When the Germans entered Warsaw the German High Command had to decide

what the next move was to be. Should they entrench on the ground already

won, and make the line of the Niemen, the Narev, and the Vistula a great

bulwark of defence which would defy all Russian counter-attacks for many

a day to come, or should they push their armies forward? There were good

reasons why a halt should be called on the river line. The troops were

weary with long months of fighting, and badly needed rest. On the other

hand, the Russian armies were not crushed, but it seemed likely that

another big push would destroy them altogether. With Warsaw gone, the

southern railway cut, and the Narev line crumbling, it appeared almost

impossible for the Russians to escape. The army in Courland was almost

within striking distance of the Petrograd railway, and once this was

captured in the neighbourhood of Dvinsk and Vilna, the whole Russian

front would be split up into separate armies, each of which might be

destroyed. Another great effort, and the Tsar would be on his knees

suing for peace.

The die was now cast; the Germans decided to push forward. The Russians

were in perilous plight; for on the right the Germans bade fair to

envelop their armies, and in the centre von Mackensen was thrusting them

back towards the Marshes of the Pripet, in which they might be caught.

The Grand Duke's business was to get his armies away eastward, and to

refuse at all costs to fight pitched battles. In this he succeeded, and

by doing so wrote his name high on the roll of great generals.

You will remember that the bridges across the Vistula at Warsaw had been

blown up. Prince Leopold now collected a number of the thousand-ton

barges which ply on the river, and constructed a floating bridge, across

which he carried a railway line. By 10th August he began to advance; but

he found himself constantly held up by Russian attacks, and he made but

slow progress. By 16th August von Gallwitz was across the Petrograd

line, and von Mackensen was within twenty miles of Brest Litovski. The

Russians had already fallen back, and were lying in front of the railway

from Ossowietz through Bialystok to Brest. They were, however, still

holding out in front of the old city and fortress of Kovno.

Glance at the position of Kovno. You see (page 311) that it stands on

the Niemen, at the point where the course of the river swings to the

south. Should Kovno fall, the other fortresses on the Niemen would be in

great peril, and the enemy would have a direct route to Vilna, where

they would be in the rear of the Russians. On the day that Warsaw fell,

the Germans were near enough to Kovno to begin the bombardment. For

twelve days they rained shells upon the forts, while the infantry fought

for the outworks. By this time the city had been stripped, and its

valuable contents had been sent eastwards. Nevertheless it had to be

held while arrangements were made for the Russian line to retire. The

gunners in Kovno stuck to their posts for twelve desperate days, and all

the time the big siege howitzers of the enemy played havoc among them.

Nevertheless, the Russians held on, and, what is more, continued to work

their guns.

By Sunday, 15th August, the forts were in ruins, and two days later the

heroic garrison yielded. The Germans claimed 20,000 prisoners and over

200 guns. The Russians, however, were fully prepared for this loss. The

holding of Kovno was a forlorn hope, and the men and guns in it were

sacrificed to gain time.

The fall of Kovno meant that the Russian right must now retire, and a

day later it was clear that the centre must retire too. The Germans had

cut the railway to the north of Brest, and were now attacking the

western forts of the stronghold. Next day Novo Georgievsk, which had

been besieged for about three weeks and was now a huddle of ruins, had

to yield, and 20,000 of the garrison, along with 700 guns, most of which

had been rendered useless, fell into the hands of the Germans. Shortly

before the surrender, a daring Russian aviator was entrusted with the

maps and secret papers of the fortress. He ascended, and though

furiously assailed by the anti-aircraft guns of the enemy, managed to

fly clear and carry the precious documents into safety.

Two of the three great fortresses forming the Polish triangle had now

gone; Brest alone remained, and its doom was already sealed. While the

Russians were preparing for a further retirement, their right, which

rested on the Baltic Sea, was threatened with a new danger. On Sunday,

10th August, a German fleet tried to force a way into the Gulf of Riga;

it was beaten off, but the attempt was renewed on the 15th and on the

16th. During a thick fog the Germans got into the Gulf on the 16th, and

two days later tried to land troops at an unfortified port on the road

to Petrograd. Four very large flat-bottomed barges, filled with troops,

attempted to get ashore on the 20th; but the Russian light craft swooped

down upon them, and captured or destroyed the whole of the landing

force. Meanwhile a naval battle was going on throughout the length of

the Gulf. The Russians lost an old gunboat, while the Germans had eight

destroyers and two cruisers either sunk or put out of action, and a

submarine driven ashore. On the 21st the Germans left the Gulf. Their

attempt to outflank the Russian right had failed.

