Boys of the Bulldog Breed
A bugler only sixteen years of age was, on returning from the war,
being taken to the Royal Herbert Hospital at Woolwich. One of the
soldiers said to the people who were looking on, "He is a little hero,
and deserves a dozen medals. He did not leave off sounding his bugle
until his left arm was blown off with a shell and he had four bullet
wounds in him."
Another boy of the bulldog breed, who is a trumpeter, did this
heroic deed. A British battery had lost all its horses and all its
men except a lieutenant and a trumpeter. By one of the guns lay the
sergeant-major, wounded in the leg and shoulder, and the lad decided
that he would make an attempt to take him out of the line of fire. His
officer tried to dissuade him, declaring that it was sheer madness, in
face of the awful shell fire that was pouring like rain all round that
spot. The lad, however, was determined, and, getting hold of a spare
horse from the rear, galloped off to where the wounded sergeant-major
lay, picked him up, placed him across his saddle, and brought him
safely to the hospital.
The great complaint our cavalry had against that of the enemy was that
they would not stand and have a respectable charge against them.
A party of Royal Marines were going by train from Antwerp to Ostend.
At 10 o'clock at night the train was stopped and the Marines were
fired at by Germans from all directions. The officer in command was
asked to surrender. He replied, "Royal Marines never surrender." The
no-surrender boys fought their way through, though they lost many of
their number.
Great was the pain that an order to retreat gave to other boys of
the bulldog breed. While the British were gaining a series of great
successes, the French were being defeated on the right. They were
unable to hold the Germans. The British were ordered to fall back in
order that they might not be enveloped by the Germans and completely
cut off. When the order came, the men became almost rebellious.
"Stalwart members of the Scottish and Irish regiments wept."
The men, however, as it proved, got even more opportunity of showing
courage in the retreat that they did not, at the time, understand. "My
story," says the _New York World_ correspondent, "principally concerns
the bulldog-like resistance of the British troops against the constant
ferocious attacks by the Germans holding the centre of the far-flung
line, while the French troops were engaged in pushing back the right
flank of the Germans. Official statements conveyed but an incomplete
idea of the tremendous undertaking of the British and French troops."
"If there be truth behind the splendid boast
That freedom makes of every man a host
And multiplies his courage and his might
Above the strength of peoples without right
To liberty; now is the hour to show
The universe how Britain meets the foe."
The following incidents have been mentioned in despatches: During
the action at Le Cateau on August 26th the whole of the officers and
men of one of the British batteries had been killed or wounded, with
the exception of one subaltern and two gunners. These continued to
serve one gun, kept up a sound rate of fire, and came unhurt from the
battlefield.
On another occasion a portion of a supply column was cut off by a
detachment of German cavalry, and the officer in charge was summoned to
surrender. He refused, and starting his motors off at full speed dashed
safely through, losing only two lorries.
It is no wonder that a French officer said that British soldiers were
always "le bulldog. We did not know that they could fight as they do,
nor did the Germans. You cannot wear out their spirits: even if you
walk them off their legs they will crawl somehow, they will never stop."
Writing about his soldiers after the battle of the Aisne, a British
officer used these words: "There is an extraordinary English atmosphere
over the whole show. I mean that the men display a dogged, obstinate
resistance in the face of any odds and absolutely refuse to consider
the possibility of their being beaten. They won't admit at any time
that the Germans have got the best of them. Their cheerfulness is
extraordinary and nothing is able to depress them."
The following account of part of the same battle illustrates the above
remark: "The Engineers built a pontoon bridge across the river. They
were under shell fire all the time, but they stuck to the work gamely.
Luckily the shells dropped in the river, and did not explode. The order
was given to cross the bridge man by man, six yards between each man.
It was a race across under fire. I saw men getting ready for their
turn, as if it were a hundred yards sprint and the officer giving the
word to the next man: 'Go.' It was an exciting time, and lots of men
fell in the river and were drowned. I ran the race of my life, but I
got over safely. We advanced up a side of a hill, as the river was
down a valley, and when we got on top it was all open country, and
the Germans held a position on the hills in front of us, and their
infantry had trenches just below them. Their shells started to drop on
us. We advanced a bit. We were getting slaughtered. We lay down flat
on our stomachs. They were well in the trenches, and we could see they
meant to make a stand. We lay there helpless against their artillery.
