THE KAISER NOT A SUCCESSFUL GENERAL
The movements of the German troops were amazing. Some of the men we took
prisoners had been rushed up from Belgium, back again, sent into
Austria, and brought back to East Prussia; and all this in less than two
months. I mean that the entire corps, or divisions, to which these men
had belonged had been so shifted about. The Prussian Guards were smashed
up at Ypres by our splendid "British Grenadiers" (we soon learned this),
and then came and faced us, when they did not fare much better. Probably
it was the recruits who replaced the first lot who came to make the
acquaintance of the Russian bayonets. As to their Kaiser, he was
reported to be in a dozen places at one and the same time. He was
certainly at Soldau, or in its neighbourhood, during the last week of
September; but I did not learn the exact date of his arrival in the
East. Like most exalted potentates of his stamp--compounds of arrogance
and blasphemy--he seemed to have some fears for his personal safety, and
to be endeavouring to secure it by shrouding his movements in a certain
amount of mystery. By the shouting and hymn-singing, we knew he was at
Soldau on the 24th; but on the 27th we received definite information
that he was at Suvalki, which is thirteen versts over the German border
and in Russian territory. This was also the first intimation we had that
our forces had evacuated the Spirding See, the Lake region; and it was
not received as pleasant news, though anger rather than depression was
the prevailing passion amongst us. Reports, confirmed by the admission
of prisoners, stated that a quarter of a million men had been quietly
collected at Koenigsberg and were now being rapidly drafted into Poland.
Though the Kaiser was said to be in personal command of the new army, a
General von Hindenburg was mentioned as being the real director of its
movements. This was the first time we had heard of him.
At this period one of the gravest of Russia's mistakes was, in my
opinion, an undue attention to the Austrian section of the big
battle--for the fight really raged along the entire eastern and northern
frontiers of Germany and Austria. Troops were massed in front of the
Jaroslav-Lemberg line, who could have been more usefully employed in
forcing back the invaders in East Poland. But Russia has had her eyes on
Galicia for years, and, like a dog with a bone, has instincts for
nothing but her prey. She and her friends thought her huge masses would
swamp everything that attempted to oppose them. This has proved to be a
mistaken opinion, just as Germany's idea that rushed masses would carry
everything before them has turned out to be an error. In modern war huge
masses mean appalling death lists and vast numbers of prisoners. An army
such as even Napoleon hardly ever saw is now imprisoned in Russia; and
another, scarcely inferior to it in numbers, is interned in Germany. Men
deployed may fall back and escape; a mass of columns under direct
artillery fire must surrender or be annihilated. This is the reason that
troops have been captured in bodies of thousands on both sides. It is
also the chief reason that the slaughter has been so excessive.
On the night of the 28th, at about 10.30, we were aroused and paraded. I
was excessively tired at the time, hardly able to keep my eyes open, and
was under the impression that fighting was about to take place in our
immediate neighbourhood; but after standing in a drenching rain for
about half an hour we were marched off--I could not tell where or in
what direction.
The night was dark, the rain falling in torrents, and the ground a
quagmire; but the men marched quickly and in perfect silence. They were
not permitted to smoke, an indulgence which was usual on marches.
I marched with an East Russian regiment from Perm, which had already
seen such hard service that it was reduced in strength from 4,000 to
less than 2,000 men. There were other regiments in the division which
had suffered even more severely. The men were cheerful, recent accounts
of great victories on the Austrian frontier having much raised their
spirits.
We plodded on till eight o'clock the next morning, when we were halted,
and each man, including officers, was handed a mug of coffee and two
large biscuits, commissariat carts passing down the ranks for this
purpose. It was still raining. During the night we had passed through
two towns and two villages, but I had no idea where we then were. After
waiting two hours till about 10 a.m., we resumed our march, and after
proceeding four or five versts arrived at Ostrolenka railway-station.
Troops were leaving this place by train, and we were placed in carriages
about noon, and departed eastward. I shared a compartment with six
officers and was able to hold a little communication with them. Their
opinion was that we were going to Grodno, about 150 versts from
Ostrolenka. After smoking a cigar or two they all went to sleep and
within a few minutes I had followed their example, and was so dog-tired
that I did not awake until I was aroused at Grodno, where we arrived at
six o'clock in the evening. The sound of heavy artillery firing was
heard as we stood on the platform; but no information could be gleaned
about what was going on, and in a short time we were placed in another
train and sent off in the direction of Suvalki, the capital town of a
province of the same name. At ten o'clock we were detrained on the line
near to a large sheet of water, probably at Otschauka.
