ROUND ABOUT LIÈGE
DURING the fights round the forts I made a good many tours and was
able to contradict several German reports about alleged successes. The
atrocities in the villages around Liège did not cease, and constantly
fresh crowds of refugees came to Maastricht.
In order to examine once more the state of affairs around Liège, I
decided to pay another visit to that town.
Starting in the early morning of August 15th, I arrived at Visé without
much trouble, after having been led across the Lixhe bridge once more.
Since my first visit the bridge had been destroyed three times over,
and this new one seemed very weak. As I stood there looking at it, a
motor lorry had to cross it, and the bridge gave way near the bank.
Another motor had then to pull the lorry up to the top of the bank, and
this made the bridge give way still further.
For the rest the transports were not much troubled now, for obviously
the bridge was no longer the objective of the Belgian guns. At Visé I
was even told that Fort Pontisse had just been taken and only Lierce
could harass the troops, who, after crossing the bridge, advanced
towards Tongeren.
Many things had happened at Visé since my first visit. Under the
pretext that the church spire could indicate to Fort Pontisse in which
direction to shoot, paraffin had been poured over church and spire
and fire set to them. It was a venerable ancient structure, built ten
centuries ago, the fine stained windows of which were well known.
The inhabitants looked upon the church as a special sanctuary, as the
bones of St. Hadelin were kept there. Before the fire these relics had
been removed to the vicarage secretly, and then to St. Hadelin College,
the only large building that escaped the general destruction next day.
Immediately after the church was set on fire, the dean was arrested, as
well as the burgomaster and five reverend sisters. These last-mentioned
had been in prison a fortnight, when at last the Germans discovered
that the little sisters were of German nationality. The Very Reverend
Dean had been treated very badly during his captivity.
There was dire want in the little town, for the Germans had been
requisitioning everything until there was nothing left. And as during
the first days of the war all traffic had been stopped, it was
impossible to bring in fresh supplies. The pieces of bread the people
still had were like bricks, and several days old; and yet I could not
get any of it.
But the German troops had ample provisions for themselves, and as an
officer noticed that I went all over the town to find some food in
one of the restaurants, he offered me, the "friendly" Netherlander,
something to eat at the Guard House. This I declined, however, for I
could not have enjoyed bread taken from the starving population.
There was still a real reign of terror, and constantly the town-crier's
bell was heard in the streets, informing the people that the victors
required something or other. Only a few days ago it was announced that
all bicycles had to be delivered at the bridge within twenty-four
hours. Any person who after that time was found in possession of such a
vehicle would be shot, and his house burned down. With similar threats
all arms were requisitioned, but with the explicit addition that this
referred also to old, and broken arms, or those which had been taken
to pieces. Eatables and drinkables were also constantly claimed under
threats of arson.
From Visé I went again across the Meuse to the road along the canal.
Nearing Haccourt, I noticed that Fort Pontisse was actually silent,
but Lierce still in full action. The Germans had mounted long-range
guns on the hills between Lancey and Haccourt, whence they could place
Fort Lierce under fire. A German officer, after some coaxing, allowed
me to witness the operations for a short time. I found a place near
some heavy guns, and sat down amid some underwood. The shooting from
Lierce was very fierce, but only by the plumes of smoke could I tell
whereabouts the fort might be. The shells came down near us, but during
the half hour of my stop not one made a hit. They all fell short of us.
It was a cruel sight. At a tolerably quick pace hundreds of soldiers
marched out in the direction of the fort, dragging light ordnance with
them. One of the officers explained to me that the big guns could not
yet operate here; and now a division of foot-artillery was commanded to
occupy a small hill near the fort. The big guns had to support them on
the way. The guns roared as if all the thunderbolts of heaven had been
flung into space. The smoke of the powder poisoned the air and made me
cough. Gradually my surroundings were enveloped in a thin haze, which
became denser and more suffocating the longer the guns roared. And
at last those hundreds of men, dragging their guns along the byways,
looked merely like shades.
