"CROSSING THE AISNE"
In order to gain a clear idea of what was involved in the feat of
"crossing the Aisne," which more than one expert has declared to
be the greatest military feat in river crossing in the history of
arms, it is well to look at the topography of that point, first in
its relation to the whole German line, and, second, in its relation
to possible attack in September, 1914.
The prepared positions on the Aisne to which the Germans fell back
after the battle of the Marne, were along a line of exceptionally
strong natural barriers. The line extends from a point north of
Verdun, on the heights of the Meuse, across the wooded country of
the Argonne and the plain of Champagne to Rheims, thence northwest
to Brimont, crossing the Aisne near its confluence with the Suippe,
and from thence proceeding to Craonne, whence it takes a westerly
course along the heights of the Aisne to the Forest of the Eagle,
north of Compiègne. The eastern end of this line has already been
described in connection with the battles of the Marne, and it is
the western section of this line which now demands consideration.
Just as the River Marne was taken as a basis for the consideration
of the topography of the battles that centered round the crossing
of the Ourcq, Grand Morin, Petit Morin, and the Marne, so the Aisne
is naturally the most important determinant in the problems of
its crossing.
The River Aisne rises in the Argonne, southwest of Verdun. Through
the Champagne region its banks are of gradual slope, but shortly
after it passes Rethel, on its westerly course, the configuration
changes sharply, and at Craonne the bluffs overlooking the river
are 450 feet high. It is easy to see what an inaccessible barrier
is made by such a line of cliffs. For forty miles this line of
bluffs continues, almost reaching to Compiègne, where the Aisne
enters the Oise. Not only are the banks of the Aisne thus guarded
by steep bluffs, but the character of those bluffs is peculiarly
fitted for military purposes. For long stretches along the north
side the cliffs stand sheer and have spurs that dip down sharply
to the valley. The ridge, or the top of the bluff, which looks
from below like the scarp of a great plateau, lies at an average
of a mile or more from the stream. Many of these spurs jut out in
such a way that if fortified they could enfilade up and downstream.
To add to the military value of such a barrier the edge of the scarp
is heavily wooded, while the lower slopes are steep and grassy,
with small woods at irregular intervals. Even from the high ground
on the south bank of the stream, the top of the plateau on the
north cannot be seen, and from below it is effectually cloaked.
Two tributaries are to be considered in this river valley which thus
forms so natural a post of defense. Both flow in from the south,
the Suippe, which joins the main stream at Neufchâtel-sur-Aisne and
the Vesle, on which stands the ancient city of Rheims. This river
joins the Aisne a little over seven miles east of Soissons, which
is itself twenty miles east of Compiègne.
The line taken by the German armies for their stand was not the
river itself, but the northern ridge. At no place more than a mile
and a half from the river, it was always within gunfire of any
crossing. Every place of crossing was commanded by a spur. Every
road on the north bank was in their hands, every road on the south
bank curved upward so as to be a fair mark for their artillery.
As the German drive advanced, a huge body of sappers and miners
had been left behind to fortify this Aisne line, and the system
developed was much the same along its entire distance.
There were two lines of barbed-wire entanglements, one in the bed
of the stream which would prevent fording or swimming, and which,
being under water, could not easily be destroyed by gunfire from
the southern bank. Above this was a heavy chevaux-de-frise and
barbed-wire entanglement, partly sunk and concealed from view; in
many places pitted and covered with brushwood. Above this, following
approximately a thirty-foot contour, came a line of trenches for
infantry, and fifty yards behind a second line of trenches, commanding
a further elevation of fifty feet. Two-thirds of the way up the
hill came the trench-living quarters, the kitchens, the bakeries,
the dormitories, and so forth, and the crest of the hill bristled
along its entire length with field guns, effectually screened by
trees. On the further side of the ridge, in chalk pits, were the
great howitzers, tossing their huge shells over the ridge and its
defenses into the river itself, and even on the south bank beyond.