During the previous twenty days the Germans in the centre had pushed

forward no less than one hundred miles; but the Russian armies had

eluded them, and no crushing battle had taken place. The Germans had not

yet given up all hope of overwhelming the Russians, but for the time

being they were anxious to secure a strong line on which they might

maintain themselves during the coming winter. They had also a new

campaign in view. Already they were thinking of forcing a way through

the Balkans to Constantinople, so as to open a road to the east and

fling such forces into Gallipoli as would drive the British and French

into the sea.

Now we must return to the doomed fortress of Brest. On the day that the

German warships left the Gulf of Riga, Prince Leopold was close to the

western walls of the fortress, while von Mackensen, east of the Bug, was

threatening to take the forts from the rear. On 25th August Brest

Litovski fell. It had held out long enough to enable the Russians to get

away with the guns and supplies, and only a little wheat was left

behind. Soon after the Germans entered the place a mine exploded and

destroyed a thousand of their troops.

[Illustration: Map illustrating the various Stages of the Russian

Retreat.

A, after the fall of Lemberg; B, after the fall of Warsaw; C, after the

fall of Grodno; D, after the fall of Vilna.]

You will see from the map on page 311 that the Russians, who had been

holding the front around Brest, could use two railways to help them in

their retreat. Most of them, however, had to retire on foot through the

Marshes of the Pripet. Prince Leopold, in following them up, had to

fight his way through the great forest region which lies to the north of

Brest. It is said that in the recesses of this forest the European

bison, elsewhere extinct, is still found. In the woods on the edges of

the marshes the Russian rearguards fought fierce delaying actions, while

their comrades trudged, unhasting but unresting, eastwards. Happily, the

summer had been fairly dry, and it was possible for large numbers of men

and guns to cross the swamps. By the end of August the Germans were

thirty miles east of Brest, and were well within the marshy region.

Meanwhile, the chief interest of the struggle lay in the north. On 28th

August von Buelow began his great attack on the line of the Dvina. In

all the valley of that river, from Dvinsk to Riga, there is no crossing

save at the little town of Friedrichstadt, some fifty miles from the

coast. Below the town great stretches of marshy forest line the left

bank of the stream, and no road follows its course on that side. On the

other side the ground is harder, and along the line of the river runs

the main Riga-Vilna Railway. The Russians held the left bank of the

river, and von Buelow urged his men to the assault in the following

words: "After the brilliant campaign on the Russian front, and the

occupation of many cities and fortresses, you must make one more effort

to force the Dvina and seize Riga. There you will rest during the autumn

and winter, in order to march on Petrograd in the spring." On the

morning of 2nd September the Russians were forced back for ten miles

from the left bank of the river; but the bridgehead at Friedrichstadt

still held out.

* * * * *

With the close of August the worst was over, and the turn of the tide

had come. The tornado had blown itself out, the skies were clearing, and

those who had been hurled back by the mighty blast were able to keep

their feet and hold their own once more. The Russian line was nearly

straight; the wings were hard pressed, but they could still resist; and

the centre was too far within the Pripet marshes for easy capture. The

struggle for dear life was over. Thenceforward the Russians were masters

of their fate. They could retreat when and where they chose into the

limitless expanses of their land. If they halted to fight a battle, it

was because they saw some advantage to be gained, not because they were

compelled to do so.

[Illustration: The Tsar and Tsarevitch with the Russian Army.

(_By permission of The Sphere._)

The Tsarevitch, the eldest son of the Tsar, is the Grand Duke Alexis,

who was born on August 12, 1904. He was therefore eleven years old when,

on September 5, 1915, his father took command of the Russian armies.

Both father and son are seen wearing the uniform of the Caucasian

Cossacks.]

