The Last Fragments of Antwerp
By Artillery Captain M---- C----
_The Retreat_
We were approaching the frontier----
Behind those trees, five hundred yards away, was Holland, the boundary
of our country. To cross that frontier meant the end for the time being
of our resistance.... What would be done with us there? Would they--?
Ah no, at that idea, my whole soul revolted and strengthened me against
the force of things. Cross that frontier? Never! And once more the idea
which had come into my mind, and taken possession of me ever since
leaving Antwerp, became imperious: "Join the King once more or--die."
Good, this time I felt ready to risk everything.
Confusion reigned supreme. Everything seemed to be mixed up in
inextricable disorder. In the narrow streets of this frontier village,
men of all kinds of arms, belonging to every different unit, were
gathered together _pêle-mêle_. The retreat had brought them all here
together to this spot. Soldiers were looking for their chiefs, officers
were looking for their troops and, whilst trying to bring some kind
of order into the chaos, they were hindered by carts and vehicles of
all sorts, the drivers of which were endeavouring to make a way for
themselves through the seething crowds. I had never felt, until this
moment, all the horror of the defeat and the strange impotence of the
army that has experienced it.
These lamentable fragments were all that remained of the Antwerp
garrison. Assailed on all sides in the last redoubt of the fortified
place, they had held out against the victorious enemy to the very
end. The cannons, dragged along for miles by the men themselves,
had been turned round and pointed backwards, on the city from which
the Germans were already coming. Then the retreat had taken place,
the interminable, exhausting retreat, when, in order to avoid being
surrounded, we had marched, without halt, in the dust and heat of the
sun, half dead with hunger and parched with thirst, the enemy harassing
our flanks and threatening to cut us off all the time.
At present, we were here, at the frontier, and were in the position of
an army in a blind alley. The darkness came on and we were surrounded
by the enemy. We had been without food for two or three days. The men
were dazed and bewildered by the commotion and could no longer hear the
orders they received. One of them came wandering towards me and I told
him where he would find his Company. He looked at me in a dazed way.
I seized him by the shoulders and pushed him in the direction of his
troop. Under the impulse of the strength acquired by my push, he walked
a few steps and then rolled into a ditch, and remained there stretched
out as though lifeless.
Vague rumours were circulating, discouraging, gloomy news. Some of our
troops had gone over into Holland and we were going to follow them, as
our retreat was cut off and the enemy quite near.... In the midst of
the darkness, firing rent the air. I prepared immediately for parrying
an attack, as I found myself in the rear-guard.
Suddenly, I heard a dull, prolonged sound in the village. I sent a
messenger and went myself to the outposts. Quartermaster Snysters, a
volunteer, though quite an elderly man, addressed me: "Lieutenant," he
said, with an anxious look on his face, "is it true that we are going
over into Holland?"
"My dear fellow, we shall not go over into Holland unless we want to,"
I answered. "Are we both of the same mind?"
"Ah, good! As for me, you know----"
He finished with an energetic gesture which required no words.
"Where are the others?" I asked.
The others were a few brave sub-officers, who, with my friend Snysters,
had promised to follow me whatever happened, through everything,
through the enemy, through death itself, if necessary. They were all
there, awaiting me.
"My friends," I said, "things seem to be in a bad way. The moment has
come to prove your mettle. Are you all of the same mind still?"
"Lieutenant," said big Van Bastelaer, "we are ready for
everything--except to be prisoners."
"Good," I answered.
My messenger had not come back though. The sound I had heard in the
village seemed farther off and everything appeared to be calm. I went
to see for myself and found perfect silence in the dark street.
There was not a man to be seen. What was happening? Presently, in the
deserted Square of the little village, I saw a little group of soldiers
appear and, at the head of it, I recognised Major S----.
"Is that you M----?" he called out, and then, in a lower tone, he
added, "They have crossed the frontier, we are alone.... Have you any
men?"
"Yes, Major, I am holding the outposts."
"Bring your men to the Square at once."
"My friends," said the Major, speaking very gravely, when we were all
assembled there, "we are surrounded by big forces. There is nothing
left but to cross the frontier and go into Holland. Those who do not
wish to go with me are free."
