MASSING BEFORE VERDUN
In the month of February, 1916, the German Army initiated a drive
against the fortress city of Verdun, which in time developed into the
greatest battle that the world has ever known. The Crown Prince was
given command of the huge forces concentrated here, and offered the
opportunity to vindicate himself in the eyes of the people, after
having signally failed to occupy Paris eighteen months before.
Men, guns, equipment, and every possible aid were at his disposal and
service, with which to make victory certain. The cost in men killed was
not to be considered. Vindication after his tremendous blunders was
a paramount necessity, and to be purchased at any cost. This policy
became manifest at the very outset by the way he hurled great masses of
men forward to certain death. It is all now a matter of history.
It has been held by many reliable military authorities that this battle
was the turning point of the war, for, with everything in his favor,
the Crown Prince had been unable to win. In the first days of the
attack on Verdun the success of the Germans was very marked. The reason
for this partial success is no secret now—France was not prepared.
Regarding the condition of affairs at Verdun on the day of the attack,
I have most reliable information from two officers of high rank in the
French Army.
The Germans had been massing supplies and men before this city for
weeks, in systematic preparation for the attack. They had artillery and
shells in plenty. It was not for some time after this concentration had
been under way that it attracted the attention of the French—so busy
were they on other fronts adjusting the army as a whole to prevailing
conditions. When it was discovered that there was undue enemy
concentration in front of Verdun, steps were at once taken to combat
it, but it was too late for extensive preparations.
That is why Verdun, supposedly the most formidable fortress in France,
was gutted and its brave defenders forced back. They were unprepared
for the onslaughts and masses of a trained and brutal foe. Under the
conditions it is not surprising that the German Army made such great
progress.
One of my informants, who is a thoroughly capable military authority,
told me just in a few words how he viewed the situation at the time and
how most French officers felt when the German attack was in full swing.
It was impossible for the French to take the offensive. In the wake of
their superior artillery fire, vast waves of German infantry came on.
They arrived in droves and congregated in swarms. As far as could be
seen in front of the French position the ground was covered with men
in German uniforms.
They came so fast and so thick it was impossible for the French to kill
them all, though the slaughter was terrible. Yet on they came, and so
it was that the French retirement began. Even during the retreat, the
rear guard continued raking the German masses with machine guns and
tearing holes in the lines of the oncoming infantry. The French fell
back to safer ground. These tactics continued throughout the first day,
the defenders in each instance holding out just as long as it was safe,
but always having to give ground.
Late in the afternoon my informant, who had been from one point to
another along the line, reached the town of Verdun itself. There he
received orders from the General Staff to take all money from the bank
and proceed with it to Bar Le Duc, far away in the rear. This order, so
he told me, confirmed his expectations as to what was about to happen.
Apparently the city was doomed. The Germans were fast closing in on
the city and defeat was in the air. The injured were pouring in so fast
it was impossible to attend them or give them quarters. They were laid
out in cellars, barns, wherever room could be found, until they could
get attention and be carried to the rear.
In leaving town after obtaining the money the officer started to the
rear on the main road, but the oncoming traffic was so heavy that
the road had to be abandoned. Camions, artillery, trucks, wagons and
men filled the road—all bound for Verdun. As they went by he said
to himself, “They have come too late.” Unending was this stream of
supplies, and the order was that nothing was to stop them. If a motor
refused to run, camion and all were toppled over into the roadside
ditch and the procession continued uninterrupted. After a few days
of this unending stream, ever moving up, the ditches on either side
were filled for miles with every sort of conveyance and all kinds of
supplies.
Arriving at Bar Le Duc that night he delivered the money and securities
safely. At dawn orders came to return to Verdun. He and his companion
officer were more than surprised, for it seemed impossible that the
city had not fallen, and even then he felt that it would be only a
question of time and long before they could arrive. But they started
back as ordered. As they proceeded they expected momentarily to be
stopped by word that Verdun had fallen—but that word never came.
Much to their joy, upon arriving, they learned that the French
had delivered a terrific counter attack and that great numbers of
reinforcements had arrived and had been hurled against the enemy. For
the immediate present they were holding their own against the Boche.
Prospects brightened. News came that further reinforcements would
arrive before night, with supplies in plenty. Things began to look more
“rosey.” The Germans had captured one position after another, but after
being checked for a moment the necessary breathing spell was afforded
to the French.
Although the enemy did continue to hammer away there came a time after
a while when conditions became equalized between the offense and
defense. The French forced the Boche to settle down into siege warfare.
If Verdun was to be taken at all it would have to be by a siege and not
by storm. Thus did the French wrest victory from defeat, for as each
day went by without Verdun falling one more dagger was driven into the
heart of the German campaign.
Each day the French held on brought renewed vigor and determination
to hold on forever. Every known trick was applied to the situation
by the enemy. The “nibbling” process netted the Germans a gain here
and there but always the French exacted heavy toll for such advances.
Under ordinary conditions the Germans would have given up the Verdun
job as hopeless, but it is not an ordinary thing to vindicate a Crown
Prince. The House of Hohenzollern cared not how many men were sent to
unnecessary death so long as absolute defeat could be obviated.
The great siege of Verdun was well upon its second year when I struck
French soil, and it was on its scarred front that my work began, and
where I saw my first battle. It was one of the battles that completed
the final rolling back that I shall describe, and it was the most
spectacular event I ever hope to see. The action was on the front
between Ft. Vaux and Ft. Douaumont, which no doubt all are familiar
with, on account of the terrific fighting that has never ceased along
these particular points. Both sides captured and recaptured each
other’s positions many times, as has been told in detail by the press
from the viewpoint of many special writers.
When I arrived at Verdun I was immediately ordered up to Flurey. The
only thing left to mark the remains of this town was a bell tower,
which had been tumbled over, but some fifteen feet of it still stood
above the ground. The bell had tumbled into the debris. We were
quartered in an _abri_ about twenty feet underground. I was at
once attracted by the unusual _aerial_ activity, there being a
large number of French and German planes in the air most of the time.
These I watched with great interest, particularly one Frenchman who was
jockeying for a position of advantage, from which to attack a two-man
Boche plane. Finally he dove for it, but missed. At this instant a
fighting plane came to the aid of the Boches, but the Frenchman, by
clever manipulation, looped the loop, and soon was on the tail of the
newcomer. With his machine gun he soon got in the shot that sent the
Boche plane tumbling to earth.
Then began a battle royal with the two-man machine. The French plane
was smaller and a great deal faster. It could dodge up and down and
sideways so quickly that it avoided the machine-gun fire of the big
flyer. Discouraged, the two-man machine turned tail for home; the
Frenchman followed. The Germans dived toward their own lines, but a
well-directed shot hit their gas tank, and to earth they went in a
cloud of flame and smoke.
The victory was complete for the moment, but disaster came quickly on
its heels, for when the French plane was almost back in our lines,
there came swooping down from a cloud another Boche. My heart fluttered
at the sight, for it was plain that the Frenchman was unaware of the
new danger. He had slowed up and was leisurely picking his way home.
There was no way to warn him of his danger. At the last second he must
have discovered his plight for he seemed to turn, but it was too late.
The German gun was singing and the next instant saw this brilliant
aviator tumbling earthward. I shut my eyes and gasped for breath.