With the passing of all immediate danger, confidence surged up in their

breasts, and at this moment the Tsar placed himself at the head of his

soldiers. "We shall," he said, "fulfil our sacred duty to defend our

country to the last." The Grand Duke Nicholas, who had so long borne the

heat and burden of the day, gladly yielded place to his sovereign. Twice

before in the history of Russia had a Tsar come forward to lead his

armies in the day of dire peril. What Peter[59] and Alexander I.[60] had

done, Nicholas II. now did. It was a sign to the whole Russian people

that the war was to be waged to a triumphant end. The Germans were

prepared to make a separate peace with Russia; they believed her to be

crushed and broken and war-weary. Now came the reply: the Tsar, the head

and front of Russia both in Church and in State, followed the example of

his forefathers in the hour of trial and took chief command.

* * * * *

Look carefully at the large map on page 311, and find Grodno, on the

Niemen. At the end of August the Russians were holding a salient round

this fortress. September was but three days old when Grodno fell, and

the Russians had to retire in order to avoid being surrounded. They had

two railways to help them in their retreat--the main line to Petrograd

and a line connecting with the Riga-Vilna-Rovno Railway. At all costs

the enemy must be held back from these railways until the guns, troops,

and stores in and around Grodno could be got away. Rearguards behind

Grodno and a screen of troops farther north, where the Germans had to

cross a district of lakes and forests, fought gallantly, and by 12th

September the salient was clear. The Germans claimed to have captured

4,000 prisoners; but even if they did so, the price was not too high to

pay for the safety of the army corps that escaped.

Now we must turn to Vilna, against which von Hindenburg had prepared a

great thrust. On 2nd September a ten days' struggle began fifteen miles

to the north-west of the city. By sheer weight of artillery the trenches

of the Russians were carried, and a gas attack gave the Germans an

important pass between a group of lakes which formed the main defence of

the fortress on their left. Other forces were pushing up from the south,

and retreat was again necessary. By the 13th it was clear that Vilna

must fall. The Germans had cut the Petrograd railway only twenty miles

from the city.

[Illustration: The Coming of the Big Guns that mean Victory.

(_By permission of The Illustrated London News._)

Russian artillery being hauled through the snow to the battlefield by

long teams of horses. By September 1915 the Russians had managed to

provide themselves with sufficient artillery and ammunition to meet the

Germans on equal terms.]

The forces in front of Vilna had only one good railway line by which

they could retire eastward, and only one good road--a causeway running

across the marshes towards Minsk. On 15th September it was discovered

that some 40,000 German cavalry, with 140 guns, were sweeping round so

as to cut the railway and capture the causeway. Here was a terrible

danger. If the cavalry could hold the railway and the causeway, the

Russians in the Vilna salient would be surrounded, and nothing could

save them. Not an hour must be lost. Vilna was abandoned on 18th

September, and the troops were hurried eastwards by means of the road

and railway. Rearguards on the right fought desperate holding battles,

but on the 20th the gap through which the Russians were retreating had

shrunk to little more than fifty miles. The Minsk railway was in danger;

only the causeway, densely packed with guns, wagons, convoys,

ambulances, and troops, was clear.

Suddenly, in this moment of peril, the German thrust weakened. While the

cavalry were sweeping round to the rear, the artillery and infantry to

the west of the fortress made no push. Owing to the bad and crowded

roads they could only proceed very slowly, and thus the Russians were

afforded what they most needed--time. No longer were they without arms

and ammunition. The Russian factories had worked miracles, and now the

Tsar's armies were able to meet the enemy on equal terms. On the evening

of 20th September, when the retreating Russians were thirty miles east

of Vilna, their right wing fell upon the German cavalry and drove them

back with the bayonet. For some days there was heavy fighting, but by

the end of the month the Russian line was straight again. Once more the

Germans had been foiled.

Meanwhile the army of Brest, which had never been in serious danger, had

been pursued, but the pursuers were now firmly held. On the Dvina von

Buelow had made but little progress, while in the south Ivanov had held

his ground, and had even won victories against the German right. He had

overthrown a force moving against Tarnopol and another which was

advancing further south, and had won one of the most successful of the

smaller battles. Of course the Germans had made counter-attacks upon

him, but they had been unsuccessful, and Ivanov had advanced in some

places as much as twenty miles. His captures at the end of the month

amounted to 80,000 men and many guns.