"Good, Major," I answered, approaching him. "I will go with you to the
frontier, but not beyond it."
The Major looked angry, but he restrained himself.
"What do you propose doing?" he asked.
"I intend getting through the German lines or dying in the attempt."
"But it is pure madness."
"I do not care to give up my sword, Major, as long as I can use it."
He reflected for a minute and then held out his hand. "Good," he said,
"you are free. Adieu!"
Four men then left the ranks. They were my four friends, who all
preferred a glorious death to servitude.
"Attention! Right flank! Right! Forward--March!"
Silently and with dragging footsteps, the troop set out and was soon at
some distance. It then disappeared in the darkness.
The thing was done and we were alone, separated from our army by
streams of enemies, against whom we had to fling ourselves, and either
pass or die in the attempt. Courage! The moment had come for us to
prove our filial love for our beloved country! We were not conquered,
we four, and in spite of the disaster hovering over us, in spite of
Death, which we expected awaited us over yonder, we felt our hearts
full of joy, hope, and pride....
_In the German Lines_
Before setting out, we held council together for a few minutes. The
German lines now reached from St. Nicolas to the frontier. In a
movement as rapid as theirs had been, it was very probable that they
had left gaps between these two points, and we had to try to pass
through these gaps. I took the direction and we set out. I made the
sign of the cross and committed my soul and the souls of my companions
to the God of Justice. We each had a good gun, a bayonet, and our
pockets full of cartridges. We set off across the fields in the
darkness.
After walking about fifty yards, I was compelled to come to a
stand-still. The nervous tension which had kept me up whilst with
the troop had suddenly given way and, suddenly, the fatigue of the
preceding days seemed to come upon me and stiffen all my limbs. I felt
giddy and the whole country seemed to be turning round and round. I
fell to the ground, and my whole body seemed to be seized with an
immense weariness. I dare not give way to it, as it was necessary to
move on.
"Forward!" I said to myself, "for the King's sake!"
Presently we came to a cross-roads and it seemed to us as though
something had moved behind the hedge. One of us crawled towards the
spot and made a sign to the others that it was nothing. The wind had
probably stirred one of the branches. We walked on and on, straight
in front of us, across the immense polder, jumping over ditches full
of water, and stumbling over the turnips in the field, for we passed
through one after another of these turnip fields. I tore up a beet-root
and ate it greedily as I walked along.
In the distance, we saw a group of houses standing out vaguely against
the horizon. This was probably the dyke which forms a passage over the
water. If this dyke should be guarded, which was very probable, we
should have to look to ourselves. As we approached, we saw that the
houses were lighted up. Peasants would not have lights at that hour. I
crept along stealthily to one of the windows and gazed eagerly through
a crack in the shutters. There was a room full of Boches in grey coats,
some of them snoring and the others talking.
We slipped round towards the entrance to the dyke. At the bend was a
sentinel, motionless. I rubbed my chin and thought things over. If we
went along by the water, keeping at the bottom of the embankment, there
must surely be a way of crossing, if there were not a second sentinel.
Holding our breath and watching every shrub, we crept slowly along. We
came to the end of the dyke and had met no one.
This then was the first obstacle cleared without any difficulty. Our
prayer was that Heaven would protect the slumber of the Boches!
We were now once more in the endless desert, stumbling along in the
furrows, eating turnips, crossing fields, our gaze searching for
landmarks, which always seemed to draw farther away as we approached.
Our minds were occupied with a vision of our army, that army which
needed our arms and which had conquered our hearts.
Soon we came to a little hamlet. There were no lights and, if the
Germans were not there, we thought we might be able to take shelter
during the day. We approached a courtyard and there we saw some
weapons. In the sheds, we heard sonorous snores. We went on very
quietly, but we were glad to see how badly the Prussians kept guard. If
only they had known that five well-armed Belgians were having a look
round their quarters!
We continued our way and had now to go through meadows with hedges and
barriers of barbed wire. Here and there were solitary houses. We came
to one with a light in the window. We went some distance round in order
to avoid it. Suddenly, big Jeanjean, who was ahead of us, called out:
"This way, Lieutenant, there is a good path here."
