THE RETIREMENT
It was from that field that we commenced the great Retirement. My
recollections of the villages and towns we passed through on our way
are now slight, since we often marched at night, though I have a clear
remembrance of some of the larger ones which we traversed by day.
It was the twenty-fourth of August, on a blazing hot afternoon, when we
started upon our great task. There was not a soul amongst the Officers
or the men who had the slightest idea as to what was our destination.
The first day or two we tramped along happily enough. It was not,
I believe, until the evening of the second day that we obtained an
inkling of what was about to happen, when we found ourselves passing
through the outskirts of Mauberge once more. Most of us got the
impression that we were retiring with a view to taking up a better
position. A rumour went the rounds of the regiment that day to say that
the C.O. was leaving us for a Staff appointment; and he did leave us,
but returned again in the course of the next few days.
Most of the next ten days remain in my mind as a nightmare. The weather
was exceedingly hot, the long roads with stone sets stretching as
far as eye could see were very wearisome, and the men were utterly
exhausted. On the third day out we took prisoner a German mounted man,
with two others, one of whom got away, and a second was shot.
On one occasion, just before entering a wood, one of our aeroplanes
came down near us, and the pilot ran promptly to the General. After a
few words, our direction was entirely changed. Had it not been for that
aeroplane we should certainly have been ambushed.
We marched in Brigades, each day the lead being taken in turns, the
last Regiment finding rearguard; and the same thing happened by
Divisions, three Brigades to a Division, and each Brigade taking its
turn to lead. The Provost Marshal and Military Police went on in front
to inform the civilian population of towns and villages to clear out as
quickly as possible, and to publish notices of the enemy's advance.
The hardest time of all was when one's particular regiment found
rearguard: then we often had to march back for a few miles along the
way we had come, dig trenches, hold the enemy the whole of the day,
and then at night continue the march until we picked up the main body
again. Oftentimes on reaching the main body it was found that they
were just ready to start again, so the rearguard would be obliged to
continue their march without intermission.
It was a couple of days out of Mons and during a rearguard action that
the Munster Fusiliers received a good drubbing, but not until after
they had held the enemy at bay for several hours. My regiment was that
evening doing rearguard to our own Brigade when some of the Munsters
retired through us. One poor fellow going through told us how his chum
had had his jaw blown away by a piece of shell, and the Germans on
reaching the Munsters' trenches had killed all the wounded with the
very entrenching tools they had been using. We expected to see them
coming in force that night, but after waiting until dusk, we retired
on the main body. Unfortunately we did not get clear away without
casualties. An unlucky affair occurred in this way: we had, the day
before, passed through Soissons, and I remember it was at this village
that we caught up with the main body. On entering the village we had
to cross a bridge with a river beneath, and the Northampton Regiment
was guarding it while the Engineers stood by ready to blow it up when
we were all over. My regiment was the last to cross, and we had already
done so with the exception of one platoon, and were told to stand in
the centre of the village, when some one gave the word that we were all
over; and accordingly the Engineers blew up the bridge. No sooner had
that happened than this platoon came marching down the road. Of course
the Northamptons mistook them in the dark for the Germans, and opened
rapid fire upon them. I was afterwards told by a chum who was in that
platoon that a body of Uhlans came galloping down the road not five
minutes afterwards; and he, with one or two others who had survived the
Northamptons' fire, were taken prisoners. (This particular man fell
ill, so they put him into hospital, and when we fought the Battle of
the Marne we retook him; he was sent home, and after a month or two
convalescent leave he rejoined us.) Naturally the Officer in charge of
the Uhlans was very wild when he found the bridge had been blown up, as
it was eight miles to the next crossing.
Most of our men had thrown away all their heavy kit, such as top-coats,
etc., and the Germans of course made good use of them, some of them
putting the clothes on.
At one place at which we were billeted five of these Germans stopped
in the house next to a barn where a platoon of the Connaughts[1]
were. Just before daybreak these Germans gave the alarm, and, as the
Connaughts rushed out of their billets to the alarm post, the enemy
were awaiting them with machine guns. This I got from a man who on the
following night laid himself down to sleep on the pavement where I was
doing sentry-go. Poor fellow, he had on no hat or jacket, neither had
he any rifle or equipment. He had been following us all day, and had
had nothing to eat. So I took him into the room of the house which
we were then using as a Guard Room, and the N.C.O. in charge took
him before an Officer. His story was proved to be correct, so he was
allowed to stay with the Company for the night; but what became of him
after I know not.
Next morning my regiment was finding rearguard, so we marched through
the town to an old disused mill. Going through that, and crossing a
field, we came to a swiftly running stream, which we waded across
through water up to our armpits. On the other side we had a very steep
bank to climb, and up which we had to drive two pack animals. One of
these, after climbing up a part of the way, fell down and simply rolled
over and over till he reached the bottom. We had to shoot the wretched
animal, owing to a damaged fetlock. On gaining the summit, we set
off in skirmishing order over a mile of open country, going through
wheat-fields, trampling the ripe wheat underfoot as we went, until we
struck a main road which ran parallel with the one we had travelled the
day before. Just off this we dug the usual one-man trench, and remained
there all day long. The only sight we had of the enemy was a patrol of
cavalry too far off to be within range.
