THE FIGHTING RETREAT.
While I have been telling you about the course of events in the eastern
theatre of war, you have, I am sure, been eager to know how our brave
fellows were faring at Mons. At the end of Chapter IV. you learned that
Sir John French had decided to retreat. No true soldiers ever like to
retreat, least of all British soldiers; but retreat could not now be
avoided unless our little army was to be completely cut off.
You will remember that Sir John received a very belated and most
unexpected telegram from General Joffre at five o'clock on Sunday
afternoon, August 23, 1914. This telegram informed him that the French
on his right were everywhere in retreat, and that the British forces
were threatened by overwhelming numbers of the enemy, who were not only
advancing on their front, but were trying to turn their flanks. By this
time Sir John's air scouts had assured him that General Joffre's
information was correct. To hold on any longer in his present position
would have been reckless folly. The only way to retrieve the fortunes of
the Allies was for the British to fall back to a strong position and
there make a stand.
Every prudent commander prepares for a retreat, for no general can
possibly be sure of winning any battle. Napoleon once said that the
general who went forward without having prepared a line of retreat
deserved to be shot. Wellington, you will remember, retreated from
Quatre Bras, and afterwards won one of the greatest battles of history.
He had previously arranged to meet Blücher and give battle to the French
at Waterloo, where there was ground favourable to him. In the same way
General French had chosen and prepared a second position some miles to
his rear, and to this line he now prepared to retire. In his first
dispatch he tells us that the new position extended from the fortress of
Maubeuge on the east to Jenlain on the west. It was not a good position,
because there were so many standing crops and buildings that the
trenches could not be well placed, and the field of fire was impeded.
There were, however, a few places where the big guns could be posted
well.
[Illustration: Bird's-eye View of the British Line of Retreat from Mons
to La Fère
_By permission of the Sphere_.]
A general order was issued that the troops were to move to the rear at
sunrise on Monday, 24th August; but many of them were roused from their
sleep and sent on their southward march before midnight on the 23rd.
Already the heavy transports and the ambulances filled with wounded were
moving as rapidly as possible towards the new position, so that the
roads might be free for the infantry next day. You can easily understand
that, if the British had been suddenly withdrawn, the Germans would have
swooped down on them while they were marching in columns and unable to
resist. Before the retirement could begin in real earnest our troops
must check the Germans, and thus gain sufficient time to reach the new
position before they were again attacked in force.
You will remember that Binche had been abandoned, and that Sir Douglas
Haig's force had fallen back to a long swell of ground south of the
village of Bray. In the gray dawn of Monday morning the British troops,
who had done a certain amount of fighting during the night, stood to
arms. The Germans were preparing for a great attack on the British
right, and in this direction Sir John French determined to check them.
He ordered the 2nd Division of the First Corps, with a strong support of
more than 120 guns, to advance and make an attack on Binche, as though
they were determined to recapture it. Meanwhile Smith-Dorrien's Second
Corps, which had held the line of the canal, was to fall back some
distance and there form a new battle line, behind which the 1st
Division, which had been so hard pressed during the previous day's
battle, might retire to the new position. When this division was well
upon its way, the Second Corps was to retreat and form up upon its left.
From this brief account of what Sir John proposed to do, you will
understand the great difficulty of the task imposed upon his army. There
is nothing so difficult in warfare as to make a fighting retreat when
pressed by superior numbers. Think of what it means. While one division
is beating back the enemy, another division is marching to the rear; and
when it reaches a certain point it faces about and takes up the work of
holding the foe, while the first division marches to _its_ rear and
prepares to bear the brunt of attack, in order that the second division
may retire and begin the business all over again. In a fighting retreat
there is not a moment's rest for anybody. While one part of the army is
fighting, another part is marching; and no matter how weary the marching
men may be, they must be ready at any moment to form a firing line,
while their comrades in front scramble out of their trenches and hurry
to the rear.
In such a fighting retreat as this the greatest skill and judgment are
required of the commanders. If they withdraw their men from the firing
line too soon, the superior numbers of the enemy will drive them back on
the marching columns and involve both in a common ruin; if they keep
their men too long in the firing line, the enemy will probably destroy
them or cut them off. Any error of judgment on the part of the
commanders during such a retreat is almost sure to be fatal. The men,
too, must be as steady as a rock. They must hold on to their positions,
however hopeless the task may seem, and not budge until the word is
given, even though their comrades are rapidly falling around them.
Happily, in this retreat our commanders were cool and skilful, and our
men were seasoned soldiers, capable of holding on with grim
determination like British bulldogs.
