it again and opened fire. It +was a dirty trick, but they got their deserts. +Once again the <i>Lion</i> turned, and this time fired +but five shots from her huge turrets. Amidst a +shower of splinters, smoke, and fire she disappeared. +We steamed over the spot, but +although there was plenty of wreckage, not a +single living thing was to be seen. This incident +only lasted about forty-five minutes, although the +whole battle was raging for eight hours.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_108">108</a></span></p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 39.—Front leading telegraphist H. Francis, +of Croydon:</i></h3> + +<p>We had the first taste of blood on Friday, +and I can tell you it was O.T. The battle lasted +from 6.30 a.m. till one p.m., going at it hammer +and tongs all the time.</p> + +<p>We came back with sixty prisoners, one of +them being Admiral von Tirpitz’s son, who was +second-lieutenant in the <i>Mainz</i>. We were within +twenty yards of her when she went down, and I +can tell you it was a grand sight.</p> + +<p>Their officers were shooting the men as they +jumped overboard, and one chap on the bridge +was beckoned to by our commander to come off. +But there was “nothing doing.” He simply +folded his arms, shook his head, and as the ship +rolled over he never moved. The captain also +went down in her. He had both his legs blown off.</p> + +<p>For a quarter of an hour the sea was simply +alive with Germans, all singing out most piteously, +and, as we pulled them on board, we marvelled +how they managed to swim with the wounds they +had, some with feet off, some with one or two legs +off, some with their arms gone.</p> + +<p>The Kaiser has been stuffing his men up +that the English cannot shoot. They know +differently now. They were greatly surprised<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_109">109</a></span> +when we picked them up and looked after +them.</p> + +<p>Pleased to say I am enjoying myself, and +longing for more.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 40.—From Gunner T. White:</i></h3> + +<p>We didn’t waste more shots than was necessary +on the Germans off Heligoland. One of +their destroyers was knocked over first shot. It +was one of the cleanest shots you ever saw, and +the man who fired it is the proudest man in our +ship to-day.</p> + +<p>Next time I fancy the Germans will want to +make it a rule of the fight that a German ship +must be allowed at least ten shots to one of ours +before the knock-out is fired. Of course, it’s +very hard on the rest of us, because it simply +means that the gunner who gets first shot does the +trick, and we may be in a dozen fights and never +get a shot at the enemy once, because there’s +nothing left to hit.</p> + +<p class="p2">Since that first engagement, the British Fleet +has been waiting alert for the enemy to come<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_110">110</a></span> +out of hiding and give them a second chance; +and has incidentally been busy sweeping the sea +of floating mines and prowling after mine-layers +that, disguised as Grimsby trawlers, have succeeded +in putting in some deadly work.</p> + +<p class="p2">An interesting account of the efficiency of this +policing of the North Sea was related by two +trawler skippers, a week after the fight, to a +<cite>Daily Telegraph</cite> Correspondent who remarks +that the <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">modus operandi</i> necessitates a continuous +vigilance, mostly under cover of the +darkness, and entails a strain upon the naval +officers and men that can only be appreciated +by those who witness it.</p> + +<p>The first skipper stated that he had just come +from Iceland:</p> + +<p class="p2">At one point up north there was, he said, +a solid wall of warships, which made it impossible +for any foe to break through undetected. +The scrutiny did not end with a mere examination +at the point mentioned. After being released +our boat was followed by a couple of torpedo +destroyers until we reached our destination. In +this way we were not only convoyed, but the +warships made absolutely certain that we were<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_111">111</a></span> +British trawlers. The experience, being novel +to us, was very inspiring.</p> + +<p class="p2">The other skipper’s story was even more interesting. +He is in charge of a North Sea boat, +and anchored each night near the shore.</p> + +<p class="p2">We were laid under the land, he said, when +about two in the morning a cruiser suddenly +appeared alongside of us. All his lights were +extinguished, and the quiet way in which he came +up and the clever tactics he showed in getting +alongside without doing any damage was astonishing.</p> + +<p>Talk about cats seeing in the dark, these +naval officers are wonderful. When the cruiser +reached us all we could see was a huge black +object hemming us in. A voice shouted out, +“Who are you?” and I answered back, “A +British trawler.” “What is your name?” he +asked, and I replied. “When did you leave?” +he next asked. I told him. “What were your +orders when you left?” he next asked. I told him +and in a flash the commander of the cruiser +shouted back, “All right.”</p> + +<p>It was a fine piece of work, believe me, but +there was something even more astonishing. +Directly the commander had finished talking<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_112">112</a></span> +to me another voice from the stern of our vessel +sung out, “The name is quite correct, sir.” A +submarine had crept up behind to verify our +name and number, and although all the crew had +come on deck to see what was happening, not +one of the men aft had seen the submarine appear. +The whole episode only occupied a few minutes, +and the cruiser, after wishing us good morning +and plenty of fishing, disappeared in the darkness. +I have seen the British Navy in times of peace, +but to see it in war time makes you feel proud +of it. No swank, simply good old Nelson’s motto +all the time.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_113">113</a></span></p> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="vspace"><a id="V"></a>V<br /> + +<span class="subhead"><span class="smcap">From Mons to the Walls of Paris</span></span></h2> +</div> + +<div class="poem-container"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="iq">“<i>The Lilies of France and our own Red Rose</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Are twined in a coronal now:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>At War’s bloody bridal it glitters and glows</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>On Liberty’s beautiful brow.</i>”<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="attrib"><span class="smcap">Gerald Massey.</span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<p>In his despatch to Lord Kitchener, dated September +7th, Sir John French tells of the four-days’ +battle at Mons, and traces his masterly, +triumphant retreat, in the face of irresistible odds, +to Maubeuge, to Cambrai, to Le Cateau, to +Landrecies, and so almost to within sight of the +walls of Paris. He pays a glowing tribute to the +magnificent fighting spirit of the officers and men +who carried out these stupendous movements with +such complete success, but at present it is to the +men themselves you must turn again for detailed +information of the horrors and heroisms, the +grim and glorious hours that darkened and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_114">114</a></span> +lightened through those tumultuous days. “What +we did in that three weeks English people at +home will never know,” writes Private J. Harris, +of the Worcestershire Regiment: “We were +marching and fighting day and night for three +weeks without a break.”</p> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 41.—From Private Smiley, of the Gordon +Highlanders, to his brother, Mr. G. A. Smiley, +of Chepstow:</i></h3> + +<p>On Sunday, 23rd, at Mons, we rose at four +a.m. and marched out 1,100 strong. We took +up ground on the extreme flank of the British +force. Immediately we started to entrench +ourselves, and to the good trench work we did +we put down our freedom from casualty. Later +in the day a hellish tornado of shell swept over +us, and with this introduction to war we received +our baptism of fire. We were lining the Mons +road, and immediately in our front and to our +rear were woods. In the rear wood was stationed +a battery of R.F.A. The German artillery is +wonderful. The first shot generally found us, and +to me it looked as if the ranges had been carefully +taken beforehand. However, our own gunners +were better, and they hammered and battered +the Germans all the day long.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_115">115</a></span> +They were at least three to our one, and +our artillery could not be in fifty places at once, +so we just had to stick it. The German infantry +are bad skirmishers and rotten shots, and they +were simply mowed down in batches by our chaps. +They came in companies of, I should say, 150 +men in file five deep, and we simply rained bullets +at them the live-long day. At about five p.m. +the Germans in the left front of us retired, and +we saw no more of them.</p> + +<p>The Royal Irish Regiment had had an awful +smashing earlier on, as also had the Middlesex, +and our company were ordered to go along the +road as reinforcements. The one and a half mile +seemed a thousand. Stormed at all the way, we +kept on, and no one was hit until we came to a +white house which stood in a clearing. Immediately +the officer passed the gap hell was let loose +on us, but we got across safely, and I was the only +one wounded, and that was with a ricochet +shrapnel bullet in the right knee.</p> + +<p>I knew nothing about it until an hour after, +when I had it pointed out to me. I dug it out +with a knife. We passed dead civilians, some +women, and a little boy with his thigh shattered +by a bullet. Poor wee fellow. He lay all the +time on his face, and some man of the Irish was<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_116">116</a></span> +looking after him, and trying to make him comfortable. +The devils shelled the hospital and +killed the wounded, despite a huge Red Cross +flag flying over it.</p> + +<p>When we got to the Royal Irish Regiment’s +trenches the scene was terrible. They were +having dinner when the Germans opened on +them, and their dead and wounded were lying +all around. Beyond a go at some German +cavalry, the day drew in, and darkness saw us on +the retreat. The regiment lost one officer and +one man dead, one officer and some men severely +wounded.</p> + +<p>We kept up this sort of game (fighting by +day and retiring by night) until we got to Cambrai, +on Tuesday night. I dare not mention that place +and close my eyes. God, it was awful. Avalanche +followed avalanche of fresh German troops, but +the boys stuck to it, and we managed to retire +to Ham without any molestation. Cambrai was +the biggest battle fought. Out of all the glorious +regiment of 1,100 men only five officers and 170 +of the men answered the roll-call next day. +Thank God, I was one of them.</p> + +<p>Of course, there may be a number who got +separated from the battalion through various +causes, and some wounded who escaped. I hope<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_117">117</a></span> +so because of the heavy hearts at home. I saw +the South Lancs, and they were terribly cut up, +only a remnant left of the regiment.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 42.—From Corporal W. Leonard, of the +Army Service Corps (a South African War +reservist) to his mother at Huddersfield:</i></h3> + +<p>I know that you will all excuse me for not +receiving a letter from me this long time, but +I hope that you will excuse me. Don’t, whatever +you do at home, don’t worry about me. If +I just thought that you won’t worry at home I +shall be all right. You know, mother, I know +more about war this time than I did last, and +the conditions also. It’s all right when you +know the ropes, and my African experiences are +serving me in good stead here, so I hope and +trust that you at home are not worrying about +me; time enough to worry when there is cause. +Well, I hope and trust all are well at home, as +it is hell out here. Up to this affair I thought +that the Germans were a civilised race of people, +but they are nothing but savages; niggers +would not do what they do. Just fancy mounting<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_118">118</a></span> +maxim guns on ambulance wagons bearing the +Red Cross, cutting the right hand off prisoners +and turning them loose afterwards minus a +hand. By jingo, mother, the boys (our boys) +are absolutely all in. We did give the Boers +a chance now and again, but these devils we +don’t give them a cat in hell chance; we’re +playing the game to the finish. I would not +care to write so much, as I had better tell you +when I come home. The Boer War was a tame +affair. We are moving off again to-night. I +don’t know where, and we don’t care either; +it’s a do to a finish this time. I hope you got +my postcards from Rouen in France, as there +was some doubt as to whether they would let +them through or not. I will write home as opportunity +occurs, and I hope you won’t worry +about me, because you all know at home that +I shall always be where I’m wanted, and my +duty every time, so don’t worry. Tell anyone +who enquires I am O.K., lost a bit of weight +perhaps, but not the worse so far, and above +all don’t believe all you see in the papers, as +they know practically nothing, as everything is +done under sealed orders, which never leak out. +We are not even allowed to say in our letters +where we are, as they are opened and read by<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_119">119</a></span> +the captain before they leave here, so you can +judge for yourselves how things are. And I +might say, mother, that we are very busy.