THE BRITISH AT THE AISNE
In the battles of the Marne, the brunt of the fighting had been borne
mainly by the French armies, but the major part of work of the battle of
the Aisne was borne by the British Expeditionary Force. Sir John French
wasted no time. Saturday night, September 12, 1914, was a night of labor
for engineers and gunners. The bridge trains belonging to the First and
Second Army Corps were ordered to the edge of the river at daybreak, and
as soon as the first gleam of dawn appeared in the sky, the heroic
effort began.
At the risk of seeming a little detailed, in order to understand the
somewhat involved maneuvers by which the British won the crossing of the
Aisne, instead of dealing with the advance of the British army as a
unit, in the manner that was done in discussing the battles of the
Marne, their activities will be shown as army corps: the Third Army
Corps to the westward, under General Pulteney; the Second Army Corps,
under Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien, and the First Army Corps to the
eastward, under Sir Douglas Haig, all, of course, under the general
direction of Sir John French.
The British had no means of knowing what was in front of them. There was
only one way to find out--a way, alas, often costly, a way that in every
campaign costs thousands of lives apparently fruitlessly, and that is a
frontal attack. Down over the slopes of the southern bank, into the
bright, smiling river valley, where the little white villages in the
distance were hiding their dilapidated state, marched the British army.
Not a sign of activity showed itself upon the farther shore. A summer
haze obscured objects at a distance, but, shortly before nine o'clock,
the German batteries opened fire with a roar that was appalling.
The Third Army Corps, after a brief artillery duel, advanced on Soissons
to cover the work of the engineers who were building a pontoon bridge
for the French troops. The German fire was deadly, yet though more than
half their men fell, the engineers put the pontoon bridge across. German
howitzer fire, from behind the ridge, however, soon destroyed the
bridge. The Turcos crossed the river in rowboats and had a fierce but
indecisive struggle in the streets of the medieval city. Meanwhile, with
the failure of the pontoon bridge at Soissons, General Pulteney struck
to the northeast along the road to Venizel. The bridge at that point had
been blown up, but the British sappers repaired it sufficiently to set
the Eleventh Brigade across, and even, despite the lurid hail of shot
and shell, four regiments gathered at Bucy-de-Long by one o'clock on
that Sunday, September 13, 1914. Over the heads of these courageous
regiments towered the great hill of Vregny, a veritable Gibraltar of
heavy guns with numerous machine guns along the wooded edge. There was
no protection, and no shelter against the terrible German Maxim fire, so
that the moment came when to attempt further advance meant instant
annihilation. Still, under cover of the success of the Eleventh Brigade
the engineers built a pontoon bridge at Venizel and the Twelfth Brigade
crossed to Bucy-de-Long, with a number of the lighter artillery. As
there was absolutely no shelter, to storm the height at that point was
impossible, and to remain where they were was merely to court sudden
death, so the Twelfth Brigade worked over the slopes to the ravine at
Chipres, where they intrenched.
The task in front of the Second Army Corps was no less difficult. The
bridge at Conde was too strongly defended to be taken by assault, as Sir
Horace Smith-Dorrien speedily found out, so he divided his forces into
two parts, one of which was directed at the village of Missy, two and
one half miles west of Conde, while the other concentrated its attack on
a crossing at the town of Vailly, three miles east of Conde. Both
detachments made good their crossing, but the regiments that found
themselves near Missy also realized that hasty, very hasty intrenchment
was imperative, lest every one of them should be blown into kingdom come
before half an hour had passed by. During the night some troops were
rafted over, three men at a time, and these encamped near Missy. It was
a false move. For sixteen days thereafter the British troops had to
remain in their dugouts, a large part of the time without food or water.
To show a head above the trench was sudden death.
The regiments that crossed the river at Vailly found themselves in even
a worse plight. No sooner had they crossed than the bombardment began,
and the Germans knew every range in the place accurately. More than
that, the line of trenches was open to enfilade fire from a hidden
battery, which did not unmask until the trench was filled with soldiers.
This Eighth Brigade had to retire in disorder.
