ON THE ZOTA LIPA
TARNOPOL,
_July 6, 1915_.
We found the General of the army now occupying the line that runs
from approximately the head of the Zota Lipa to its confluence with
the Dniester, living in a palace south-west of ----. These wonderful
estates come as a great surprise to strangers travelling through the
country. One passes a sordid Galician village filled with dogs and
half-naked children, and perhaps on the outskirts one comes to a
great gate and turning in finds oneself in a veritable Versailles,
with beautiful avenues of trees, lakes, waterfalls and every other
enhancement of the landscape that money and good taste can procure. I
have never seen more beautiful grounds or a more attractively decorated
and beautifully furnished house than this one where our particular
General was living with his staff.
During my visit to this army, I saw and talked with the General
commanding twice, and he permitted me to see his maps and gave his
consent to my visiting any of his line which I desired to see. He
sent one of his staff with me, who spoke English, as a guide and
interpreter. Again I regret I cannot give the General’s name, but
suffice to say that from this head-quarters I gathered that, barring
the failure of their centre army, a retreat would probably have been
unnecessary, though it is folly to disguise the fact that this army was
hard pressed, suffered not a little, and was constantly outnumbered in
both men and munitions. It is probably not unfair to place its whole
movement under the category of a rear-guard action.
During the retreat from Stryj to the Zota Lipa, where the army was when
I visited it, captures of enemy prisoners were made to the number of
53,000, as I was informed by the highest authority. The bulk of these
were Austrians. As I said at the time, I incline to think this must be
considered one of the most remarkable retreats in history. If I was
disposed to doubt this statement when I first heard it, my hesitation
vanished, when, during three days, I personally saw between 4,000 and
5,000 Austrian prisoners that had been taken within a week, regardless
of the fact that the army was still retiring before the enemy. I
think that the mere mention of the matter of prisoners is enough to
convince the reader that this army was not a demoralized one, and that
the furthest stretch of imagination could not consider it a badly
defeated one. A glance at the map serves to show that the country,
from the beginning of this retreat to the Zota Lipa, is an ideal one
in which to fight defensively! and as a matter of fact the country for
100 versts further east is equally well adapted to the same purpose.
A number of streams running almost due north and south flow into the
Dniester river, and as each of these rivulets runs between more or less
pretentious bluffs it is a very simple matter to hold them with very
little fieldworks.
What the Russians have been doing here is this. They take up one of
these natural lines of defence and throw up temporary works on the
bluffs and wait for the Austrians. When the latter come up they find
the Russians too strong to be turned out with anything short of the
full enemy strength. Usually a week is taken up by the Austro-German
forces in bringing up their full strength, getting their guns in
position and preparing for an attack. The Russians in the meantime sit
on their hills, taking all the losses that they can get, and repel the
Austrian preliminary attacks as long as they can do so without risking
too much. By the time that enemy operations have reached a really
serious stage, and an attack in force is made, it is discovered that
the main force of the Russians has departed, and when the positions
are finally carried, only a rearguard of cavalry is discovered holding
the trenches; the bulk of these usually get away on their horses,
leaving the exhausted Austrians sitting in a hardly-won line with
the knowledge that the Russians are already miles away waiting for
them to repeat the operation all over again. The prisoners have been
captured for the most part in preliminary operations on these works,
on occasions where the Russians have made counter attacks or where
the Austrians have advanced too far and been cut off. The youth and
inexperience of their officers, and the fact that the rank and file
have no heart in the fight, have made it easy for them to go too far
in the first place, and willing to surrender without a fight when
they discover their mistake. All of this I was told at head-quarters,
and had an opportunity to verify the next day by going to one of the
forward positions on the Zota Lipa.
I have within the last few months, after poking about on the billiard
table terrain of the Polish Front, acquired a great liking for hills,
protected by woods if possible. I have therefore picked places on this
trip where I could get to points of observation from which I could
see the terrain without being, shot at, if this could be avoided with
dignity. It was just such a place as this towards which we headed
the next day. My own impressions were, and still are, that this army
might retire further yet from its present positions. There are certain
reasons which I cannot divulge at present, but are no doubt understood
in England, that makes it unwise for these armies to attempt to hold
advance positions if they can fall quietly back without the sacrifice
of any positions which will have a bad effect on the Russian campaign
as a whole. This particular army with its neighbour to the south can
do this for more than 100 versts without materially impairing its own
_moral_, and, as far as I can see, without giving the enemy any other
advantage than something to talk about.