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 43.—From Corporal Edward Hood, to his +father, at Taunton:</i></h3> + +<p>The fighting lately has been hot all round, and +the French have had much harder than us in +some places, but they’re sticking at it manfully, +and they deserve to win a victory that will wipe +the Germans off the map. The French make a +lot of us in camp, and when we pass each other in +the field, no matter how busy the Frenchman may +be, they give us hearty cheers to encourage us +on our way. There’s plenty of friendly rivalry +between us when there’s hard fighting to be done, +and when we do get there before the French +they don’t grudge us our luck. They’re good +sports right through to the core, and the British +soldier asks nothing better from allies in the +field.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_120">120</a></span></p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 44.—From Private William Burgess, of the +Royal Field Artillery, to his parents at +Ilfracombe:</i></h3> + +<p>We left our landing place for the front, on +the Tuesday, and got there on Saturday night. +The Germans had just reached Liège then, and +we got into action on the Sunday morning. The +first thing we did was to blow up a bridge to +stop the Germans from crossing. Then we +came into action behind a lot of houses attached +to the main street. We were there about ten +minutes, when the houses started to fall around +us. The poor people were buried alive. I saw +poor children getting knocked down by bursting +shells.</p> + +<p>The next move was to advance across where +there was a Red Cross Hospital. They dropped +shells from airships and fired on it until the place +was burnt down to the ground. Then they got +a big plan on to retire and let the French get +behind them. We retired eight miles, but we +had to fight until we were forced to move again. +We got as far as Le Cateau on Tuesday night. +We camped there until two o’clock next morning.</p> + +<p>Then we all heard there was a big fight coming +off, so we all got together and cleared the field +for action.... (The letter mentions the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_121">121</a></span> +numbers of men engaged, and states that the +Germans were in the proportion of three to one.) +... We cut them down like rats. We could +see them coming on us in heaps, and dropping +like hail. The Colonel passed along the line, +and said, “Stick it, boys.”</p> + +<p>I tell you, mother, it was awful to see your +own comrades dropping down—some getting their +heads blown off, and others their legs and arms. I +was fighting with my shirt off. A piece of shell +went right through my shirt at the back and never +touched me. It stuck into a bag of earth which +we put between the wheels to stop bullets.</p> + +<p>We were there all busy fighting when an airship +came right over the line and dropped a bomb, +which caused a terrible lot of smoke. Of course, +that gave the Germans our range. Then the shells +were dropping on us thick. We looked across the +line and saw the German guns coming towards us. +We turned our two centre guns on them, and sent +them yards in the air. I reckon I saw one German +go quite twenty yards in the air.</p> + +<p>Just after that a shell burst right over our gun. +That one got me out of action. I had to get off +the field the best way I could. The bullets were +going all around me on the way off; you see they +got completely around us, I went about two<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_122">122</a></span> +miles, and met a Red Cross cart. I was taken to +St. Quentin’s Hospital. We were shelled out of +there about two in the morning, and then taken +in a train, and taken down to a plain near Rouen.</p> + +<p>Next morning we were put in a ship for dear +old England.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 45.—From a Corporal in the King’s Royal +Rifles, now at Woolwich Hospital:</i></h3> + +<p>I was in three engagements, Mons, Landrecies, +and Cambrai, but the worst of all was Mons. It +was on Sunday, the 23rd of August, and I shall +never forget the date. They were easily twenty-five +to one, and we eventually had to retreat with +just over a thousand casualties, but heavens, they +must have had a jolly sight more. At Landrecies, +where we arrived at 7.30, we thought we were +going to have a night’s rest, though we were wet +through and no change, but we hadn’t been there +long before they (the Germans) started firing; +they seemed to be in every place we went to. The +only thing we heard then was, “turn out at once.” +It was about 10.15 when we turned out, and the +Colonel’s orders were that we had to take a bridge<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_123">123</a></span> +if every man was killed. (I thought that sounded +a wee bit healthy.) I had my last drink out of +a dirty glass of beer. I says, “good health Billy,” +and off we went with bayonets fixed.</p> + +<p>On our way to the bridge we met the regiment +who had tried and failed, bringing back its +wounded and killed in scores. (I thought more +encouragement for the corps.) I was carrying my +pal, the rifle, with my right hand. Well, we got +near the bridge and found out from our scouts +that there were 10,000 German troops on each +side of the bridge and we were 1,300 strong. +(More encouragement.) So we lined a long +hedge about two yards apart so as to make a +long line and harder for them to hit. We lay +here till daybreak just before 4 a.m., and we +could hear them talking all night about 300 yards +away. We could see them quite clearly by this +time; so we started to fire and rolled them over +by dozens. It wasn’t long, though, before the +bullets were whizzing past my ears on each side, +and I began to get my head lower and lower +till I think I should have buried it in the mud +if it had got much lower. Their superior numbers +began to tell and we had to retire as fast +as we could. I couldn’t go fast enough with my +pack on (it weighs 84 lbs.), so I threw it away as<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_124">124</a></span> +did hundreds more, and I finished bridge-taking +with my old pal only (the rifle).</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 46.—From Lieutenant O. P. Edgcumbe, +of 1st Battalion D.C.L.I., to his father, Sir +Robert Edgcumbe, Commandant at Newquay:</i></h3> + +<p> +29th August, 1914. +</p> + +<p>For the last week or ten days we have been +fighting hard and are now for one day resting. +Altogether, during five days and five nights, I got +six hours’ sleep, and so am rather weary. However, +bullets and a real enemy are a wonderful +stimulant, and I feel as fit as anything. Do all +of you write as often as possible, and send me +some newspapers. It does not matter whether +there is any news—the sight of a letter from home +is very cheering.</p> + +<p>All our men are somewhat fatigued, but are +very keen and full of fight. My regiment has +had a bad time, and I am dreadfully afraid that +they have been badly cut up, although I can +as yet get no details. They were caught in a +village by Germans in the houses, who had +managed to get there by wearing our uniforms.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_125">125</a></span> +Never again shall I respect the Germans, or any +of them I may meet. They have no code of +honour, and there have been several cases of their +wearing French and British uniforms, which is, +of course, against the Geneva Convention.</p> + +<p>The weather is good, for which we are +thankful.</p> + +<p>Everything is so peaceful now, and it is such +a perfect day that were it not for the continuous +growl of the guns, which never cease, one would +hardly believe one was in the midst of a huge +war.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 47.—From Private D. White:</i></h3> + +<p>German airships we seldom see now, though +we used to have them every day over our heads. +They are finding the French more than a match +for them, and they most likely prefer to rely on +their ordinary spies, of whom they have thousands. +They are found often among the men engaged +for transport work, but they are such clumsy +bunglers that they give themselves away sooner +or later. Some of us who haven’t the heart to +drown a cat never turn a hair when we see these<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_126">126</a></span> +scum shot, for they richly deserve what they get +and a soldier’s death is too good for them.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 48.—From Private Spain, of the 4th Guards +Brigade (late police-constable at Newry):</i></h3> + +<p>We have had three engagements with the +Germans since I arrived, and I came out quite +unhurt. The two first were fought on Sunday +and Monday following. You see I cannot give +date or place. Secrecy is our motto <i xml:lang="la" lang="la">re</i> war +and movement of troops for international purposes, +etc. Our third engagement was nearly +fatal. We arrived at the town of ——, very +much fatigued, and fully intending to have a +good rest. It was a fine town, about as big +as Newry, but more compact, with many fine +buildings. We were just about five minutes +billeted in the various houses, and just stretching +our weary legs, when an officer came running in, +shouting “The Germans are upon us; outside +everyone.” We came out, magazine loaded, +bayonets fixed, and eager to get a good bayonet +fight with them. It appears they do not like it. +But we found none. They had not yet arrived.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_127">127</a></span> +It was 10 p.m. before they did so. In the meantime +the poor people were leaving the town in +crowds, with as much goods and chattels as they +could carry away, and it was well for them, too. +It was a dark night when we formed up in the +streets, and the lamps but dimly burned. The +noises of rifles and field guns were terrific. We +rushed to the heads of the various streets, where +our German foe would advance. Our Field +Artillery and the Coldstream Guards went out +to delay their advance whilst we stripped off +our coats and commenced to tear up the square +setts, gather carts—in fact, everything that would +build a barricade to keep back our numerous +German foe, and we did so under perfect showers +of shrapnel shell that struck and fell around us, +and struck the houses about us, but we were +undaunted, and so succeeded. Firing ceased, +and we advanced out towards the Coldstream +Guards’ position. They had given them a good +fight, but many of them lay for ever silent upon +the ground. The Germans would not advance +upon us, so we retired.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_128">128</a></span></p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 49.—From Corporal Sam Moorhouse, of the +King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry, to his +wife at Birkby:</i></h3> + +<p>Our company were reserves, and came under +fire about noon. We were in a ditch—as we +thought safe—when “Ping! ping!” came the +bullets, and off we shot across the open, under a +railway embankment. On the way we passed +four artillery horses shot dead with shrapnel. +Then we took up a position on a hillside, when +round the corner, 700 yards away, came a German +maxim gun. They were busy getting it ready +for firing on us, and we were firing at them, when +our artillery—which was only half a mile away—sent +two shots and blew up the gun and all the +men. Then we cleared off and marched till +twelve midnight. Up again at two and off for +what was called a rest camp. Still wet clothes, +and filthy; had no boots off for days. Instead +of “rest” camp we marched nearly thirty miles, +arriving at 8 p.m. Here I had a good meal of +jam, cheese, and bread—first bite of bread for +days.</p> + +<p>Next day we were up before daylight and +taking up position. We dug trenches, and were +fired on before we had finished. We were at the +back—a sort of last firing line. So we lay down<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_129">129</a></span> +in the trench, and waited. Shrapnel and lyddite +were flying round us like hail, and our gunners +were firing too. Such a noise! Just like thunder! +Well, we stuck out as long as we could when we +got the order to retire. However I came safely +away goodness knows.