For quite a quarter of an hour they seemed to proceed successfully, as
obviously not one shell exploded in their neighbourhood. But suddenly
all along their line dark masses several yards high rose up. This
was the effect of numerous exceedingly well-aimed shells on the dry,
loose sand. Soon the men were surrounded by those thick clouds of
dust, and only during the first few minutes I saw here and there one
of those shades in human form tumble down, evidently hit by one of the
projectiles. Then I saw nothing for a long while, excepting the thick
wall of dust, which seemed to remain standing up, for constantly the
shells threw up anew the earth that had only just fallen down.
The dust-wall extended gradually as the distance grew covered by the
Germans in their flight to their former positions. But at last we saw
the first men emerge in complete disorder from that driving cloud.
Some on the right, others on the left, here and there also small
groups which courageously dragged their guns with them, as they saved
themselves from that infernal downpour.
Five minutes later the smoke had disappeared almost, and I was able to
see what had happened on the field in front of me. Terrible! On all
sides lay scattered the lads, who but a short time ago started with
so much enthusiasm, and here and there a gun knocked over, five, six
corpses lying around it.
In front of me, behind me, on all sides, the guns boomed, clouds of
dust and smoke filled the air, making it impossible to see much, which
made the awe and terror endurable; but after the air became clear
again, and the sun shed glowing light on the beautiful fields, it was
terrible to think that all those dots in the plain were the bodies of
young men, cruelly crushed by the infernal products of human ingenuity.
It was agony to see here and there a body rising up, merely to fall
down again immediately, or an arm waving as if invoking help.
And by my side stood officers and soldiers raging and cursing. To
them came the returning men, blood running along their faces from
insignificant wounds, and they bawled and bellowed, and thundered
with a thousand curses that they wanted to go back and try again. How
ghastly they rolled their eyes in frenzied excitement! Some pointing at
me asked the officer who I was, and he explained. Then I had to listen
to endless imprecations against the civilian population of Belgium,
who, according to them, consisted entirely of francs-tireurs, who all
of them deserved to be shot, and to have their houses burned down. To
repeat the coarse words which they sputtered out in their rage would
only cause disgust.
The officer assured me that a new effort would be made soon, as they
were commanded to take Pontisse and Lierce at any price, the seventh
and ninth regiment of foot-artillery of Cologne being selected for the
purpose.
I did not want to witness that second attack, and, after thanking the
officer, resumed my journey along the canal-road to Liège.
Near Herstal the Germans were crossing by the large bridge, which the
Belgians had preserved to their own disadvantage.
In Liège things were no longer so depressing as at the time of my first
visit. There was some traffic in the streets, and by order of the
German authorities the shops had been reopened.
In a meadow east of the city I saw three big guns mounted, the biggest
I had seen as yet. They kept up a continuous and powerful cannonade at
the forts near the town, that had not yet been taken. There were three
of them left, of which Loncin was the most important.
A little farther away they were still busy with Lierce, but excepting
these four, all the forts were now taken by the Germans. I stood there
for a moment, gazing at these cannon, the presence of which was clearly
unknown to the Belgians, for their artillery took no notice of them.
Only the day before these guns had started shelling the forts, and on
the evening of August 15th they had silenced two of them; but Loncin
kept up the fight.
During the evening I was granted an audience by the Right Reverend
Monseigneur Rutten, Bishop of Liège. The venerable, aged prelate
received me very affably, but he was deeply impressed by the terrible
fate that had overwhelmed his poor native country. He himself had
suffered exceedingly bad treatment at the hands of the Germans. First
he and the other hostages were imprisoned in the citadel, where he
was locked up in a small shanty, with a leaking roof, so that the
torrential rain entered it freely. Wet and cold, the Bishop passed that
day without being offered any food, and, as stated above, was at last
allowed to go home.
