Next morning the two friends flew into Charleroi. The town was seething
with excitement. People were laughing and singing, cheering every
soldier who passed along the street, congratulating each other on the
good news. It had become known that the fierce German assaults of the
previous day on Liege had been beaten back by the guns of the forts and
the steady rifle fire of the men in the trenches, and that the Germans
had asked for an armistice.
"Splendid!" said Pariset, when he learnt the news from a brother
officer: "though we mustn't crow too soon. The cessation of the attack
gives us the chance I wanted, then. We can take advantage of it to get
into Liege. I should like to report our little coup in person."
"There will be no difficulty in my getting away, I suppose?" asked
Kenneth.
"What do you wish to do?"
"Get to England and join the Flying Corps."
"They would take you?"
"Well, my chest measures thirty-six inches, my teeth are sound, and I've
no varicose veins. The only doubt is about my sight: my right eye is a
trifle astigmatic. But I think I should pass the doctor."
"I wish you could stay with us. But I understand your wish to serve
with your own army. As soon as we get back I'll ask the commandant if I
can be spared to carry you to Ostend."
Kenneth agreed to this, and they started eastward. It was nearing
midday when they swooped down from a great height on to an open space
some three miles west of Liege. Pariset had pointed out the positions
of the forts as they descended; but Kenneth had been able barely to
distinguish them while in the air, and when he came to the ground they
were quite out of sight.
But the intervening space had been carefully prepared for infantry.
Trenches had been dug, barbed wire entanglements stretched from point to
point, every natural feature adapted to the purposes of defence. At the
present moment the trenches were not manned. Pariset learnt from a
comrade in the flying corps that though the armistice had been refused,
the Germans had not as yet renewed the attack. Their losses on the
previous day had been very heavy, and the garrison were confident of
their ability to repulse any further assaults if the Germans persisted
in attacking in the same dense masses, and were not supported by heavier
artillery than that which they had employed hitherto.
Kenneth listened eagerly to the conversation between the two airmen. He
learnt how the German infantry, covered by artillery, had advanced again
and again in close formation, only to be hurled back by the fire from
the forts and the trenches, followed up with the bayonet. The Belgians
were amazed at the doggedness with which their enemy had pressed on,
careless of cover, though great gaps were torn in their packed columns.
Such a wastage of men pointed to a vast confidence in the ultimate
superiority of numbers, the crushing of the defence by sheer weight
rather than skill.
Pariset explained, when Kenneth questioned him, the importance to the
enemy of the capture of Liege. Encircled by its twelve forts,
constructed by the engineering genius of General Brialmont, the town
stood as a formidable obstacle to the advance of the Germans through the
valley of the Meuse, the easiest way into France. Every day it could be
held was a day's delay in the prosecution of the enemy's plan of
campaign, which, as everybody knew, was to crush France before Russia
had time to threaten Germany on her eastern border.
"The Germans have, they think, a very perfect military machine," Pariset
continued; "I daresay they have, though perhaps they are a little too
cocksure about it. They've had no experience of war for forty years,
and their easy victory in 1870 has possibly produced what you call
swelled head. Anyhow, the most perfect machine may be dislocated by a
little grit, and Liege, we hope, will be the little grit for the
occasion. Now we had better get some lunch; then we'll fly north. I'll
report myself to my commandant, and ask for leave to carry you to
Ostend."
They walked away to the rear of the lines, towards a cottage on which
the canteen flag was flying. Before they reached it they met a general
officer on horseback, cantering along accompanied by an aide-de-camp.
Pariset saluted, the officers touched their hats and passed.
"General Leman, commanding the forts," said Pariset.
"He looked just like an Englishman," Kenneth replied.
Pariset smiled, and was beginning a chaffing remark when he was hailed
from behind. Turning, he saw that the officers had reined up, and
turned their horses' flanks towards him. He hurried back, Kenneth
taking a step or two in the same direction.
"Lieutenant Pariset, I understand?" he heard the general say. "I
compliment you on your little exploit. You did very well; thank you!"
Pariset murmured something, saluted again, and the officers rode off.
"He didn't give me time to tell him about you," said Pariset, rejoining
his friend. "He is evidently in a hurry to get back to Fort Loncin."
"It doesn't matter about me," said Kenneth. "How did he know about it
at all?"
"He must have got the news by telegram or wireless from Charleroi. But
really it was your doing, you know. I must make that clear."
"Don't talk rubbish! I only gave you the information. I liked the look
of him. What keen eyes he has!"
"He's a splendid fellow. But come along! Our men are a hungry lot, and
I don't want to find the board cleared."
They were sitting at lunch among a group of cheery young officers when a
bugle rang out. The officers sprang up, seized their arms, and rushed
out of the cottage.