</p> + +<p>I picked up my gun and ran up the hill +and dropped on one side of the road to rest. Then +I had to get across the road, so got up and was +half-way across when a shell burst and knocked +me flat on my face. It must have fused at the +wrong time, as I got only a cut on my thumb +from a fragment. Then I got across and dropped +in a trench where a fellow was lying dead. I +stayed there only a minute, and then ran off +over the hill and safe. The bullets were flying +in all directions and shells were bursting four at +a time. South Africa was nothing compared to +this.</p> + +<p>I had had no sleep for nights, so decided to +go back to a little village we had just passed, +where I sat on a doorstep till I fell asleep, and +woke up one hour later wet through and chilled +to the bone. It was still dark when I got back +to where I left our regiment, and they were off. +So I trekked away alone, and got on the wrong +road.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_130">130</a></span> +About nine in the morning I came across +some transport, and rode along with stragglers +of other regiments to a camp. There were about +sixty of us, and we went to a large camp, about +2,000 of us—all lost. There I came across Guy +Jessop of Huddersfield, who was also lost, and +was glad to meet a pal. We had a walk in the +town together, and called in a café. We had +some coffee and rum (Guy paid, as I had no +money). I played the piano and sang “Mrs. +Hullaby.” Lucky job they could not understand +English, or they would have been shocked.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<div id="ip_130" class="figcenter" style="max-width: 28.375em;"> + <img src="images/i_128.jpg" width="454" height="600" alt="" /> + <div class="caption"> + +<div class="floatl"><i>Drawn by Christopher Clark.</i></div> +<div class="floatr"><i>Copyright of The Sphere.</i></div> +<p class="floatc"><span class="smcap">How the Royal Field Artillery Fight.</span></p></div></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 50.—From Private E. W. Dyas, of the +11th Hussars, to his parents at Mountain Ash:</i></h3> + +<p>We landed at Havre, and travelled up +country. We were under fire for about twenty +minutes on the first day, and the shells were +bursting like rain all around us. We got away +with only one horse killed. It was marvellous. +We are continually under fire by day and travelling +by night. It is awful to hear the artillery +booming death night and day. We were fighting +day and night for three days. The slaughter was<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_131">131</a></span> +terrible. I took a dispatch across the battlefield +when the Germans were retiring, and I passed +their trenches. The dead were piled up in the +trenches about ten deep, and there were trenches +seven miles long. It was terrible to see. We +are collecting the three cavalry brigades together +at the present moment for a massive charge. I +am writing this in the saddle. I may get through +this again. One bullet penetrated my horse’s +neck and another one went through the saddle. +I have had a sword-thrust through my sleeve. +So I am getting on well.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 51.—From Lieut. Oswald Anne, of the Royal +Artillery, to his father, Major Anne, of +Burghwallis Hall:</i></h3> + +<p>Dear Dad.—Just got yours of the 13th inst. +Battling yesterday and the day before. I had +a pal killed in another battery—five bullets in +him. I have just seen the first Sausage-maker +prisoner in hands of some infantry. They had +the greatest difficulty in stopping the French +populace from knifing him. The German shrapnel +is very dangerous stuff, having high explosive<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_132">132</a></span> +in it. It bursts backwards, and so nullifies our +frontal shield. No more time or news.</p> + +<p class="p2 sigright">August 29th.</p> + +<p>The boom of French guns is now in full +swing, and we are standing easy for the moment. +Did you get my other letter three days back? +Just after I had finished it, we had the alarm, +which proved false, but that night Germans +marched into the town, thinking we had left it. +So they say! A gruff German voice answered +a challenge, and 15 rounds rapid fire from rifles +and maxims behind the main road barricade, +laid out every man. Eight hundred were picked +up next morning in this one street.</p> + +<p>An R.E. told me on the canal bridge a maxim +fired 9,000 rounds and laid out another 1,000. +The first Germans arriving in one end of this +town were in French uniforms. Luckily, those +in the rear were seen and fired on, stampeding +the ammunition mules, scattering the “Sausages,” +who were almost laid out in a few rounds of fire. +Lots of “espions” here, male and female. I +have hardly seen a German, except prisoners. +Poor Soames, of the 20th Hussars, was sparrowed +first fight. W. Silvertop (20th Hussars) is hard +at it “biffing” Sausages, and a N.C.O.,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_133">133</a></span> +yesterday, who had lost the Regiment, told +me 48 hours ago he was well.</p> + +<p>“Cigs.” all arrived, and saved my life, also +load of chocolate. Screaming women rush everywhere +during conflicts howling “Trahie,” “Perdue,” +“Sauve qui peut.” One of “D” battery, +R.H.A., N.C.O., told us they had mowed “Sausage-makers” +down for ten minutes in one action as +hard as they could load and still they came in +masses, till at last the shrieking men ran all ways, +not knowing where, leaving heaps of semi-moving +remnants on the ground.</p> + +<p>Our crowd, having so far escaped untouched, +are very lucky. Several Brigades have had the +devil’s own hail of shot over them. Please +send me some newspapers sometimes, as we have +not seen one since I left, bar some old French +<i xml:lang="fr" lang="fr">Petit Parisiens</i>.</p> + +<p>The Scots Greys from York and the 12th +Lancers did great work yesterday on hostile +cavalry, and about wiped out those opposed to +them. The “Guardies” are in great form. +Very little sleep nowadays, up at dawn almost +always, very often before that hour.</p> + +<p>A German regiment, dressed in English +uniforms, the other day billetted with an English +regiment (at the other end of the town), and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_134">134</a></span> +when the latter marched out they were about +broken up by maxim fire from the bedroom +windows. A German force arrived elsewhere, the +Berkshire regiment were on guard, and the +former, in French uniforms, called out from the +wire entanglements that they waited to interview +the C.O. A major went forward who spoke +French, and was shot down immediately. This +sort of thing is of daily occurrence, and only makes +matters worse for the “Sausage-makers” when +our infantry get into them.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 52.—From a reservist in the Royal Field +Artillery (Published in the “Glasgow Herald”):</i></h3> + +<p>I got a nasty hit with a shell on the thick +of the leg. The Germans caught us napping on +Wednesday, and what slaughter! It was horrible +to witness. The Germans came along the village, +killing the poor women and children and burning +all the houses. Our division could not hold +out. We were expecting the French troops to +meet us, but they were two days late. Our +battery had a lucky escape of being cut up. We +entrenched our guns to come into action next<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_135">135</a></span> +day, but somehow or other we cleared out, and +had only gone ten minutes before the place was +blown up.</p> + +<p>The officer in charge of my section had his head +blown off. I was carried off under heavy fire +on a fellow’s back, and it is to him I owe my life. +It was a long way to hospital, shells bursting all +round us. We dropped behind some corn stacks, +then on we went again. I had no sooner got +bandaged up when a chap came galloping up +and said the Germans were in sight. I was the +second last man to leave the hospital, and ten +minutes later it was blown up. You cannot +imagine what things were like. The women and +children of England can think themselves lucky, +for the poor women here had to walk from village +to village, young children in their arms. It +touched my heart to see the sight. The Germans +did not use rifles, but big guns, against our +infantry’s rifles. They are most brutal, killing all +wounded in a most horrible fashion.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_136">136</a></span></p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 53.—Front Trooper S. Cargill:</i></h3> + +<p>The Germans let all hell loose on us in their +mad attempt to crush us and so win their way +to Paris. They didn’t succeed, and they won’t +succeed. I saw one ghastly affair. A German +cavalry division was pursuing our retiring infantry +when we were let loose on them. When +they saw us coming they turned and fled, at +least all but one, who came rushing at us with +his lance at the charge. I caught hold of his horse, +which was half mad with terror, and my chum +was going to run the rider through when he +noticed the awful glaze in his eyes and we saw +that the poor devil was dead.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 54.—Front an Irish soldier, to his sister +in County Cork:</i></h3> + +<p>I am writing this on a leaf out of a field service +pocket-book, as notepaper and envelopes are very +scarce, and we are not allowed to send picture +postcards of places as they give away where +we are. Well, this is a lovely country. The +climate suits me very well. Everything grows +like mad here. It is rather like Ireland, only<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_137">137</a></span> +ten times as rich. All that I have seen yet—and +that is a good lot—is far and away better +than the best part of the county Limerick. I +think it would be a pleasure to farm here.</p> + +<p>At the present time I am billeted in a farmhouse. +I sleep in their best bed-room—that is +when I can go to bed at all—and they give me +home-made cider, cognac, and coffee, apples, +plums, etc., and lovely home-made cheese for +nothing, though they need not supply any food, +as the rations are served out by the regiment +every day.</p> + +<p>’Tis great fun trying to talk French to them +and I am picking it up gradually. It is wonderful +how words and sentences that I learned at school +come back to me now, and I can generally make +myself understood all right. It is an awful pity +to see this beautiful country spoiled by war, and +it is no wonder the people are so eager to fight +for it. I don’t think there is a single house +that has not sent out one or more men to fight +with the French Army, and their mothers, sisters, +wives, etc., are very proud of it. There are +two gone out of this house.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_138">138</a></span></p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 55.—From Private Carwardine, to the father +of a comrade-in-arms:</i></h3> + +<p>I am very sorry, but I don’t know for sure +about your Joe. You see, although he was in the +same company as me, he was not in the same +section. I only wish he had been. The last +I saw of him was when we were in the firing line +making trenches for ourselves. He was about +600 yards behind us, smoking, and I waved to +him. Then all of a sudden we had to get down +in our trenches, for bullets started coming over +our heads, and shells dropped around us.</p> + +<p>We were fighting twelve hours when I got one +in the back from a shell. After that I knew +no more until I found myself in hospital, and I +asked one of our chaps how our company went +on, and he told me there were only seventeen +of us left out of 210. I hope Joe is among them. +You will get to know in the papers in a bit when +they call the roll.</p> + +<p>So cheer up and don’t be downhearted, for if +Joe is killed he has died a soldier of honour on +the field. Excuse writing, as I am a bit shaky, +and I hope to God Joe is safe, for both your +sakes.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_139">139</a></span></p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 56.