He had scarcely finished speaking when I heard a tremendous splash and
the sound of a body struggling in the water. The unfortunate man had
taken one of those moss-covered canals, which intersect the district,
for a dry path, and had hurried forward with an eagerness worthy of
a better reward. A shot was heard almost immediately. Jeanjean freed
himself and came out of his bath, but bullets whizzed by our ears, as
we had been discovered.
We crawled along by the wretched ditch, and we jumped over another one,
and then hurried along under the hedges like hunted foxes, but we were
followed all the time by bullets.
In front of us, at the end of a field, I saw a row of houses, but we
had to be cautious, for the building on the right was the house with
a light that we had been avoiding. To the left were more houses, and
above them emerged a church steeple. It was a village, then, and we
knew it must be St.-Gilles-Waes, which was full of Germans. I noticed
a huge patch of big cabbages. We crept quickly to them and then,
crouching down amongst the leaves, with our fingers on the triggers of
our guns, we awaited events.
The firing gradually ceased, as the Boches had evidently lost track
of us. It was necessary for us to get away from there, though, before
daybreak and it was high time to start.
We came quietly out of our hiding-place, fifty yards from a sentinel,
whose back was turned towards us. We had to keep quite close to the
walls of farms which were swarming with the enemy. On passing in front
of the house with the light, I saw a figure lean out of the window, and
then the light was extinguished. The village behind us became animated
and the pursuit commenced.
A hundred yards in front of us, a group of men suddenly appeared at the
turn of the road. It was a patrol. We crept down an embankment and then
slipped, one after the other, into a little ditch which was covered by
the branches of filbert trees. The patrol passed by and disappeared.
The hour was advancing though, and day began to break. Our poor
Jeanjean was shivering all over. We could not possibly think of
spending the whole day like this. I saw a house, which looked very
peaceful, outside the village. Perhaps it was empty. We decided to go
and find out. Under the shelter of ditches and hedges, we arrived at
the back of the house. In the courtyard there were guns and bags lying
about. This was ominous, but our enterprising Van Bastelaer had already
crossed the fence and was quite near to it.
"Lieutenant," he said, "they are Belgian haversacks."
We hesitated a moment, and then all five of us entered the courtyard.
Some of us searched the bags, whilst the others began to explore the
house. I went to have a lookout from the little lane that led into the
road. At the other end of it, ten yards away from me, I saw a motor-car
and by it ... a German officer!
Just as I was looking at him, he turned round facing me, and our eyes
met. I went back to my men, but the Boche followed me. We were only
three steps away from each other, looking into each other's eyes. With
a quick gesture, he drew out his pistol and took aim. I unsheathed my
sword and held its point under his nose. I shall never forget what I
then saw. The Prussian officer turned deadly pale. Like a flash of
lightning, I saw a look of unutterable terror pass over his face and
then suddenly, before I had time to strike, this man, who had held my
life in his hands, turned on his heels and disappeared in the lane.
But at the same moment there was a general stir in the barns near by.
Heads looked out from everywhere. This time, it was going to be a
tough business. Without waiting for our change, we all sprang over the
palisadings. The first one caught his foot and fell, the next one fell
on him, and all five of us rolled one over the other into the ditch,
laughing in a way that must have made all the Boches in the farm wild
with fury.
Facing us was an immense, open space, as flat as a glacis. There was
nothing for it but to cross this. We started at full speed, but it was
over ploughed land.
"I fancy this stroke of business will be the end of us!" said Snysters,
gasping for breath.
"Yes," replied Jeanjean, who was breathing like a seal.
"It'll be good for your cold!" shouted little Gilissen, who was acting
as our rear-guard. And all five of us, keeping up our speed, laughed
heartily.
Presently we came to a road. Jeanjean rushed a little way towards us,
then stopped short and muttered: "Attention, Lieutenant!" I looked and
saw a German sentinel, leaning on his weapon, stationed at a little
building some five yards away from us. There was no time to manoeuvre;
I turned to my men and, whilst running, shouted out to them "Es geht
wohl! Kommen Sie hierdurch!"
