that memory dwells upon changed the Vaudricourt woods into an undying
picture for those who saw it. One of the men stretched out his arm
and placed a lighted candle on a branch just over his head, and as
though this simple act appealed to the memories and imaginations of his
comrades, in a moment the pine woods of Vaudricourt became transformed
into a forest of Christmas trees. One after another the tiny flames
appeared, and burned like a hundred little glittering shrines. God
knows what memories of childhood and things that were far enough away
from war it recalled to the hearts of these men.
Yet the memory of the clouded night, the whisper of the wind in the
trees, and the woods of Vaudricourt, bright with the soldiers' candles,
comes like a gleam across the vast darkness and lights again the faces
of the war-worn battalion once more on its way to the fighting line.
* * * * *
On September 24th the Munsters took up their position close to La
Routoire Farm. Beyond these trenches the Germans occupied a long,
sweeping ridge of down land; a space of quiet scenery spread out to
the horizon like a calm sea. On the German side were Auchy, Hulloch,
and Loos, and on the British Cambrin, Vermelle, Philosophe, and
Mazingarbe, and between them the desolate ground from which living
things are fenced and barred out. The trenches divided the two main
roads at right angles, and the Hulloch road played an important part
in subsequent operations. Here and there over the grass, piles of slag
stood out like stubborn towers, black and desolate as some minor,
haunting fragment of an evil dream. They masked the mines, and were
treacherous, cruel defences on a poor, wasted land.
The weather was gloriously fine, and under the heavy bombardment of
the British guns the whole sky-line seemed to be in eruption. Huge
masses of chalk-dust and smoke lifted hundreds of feet into the air,
and rolled slowly away like a drowsy cloud trailing near the ground and
reluctant to depart from this "best of all possible worlds."
[Illustration: MAJOR J. W. CONSIDINE
2nd Royal Munster Fusiliers, killed while leading the Battalion at
Hulloch, September 25th, 1915
Record of Service:--Left Sandhurst in April, 1902. Mohmand Expedition,
1908. King's Medal and clasp. France, April 11th, 1915. Took temporary
command of the 2nd Battalion, May 10th.]
[_To face p. 49._]
In the grey light of the morning of September 25th the British guns
opened a furious fire, joined by the rattle of rifle and machine guns.
Without fuss or disorder the Munsters awaited the moment when they
should face a pouring stream of bullets and charge into the teeth of
the storm.
Led by Major Considine, the Munsters pushed up the winding trenches to
the front line, exchanging a word or two as they went, and relying, as
all men do in time of crisis, upon those unexplained resources that
stand for all that is best in a soldier. When they reached the front
line the leading company was blocked, for the trenches were full of
men, with their faces coloured an ashen blue and the buttons and badges
on their coats turned green. Some were dead and others unconscious, for
they were the helpless victims of gas fumes.
When the Munsters charged over the parapet the Hulloch road was alive
with troops racing towards the German trenches, but to the front all
was quiet, and a number of khaki figures in blue gas helmets lay
very still out over the grass towards the German lines, having so
encountered that "last and greatest of all fine sights" in the cold
dimness of half oblivion.
The fire from the enemy's guns increased as the Munsters advanced with
a yell, and the wire ahead of them was apparently unbroken.
Leading "A" Company, Major Considine fell in the advance, and as
he sank down Sergeant-major Jim Leahy rushed forward to carry him
into safety. He, too, was hit through the heart by a German bullet,
and when he fell the advancing Munsters cheered him as they raced
ahead, carrying with them the memory of the two men who had fallen
so gallantly, into their fierce charge. Both Major Considine and
Sergeant-major Leahy are buried on the battlefield almost where they
fell, 800 yards west of Vermelles.
Up the long-deserted, grass-grown Hulloch road six batteries came at a
gallop, wheeling boldly across the open under heavy fire, the Munsters,
in conjunction with the brigade, following at a run. Great volcanoes of
black smoke shot up immediately as the bombers worked down the German
trenches. Lieutenant Denis Conran with six of his company occupied a
support trench crowded with German troops, and for forty-eight hours
held this small salient of the advance, waging a steady war with
unwavering determination and grit. The enemy were all around this
small handful, and from where they fought they could see the village
of Hulloch being knocked to pieces like a card-house, and again on the
right the shell-torn havoc of the advance to Loos, the chalk pit, and
Hill 70. The larger stride had been taken at last, and the men in their
gas helmets with their five days' growth of beard looked strange and
almost Oriental as they advanced, receded, and again advanced as the
deadly conflict rolled onwards.