—From Private G. Dunton, of the Royal +Engineers, to his family at Coventry:</i></h3> + +<p>I am in hospital, having been sent home from +France, wounded in my left hand. I have got one +shrapnel bullet right through my hand, and another +through my middle finger against the top +joint. I was wounded at Cambrai last Wednesday. +I have been in four hospitals in France, but +had to be removed on account of the Germans +firing on the hospitals. I do not think much of +them, for if it was not for their artillery they would +be wiped out in quick time. No doubt our losses +are great, but theirs are far more. The famous +cavalry of theirs, the Uhlans, are getting cut up +terribly. All that have been captured have said +that they are short of food. I must say we have +had plenty to eat. I was near Mons a week last +Saturday and we were attacked the same day. +We have been on the retire ever since last Wednesday, +when I got wounded, but we shall soon be +advancing, for they will never reach Paris. I +am very pleased to see that the Germans are being +forced back by the Russians. I hope they will +serve Berlin the same as the Germans have done +to Belgium. The 9th Brigade was cut up badly; +in fact, my Division was, but more are wounded +than killed. There are 1,000 wounded in this<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_140">140</a></span> +hospital alone, without other hospitals. I must +say that I am in good health. My hand is +giving me pain, but I do not mind that. I only +had four days’ fighting, but it was hard work +while it lasted. The Germans, although four to +one, could not break through our lines, and they +must have lost thousands, as our artillery and +infantry mowed them down like sheep. Their +rifle fire took no effect at all. All our wounds +were done by shrapnel. My hand is not healing +at all, but I must be patient and give it time. +The French and Belgian people were very kind to +us and gave us anything we wanted.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 57.—From a Manchester soldier, in a +French hospital:</i></h3> + +<p>There was a young French girl helping to +bandage us up. How she stood it I don’t know. +There were some awful sights, but she never +quailed—just a sweet, sad smile for everyone. +If ever anyone deserved a front seat in Heaven, +this young angel does. God bless her. She +has the prayers and the love of the remnants +of our division. All the French people are<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_141">141</a></span> +wonderfully generous. They gave us anything +and everything. You simply cannot help loving +them, especially the children.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 58.—From Private A. McGillivray, a +Highlander, to his mother:</i></h3> + +<p>Of my company only 10 were unhit. I saw a +handful of Irishmen throw themselves in front +of a regiment of cavalry who were trying to cut +off a battery of horse artillery. It was one of +the finest deeds I ever saw. Not one of the poor +lads got away alive, but they made the German +devils pay in kind, and, anyhow, the artillery +got away to account for many more Germans. +Every man of us made a vow to avenge the +fallen Irishmen, and if the German cavalrymen +concerned were made the targets of every British +rifleman and gunner they had themselves to +thank. Later they were fully avenged by their +own comrades, who lay in wait for the German +cavalrymen. The Irish lads went at them +with the bayonet when they least expected it, +and the Germans were a sorry sight. Some of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_142">142</a></span> +them howled for mercy, but I don’t think they +got it. In war mercy is only for the merciful.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 59.—From Private W. Bell, of the South +Lancashire Regiment, to his wife:</i></h3> + +<p>I shall never forget this lot. Men fell dead +just like sheep. Our regiment was first in the +firing line, and we were simply cut up. Very few +escaped, so I think I was very lucky, for I was +nearly half-a-mile creeping over nothing but dead +men. In the trenches, bullets and shells came +down on us like rain. We even had to lift dead +men up and get under them for safety.</p> + +<p>When we got the order to retire an officer was +just giving the order to charge when he was +struck dead, and it is a good job we didn’t charge, +or we would have all been killed. I passed a +lot of my chums dead, but I didn’t see Fred +Atkinson (a friend of the family).</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_143">143</a></span></p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 60.—From Corporal T. Trainor:</i></h3> + +<p>Have you ever seen a little man fighting a +great, big, hulking giant who keeps on forcing +the little chap about the place until the giant +tires himself out, and then the little one, who +has kept his wind, knocks him over? That’s +how the fighting round here strikes me. We +are dancing about round the big German army, +but our turn will come.</p> + +<p>Last Sunday we had prayers with shells bursting +all around us, but the service was finished +before it was necessary for us to grapple with +the enemy. The only thing objectionable I have +seen is the robbing of our dead and wounded by +German ghouls. In such cases no quarter is +given, and, indeed, is never expected.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 61.—From an Artilleryman, to his wife at +Sheerness:</i></h3> + +<p>I am the only one left out of my battery; we +were blown to pieces by the enemy on Wednesday +at Le Cateau. We have been out here twenty-eight +days all told, and have been through the +five engagements. I have nothing; only the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_144">144</a></span> +jacket I stand up in—no boots or putties, as I +was left for dead. But my horse was shot, and +not me. He laid down on me. They had to +cut my boots, etc., off to get me from under +my horse.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 62.—From Lance-Corporal J. Preston, of +the 2nd Battalion Inniskilling Fusiliers, to his +wife at Banbridge:</i></h3> + +<p>I did not get hit at Mons. I got through it all +right. We encountered the Germans on Sunday +at Mons, and fought on till Monday night. It +was on the retreat from Mons that I was caught. +They had about one hundred guns playing on us +all the time we were retiring. We had a battery +of artillery with us. They were all blown to +pieces, men and guns and all. It was a most +sorrowful sight to see the guns wiped out, and +the gunners and men lying around them. The +whole plain was strewn with dead and wounded. +I hope my eyes will never look on anything so +horrid again. Our section brought in six prisoners, +all wounded, and they told us we had slain +hundreds of them. We captured a German spy; +he was dressed in a Scotsman’s uniform, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_145">145</a></span> +was knocking around our camp, but we were a +bit too quick for him. I think the hardest battles +are fought; the German cannot stand it much +longer, his food supply is getting done.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 63.—From a Corporal in the Motor Cycle +Section of the Royal Engineers:</i></h3> + +<p>Last night the enemy made an attempt to get +through to our base in armed motors. Myself +and two other motor-cyclists were sent out to +look for them. It was a pitch-black night, with +a thick fog. One of our men got in touch with +them, and was pursued. He made for a bridge +which had been mined by the engineers, and that +was the end of the Germans.... The German +artillery is rotten. Last Saturday three batteries +bombarded an entrenched British battalion for +two hours, and only seven men were killed. +The noise was simply deafening, but so little +effect had the fire that the men shouted with +laughter, and held their caps up on the end of +their rifles to give the German gunners a bit of +encouragement.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_146">146</a></span> +This is really the best summer holiday I have +had for a long time.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 64.—From Corporal J. Bailey:</i></h3> + +<p>It’s very jolly in camp in spite of all the +drawbacks of active service, and we have lively +times when the Germans aren’t hanging around +to pay their respects. It’s a fine sight to see +us on the march, swinging along the roads as +happy as schoolboys, and singing all the old +songs we can think of. The tunes are sometimes +a bit out, but nobody minds so long as we’re +happy. As we pass through the villages the +French come out to cheer us and bring us food +and fruit. Cigarettes we get more of than we +know what to do with. Some of them are +rotten, so we save them for the German prisoners, +who would smoke anything they can lay their +hands on. Flowers also we get plenty of, and +we are having the time of our lives.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_147">147</a></span></p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 65.—From a Sergeant in the Royal Field +Artillery:</i></h3> + +<p>If the French people were mad about us before +we were on trial, they are absolutely crazy +over us now when we have sort of justified our +existence. In the towns we pass through we +are received with so much demonstration that I +fancy the French soldiers must be jealous. The +people don’t seem to have eyes for anybody but +us, and they do all they can to make us comfortable. +They give us the best they can lay +hold of, but that’s not much after the Germans +have been around collaring all they could. It’s +the spirit that means so much to us, and even +though it was only an odd cup of water they +brought us we would be grateful. Most of us +are glad to feel that we are fighting for a nation +worth fighting for, and after our experience there +can be no question of trouble between us and +France in the future.</p> + +<p>We lost terribly in the retreat from Mons, of +which you have heard by now, but artillery +always stands to lose in retreats, because we play +such a big part in getting the other men away +and we quite made up our minds that we would +have to pay forfeit then. Without boasting, I +can say that it was the way the guns were handled<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_148">148</a></span> +that made it so easy for our lads to get out of +the German trap. There was once or twice when +it looked as though it were all up with us, and +some of our chaps were fair down in the mouth +over it; but I think now they didn’t make +sufficient allowance for the steadiness of all arms +of our service; and, between ourselves, I think +they had got the usual notions about the splendid +soldiering qualities of the German army. They +know better now, and though it’s bad to get +chesty about that sort of thing, we are all pretty +confident that with a sporting chance we stand +to win all the time.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 66.—From Private J. Toal:</i></h3> + +<p>It’s tired we all were when we got through +that week of fighting and marching from Mons; +but after we’d had a taste of rest for a day or +two, by the saints, we were ready for the ugly +Germans again, and we’ve been busy ever since +drilling holes in them big enough to let out the +bad that’s in them. You wouldn’t believe the +way they have burned and destroyed the holy +churches everywhere they went, and there’s<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_149">149</a></span> +many an Irish lad betwixt here and the frontier +has registered a vow that he will not rest content +till he’s paid off that score against the men who +would lay hands on God’s altars.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 67.—From Private W. Green:</i></h3> + +<p>We see more Germans than you could count +in the day, but they are now very funky about it, +and they will never wait for a personal interview +with one of our men, especially if he has a lance +or a bayonet handy, and naturally you don’t go +out German-hunting without something of the +kind with you, if only just for luck. When they +must face us they usually get stuck away somewhere +where they are protected by more guns +than you ever set eyes on, and likewise crowds +of machine guns of the Maxim pattern, mounted +on motors. These are not now so troublesome, +for they are easy to spot out in the open, and +our marksmen quickly pick off the men serving +them, so the Germans are getting a bit shy +about displaying them. Something we heard the +other day has put new life into us; not that +we were downhearted before, but what I mean<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_150">150</a></span> +shows that we are going to have all we wished +for very soon, and though we can’t tell you more +you may be sure that we are going on well.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 68.—From Private G. A. Turner, to his +father, Mr. J. W. Turner, of Leeds</i> (<i>Published +in the “Leeds Mercury”</i>):</h3> + +<p>I am still living, though a bit knocked about. +I got a birthday present from the Kaiser. I +was wounded on the 23rd. So it was a near +thing, was it not? I got your letter at a place +called Moroilles, in France, about five miles from +Landrecies, where our troops have retired.</p> + +<p>On Sunday, 23rd, we had rifle inspection at +11 a.m., and were ordered to fall in for bathing +parade at 11.30. While we were waiting for +another company to return from the river the +Germans commenced to shell the town. We +fell in about 1.0 p.m., an hour and a half afterwards, +to go to the scene of the attack. Shells +were bursting in the streets as we went. We +crossed a bridge over the canal under artillery +fire, and stood doing nothing behind a mill on +the bank for some time.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_151">151</a></span> +Then someone cried out that the Germans were +advancing along the canal bank, and our company +were ordered to go along. We thought we +were going to check the Germans, but we found +out afterwards that a company of our own regiment +were in position further along on the opposite +side of the canal, and we were being sent out to +reinforce them.