to the left and right of the road were burning fiercely; we soon got to
know that they had been set alight because soldiers marching past were
said to have been shot at from those houses. Before one of these houses
a man and his wife and their son, a boy of 15 or 16, lay half burnt to
cinders; all had been covered with straw. Three more civilians lay dead
in the same street.
We had marched past some more houses when all at once shots rang out;
they had been shooting from some house, and four of our soldiers had
been wounded. For a short while there was confusion. The house from
which the shots must have come was soon surrounded, and hand grenades
were thrown through all the windows into the interior. In an instant all
the rooms were in flames. The exploding hand grenades caused such an
enormous air pressure that all the doors were blown from their hinges
and the inner walls torn to shreds. Almost at the same time, five men in
civilian clothes rushed into the street and asked for quarter with
uplifted hands. They were seized immediately and taken to the officers,
who formed themselves into a tribunal within a few minutes. Ten minutes
later sentence had already been executed; five strong men lay on the
ground, blindfolded and their bodies riddled by bullets.
Six of us had in each of the five cases to execute the sentence, and
unfortunately I, too, belonged to those thirty men. The condemned man
whom my party of six had to shoot was a tall, lean man, about forty
years of age. He did not wince for a moment when they blindfolded him.
In a garden of a house nearby he was placed with his back against the
house, and after our captain had told us that it was our duty to aim
well so as to end the tragedy quickly, we took up our position six paces
from the condemned one. The sergeant commanding us had told us before to
shoot the condemned man through the chest. We then formed two lines, one
behind the other. The command was given to load and secure, and we
pushed five cartridges into the rifle. Then the command rang out, "Get
ready!" The first line knelt, the second stood up. We held our rifles in
such a position that the barrel pointed in front of us whilst the
butt-end rested somewhere near the hip. At the command, "Aim!" we slowly
brought our rifles into shooting position, grasped them firmly, pressed
the plate of the butt-end against the shoulder and, with our cheek on
the butt-end, we clung convulsively to the neck of the rifle. Our right
forefinger was on the trigger, the sergeant gave us about half a minute
for aiming before commanding, "Fire!"
Even to-day I cannot say whether our victim fell dead on the spot or
how many of the six bullets hit him. I ran about all day long like a
drunken man, and reproached myself most bitterly with having played the
executioner. For a long time I avoided speaking about it with
fellow-soldiers, for I felt guilty. And yet--what else could we soldiers
do but obey the order?
Already in the preceding night there had been encounters at Bertrix
between the German military and the population. Houses were burning in
every part of the town. In the market place there was a great heap of
guns and revolvers of all makes. At the clergyman's house they had found
a French machine-gun and ammunition, whereupon the clergyman and his
female cook had been arrested and, I suppose, placed immediately before
a court-martial.
Under those conditions we were very glad to get out of Bertrix again. We
marched on in the afternoon. After a march of some 3 miles we halted,
and received food from the field kitchen. But this time we felt no
appetite. The recollection of the incidents of the morning made all of
us feel so depressed that the meal turned out a real funeral repast.
Silently we set in motion again, and camped in the open in the evening,
as we were too tired to erect tents.
It was there that all discipline went to pieces for the first time. The
officers' orders to put up tents were not heeded in the slightest
degree. The men were dog-tired, and suffered the officers to command and
chatter as much as they liked. Every one wrapped himself up in his
cloak, lay down where he was, and as soon as one had laid down one was
asleep. The officers ran about like mad shouting with redoubled energy
their commands at the exhausted soldiers; in vain. The officers, of
course had gone through the whole performance on horseback and,
apparently, did not feel sufficiently tired to go to sleep. When their
calling and shouting had no effect they had to recourse to personal
physical exertion and began to shake us up. But as soon as one of us was
awake the one before had gone to sleep again. Thus for a while we heard
the exhortation, "I say, you! Get up! Fall in line for putting up
tents!" Whereupon one turned contentedly on the other side and snoozed
on. They tried to shake me awake, too, but after having sent some
vigorous curses after the lieutenant--there was no lack of cursing on
either side that evening--I continued to sleep the sleep of the just.
For the first time blind discipline had failed. The human body was so
exhausted that it was simply unable to play any longer the rôle of the
obedient dog.
IV
GERMAN SOLDIERS AND BELGIAN CIVILIANS
The march had made us very warm, and the night was cold. We shivered all
over, and one after the other had to rise in order to warm himself by
moving about. There was no straw to be had, and our thin cloaks offered
but little protection. The officers slept in sleeping bags and woolen
blankets.