Truly, a position of power, and one that the boldest of troops
might hesitate to attack.
It is quite possible that had the entire strength of the German
position been known, no attempt to cross would have been made,
but there was always a possibility that the counterchecks of the
German army were no more than the rear-guard actions of the three
or four days immediately preceding. Yet Sir John French seems to
have expected the true state of affairs, for he remarks in his
dispatches:
"The battles of the Marne, which lasted from the morning of the
6th to the evening of the 10th, had hardly ended in the precipitate
flight of the enemy when we were brought face to face with a position
of extraordinary strength, carefully intrenched and prepared for
defense by an army and staff which are thorough adepts in such
work."
Yet it was evident that if the armies of the Allies were to secure
any lasting benefit from the battles of the Marne, they must dislodge
the invading hosts from their new vantage ground. It was obvious
that the task was one of great peril and one necessarily likely
to be attended with heavy loss of life. Sir John French, knowing
the tactical value of driving a fleeing army hard, determined on
forcing the issue without delay.
Before proceeding to recount in detail the events of that six days'
battle of the Aisne, which little by little solidified into an
impasse, it might be well to trace the new positions that had been
taken by the respective armies engaged in the struggle for the
supremacy of western Europe. General von Kluck, still in charge
of the First German Army, was in control of the western section
from the Forest of the Eagle to the plateau of Craonne. He had
forced his men to almost superhuman efforts, and by midnight of
September 11 he had succeeded in getting most of his artillery
across the Aisne, at Soissons, and had whipped his infantry into
place on the heights north of the stream. That, with his exhausted
troops, he succeeded remains still a tribute to his power as a
commander. But the men were done. Further attack meant rout. His
salvation lay in his heavy field guns and howitzers, an arm of
the service in which the French army, under General Maunoury (and
General Pau, who had taken a superior command during the turning of
the German drive at the Marne), was notoriously weak. Still there
was little comfort there, for the British army was well supplied
with heavy artillery, and the Fifth French Army of General d'Espérey,
also coming up to confront him, was not entirely lacking in this
branch of the service.
General von Bülow's army was combined with that of General von
Hausen, who fell ill and was retired from his command. Against
this combined army was ranged the victorious and still fresh army
of General Foch, lacking two corps, which had been detached for
reserves elsewhere. One of these corps apparently went to the aid of
General Sarrail, whose stand was still a weak point in the Allies'
line. General Sarrail, however, was now better supported by the
movement of General Langle with the Fourth French Army, who advanced
toward Troyon and confronted the combined armies of the Imperial
Crown Prince and the Duke of Württemberg. This released General
Sarrail to his task of intrenching and enlarging the defenses about
Verdun, the importance of which had become more poignant than ever
before in the events of the past week. The far eastern end of the
line remained unchanged.
The credit for the crossing of the Aisne lies with the British
troops. The battles of the Marne had thrust Sir John French into a
prominent position, wherein he was able to achieve a much-desired
result without any great loss of life. But the battle of the Aisne
was different. It was a magnificent effort boldly carried out,
and, as was afterward learned, it could not have been successful
had the onset been delayed even one day.
General Maunoury's army, encamped in the forest of the Compiègne,
was again the first to give battle, as it had been in the battles
of the Marne. Using some heavy guns that had been sent on from
Paris, in addition to the batteries that had been lent him by the
British, he secured some well-planned artillery positions on the
south bank, and spent the morning in a long-range duel with the
German gunners near Soissons. The Germans had not all taken up
their positions on the north side of the Aisne on the morning of
September 12, 1914, and the heavy battery of the Fourth British
Division did good service early in the morning, dislodging some
of these before it wheeled in line beside the big French guns,
in an endeavor to shell the trenches and level the barbed-wire
entanglements, that an opportunity might be made to cross. But
the results were not encouraging of success, for the reply from
the further shore was terrific. General von Kluck's army might
be worn out, but the iron throats of his guns were untiring, and
he knew that huge reenforcements were on the way.
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