</p> + +<p>There was no means of crossing the canal at +that point, so it was an impossibility. As soon +as we started to move we were spotted by the +Germans, who opened fire with their guns at about +five hundred yards with shrapnel, and the scene +that followed beggars description. Several of +us were laid full length behind a wooden fence +about half an inch thick. The German shells +burst about three yards in front of it. It was +blown to splinters in about ten minutes. None +of us expected to get out alive.</p> + +<p>They kept us there about an hour before they +gave us the word to retire. I had just turned +round to go back when I stopped one. It hits +you with an awful thump, and I thought it had +caught me at the bottom of the spine, as it +numbed my legs for about half an hour.</p> + +<p>When I found I could not walk I gave it up. +Just after, I got my first view of the Germans.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_152">152</a></span> +They were coming out of a wood about 400 yards +away all in a heap together, so I thought as I +was done for I would get a bit of my own back, +and I started pumping a bit of lead into them.</p> + +<p>I stuck there for about three-quarters of an +hour, and fired all my own ammunition and a lot +belonging to two more wounded men who were +close to me—about 300 rounds altogether, and +as it was such a good target I guess I accounted +for a good lot of them.</p> + +<p>Then I suddenly discovered I could walk, +and so I set off to get back. I had to walk about +150 yards in the open, with shrapnel bursting +around me all the way, but somehow or other I +got back without catching another. It was +more than I expected, I can assure you, and I +laughed when I got in the shelter of the mill +again.</p> + +<p>I was very sorry to have to leave the other +chaps who were wounded, but as I could only +just limp along I could not help them in any way. +They were brought in later by stretcher bearers.</p> + +<p>A man who was at Paardeburg and Magersfontein, +in South Africa, said they were nothing +to what we got that Sunday. Out of 240 men +of my company only about twenty were uninjured.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_153">153</a></span></p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 69.—From an Infantryman in hospital</i> +(<i>Published in the “Aldershot News”</i>):</h3> + +<p>I found myself mixed up with a French +regiment on the right. I wanted to go forward +with them, but the officer in charge shook his +head and smiled, “They will spot you in your +khaki and put you out in no time,” he said in +English; “make your way to the left; you’ll +find your fellows on that hill.” I watched the +regiment till it disappeared; then I made my +way across a field and up a big avenue of trees. +The shells were whistling overhead, but there +was nothing to be afraid of. Halfway up the +avenue there was a German lancer officer lying +dead by the side of the road. How he got there +was a mystery, because we had seen no cavalry. +But there he lay, and someone had crossed his +hands on his breast, and put a little celluloid +crucifix in his hands. Over his face was a beautiful +little handkerchief—a lady’s—with lace +edging. It was a bit of a mystery, because there +wasn’t a lady for miles that I knew of.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_154">154</a></span></p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 70.—From Sapper H. Mugridge, R.E., to +his mother at Uckfield:</i></h3> + +<p>We met the Germans at Landrecies on Sunday. +We had a fifteen-hour battle. It was +terrible. There were 120,000 Germans and only +20,000 of us, but our men fought well. We blew +up six bridges. Laid our charges in the afternoon, +and the whole time we were doing it were not +hit. After we had got everything ready we got +back into cover and waited until 1.30 on Monday +morning, until our troops had got back over the +river, and then we blew up the bridges. We +retired about thirty miles. The town where we +stopped on Sunday was a beautiful place, but the +Germans destroyed it. Close to where I was a +church had been used as a hospital, and our +wounded were coming by the dozens. But, +terrible to say, the Germans blew the place up. +They have no pity. They kill our wounded and +drive the people before them.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_155">155</a></span></p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 71.—From Sapper H. Mugridge, R.E.</i> +(<i>Second letter, published in the “Sussex Daily +News”</i>):</h3> + +<p>We were laying our gun cotton—ten of us +were the last to leave, and the Germans stopped +us. We had to run for it down the main street +of the town of Landrecies, and, being dark, we +could not see where we were going. We got +caught in some telegraph wires which had been +put across the street. We had to cut them away +with our bayonets. On Monday morning, when +things were quieter, we went nearly into the +German lines. We could hear them giving orders. +Our job was to put barbed wire across the road. +I was thankful to get out of it. We could see +the Germans burning their dead. They must +have lost a few thousand men, as our troops +simply mowed them down.</p> + +<p>I saw one sergeant kill fourteen Germans, one +after the other. They came up in fifties, all in a +cluster, and you couldn’t help hitting them. +They were only 400 yards from us all day on +Sunday. They are very cruel. Our people used +a church for a hospital, and it was filled with our +wounded, but the place was shelled and knocked +down. They stabbed a good many of our men +while lying on the battlefield. They have no<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_156">156</a></span> +respect for the Red Cross. To see women and +children driven from home and walking the roads +is terrible—old men and women just the same. +At the town where we were we got cut off from +our people—eighteen of us—and the houses were +being toppled over by the German artillery. +The people clung around us, asking us to stay +with them, but it was no good. When we left, +the town was in flames. But our men did fight +well. You never saw anything so cool in your +life. Anyone would have thought it was a football +match, for they were joking and laughing +with one another.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 72.—From John Baker, of the Royal Flying +Corps, to his parents at Boston, Lincolnshire:</i></h3> + +<p>While flying over Boulogne at a height of +3,000 feet, something went wrong with the +machine, and the engine stopped. The officer +said, “Baker, our time has come. Be brave, +and die like a man. Good-bye,” and shook hands +with me. I shall always remember the ten +minutes that followed. The next I remembered +was that I was in a barn. I was removed to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_157">157</a></span> +Boulogne, and afterwards to Netheravon, being +conveyed from Southampton by motor ambulance.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 73.—From Private G. Rider:</i></h3> + +<p>The Germans are good and bad as fighters, +but mostly bad so far as I have seen. They are +nearly all long distance champions in the fighting +line, and won’t come too near unless they are +made to. Yesterday we had a whole day of it +in the trenches, with the Germans firing away +at us all the time. It began just after breakfast, +and we were without food of any kind until we +had what you might call a dainty afternoon tea +in the trenches under shell fire. The mugs were +passed round with the biscuits and the “bully” +as best they could by the mess orderlies, but it +was hard work getting through without getting +more than we wanted of lead rations. My next-door +neighbour, so to speak, got a shrapnel bullet +in his tin mug, and another two doors off had +his biscuit shot out of his hand when he was fool +enough to hold it up to show it to a chum in the +next trench.</p> + +<p>We are ready for anything that comes our<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_158">158</a></span> +way, and nothing would please us better than a +good big stand-up fight with the Germans on any +ground they please. We are all getting used to +the hard work of active service, and you very +seldom hear complaints from anybody. The +grousers, who are to be found in nearly every +regiment, seem to be on holiday for the war.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 74.—From Private Martin O’Keefe, of the +Royal Irish Rifles, to his friends at Belfast:</i></h3> + +<p>Our part in the fighting was limited almost +entirely to covering the retreat by a steady rifle +fire from hastily-prepared trenches. We were +thrown out along an extended front, and instructed +to hold our ground until the retiring +troops were signalled safe in the next position +allotted them. When this was done our turn +came, and we retired to a new position, our place +being taken by the light cavalry, who kept the +Germans in check as long as they could and then +fell back in their turn. The Germans made some +rather tricky moves in the hope of cutting us off +while we were on this dangerous duty, but our +flanks were protected by cavalry, French and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_159">159</a></span> +English, and they did not get very far without +having to fight. When they found the slightest +show of resistance they retreated, and tried to +find an easier way of getting in at us. The staff +were well pleased with the way we carried out the +duty given to us, and we were told that it had +saved our Army from very serious loss at one +critical point. We put in some wonderfully +effective shooting in the trenches, and the men +find it is much easier making good hits on active +service than at manœuvres. The Germans seemed +to think at first that we were as poor shots as they +are, and they were awfully sick when they had to +face our deadly fire for the first time.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 75.—From Sergeant W. Holmes:</i></h3> + +<p>We are off again, this time with some of the +French, and it’s enough to give you fits to hear +the Frenchmen trying to pick up the words of +“Cheer Boys, Cheer,” which we sing with great go +on the march. They haven’t any notion of what +the words mean, but they can tell from our manner +that they mean we’re in good heart, and that’s +infectious here. We lost our colonel and four<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_160">160</a></span> +other officers in our fight on Tuesday. It was +the hottest thing we were ever in. The colonel +was struck down when he was giving us the last +word of advice before we threw ourselves on the +enemy. We avenged him in fine style. His loss +was a great blow to us, for he was very popular. +It’s always the best officers, somehow, that get +hit the first, and there’s not a man in the regiment +who wouldn’t have given his life for him. He +was keen on discipline, but soldiers don’t think +any less of officers who are that. The German +officers are a rum lot. They don’t seem in too +great a hurry to expose their precious carcasses, +and so they “lead” from the rear all the time. +We see to it that they don’t benefit much by that, +you may be sure, and when it’s at all possible we +shoot at the skulking officers. That probably +accounts for the high death rate among German +officers. They seem terribly keen on pushing +their men forward into posts of danger, but they +are not so keen in leading the way, except in +retreat, when they are well to the fore. Our +cavalry are up to that little dodge, and so, when +they are riding out to intercept retreating +Germans, they always give special attention to the +officers.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_161">161</a></span></p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 76.—From Corporal J. Hammersley:</i></h3> + +<p>The Germans in front of us are about done +for, and that’s the truth of it. They have got +about as much fighting as humans can stand, +and it is about time they realised it. I don’t +agree with those who think this war is going to +last for a long time. The pace we go at on both +sides is too hot, and flesh and blood won’t stand +it for long. My impression is that there will be a +sudden collapse of the Germans that will astonish +everybody at home; but we are not leaving +much to chance, and we do all we can to hasten +the collapse. The Germans aren’t really cut +out for this sort of work. They are proper +bullies, who get on finely when everybody’s +lying bleeding at their feet, but they can’t +manage at all when they have to stand up to men +who can give them more than they bargain for.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 77.—From Lance-Corporal T. Williams:</i></h3> + +<p>We are now getting into our stride and +beginning to get a little of our own back out of +the Germans. They don’t like it at all now +that we are nearer to them in numbers, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_162">162</a></span> +their men all look like so many “Weary Willies”; +they are so tired. You might say they have got +“that tired feeling” bad, and so they have. +Some of them just drop into our arms when we +call on them to surrender as though it were the +thing they’d been waiting for all their lives.