Gradually all had got up, for the dew had wetted our clothing; things
were very uncomfortable. The men stood about in groups and criticized
the incidents of the preceding day. The great majority were of the
opinion that we should tell the officers distinctly that in future it
would not be so easy for them to work their deeds of oppression. One of
the older reservists proposed that we should simply refuse in future to
execute a command to shoot a condemned man; he thought that if all of us
clung together nothing could happen to us. However, we begged him to be
careful, for if such expressions were reported they would shoot him for
sedition without much ado. Nevertheless all of us were probably agreed
that the reservist had spoken exactly what was in our minds. The bitter
feeling was general, but we would not and could not commit any imprudent
action. We had learned enough in those few days of the war to know that
war brutalizes and that brutal force can no longer distinguish right
from wrong; and with that force we had to reckon.
Meanwhile the time had come to march on. Before that we had to drink
our coffee and arrange our baggage. When we were ready to march the
captain gave us a speech in which he referred to the insubordination of
the night before. "I take it," he said, "that it was the result of your
stupidity. For if I were not convinced of that I should send you all
before a court-martial, and all of you would be made unhappy for the
rest of your lives. But in future," he continued after a short
reflection, "I will draw the reins so tightly that incidents like these
can never happen again, and the devil must be in it if I can not master
you. An order is an order, even if one imagines himself too tired."
We joined the mortar battery again, and continued our march. The country
we were passing was rather dreary and monotonous so that that part of
our march offered few interesting changes. The few tiny villages we came
through were all abandoned by their inhabitants, and the
poverty-stricken dwellings were mostly devastated. However, we met long
lines of refugees. These people had as a rule fled with the French army,
and were returning now, only to find their homes destroyed by the brutal
hand of war. After a lengthy march broken by rests and bivouacs we
neared the fairly large village of Sugny on the Belgo-French frontier
just inside Belgian territory.
It was about noon, and though the steadily increasing thunder of guns
pointed to the development of another battle, we hoped to be able to
stay at the place during the night. We entered it towards one o'clock,
and were again quartered in a large barn. Most of the soldiers refused
the food from the field-kitchen, and "requisitioned" eggs, chicken,
geese, and even small pigs, and soon general cooking was in full swing.
Everywhere the pots were steaming. Unfortunately most had taken the
animals and foodstuffs from the inhabitants without paying for them.
Several soldiers arrived with barrels and bottles of wine, which were at
once beheaded and emptied in spite of the warnings and admonitions of
the wiser amongst us. It naturally followed that several sergeants and
men were soon almost helplessly drunk. The proprietor of "our" barn had
three medium-sized pigs left. One of those intoxicated sergeants
attempted to kill one of the pigs with a blunt pocket-knife. He had
tormented the poor beast almost to death when some sober soldiers caught
him in the act. The animal was killed by a shot through the head, and
the sergeant had to go to sleep at once. But that was only one incident
of many, and not at all the worst one. The inhabitants of Sugny had to
suffer much from the drunkenness of our men. The open and secret
plundering of gardens, stables and houses was quite a common thing, and
as the soldiers were practically left to do what they pleased, no matter
what happened or how many complaints were made, matters could naturally
not improve.
The people of Sugny were to be pitied. First they had been plundered by
the flying French soldiers, the allies of the Belgians, who had taken
along with them everything they could get together in a hurry, and now
the Germans were acting in no better way.
In a family of seven we were told that the French had taken away all the
bread and meat. They had gone through all the cupboards and shelves, and
had even stolen the gold watches belonging to the daughters of the
house. These and similar tales we heard from several families of the
place, and what at first we did not think possible on our side we now
beheld with our own eyes--even our well-trained soldiers robbed,
pillaged, and stole. War makes no difference between friend and foe.
The roaring of the guns, which could be heard very distinctly, kept the
inhabitants in constant fear and excitement, so that we were finally
quite able to understand why those people prayed to God to be so kind as
to give victory to the Germans. An old inn-keeper explained to me in
fairly fluent German: "You see it is not that we are for Germany. Heaven
forbid! We are just Belgians and are so accustomed to it that we would
rather remain Belgians to the end of our lives. But if the Germans had
to retreat now, the French would come again and our village would again
become the scene of battle. The little left to us would then be a prey
to the flames. Therefore the Germans must win." And then he began
praying again.
That part of the country had twice harbored the French, and now we
Germans were there. That the population suffered from want and hunger
was not to be wondered at, and often we divided our rations with the
severely tried people. Myself and two mates had given our "iron ration"
(preserved meat and vegetables and a bag of biscuits) to a woman
"blessed" with eight children. At the call we could not show our "iron
one," so we each of us had to mount guard twice as a punishment for that
feeble proof of our charity. Our half-file leader, Lieutenant Spahn,
expressed the opinion that pity was idiocy, and if the woman had eight
children it was her own concern. Then he concluded literally with great
emphasis, "In war everybody is his own nearest neighbor, even if all
around us die in a ditch."
