Along the Aisne the Germans made some absolutely desperate attempts
to break through our line, and they counted no sacrifice too great to
achieve their end. One day I saw a brigade of theirs caught in a deadly
trap. There was a gap in our lines between one of our brigades and the
nearest French force. The Germans made a sudden dash for that gap under
cover of their artillery, and, though they were exposed to a heavy
fire that cut deep lines through their ranks, they came steadily on.
They had nearly reached their goal when a sudden movement of British
reserves on the left brought a fierce attack on the Germans from the
rear. At the same time the Germans were fired on from our men and
the French on either flank. They had either to continue their forward
march, with the certainty of disaster, or turn and try to hew their way
out again through our reserves. They chose the latter course, and their
artillery tried to back them up in every possible way. Owing to the
disposition of forces it was a risky job to keep up artillery fire, and
soon the shells began to do as much damage among the Germans as to the
British or French. The Germans kept falling back under the double fire,
and at the same time great clouds of cavalry came moving out in support
of their retirement. The British force taking the Germans in the rear
was now in danger of being taken in the rear itself, but reinforcements
were hurried out, and our cavalry began the work of pressing back
the German cavalry advancing to the assistance of their trapped
infantry. Now the air was thick with fighting men, and the cries of
the combatants were deafening. The retreating Germans kept moving
steadily towards their oncoming cavalry, dropping men by the hundred as
they retreated, but just when they seemed to have reached their goal
our infantry were on them, and they were hurled against the French
position on the right. After this there was nothing for it but to cut
and run, and what looked to be one of the best brigades of the German
army was soon nothing more than a mass of panic-stricken men flying
in quest of a hiding-place from the fire by which they were assailed.
In their flight they cast aside arms and equipment or anything likely
to impede their rush. For half a mile in front of our position there
were piles of dead and dying to testify to the terrible execution done
by our artillery and rifle fire, and that repulse saw the end of the
German attempts to break through our line at that particular point: _A
Motor-Cyclist Dispatch-Rider_.