Thus the end of September saw the Germans held in check. They had won

Vilna and Grodno, but they had failed to cut off the troops in these

salients, and had not made good the line of the Dvina. Winter was almost

upon them, yet they had not found a suitable position for winter

quarters. Meanwhile the Russians were growing in strength every day.

* * * * *

During the terrible months from May till September the nation had

suffered greatly, and misfortune had been heaped on misfortune. The

spectacle of troops falling back day by day, the endless stream of

wounded arriving at the bases, the highroads thronged with homeless

peasants, and the seeming hopeless struggle would have broken down the

spirit of most nations and brought about revolution; but in Russia,

though there was some unrest, there was no revolution. Even the peasants

who had lost their all, and had not where to lay their heads, bore their

sufferings without complaint. A correspondent who talked with some of

them tells us they felt that they were playing their part in defeating

the hated enemy, as their fathers had done before them. They hoped for

an early winter in order that their enemy might perish of cold and

starvation, and they thought nothing of the sufferings that the winter

would bring to them and their children. "I have heard them say again and

again: 'We must win now, regardless of the cost and the time it takes.

The sacrifices we have suffered are too great for us to hesitate at

anything short of victory.'"

* * * * *

When the German cavalry were flung back from the rear of Vilna, the

retreating Russians once more breathed freely. The end of the summer

campaign had come, and still the Germans had delivered no smashing blow.

During the month of October von Hindenburg strove fiercely to carry the

line of the Dvina, in order to secure Dvinsk and Riga as winter

quarters. The Russian right lay on the sea, and behind the river

stretched a wilderness of marsh and lake almost impassable for troops

and big guns. Riga and the line of the river south of it were defended

by great stretches of bogland, and the patches of dry ground were cut up

by many sluggish streams flowing in reedy channels. General Ruzsky, who

was holding Dvinsk, had learned the lesson of Verdun and pushed out his

defences far from the city. In the course of a big attack on 26th

September the Germans came within eight miles of the fortress, but they

could approach no nearer. An attempt to reach Riga by the coast road was

foiled by the guns of the Russian fleet.

On 3rd October von Hindenburg began a new series of thrusts against the

line of the river, but made very little progress, and when the Russian

counter-attacks began the German losses were very great. Before long

50,000 of the enemy had fallen, and their goal was as far off as ever.

Von Hindenburg now saw that he could not succeed against Dvinsk, and

began a determined effort to capture Riga. He managed to win a marshy

island in one of the arms of the river; but here he was stayed, and soon

his troops were blown off the island. He was now fighting an army that

was as strong as his own and could return shell for shell and shot for

shot. By the end of October all his efforts against Dvinsk and Riga had

come to nothing, and he was forced to dig in for the winter in a most

inhospitable land. The snows were beginning to fall, bitter north winds

were sweeping over the land, and no great movement was possible until

the spring.

So the tragic year came to an end. The Russians had passed through their

fiery ordeal, and had emerged with a new courage and a new hope. On the

map the Germans looked like victors, but actually they had failed. The

Russian armies were intact; the Germans could not push on in the

wilderness, and at the close of the year they lay waiting the uncertain

future amidst dismal swamps and meres.

[Footnote 59: In 1707, when Charles XII. of Sweden invaded Russia and

bade fair to overrun the country, Peter the Great put himself at the

head of his army, and on July 5, 1709, inflicted a great defeat on the

Swedes and drove them out of the country.]

[Footnote 60: In 1812, when Napoleon invaded Russia and marched to

Moscow (see Vol. I., p. 64), Alexander I. placed himself at the head of

the army, and by wasting the country forced Napoleon to retreat.]

CHAPTER XLI.

MIDSUMMER ON THE WESTERN FRONT.