We crossed the road under his very nose and rushed into a little wood
which skirted the opposite side. The sentinel did not move, deceived
probably, thanks to the dim light, to my words, and to the audacity of
our manoeuvre.
To our joy, at the other end of the wood, we saw a dark line stretching
out towards us. It was the labyrinth of fir-trees, of tall broom and
brushwood, which skirts the northern part of the country. We crossed
a glade, and then a clearing and a railroad. The enemy post there
had not time to stop us. There was another wood and then, at last,
we were in the thicket. Behind us, we gradually heard less and less
noise, and the firing was farther off and at longer intervals. Still
running, we described a series of zigzags and curves, leaving behind us
ditches, clearings, and glades.... Finally, in the midst of a patch of
young fir-trees, I fell down. I could not have got up again though for
anything. The others stretched themselves out near me and we all lay
there, like so many dead men, in the wet grass.
The day broke, a fine rain fell persistently, wetting us through to the
skin. We were shivering in every limb. Jeanjean coughed, snored, and
talked in his sleep. The two Flemish men joked, swore, and insulted
each other, each treating the other as a coward.... Gilissen, the
little Liége "_rossai_," was the only one who kept silence. He was
trying, conscientiously, to sleep with one eye and to take stock of
our surroundings with the other one. I reminded him of that time when
he had been on observation for the Barchon Fort and had remained for
forty-eight hours perched up on his steeple, surrounded by Germans, and
had come back to the Fort with all the material of the observation post.
Jeanjean, who certainly did not appear able to sleep well, now felt it
his duty to compose the _menu_. "Anchovies," he said, "salmon trout,
stuffed chicken, cream cakes," and I do not know what beside. I found
half a turnip in my pocket, Gilissen had three sweetmeats, and the
ground near us was strewn with acorns. We were all right, and could
certainly sustain a regular siege!
I looked at my map, a Touring Club map, which was the only one I had.
To my horror, I discovered that all the incidents of the night, and the
various turns we had been obliged to make, had made us describe an
immense semi-circle and that, at that moment, we were less than a mile
from the frontier and surrounded on all sides by Germans.
In the wood, the firing began again. We heard it in the distance and
then nearer to us. It was an organised search. Presently, this pursuit
made us a little anxious, for the bullets broke some branches near us.
We were obliged to leave our shelter and we went along under cover of
a deep ditch. At the end of this we came out and found ourselves--ten
yards away from a group of Prussians. We rushed into a thicket and the
hunt began again.
Presently there was a fresh respite for us, as quite suddenly some
quick firing was heard near by in a southerly direction. It sounded
like an engagement and we wondered what it could be. Perhaps it was
a Belgian troop, trying, like us, to get free. Extraordinary as this
supposition was, it was the only one that seemed probable. In case
we were right, it was our duty to endeavour to join it, at any cost,
and work together. Perhaps our unexpected intervention, insignificant
though it should be, might be sufficient to decide the issue of the
fight. We moved on and had scarcely gone two hundred yards, when we saw
a group of peasants coming out of a glade. They looked terrified. We
questioned them and found out that the Boches were firing on the houses
in the village, under the pretext that the inhabitants had hidden some
Belgian soldiers. The brutes! Instinctively, I moved forwards, but the
bullets whizzed by, quite close to our ears. This time, they came from
every side. On the left, on the right, the Germans were everywhere, the
whole place swarmed with them, like a veritable ant-heap. From thicket
to thicket, from ditch to ditch, we struggled along in order to avoid
being surrounded. But, alas, we were going backwards and behind us
was the frontier! Finally, we reached it. There was the line and that
open view beyond--a hundred yards away from us was Holland! It was the
only side on which Death would not mow us down. Snysters swore like a
demon. We took counsel together in whispers. There were three things
open to us. First, we might give ourselves up to the Germans, but we
had no idea of doing that. Secondly, we might let them kill us here,
on the last little corner of our native land. This was tempting, but
we could not rejoin our army if we decided on it. There was one other
alternative, and that was to keep close to the frontier and continue
our way, endeavouring to escape the German pursuit and the Dutch
sentry. This seemed to us the wisest plan of the three. We soon cleared
the hundred yards. There was an iron milestone at the corner of a wood.