</p> + +<p>One chap who knows a little English told +us he was never more pleased to see the English +uniform in all his life before, for he was about fed +up with marching and fighting in the inhuman +way the German officers expect their men to go +on. When we took him to camp he lay down +and slept like a log for hours; he was so done +up.</p> + +<p>That’s typical of the Germans now, and it +looks as though the Kaiser were going to have +to pay a big price for taxing his men so terribly. +You can’t help being sorry for the poor fellows. +They all say they were told when setting out +that it would be child’s play beating us, as our +army was the poorest stuff in the world. Those +who had had experience in England didn’t take +that in altogether, but the country yokels and +those who had never been outside their own +towns believed it until they had a taste of our +fighting quality, and then they laughed with the +other side of their faces.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_163">163</a></span> +That’s the Germans all over, to “kid” themselves +into the belief that they have got a soft +thing, and then when they find it’s too hard, to +run away from it. Our lads have made up their +minds to give them no rest once we get on to +them, and they’ll get as much of the British +Army as they can stand, and maybe a little more. +The French are greatly pleased with the show +we made in the field, and are in much better +spirits than they were.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 78.—From a Non-commissioned Officer of +Dragoons:</i></h3> + +<p>All our men—in fact, the whole British Army—are +as fit as a fiddle, and the lads are as keen +as mustard. There is no holding them back. +At Mons we were under General Chetwode, and +horses and men positively flew at the Germans, +cutting through much heavier mounts and heavier +men than ours. The yelling and the dash of the +Lancers and Dragoon Guards was a thing never +to be forgotten. We lost very heavily at Mons, +and it is a marvel how some of our fellows pulled +through and positively frightened the enemy. +We did some terrible execution, and our wrists<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_164">164</a></span> +were feeling the strain of heavy riding before +sunset. With our tunics unbuttoned, we had +the full use of our right arm for attack and +defence.</p> + +<p>After Mons I went with a small party scouting, +and we again engaged about twenty cavalry, +cut off from their main body. We killed nine, +wounded six, and gave chase to the remaining +five, who, in rejoining their unit, nearly were +the means of trapping us. However, our men +dispersed and hid in a wood until they fell in with +a squadron of the ——, and so reached camp in +safety. After that a smart young corporal +accompanied me to reconnoitre, and we went +too far ahead, and were cut off in a part of the +country thick with Uhlans. As we rode in the +direction of —— two wounded men were limping +along, both with legs damaged, one from the +Middlesex and the other Lancashire Fusiliers, +and so we took them up.</p> + +<p>Corporal Watherston took one behind his +saddle and I took the other. The men were +hungry, and tattered to shreds with fighting, but +in fine spirits. We soon came across a small +village, and I found the curé a grand sportsman +and full of pluck and hospitality. He seemed +charmed to find a friend who was English, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_165">165</a></span> +told me that the Germans were dressed in the +uniforms of British soldiers, which they took +from the dead and from prisoners in order to +deceive French villagers, who in many places +in that district had welcomed these wolves in +sheep’s clothing. We were warned that the +enemy would be sure to track us up to the village. +The curé said he could hide the two wounded men +in the crypt of his church and put up beds for +them. It has a secret trapdoor, and was an +ancient treasure-house of a feudal lord, whose +castle we saw in ruins at the top of the hill close by.</p> + +<p>Then he hid away our saddlery and uniforms +in the roof of a barn, and insisted upon our making +a rest-chamber of the tower of his church, which +was approached by a ladder, which we were to +pull up to the belfry as soon as we got there. +He smuggled in wine and meat and bread and +cakes, fruit and cigarettes, with plenty of bedding +pulled up by a rope. We slept soundly, and the +owls seemed the only other tenants, who resented +our intrusion. No troops passed through the +village that night. In the morning the curé +came round at six o’clock, and we heard him say +Mass. After that we let down the ladder, and +he came up with delicious hot chocolate and a +basket of rolls and butter.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_166">166</a></span> +Our horses he had placed in different stables +a mile apart, and put French “fittings” on them, +so as to deceive the enemy. He thinks we are +well away from the main body of the German +army moving in the direction of Paris, but will +not hear of our leaving here for at least three days. +But I cried, “Curé, we are deserters!” The old +man wept and said, “Deserters, no, no—saviours, +saviours; you have rescued France from the +torments of slavery.”</p> + +<p>However, we have now secured complete +disguises as French cultivateurs—baggy corderoy +trousers, blue shirts, boots, stockings, belt, hat, +cravat, everything to match—and as we have not +shaved for two weeks, and are bronzed with the +sun, I think that the corporal and myself can pass +anywhere as French peasants, if only he will +leave all the talking to me.</p> + +<p>The two wounded soldiers don’t wish us to +leave them, because I am interpreter, and not a +soul speaks English in the village. So we have +explained to the curé that we shall stay here until +our comrades are able to walk, and then the party +of four will push our way out somewhere on horseback +and get to the coast. The sacristan at once +offered to be our guide, and it is arranged that +we take a carrier’s wagon which travels in this<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_167">167</a></span> +district and drive our own horses in it, and pick +up two additional mounts at a larger village on +the way to the coast.</p> + +<p>We must get back as soon as ever we can. +Nothing could be kinder than the people here, +but this is not what we came to France for, and +hanging about in a French village is not exactly +what a soldier calls “cricket.”</p> + +<p>You cannot imagine how complete the +Germans are in the matter of rapid transport. +Large automobiles, such as the railway companies +have for towns round Harrogate and Scarborough, +built like char-à-bancs, carry the soldiers in +batches of fifty, so that they are as fresh as paint +when they get to the front. But in point of +numbers I think one of our side is a fair match +for four of the enemy. I hope that the British +public are beginning to understand what this +war means. The German is not a toy terrier, +but a bloodhound absolutely thirsty for blood.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 79.—From Private Tom Savage, to his +relatives at Larne:</i></h3> + +<p class="sigright">At Sea.</p> + +<p>Just a line to let you know that we are +landing outside ——. They kept us without<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_168">168</a></span> +any knowledge of how and where we were going +till the last moment. I am quite well and extra +specially fit. It is good fun on a troopship, +and we are going to have a nice little holiday +on the Continent. I’ll be able to “swank French” +when I come back. I’ll write a good long letter +when I settle down. I’m writing this at tea time +just before we land. I have got two very nice +chums, Jack Wright, the footballer, who has +seen service before, and Billy Caughey, both of +Belfast.</p> + +<p class="p1 sigright">In France.</p> + +<p>I am writing this note while on outpost +duty. I can’t say where we are, or anything +like that, but I am in the best of health and +enjoying the life. I am getting a fine hand at +French. There is plenty of food and the people +are all very nice. It’s great fun trying to understand +them. Plenty of fruit here, pears and +apples galore, and as for bread big long rolls and +rings of it, and all very cheap. When you happen +to be riding through a town the people give you +cigarettes, fruit, chocolates, and cider.</p> + +<p>If you are all extra good I’ll bring you home +a pet German. How is Home Rule getting on? +Send me a paper, but I don’t know when I’ll +get it or you’ll get this. I suppose the papers are<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_169">169</a></span> +full of this ruction. I can write no more as I’ll +soon have to go on guard.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 80.—From Mons. E. Hovelange, of Paris, +written on August 30th, to Sir William Collins</i> +(<cite>Published in the “Sussex Daily News”</cite>):</h3> + +<p>How serious the situation is here it is hard +for you to realize in London. We may be encircled +at any moment by these hordes of savages. +Such murderous cruelty has never been seen in +the annals of war. The Turks and the Bulgarians +were no worse. It is the rule to fire on ambulances +and slaughter the wounded. I know it from eye-witnesses. +The Germans are drunk with savagery. +It is an orgy of the basest cruelty. They are +rushing Paris at all costs, squandering their men +recklessly in overwhelming numbers. Our troops +are submerged and can only retreat, fighting +desperately, but the spirit of our soldiers is +splendid. All the wounded I have seen laugh +and joke over their wounds and are burning to +have another go at the barbarians. Victory is +certain. But what disastrous changes shall we +know before it comes. I am prepared for the +worst—another month of hopeless struggle<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_170">170</a></span> +perhaps. But we will light to the last man. The +tide will turn, and then—woe to them. I know +you will stand by us in the cause of civilization, +common honest truth till the bitter end. But +if you want to help us you must hasten.</p> + +<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div> + +<h3 class="hang"><i>Letter 81.—From a young officer who has been +through the whole campaign, from the landing +of the British at Boulogne:</i></h3> + +<p>I wish you would try to make the people +in England understand that they should be +most exceedingly thankful that they are living +on an island and not in the midst of the +dreadful things which are happening on the Continent. +Do enforce upon the public that England +must fight this thing out, and must conquer +even if it has to spend the blood of its young men +like water. It will be far better that every family +throughout England should have to sorrow for +one of its members than that England should +have to go through similar ordeals to those which +Continental countries are suffering.</p> + +<p>The sight of old women and men fleeing +from village to village; young mothers with +babies in arms, with their few personal effects<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_171">171</a></span> +on their backs, or in some more fortunate cases +with their goods and chattels surrounding the +aged grandmother stowed away in an old farm +cart, drawn by a nag too venerable to be of +service to the State; this is what one has seen +daily. Picture to yourself our night marches +with the burning villages on all sides set fire +to by German shells—and the Germans have +been rather careless whether their shells struck +fortified and defended positions, or open ones. +In some cases the fires were caused intentionally +by marauding patrols.</p> + +<p>Do not imagine that things are not going +well with us. We are all satisfied and confident +of the end; but at the same time the only possible +end can be gained by sacrifice on the part +of those at home only. All is well with me +personally; I have a busy time, but it is most +interesting work.</p> + +<h3>IN HOSPITAL.</h3> + +<p class="in0">(1) <i>At Salisbury.</i></p> + +<p class="p1">A non-commissioned officer of the Royal Field +Artillery, invalided home with shrapnel wounds +in the thigh, from which he hopes soon to recover, +has given this vivid description of his<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_172">172</a></span> +experiences at the front after passing north of +Amiens, to a <cite>Daily Telegraph</cite> correspondent:</p> + +<p class="p2">Pushing forward from our rest camp, covering +from twenty to thirty miles a day, with the +infantry marching in front and cavalry protecting +us on either flank, we received information +that we were within a few hours’ march of +the enemy. Needless to say, this put us on +the alert. There was no funk about us, for we +were all anxious to have a go at the Germans, +about whom we had heard such tales of cruelty +that it made our blood run cold.