A big battle was going on some eight or ten versts away. We could hear a
tremendous sound of firing, and could see the red reflection in the sky
for many miles on either hand. Without delay we were marched towards
this scene of conflict, and at once began to meet long lines of wounded
men and prisoners. The Germans were reported to be getting the worst of
the fight, but the Russians stood in need of reinforcements.
We hurried on, the men marching at a very quick step, but often
floundering through slush and mud. The ground was very soft and marshy,
and full of ponds and streams with steep banks. Troops were in front of
us, and others behind; and judging from a spluttering rifle-fire, I
thought our flank was being protected by a cavalry skirmishing line. It
was the first serious night-fight in which I had been engaged. As we
advanced it became more and more evident that it was a battle of an
extensive and desperate description; and enough could be seen to show
that its front extended at least twenty versts, and probably much more.
At length we were halted and deployed into line; and I thought other
infantry regiments were coming up on both flanks; but the night was too
dark to enable one to make sure of much. While we were thus engaged a
cavalry regiment rode into us--it cannot be said that it charged--and I
have always been of opinion that they made a mistake of some kind. Half
of them were killed, the rest surrendered; and I tried to gain
possession of one of their horses, as I had been recommended to do. I
was disappointed. Some unmannerly rascal took it from me just as I was
trying to get into the saddle, and time and circumstances made an
argument both difficult and dangerous.
We were within long range of artillery fire, and stray shells burst
over our heads and fell amongst our ranks; and an order was passed that
we were to lie down. The ground was sodden, and most of us were very
damp if not wet through; but there we lay for two hours until about 1.30
a.m., when we were suddenly ordered to advance.
We had not gone 1,000 yards when there was some wild shooting in front
of us, and to my astonishment I found that we were close upon the enemy.
It must have been a surprise to them, or they would never have permitted
us to close without riddling us with rifle and cannon shot according to
their usual tactics; and either desperation lent them energy, or they
were getting used to the handling of their weapons, for I never saw a
fiercer bayonet fight on the part of the Germans. They burnt flares, or
a similar contrivance, which threw a lurid light over the fiercely
struggling mass of human furies, and benefited us as much as it did
themselves; and that was a good thing, for otherwise it would have been
almost impossible to distinguish friend from foe, and accidents must
have been of frequent occurrence.
The enemy appeared to have made some shallow rifle trenches, but many of
them fought on open, flat ground; and their losses were terrible. The
fight lasted, furiously, desperately, for about a quarter of an hour;
then the Germans gave way and ran for their lives, closely followed by
their foes. As they ran they unbuckled their knapsacks and let them fall
to the ground. Many fell on their knees and held their hands up, not
always with success in obtaining mercy, though hundreds of prisoners
were taken and secured by the reserves which were following us in
support. Some threw themselves flat on the ground and thus often escaped
immediate death.
The officers on both sides lost control of their men. I could hear the
Germans shouting and threatening and saw some of them throw themselves
before the soldiers in a vain attempt to stop the headlong flight; while
our men were so excited that the commands of their officers were quite
ignored--a very unusual thing amongst Russian soldiers, whose reverence
for their commanders resembles that of saints for their priests.
I believe the Germans suffered something from their own artillery fire,
their shells bursting amongst friends and foes alike. One fell close in
front of me and the explosion made me shiver; but though it killed at
least half a dozen men I escaped without so much as a scratch, though I
afterwards found my clothes torn by projectiles of some kind.
The pursuit went on for hours. When daylight broke it had not diminished
in vigour, and, the country being an open marsh, the enemy, deprived of
the trenches in which they love to fight, could find no point of support
and were kept on the run. Many of them, far too heavily accoutred, fell
from exhaustion, and soon they began to surrender in squads and
companies.
Cavalry on our left front made a demonstration, but the ground was so
rotten that they could not charge; and we soon began to come up with
guns embedded in the mud. Gunners and horses were bayoneted, and the
guns afterwards fell into our hands. I was told that hundreds were
taken; certainly whole batteries were left behind, the majority of the
horses having been worked to death in an endeavour to drag them away. I
saw them lying dead harnessed to guns and waggons. Some were still
dying, groaning pitifully, and not a few were put out of their misery by
men whom the fiercest passion could not deprive of some sense of
compassion for innocent suffering. I came upon a German gunner engaged
in this praiseworthy work, and gave him a friendly nod. He returned the
nod with equal friendliness before hopping after his comrades with a
couple of pounds of mud clinging to each boot. Ah! war is a sad, sad
business. It must be bred of the devil: for one would rather lose his
soul than fail to sabre or stab the foe in front of him; and yet when
the fierce rage of the fight is over, one would give the whole world not
to have done such a thing.