Another soldier got fourteen days' close confinement. He was on his way
with bread for a hungry poor family, and had in his arms six of those
little army loaves which he had begged from the soldiers. He was met by
that same Lieutenant Spahn who was in company of some sergeants. When
Spahn asked him where he was taking the bread the sapper replied that he
was on his way to a poor family that was really starving. The lieutenant
then ordered him to take the bread immediately to the company. Thereupon
he overwhelmed the soldier with all the "military" expressions he could
think of, like, "Are you mad?" "Donkey!" "Silly ass?" "Duffer!" "Idiot!"
etc. When the soldier showed nevertheless no sign of confusion, but
started to proceed on his way, the lieutenant roared out the order
again, whereupon the soldier turned round, threw the bread before the
feet of Lieutenant Spahn, and said quietly: "The duffers and idiots have
to shed their blood to preserve also your junker family from the misery
that has been brought upon this poor population."
That the sapper got only two weeks of close confinement for "unmannerly
conduct towards a superior" with aggravating circumstances, was a
wonder; he had indeed got off cheaply.
According to martial law he had to work off his punishment in the
following manner: When his company went to rest in the evening, or after
a fight or a march, the man had to report himself every day for two
weeks at the local or camp guard. While the company was resting and the
men could move about freely, he had to be in the guard room which he
could only leave to do his needs, and then only by permission of the
sergeant on guard, and in company of a soldier belonging to the guard.
He was not allowed to smoke or read or converse or speak, received his
rations from the guard, and had to stay in the guard-room until his
company marched off. Besides that he was tied to a tree or some other
object for fully two hours every day. He was fettered with ropes and had
to spend those two hours standing, even if he had marched 30 miles or
had risked his life in a fight for the same "Fatherland" that bound him
in fetters.
The resentment continued to grow and, in consequence of the many severe
punishments that were inflicted, had reached such a height that most
soldiers refused to fetter their comrades. I, too, refused, and when I
continued my refusals in spite of repeated orders I was likewise
condemned to two weeks of close confinement as an "entirely impenitent
sinner," for "not obeying an order given" and for "persistent
disobedience."
V
THE HORRORS OF STREET FIGHTING
We left Sugny the next morning, and an hour later we crossed the
Belgo-French frontier. Here, too, we had to give three cheers. The
frontier there runs through a wood, and on the other side of the wood we
placed the 21-cm. mortars in position.
Our troops were engaged with the rear-guard of the enemy near the French
village of Vivier-au-Court. We were brought in to reinforce them, and
after a five hours' fight the last opponents had retired as far as the
Meuse. Vivier-au-Court had hardly suffered at all when we occupied it
towards noon. Our company halted again here to wait for the mortar
battery.
Meanwhile we walked through the village to find some eatables. After
visiting several houses we came upon the family of a teacher. Father and
son were both soldiers; two daughters of about twenty and twenty-two
were alone with their mother. The mother was extremely shy, and all the
three women were crying when we entered the home. The eldest daughter
received us with great friendliness and, to our surprise, in faultless
German. We endeavored to pacify the women, begging them not to cry; we
assured them again and again that we would not harm them, and told them
all kinds of merry stories to turn their thoughts to other things.
One of my mates related that in a fight in the morning, we had lost
seven men and that several on our side had been wounded. That only
increased the women's excitement, a thing we really could not
understand. At last one of the girls, who had been the first one to
compose herself, explained to us why they were so much excited. The girl
had been at a boarding school at Charlottenburg (Germany) for more than
two years, and her brother, who worked in Berlin as a civil engineer,
had taken a holiday for three months after her graduation in order to
accompany his sister home. Both had liked living in Germany, it was only
the sudden outbreak of war that had prevented the young engineer from
returning to Berlin. He had to enter the French army, and belonged to
the same company in which his father was an officer of the reserve.
After a short interval the girl continued: "My father and brother were
here only this morning. They have fought against you. It may have been
one of their bullets which struck your comrades down. O, how terrible it
is! Now they are away--they who had only feelings of respect and
friendship for the Germans--and as long as the Germans are between them
and us we shall not be able to know whether they are dead or alive. Who
is it that has this terrible war, this barbaric crime on his
conscience?" Tears were choking her speech, and our own eyes did not
remain dry. All desire to eat had gone; after a silent pressing of hands
we slunk away.
We remained in the village till the evening, meanwhile moving about
freely. In the afternoon nine men of my company were arrested; it was
alleged against them that they had laid hands on a woman. They were
disarmed and kept at the local guard-house; the same thing happened to
some men of the infantry. Seven men of my company returned in the
evening; what became of the other two I have not been able to find out.
At that time a great tobacco famine reigned amongst us soldiers. I know
that one mark and more was paid for a single cigarette, if any could be
got at all. At Vivier-au-Court there was only one tobacco store run by a
man employed by the state. I have seen that man being forced by
sergeants at the point of the pistol to deliver his whole store of
tobacco for a worthless order of requisition. The "gentlemen" later on
sold that tobacco for half a mark a packet.
