(_A day of honour for our Regiment.
24^{th} September 1914._)
It is the title of an article of two hundred lines, sent from the front
by a soldier of the regiment. Non-commissioned-officer Klemt. 1. Komp.
Infanterie Reg^t 154.
Klemt tells how on the 24^{th} of September his regiment which had
left Hannonville in the morning and supported on the march by Austrian
batteries was suddenly received by a double fire from artillery and
infantry. The losses were enormous. And yet the enemy was invisible.
At last, however, it was seen that the firing came from above, from
trees where French soldiers were posted. From now on I shall no longer
summarise, but quote. (_Plate 16_).
We brought them down like squirrels, and gave them a warm reception,
with blows of the butt and the bayonet: they no longer need doctors;
we are no longer fighting loyal enemies, but treacherous brigands.[28]
[Illustration: _Plate 14._]
"By leaps and bounds we got across the clearing. They were here,
there, and everywhere hidden in the thicket. Now it is down with
the enemy! And we will give them no quarter. Every one shoots
standing, a few, a very few fire kneeling. No one tries to take
shelter. We reach a little depression in the ground: here the red
trousers dead or wounded lie on a heap ground. We knock 'down' or
bayonet the wounded, for we know that those scoundrels fire at our
backs when we have gone by. There was a Frenchman there stretched
out, full length, face down, pretending to be dead. A kick from a
strong fusilier soon taught him that we were there. Turning round,
he asked for quarter, but we answered: "Is that the way your tools
work, you,--" and he was nailed to the ground. Close to me I heard
odd cracking sounds. They were blows from a gun on the bald head
of a Frenchman which a private of the 154^{th} was dealing out
vigorously; he was wisely using a French gun so as not to break his
own. Tenderhearted souls are so kind to the French wounded that they
finish them with a bullet, but others give them as many thrusts and
blows as they can.
"Our adversaries had fought bravely, we had to contend with picked
men; they let us get within thirty, even ten metres of them--too
near. Sacks and arms thrown away in quantities showed that they had
try to run, but at the sight of the "grey phantoms" fear paralyzed
them, and on the narrow path they had to take, German bullets brought
them the word of command, _Halt_. At the entry into the screen of
branches, there they lay groaning and crying for quarter. But whether
wounded slightly or severely, the brave fusiliers spare their country
the cost of caring for many enemies."
[Illustration: _Plate 15._]
The narrative goes on, full of literary ornaments. The writer reports
that H. R. H. Prince Oscar of Prussia who had been told of these brave
deeds (perhaps too of others) of the 154^{th} regiment, and of the
regiment of grenadiers who were brigaded with the 154^{th} declared
that they were both worthy of the name of _Königsbrigade_, and ends up
with this sentence "When evening came, after a prayer of thanksgiving
we fell asleep in the expectation of the morrow". Then the author
having added as a postscript a few more touches in verse takes his
composition to his lieutenant, who affixes his seal thereupon.
Certified to be exact
De Niem, Leutnant und Kompagnie-Führer.
Then he addresses his article to the town of Jauer, where he is sure
that an editor will accept it, compositors will print it, and an entire
population will delight in it.
[Illustration: _Plate 16._
seelt alle. Schon werden die ersten Franzmänner entdeckt. Von den
Bäumen werden sie heruntergeknallt wie Eichhörnchen, unten mit Kolben
und Seitengewehr "warm" empfangen, brauchen sie keinen Arzt mehr, wir
kämpfen nicht mehr gegen ehrliche Feinde, sondern gegen tückische
Räuber. Springend geht's über die Lichtung hinüber--da! dort! in den
Hecken stecken sie drin, nun aber drauf, Pardon wird nicht gegeben.
Stehend, freihändig, höchstens knieend wird geschossen, an Deckung
denkt niemand mehr. Wir kommen an eine Mulde, tote und verwundete
Rothosen liegen massenhaft umher, die Verwundeten werden erschlagen
oder erstochen, denn schon wissen wir, daß diese Lumpen, wenn wir
vorbei sind, uns im Rücken befeuern.
