DAYS OF STRUGGLE AND ANXIETY.--II.
The Germans now opened the nozzles of the gas tubes in front of their
trenches and sent a cloud of poisonous vapour against the Indians. The
wretched victims suffered horribly, and the survivors had to retire
through the deadly gas amidst bursting shells and the incessant fire of
machine guns and rifles. It was during this retirement that Jemadar Mir
Dast won the Victoria Cross, as you will read later.
That night the northern side of the salient fell back. Fighting still
went on; there were attacks and counter-attacks without number, and the
Germans ceaselessly shelled our front. By this time there were many
Territorial regiments holding the northern face of the salient, and
right gallantly did they behave. The salient was now an oblong of so
awkward a shape that the front had to be shortened. "The old Ypres
salient was such a silly thing;" it had always been a danger, and now it
was more perilous than ever. Accordingly, preparations were made to
withdraw the whole line until the salient became an easy curve, with its
outer line three miles from Ypres.
Before, however, this could be done, the Germans made another gas
attack, both against the French on the Ypres Canal and against our
troops lying behind Fortuin. The French were ready for it, and their
75's took a terrible toll of the enemy. Our men were also ready for it:
they were now provided with respirators--not yet of the best pattern,
but good enough to save them from the worst effects of the gas. The 12th
Brigade suffered most, and was obliged to give way a little. The 2nd
Seaforths and the 10th Brigade did not move at all. The Seaforths'
doctor, Lieutenant Jones, behaved with wonderful courage; although badly
"gassed," he stuck to his work for two whole days. One Territorial
battalion--the 7th Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders--actually charged
through the gas and captured a German trench.
Many other striking deeds of valour were done on that day. A huge shell
fell into a trench held by the 1st Rifle Brigade and buried Captain
Ralston alive. He was dug out only to be hit by the fragment of a shell,
and by this time there were only three men left in the trench. Though
shell after shell continued to drop into it, the four men still fought
on until their rifles were too hot to hold. They snatched up the weapons
of the dead and took the full cartridge clips from the bodies of the
slain, and by so doing managed to keep up such a continuous fire that
the Germans believed the trench to be held by a full company. Ralston
and his men ran up and down the trench, stumbling over sand-bags,
tripping over heaps of blown-in earth, and falling over their dead
comrades. They fired first from one point and then from another, and in
this way "bluffed" the Germans and held the trench until nightfall, when
reinforcements came up. Three men and one officer had baffled swarms of
Germans!
Later on we shall read how Private Lynn, of the 2nd Lancashire
Fusiliers, won the Victoria Cross by keeping his gun in action while
enveloped in the deadly gas. I could fill many pages with stories of men
who did miracles of heroism during this awful time.
On 3rd May we shortened our line. The 12th Brigade at the pivot held
fast. During the night, while picked riflemen from each company fired on
the enemy, battalions were withdrawn piecemeal, in perfect order, and
with no losses. You can form some idea of the skill with which this
retirement was conducted when I tell you that in some places our
trenches were within ten yards of those of the enemy. All the wounded,
except a few who were too far gone to be moved, were safely carried to
the rear, and in this merciful work the R.A.M.C. covered itself with
glory. Long lines of stretcher-bearers bore the stricken men, swiftly
and silently, from cellars and dug-outs, along the dark roads until they
were out of danger from shell fire. Some 780 of them were thus carried
into safety, and not one of them was lost.
[Illustration: "All that was left of them."
(_By permission of The Illustrated London News._)
When the wearied Canadians appeared on the outskirts of Ypres after
their heroic struggle, their British comrades in the town turned out in
crowds, lined the streets, and cheered and cheered again. The pipers of
a Highland regiment put themselves at the head of the Canadian Scottish,
and amidst scenes of great enthusiasm played them through the streets
into camp.]
Many of our men were reluctant to leave their trenches, especially those
on which they had spent much time and labour. One man solemnly cleaned
and swept his dug-out before saying good-bye to it. In one trench held
by a score of picked shots belonging to the 2nd Cheshires, one man did
not receive the order to retire. For a whole hour he remained and
continued to fire--one man against the whole army of Wurtemberg! At last
he discovered that he was alone, and then, and only then, did he follow
his comrades. Not until the early morning of the 4th did the Germans
know that we had retired. For hours before they had been busy shelling
our empty trenches.
The map on page 213 shows you how the new line ran. You will notice that
it was much easier to hold than the old salient, which had been
hopelessly knocked out of shape. The Germans now began to batter at the
new line, and especially at the portion between the pivot and the
Ypres-Menin road. On the 8th they attacked furiously, and though some of
our battalions fought almost to the last man, the centre was all but
driven in. The 1st Welsh, however, refused to budge. They sent message
after message back that they were holding a hot corner, but that they
were very comfortable and could "stick it" as long as was necessary. No
fewer than 900 shells were flung into the trenches of the 9th Argyll and
Sutherland Highlanders, but the men did not yield a single inch. On that
day they lost Colonel James Clark, their well-beloved leader, who in
days of peace was Chairman of the Edinburgh School Board.