Three days after the Battle of Festubert[61] came to an end, another

European nation flung itself into the welter of strife. Italy declared

war on Austria. The story of why she did so, and how she fared during

the year 1915, will be told in our next volume. We may safely postpone

an account of the Italian campaign, for, like our great adventure in

Gallipoli, it was a side-show. Nevertheless it employed no less than

twelve Austrian army corps, and thus largely reduced the forces which

the enemy could employ in France and Flanders and the Eastern theatre of

war.

Italy set herself the very difficult task of conquering the

Trentino,[62] and in order to do so had to force the barrier of the

Alps. For six months she fought with great firmness and much sacrifice

amidst lofty snowclad mountains, and battered unceasingly at the great

Austrian fortresses established amongst them. By the end of the year her

soldiers had occupied a rich and well-populated portion of what the

Italians call "Unredeemed Italy," had secured their northern flank, and

had firmly established themselves along the line of the river

Isonzo.[63] They had also captured 30,000 of the enemy, 5 guns, 65 Maxim

guns, thousands of rifles, and a great deal of other war material, and

were in a favourable position for an advance in the spring. Should this

advance be successful, Austria would lose her two great seaports, and,

except along the coast of Dalmatia,[64] would be cut off from the sea.

* * * * *

July was but nine days old when good news arrived from South Africa. The

Union forces under General Botha[65] had conquered German South-West

Africa,[66] and the colony had passed into British hands. The story can

wait until our next volume, in which we shall survey the progress of our

arms not only in "German South-West," as South Africans call it, but in

the Cameroons and in German East Africa as well. From the first the

Germans knew that their overseas possessions were doomed. Powerless on

the ocean, they were utterly cut off from their colonies. Their overseas

forces were fighting, as it were, in water-tight compartments, without

hope of reinforcements or supplies from the Fatherland.

* * * * *

We will now return to the Western front, and learn something of what

happened in North France between the close of the Battle of Festubert

and the great British attack of September. At home people believed that

a big push would be made in the West during the summer months; but to

their astonishment the Allies did not attempt an offensive on a large

scale. The Russians, as you know, were then passing through a fiery

ordeal; and their newspapers constantly asked why the Allies did not

attack the enemy, and draw off from Russia some of the fury of the

German onset. The fact was that the Allies were not in a condition to

assault the German lines with any great hope of success. Though they now

outnumbered the Germans on the Western front, they were still deficient

in machine guns, heavy artillery, and stores of shell. The battles of

Festubert and of the Artois had taught them that to hurl infantry

against trenches which had not been previously wrecked by artillery fire

was simply to send men to their death. They had also learned that

piercing the enemy's line on a narrow front served no useful purpose.

Driving tiny wedges into the German position was not only costly, but a

waste of time. A big rent must be made, in order that cavalry might be

launched through the breach against the lines of communication. For

such an operation they had not as yet sufficient artillery, so they

decided--

"'Tis better that the enemy seek us:

So shall he waste his means, weary his soldiers,

Doing himself offence; whilst we, lying still,

Are full of rest, defence, and nimbleness."[67]

[Illustration]

The war on the Western front during the months of June, July, and August

was little more than the old "nibbling." All along the line there were

many small attacks followed by small counter-attacks, and in some places

fierce little struggles for strongholds. Trenches were lost and won

almost daily, but a week's advance could be measured by yards. In these

affairs we gained little ground, but we lost many men. I cannot attempt

to describe all the minor engagements of the summer months, but I must

say something about the fighting around Givenchy in the middle of June.

In front of the 7th British Division there was an enemy stronghold known

to our troops as "Stony Mountain," and from it to another fortified

point, known as "Dorchester," ran two lines of German trenches. The 7th

Division was ordered to make a frontal attack on "Stony Mountain," and

the 1st Canadian (Ontario) Battalion at the same time was to carry the

two lines of trenches.

At three o'clock on the afternoon of 15th June the Ontario regiment was

brought up to the British trenches opposite to the position to be

attacked, and the men began to beguile the hours of waiting by singing

popular songs. The attack was timed to commence at six in the evening,

and at a quarter to six two 18-pounder guns in the Canadian trenches

opened fire on the German position. One of the guns swept away the

German wire, and knocked out two enemy Maxims; but the other was wrecked

by a shell. Bullets from the German trenches rained down upon the guns,

tearing and twisting their shields as though they had been made of

paper.