The Fifth Brigade, attached to the First Army Corps under Sir Douglas
Haig, an Irish and Scotch group of regiments, were the most successful
of all. The bridge at Pont Arcy had been destroyed, but still one of its
girders spanned the stream. It would have been tricky walking, even
under ordinary circumstances, but nerve racking to attempt, when from
every hill and wood and point of land, Maxims, machine guns and a steady
rifle fire are concentrated on the man crossing that one girder. By the
afternoon, the engineers attached to the First Army Corps had also
established a pontoon bridge, and the whole brigade crossed the river in
the evening and dug itself in.
Late on Sunday afternoon, however, a weak spot showed itself in the
German line and Sir John French threw the First Division of the First
Army Corps across the river near Bourg. Some of the infantry crossed by
a small pontoon bridge and a brigade of cavalry started to follow them.
When they were in mid-stream, however, a terrific storm of fire smote
them. The cavalry pushed on, but could not ride up the hill in the teeth
of the bombardment. The infantry were eager to go, but nothing was to be
gained by the move, so the cavalry returned over the pontoon, by a most
extraordinary occurrence not having lost a single member in the three
hours it had been scouting on the hostile side of the Aisne. The
infantry intrenched themselves solidly to await the morning.
The main forces of the First Division were especially lucky. Using the
canal aqueduct they made their way toward Bourg, and drove the Germans
back toward the main ridge.
More than three-quarters of the summit of the ridge had been won, the
entire Second Infantry Brigade was across, the Twenty-fifth Artillery
Brigade was across, ready to support, and General Bulfin, instead of
tiring his men by making them intrench there, ordered them to rest,
throwing their outposts in front of the hamlet of Moulins.
This ended the first day's fighting on the battle of the Aisne. Of the
Third Army Corps, a small body of men had reached Chipres. There they
had been joined by a small force from the Second Army Corps. In the
First Army a strong detachment dug itself in not far from Pont d'Arcy.
The incomparably superior position of the Germans, their huge numbers,
their possession of innumerable guns, made even this shaky tenure
dangerous, though all held on. Sir John French had tested and found out
the German strength and the result was not encouraging.
Although this repulse of the British army at every point was a decided
victory for the German gunners, Field Marshal von Heeringen had been
impressed by two things: the courage of the British attacking army, and
the destructiveness of the French artillery on the south bank of the
river. The German commander withdrew all his men from the advanced
trenches on between the ridge and the river, keeping, however, strongly
intrenched detachments of riflemen at all commanding points with
powerful artillery as their support.
Sunday night was a veritable pandemonium of destruction and tumult. All
night long, without cessation, the batteries of both sides, knowing
exactly their opponents' range, fired perpetually. All night long
searchlight bombs were thrown. All night long, golden and red and yellow
streams of flame or the sudden jagged flash of an explosion lit up the
black smoke of burning buildings and fields in the valley, or showed the
white puff-like low clouds of the bursting shrapnel. Not for an instant
did the roar diminish, not for a second was the kindly veil of night
left unrent by a fissure of vengeful flame. Yet, all night long, as
ceaselessly as the great guns poured out their angry fury, so did men
pour out their indomitable will, and in that hell light of battle flame
engineers labored to construct bridges, small bodies of troops moved
forward to join their comrades in the trenches who had been able to
make a footing the day before, and all night long, those ghastly yet
merciful accompaniments of a battle field--the ambulance corps--carried
on their work of relief. The searchlights swept up and down the valley,
like great eyes that watched to give direction to the venom of war.
At three o'clock in the morning of Monday, September 14, 1914, two
regiments were sent to capture a sugar factory strongly held by the
enemy. That sugar factory became a maelstrom. Three more regiments had
to be brought up and finally the guards, and even thus heavily
overpowered, the Germans successfully defended it until noon. They sold
their lives dearly--those defenders. That sugar factory stood on that
Monday as did Hogoumont at Waterloo. It delayed the advance of the
entire First Corps, but at four o'clock in the afternoon, Sir Douglas
Haig ordered a general advance. The last afternoon and evening scored a
distinct success for the English arms, and when at last it grew
absolutely too dark to see, that corps held a position stretching from
Troton to La Cour de Soupir. Its chief importance, however, was that it
gave the Allies a strongly intrenched position on the plateau itself.
