"THE MOST CRITICAL DAY OF ALL."
Now dawned the fateful morning of 26th August 1914. The rain had ceased;
the bright sun shone out; thin mists rose from the wet fields and gave
promise of a sultry day. At sunrise the German guns began to thunder,
and a shrapnel fire burst upon the British as though "turned on through
a hose." The Germans were now determined to make an end of the British
army. It had thwarted them again and again; it had refused to be beaten,
and it would not yield. To-day, however, was to see the end of it. By
nightfall the news of another Sedan would be flashed to all parts of the
rejoicing Fatherland.
Our men had no time to entrench properly. Most of them lay in
unprotected fields; nevertheless they showed, as Sir John French tells
us, "a magnificent front" to the terrific fire that burst upon them.
Smith-Dorrien had been ordered to break off the battle and retire at the
earliest possible moment, but he soon saw that he could not obey orders
without the gravest risk. He must fight on and beat off the Germans
before he could retire in safety.
All day long the British infantry stood firm, firing steadily, and
hurling back attack after attack of the enemy. Six times the Germans
tried to break the British line, and six times they were foiled. German
cavalry attempted to charge them, and once the horsemen of the famous
Prussian Guard--the proudest and finest of all the Kaiser's
troops--burst through an opening in the German firing line and dashed
down on them, only to retire with heavy loss. Another German cavalry
regiment rode right into the 1st Brigade, and was only driven back after
a desperate hand-to-hand struggle, in which men and horses were mixed up
in frightful confusion.
Allenby's cavalry made several gallant charges, and so did Chetwode's
5th Cavalry Brigade, consisting of the Scots Greys, the 12th Lancers,
and the 20th Hussars. An officer tells us that they went through the
enemy "like blotting paper." Though the German cavalry were big men and
well mounted, they could not stand before the onset of our horsemen.
Upon our gunners fell the heaviest task of all. They were hopelessly
outmatched by at least four to one; yet they made a splendid fight, and
inflicted great losses on the foe, though they suffered terribly both in
men and horses. German shells frequently smashed gun carriages and
wheels to matchwood, and strewed the ground with dead and mangled men.
Some of the most heroic deeds ever known were done by our gunners that
day. In one battery, towards the end of the fight a single gun remained
with only one lieutenant and a man to work it. Nevertheless, they stuck
to their posts, and fought their gun to the last.
* * * * *
The terrible day was wearing on; our men were holding their own, but at
a great sacrifice of life and limb. While the Germans were making their
frontal attacks, large bodies of their cavalry, infantry, and artillery
were sweeping round both flanks, and the new Sedan was hourly expected.
Unless the whole British force was to be wiped out, it must retreat; so
about 3.30 in the afternoon Sir John gave the order, and the rearward
movement was begun. It was full of danger, and while it was in progress
our losses were very heavy.
The artillery now made a great effort to cover the retreat, and by
almost superhuman exertions managed to hold off the enemy while the
infantry drew back. Then came the turn of the guns to retire, and to
cover them Allenby's cavalry flung itself against the enemy in a series
of furious charges. Several Victoria Crosses were gloriously won at this
stage of the battle. Thanks to the artillery and the cavalry, all that
was left of the Second Corps got away, and without resting dragged
itself southwards through the August night.
* * * * *
I am sure you will be interested to know what a German officer thought
of our gallant men during this anxious and perilous time. Here is a
report of his conversation with a Dane:--
"After we had broken through the French positions on the Belgian
frontier, and had got Joffre's army on the move towards the
south, the German army's advance appeared to be checked. It was
General French's army that had stayed the retreat. We ordered
the English lines to be stormed. Our troops dashed into them
with fixed bayonets, but our efforts to drive the English back
were in vain. They are very good at resisting a bayonet attack.
The English are strong people, athletic and well-developed. So
we decided to shoot them down; but we found that they aimed
remarkably well. 'Every bullet found its billet,' as they say.
"We ordered our best shots to tackle them, but the result was
not in our favour. Then we got all our artillery at work that
could be spared against them. We swept the English positions
with a rain of shells--a regular bombardment. When the firing
ceased, we expected to find that the English had fled. . . . We
had not heard from them for an hour.