He told me a good many other instances of ill-treatment, but as I gave
him my word of honour not to mention them, my mouth is sealed. He
himself was visited a few days later by the German commanding general,
who offered his apologies.
That same evening many more houses were burned down, more particularly
in Outre-Meuse, although no valid reason was given for that.
The next day, Sunday, August 16th, I was already about at five o'clock
in the morning, and soon witnessed some historical shots. In the park
on one of the boulevards the Germans had been digging for two days,
and prepared a firm foundation upon which big guns might be mounted. I
saw one of these guns that morning, and at about half-past five three
shots were fired from it at short intervals, by which Fort Loncin was
completely destroyed, as was indicated by the terrific explosions which
followed the third shot. After these shots I was quite benumbed for
several minutes; in all the streets of Liège they caused the greatest
commotion, which became all the greater because large numbers of
cavalry happened to ride through the town, and all the horses started
rearing.
Was the gun I had seen there one of the notorious forty-two centimetre
monsters? I should not like to wager my head in affirming that. It
was an inordinately unwieldy and heavy piece of ordnance, but during
the first days of the war nothing or very little had yet been said or
written about these forty-two's, and I did not pay sufficient attention
to the one I saw. Only after the fall of Loncin did all those articles
about the forty-two's appear in the papers, and the Germans certainly
asserted that they destroyed Loncin by means of such a cannon.
But it is equally certain that at Liège as well as at Namur and Antwerp
the Austrian thirty-point-five mortars were used, siege-guns chiefly,
and these were taken by the German soldiers for forty-two's. These
Austrian mortars were equally misnamed in German, French, and even
Netherland illustrated papers.
However, the effect of these Austrian mortars was terrible enough. I
could not form a correct opinion about them by the sound of the shot;
and only those who were in the fort that was hit were able to realise
the terrific results. Hence the interest of the report by an officer,
who escaped after having been made a prisoner at Loncin. He told my
colleague of _De Tijd_ at Antwerp about it. After having related how,
during nearly ten days, the fort had been defended heroically and
resolutely, he gave the following description of the final struggle:--
"On August 14th, at about four o'clock in the afternoon, the
expected storm burst; for twenty-five hours the invisible
siege-guns poured their torrent of projectiles on the fort. Flares
of fire and dense clouds of smoke belched through the crevices.
As the enemy's batteries could not be located, their fire could
not be answered. The artillerists of the garrison were then taken
to the spacious chief gallery, which offered a safe refuge under
its vault, about two and a half to three yards thick. Outside the
sentries were watching. In the parts near the entrance it was
unendurable; the heavy projectiles from the guns mounted in the
town had nibbled away the outer wall, only a yard and a half thick.
There were as yet no casualties among the garrison; calmly they
waited for the infernal tempest to subside and the enemy to storm
the fort, for they had sworn to repulse the assault.
"General Leman, Commander Naessens, and all the officers were
splendid in their imperturbable courage. They found the words that
went straight to the hearts of their men. These fellows looked more
like bronze statues than human beings. The projectiles hammered
at the walls and smashed huge pieces, penetrating into the parts
near the entrance. The rest of the fort withstood splendidly
the hurricane of hostile steel and fire. During the night the
bombardment stopped, and then the commanding officer went to
inspect the cupolas.
"The larger ones had suffered little; but the majority were jammed
by fragments of concrete and steel, which struck between the armour
and the front-armour. The small quick-fire cupolas had not been
touched by any projectile. 'It is all right,' he said, 'we shall be
able to repulse the enemy's attack.'
"At dawn the bombardment started again, but only the front was
seriously damaged. The garrison stood as firm as a rock. Here and
there the beginnings of a fire were soon extinguished.
"Then a frightful thing happened. The men had finished breakfast,
some were sleeping quietly in spite of the thundering noise. The
assault was expected to commence during the next night.