Towards evening the weather turned bitterly cold and heavy rain began
to fall. The smell of poison gas, shell fumes, and blood became almost
overpowering. Among the torn bodies the flotsam of war lay unheeded in
the mud. Innumerable blankets, rifles, caps, belts, and bloodstained
dressings told that a memory was all that was left to many of those who
had been alive and glad a few hours before, and everywhere there were
dead, dying, and wounded men, and all the helpless misery of battle.
The troops charged again, and the remnants of the Munsters raised
another cheer and rallied for the last rush, and then the strain ended
as you may see men pulled suddenly over at a tug-of-war. Four columns
of German soldiers filed out of the trenches, holding their hands above
their heads.
The road from Loos to Hulloch was clear at a cost of 1,000,000 shells
and 50,000 men. A right of way was established at a price that no one
can ever tell, since broken lives and hearts are not entered into any
known roll of honour, and this right of way was made good by the simple
valour and indomitable constancy of the ordinary man.
For them there is no return, for those who waited for them no
more reason to cross the days off the calendar; stillness has
intervened--the stillness that marks the passing of the mortal to
immortality. Tears are useless, broken hearts useless; life will not
alter because of these things. The days go on, and we with them; those
who have gone have "bought eternity with a little hour, and are not
dead."
And the road is now clear from Loos to Hulloch.
THE STAND AT ETREUX
BEING AN ACCOUNT WRITTEN BY AN OFFICER
OF THE R.M.F., PRISONER OF WAR
MAINTZ-AM-RHEIN, GERMANY,
_July 16th, 1915_.
I send now, by special permission, the full account of the engagement
of August 27th, 1914.
The night of the 26th the Battalion bivouacked at Fesmy with B Company
(Captain Simms commanding) on outpost duty at Chapeau Rouge (Sketch A).
At 4 a.m. on the 27th D Company (Captain Jervis commanding) was sent up
as a reinforcement. The rôle allotted to the Battalion was rear guard
to the retiring 1st Army Corps, with the remainder of the Brigade in
support. Our general direction was Guise, and we were on the right
of the Expeditionary Force, the French having occupied Bergues on our
right on the 26th. At 8 a.m. on the 27th, our scouts having reported
the village of Bergues evacuated, Major Charrier sent Captain Woods
with A Company to occupy it. About two hours later the enemy attacked
us here sharply, and on receiving this information, the Commanding
Officer sent a troop of the 15th Hussars (placed together with 1
section 118 Battery R.F.A., under him for the day) as a reinforcement;
at the same time he sent one platoon of A Company (Captain Rawlinson
commanding) to assist his withdrawal from the East end of Fesmy.
[Illustration: SKETCH A]
With the exception of a portion of this platoon under Captain Emerson,
which succeeded in joining up and withdrawing with Captain Woods, the
remainder of the Battalion rejoined Battalion Headquarters later in the
morning. The enemy was now appearing in small numbers North of Chapeau
Rouge, and North-east of Fesmy. From the cross roads at Chapeau Rouge
a good view of the surrounding country was obtainable, which was of
a very enclosed nature, the hedges being thick and high. By 11 a.m.
B and D Companies were strongly entrenched, and a brisk action began
near Fesmy, and we were soon busy with rifles, machine guns, and our
two 18-pounders. The enemy seemed to be advancing mainly from the
North-east and rapidly approaching the village. An enemy's aeroplane
passed over the position shortly before noon, our effort to bring it
down meeting with no success. A few minutes later the rain came down in
torrents, and under cover of it the enemy collected to attack Chapeau
Rouge. This attack commenced at 1 p.m., and having carried out our
object of delaying the enemy, the two Companies engaged withdrew on
Fesmy without loss, and having arrived there took up their position in
support of the remainder of the Battalion, which had been hotly engaged
some time. The two guns were firing rapidly. Lieutenant Chute with his
machine guns was having, as he expressed it, "the time of his life." A
civilian might be pardoned for questioning whether lying full length in
6 inches of muddy water under heavy fire warranted the description.
However, he undoubtedly had some excellent targets and did remarkably
well, and ammunition was not spared. Some of the enemy penetrated the
village, a very dashing young German officer at their head; he fell
wounded, and some prisoners were taken.
At 2.30 p.m. the withdrawal recommenced, D Company as left flank guard,
and the movement across the country was very difficult and slow, gaps
having to be hacked in the hedges as the Battalion fell back.
We were all quite pleased with the result of our first brush with the
enemy, which cost only six or eight wounded. B Company was detailed
as right flank guard and occupied a group of farm buildings some
1,500 yards from Fesmy. We thought our troubles over for the day, but
Major Charrier, who took no chances, issued careful orders for the
continuation of our withdrawal, B Company in advance and C Company
rearguard. We passed through Oisy, fired at by a few Cavalry, C Company
remained behind to hold the village of Oisy while we "made good"
the rise to the South. We were hardly clear when the enemy attacked
again, Captain Rawlinson holding the East and Lieutenant Awdry the
Northern exits. Our two guns and two Maxims replied vigorously, and
the cross-fire which resulted must have been pretty damaging. Offers
of assistance were refused, and C Company withdrew successfully and
proceeded to rejoin. Before they could do this a heavy fire from rifle
and Maxim guns was opened on us from East and South, and it became
obvious that we were cut off. Our guns galloped South for the purpose
of coming into action; as they passed a house a shell crashed into them
and a second struck the team, knocking out three or four gunners and
two horses; the remainder dismounted, and in the face of a murderous
fire brought their guns into action. In addition to the artillery and
rifle fire from the East, a raking rifle fire took us in flank from the
environs of Etreux, and it was this position the Commanding Officer
decided to attack. Lieutenant O'Malley was sent to C Company to direct
them to keep the road clear as Lieutenant Chute was to open fire with
his machine guns at the enemy advancing from North. Lieutenant O'Malley
bicycled back under heavy fire, and a couple of ammunition carts came
up to us at a gallop before the horses were shot, indeed a gallant feat.
[Illustration: SKETCH B]
B Company, with half A Company in support, shook out to attack. The
enemy was located in a loopholed house on the West side of the road
(see Sketch B), and also in the near fields. On the other side of the
road a farmhouse had caught fire and blazed furiously. The Commanding
Officer, Captain Wise, and Lieutenant Mosely succeeded in approaching
to within fifty yards of this house, creeping along a ditch followed
by their men. The enemy's fire was intense, and though Captain
Wise succeeded in reaching the house, the whole party was put out of
action. Major Charrier renewed the attack, and again later made a third
attack, with his usual determination, but was shot dead at close range
in the last charge. B Company was heavily engaged from both sides of
the road, and Captain Simms was killed gallantly leading the attack.
C Company reinforced this position, and D Company, which was in the
orchard East, converged into the open and was met by a flank attack
from the enemy holding the cutting. Aided by the fire of a platoon of
A Company, D Company advanced by alternate rushes to within 70 yards
of the hedge, where the officer in command (Captain Jervis) ordered a
charge. The men sprang up with a cheer, fixed bayonets and charged.
The enemy's fire redoubled, and Lieutenant Phayre fell, shot through
the heart. Man after man went down, and only Captain Jervis reached
the hedge alive, subsequently falling into the enemy's hands. The
remnants of the Battalion fell back to the orchard where Captain Hall
was wounded. Lieutenant Gower organised a defence facing N.S.E. and
West. The ammunition was exhausted and most of the gunners killed,
Major Bayley wounded. The enemy had entirely surrounded the Battalion,
but, encouraged by the few remaining officers, the men fought on until
9 p.m. Sounds of approaching help were listened for in vain, and the
Battalion, reduced to 4 officers and 256 N.C.O.'s and men, surrendered.
The Battalion was engaged against 7 Battalions German Infantry, 3
Batteries, Cavalry and many Maxim guns.
[Illustration: OFFICERS OF THE 2ND BATTALION ROYAL MUNSTER FUSILIERS,
MAY 1915
For names see Appendix, page 111]
[_To face p. 66._]
APPENDIX
LETTER FROM CAPTAIN H. S. JERVIS, 29TH
AUGUST, 1914, TO MRS. CHARRIER
_France, August 29th, 1914._
MY DEAR MRS. CHARRIER,
It is inexpressibly painful to me to have to write to you to tell you
that the Major, our splendid Commanding Officer, fell in action the day
before yesterday, while leading his regiment most gallantly against
overwhelming odds.
The regiment was left behind, and for several hours fell back fighting
under the personal direction of your husband, who, although well aware
of the impossible nature of his task, issued his orders and made
all arrangements with the precision which made him so well known in
Aldershot.
Eventually the Germans worked round to the rear and cut us off
completely, the key of their position being a loopholed house. The
Major personally led two charges in a magnificent attempt to capture
this. In the first of these he was wounded, but insisted upon still
retaining command and cheering us on. Shortly afterwards he was wounded
again, but even this did not keep him from what he considered his
duty. He heroically continued the direction of the action till after
sunset--six hours intermittent fighting.
Mr. Gower came up to make a report to him and found him near one of
our guns which had been put out of action. In reply to Mr. Gower he
said, "All right, we will line the hedge; follow me." Still leading and
setting an example to all, he was shot a third time, and mortally. He
fell in the road.
Yesterday we sent out a party of our men to collect and bury the dead,
and they found Paul Charrier lying as he had fallen, head towards the
enemy. The Sergeant told me he looked as if he was asleep. They buried
him, with eight other officers of the regiment who were killed, in a
grave separate from the men.
I personally received orders and made reports to him during the entire
day, and never for an instant did he lead me to suspect that he was in
any way worried as to our eventual safety.
The action, involving as it did the loss of an entire battalion,
killed, wounded, and prisoners, may be looked on by some as a disaster,
and the highest praise that I can think attainable by a commanding
officer was his, in that in spite of this he retained the entire trust
and confidence of all ranks to the last.
The nearest village to the action is Etreux, I think.
All his personal trinkets were buried with him. His heavier kit was on
the ---- regimental transport. I believe this got away.
Six of us, officers, are prisoners here, and 500 men of the battalion,
many of whom are wounded. My brother officers and the N.C.O.'s and men
of the battalion ask me to tender to you and your family our deepest
sympathy in your irreparable loss, which will be felt throughout the
Division, but most of all in the old regiment.
Believe me, etc.,
Yours very sincerely,
H. S. JERVIS.
LETTER FROM CAPTAIN JERVIS, 2ND BATTALION ROYAL MUNSTER FUSILIERS, TO
THE FATHER OF LIEUTENANT CAROL AWDRY, WHO WAS KILLED AT ETREUX, 27TH
AUGUST, 1914
As the senior of the surviving officers of the action fought by the
regiment on August 27th, it is my sad duty to have to write and inform
you that your boy lost his life that day while leading his men against
overwhelming odds. The Army was, at the time, withdrawing, and the
battalion was occupying an important position covering the movement.
In order the better to safeguard the retreat of the remainder, our
withdrawal was delayed by some hours. We were attacked on three sides,
and when we moved off finally it was found that the greatly superior
forces of the Germans had enabled them to cut us off from our main
body. Faced by odds of six or eight to one, we put up the best fight
we could until compelled by fire from all sides to surrender. E
Company--to which your son belonged, of course--was chosen to watch
our right rear (on the N.E.) as the battalion withdrew to the South,
and Captain Rawlinson selected your son to take his platoon out to an
exposed position, the far end of a village named Fesmy, through which
our line of retreat lay.
He performed the duty in a most able manner, and although harassed
with a nasty fire, he held on until the battalion withdrew, and
then rejoined with his little force intact. It was a commendable
performance, worthy of one of far greater age and experience than your
son. His Company then continued the withdrawal until we came to the
next village (Oisy), when it was detailed to act as rearguard. Again
they were sharply engaged, by largely increased forces this time, but
they gallantly held their own, your son again holding a detached
position at important cross-roads, and again the battalion was able
to withdraw in safety. Your boy's party was the last to come in, and
though he lost a few men he saved many more. It was now six o'clock
(p.m.), and it was then discovered that they were cut off from the
main body. The battalion shook out to the attack in an endeavour to
break through, every officer doing good work, your son no less than
the others. With sword drawn, he led his men in support of the attack,
which was in progress in front (to the South), and as he advanced he
fell, shot through the lungs. His death was painless and practically
instantaneous. He was buried with his eight brother officers, who fell
the same day, in one grave.
LETTER FROM CAPTAIN JERVIS, 2ND BATTALION ROYAL MUNSTER FUSILIERS, TO
MRS. C. T. F. CHUTE
The regiment was left in a somewhat exposed position, and the orders
for a withdrawal seem to have gone astray. Chuty, with his guns, which
he handled during the day with really wonderful skill, covered the
withdrawal of my company at mid-day. It was pouring with rain, and
with entire disregard to personal comfort, characteristic of him, he
lay down in six inches of water to manipulate his guns the better. The
Germans were crossing the front, and he never neglected an opportunity
of delaying their advance. He withdrew them from one position to
another, all day forming an invaluable escort to the two field guns we
had attached to us.
The withdrawal continued through a village, at about 5.30 p.m., and
at the other side of it he came into action again, firing right down
the road, on both edges of which Captain Rawlinson's company was
withdrawing. Owing to the help of your husband's guns the company
got safely through and rejoined the battalion. The enemy was now on
three sides of us, and their artillery opened fire. Chuty brought his
machine guns back at the gallop along the road under a positive hail
of lead. It was a splendid feat and was successfully accomplished, and
once again the guns were placed in position. We were now completely
surrounded, and your husband tried to cross the road to try and find a
target to aim at. As he crossed he was shot in the right side and thigh
and fell dead.
Up to the last he was cheery and full of spirits as ever; in fact, he
was the life and soul of the mess. It is impossible to realise that
we'll never hear his voice again. He will leave a large gap, not only
in the regiment, but in each and all of his brother officers' hearts.
It may be some small consolation to you to know that before the action
he was looked upon as the best machine-gun officer of the Brigade, and
his work during the day only served to confirm this view. Yesterday,
the 28th, the Germans allowed us to send out a burial party of our
own men, and they found Chuty, and buried him, with the eight other
officers of the regiment who were killed, in a grave separate from the
men. He was buried with all his personal effects on him. His heavier
kit is with the regimental transport, the only part of the regiment to
escape.
May I, on behalf of the surviving officers and men of the regiment, now
prisoners in German hands, tender our most sincere sympathy for a loss
which we know only too well is one which can never be replaced.
EXTRACT FROM A LETTER FROM LIEUTENANT THOMAS WRITTEN TO HIS MOTHER
I landed at Havre on 12th August, and we stayed in camp two days.
After that we came a long way by train to Le Nouvion, and marched to
a little place called Boué, where we went into billets. I stayed in a
lovely old farm house, and the people were awfully good to me and fed
me on the best of everything. Well, then we were marched right up to
Belgium in two days--about fifty miles, to a place called Grand Rong,
and the second day thirty-two miles; the next day we fought a small
battle just on the frontier, without any losses, and returned right
away back to Fesing, just near where we started all the machinery; then
the real fighting started. The first I knew of it was being roused at
3 a.m. by an orderly from Headquarters, to proceed with my platoon to
reinforce another Company on outpost who were being attacked; there we
fought for two days, and just as we thought all was over we found we
were surrounded, and a desperate battle began. I could not describe
the horrors of it on paper, but we were three-fourths of a Battalion
fighting six German Battalions, without any chance of relief, and I
think we really did our best. We had a section of artillery and two
machine-guns with us, which helped a lot, but they were very soon
knocked out. Our Colonel[1] was a wonder to see. He had absolutely no
fear, and I followed him and helped him all I could in every charge,
but he was blown to pieces in the end by a shell. We had, I think, ten
officers killed and five wounded, and the remainder prisoners. I was
wounded in two places--a bullet right through my throat and all the
biceps of my left arm blown away by a piece of shell. My throat, of
course, is bad and very troublesome. They put in a tube so as to allow
me to breathe, and I can eat and drink, but I can't speak. All the
officers were sent off to Germany yesterday, and the men who were able
to travel, so I am alone among the Germans, except for three men, who
are very bad. This town is about the size of Bandon, and is just one
big hospital; every house is full of wounded, and flies, and the smells
are awful. Well, although we were beaten, I believe we gave as good
as we got. We killed and wounded a great many Germans, and they say
themselves that we made a gallant fight of it. When I come home I will
be able to tell you some strange tales, but I can't write it all. Our
fellows who were in the South African War say it was child's play to
this, and there never was a battle as fierce as the one we were knocked
out in.
SIR A. CONAN DOYLE AND THE BATTLE OF MONS
In March 1915 Sir A. Conan Doyle gave an address on "The Great Battles
of the War," in the Usher Hall, Edinburgh, to a vast and enthusiastic
assemblage. The following extract from the _Scotsman_ of the next
morning refers to the Munsters:--