"How can I describe our astonishment? Beyond the shell-swept
zone we saw English soldiers' heads moving, and they began to
use their rifles again as soon as the coast was clear. The
English _are_ a cool lot! We had to assault them again and
again, but in vain. We were, in fact, repulsed after having
actually surrounded them. Their perseverance and pluck had
gained their just reward. Their retirement could now be carried
out in an orderly way. There was now no fear of disaster to the
retreating army.
"Even the sight of the wounded surprised us, and commanded our
respect; they lay so still, and scarcely ever complained."
I think you will agree with me that the German who paid this tribute to
our men was a generous foe and a true soldier.
* * * * *
Here is an extract from the diary of a cavalry officer of the 3rd
Cavalry Brigade. It gives you an excellent idea of the way in which the
cavalry covered the retreat.
"Up and ready to move off at 4.30 a.m. Moved back to Le Cateau.
Did not enter the actual town, but went round the high ground to
the south of it, and took up a position on the west of it. Great
battle going on. Fifth Infantry Division having a bad time of
it, and retiring. We cover their retirement. My squadron on high
ground overlooking a railway embankment. See German infantry
advancing towards it in columns. G.O.C.,[53] on my reporting
this, sends me a section of guns under 'John' G. Pointed out
target to him, which he picks up and gets the range at once;
smartest bit of R.H.A.[54] work one could wish to see. . . .
Every shot seems to have effect. I was carefully watching
through my glasses; they must have lost at least a couple of
hundred. I could see their dead and wounded lying all over the
field. Anyhow, they stopped their advance in that direction, and
our infantry opposing them were enabled to get away. Awfully
impressed with the way this section of R.H.A. was handled by
'John' G. . . .
"We retire in a westerly direction, and manoeuvre on the flank
of the 5th Infantry Division. Late in the afternoon we see in
the distance a division of Uhlans. The general tells us he has
decided to take them on; but we shall charge at the trot, as our
horses are dead beat. We, the 3rd Cavalry Brigade, manoeuvre and
get the favourable ground; and the Uhlans, after having a look
at us, refuse the fight we offer and disappear. Cowards! Fancy a
division refusing to take on a brigade! Great disappointment
among all ranks, as we are all longing for a cavalry fight. . . .
"We retire to ----, where we arrive about 11 p.m., and halt to
water and feed the horses. Get some food. Every one awfully
tired--raining hard. The orders come that we are to march at 1
a.m. Explain to the men we are in rather a tight place, and that
in spite of fatigue every one must buck up. Men lie down on the
pavements and hold their horses. What a sight! Men and horses
absolutely exhausted, but yet there is that spirit of
cheerfulness which never fails Tommy Atkins even under such
conditions as these. It is apparent to every one that we have
taken the I 'knock;' with most armies one would say beaten, but
with Tommy Atkins you can't say that, as it would not be true,
as the only way to defeat him is to kill him; otherwise, he just
goes on suffering every hardship _without_ a grumble, and then,
when you think he is absolutely done, he turns round and hits
you. People at home don't realize and understand what heroes the
men are--brave, suffering every hardship without a grumble,
loyal, and in the highest sense true, typical Britons."
* * * * *
The fateful day had passed; the little British army, though its ranks
were sorely thinned, was still unbroken and undefeated. Smith-Dorrien's
corps had made a stand which will go down to history as a triumph of
valour and endurance. It had resisted an army that outnumbered it by ten
to one, and it had handled it very roughly indeed. All honour to the men
who fought and died at Le Cateau that day, and all honour to the cool,
determined, and unconquerable general who commanded them! Sir Horace
Smith-Dorrien has written his name high on the scroll of fame, and
henceforth he stands in our annals side by side with Sir John Moore[55]
of undying memory. His proud boast is that he saved the left wing of the
British army, and by doing so made the German conquest of France
impossible.
* * * * *
Sir John French tells us that the retreat was continued far into the
night of the 26th and through the 27th and 28th. The cavalry officer
quoted above gives us a vivid picture of the weariness of his men and
horses, and from the stories of others who took part in the retreat we
learn that it was just as trying as the battle itself. The night was
black dark, the rain was falling heavily, and the narrow roads were
choked with guns, transport, and infantry. The men had to be shaken out
of their sleep, but once on their feet they marched steadily.