Several times during the retreat small British detachments failed to
receive the order to retire. Probably the messengers carrying the order
were shot or captured on the way. Nevertheless, these groups of men
fought on with never a thought of retreat, until they were reduced to a
mere handful, and further resistance was useless. Other small bodies of
British soldiers lost their way, and some of them wandered into the
German lines and were made prisoners. One man, David M. Kay, of the 5th
Lancers, strayed from his comrades, and, worn out with fatigue, fell
exhausted on the road. Later on he found a resting-place in a deserted
carriage. Thirty-six hours went by, and then the Germans appeared and
fired on him. Though he was alone against an armed host, he returned the
fire and shot down six German officers before he fell, riddled with
bullets. The French in the village hard by were so impressed by his
dauntless courage that they buried him where he fell, and above the
mound that marks his last resting-place set up a wooden cross. For days
afterwards they strewed his grave with fresh flowers.
* * * * *
And now the 1st Division of the First Corps began its feigned attack on
Binche. One hundred and twenty British guns thundered forth, and the
infantry moved briskly towards the enemy. No doubt this attack came as a
great surprise to the Germans, who thought that the British had been
largely reinforced in the night. While the guns were busy belching
shrapnel on the Germans, the 2nd Division of the same corps was marching
southwards. The attack continued until this division was well on its
way, and then came the time for the 1st Division to retire. For the rest
of the morning it slowly moved to the rear, holding back the enemy by
powerful artillery fire, and acting as the rearguard to the whole of the
British right. It reached its new position about seven in the evening.
Now we must see what was happening on the British left, where, as you
will remember, the Second Corps was stationed under Smith-Dorrien. Early
in the morning he fell back some five miles from the line of the Condé
Canal, until his right rested on the mining village of Frameries.[46]
Here he picked up a British infantry brigade, which had been brought by
rail from the lines of communication, and sent it to support his left
flank. His task was to hold back the enemy until the British right had
arrived at the Maubeuge position. He was to keep the enemy busily
engaged all day, so that they could not follow up the British retreat;
and to break off the battle at the most favourable moment, so that he
could retire to the part of the new line which he was to hold.
It was by no means an easy task. He had only between 30,000 and 40,000
men, while the Germans numbered more than 100,000. His position,
however, was a good one. He found a low railway embankment which gave
him a ready-made rampart for the right of his line, and a clear field of
fire all along the front. To his left were many colliery lines, with
similar embankments and buildings that gave a good deal of cover, and
beyond them fields of standing corn.
All the long morning the British held their front against attack after
attack of the enemy, though an awful storm of shrapnel continually burst
upon them. The weakest part of the line was the left, where the Germans
were trying to work round the flank. So fiercely were our troops also
assailed round about Frameries, that about half-past seven in the
morning their general sent an urgent message to the Commander-in-chief
begging for support. Sir John French had no reserves except General
Allenby's cavalry division, and these he now sent to help the
hard-pressed division.
The first of the cavalry to go into action were the 4th Dragoon Guards,
the 9th Lancers, and the 18th Hussars, who were under the command of
Colonel De Lisle, the hero of many a dashing charge in South Africa. At
first the troopers fought on foot, but soon Colonel De Lisle thought
that he saw a good chance of charging the flank of the German infantry.
The men of the 9th Lancers were ordered to mount and prepare to charge,
while the other cavalry regiments acted as supports.
[Illustration: The Charge of the 9th Lancers at Audregnies.
_From the picture by Dudley Tennant._]
Away galloped the lancers, shouting with joy at the prospect of coming
to hand-grips with the enemy. Alas! all unknown to them the Germans had
protected their flank with many lines of barbed wire. When the lancers
were about five hundred yards from the enemy's flank they found
themselves held up by this terrible entanglement. They tried hard to
break through, but in vain, and all the while a death-storm raged about
them from rifle and battery. "We simply galloped like rabbits in front
of a line of guns," said a lancer who survived, "men and horses falling
in all directions." The enemy could not be reached, and nothing could
live in that zone of death. The lancers were forced to retire, and as
they did so the guns caught them on the flank and made awful havoc
amongst them. Only a hundred lancers returned out of eight hundred and
fifty. It was the charge of the Light Brigade at Balaclava all over
again--just as gallant, just as thrilling, and just as useless!
The remnants of the regiment, including the squadron of Captain Francis
Grenfell, found shelter under the lee of a light railway embankment.
Here they found an artillery officer and a dozen gunners of the 119th
Royal Field Artillery, whose battery had been put out of action by
German shells. They were the sole survivors. Captain Grenfell had
already been badly wounded in the hand and the leg, but he was
determined to prevent the guns from falling into the hands of the enemy.
He rode out amidst the hailstorm of shot and shell to see if there was a
way by which they could be withdrawn to the British lines, and having
discovered a road, walked his horse back so that his men might not think
the risk too great.