On the way out to the positions I passed important bodies of troops
“changing front,” for it is hardly possible to call what I witnessed,
a retreat. They came swinging down the road laughing, talking and
then singing at the top of their lungs. Had I not known the points of
the compass, I should have concluded that they had scored a decisive
victory and were marching on the capital of the enemy. But of such
stuff are the moujik soldiers of the Czar.
We first visited the head-quarters of one of the Army corps, and then
motored through Ztoczow, a very beautiful little Austrian town lying
just at the gateway between ridges of hills that merge together as they
go eastward, making the road climb to the plateau land which, indented
by the valleys of the rivers running into the Dniester, stretches
practically for 100 versts east of here. Turning south from the little
town we climbed up on to this plateau land, and motored for 15 or 20
versts south to the head-quarters of a General commanding a division
of Cossack cavalry from the Caucasus. With him we had tea, and as he
spoke excellent English I was able to gather much of interest from his
point of view. He was not sufficiently near head-quarters nor of rank
high enough to be taken into the higher councils, and therefore did
not know the reasons for the constant retirements. Again and again he
assured me that the positions now held could as far as he was concerned
be retained indefinitely. His was the thankless job of the rear guard,
and it apparently went against his fighting instincts to occupy these
splendid positions and then retire through some greater strategy, which
he, far off in the woods from everything, did not understand.
One is constantly impressed with the isolation of the men holding
important minor commands. For days and weeks they are without outside
news, and many of them have even only a vague idea as to what is going
on in neighbouring corps, and almost none at all of the movements in
adjoining armies. I was convinced from the way this General--and he
was a fine old type--talked, that he did not consider his men had ever
been beaten at all, and that he looked upon his movements merely as the
result of orders given for higher strategic considerations. From him we
went out to the line on the Zota Lipa. The Russians at this time had
retired from the Gnita Lipa (the great Austro-German “victory” where
they lost between 4,000 and 5,000 prisoners and I know not how many
dead and wounded) and had now for four days been quietly sitting on the
ridges of the second Lipa waiting for the enemy to come up. I think
no army can beat the Russians when it comes to forced marches, and
after each of these actions they have retired in two days a distance
that takes the enemy four or five to cover. It is because of this
speed of travel that there have been stragglers, and it is of such
that the enemy have taken the prisoners of whom they boast so much.
The position we visited was on a wonderful ridge crested with woods.
The river lay so deeply in its little valley that, though but a mile
away, we could not see the water at all, but only the shadow wherein
it lay. Our trenches were just on the edge of it while our guns and
reserves were behind us. From our position we could look into the rear
of our trenches, and across the river where the country was more open
and where the Austrians were just beginning to develop their advance.
Though the Russians had been here for several days, the enemy was just
coming up now and had not yet brought up his guns at all.
Our infantry were sniping at the blue figures which dotted the wood
a verst or two away, but at such a range that its effect was not
apparent. Our guns had not yet fired a shot, and hence the Austrians
knew nothing of our position but the fact that they were in contact
with snipers in some sort of a trench. In any case the Austrians in
a thin blue line which one could see with the naked eye, were busily
digging a trench across a field just opposite us and about 4,000 metres
distant, while with my glasses I could see the blue-clad figures
slipping about on the fringe of the wood behind their trench diggers.
Our observation point was under a big tree on an advanced spur of the
hill, a position which I think would not be held long after the arrival
of the Austrian guns. The battery commander had screwed his hyperscope
into the tree trunk, and was hopping about in impatience because his
field wire had not yet come up from the battery position in the rear.
He smacked his lips with anticipation as he saw the constantly,
increasing numbers of the enemy parading about opposite without any
cover, and at frequent intervals kept sending messengers to hurry on
the field telegraph corps.
[Illustration: Cavalry taking up position.]
[Illustration: Russian band playing the men to the trenches.]
In a few minutes there came a rustle in the brush, and two soldiers
with a reel unwinding wire came over the crest, and dropping on their
knees behind some bushes a few yards away, made a quick connection with
the telephone instrument, and then announced to the commander that
he was in touch with his guns. Instantly his face lit up, but before
speaking he turned and took a squint through his hyperscope; then with
clenched fist held at arms length he made a quick estimate of the
range and snapped out an order over his shoulder. The orderly at the
’phone mumbled something into the mouthpiece of the instrument. “All
ready,” he called to the commander. “Fire,” came the quick response.