[Illustration: General Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien, G.C.B., D.S.O.
_Photo, Russell._
Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien commanded the Second Army Corps during the
retreat from Mons. Sir John French, in his dispatch of September 7,
ascribed to him the salvation of the left wing of the British army, and
described him as "a commander of rare and unusual coolness, intrepidity,
and determination." Had the left wing been rolled up, the rout of the
whole Allied army would probably have followed.]
"There was never a halt nor a pause, though horses dropped
between the shafts, and men sat down exhausted by the roadside.
A heavy gun overturned in a ditch, but it was impossible to stay
and get it out; so it was rendered useless, and the disconsolate
gunners trekked on. When the horses could draw their loads no
longer, the loads were cast by the roadside. . . . I cannot give
a connected account of that night. The overpowering desire for
sleep, the weariness and ache of every fibre, and the thirst! I
had forgotten to be hungry, and had got past food; but I
thirsted as I have only thirsted once before, and that was in
the desert near Khartum."
On moved the columns, almost at the last gasp, but still undaunted and
bent on winning through. When the dreadful night was over, and dawn
broke over the hills, men looked at each other and marvelled at the
change wrought in their appearance by the terrible experiences which
they had undergone. They were as worn and gaunt as though they were
recovering from a serious illness.
* * * * *
Let me tell you a little story, to show the splendid self-restraint of
our men even when they were suffering agonies of thirst.
"Soon after sunrise," says an officer, "we came up with two of
our ambulance wagons and one of our filter water-carts. The
wounded were in such a state of exhaustion with the long trek
and the awful jolting of the wagons that it was decided to make
some beef-tea for them, and a major rode ahead to find some farm
where water could be boiled. He had hardly gone when a battalion
of exhausted infantry came up, and as soon as they saw the
water-carts made a dash for them. Hastily I rode up to them, and
told them that there was very little water left in the carts,
and that it was needed for their wounded comrades. 'I am thirsty
myself,' I said, 'and I am awfully sorry for you chaps; but you
see how it is--the wounded must come first.'
"'Quite right, sir,' was the ready response. 'Didn't know it was
a hospital water-cart;' and, without a murmur, they went thirsty
on their way."
* * * * *
All night long the Germans pressed closely on the British rear, and they
were able to capture stragglers and detachments that had missed their
way. Amongst these was a battalion of Gordon Highlanders who had taken
the wrong road. Between one and two o'clock in the morning, when they
were marching down a narrow lane, they were fired at from the left. They
were under the impression that they had been fired on accidentally by
the French, whom they supposed to be near at hand. They were mistaken.
Dark shadowy masses of the enemy closed around them and attacked them in
front, rear, and flanks. The Gordons made a gallant resistance, but in
vain. They were shot down in heaps, and in a few minutes all were
killed, wounded, or prisoners.
* * * * *
Still the British army dragged its slow length along the belt of low
upland on which the Scheldt and the Sambre take their rise, and on
Thursday morning, August 28, arrived a little to the north of St.
Quentin,[56] which stands on rising ground on the right bank of the
Somme. By this time the weight of the enemy's pursuit had been shaken
off, and the wearied men could rest for a time in safety. The four days'
battle, which began at noon on Sunday, 23rd August, had ended. The
British army had emerged with fresh laurels from a great ordeal.
[Illustration: How the Guards held Landrecies on the night of August 25,
1914.
A description of this incident is given on pp. 93 and 94. As a result of
this magnificent defence the German vanguard was checked. "It had
miscalculated the strength of British valour and endurance."]
[Footnote 53: General Officer Commanding.]
[Footnote 54: Royal Horse Artillery.]
[Footnote 55: British general (b. 1761, d. 1809), hero of the famous
retreat from Astorga to Corunna (1809). He was shot at the moment when
the British, in sight of the sea, faced about and drove off the French,
and was buried in the citadel at Corunna, in the north-west of Spain.
See the famous verses, _Burial of Sir John Moore_, by Wolfe.]
[Footnote 56: _San-kan-tan´_ (the _n_'s are sounded nasally).]