A few steps and then we were in Holland.
_Prisoners_
The enemy from henceforth was the sentry, whom we had to avoid in
order to continue our way. We started along a sandy road in the midst
of a thick fir-wood. We had not gone a hundred yards, when we found
ourselves in front of a tall Dutch Sergeant, who made a sign for us to
stop. I looked all round just as a hunted beast does. In the clearing,
out of which the sub-officer had stepped, I saw a multitude of
soldiers, with orange-coloured stripes, walking along a road, together
with civilians.
"Hang it," I said to myself, "we are in a neutral country and are bound
to be polite."
I entered into conversation with the Dutchman. I endeavoured to make
him understand that everyone is liable to make a mistake in the road.
I apologised and, moving back, assured him that we would recross the
frontier by the shortest cut possible. This did not meet with his
approval, though, at all, and the great lanky fellow smiled amiably
in reply to my speech and invited us, very calmly, to accompany him.
We had nothing left but to obey, as we were already surrounded by
soldiers, and they looked devilishly in earnest. I hid my sword under
a bush and I took off my officer's insignia, to spare it shame, and in
order to be less noticed myself.
When we were at the police station, we threw our guns down on a heap of
plunder and then we were led away.
Disarmed and prisoners! Ah, there was no more laughing now! My four
wolves, transformed against their will into lambs, were furious, and
ready to gnaw their own fists. As for me, I felt myself degraded and
I could have wept with shame and rage. I thought I could read in the
eyes of the people, who were watching us pass by, a smile of pity and
of contempt, and I was grief stricken at having exposed our uniform to
such dishonour. Ah, how I regretted having crossed the fatal line! How
stupid of us to have let ourselves be caught like this! Not one of us
uttered a word. We did not reply to the questions we were asked. We
were like feline animals, caught in a trap, looking furtively for any
way of escape. It was a fixed idea with us to get back to Belgium, and
we felt that we must be back there the following day.
We were put with a convoy of prisoners. How shall I describe the
painful journey of that lamentable herd of men! Oh, the humiliation of
that procession of soldiers without arms! On turning a street, we made
off, but we were brought back. At Terneuzen, we made a second attempt
to escape. Together with another comrade, who was ready to make common
cause with us, we tried to get some civilian clothes. It was useless.
The ready-made-clothes shops were shut and no one would supply us with
any. In desperation, I placed my men in two ranks, put on my officer's
insignia again, and we marched quietly towards the gate of the town. We
were stopped on the way by the sentry.
"Where are you going?" we were asked.
"To Sas-de-Gand."
"What for?"
"To fetch some teams for the ambulance carriages."
"Who sent you?"
"The officer at the bridge."
Our questioner did not look thoroughly convinced.
"Forward--March!"
We did not need telling a second time. At the boundary postern, we were
questioned again. As we put on a calm, assured manner and were very
gruff, our stratagem succeeded again. We were now on the Selzaete main
road, and in two hours we should be on Belgian soil, if all continued
satisfactorily. Our feet now seemed to have wings. Half way, alas,
we came across another sentry-box and here a telephonic message had
been received with regard to our escape. In this land of canals and
dykes, things are easy for the authorities. We were arrested and taken
back to Terneuzen, between two rows of soldiers with drawn bayonets.
This fresh attempt made things bad for us, and we were now considered
dangerous individuals, put on to a boat, and carefully guarded. We
were then sent off by water, with a group of prisoners, to an unknown
destination.
* * * * *
It was dark and I was lying down on the bridge, although it was icy
cold, looking at the stars, whilst on the coast the Quays seemed to
be flying behind us. We had been sailing along for some time, and I
supposed we were now in front of Flushing. There were more canals,
which seemed to intersect each other endlessly. I wondered where we
were going, and all night long we went on and on.
