"CROSSING THE AISNE"
In order to gain a clear idea of what was involved in the feat of
"crossing the Aisne," which more than one expert has declared to be the
greatest military feat in river crossing in the history of arms, it is
well to look at the topography of that point, first in its relation to
the whole German line, and, second, in its relation to possible attack
in September, 1914.
The prepared positions on the Aisne to which the Germans fell back after
the battle of the Marne, were along a line of exceptionally strong
natural barriers. The line extends from a point north of Verdun, on the
heights of the Meuse, across the wooded country of the Argonne and the
plain of Champagne to Rheims, thence northwest to Brimont, crossing the
Aisne near its confluence with the Suippe, and from thence proceeding to
Craonne, whence it takes a westerly course along the heights of the
Aisne to the Forest of the Eagle, north of Compiegne. The eastern end of
this line has already been described in connection with the battles of
the Marne, and it is the western section of this line which now demands
consideration. Just as the River Marne was taken as a basis for the
consideration of the topography of the battles that centered round the
crossing of the Ourcq, Grand Morin, Petit Morin, and the Marne, so the
Aisne is naturally the most important determinant in the problems of its
crossing.
The River Aisne rises in the Argonne, southwest of Verdun. Through the
Champagne region its banks are of gradual slope, but shortly after it
passes Rethel, on its westerly course, the configuration changes
sharply, and at Craonne the bluffs overlooking the river are 450 feet
high. It is easy to see what an inaccessible barrier is made by such a
line of cliffs. For forty miles this line of bluffs continues, almost
reaching to Compiegne, where the Aisne enters the Oise. Not only are the
banks of the Aisne thus guarded by steep bluffs, but the character of
those bluffs is peculiarly fitted for military purposes. For long
stretches along the north side the cliffs stand sheer and have spurs
that dip down sharply to the valley. The ridge, or the top of the bluff,
which looks from below like the scarp of a great plateau, lies at an
average of a mile or more from the stream. Many of these spurs jut out
in such a way that if fortified they could enfilade up and downstream.
To add to the military value of such a barrier the edge of the scarp is
heavily wooded, while the lower slopes are steep and grassy, with small
woods at irregular intervals. Even from the high ground on the south
bank of the stream, the top of the plateau on the north cannot be seen,
and from below it is effectually cloaked.
Two tributaries are to be considered in this river valley which thus
forms so natural a post of defense. Both flow in from the south, the
Suippe, which joins the main stream at Neufchatel-sur-Aisne and the
Vesle, on which stands the ancient city of Rheims. This river joins the
Aisne a little over seven miles east of Soissons, which is itself twenty
miles east of Compiegne.
The line taken by the German armies for their stand was not the river
itself, but the northern ridge. At no place more than a mile and a half
from the river, it was always within gunfire of any crossing. Every
place of crossing was commanded by a spur. Every road on the north bank
was in their hands, every road on the south bank curved upward so as to
be a fair mark for their artillery. As the German drive advanced, a huge
body of sappers and miners had been left behind to fortify this Aisne
line, and the system developed was much the same along its entire
distance.
There were two lines of barbed-wire entanglements, one in the bed of the
stream which would prevent fording or swimming, and which, being under
water, could not easily be destroyed by gunfire from the southern bank.
Above this was a heavy chevaux-de-frise and barbed-wire entanglement,
partly sunk and concealed from view; in many places pitted and covered
with brushwood. Above this, following approximately a thirty-foot
contour, came a line of trenches for infantry, and fifty yards behind a
second line of trenches, commanding a further elevation of fifty feet.
Two-thirds of the way up the hill came the trench-living quarters, the
kitchens, the bakeries, the dormitories, and so forth, and the crest of
the hill bristled along its entire length with field guns, effectually
screened by trees. On the further side of the ridge, in chalk pits, were
the great howitzers, tossing their huge shells over the ridge and its
defenses into the river itself, and even on the south bank beyond.