"The Germans are coming on again," cried Pariset. "Come and see."
They ran back towards the trenches, which were already filling with
riflemen. A deep boom sounded from some distant spot.
"A German gun!" said Pariset.
"I don't see the shell," said Kenneth, looking round.
"My dear fellow, it had fallen somewhere before we heard the sound. Ah!
the forts are replying."
In a few minutes the silence of the summer noon was shattered by the
continuous thunder of artillery. With the deep slow booms of the big
guns was mingled the quicker, sharper bang of machine guns somewhere out
of sight.
"Get down, you asses!" cried an officer, as they drew near to the
trenches. "Do you want to be marked?"
They took cover behind a hedge. Kenneth tingled from top to toe as he
heard the crash of the guns, and felt the earth and the very air shake
with the concussion. Presently a shrill whistle sounded; it was
followed almost instantaneously by a prolonged crackle, which had hardly
died away when from above them came a zip, zip, zip, like the notes of
some tuneless bird.
"The Germans are firing anyhow," said Pariset in an involuntary whisper.
Round the hedge came swiftly two men in blue coats with the red cross on
their sleeves, carrying an ambulance. A groan rose from it.
"I can't stand this," said Pariset.
He dashed along the hedge and into the open. Kenneth instinctively
followed him, not doubting for a moment what it was that Pariset could
not stand. Pariset, with Kenneth close at his heels, made straight for
the nearest trench, heedless of the shot and shell whistling, singing,
crashing around them. They flung themselves into the trench, and
Kenneth, without understanding how it had happened, found himself
leaning forward, rifle in hand, listening to a droning monotone from
Pariset a yard to the left of him.
"Mark your man.... Don't be in a hurry.... Keep your head as low as
possible.... You'll soon get used to the noise."
It was a minute or two before Kenneth realised that the rifle had been
thrust into his hand for use. Looking over the parapet of the trench he
was still confused and bewildered. Pariset expected him to fire, but
where was the enemy? He saw the long grass waving in the breeze, a few
scattered trees in the field beyond, wisps and cloudlets of smoke--and
then, as the range of his vision increased, in the far distance a
bluish-grey mass rolling like a billow towards him.
At last he understood. That bluish-grey mass was the enemy. It
represented brute force, broken faith, merciless tyranny. It was the
devastating flood which these brave soldiers about him were giving their
lives to check.
Presently he distinguished individuals in the mass.
"Mark your man!"
The words, coolly spoken by Pariset on his left, set his imagination on
fire. It was his privilege to have a share in their fight for freedom.
He laid the rifle to his shoulder, marked his man along the sight, and a
touch of his finger sped a bullet on its way.
For the next half-hour Kenneth lost account of everything but the task
so suddenly thrust upon him. The deafening din of bursting shells and
rifle fire, the quick silent activity of the ambulance bearers, the
shouts and groans of men, were unnoticed by him in his constant
preoccupation. He learnt afterwards how the Germans had pressed on with
marvellous passive courage under the hail of lead and shell from the
forts and trenches; how the gaps cleft in their close-packed ranks had
been instantly filled up, as if men had sprung out of the earth. He
fired until the chamber was empty, refilled and fired again, every now
and again hearing Pariset's monotonous cry, "Mark your man!"
Presently there was a shrill whistle. Instantly, in the trench on
either side of him, the men who had been lying flat sprang to their feet
and dashed forward with a joyous shout. He was up and after them,
running across the field, with bayonet out-thrust, towards the stalwart
men in blue-grey, who had hitherto come nearer and nearer like the
irresistible tide. But now he became suddenly conscious that the tide
was receding. These stout warriors whom shot and shell had failed to
daunt had turned tail at the sight of gleaming steel. Their ranks
broke; they wavered, spun round, and fled in panic disorder across the
field.
As Kenneth, with parched lips and trembling limbs, returned with Pariset
from that victorious charge, an officer of the general's staff met them.
"This will never do, lieutenant," he said to Pariset; "we have plenty of
brave fellows to man the trenches, but we haven't too many airmen, and
we can't afford to risk them in field operations. You have no business
here, you know."
"But wasn't it glorious, colonel?" said Pariset, glowing.
"They are men to be proud of. But I am quite serious; get back to your
corps; there will be plenty of work for you. Has this man no uniform,
by the way?"
"They have run short, colonel," said Pariset instantly. "We will rig
him up in a day or two."
"See to it. If the Germans capture a man in civilian dress they will
shoot him at sight. Now, get back at once."
"I thought it better not to go into particulars," Pariset remarked to
Kenneth as they went on. "There might have been a row."
"It's just as well," said Kenneth. "But, I say, I think I'll go into
the infantry after all."