ON THE BATTLE-FIELDS
As often as I went on tour to collect news on the scene of war, I got
dozens of messages and letters, which alarmed people sent to the editor
of _De Tijd_, with the request that they should be handed to me for
further transmission to relatives. I took hundreds of them to and from
Louvain.
On Monday, September 14th, I took with me a larger number than ever to
Louvain.
I observed then already that much poverty prevailed, for in many places
I noticed people whose appearance did not suggest that they were
accustomed to that sort of work, creeping quietly in and out of hedges,
carrying bags in which they put the potatoes picked up in the fields.
Naturally they started and looked alarmed, when, suddenly, I passed on
my bicycle.
Round about Louvain everything was prepared for defensive purposes,
artillery being hidden under straw-roofs, only a few yards away from
the farm-houses, and the sentries were very alert. I never saw them
before I was quite near; then they jumped suddenly from behind a tree,
summoning me to stop by lowering their rifle. In the meadows were a
good many newly cut trenches.
Some soldiers were rather friendly when I revealed myself as a
Netherland reporter; they informed me with serious faces that
in Germany two million volunteers were drilling; that in each
garrison-town the majority of the men were left behind as reserves;
that by and by they were going to level Antwerp to the ground, if these
Belgians would not keep quiet; that after all Belgium proved a bigger
job than they had bargained for; that Amsterdam and Rotterdam had been
shelled and Flushing taken by the British; that Germany had now sent
a great number of troops into The Netherlands to protect her against
Britain, because The Netherlands herself had no army at all; and so on
and so on.
One of the soldiers took me to the spot where two days before the
Belgians had blown up the railway which had just now been repaired
by the German engineers. According to his story eighty troopers had
succeeded in surprising a guard of twelve and in pushing on to the
railway.
Near Corbeek-Loo a strong Belgian force had been able even to reach the
main road to Louvain, and there also destroyed the railway, after which
they retreated before the advancing Germans.
These minor actions formed part of the sortie by the Belgians from
Antwerp. One division marched towards Louvain and occupied Aerschot
on Thursday evening, September 10th. On Friday they advanced farther
in the direction of Wijgmaal-Rotselair-Corbeek-Loo, with continuous
hard fighting. On Saturday the fights were fiercest round about these
places, and ended in the evening in a retreat of the Belgians, who
made the enemy pay as heavily as possible for their victory, although
they themselves had to leave behind a good many victims.
Considerations of space forbid me to relate many of the heroic deeds
performed on this occasion, but an exception may be made of the
following:--
When I arrived in Louvain I heard of a young Fleming who was then being
nursed in a hospital established by the Norbertine Fathers, and had
been serving at two pieces of ordnance near Corbeek-Loo. As the army
was forced to retreat in the evening his comrades were compelled to
abandon the two guns, but he had to stay, being wounded in the leg by a
grape shot. The Germans made him prisoner, and tied him to a tree. By
an immense effort he succeeded in tearing himself loose, and dragged
himself towards a farm-house. At a short distance from this goal he was
stopped, however, by a German soldier. The Fleming, putting forth all
his remaining strength, gave the other such a tremendous blow in the
face with his rifle-butt that he fell down dead. Subsequently this boy
reached the farm-house, where he was charitably received. Later on he
was fetched away by the Sisters from Boven-Loo, and finally from that
institution by the Norbertine Fathers.
The Belgians left also a considerable number of dead and wounded at
Wijgmaal and Rotselair. On Tuesday, September 15th, I visited the
battle-fields in that neighbourhood with father Coppens, a Netherland
Norbertine, born at Lieshout. The wounds of the soldiers lying there
were in a most terrible condition, because _the Germans forbade the
removal of the Belgian wounded before all the German dead had been
buried_. In my opinion not only a proof of barbarity, but also an
admission that the Germans themselves must have suffered great losses.
The Wijgmaal battle-field was after all the least horrible. About
ten houses seemed to have been set on fire on purpose; the rest had
suffered badly from the bombardment. All the inhabitants had fled as
soon as the fighting began. The wounded Belgians had been placed in the
large dancing-room of a café, where father Coppens brought them a large
hamper full of eatables and drinkables, and whence also he had them
transported to Louvain. The food was gratefully accepted, but they were
still more eager to get hold of the mugs, as they were very thirsty
in consequence of the high temperature caused by the inflamed wounds;
often we had to prevent them forcibly from drinking too much.
We passed a dead field-officer who still laid hold of a piece of a
flag. When I read that sort of thing in a book, I thought: "how pretty
and romantic," but never believed that this would actually happen in
war-time. I saw the reality now, and, deeply touched, bared my head,
saluting that dead hero. From papers we found on him we saw that his
name was Van Gesthel; like most Belgians, he had been killed by shell.
I went on with Father Coppens and found about one hundred wounded,
of whom only a few had been taken to the houses. Most of them crept
away frightened, but when we told them that we were Netherlanders from
Louvain, who came to bring them food and drink, and to take them away
to be nursed, they got hold of our coats and refused to let us go.
They drank deep, in long draughts, with trembling lips, and beseeched
us not to leave them again: "Oh, gentlemen, then we shall die!" We
swore that we should come back, and that later on carriages would
arrive from Louvain to take them to some convent or hospital; and,
trusting us, they resigned themselves in the end.
Goats, pigs, cows, and other cattle roamed freely through the
village-street, looking for food and licking the faces of the dead.
We entered a stable whence we thought that a sound came. We saw,
however, nothing but a heap of straw, and a pig which ran up against us
near the door. Father Coppens chased it away with a:
"Get you gone, you brute!"
And all at once the straw began to move, a head popped out, and a weak
voice exclaimed:
"Ah well, be you a Fleming?"
The poor fellow had hidden himself, being afraid that we were Germans;
but when he heard the "Get you gone, you brute!" he ventured to show
himself.
"Certainly, my lad," said Father Coppens--"certainly we are Flemings.
What is the matter with you?"
We removed the rest of the straw, undressed him partially, and on both
his legs the most hideous wounds became visible. Septic process had
worsened his condition to such an extent, that the unfortunate boy had
only a short time to live. I moved away ... he confessed to Father
Coppens, who gave him the viaticum, which he carried with him.
Later on people from Louvain came with carts, which we had ordered
before leaving. Thirteen of these carried the wounded away, whilst a
German patrol went all over the village, setting everything on fire.
Father Coppens and I beseeched the German commanding officer to spare
the houses of some people, large families, who came for shelter to the
father's convent. And at length, after long supplications, we secured
exemption for a few houses, inhabited by people who could not have
done anything in a village which had been completely evacuated by the
population, at the beginning of the fight.
In the Hospital Leo XIII, that eager Netherlander, Professor Noyons,
did all he could to save as many as could be saved of the wretched
Belgian wounded; but as rain and cold had done so much harm to the
wounds, amputation of the injured limbs was as a rule the only remedy
left.
Never thinking of rest he went on day and night, taking away the poor
fellows' arms and legs, and all this by the miserable light of some
candles. Gas and electricity were not to be had, the works being idle
after the destruction of the town....