In the morning the boat stopped. On the Quay, the crowd hurried towards
us and threw us bread and fruit. There was great confusion, shouting,
and a regular tumult. This was the moment for us. We stepped over the
netting, jumped on to the Quay, and hid ourselves in some enormous
packing cases filled with manure, which were standing near. We had not
been seen, so that all seemed right. The towing-boat whistled for the
departure, but, unfortunately, we were too well known. Our absence was
noticed, and we were once more discovered and taken on board.
For hours we continued on the water, in the immense arms of the sea
and we did not stop anywhere on our way. Water, water everywhere!
How should we ever escape? The first thing for us to do, evidently,
was to procure some civilian clothes. On the boat, certain prisoners
were already dressed as ordinary citizens. We talked to some of them
quietly, and offered to exchange our uniforms for their garments.
Very soon, we were wearing the finest dockers' suits imaginable.
We could not help laughing to see what ruffians we looked in this
fresh disguise. Snysters looked like a regular hooligan, Jeanjean
wore a thread-bare flannel suit, which outlined his corpulent figure
admirably. Gilissen looked like a collier and I like a miserable
beggar. Rolent, our new recruit, with his soft felt hat, was the one
who looked the most decent. Van Bastelaer refused obstinately to take
off his uniform. It was unfortunate for him, as he was not able to get
away with us.
Finally, we reached Dordrecht. The convoy was allowed to land, so that
the prisoners might have a meal at the barracks. After this, we were to
be taken to Groningen, in Friesland, to be interned there.
"Groningen, merciful Heavens!" we said to ourselves; "we absolutely
must find a way of escape from here, as this is the last good card left
in our hands."
We were placed four abreast and, between two rows of soldiers, the
troop set out. The streets were full of spectators, who asked the
soldiers for buttons and cartridges as keepsakes. This was just
the thing for us. One of us, at the turn of a street, set to work
distributing so generously that a crowd collected and there was
disorder, and a break in the line of the troops. That was just what we
needed and, very simply, turning half round we took our place with the
crowd, and watched the procession pass, like all the other good people.
Oh, liberty! In order to relish its sweetness, we must first have been
deprived of it for a time! How joyfully we went along in those narrow
streets where we were quite unknown! How eagerly we discussed our plans
for returning to our "free" Belgium!
_The Return_
We had the good luck to find a courageous Belgian boatman at Dordrecht.
He put us up on his boat and provided us with the wherewithal for
reaching Flushing. Once there, mingling with the refugees, we had no
difficulty in passing unnoticed. We were at last on our way to Belgium:
boat, train, carriages, motor-car, waggons, every kind of transport did
we make use of in order to hasten our return. Our determination carried
us through.
Finally, we reached the frontier and our feet were on Belgian soil. Oh
bliss, no words can describe the feelings we had at that moment! It was
then that I understood fully what the love of one's country really is.
The very air seemed purer, the ground looked different, and we knew all
the odours and the grasses which grew in the ditches by the roadside.
The trees welcomed us and their branches told us over again old things
that we already knew, with their familiar swayings, which awoke in the
bottom of our hearts all kinds of adorable and mysterious memories. Oh,
that profound life in all things, how it drank in and absorbed the life
of our very souls, and with what happiness this expanded and mingled
again with that other life!
The soul of our country was in everything and, whilst murmuring its
captivating song, with its smile both sad and gay, it seemed to take us
under its wings and at the same time implore our aid.
Poor Belgium! Mother of my blood and of my life, I should have liked to
kiss thy martyred ground! But what my burning kiss could not have told
you then, my blood, which is thine, shall tell thee some day, when it
waters the soil for thee, glad to fertilise the germ of thy liberty!
We walked on, happy and feverishly anxious, hurrying on with all our
strength, in order to be ready for that invading stream which was on
its way to our coast and which might cut us off a second time.
Finally, at Ostend, we found the very last of our columns pressed on
closely by the Germans. With our columns we reached Furnes, where the
King was.
No one recognised us at first, such wretched objects did we look. We
were all five of us at the end of our tether. One or two of us could
not walk any farther, and the others were as though dazed. But we had
drawn from the struggle, with the joy of having done our duty, a force
that was infinitely greater and more precious than bodily force. It
was the force of the heart that loves, whose will is imperious and can
accomplish what it wills, for the sake of that love!