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Read Ebook: Soldiers' Stories of the War by Wood Walter Editor Michael A C Arthur C Illustrator
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Ebook has 1120 lines and 91873 words, and 23 pages
PAGE
"We were helped by the Germans throwing searchlights on us" 2
"Some of our cavalry caught him" 16
"The Germans came on and hurled themselves against us" 38
"From behind trees we kept up a destructive fire on the enemy" 50
"I hoisted the trumpeter into the saddle" 62
"We found a fair lot of Germans in houses and farms" 80
"We were so near the Germans that they could hurl bombs at us" 102
"We had a very warm time of it" 112
"Planted a maxim on his knees and rattled into the Germans" 128
"The men were told to lay hands on anything that would float" 168
"Good swimmers were helping those who could not swim" 180
"A bullet struck him in the back and killed him" 202
"We were in a real hell of bursting shrapnel" 222
"I took him up and began to carry him" 234
"Before they knew what was happening the car was in the river" 244
"Cavalry and Guards got in amongst the Germans and fairly scattered them" 254
"I made a lunge at him, but just missed, and I saw his own long, ugly blade driven out" 286
"The infantry dashed on with the bayonet" 302
SOLDIERS' STORIES OF
THE WAR
MONS AND THE GREAT RETREAT
To be rushed from the routine of a soldier's life at home in time of peace into the thick of a fearful fight on the Continent is a strange and wonderful experience; yet it happened to me, and it was only one of many amazing experiences I went through between leaving Southampton in a transport and coming to a London hospital.
We landed at Boulogne, and went a long journey by train. At the end of it we found ourselves, on Saturday, August 22nd, billeted in a gentleman's big house and we looked forward to a comfortable night, little dreaming that so soon after leaving England we should be in the thick of a tremendous fight.
It was strange to be in a foreign country, but there was no time to dwell on that, and the British soldier soon makes himself at home, wherever he is. Those of us who were not on duty went to sleep; but we had not been resting very long when we were called to arms. That was about half-past three o'clock on the Sunday morning, August 23rd.
There was no bugle sound, no fuss, no noise; we were just quietly roused up by the pickets, and as quietly we marched out of the ch?teau and went along a big, sunken road--the main road to Paris, I think. We started at once to make trenches alongside the road, using the entrenching-tool which every soldier carries; and we went on steadily with that work for several hours on that August Sunday morning--a perfect Sabbath, with a wonderful air of peace about it. The country looked beautiful and prosperous--how soon it was to be turned into a blazing, ruined landscape, with thousands of dead and wounded men lying on it!
It would be about nine o'clock when we heard heavy firing in a wood near us--there is plenty of wooded country about Mons--and we were told that the engineers were blowing up obstacles; so we went on entrenching, for although we knew that the Germans were not far away, we had no idea they were as close as they soon proved to be.
I am a first-class scout, and, with a corporal and three men, I was sent on picket some time before noon.
Just on the right of us was a farm, and the people who came out gave us some beer and eggs. We drank
the beer and sucked the eggs, and uncommonly good they were, too, on that blazing hot August Sunday, when everything looked so pleasant and peaceful. You had it hot at home, I know; but I dare say we had it hotter, and we were in khaki, with a heavy kit to carry.
There was a big tree near us, and I made for it and climbed up, so that I could see better over the countryside. I was hanging on to a branch, and looking around, when all at once a bullet or two came, and we knew that the Germans had spotted us. I got down from that tree a vast deal quicker than I had got up into it, and we made ready to rush back to the trenches; but before scuttling we told the civilians to clear out at once, and they began to do so. The poor souls were taken aback, naturally, but they lost no time in obeying the warning, leaving all their worldly treasures--belongings which they were never to see again, for the German barbarians were soon to destroy them shamefully and mercilessly, and, worse than that, were to take the lives of innocent and inoffensive people who had not done them the slightest wrong in any way.
As soon as we had raised the alarm a whole section of Germans opened fire on the four of us, and as we could not do anything against them, being heavily outnumbered, we ran for it back to the trenches. Yes, we did run indeed, there is no mistake about that. Luckily for us we knew the way back; but if the Germans had been able to shoot for nuts with their rifles, not one of us would have been spared. We laughed as we ran, and one of the scouts, named Anderson, laughed so much that he could scarcely run, though there was nothing special to laugh at; but, as you know, there are some odd chaps amongst Highlanders. They don't care a rap for anything.
It was soon reported that there were in front of us about 15,000 Germans, including some of the finest of the Kaiser's troops, amongst them the Imperial Guard, who have worked military miracles--at peace manoeuvres. And to oppose that great body of men we had only the 8th Brigade, consisting of the Royal Scots, the Royal Irish, the Middlesex--the old "Die-Hards"--and the Gordon Highlanders, of which I was in B Company.