</p> + +<p>Our orders were to load with case shot, for +fear of cavalry attack, as shrapnel is of little +use against mounted troops. The order was +soon obeyed, and after passing the day on the +road, we moved across country north of ——, +where the infantry took up a strong position. +We saw the French troops on our right as we +moved up to gun positions which our battery +commanders had selected in advance. It was +Sunday morning when the attack came, and the +sun had already lit up the beautiful country, +and as I looked across at the villages which +lay below in the valley with their silent belfries +I thought of my home on the Cotswolds and of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_173">173</a></span> +the bells ringing for morning service. I pictured +dad and my sister Nell going to church.</p> + +<p>It was, however, no time for sentiment, for +gallopers soon brought the news that the enemy +was advancing, and that a cavalry attack might +be expected at any moment. Infantry had +entrenched themselves along our front, and +there was a strong body posted on our flanks +and rear. These became engaged first with a +large body of Uhlans, who endeavoured to take +them by surprise, the front rank rushing forward +with the lance and the rear using the sword.</p> + +<p>We were on slightly higher ground, and +could see the combat, which appeared to be +going in our favour. Our men stuck to their +ground and shot and bayonetted the Uhlans, who, +after ten minutes’ fight, made off, but, sad to +say, a dreadful fusilade of shrapnel and Maxim +fire followed immediately, and our guns also +came under fire. To this we readily replied, +and must have done some execution, especially +to the large masses of infantry that were advancing +about a mile away.</p> + +<p>We got a favourable “bracket” at once, so +our Major said, and we worked our guns for all +we were worth, altering fuses and the ranging +of our guns as the Germans came nearer. Shells<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_174">174</a></span> +fell fast around us, some ricocheted, and passed +overhead without bursting, ploughing the ground +up in our rear, but not a few exploded, and made +many casualties. Three of my gun detachment +fell with shrapnel bullets, but still we kept the +guns going, the officers giving a hand.</p> + +<p>At one time we came under the fire of the +enemy’s machine guns, but two of our 18-pounders +put them out of action after a few rounds. The +order came at length to retire so as to get a more +favourable position, but our drivers failed to +bring back all the gun teams, only sufficient to +horse four of the guns. The remainder of the +animals had been terribly mutilated. These +were limbered up, the remainder being for a time +protected by the infantry. The Gordons and +Middlesex were in the shelter trenches on our +left, and the latter regiment was said at one +time to be almost overwhelmed, but aid came, +and the masses of Prussian infantry were beaten +off.</p> + +<p>Still, there was terrible slaughter on both +sides, and the dead lay in long burrows on the +turf. We should have lost our guns to the +Uhlans if the infantry had not persevered with +the rifle, picking off the cavalry at 800 yards.</p> + +<p>It was grand shooting. In the afternoon<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_175">175</a></span> +we slackened fire, as also did the Germans; in +fact, we did but little from our new gun positions, +as we were destined to cover the retreat of the +infantry later on.</p> + +<p>As the wounded were brought to the rear +we heard of the deeds of heroism from the men +of the Royal Army Medical Corps in the fighting +line—how an officer stood over the body of a +private who had previously saved his life until +he had spent his last shot from his revolver, and +then fell seriously wounded, to be avenged the +next moment by a burly sergeant who plunged +his bayonet into the Prussian.</p> + +<p>In the ranks of the South Lancashire Regiment, +from what has been heard, many deserve +the Distinguished Conduct Medal, if not the +V.C., for the manner in which they charged +masses of German infantry through the village +to our front. Uhlans got round behind them, +but they did not flinch, although serious gaps +were made in their ranks.</p> + +<p>A non-commissioned officer of the Medicals +related how he saw a party of Fusiliers rush to +the aid of their Maxim gun party when Uhlans +swept down on them from behind a wood. They +accounted for over twenty and lost but one man.</p> + +<p>At night we were ordered to move on again,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_176">176</a></span> +and we marched south-west in the direction of +——, covering twenty miles in the darkness. +Our unhorsed guns were got through by splitting +up our teams, and with the help of the +brawny arms of the infantry.</p> + +<p>The enemy were aware of our retreat, and +kept up an incessant fire, bringing searchlights +to the aid of their gunners. The moon slightly +favoured us, and, with the help of local guides, +we found our way. I heard of the brilliant work +performed by our battalions, who kept the enemy +at bay whilst we withdrew all our vehicles, and +we gunners felt proud of them. They kept the +enemy busy by counter-attack, and made it +impossible to get round us.</p> + +<p>Next morning the enemy were again in the +field endeavouring to force our left flank. Field-Marshal +Sir John French, whom we saw early in +the day, was, however, equal to the occasion, and +so manœuvred his troops that we occupied a +position from which the Germans could not +dislodge us. The artillery kept up long-range +fire, and that is how I received my wound. +Within a few minutes first aid was rendered, and +I was put in an ambulance and taken off with +other wounded to a field hospital, where I met +with every attention.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_177">177</a></span></p> + +<h3>IN HOSPITAL.</h3> + +<p class="in0">(2) <i>At the London Hospital.</i></p> + +<p>By a <cite>Daily Telegraph</cite> correspondent.</p> + +<p class="p1">A description of a thrilling fight in the air, +which had a dramatic climax, was given to +Queen Alexandra when her Majesty paid a visit +to the London Hospital.</p> + +<p>Among the wounded soldiers there is a private +of the Royal Engineers, who was himself witness +of the incident.</p> + +<p>He said that following a very hard fight on +the day before, he was lying on the ground with +his regiment, resting. Suddenly a German +aeroplane hove in sight. It flew right over the +British troops, and commenced to signal their +position to the German camp.</p> + +<p>A minute later, amid intense excitement of +the troops, two aeroplanes, with English and +French pilots, rose into the air from the British +rear. Ascending with great rapidity, they made +for the German aeroplane, with the intention of +attacking it.</p> + +<p>At first some of our men, who were very much +on the alert, fired by mistake at the French +aeroplane. Luckily, their shots went wide.</p> + +<p>Then the troops lay still, and with breathless<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_178">178</a></span> +interest watched the attempts of the French +and British aviators to outmanœuvre their +opponent, and to cut off his retreat. After a +little time the Franco-British airmen abandoned +this attempt, and then the Englishman and the +German began to fly upwards, in the evident +desire to obtain a more favourable position for +shooting down from above. Owing to the +protection afforded by the machine, it would have +been of little use for one aviator to fire at his +opponent from below. Once a higher altitude +was attained, the opportunity for effective aim +would be much greater.</p> + +<p>Up and up circled the two airmen, till their +machines could barely be distinguished from +the ground. They were almost out of sight +when the soldiers saw that the British aviator +was above his opponent. Then the faint sound +of a shot came down from the sky, and instantly +the German aeroplane began to descend, vol-planing +in graceful fashion. Apparently it was +under the most perfect control. On reaching +the earth the machine landed with no great +shock, ran a short distance along the ground, and +then stopped.</p> + +<p>Rushing to the spot, the British soldiers found, +to their amazement, that the pilot was dead.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_179">179</a></span> +So fortunate had been the aim of the Englishman +that he had shot the German through the head. +In his dying moments the latter had started to +descend, and when he reached the earth his hands +still firmly gripped the controls.</p> + +<p>The aeroplane was absolutely undamaged, and +was appropriated by the British aviators.</p> + +<h3>IN HOSPITAL.</h3> + +<p class="in0 hang">(3) <cite>From a “Daily Telegraph” correspondent at Rouen</cite>:</p> + +<p class="p1">It was known that there were British wounded +in Rouen—I had even spoken to one of them in +the streets—but how was one to see them? +The police commissaire sent me to his central +colleague, who sent me on to the état major, who +was anxious to send me back to him, but finally +suggested that I should see the military commissary +at one of the stations. He was courteous, +but very firm—the authorisation I asked for +could not be, and was not, granted to anyone. +At the headquarters of the British General Staff +the same answer in even less ambiguous terms.</p> + +<p>It was then that Privates X., Y., Z. came to +my aid. Private Z. had a request to make of me. +It was that I should see to it that the black +retriever of his regiment now at the front should<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_180">180</a></span> +be photographed, and that the photograph should +appear in <cite>The Daily Telegraph</cite>. Private Z. had +a temperature of 102·5, and looked it, but he was +not worrying about that. He was worrying +about the photograph of the regimental retriever, +which I understood him to say, though dates +make it almost incredible, had gone through the +Boer campaign, and had not yet had his photograph +in the papers. So I met by appointment +Privates X., Y., and Z. outside the Hospice +Général of Rouen, and by them was franked in +to the hospital, where a few dozen of our wounded +were sunning themselves. It was just time, and +no more, as orders had been received a few +minutes before that the British wounded were +to be transferred from Rouen to London, for +something grave was afoot.</p> + +<p>“Do you want to get back to England?” +someone called out to a soldier whose arm was +in a sling, and the whole sleeve of whose jacket +had been ripped by the fragment of a shell.</p> + +<p>“Not I,” he shouted; “I want to go to the +front again and get my sleeve back, and something +more.”</p> + +<p>I managed to speak with two or three of the +wounded as they were getting ready for the +start. One of them, an artilleryman, had been<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_181">181</a></span> +injured by his horses falling on him at Ligny, +I guessed it was—only guessed, for Tommy +charges a French word as bravely and much less +successfully than he charges the enemy. It was +the same story that one hears from all, of a heroic +struggle against overwhelming odds. “They +were ten to one against us, in my opinion,” he +said. “They were all over us. Their artillery +found the range by means of aeroplanes. The +shell fire was terrible.”</p> + +<p>He says that it was very accurate, but that +fortunately the quality of the shells is not up +to that of the shooting. My informant’s division +held out for twenty-four hours against the overwhelming +odds. Then, when the Germans had +managed to get a battery into action behind, +they retired during the night of Wednesday, +steadily and in excellent order, keeping the +German pursuit at bay. The next man I spoke +to really spoke to me. He was anxious to tell his +story.</p> + +<p>“I have been in the thick of it,” he said; “in +the very thick of it. I was one of the chauffeurs +in the service of the British General Staff.”</p> + +<p>He told me that he was not a Regular soldier, +but a volunteer from the Automobile Club, an +American who had become a naturalised English<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_182">182</a></span> +citizen, and had once been a journalist. His own +injury, a burnt arm, was from a back-fire, but +his escape from the German bullets had been +almost miraculous. Three staff officers, one after +another, had been hit in the body of the car behind +him. This is his story:</p> + +<p>“On Friday, the 25th, the British were just +outside Le Cateau. On Saturday morning the +approach of the Germans in force was signalled. +On Sunday morning at daybreak a German +aeroplane flew over our lines, and, although fired +at by the aeroplane gun mounted in the car, and +received with volleys from the troops, managed +to rejoin its lines. Twenty minutes later the +German artillery opened fire with accuracy. +The aeroplane, as so often, had done its work +as range-finder. For twelve hours the cannonade +went on. Then the British forces retreated six +miles. On Monday morning the bombardment +began again, and at two that afternoon the German +forces entered Le Cateau from which the English +had retired. Many of the houses were in flames. +The Germans, who had ruthlessly bayonetted +our wounded if they moved so much as a finger +as they lay on the ground, were guilty of brutal +conduct when they entered the city.