The Prussians must have had reserves in the field, but we saw nothing of
them. Either they were dealt with by other bodies of our troops, or,
seeing that the day was lost, took the hint and did not wait. Our men
kept up the pursuit until nearly noon the next morning, when the
majority of them were so exhausted that they threw themselves on the
ground and slept where they lay, with the rain pelting down upon them.
This action was known to the Russians as the "Battle of Suvalki," and
was the nearest approach to an old-fashioned fight that had taken
place. It was a tremendous affair, fought on a front of nearly thirty
English miles; and was a complete, unqualified German defeat. They lost
about 30,000 killed and wounded, and nearly as many more taken
prisoners. The Kaiser was in personal command throughout the action; and
is responsible for the precious mess made of it. About 300 field-guns
were captured, but some of them were so firmly embedded in the mud that
they could not be dragged off, horses being scarce. According to my
estimate at least 8,000 of these poor beasts perished in the fight.
There is no exaggeration in these estimations. One column of prisoners
alone which I passed on its way to the interior of Russia was five miles
long, the men marching without a break, in double file, or six abreast,
according to German formation. (The German file is usually three men
deep, and not two, as it is in most other European armies.)
Both sides were thoroughly exhausted by this tremendous struggle; and
there was no fighting on the latter part of the 1st and the whole of the
2nd of October; at any rate by the troops which had been engaged in the
main battle. On the 3rd we resumed our advance into Prussia, but late in
the afternoon were ordered to halt, and the remainder of the day was
spent in taking up an alignment facing due north towards Tilsit. The
object of this movement was not clear to me; but there can be no doubt
that our position was sometimes almost critical. The force which fought
the Battle of Suvalki was outflanked both to the north and to the
south, and had we suffered defeat the disaster would have been a
terrible one. The Russians had not only a huge marsh in their rear, but
also a large and deep river (the Niemen), and what that might have meant
may be gathered from the fearful losses of the Germans when they were
forced, as a part of the movement I have been describing, over it to the
north of Suvalki. Not much about this disaster seems to have leaked out
as yet, but it cost the Germans at least another 20,000 men, nearly all
of whom perished by drowning; in fact, the passage of the Niemen is
second only, as a military _debacle_, to that of the Beresina in
Napoleon's days. Eye-witnesses, whose veracity cannot be questioned,
amongst them being General Rennenkampf, asserted that whole companies,
and batteries of artillery, were swept away, the heavy rains having
greatly increased the current of the river. Heavy siege guns, destined
for the bombardment of Warsaw, were lost; and several of the bridges
constructed by the German engineers collapsed under the excessive weight
forced upon them; while two of these structures were demolished by the
Russian shell fire, being crowded with men at the time. In fact,
whatever the outcome of the campaign, the Germans will never forget the
dressing they got at the passage of the Niemen below Tilsit.
The effect of the battle of Suvalki was very great. The German objective
had been Warsaw, and they tried to seize it, as they tried to seize
Paris, by a rapid and impetuous advance. They had reached Suvalki and
Rovno in the north, and their advanced parties were on their way to
Wilna, the capture of which would have cut the communications of Warsaw;
while southwards they had reached Radom, 140 miles over the border, and
two-thirds of the way to Warsaw. Suvalki saved Warsaw; for it compelled
the Germans to fall back north and south and evacuate West Poland. It is
beyond all measure the most important victory the Russians have gained;
for though the loss of Warsaw would not necessarily mean the loss of the
war, it would be a nasty blow to the Muscovite prestige, and might
entail the loss of Petrograd. As one of their most fervent well-wishers
I heartily rejoice that they won Suvalki. It must have been a knock-down
blow for Wilhelm der Grosse, as it showed conclusively that if he is a
Napoleonic tyrant he is not a Napoleonic genius. Like the little man
with the large head he is a big scoundrel; but, unlike the Corsican, he
is not a great soldier.
A wonderful army, though, is this German Army. After suffering a
crushing defeat and losing, with those drowned in the Niemen, from
70,000 to 80,000 men, they drew off in fairly good order, and in a few
days were again a formidable host. They did not sustain a "rout." No
fair, impartial account of what really occurred can go so far as to say
that. A crushing defeat it was, but not a rout.
These operations cost the Germans, in addition to their loss of men,
about 700 guns of various descriptions and 18,000 horses. About 850
waggons and carts fell into the Russian hands.