[Illustration: The Canadians in a Hot Corner.

(_By permission of The Graphic._)

Lieutenant Campbell hoisted his gun on to the broad back of his

companion (Private Vincent) and poured a stream of bullets upon the

enemy.]

Just before six, Canadian sappers exploded a mine on their front, and

several of their own bombers were killed or wounded by the force of the

explosion. Immediately the leading company dashed forward through the

smoke and flying dirt, and though met by a withering flank fire from

"Stony Mountain," rushed the German front trench, and gained possession

of "Dorchester." Those, however, who attacked on the "Stony Mountain"

side were stopped by the fire of that fort, and all were killed or

wounded. Bombing parties and sappers now went forward, but almost all of

them were shot down. A sapper who reached the trench set out alone to

bomb his way along it. He did not retire until he had flung his last

bomb, and then he had no less than ten wounds in his body.

The second company closely followed on the heels of those who had won

"Dorchester," and the two companies charged towards the German

second-line trench, which was carried. Many of the Huns who put up a

fight were bayoneted, and some prisoners were taken. Meanwhile the third

company, after losing heavily in its advance, was busy putting the

captured first-line trench into a state of defence. Two machine guns

were hurried forward, but the entire crew of one of them was killed or

wounded before the trench was reached. The crew of the other gun, now

reduced to two men, Lieutenant Campbell and Private Vincent, a

lumber-jack from Bracebridge, gained the position, and Lieutenant

Campbell hoisted his gun on to the broad back of his companion, and

poured a stream of bullets upon the enemy. Later in the day, when the

Canadians were obliged to retire, Lieutenant Campbell fell wounded, but

Private Vincent dragged the gun away into safety. Lieutenant Campbell

crawled into the Canadian trench a dying man. "And no man died that

night with more glory; yet many died, and there was much glory."

The supply of bombs ran short, and Private Smith of Southampton,

Ontario, volunteered to go forward with a fresh supply. Festooned with

bombs, he crawled forward on all fours, and twice handed over his load

to his friends. So hot was the fire that he had to toss the bombs[68]

into the trench. His clothes were shot to rags, but he escaped

unwounded. But all Private Smith's efforts to supply the bombers were

unavailing. Soon all the grenades were gone, and meanwhile the machine

guns and rifles on "Stony Mountain" were rapidly thinning the Canadian

ranks. "One unknown wounded man was seen standing on the parapet of the

German front-line trench. He had thrown every bomb he carried, and,

weeping with rage, continued to hurl bricks and stones at the advancing

enemy till his end came."

The British division had been held up on the left, and the enemy was now

gathering in strength. The unsupported Canadians were therefore forced

to retire, and give up the ground which they had gained. During the

retirement many men fell, and some fine deeds of bravery were done.

Private Gledhill of Ben Miller, near Goderich, Ontario, though hurled

out of the trench by a bomb explosion which broke his rifle but did not

injure him, found another rifle, and continued to fire while his

comrades retired and he was almost alone. As he crawled towards his own

lines he fell over a wounded lieutenant, and offered to carry him back.

"Thanks, no," said the lieutenant; "I can crawl." "Will you take me?"

asked a man with a leg missing, who lay hard by. "Sure," replied the

gallant fellow, and amidst a tempest of fire he dragged the wounded man

into safety. Out of twenty-three officers who went into battle that day

only three were alive and untouched at nightfall. The fort on "Stony

Mountain" could not be captured, and all the valour and perseverance of

the Canadians went for nothing.

* * * * *

The account which you have just read gives you a very fair idea of the

midsummer fighting on the Western front. Before I turn to the great

offensive of September, let me describe briefly the struggle which took

place at Hooge towards the end of July and the beginning of August. It

had no real importance; it was only an incident in the constant tug of

war that went on along the opposing lines. Hooge is a hamlet on the

Ypres-Menin road, about two miles east of the city. On the 16th of June

we had attacked the enemy's line, and had captured 1,000 yards of German

front trenches, a part of the line, and 150 prisoners. During the

fighting the Liverpool Scottish did specially fine work.