The Royal Scots were on our right, and the Royal Irish and the Middlesex on our left. We had Royal Field Artillery, too, and never did British gunners do more splendid work and cover themselves with greater glory than in the battle of Mons.
The Royal Irish were getting their dinners when the Germans opened fire on them with their machine-guns, doing some dreadful damage straight off, for they seemed to have the range, and there was no time for the Royal Irish to get under cover.
That, I think, was really the beginning of the battle; but I had better try and give you an idea of the battlefield, so that you can understand what actually took place.
Mons itself is a fair-sized manufacturing town, with plenty of coal-mines about, and we were in a pleasant village near it, the main road to Paris cutting through the village. From our trenches we could see across the country, towards the mines and other villages, and we had a clear rifle-range of well over a mile, because a lot of obstruction in the shape of hedges, foliage and corn had been cut away.
To our rear, on each side of us, was a forest, and between the two forests were our splendid gunners, who were to do such awful mischief in the German hosts. The "Die-Hards" were in a sort of garden, and I saw only too clearly what happened to them when the fight was in full swing.
It was just before noon when the most fearful part of the battle started, and that was the artillery duel. Our own guns were making a terrible commotion near us; but the din was a very comforting sound, because it meant something very bad for the German gunners, who were making havoc in our brigade.
I saw the awful effects of the German shrapnel amongst the men of the Middlesex in that fair Belgian garden on what should have been a peaceful Sunday afternoon. The Middlesex were practically blown to pieces, and the fearful way in which they suffered was shown later, when the casualty lists were published, and it was seen that most of them were either killed, wounded or missing.
Then the Gordons' turn came. The Germans had got our position, and they opened fire on us; but we were lucky--perhaps the German batteries were too far away to be really effective. At any rate, they did not harm us much.
The battle had opened swiftly, and it continued with amazing speed and fury, for both sides soon settled into their stride--and you know, of course, that the Germans were on the promenade to Paris and were going to mop the British Army up. It took a lot of mopping!
Our own field-gunners were doing magnificently, and the Germans were first-rate hands at the deadly game. If they had been anything like as accurate with the rifle as they were with the artillery I think that very few British soldiers would have been left to tell the tale of Mons. But with the rifle they were no good.
The Germans came out of their trenches in big heaps in close formation, because their game was to rush us by sheer weight of numbers; but we just shot them down. Yet as soon as we shot them down others came out, literally like bees. No wonder the poor chaps are called by their officers "cannon-fodder"! British officers don't talk of their men in that brutal way; and the British officer always leads--shows the way; but the German officer seems to follow his men, and to shove and shoot them along.
It was marvellous to watch the Germans come on in their legions, and melt away under our artillery and rifle fire. We simply took deliberate aim at the masses of figures, grey clad, with their helmets covered with grey cloth; but it seemed as if not even our absolutely destructive fire would stop them. On they came, still on, the living actually sheltering behind the dead. But it was no use. We kept them off, and they kept themselves off, too, for it was perfectly clear that they had a horror of the bayonet, and would not come near it.
The nearest the Germans got to us, as far as I can tell--that is, to the Gordons--was about 300 yards; but that was near enough, seeing that they outnumbered us by four to one, and were amongst the finest troops of Germany. Some of the enemy's cavalry--I suppose the much-talked-of Uhlans--came into the sunken road in front of us, hoping to do business; but our machine-guns got on them, and we had a go at them with our rifles, with the result that the Uhlans made a cut for it and most of them got away. Even so, there were plenty of riderless horses galloping madly about.
Our officers had told us to carry on--and carry on we did, then and later.
What was I feeling like? Well, of course, at the start I was in a bit of a funk and it wasn't pleasant; but I can honestly say that the feeling soon vanished, as I'm certain it did from all of us, and we settled down to good hard pounding, all the time seeing who could pound the hardest and last longest. And I can assure you that, in spite of everything, men kept laughing, and they kept their spirits up.
You see, we had such splendid officers, and there is always such a fine feeling between officers and men in Highland regiments. Our colonel, a Gordon by name and commanding the Gordons, was a real gallant Gordon, who won his Victoria Cross in the South African War--a regular warrior and a veteran; amongst other things he was in at the storming of Dargai, and he had more experience of actual fighting, I should think, than all the Germans in front of us put together.
Suddenly, with a fearful shattering sound, a shell burst just beside the major and the private, and for the moment it looked as if they had been destroyed. Some Gordons rushed towards them, and picked them up and put them on a horse. It was seen that they were badly hurt, but even so, and at a time like that, the major actually laughed, and I am sure he did it to keep our spirits up. He was taken away to hospital, and was laughing still when he said--
"It's all right, lads! There's nothing much the matter with me! Carry on!"
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