It was now time to withdraw the 28th Division. It had fought without a
pause from 22nd April to 12th May, and had suffered almost as severely
as the famous 7th Division at the First Battle of Ypres. Cavalry
divisions took over its trenches, and the weary and much-battered
survivors went into billets for greatly-needed rest. Still the fierce
contest continued. The cavalry were terribly assailed, and on 13th May
the artillery fire was so deadly that the 7th Brigade, lying to the
north of the lake which you see on our eastern front, had to fall back,
leaving an ugly rent in the line. Troops were hurried up to fill the
gap, and at 2.30 the 8th Brigade, assisted by armoured motor cars, made
a charge that will go down to history. The dismounted cavalrymen
advanced as if on parade; they swept forward, utterly regardless of
death, and won back the lost ground. But no soldiers that ever wore
uniform could have held on to the position in face of the awful fire of
the German guns. Our men did all that men could do, but they had to
retire; and when the muster roll was read, the regiments which had taken
part in this glorious but unavailing charge were found to be but shadows
of their former strength.
[Illustration: Second Battle of Ypres.
Sketch showing the shortening of the line on May 3, 1915.]
The infantry on our left were also fiercely attacked, but they managed
to hold their ground. The Territorial battalions on this part of our
front fought like veterans. Sergeant Douglas Belcher, with six men,
repeated the exploit of Captain Ralston, and nobly won the Victoria
Cross for saving the flank of his division (see page 218). The 2nd Essex
cleared the Germans out of Shell-trap Farm at the point of the bayonet,
and held on to the ruins all day. Like the Welsh, they were quite
cheerful under their ordeal, and one of them swam to and fro across the
moat carrying messages to headquarters.
[Illustration: The Northumberland Fusiliers (the Fighting Fifth) beating
off a German Attack.
(_From the picture by Philip Dadd. By permission of The Sphere._)
"It was in the early hours of morning that the Germans began to attack
us in force. They battered our entanglements and our trench breastwork
for some time, and part of the entanglements was actually blown across
the trenches. Fortunately, we were able to meet them with steady and
continuous rifle fire, and stopped the rush. . . . . In some cases the
Germans were so bunched together that our men simply fired into the
brown, it being impossible to miss them at such close range."]
The great battle was now ebbing away into a series of lesser
engagements. As we shall learn later, the Allies had begun to make a
big thrust near Festubert and towards Lens. The Germans had been obliged
to send some of their heavy guns to the south, and the artillery fire on
the Ypres salient consequently slackened. But before the battle ended
the Germans made one more attempt--and this the most terrible of all--to
shatter our lines. Again they used the foul weapon by which they had won
ground at the outset of the struggle.
On the early morning of Monday, 24th May, when the sky was cloudless and
a light north-easterly breeze was blowing, they released gas against our
front from Shell-trap Farm to the lake. The wind carried the poisonous
vapour towards the south-west, and it rolled over nearly five miles of
our trenches in a cloud which in some places was forty feet high. For
four and a half hours the gas surged towards us. Where our men were
quick to don their respirators, they were able to hold their ground; but
where there was delay, they suffered horribly. After the gas came a
violent bombardment from three points of the compass, and in various
places our line was pushed in until three dangerous salients appeared.
British steadfastness, however, prevailed. Except in two places, our
lines remained intact. The 9th Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders, the
2nd Royal Irish, and the 9th Lancers lost very heavily. Amongst those
who fell was Captain Francis Grenfell, who had already won the Victoria
Cross for a splendid deed of pluck and coolness, which I described on
page 88 of our second volume.
* * * * *
The Second Battle of Ypres was over. It was not so full of danger to us
as the first battle, but it will be ever memorable because, for the
first time in the warfare of civilized men, a foul and deadly weapon had
been used. You must have noticed, in reading these pages, how the
Germans relied on machinery to overcome us. High-explosive shells and
poison gas--these were the weapons which they believed would give them
victory. During the Second Battle of Ypres the German infantry made few
serious attacks, and when they did so they were almost destroyed to a
man. Cannot you imagine the anguish of our brave fellows assailed by gas
and shell fire and unable to reach their foes? Many of them, goaded to
madness, stood up on their parapets and challenged the enemy to come on.
Some of the Germans accepted the challenge; our men cheered, and then
swept them to earth. It was the Second Battle of Ypres which taught us
how inferior we were to the Germans in machinery, and our bitter
experience had much to do with the formation of the National Government
and the setting up of a Ministry of Munitions.
We lost ground in front of Ypres, and we lost tens of thousands of
gallant men; but we had something to be proud of when the end came. We
knew that our soldiers, man for man, were superior to the Germans, and
we were specially proud of our Territorials--not only of the Canadians,
but of the miners of South Wales and North England, the hinds and
tradesmen of the Scottish Lowlands, the shepherds and gamekeepers of the
Highlands, the clerks and tradesmen of our great cities. A few short
months ago they had been working in the mine, the field, the factory,
the shop, and the office, never dreaming that they would be called on to
ply rifle and bayonet in a life-and-death struggle for all that they
held dear. But in front of Ypres they bore themselves as though war had
ever been their business, and they fought and died with a heroism that
must never be forgotten. They went down into the Valley of the Shadow of
Death, and some of them came out of it silent, weary, sick at heart; but
no man of them felt his faith falter, and all were determined that
never, while God gave them the strength to pull a trigger, should the
foul foe prevail.
* * * * *
The beautiful little city of Ypres, famous as far back as the days of
Chaucer, and adorned with old-time buildings that were the gift of the
ages to the modern world, was now a heap of ruins. German guns had
shattered it beyond repair. It resembled a city destroyed by an
earthquake--a rubbish heap, with here and there a few gaping walls and
shot-rent towers brooding over the desolation like gaunt skeletons.
Never while our Empire endures--and God grant that it may be for
aye--can Ypres and the blood-sodden meadows that lie eastward of the
city be anything but holy ground to the British people. For ever the
city and its neighbourhood will be sacred to the memory of our glorious
British dead.