"And then the disaster followed suddenly. At about five o'clock
a tremendous explosion shook the fort to the foundations; the
powder-magazine had caught fire. It is impossible to describe the
appalling results of that explosion; the entire middle-part of the
fort collapsed in a stupendous cloud of flames, smoke and dust;
it was an awful destruction, an immense avalanche of masses of
concrete, fragments of armour, which in their fall crushed to death
nearly the whole of the garrison. From this fantastical, confused
mass, overwhelming clouds of suffocating smoke escaped through some
crevices and holes.
"After this infernal rumble, deadly silence followed, interrupted
only by the groans of the wounded. The German artillery ceased to
fire, and from all sides their infantry came rushing on, their
faces expressing the terror caused by such great calamities. They
were no longer soldiers longing to destroy, but human beings
hurrying to go to the assistance of other human beings.
"German sappers and other military men cleared away the dead and
the wounded. They also discovered General Leman, whose orderlies,
who had a miraculous escape from death, were already busy in
rescuing him from underneath the ruins.
"They were all unrecognisable, their faces were black from smoke,
their uniforms in rags, their hands covered with blood. The general
was put on a stretcher, and carried outside the fort across the
heaps of obstacles; there he was attended to by a surgeon. He had
lost consciousness. As soon as he recovered it, he pressed the
hands of two Belgian officers. 'It is all over; there is nothing
left to defend. But we did our utmost courageously.'
"A German officer came nearer, and, uncovering his head, said in
a voice trembling with emotion: 'General, what you performed is
admirable!' Evidently these words slightly comforted the defender
of Liège, who before long was removed by motor-car to an ambulance
in the town."
Such was the end of Fort Loncin, and by its fall the last obstacle was
removed by which the undisturbed progress of the German armies might
have been prevented. The brave defenders of Loncin did not surrender,
but stood their ground until they were buried under the ruins of their
own defences. According to information from another source, Lierce had
succumbed the night before.
Early next morning I walked through the streets of Liège, dull and
depressed, deploring the fact that such clumsy, heavy iron monsters had
been able to crush this stout defence and such men. As I reached the
Place du Marché, there arrived three hundred disarmed Belgian warriors,
escorted by a strong German force. They stopped in the square, and soon
hundreds of the people of Liège crowded around them. They were the
defenders of Fort Pontisse.
Men and women tried to break through the German cordon, but were
repulsed roughly. So they threw fruit, cigars, and cigarettes at them.
The lads looked gratefully at their compatriots, but for the rest
stared in front of them in dismal depression. Once and again a name was
called, as a relative or friend was recognised. Some shed tears.
Whether neutral or foreigner, no one could help being deeply moved.
Men and women, boys and girls, pressed once more through the German
fence, just to shake hands with someone they had recognised. No wailing
followed, but when hands were gripped, with a suppressed sob, they said:
"Bear up, lad! Keep courage; it will soon be different."
And the answer was:
"We did our utmost to the last, but it was impossible to go on."
I could not help myself, but also pressed through the Germans, as I
wanted to exchange a few words with the Belgians. This was possible
for a very few moments only, in which they told me that they had been
firing night and day in order to harass the Germans who crossed the
river, but they had to yield at the end, when the Germans put Belgian
civilians in front of themselves when attacking the fort.
I was roughly pushed back by the German soldiers twice over. I broke
through only to be repulsed again. They got into difficulties with the
huge crowd, who pushed through on all sides, bought up the stock of
surrounding shops, and threw chocolates and other sweets, cigars and
cigarettes, at their boys. Then a bugle sounded, and the Belgians once
more were arrayed in files. They calmly lighted their cigarettes, and
as the order "march" was given, they took off their caps, waved them
through the air, and, turning to the Liège crowd, exclaimed: "Vive
la Belgique." Then hundreds of caps, hats, and arms were waved in
response, the air resounding the cry: "Vive la Belgique. Au revoir! Au
revoir!"
As I felt myself one with the population, I uncovered my head and
enthusiastically joined in the cry: "Au revoir! Au revoir!"
