THE GERMAN ATTACK.
A battle, as severe in its hand-to-hand struggle and toll of life as
Fredericksburg or Antietam, in the American Civil War--yet in this vast
conflict only an incident, chronicled as "progress" in the official
reports--such was the battle of Soissons. It was the most terrific and
the most bitterly contested of the great war up to date, January 8.
There, for eight days, men fell, torn with shell and bullet, and over
these trenches men charged in the face of certain death.
A German attack in force opened the battle on January 8. General Joffre
had slightly altered his plan, as outlined to Hal and Chester, and
immediately the battle began the French made a counter-attack.
The Aisne river, at this point, is one of the most strategic positions.
The battlefield covered a front of approximately seven miles. On the
western side is a deep valley, running northward, which is bounded on
either side by turnpikes from Soissons, La Fere and Laon.
A high, level plateau rises steeply a couple of hundred feet from the
valley of the Aisne and formed the center and eastern flank of the
battlefield. The plateau is deeply notched by three steep-sided ravines
running down to the Aisne. Through these General Joffre, if he chose,
could bring up supports unnoticed and without danger to positions on
the plateau.
The French counter-attack, then, was made up the valley to the west
between the two turnpikes.
Immediately the Germans had begun their offensive the French made ready
for their attack by a terrible artillery bombardment. Field guns and
heavy artillery concentrated their fire on this section of the German
trenches, and there was such a rain of shell and shrapnel on the
defenders that they were unable to make an effective defense against the
French infantry attack which followed.
The French, with great dash, carried part of the German positions; but
this success dampened the vigor of their artillery bombardment, which
could not be continued without endangering their own men. The big German
guns opened a heavy fire on the rearward communications of the French,
preventing the bringing up of reënforcements.
Meanwhile, General Von Kluck, the German commander, was gathering his
forces for a counter-stroke, which came, not through the valley, but
across the high plateau to the eastward, a large part of which was held
by the French. The surface of the plateau, which is fairly level, was
crossed by row after row of deep French trenches, each trench with a
clear field for the fire of its guns.
It seemed impossible, in the cold light of the day after the passing
excitement of battle, to conceive of troops successfully storming such
intrenched positions But this is just what the Germans did, or thought
they did, for their officers did not realize that the giving way of the
French at this point was part of General Joffre's counter-stroke.
There were five successive lines of permanent French trenches, each with
its entanglement of barbed wire, supported on iron posts. German pioneers
cut their way through the first entanglement before the general attack,
but it was necessary for the others to make the advance across the
exposed positions under fire.
These attackers, however, were General Von Kluck's veterans, who, after
the famous dash on Paris, the battle of the Marne and the retirement to
the Aisne, had remained in comparative inactivity since the middle of
September.
They succeeded in sweeping across the plateau, first in the center and
then on the eastern flank, carrying trench after trench by storm in an
interrupted and irresistible attack.
The French retired from the plateau. Then they gave up the valley below
and retreated across the river. The Germans advanced through the valley.
The narrow turnpikes had become great cemeteries. Four thousand German
troops, engaged in the work of burying the dead as fast as they fell, had
been unable to clear the field of even their own dead after eight days,
while the field was strewn with the bodies of French infantrymen, in
their far-to-be-seen red-and-blue uniforms, swarthy-faced Turcos,
colonials, Alpine riflemen and bearded territorials.
There came a lull in the fighting. The French retained a foothold
north of the river at St. Paul, where the bridge from Soissons crosses
the stream; but the bridge head was commanded by German artillery on
the heights.
The promenade along the exposed side of the plateau, in sight of Soissons
and the bank of the Aisne, also held by the French in force, gave a
rather uncanny feeling of insecurity. However, it was less dangerous than
it seemed, for a slight haze rendered the group in German field gray
invisible to the French artillery on the heights on the opposite side of
the valley.
In the part of the field where Hal and Chester had been on the eighth day
of the fighting, at the edge of the plateau, the struggle had been
desperate. Here, with the final German assault, the French had fought
stubbornly and a hand-to-hand struggle ensued.