</p> + +<p>“On Tuesday, the British, who had retired to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_183">183</a></span> +Landrecies, were again attacked by the Germans. +They believed, wrongly, that on their right was +a supporting French force. The range was again +found by aeroplane, and the British were compelled +to evacuate. That was on Tuesday. The +British troops had been fighting steadily for four +days, but their morale and their spirits had not +suffered.”</p> + +<p>As I write, a detachment of the R.A.M.C. is +filing past, and people have risen from their chairs +and are cheering and saluting. Half an hour ago +Engineers passed with their pontoons decorated +with flowers and greenery. The men had flowers +in their caps, and even the horses were flower-decked. +Tommy Atkins has the completest +faith in his leaders and in himself. He quite +realises the necessity for secrecy of operations in +modern warfare. Of course, he has his own +theories. This is one of them textually:</p> + +<p>“The Germans are simply walking into it. +Of course, we have had losses, but that was +part of the plan—the sprat to catch the whale. +They are going to find themselves in a square +between four allied armies, and then,”—so far +Private X., but here Private Y. broke in cheerfully: +“And then they will be electrocuted.”</p> + +<p class="p2">And at this moment it begins to look as if—apart<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_184">184</a></span> +from that detail of the square of four +armies—Privates X. and Y. had known what +they were talking about; for some few days +ago the great retreat came to an abrupt end, +the British and French forces carrying out +General Joffre’s carefully laid plan of campaign, +turned their defensive movement into a combined +attack, the Germans fell back before them +and are still retiring. They marched through +Belgium into France with heavy fighting and +appalling losses, only to be held in check at the +right place and time and beaten back by the +road they had come, when Paris seemed almost +at their mercy. But that retirement is another +story.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_185">185</a></span></p> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="vspace"><a id="VI"></a>VI<br /> + +<span class="subhead"><span class="smcap">The Spirit of Victory</span></span></h2> +</div> + +<div class="poem-container"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="iq">“<i>He only knows that not through</i> <span class="smcap smaller">HIM</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Shall England come to shame</i>.”<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="attrib"><span class="smcap">Sir F. H. Doyle.</span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<p>Even through those three weeks when they +were retreating before the enemy, the whole spirit +of the British troops was the spirit of men who +are fighting to win. There is no hint of doubt or +despondency in any of their letters home. They +talk lightly of their hardest, most terrible experiences; +they greet the unseen with a cheer; +you hear of them cracking jokes, boyishly guying +each other, singing songs as they march and as +they lie in the trenches with shells bursting and +shots screaming close over their heads. They +carried out their retreats grudgingly, but without +dismay, in the fixed confidence that their leaders +knew what they were after, and that in due time +they would find they had only been stooping to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_186">186</a></span> +conquer. “They won’t let us have a fair smack +at them,” says “Spratty,” of the Army Service +Corps, in a letter home. “I have never seen +such a sight before. God knows whose turn is +next, but we shall win, don’t worry.” This is +the watchword of them all: “Don’t worry—we +shall win.”</p> + +<p>“Wine is offered us instead of water by the +people,” wrote Private S. Browne, whilst his +regiment was marching through France to the +front; “but officers and men are refusing it. +Some of the hardest drinkers in the regiment +have signed the pledge for the war.”</p> + +<p>“Tommy goes into battle,” a French soldier +told a reporter at Dieppe, “singing some song +about Tip-Tip-Tip-Tipperary, and when he is +hit he does not cry out. He just says ‘blast,’ +and if the wound is a small one he asks the man +next to him to tie a tourniquet round it and settles +down to fighting again.” A corporal of the Black +Watch explained to a hospital visitor, “It was +a terrible bit of work. The Germans were as +thick as Hielan’ heather, and by sheer weight +forced us back step by step. But until the +order came not a living man flinched. In the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_187">187</a></span> +thick of the bursting shells we were singing Harry +Lauder’s latest.”</p> + +<p>Trooper George Pritchard wrote to his mother +from Netley Hospital the other day: “I got hit +in the arm from a shell. Seven of our officers +got killed last Thursday, but Captain Grenfell +was saved at the same time as me. What do +you think of the charge of the 9th? It is +worth getting hit for.”</p> + +<p>“We are all in good heart, and ready for the +next round whenever it may come,” writes +Private J. Scott, from his place in the field; +and “South Africa was child’s play to what we +have been through,” writes Corporal Brogan, +“but we are beginning to feel our feet now, +and are equal to a lot more gruelling.”</p> + +<p>“We are all beat up after four days of the +hardest soldiering you ever dreamt of,” Private +Patrick McGlade says in a letter to his mother. +“I am glad to say we accounted for our share of +the Germans. We tried hard to get at them +many a time, but they never would wait for us +when they saw the bright bits of steel at the +business end of our rifles. Some of them squeal +like the pigs on killing day when they see the +steel ready. Some of our finest lads are now<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_188">188</a></span> +sleeping their last sleep in Belgium, but, mother +dear, you can take your son’s word for it that +for every son of Ireland who will never come back +there are at least three Germans who will never +be heard of again. When we got here we sang +‘Paddies Evermore,’ and then we were off to +chapel to pray for the souls of the lads that are +gone.”</p> + +<p>“Some of us feel very strongly about being +sent home for scratches that will heal,” writes +Corporal A. Hands. “Don’t believe half the +stories about our hardships. I haven’t seen or +heard of a man who made complaint of anything. +You can’t expect a six-course dinner on active +service, but we get plenty to fight on.”</p> + +<p>Cases of personal pluck were so common that +we soon ceased to take notice of them, a wounded +driver in the Royal Artillery told an interviewer. +“There was a man of the Buffs, who carried a +wounded chum for over a mile under German +fire, but if you suggested a Victoria Cross for that +man he would punch your head, and as he is a +regular devil when roused the men say as little +as they can about it. He thinks he didn’t do +anything out of the common, and doesn’t see +why his name should be dragged into the papers +over it. Another case I heard of was a corporal<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_189">189</a></span> +of the Fusilier Brigade—I don’t know his regiment—who +held a company of Germans at bay for +two hours by the old trick of firing at them from +different points, and so making them think they +had a crowd to face. He was getting on very well +until a party of cavalry outflanked him, as you +might say, and as they were right on top of him +there was no kidding about his ‘strength,’ so he +skedaddled, and the Germans took the position +he had held so long. He got back to his mates all +right, and they were glad to see him, for they had +given him up for dead.”</p> + +<p>“No regiment fought harder than we did, and +no regiment has better officers, who went shoulder +to shoulder with their men,” says a non-commissioned +officer of the Buffs, writing from hospital, +“but you can’t expect absolute impossibilities +to be accomplished, no matter how brave the boys +are, when you are fighting a force from twenty to +thirty times as strong. If some of you at home who +have spoken sneeringly of British officers could +have seen how they handled their men and shirked +nothing you would be ashamed of yourselves. We +are all determined when fit again to return and +get our own back.”</p> + +<p>Everywhere you find that the one cry of the +soldiers who are invalided home—they are<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_190">190</a></span> +impatient to be cured quickly and get back “to +have another slap at them.” We know how our +women here at home share that eager enthusiasm +in this the most righteous war Britain has +ever gone into; and isn’t there something that +stirs you like the sound of a trumpet in such a +passage as this from the letter a Scottish nun +living in Belgium has written to her mother?</p> + +<p class="p2">“I am glad England is aroused, and that the +British lion is out with all his teeth showing. +Here these little lions of Belgians are raging +mad and doing glorious things.</p> + +<p>“Tell father I am cheery, and feel sometimes +far too warlike for a nun. That’s my Scottish +blood. I hope to goodness the Highlanders, if +they come, will march down another street on +their way to the caserne, or I shall shout and +yell and cheer them, and forget I mustn’t look +out of the window.”</p> + +<p class="p2">An extract from Sergeant T. Cahill’s letter to +his friends at Bristol gives you a snap-shot of +our women in the firing line, and of the fearless +jollity and light-heartedness with which our +Irish comrades meet the worst that their enemies +can do:</p> + +<p class="p2"><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_191">191</a></span> +“The Red Cross girleens, with their purty +faces and their sweet ways, are as good men +as most of us, and better than some of us. They +are not supposed to venture into the firing +line at all, but they get there all the same, and +devil the one of us durst turn them away,” and +he goes on casually, “Mick Clancy is that droll +with his larking and bamboozling the Germans +that he makes us nearly split our sides laughing +at him and his ways. Yesterday he got a stick +and put a cap on it so that it peeped above the +trenches just like a man, and then the Germans +kept shooting away at it until they must have +used up tons of ammunition, and there was us +all the time laughing at them.”</p> + +<p>But I think there is perhaps nothing in these +letters that is more touching or more finely significant +than this:</p> + +<p>“The other day I stopped to assist a young +lad of the West Kents, who had been badly +hit by a piece of shell,” writes Corporal Sam +Haslett. “He hadn’t long to live, and knew +it, but he wasn’t at all put out about it. I +asked him if there was any message I could +take to any one at home, and the poor lad’s +eyes filled with tears as he answered: ‘I ran +away from home and ’listed a year ago. Mother<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_192">192</a></span> +and dad don’t know I’m here, but you tell them +that I’m not sorry I did it.’ When I told our +boys afterwards, they cried like babies, but, mind +you, that’s the spirit that’s going to pull England +through this war. I got his name and the +address of his people from his regiment, and I am +writing to tell them that they have every reason +to be proud of their lad. He may have run away +from home, but he didn’t run away from the +Germans.”</p> + +<p>And if you have caught the buoyant, heroic +ardour that rings through those careless, unstudied +notes our gallant fellows have written +home, you know that there is not a man in the +firing line who will.</p> + +<p class="p2 center smaller"> +<i>Wyman & Sons Ltd., Printers, London and Reading.</i> +</p> + +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="transnote"> +<h2 class="nobreak p1"><a id="Transcribers_Notes"></a>Transcriber’s Notes</h2> + +<p>Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a predominant +preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed.</p> + +<p>Simple typographical errors were corrected; occasional unbalanced +quotation marks retained.</p> + +<p>Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_68">68</a>: “smoking concerts” probably should be “smoking, concerts”.</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_72">72</a>: “from Mons, It was” was punctuated and capitalized that way.</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_150">150</a>: “1.0 p.m.” was printed that way.</p> +</div></div> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 53151 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |