Thomson having been strongly repulsed in an attack on the
post at Kamina, was reinforced by a group of the Senegalese
Tirailleurs made up of a sergeant, two corporals, and
fourteen Blacks. From the beginning of the encounter at
eleven o'clock, the mixed detachment found itself exposed to
a lively fire from positions that were solidly established
and supported by mitrailleuses. After the artillery had
commenced firing Lieutenant Thomson, considering that the
preparation was sufficient, bravely led his troop on to the
attack. This courageous initiative failed under a severe
fire from fifty meters of German trenches. Lieutenant
Thomson fell mortally wounded. However, the Senegalese
Tirailleurs, faithful to that tradition which has already
proved its value in our colonial epic by such famous
exploits, refused to abandon the body of the unknown leader
their captain had given them and continued to hold their
position. When the fight was over and the enemy was in
flight, the bodies of the sergeant, the two corporals, and
of nine dead and four wounded Tirailleurs were found
stretched out alongside the English officer and an under
officer who was also English. In the very spot where they
were found, their tomb surrounds that of Lieutenant Thomson.
United in death, they still seem to watch over the strange
officer--unknown to them--for whom they sacrificed their
lives because their leader had given them orders to do so.
Of the German colonial empire, four times as big as the fatherland,
not a spot exists that is not in the hands of the Allies today.
England holds the greater part; Japan has Tsing-Tao; France a
considerable part of the African possessions.
Now let us look at the picture the French colonial empire offers.
In 1914 France ruled, in the north of Africa, over five and a half
millions of natives in Algiers, two millions in Tunis and four
millions in Morocco. When the war broke out there was not a single
German in Morocco who was not certain that the natives would rise in
revolt against France.
"Not a single Frenchman," wrote, in peace times, the correspondent of
the _Cologne Gazette_, "should escape alive." The German Government
was convinced of the fact that the revolt of the inhabitants and the
massacre of the French would be followed by an appeal of all the
Moroccans for the intervention of the Kaiser. But nothing of the sort
took place. In Algiers the most perfect calm continued to reign; in
Tunis there was a little trouble that was soon suppressed; in Morocco
there was a man, diplomat and soldier at the same time, who was able
to keep peace and hold the country firm to France. He was General
Lyautey.
During the early days of August, 1914, the question was raised whether
or not it would be necessary to abandon the outposts in the interior
of Morocco and withdraw toward the coast cities. General Lyautey
declared that he would abandon nothing and advised the French
Government to that effect. He sent troops, the famous Moroccan
regiments, the best fighting units there were in 1914, to the battle
fields of Flanders, receiving in exchange territorial divisions
recruited for the most part from the Midi. However, with these
territorial divisions General Lyautey assured the safety of all that
portion of the empire that was in his care; he finished the operations
he had commenced; he maintained French prestige and, some months later
on, he found means to open at Casablanca a Moroccan exposition which
showed the marvelous work that had been accomplished in that
country--French for a few years only.
The French colonies not only remained incomparably calm and peaceful
but they also made a marvelous effort in coming to the aid of the
mother country both with men and with their commerce.
M. Ernest Roume, Governor General of the Colonies, in charge at the
war's beginning of the government of Indo-China, sent to France more
than sixty thousand native soldiers and military workers in eighteen
months. They were recruited from the Asiatic possessions of France.
In Senegal, in Soudan and in Morocco men volunteered by hundreds of
thousands. Moroccans, Kabyles and blacks came to fight by the side of
the French troops on the Champagne and Lorraine fronts.
Besides, North Africa largely took care of the feeding of France.
In 1914 the cereal crop had been notably deficient in Algiers and
especially in Tunis. However, Algeria did not hesitate to give the
mother land all the grain she asked for; 50,000 quintals of wheat and
500,000 quintals of barley and oats were thus hastened to continental
France, and in addition, 40,000 quintals of wheat went to Corsica and
130,000 to Paris. In 1915 the colonies made an even better showing:
Algeria furnished France with 1,625,000 quintals of wheat, 918,000
quintals of barley, and 77,000 quintals of oats. In 1916 this figure
was passed and the total exports amounted to four million quintals of
grains. As for Morocco, it exported in 1914, 90,000 quintals of wheat
and 130,000 quintals of barley; in 1915 it exported 200,000 quintals
of wheat and a million quintals of barley; in 1916 it exported more
than two million quintals of grains. Add to that the 900,000 sheep
Algeria furnished for the French commissariat and more than 40,000
sheep furnished to the English commissariat to feed the Hindoo troops
stationed at Marseilles. Then add in the cattle exported from Algeria
and Morocco by the thousands, add for Algeria the wines and the
vegetables, and for Tunis the olive oil. In 1916 the confederation of
Algerian winegrowers gave the French poilus fifty thousand hectoliters
of wine.
Everywhere in the colonies buildings have been built, agriculture has
continued, public works have been constructed. In the midst of war
Algeria has opened up railroads; Tunis has opened the line from Sfax
to Gabès; Morocco the lines from Casablanca to Fez and from the
Algerian frontier to Taza.
General Lyautey said, "A workshop is worth a battalion in Morocco."
Workshops have been opened everywhere. There was never so much work
done. The colonial empire was never more prosperous, more active and
more glorious.
* * * * *
A nation that is worn out and bled white has passed the stage where it
can come to the aid of others. In her death agony, she has no more
than her own strength to last her during the last hours. France has
been able to come to the aid of the other Allies. She has lent them a
strong helping hand, she has been able to save them from total
extinction. French troops have fought and are still fighting on all
the battle fronts; in Italy, the Balkans, Palestine and Central
Africa. It is almost to France alone and to France especially that the
salvage of the remnant of the Serbian Army has been due.
We remember what happened in September, 1915. At the time when the
dual offensive was attempted in Artois and in Champagne, the German
Armies invaded Poland, Volhynia, Lithuania and Courland, delivered
Austrian Galicia and commenced to submerge Serbia beneath their
innumerable legions. Invaded by three armies, the German, Austrian
and Bulgarian, all of them amply supplied with heavy artillery and
asphixiating gas, poor little Serbia was doomed beforehand. But,
tenacious to the end, her heroic defenders preferred to leave their
country rather than submit to a hated yoke. Step by step the Serbians,
always facing the enemy, retreated to the sea. It was a terrible
tragedy. Their retreat will remain a matter of legend, like that of
the Ten Thousand under Xenophon. As they retreated, the Serbians
called, in their despair, for help.
Who went to Serbia's aid? It was not Russia, whose armies were quite
worn out. It was not England, who feared an attack on Egypt and who
was still fighting at the Dardanelles. It was not Italy, whose special
efforts were directed towards preventing the junction of Austria with
Greece, and who was satisfied with establishing herself at Valona and
thus driving a wedge between her two rivals on the Adriatic coast.
But France, France who is represented as worn out and bled white,
heard Serbia's call for help and decided to respond to it.
Supplies were first landed at San Giovanni di Medua and Antivari in
the smaller French boats. But it was soon evident that these supplies
would be insufficient and that the Serbs could not maintain their
positions in the Adriatic ports even with French help from the sea.
The complete evacuation of an entire army, piece by piece, had to be
undertaken. The transporting of entire Serbia beyond the seas, to
another country, had to be considered. Where were they to go? Where
were the thousands of worn out soldiers, of sick and wounded men, to
be transported?
Once again France answered. France held Tunis, France held Bizerta.
Tunis and Bizerta would shield temporarily the remains of Serbia. From
the end of November, 1915, the smaller French ships, torpedo boats,
trawlers and transports made the trip from Durazzo to San Giovanni di
Medua to embark the Serbian Army. Great steamers, such as the _Natal_,
_Sinai_, and _Arménie_, and a flotilla of armored cruisers followed
them. Thirteen thousand men were transported in this fashion.
But the situation grew worse. The Serbs along the seacoasts were
pressed harder and harder by the Austrians and by Albanian bands.
Besides, the transporting to Tunis was too slow when the progress of
the enemy was considered. Finally the appearance of typhus and cholera
rendered more dangerous the removal of the unfortunate troops to a
great distance. A new plan was arranged. The remaining Serbs were to
be transported not into Tunis, which was so far away, but to a land as
near as possible to the scene of disaster. Corfu was there; Corfu,
only sixty miles away from the farthest point of debarkation; Corfu,
whose climate was marvelously suited to the recovery of sick men;
Corfu which offered a very safe harbor. It was decided to occupy
Corfu, prepare the island, transport the entire Serbian Army thither
and assure that this army would be built up there. And France was
charged with carrying out this operation.
On the seventh of January, 1916, the first French organization of ten
trawlers set out from Malta to make a preliminary reconnoissance
around Corfu, to drag for mines and to clear out the submarines. A
second flotilla followed it forty-eight hours later. On the eighth of
January the armored cruisers _Edgar Quinet_, _Waldeck-Rousseau_,
_Ernest Renan_, _Jules Ferry_ and five torpedo boats, which were
located at Bizerta, received orders to embark a battalion of Alpine
chasseurs with their arms, baggage and mules and to take up their
positions to be ready at the first signal.
On the night of the tenth, the French consul at Corfu woke up the
Greek prefect in order to announce to him the imminent arrival of our
squadron and what it was going to do. After he had received the formal
protest of this functionary, he went down to the port, where there was
no longer any doubt in anyone's mind of what was going to happen. With
him went guides and automobiles to finish everything quickly before
the Germans could offer any opposition. Some minutes later, on time at
the rendezvous agreed upon, the French cruisers came into the harbor
and immediately disembarked their contingent of Alpine Chasseurs.
Before daybreak the principal vantage points as well as the most
important positions on the island were occupied. Suspected persons
were seized in their beds, a doubtful post of T. S. F. was seized
also. Corfu, which went to sleep half German, woke up entirely French
to the tune of the martial music that was to inform the inhabitants of
the little change that had taken place over night.
The question remained of _Achilleion_, the property of William of
Germany, which was about nine miles from the city. If _Achilleion_ had
been a French property and German soldiers had paid a visit, what
pillage, what defilement, what orgies there would have been!
But _Achilleion_ was a German property, and the French have a method
of procedure that is peculiarly their own. This is what happened,
according to the narrative of a young naval officer who was on the
spot:
At four o'clock in the morning an automobile set out from
the dock, carrying a squad of twelve marine fusilliers under
the command of one of the ship's lieutenants. A half hour
later he presented himself at the gate of the palace and
demanded that he be admitted. There was no response. He was
insistent. Finally a door opened and an angry voice cried out
in the darkness: "This isn't the time for visitors." For the
owner, who found that there are no such things as small
profits, permitted a visit for the sum of two francs per
person. Surprised, the occupant of the palace submitted, and
our detachment entered _Achilleion_, whose occupants it
assembled--the watchman and two red-haired chambermaids--_en
déshabillé_, also a mechanic and an entomologist who wore
spectacles. Pale with fear, the latter threw himself on his
knees before the officer. "If I must die, I ask that it may
be here," said he. He was left in peace. A company of the
Chasseurs arrived and the marines, with their lanterns in
their hands, went back to the ships. The Tricolor floated
over the Kaiser's villa, which was to become a hospital for
the Serbs.
* * * * *
At eleven o'clock in the morning it was all over, and the French
cruisers put out to sea on the return trip to Bizerta.
But the easiest thing had been done. The most difficult was about to
begin. It was not only a question of occupying Corfu; it was also a
matter of arranging to receive a worn-out and decimated army. It was a
difficult task that many would have judged out of the question.
Everything was lacking; there was nothing on hand.
A writer on naval matters, who has been the historian of the French
Navy in this war, M. Emile Vedel, has painted in the pages of
_Illustration_ an unheard-of and unique picture of what this
preparation of Corfu consisted:
It was nothing less than a question of improvising all means
that were necessary for disembarking; gangways, landing
stairs, roads to and from various points on the island where
the expected troops were to be concentrated; of uniting and
collecting together the numerous boats--large and
small--eighteen tugs (among them the _Marsouin_, _Rove_,
_Iskeul_, _Marseillais 14_, _Audacieux_, _Requin_),
twenty-seven smaller boats, nine barges, and a dozen
mahonnes and small craft of all sizes, without counting the
supply ships, floating tanks, unloading cranes and so
forth--which the rapid unloading and revictualing of the new
arrivals demanded; of isolating the sick who were infected
with typhus and cholera; in a word, of putting on their feet
the diverse offices that come under the heading of direction
of the port, all the machinery of which was yet to be
created. At the same time it was necessary to maintain and
repair the booms of the harbor, to test the channels, make
arrangements concerning piloting, anchorage, and new
supplies of water, provisions and coal for the always
hurried transports which arrived, unloaded and sailed away
at all hours of the day and night; constantly to clear out
and drag the waters near the island; establish observation
posts around it, station batteries in suitable positions,
and finally to protect the channels around Corfu and the
Albanian coast, in which the English aided us effectively by
sending a hundred drifters (a sort of little fishing boat
which we call "cordiers" at Boulogne), which, beating
against the wind under full sail, dragged a cable a thousand
meters long to snare submarines. Thanks to a pair of
floating docks, which were placed between the extreme end of
Corfu and the neighboring coast, a distance of but two or
three kilometers, our vessels were soon in position, in a
line thirty miles in length so that they could execute all
the movements necessary for the landing of the Serbs and
also have gun drill, launch torpedoes and sea planes, and
perform the rest of the maneuvers that are indispensable.
Furthermore, fresh water in sufficient quantities had to be
procured. For if the springs on the island could supply
eighty thousand inhabitants, they now had to triple their
output and give out a far greater supply to meet the demand
of one hundred and fifty thousand more mouths. Every bit of
flour had to come from outside, from Italy, France or
England since Corfu has very few resources and we did not
wish to encounter the hostility of a population to which it
was necessary for us to show firmness more than once. The
most recalcitrant were forced to give in, not without
ceasing to rob us very much in the dealings they had with
us. Oranges went up to ten francs a dozen, and small
shopkeepers realized fortunes by doing money changing at
fantastic rates.
And all that will furnish only a very incomplete idea of the
innumerable obligations the aquatic anthill, from an
industrial and military standpoint, which is called a naval
base, has to meet.
On the ninth of January, 1916, the situation of the Serbian Army was
precisely as follows: In the neighborhood of San Giovanni di Medua
there were twelve hundred officers, twenty-six thousand foot soldiers,
seven thousand horses and two thousand cattle; at Durazzo there were
thirty-six hundred officers, sixty-nine thousand soldiers, twenty
thousand horses and four thousand cattle; on the roads that led to
Valona some fifty thousand men including officers, two thousand horses
and three hundred cattle.
In these three principal groups were forty-one field pieces, the
glorious remainder of the Serbian artillery.
Add to that twenty-two thousand Austrian prisoners whom the Serbs
carried along with them in their exodus towards the coast and also the
pitiable troop of refugees, sick men, old men, women, children who,
desiring at any cost to escape slavery and servitude, followed the
retreating army.
The evacuation of this indomitable people was made at San Giovanni di
Medua. The soldiers were sent to Corfu. The civilians were sent to
Algiers and Tunis, the Austrian prisoners to Sardinia. But where were
the typhoid and the cholera patients to be transported? No one wanted
them; and in this stampede of a people, cholera and typhus had made
their appearance and spread with alarming rapidity. A certain number
of cholera patients had been taken to Brindisi; and everyone,
naturally, refused to take them in.
Since this was the case, a French trawler, the _Verdun_, commanded by
Lieutenant d'Aubarède, brought the sick to Corfu. And, as M. Emile
Vedel tells it, this was perhaps one of the most beautiful episodes of
our navy's activity, for there are few deaths as hideous as that to
which they exposed themselves in taking in their arms poor beings
touched with a malady essentially so contagious, and so dirty and
covered with vermin that they made everyone shudder. With precaution
and care that brothers do not always have for their own brothers,
these near-corpses were taken to Corfu, where doctors and nurses from
the French Navy saved some of them and made the end more easy for the
rest.
In twenty-two days everything was almost over. The troops at San
Giovanni and Valona and Durazzo had been evacuated, as had the
Austrian prisoners. All the money of the Serbian treasury had been
transported to Marseilles in the cruiser _Ernest Renan_. It amounted
to about eight hundred million francs.
However, on the twentieth of January, about two thousand men still
remained at San Giovanni di Medua. There were also a certain number of
field pieces. After so many men and guns had been saved, were these to
be abandoned? No. Everything must be saved. The last man must be saved
and the last gun must be saved, whatever may be the risk, the fatigue
and the hard work.
On the morning of the twentieth of January, Captain Cacqueray,
commanding the French naval forces, had two young naval officers of
the French fleet come aboard his ship, the _Marceau_, Ensigns
Couillaud and Augé, who commanded the little trawlers _Petrel_ and
_Marie-Rose_. He ordered them to return once more to San Giovanni and
bring back with them all they could.
"You must succeed and you will succeed," Captain Cacqueray said
simply.
Some few minutes later the two trawlers were out in the Adriatic,
headed for San Giovanni. Here we must quote Ensign Augé's words. He
commanded the _Marie-Rose_, and we must be satisfied with citing from
the eloquent brevity of the ship's log:
From the peaceful docks of Brindisi, we passed through the
winding channel of the outer port and then out of the
harbor, gliding between the buoys. Then the mine fields were
to be traversed, although the night was black and foggy. As
we approached the Albanian coast the wind freshened, and in
a veritable tempest, with hail and icy rain we entered the
Gulf of Drin, whose water is very turbid. More watchful than
ever, since submarines had been sighted in the neighborhood,
we finally arrived at Medua. Almost blocked off by the sand
bars, the little harbor was further encumbered by a dozen
wrecks, boats which the Austrians had sunk. The question was
where to pass through this mess, on the top of the water,
with masts and spars pointing every way. After having
rounded the line of mines and the _Brindisi_, an Italian
vessel that had struck a mine some days before, we made the
port. Ten houses and a wretched wharf on worm-eaten piling
at the end of a funnel of mountains with terrible rocks is
all there is of Medua.
An empty sailboat was moored to the end of the wharf, which
facilitated our operations. The _Petrel_, which was of
lighter draft than my boat, managed to get alongside and, by
vigorous efforts, we were able to join her. Ashore there
were soldiers in muddy clothes and worn-out shoes. The
gangway and the sailboat were soon filled by a chilly cold
wind, which tried to blow it offshore and which nothing
could restrain. It was impossible to locate any responsible
person and out of the question to make one's self
understood. Everyone thought only of escaping from that
Hell. Finally some Serbian officers came up who succeeded
somewhat in controlling their impatient troops. They made us
bring up the first cannon, which was pushed over the shaking
planks of the wharf. With great effort and by the use of
triple tackles the gun was got aboard the _Petrel_, and the
carriage and wheels on the _Marie-Rose_, whose hatch was
wider. The beginning was slow, but, after the second cannon,
the embarking went along smoothly.
There was not enough time. Everyone stamped in the mud. With
the completely washed out Serbian uniforms mixed the
brilliant colors of those of the Montenegrin guard. Seated
on a stone, King Nicholas sat stoically in the falling rain,
awaiting the arrival of the Italian torpedo boat that was
to place itself under his orders. Soldiers from the French
mission arrived and did police duty. The radio-operators
from the Italian post arrived and put their baggage on
board. An officer of the Serbian Army was there with all the
state archives. A crowd of people instinctively pressed
towards us and got mixed up with the soldiers who were
supposed to keep order. In spite of the tempest which
thwarted everything, we managed to embark eighteen .75 guns
and three 100 howitzers, as well as a hundred cases of
projectiles. The weather grew more dreadful, with hail
stones in the icy rain. Blows were necessary to prevent the
crowding aboard of that mob of people whom neither shouts
nor threats could stop. We allowed as many as possible to
embark--about a hundred on the _Petrel_ and twice as many
with us--Serbs, Montenegrins and Allies, of all classes and
conditions, and, despairingly we shoved off to stop the
crowd that remained. We were the last hope of these poor
people--there were about fifteen hundred of them, whose only
hope now was to face the frightful paths, marshes and
swollen rivers that separated them from Durazzo.