Truly, a position of power, and one that the boldest of troops might
hesitate to attack.
It is quite possible that had the entire strength of the German position
been known, no attempt to cross would have been made, but there was
always a possibility that the counterchecks of the German army were no
more than the rear-guard actions of the three or four days immediately
preceding. Yet Sir John French seems to have expected the true state of
affairs, for he remarks in his dispatches:
"The battles of the Marne, which lasted from the morning of the 6th to
the evening of the 10th, had hardly ended in the precipitate flight of
the enemy when we were brought face to face with a position of
extraordinary strength, carefully intrenched and prepared for defense by
an army and staff which are thorough adepts in such work."
Yet it was evident that if the armies of the Allies were to secure any
lasting benefit from the battles of the Marne, they must dislodge the
invading hosts from their new vantage ground. It was obvious that the
task was one of great peril and one necessarily likely to be attended
with heavy loss of life. Sir John French, knowing the tactical value of
driving a fleeing army hard, determined on forcing the issue without
delay.
Before proceeding to recount in detail the events of that six days'
battle of the Aisne, which little by little solidified into an impasse,
it might be well to trace the new positions that had been taken by the
respective armies engaged in the struggle for the supremacy of western
Europe. General von Kluck, still in charge of the First German Army, was
in control of the western section from the Forest of the Eagle to the
plateau of Craonne. He had forced his men to almost superhuman efforts,
and by midnight of September 11 he had succeeded in getting most of his
artillery across the Aisne, at Soissons, and had whipped his infantry
into place on the heights north of the stream. That, with his exhausted
troops, he succeeded remains still a tribute to his power as a
commander. But the men were done. Further attack meant rout. His
salvation lay in his heavy field guns and howitzers, an arm of the
service in which the French army, under General Maunoury (and General
Pau, who had taken a superior command during the turning of the German
drive at the Marne), was notoriously weak. Still there was little
comfort there, for the British army was well supplied with heavy
artillery, and the Fifth French Army of General d'Esperey, also coming
up to confront him, was not entirely lacking in this branch of the
service.
General von Buelow's army was combined with that of General von Hausen,
who fell ill and was retired from his command. Against this combined
army was ranged the victorious and still fresh army of General Foch,
lacking two corps, which had been detached for reserves elsewhere. One
of these corps apparently went to the aid of General Sarrail, whose
stand was still a weak point in the Allies' line. General Sarrail,
however, was now better supported by the movement of General Langle with
the Fourth French Army, who advanced toward Troyon and confronted the
combined armies of the Imperial Crown Prince and the Duke of
Wuerttemberg. This released General Sarrail to his task of intrenching
and enlarging the defenses about Verdun, the importance of which had
become more poignant than ever before in the events of the past week.
The far eastern end of the line remained unchanged.
The credit for the crossing of the Aisne lies with the British troops.
The battles of the Marne had thrust Sir John French into a prominent
position, wherein he was able to achieve a much-desired result without
any great loss of life. But the battle of the Aisne was different. It
was a magnificent effort boldly carried out, and, as was afterward
learned, it could not have been successful had the onset been delayed
even one day.
General Maunoury's army, encamped in the forest of the Compiegne, was
again the first to give battle, as it had been in the battles of the
Marne. Using some heavy guns that had been sent on from Paris, in
addition to the batteries that had been lent him by the British, he
secured some well-planned artillery positions on the south bank, and
spent the morning in a long-range duel with the German gunners near
Soissons. The Germans had not all taken up their positions on the north
side of the Aisne on the morning of September 12, 1914, and the heavy
battery of the Fourth British Division did good service early in the
morning, dislodging some of these before it wheeled in line beside the
big French guns, in an endeavor to shell the trenches and level the
barbed-wire entanglements, that an opportunity might be made to cross.
But the results were not encouraging of success, for the reply from the
further shore was terrific. General von Kluck's army might be worn out,
but the iron throats of his guns were untiring, and he knew that huge
reenforcements were on the way.