The shells ceased a while, and their infantry tried to rush us, but as
soon as they left their trenches our rifle fire played hell with them.
They were trying to rush us, but we drove them back time after time. My
rifle I could hardly hold, as it was red-hot with the continual firing.
It was raining all the time, and we were lying in water. I had to keep
dropping my rifle and wet my hands on the ground. We could not move
an inch. The shells started again. It was like waiting to be killed.
It was miserable lying in wet. We lay there for four days, getting
biscuits and bully beef at night, when the supplies used to creep up to
us at the risk of their lives."
Another instance of bulldog resistance was thus recorded: "At one place
we had a surprise attack. We were just getting ready for some food,
when all of a sudden shells started bursting around us. I can tell you,
it was a case of being up and doing. Dixies and tea-cans were flung one
side, our tea spilt, fires put out, and the order given to stand to our
guns and horses; everyone to prepare for action. Still, we were not to
be caught napping. Our boys only close one eye when we get a chance
of a sleep, so you can tell we were wide awake to the fact that it was
a case of do or die. Our gallant boys, the Guards, held them at bay
until our death-dealing pea-shooters put them to flight; nevertheless,
the Germans made a strong resistance during the night, and it was only
after a hard struggle that we managed to be victorious."
How the Coldstream Guards saved a division of British troops is told by
one of them: "The Germans were in tremendous numbers, easily sufficient
to swamp us. We had chosen the position very carefully, and our flanks
were protected by barbed-wire defences. The enemy suffered fearful
losses along that narrow strip of road, but they never relaxed their
efforts to take the place by storm. So fierce was the fighting that
the Germans did manage once to capture one of our machine guns, but
they did not keep it long--we soon had it back. Rush after rush came
during the night, but our lads held fast. The German big guns were very
troublesome. One of them was a particular danger, and the order came to
one of the machine gunners to try to scrap it. 'Yes, sir, what range?'
'Four hundred yards,' came the reply. The gunner adapted his machine,
and let drive. One shot was sufficient. It got the German gun right
in the breech, and it did not bark again that night. The engagement
proceeded all night. A huge German force was held up by a comparative
handful of British soldiers, while the latter's main body was able to
extricate itself from a most precarious position."
A soldier of the 1st Queen's described this case of bulldog resistance:
"On September 17th we were supporting the Northamptons, who were hotly
engaged with the enemy. The Germans threw up their hands, and the
Northants ceased to press home the attack. As they approached, however,
instead of surrendering, the Germans opened a withering fire, and the
Northants were compelled to retire. Their danger was recognised by
Colonel Warren, whose machine-gun section was disabled. He himself
served a gun, assisted by his adjutant, and helped to pour in a heavy
fire on the Germans, who suffered severely. Both officers paid for
their gallantry with their lives. A shrapnel shell from a German gun
burst over them, their gun was shattered, and Colonel Warren and
Captain Wilson were instantaneously killed."
A soldier related how when unable to sleep one night with the cold of
the trenches the regiment wished for some warming work and got it. "We
were called out to support an infantry brigade. During the action at
one point the line broke, and our lads fell back in some confusion.
Reserves were pressed forward to feed the fighting line, and the
advance began again. Once more the Germans were too heavy for our
chaps, and again they were forced back. They halted for a little to
take a rest and then began again. They dashed up the slope like wild
cats and closed with the Germans, who were by this time getting tired
of it. There was no falling back this time, and though it was very hard
work indeed, the whole line of trenches was cleared and the Germans
sent flying. I tell you that it is so terrible in the trenches at
times, that we mutter through our chattering teeth prayers to Almighty
God only to give the Germans sufficient grace to make them come out and
attack us, just to warm us up and give us the exercise our aching limbs
are crying out for."
After relating how his regiment at one place held its ground to the
last, a soldier proudly added: "General French has thanked us for the
way we behaved, and praise from him is worth a great deal more than
from other men. He is not in a hurry to say nice things about us, but
when he does speak we know he means every word of it, and maybe more.
That's the way to get round the soldiers."