* * * * *
When I was half way between Liège and the Netherland frontier, I
noticed that the village of Vivignes was burning in various places.
It is a beautiful spot, quite concealed between the green trees on the
slope of the hills, west of the canal. And the finest and largest farms
were exactly those ablaze. The fire crackled fiercely, roofs came down
with a crash and a thud. Not a living being could be seen. From the
windows of the burning houses small white flags hung, and they too were
one by one destroyed by the fire. I counted forty-five farms that were
burning, destroyed by the raging flames.
In a café, lower down, near the canal I saw a number of German
soldiers, and was successful in having a chat with the inn-keeper,
at the farthest corner of the bar. I asked him, of course, what they
meant by burning the village, and he told me that the Germans had
made a number of unsuccessful attacks on Fort Pontisse, until at last
they reduced it to silence. They were now so near that they could
open the final assault. They were afraid, however, of some ambush,
or underground mine, and the Friday before they had collected the
population, whom they forced to march in front of them. When they had
got quite near they dared not enter it yet, and drove the priest and
twelve of the principal villagers before them. That is how Pontisse was
conquered.
Later on I heard the same story from several other inhabitants.
The people had been in deadly terror, and women and old men, fearing
that they would be killed, had fallen on their knees beseeching the
soldiers to spare them. At present many women and old men, and even
strong men, were laid up with violent feverish attacks of nerves.
Only because these wretched people had not promptly obeyed the order
of the military to march against the fort in front of the soldiers,
Vivignes had been punished, and that morning over forty of the best
houses had been set on fire.
I shuddered at the thought that in these days such barbarities were
possible. I asked the soldiers whether I was allowed to enter the
burning village, but the commanding sergeant refused his consent.
I also asked the inn-keeper whether he felt no fear in those
surroundings. But, shrugging his shoulders, he answered: "All we can do
is to wait quietly. I do all in my power to keep them in a good temper,
give them beer and cigars, and yesterday killed one of my two cows for
them. I may have lost everything at the end of the war, ... but even
so, let it be, if I can only save the life of my family and keep a roof
over my head. But my anxiety is great enough, for, you understand, I
have two daughters ... and ... and...."
We had got near the door of the room that stood ajar, and from there
came the sound of a couple of girls' voices: "Hail, Mary.... Hail,
Mary...."
The frightened maidens were saying their rosary.
The news, that all the forts had now been taken was quickly
communicated to the surrounding military posts, and in consequence the
soldiers were in a wanton mood. Most of the houses which I passed had
their doors and windows smashed and broken, but the most provoking was
that soldiers had compelled the people in the cafés along the canal to
open their pianos and make their musical automatons play. To the tunes
of these instruments they danced, yelling and shouting. No greater
contrast was imaginable than that between such scenes and the burning
village with the frightened inhabitants around it.
Near Haccourt, by the bank of the Meuse, I noticed a terrible glare of
fire and dense smoke. It was an alarming sight, and made me fear the
direst things. I considered for a moment whether I should go there or
not, fearing that I had already taxed my nerves too much. Yet, I made
up my mind to go, and by a side-way got to the Meuse, near Visé. German
engineers were busy here laying telephone wires, and an officer stopped
me, threatening me with his revolver. It was obvious that they were no
longer accustomed to see civilians on that road. After having examined
my passport and seeing that I was a Netherland journalist, he became
very friendly, and politely urged me not to go farther.
"Why not, sir?" I asked.
"Well, there is a huge fire yonder; everything is burning!"
"How did that come about?"
"Well, it seems that the civilians cannot understand that only soldiers
may fight soldiers, and for that reason the whole place has been set on
fire."
"Devant-le-Pont?"
"No, Visé."
"Visé? Do you mean to say, sir, that the whole of Visé has been set on
fire?"
"Certainly!"
"But ... but ...! May I go there?"
"I must advise you not to, for it is extremely dangerous, but if you
like...."
"Very well, sir, then I shall go there!"