As soon as he was back under the shelter of the embankment he called for
volunteers. He reminded his lancers that the 9th had saved the guns at
Maiwand,[47] and had more than once come to the rescue of artillery in
South Africa. Every man responded to his call; all were eager to have a
hand in this glorious exploit. Leaving their horses behind them, they
rushed out to the stranded guns; and, working with a will, hauled one of
them over the dead bodies of the drivers, on and on, until it was safe
from capture. Again and again they returned under a merciless fire,
until every gun was out of danger. Hardly had the last gun been moved
into safety when the German infantry appeared. The guns had been saved
in the very nick of time.
Captain Grenfell was afterwards awarded the Victoria Cross for this
splendid deed of courage and resolution. Hats off to Captain Grenfell!
By midday the First Corps was so far in the rear that Smith-Dorrien
could safely begin his retreat. He fell back slowly and steadily, now
and then halting to beat off an attack, and by nightfall reached his new
position, after having suffered great losses. The First Corps lay to the
right of the French village of Bavai, a place of ironworks and marble
quarries. Its flank was protected by the fortress of Maubeuge. The
Second Corps lay to the left, holding a line which extended to the
village of Jenlain. The fortress was a sufficient defence for the right
flank, and Allenby's cavalry division covered the left flank.
On that Monday evening, when some of our men were beginning to entrench
themselves, and to hope that a stand would be made against the enemy on
the morrow, they learned, to their great disappointment, that by five
the next morning they were to be on the road again, trudging towards
another position which lay to the south-west. They were under the
impression that their retirement was at an end, and that the next day
would see them making an advance. Little did they know that they had
only begun their retreat, and that they would have to tramp many a long,
weary mile before that happy hour arrived. Their disappointment soon
vanished when they heard that Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien appeared as
bright and cheerful as ever. "Things can't be bad," they said, "or the
general would be looking more glum than that."
Why was a further retreat necessary? The Commander-in-chief knew what
his men did not know--that the French on his right were still retiring,
and that von Kluck was bringing up more and more men in the hope of
turning his left. He knew that unless he continued his march southwards
he would probably be forced into the fortress of Maubeuge, and his
knowledge of history assured him that once an army takes shelter behind
the guns of a fortress, and is there shut in, it runs but little chance
of ever getting out again. You remember what happened at Metz in 1870.
Bazaine was forced into that fortress, and was so hemmed in that he had
to surrender with 170,000 men. Sir John French was not the man to take
any such risk, so he ordered the retreat to continue.
By sunrise on Tuesday morning our wearied soldiers were tramping along
the dusty roads towards the south-west. As the sun rose higher and
higher in the sky the heat became more and more intense, and the men
felt the strain very much; but they plodded on with that stubbornness
which they always display when they are in a tight place. The First
Corps marched by roads to the east of the Forest of Mormal, a woodland
about one-fifth of the area of our New Forest, and the Second Corps by
roads to the west of it. Allenby's cavalry, which covered the exposed
western flank, had a few skirmishes with Uhlans; but the Germans did not
harass the retreat to any great extent.
An army chaplain gives us a very vivid account of what he saw during the
retirement. He writes as follows:--
"Horses and men, transport and guns, an endless procession they
passed, blackened with grime, bearing evident signs of the past
few days' fighting. But the men were in good spirits. They were
retreating, but this was not a defeated army. 'Wait till we get
to a position we can hold, and then we'll give them socks,' was
the sort of thing one heard from the ranks as they passed. It
was simply glorious country through which we marched--the forest
of Mormal, picturesque villages, quaint old farmhouses, and
village churches dating from the twelfth century; and everywhere
the roads lined with fine avenues of trees--sometimes tall
poplars, and at other times apple and plum trees laden with
fruit. But the country was deserted, crops standing in the
fields, the villages empty, the houses locked and barricaded."
While the columns were on the march German aeroplanes frequently flew
over them. A private of the 1st Royal West Kent Regiment thus describes
a sight which greatly interested him and his comrades:--
"I saw a duel in the air between French and German aeroplanes.
It was wonderful to see the Frenchman manoeuvre to get the upper
position of the German, and after about ten minutes or a quarter
of an hour the Frenchman got on top and blazed away with a
revolver on the German. He injured him so much as to cause him
to descend, and when found he was dead. The British troops
buried the airman and burnt the aeroplane. During that day we
were not troubled by any more German aeroplanes."
[Footnote 46: _Frā-meh-ree´._]
[Footnote 47: Place 35 miles west of Kandahar, Afghanistan; the scene of
a British defeat by the Afghans, July 27, 1880.]