Instantly there came a crash from behind us. I had not realized that
the guns were so near until I heard the report and the shell whine over
our heads. We stood with our glasses watching the Austrians. A few
seconds later came the white puff in the air appearing suddenly as from
nowhere, and then the report of the explosion drifted back to us on the
breeze. The shot was high and over. Another quick order, and another
screamed over our head, this time bursting well in front of the trench.
Through my glasses I could see that there was some agitation among the
blue figures in the field across the river. Again the gun behind us
snapped out its report, and this time the shell burst right over the
trench and the diggers disappeared as by magic, and even the blue coats
on the edge of the wood suddenly vanished from our view. The artillery
officer smiled quietly, took another good look through the glass at
his target, called back an order, and the battery came into action
with shell after shell breaking directly over the trench. But as far
as we could see there was not a living soul, only the dark brown ridge
where lay the shallow ditch which the Austrians had been digging. The
value of the shrapnel was gone, and the Captain sighed a little as he
called for his carefully saved and precious high-explosives, of which
as I learned he had very few to spare. The first fell directly in an
angle of the trench, and burst with the heavy detonation of the higher
explosive, sending up a little volcano of dust and smoke, while for a
minute the hole smoked as though the earth were on fire.
“They are in that place right enough,” was the verdict of the director,
“I saw them go. I’ll try another,” and a second later another shell
burst in almost the identical spot. That it had found a living target
there could be no doubt, for suddenly the field was dotted with the
blue coats scampering in all directions for the friendly shelter of
the wood in their rear. It was an object lesson of the difference in
effectiveness between high explosive and shrapnel. The Captain laughed
gleefully at his success as he watched the effect of his practice.
Nearly all the Austrians were running, but away to the right was
a group of five, old timers perhaps who declined to run, and they
strolled leisurely away in the manner of veterans who scorn to hurry.
The Commander again held out his fist, made a quick estimate of the
range and called a deviation of target and a slight elevation of the
gun. Again the gun crashed behind us and I saw the shell fall squarely
in the centre of the group. From the smoking crater three figures
darted at full speed. I saw nothing of the other two. No doubt their
fragments lay quivering in the heap of earth and dust from which the
fumes poured for fully a minute. It was excellent practice, and when I
congratulated the officer he smiled and clicked his heels as pleased
as a child. We saw nothing more of the enemy while we remained. No
doubt they were waiting for the night to come to resume their digging
operations.
How long the Russians will remain on this line can be merely
speculation. Many of these lines that are taken up temporarily prove
unusually strong, or the enemy proves unexpectedly weak, and what was
intended as only a halt, gradually becomes strengthened until it may
become the final line. My own idea was, however, that after forcing
the Austrians to develop their full strength and suffer the same heavy
losses, the Russians would again retire to a similar position and do
it all over again. It is this type of action which is slowly breaking
the hearts of the enemy. Again and again they are forced into these
actions which make them develop their full strength and are taken only
when supported by their heavy guns, only to find, when it is all over,
that the Russians have departed and are already complacently awaiting
them a few days’ marches further on. This kind of game has already told
heavily on the Austrian spirits. How much longer they can keep it up
one can only guess. I don’t think they can do it much longer, as not
one of these advances is now yielding them any strategic benefit, and
the asset of a talking point to be given out by the German Press Bureau
probably does not impress them as a sufficiently good reason to keep
taking these losses and making these sacrifices.
Leaving the position we returned to our base, where we spent the night
preparatory to moving on the next day to the army that lies next in
the line north of us, being the third from the extreme Russian left.
My impressions of the condition and spirit of the army visited this
day were very satisfactory, and I felt as I did about its southern
neighbor--that its movements for the moment have not a vast importance.
It may go back now, but when the conditions which are necessary are
fulfilled it can almost certainly advance. Probably we need expect
nothing important for some months here and further retirements may be
viewed with equanimity by the Allies. Not too far away there is a final
line which they will not leave without a definite stand and from which
I question if they can be driven at all.
A VISIT TO AN HISTORIC ARMY