Part 2 (1/2)
This was his first opportunity to watch sh.e.l.l fire. The sh.e.l.ls sailed overhead so slowly that he half expected to see them in their flight.
The noise they made was very difficult to describe. They hurtled, they whizzed, they shrieked, they sang. He could imagine the thing spinning in its flight, creating a noise something like steam escaping jerkily from an engine.
An English battery was firing from somewhere unseen on the right, to meet an attack apparently launched on the left. Furious messages were pa.s.sed up the line that the artillery were firing on their own men, and whether this was true or not, soon afterwards the attack ceased.
At about seven o'clock the Major gave orders to withdraw his Platoon when the Company on his right should retire. This surprised him; for, knowing nothing of the general situation, he had felt that they would hang on, and fight the battle out then and there, to the last gasp. He gave orders to his section commanders, and then lay down to await the development of events.
At about nine o'clock a general retirement seemed to be taking place on the right. It is a very difficult thing to pick upon exactly the right moment to retire. If you retire too early, you allow the enemy to advance without having inflicted sufficient loss, i.e. you allow him to succeed too cheaply, to say nothing of rendering the position of units on your flanks precarious. On the other hand, if you hang on to your position too long, you become committed to a close fight, from which it is almost impossible to withdraw without the most serious losses.
There are no hedges in Belgium; the ground was perfectly open, and the Subaltern could easily see what was happening on the right. It seemed to him that some unit delayed too long, for the rest of the line showed signs of envelopment. Eventually, however, the retirement to the village was effected quietly, and without loss. He led his Platoon to a second defensive position about a mile behind the village, but already sh.e.l.ls were beginning to drop around, and even beyond it.
CHAPTER V
THE BEGINNING OF THE RETREAT
It was from this point that the great ”Retreat from Mons” really began.
The road in front of the Battalion was. .h.i.t by one or two sh.e.l.ls.
Apparently it was being ”searched,” and so the Battalion was hastily moved into the open fields, a.s.suming what is known as ”Artillery Formation,” i.e. small collections of troops, moving on the same objective, with ”irregular distances and depths.” By this means many lives must have been saved. After about a mile of very hurried marching, through turnip fields and stubble, the road was again reached, and the Battalion was apparently out of the enemy's range.
The heat was beginning to be intense. The men had marched for the last three days almost incessantly, and without sufficient sleep. Sunday night in the firing-line had been full of excitement of battle, and all Monday morning had been spent at digging trenches. Imagine the state of the men! Dirty from digging, with a four days' growth of beard, bathed in sweat, eyes half closed with want of sleep, ”packs” missing, lurching with the drunken torpor of fatigue, their own mothers would not have known them! There was no time to rest and sleep, when rest and sleep were the most desirable things on earth. Those men a.s.suredly knew all the agonies of a temptation to sell for a few moments' sleep their liberty and lives.
During a halt the Subaltern threw himself so heavily in a cabbage patch, that his revolver became unhitched from his belt, and when the halt was over he lurched to his feet and on, without noticing its loss. Careless?
Perhaps, but one of his men lost his rifle and never noticed it, because he was carrying a spade!
There was, however, one consolation. The Germans had for the time been shaken off; although the noise of battle could still be heard uncomfortably near on the left. But if one waits long enough, the hottest sun must go to rest, and drag its horrible day with it. About six o'clock the Battalion at last came up with its ”Cookers” and transport. Glory of glories, rest had at last been achieved! Never had bacon been so welcome, never tea so desirable, so stimulating, so wonderful.
The Quartermaster-Sergeant had some terrifying tales for the Company Mess about disasters on less fortunate parts of the line; but there was no time to go into the matter, for the Battalion was ordered to parade immediately. This was the last straw! The men had been looking forward to, and longing for a good sleep that night. Every aching limb of their bodies cried out for rest, and here they were going to be put on outpost duty for yet another night. Imagine their state of mind! Is there a word to cope with the situation? a.s.suredly not, though great efforts were made! Darkness fell so swiftly that the Officers had scarcely time to ”site” the position of their trenches. Then the weary business of entrenching began again. Have you ever heard the tinkering, tapping, thudding sounds made by entrenching implements or spades? None of the men who heard it that night will ever forget it. It will give them a memory of energy, promoted by the desire for safety, clogged by heat and fatigue.
At about eleven or twelve at night a fair cover had been made, and the long-sought rest became possible at last--not, however, the sleep that the Subaltern had been longing for all day, not complete oblivion to body and mind, for the fear of surprise was upon him even in his sleep, and he knew that if his precautions should prove insufficient, he would have to answer for sixty good lives. In addition there was the cold of the cloudless night, and the clinging wetness of the dew. These things would not have allowed him to sleep, even if he could.
A fresh day began very similar to the last. There were no signs of the enemy to the immediate front, so the work of entrenching continued. A ”fatigue party” went to draw rations, which were distributed at about seven o'clock. This was their first introduction to ”bully” beef and hard biscuits. Also, wonder of wonders, a ”mail” was distributed.
He was lying in the corn just beginning to eat a biscuit and read a letter, when the voice of the Senior Subaltern called him from somewhere up the line. Thinking that he had got another letter, or something of that sort, he did not wait to put letters and rations in his haversack, but went straight to his Senior. ”A party of Uhlans, about 100 strong, have broken through the line further up. We have got to prevent them from taking us by surprise on this flank. So you had better take a couple of sections to keep them off.” Commands on the battlefield must never be didactic and narrow. Tell a man what to do, give him his mission, and how he will carry it out, the methods he will employ, are for himself to determine.
He hurriedly collected his men and took up a position astride a road that ran behind, parallel to the lines. In peace-time manoeuvres one had generally been told the direction from which to expect the enemy, hours before he actually came; now, when the great game was being played in real earnest, he found that he had to guess. The Uhlans might have come unsuspecting along the road, in which case the game would be his; or they might come blundering along from somewhere in the rear and enfilade him, in which case the game would most a.s.suredly be theirs.
Fortunately, the Uhlans did not come at all.
Meanwhile a very rare and lucky circ.u.mstance was beginning to be apparent. The enemy were actually attacking from the direction they were expected! But this was only to be a rear-guard action, so he never saw his rations or letters again, after all.
The Senior Subaltern was left to ”hold out” in a small cottage in the firing-line until the rest had ”got away.” With characteristic forethought and presence of mind he not only got his men away without loss, but seized all luxuries in the place!
As on the day before, in getting clear away from the enemy, the Company had to pa.s.s a large stretch of ground which was being literally peppered with shrapnel. The noise was louder than it had seemed on the previous day. Thunder seemed m.u.f.fled beside it. Moreover, thunder rolled--seemed to spread itself into s.p.a.ce--but not so with bursting sh.e.l.ls. The clap of sound caused by one is more confined, more localised, more intense.
The earth seems to quiver under it. It suggests splitting, a terrible splitting. Only the nerves of the young and healthy can stand it. It would not be so bad if one could see the thing whistling through the air, or even when it bursts; but one cannot. After the crash a man may scream or moan, totter and fall, but for all one can see he might have been struck down by the wrath of G.o.d.
The road safely reached, the retreat was continued, but under very trying circ.u.mstances for the Company. The Brigadier in charge of the rear-guard action, not having sufficient cavalry at his disposal, ordered the Company to take up the role of flank-guard to the retreating column. The Company, extended over a long front, had to move across rough country, intersected with all sorts of obstacles, at the same rate as the infantry on the road, ”which,” as Euclid says, ”is impossible.”