It was of this day's fighting that, almost a month later, Sir John
French was able to say in his official dispatches:
"The action of the First Corps on this day under the direction and
command of Sir Douglas Haig was of so skillful, bold, and decisive a
character that he gained positions which alone have enabled me to
maintain my position for more than three weeks of very severe fighting
on the north bank of the river."
The offensive of this entire movement was intrusted to the First Corps.
The artillery strength of the armies of General von Kluck and Von Buelow
was such that it was almost impossible for the Second and Third British
Army Corps to assail them by a charge up the bluff. But, meantime, the
French had not been idle. On September 13, 1914, General d'Esperey's
Fifth Army crossed the Aisne east of Bourg, and on the following day
commenced the assault on the Craonne plateau.
The next day, Tuesday, September 15, 1914, was a day of several small
victories for the Germans. General von Zwehl was hard hitter and a
quick hitter. Having disposed of his artillery where he thought it could
be of the most use, he aided Field Marshal von Heeringen with counsels
of counterattack, counsels that the Field Marshal fully indorsed. The
Sixth French Army under General Manoury, at the extreme west of the
line, was the chief point of attack. Though well placed on a strong
position at Nampcel, the Germans drove the French before them like
clouds before the wind, recaptured the spurs, forced the French backward
through the Morsain ravine and back to their original crossing place of
the Aisne between Viv and Fontenoy.
The Third Corps of the British suffered heavy loss of life without any
opportunity to retaliate, for it was too thoroughly and completely
dominated by the guns of Vregny.
The lull of Wednesday, September 16, 1914, was a foretaste of the
deadlock which was gradually forming. The French Fifth Army had been
compelled to abandon all idea of a direct attack upon the Craonne
plateau, the natural position being far too strong. The Second and Third
Corps of the British army could do nothing. Sir John French, though
eager to push the advantage, secured by his position on the heights, was
well aware that such a move was not possible unless the entire French
line was ready to cooperate with him, for, if he tried to drive down
upon the ridge of the Aisne, or, for that matter, tried to flank it, the
line of the Duke of Wuerttemberg would bend back upon him and nip him in
a way which would render escape difficult.
A sudden recrudescence of activity on the western front gave rise to the
hope that the deadlock might yet be avoided, that the two great armies
might come to handgrips again. Bolstered up by reenforcements, General
Manoury checked the German attack and regained all the ground that had
been lost. Concentrating on the need of driving the invaders out of the
quarries of Autreches, the French succeeded. This eased the western end
of the line, and the Second and Third British Army Corps were left in
peace.
Friday, September 18, 1914, is again a date of moment, not because
anything of importance was transacted, but because nothing was
transacted. It was a day of realizations. It was a day that convinced
the Allies that the German positions could not be broken down by frontal
attack, just as the battles of the Marne had convinced the Germans that
the road to Paris was not yet open. The six days from September 12 to 18
had revealed beyond preadventure that the German line along the ridge of
the Aisne was not merely a convenient halting place for a rear-guard
action, but that it was formed of lines of strong fortifications, almost
impregnable and absolutely beyond the hope of storming. The forces were
too evenly balanced for any concerted action to produce a desired
effect, the possession of air scouts eliminated any question of a
surprise. In other words, the conclusion was borne in upon the Allies
with full force that, much as the German plan had failed at Marne, so
had the Allies' plan failed at Aisne. The crossing of the Aisne, the
winning of the heights by Sir Douglas Haig were victories--not only
that, but they were full of that glory which goes with successful
daring--yet they led nowhere. The plan of the Allies must be abandoned
and a new one formed. This decision of a change of strategical plan,
then, closed the Allies' frontal attack upon the position of the Central
Powers on the ridge of the Maise, and marks the end of the first phase
of the battle of the Aisne.