Regiments of French troops, rather than retire to safety down a
declivity, had contested this section of the field to the last, finally
to be mowed down by the German artillery as the infantry was forced back.
Hal and Chester had taken no important part in the battle, and had
remained with the little body of British troops, held with masses of
infantry of the French, in reserve, and had only been thrown forward with
the reënforcements when General Joffre decided that it was time to halt
the tide of the German advance.
Immediately heavy reënforcements were hurled upon the Germans, and the
latter must have been surprised by the fact that an apparently beaten
enemy could come back so strongly to the attack. It became evident,
however, after the eighth successive day of fighting, that the German
leaders realized that General Joffre had anticipated the German attack;
for, when French reënforcements were hurled forward in force, and the
entire line assumed the offensive, the Teutons gave back rapidly.
All that they had gained at such terrible sacrifice was again soon in the
hands of the French. To their recent positions the French advanced--and
beyond--carrying trench after trench which had been occupied for a few
days by the enemy.
There was no staying this terrible drive.
The greatest pressure by the French was brought to bear upon the two
flanks of the enemy, and these gave back while the German center held;
but soon this gave way also and retreated, for General Von Kluck
perceived that if it did not keep pace with the retreat of either flank,
it was likely to be cut off and annihilated.
Thus, from apparent victory the Germans had met defeat. It was a hard
blow to the Kaiser, who from the rear watched the battle as it progressed
and stood nervously clenching and unclenching his hands as victory turned
into defeat.
The first two rows of German trenches had fallen into the hands of
the French, and there the troops prepared to make themselves at home.
Thousands upon thousands of men were set to work burying the dead,
and soon the field was cleared of the bodies. The losses on both
sides had been enormous, for the battle of Soissons had been the
bloodiest of the war.
General Joffre, who had moved his headquarters somewhat toward the rear
when the German advance began, reoccupied his old quarters once more, and
it was here that Hal and Chester, having been summoned, found him.
"I have a mission that I thought you would like to undertake," said
the general.
"We shall be glad to," returned Chester.
"The little village of Pom lies just beyond our farthest outpost," said
General Joffre. "Take the squadron of British and occupy it. You should
be able to do so with little difficulty."
The lads saluted and departed, rejoicing that they had some work
ahead of them.
The British raised a loud cheer when they learned that they were to
advance, for they had had little part in the terrible fighting around
Soissons, and were growing restless.
It was after dark when the little force moved out from the trenches and
advanced upon Pom. They marched quietly and swiftly, and morning found
them in the streets of the little town.
Here they encountered a small force of the enemy, who, however, gave way
before them, evidently believing them the vanguard of a larger force.
"Now," said Hal, "half of us may as well turn in while the other half
stands guard. Break in the doors of some of these houses, men."
Then it was that His Lordship, the lanky Englishman who had afforded so
much amusement to the others, came to life. Up to this time he had been
marching along with hanging head, apparently in nowise concerned in what
was taking place.
He ran lightly up the steps of the nearest house, and, putting his
shoulder to the door, broke it in with ease. Immediately he
disappeared within.
Into this house Hal and Chester also went, and instructed their men to
occupy the adjoining buildings.
"We can give a good account of ourselves in here, should we be attacked,"
Hal explained.
"Right," Chester agreed. "But do you anticipate an attack?"
"I do," replied Hal. "As soon as the Germans we drove out report to the
main body, a strong force probably will be sent against us."
"And are we supposed to hold them off?"
"We are supposed to stick until ordered to fall back, I reckon,"
Hal replied.
"Well," declared Chester, "we are at the very opposite side of the town
and can see them coming--if they do."
They were attracted by a peculiar noise at the opposite side of the room
in which they stood.
It was His Lordship, dead to the world, snoring, with wide-open mouth.
"The sergeant was right," said Hal. "His Lordship can sleep anywhere."
Almost at this moment there came a warning from without.
"Germans approaching in force, sir," cried the sergeant, poking his head
in the door.
And at that moment there came a clattering of horses' hoofs, and a moment
later a French officer entered the room.
"General Joffre orders you to fall back, sir!" he said.