Towards the evening we marched off, and got the mortar battery in a new
position from where the enemy's positions on the Meuse were bombarded.
After a short march we engaged the French to the northeast of Donchéry.
On this side of the Meuse the enemy had only his rear-guard, whose task
was to cover the crossing of the main French armies, a movement which
was almost exclusively effected at Sédan and Donchéry. We stuck close to
the heels of our opponents, who did not retreat completely till darkness
began to fall. The few bridges left did not allow him to withdraw his
forces altogether as quickly as his interest demanded. Thus it came
about that an uncommonly murderous nocturnal street fight took place in
Donchéry which was burning at every corner. The French fought with
immense energy; an awful slaughter was the result. Man against man! That
"man against man" is the most terrible thing I have experienced in war.
Nobody can tell afterwards how many he has killed. You have gripped your
opponent, who is sometimes weaker, sometimes stronger than yourself. In
the light of the burning houses you observe that the white of his eyes
has turned red; his mouth is covered with a thick froth. With head
uncovered, with disheveled hair, the uniform unbuttoned and mostly
ragged, you stab, hew, scratch, bite and strike about you like a wild
animal. It means life or death. You fight for your life. No quarter is
given. You only hear the gasping, groaning, jerky breathing. You only
think of your own life, of death, of home. In feverish haste, as in a
whirlwind, old memories are rushing through your mind. Yet you get more
excited from minute to minute, for exhaustion tries to master you; but
that must not be--not now! And again the fight is renewed; again there
is hewing, stabbing, biting. Without rifle, without any weapon in a life
and death struggle. You or I. I? I?--Never! you! The exertion becomes
superhuman. Now a thrust, a vicious bite, and you are the victor. Victor
for the moment, for already the next man, who has just finished off one
of your mates, is upon you--. You suddenly remember that you have a
dagger about you. After a hasty fumbling you find it in the prescribed
place. A swift movement and the dagger buries itself deeply in the body
of the other man.
Onward! onward! new enemies are coming up, real enemies. How clearly the
thought suddenly flashes on you that that man is your enemy, that he is
seeking to take your life, that he bites, strikes, and scratches, tries
to force you down and plant his dagger in your heart. Again you use your
dagger. Thank heavens! He is down. Saved!--Still, you must have that
dagger back! You pull it out of his chest. A jet of warm blood rushes
out of the gaping wound and strikes your face. Human blood, warm human
blood! You shake yourself, horror strikes you for only a few seconds.
The next one approaches; again you have to defend your skin. Again and
again the mad murdering is repeated, all night long--
Finally, towards four o'clock in the morning, the rest of the French
surrendered after some companies of infantry had occupied two roads
leading to the bridges. When the French on the other side became aware
of this they blew up the bridges without considering their own troops
who were still on them. Germans and Frenchmen were tossed in the air,
men and human limbs were sent to the sky, friend and foe found a watery
grave in the Meuse.
One could now survey with some calm the scene of the mighty slaughter.
Dead lay upon dead, it was misery to behold them, and above and around
them all there were flames and a thick, choking smoke. But one was
already too brutalized to feel pity at the spectacle; the feeling of
humanity had been blown to all the winds. The groaning and crying, the
pleading of the wounded did not touch one. Some Catholic nuns were lying
dead before their convent. You saw it and passed on.
The only building that had escaped destruction was the barracks of the
25th regiment of French dragoons. However, we had not much time to
inspect things, for at seven o'clock the French artillery began already
sending shell after shell into the village. We intrenched behind a thick
garden wall, immediately behind the Meuse. Our side of the Meuse was
flat, the opposite one went up steeply. There the French infantry had
intrenched themselves, having built three positions on the slope, one
tier above the other. As the enemy's artillery overshot the mark we
remained outside their fire. We had however an opportunity to observe
the effects of the shots sent by our own artillery into the enemy's
infantry position on the slope in front of us. The shells (21-cm.
shells) whizzed above our heads and burst with a tremendous noise, each
time causing horrible devastation in the enemy's trenches.
The French were unable to resist long such a hail of shells. They
retreated and abandoned all the heights of the Meuse. They had evacuated
the town of Sédan without a struggle. In fact, that town remained
completely intact, in contrast to the completely demolished Donchéry.
Not a house in Sédan had suffered. When the rallying-call was sounded at
Donchéry it turned out that my company had lost thirty men in that
fight. We mustered behind the barracks of the dragoons, and our company,
which had shrunk to ninety men, was ordered to try and build a
pontoon-bridge across the Meuse at a place as yet unknown to us. Having
been reinforced by eighty men of the second company we marched away in
small groups so as not to draw the enemy's attention to us. After an
hour's march we halted in a small wood, about 200 yards away from the
Meuse, and were allowed to rest until darkness began to fall.