Towards four in the afternoon we commenced again to retire, and had no
sooner reached the next village before the enemy began to shell us.
Again we were lucky in getting off with no damage and no casualty. All
this was all very well, but it did not suit the men. This running away
from the enemy could not be stood at any price, and the constant cry
was: "Why don't we stand and fight them? What are we afraid of? If you
bring us here to fight, let's fight--otherwise put us all on a boat and
dump us down in England."
On several occasions we passed food-supplies left on the roadside--left
for the Germans: whole cheeses, tins of mustard, one of which I carried
for four days, but, on getting nothing to eat with it, I threw it away.
We would arrive outside a village, allotted for billets, perhaps about
7.30 p.m., and, after having marched the whole of the day, we were not
allowed to enter the village until eleven or twelve o'clock at night
to make ourselves comfy. The reason, I believe, was that it might be
shelled by the enemy. No one was allowed to touch a thing--not even
fruit--or he would be punished for looting; yet we knew very well that,
perhaps on the morrow, the Germans would secure it all.
Various bulletins were issued during that Retirement, I suppose
to cheer up the troops. One I remember contained the report of a
German who had been taken prisoner, and who had upon him a diary,
which--according to the bulletin--declared that the German Army was
starving. Another, a very strong rumour, went the rounds, to the effect
that we were doing a strategical retirement for the purpose of drawing
the main body of the German Army into France, whilst the Russians came
in on the East. Two days after that, a report was out that the Russians
were marching on Berlin, and were within a few days' march of the
capital itself. Imagine our feelings, our delight. Remember, we were
absolutely cut off from all outside news. What were we to think? Most
of us expected that the war would be over in a very short time.
After the first five days, we were given a day's halt. The whole of the
day before we had been marching until three in the morning, and were
told on this day's rest that we had done so well, out-pacing the enemy
and outwitting them so successfully, that we should no doubt be able
to rest for the next three days. On that day they paid us out, giving
each man five francs, which, however, were of no earthly use to us, as
we were all brigaded in a large field, and there was not a shop for
miles. Our three-days' rest, however, did not materialize: we were off
again next morning, with the enemy hot on our heels, having overtaken
us by motors. So we had to continue our weary task sooner than we had
anticipated.
We were all fairly quiet on the country roads, but as soon as we came
to any large towns or villages we would always knock out the strains
of "Tipperary." Another good point in Tommy's character manifested
itself--no matter how many miles he had covered during the day,
during which he would be grumbling the whole of the time, he would,
immediately on striking camp, walk if necessary for miles looking for
a hay or straw stack on which to find something soft and clean to lie
upon.
One turning point on that Retirement was a small town, by name Bernay,
I believe, in the Champagne. There we arrived on a Saturday at midday;
the afternoon was spent in resting. A few days before we had struck off
south from Meaux, and we heard that we were to defend Paris. During the
afternoon before we arrived at Bernay, we had passed an encampment of
refugees numbering many thousands, and just outside Bernay were many
more. I was on outpost duty that night; and a suspicious individual
came up to me whilst I was on sentry. I, of course, inquired his
business; but, as he could not understand my language, he took no
notice. As I could not leave my post, I told another man who was off
duty at the time to bring him in. This fellow went out with his rifle,
but, although he was one of the fastest runners in my regiment, he
could not overtake the stranger, who got away. He may have been only a
refugee having a look round, or, on the other hand, he may have been a
spy.
That day we finished our retirement from Mons: it was the sixth of
September, 1914.
THE ADVANCE
The following morning we left Bernay behind, and, going out the
opposite side of the town from which we had entered, we marched two
miles along the road until we came to a hill on the left of the road
about five hundred yards off. There we advanced to the cover of the
hill and were ordered to lie down. We were then informed that a
four-days' battle was expected, and that a force of 40,000 Germans was
on our front. Nothing, however, came of it that day; so we advanced a
few more miles, and took rest in a field for an hour. There we were
told that all men who wished to do so could grow a beard. From there we
marched on to billets in a village.
The next morning we were away early, and during that day we passed
through a village from which the Germans had obviously made a hurried
exit, for we found that many things had been left behind. _We_ were
the ones that were doing the chasing now, and a nice change it was
to us! Of course, we could not go very fast, not as fast as we had
been made to go when retiring; and we were allowed to march in greater
comfort. During the Retirement the infantry had had to put up with many
trials--for instance: we took the right of the road and on the left we
sometimes had Cavalry, Artillery, and Transport, which made marching
most uncomfortable, whereas during the Advance we had the road to
ourselves.
On the third day out we came across several dead horses and dead
troopers, where our advance party had come into contact with the
enemy's rearguard.
FOOTNOTE:
[1] The 88th Connaughts got badly cut up on the Retirement.