$Mit der größten Erbitterung wird gekämpft.$
Dort liegt ein Franzmann lang ausgestreckt, das Gesicht auf dem Boden,
er stellt sich aber nur tot. Der Fußtritt eines strammen Musketiers
belehrt ihn, daß wir da sind. Sich umdrehend, ruft er Pardon, aber
schon ist er mit den Worten: "Siehst du, du B ..., so stechen eure
Dinger" auf der Erde festgenagelt. Neben mir das unheimliche Krachen
kommt von den Kolbenschlägen her, die ein 154er wuchtig auf einen
französischen Kahlkopf niedersausen läßt. Wohlweislich benutzte er
zu der Arbeit ein französisches Gewehr, um das seinige nicht zu
zerschlagen. Leute mit besonders weichem Gemüt geben verwundeten
Franzosen die Gnadenkugel, die anderen hauen und stechen nach
Möglichkeit. Tapfer haben sich die Gegner geschlagen, es waren
Elitetruppen, die wir vor uns hatten, auf 30-10 Meter ließen sie uns
herankommen, dann war's allerdings zu spät. Massenhaft weggeworfene
Tornister und Waffen zeugen davon, daß sie fliehen wollten, aber das
Entsetzen beim Anblick der feldgrauen "Unholde" hat ihnen die Füße
gelähmt und mitten im schmalen Stege hat ihnen die deutsche Kugel ihr
"Stopp"]
Now, I ask my reader, no matter of what nationality: can he imagine
such an article being printed in his own language, in the town in which
he lives, and read by his wife and children? In what country, except
Germany is such a thing conceivable? Not in France, at least.
Here is still one further convincing proof of how usual it is for the
German army to mutilate the wounded. It is taken (_Plates 17 and 18_)
from the diary of P^{te} Paul Glöde, of the 9^{th} Battalion of the
Pioneers (IX Corps):
"12^{th} August 1914. In Belgium.--It is easy to imagine the state
of fury of our soldiers, when you see the villages that have been
destroyed. There is not one house left undamaged. All eatables are
requisitioned by the soldiers no longer commanded. We have seen
heaps of dead men and women who had been executed after trial. But
the righteous anger of our soldiers goes hand in hand with sheer
vandalism. In some villages which had already been deserted they "set
up the red cock" on all the houses (burnt them). The inhabitants
sadden me. If they use disloyal weapons, after all they are but
defending their country. The atrocities that these civilians have
been and are guilty of are avenged in a savage manner. _Mutilation of
the wounded is the order of the day._"[29]
This was written on the 12^{th} of August, only eight days after
innocent Belgium had been invaded, and the wounded who were tortured
were only defending, against Germany that land, their native land which
Germany had sworn to respect and if necessary to defend. But in many a
country, the Pharisees who having read these lines will calmly go to
their churches or Chapels, their bank-parlours or their chancelleries
murmuring: "In what way do these things concern me? _Ja, Ja_, it is
war".
[Illustration: _Plate 17._]
[Illustration: _Plate 18._]
Yes, it is war, but a war such as was never waged by the soldiers of
Marceau, nor ever will be waged by the soldiers of Joffre, such as
never has been nor ever will be waged by France, "mother of the arts,
of arms and of law". Yes, it is war, but such as even Attila would not
have waged, had he agreed to certain engagements, for, to agree to them
would have been to awake to the conception which _alone_ distinguishes
the civilized man from the barbarian--the nation from the horde--the
respect of the given word.--Yes, it is war, but a war whose insolent
principles could be constructed only by pedantic megalomaniacs, the
Julius von Hartmanns, the Bernhardis, the Treitschkes; principles that
presume to authorize the people elect to blot out from the laws and
customs of war all the humanity that centuries of Christianity and
chivalry have with difficulty introduced; principles of systematic
ferocity, the odious side of which is already obvious enough; but still
more the senseless and ridiculous side. Is it not indeed ridiculous
that they should be already obliged to deny it at least in words,--they
the burners of Louvain, Malines and Reims, they the assassins of women,
children, and wounded men! and that they should have imposed upon
their slavish ninety-three _Kulturträger_ the denials which we know
so well: "It is not true, say they, that we wage war contrary to the
laws of nations, and our soldiers do not commit acts of indiscipline
or cruelty[30]", and again: "We will carry on this war to the bitter
end as a civilised people, for this we will answer in our name and on
our honour". Why this pitiful and humble denial? Perhaps because their
theory of war presupposes as a postulate their invincibility, and as at
the first shudder of their defeat on the Marne it collapsed, they now
repudiate it at the first threat of retaliations.
I shall draw no conclusion: the allied armies who are marching on
towards victory will do that.