[Illustration: Plan of the Hooge Area.

The black line shows German position on morning of July 30, 1915.]

This map shows you the scene of the struggle which I am about to

describe. Notice the chateau and the lake to the north: both were in the

hands of the Germans, who had pushed their front to the west and

south-west of the lake, and had thus made an ugly sag in our line. Just

north of the Hooge-Menin road there is a big hollow marked "Crater" on

the map. About 3 a.m. on the morning of Friday, 30th July, the Germans

violently attacked our trenches to the east of the Crater. They were

held by men of the New Army. The Germans had already sapped up close to

our line, and now they launched a torrent of liquid fire against us. At

the same time big guns on the high ground to the north-east and

south-west bombarded our lines, trench mortars joined in, and bombers

stormed our trenches with grenades. This terrible onset of fire, flame,

and bombs could not be resisted, and the Germans carried the first line

and the Crater. Our men fell back to the second line, which ran

north-west from the corner of Zouave Wood. Then the enemy began to shell

the second line, and Zouave Wood became a death-trap. You will read on a

later page how Second Lieutenant Sidney Woodroffe won the Victoria Cross

by holding his trenches in Zouave Wood to the last.

A counter-attack was made in the afternoon, but it failed. Our men were

mown down as soon as they advanced into the open. The Rifle Brigade had

been entrusted with the task; it pushed forward to certain death with

wonderful steadiness, but was almost wiped out. During this unsuccessful

attack we lost 2,000 men. No further attempt was made for ten days,

during which time our gunners shelled the enemy's lines, and stopped the

fire of their artillery. So successful was the bombardment that it put

new heart into our men, and they were quite ready for the next act of

the drama, which was timed for Monday, 9th August. Just before dawn on

that day the 16th and 18th Brigades advanced from the west and from the

south against the Crater. They had to push uphill in black darkness for

500 yards. The 2nd York and Lancaster issued from Zouave Wood with the

2nd Durham Light Infantry on their right. The two battalions made a race

of it, and the Durhams won. Over the horrible No Man's Land, strewn with

barbed-wire entanglements and the bodies of the unburied dead, the

infantry swept on, and in a few minutes were busy with the bayonet and

bomb amongst the sorely shaken Germans. Many of them were sheltering in

their dug-outs, which were very large and deep. The two hundred who held

the Crater were killed to a man.

A correspondent tells us that, on scrambling over the enemy's parapet, a

sergeant lost his balance and fell on his back to the bottom of the

trench, close to a mortar in charge of a sentry. Immediately the sentry

rushed at him with a bomb poised in his hand. With a great effort the

sergeant slewed round and dealt his opponent a kick in the ribs which

sent him spinning against the parapet, where he was dealt with by a

private who had followed hard on the heels of his sergeant.

When the trenches were cleared the infantry swept on to the chateau, and

captured the ruins of the stables, where they dug in. The attack had

been very successful, and our losses were very few, because of the

searching bombardment which had preceded the attack. Correspondents

describe the high spirits of our men on that day. It is said that many

of the less seriously wounded failed to report themselves, because they

did not wish to miss the rest of the fighting.

At half-past nine that night German shells began to fall fast and thick

on our new positions, and our men dropped fast. We lost some of our

trenches north of Sanctuary Wood, and had to retire to a little way in

front of the Crater. The enemy had made a curtain of fire behind our

lines, and reliefs could only be brought up at great loss. The battalion

which had dug in near the stables was ordered to withdraw; but four

officers and 200 men did not receive the order, and hung on until

relieved late the next morning. A small party of Durham Light Infantry,

under Corporal Smith, held out even longer, and only retired when fresh

troops took over their position.

Gradually the fighting died away. We had recovered our former position,

and what is more, we had proved that, given proper artillery

"preparation," the strongest German lines could be pierced. The New Army

won its spurs at Hooge, but at a very heavy cost.

[Illustration: The Liverpool Scottish and other Regiments charging at

Hooge.

(_By permission of The Illustrated London News._)

This picture shows the British charge at Hooge (June 16, 1915) which won

the whole of the enemy's first-line trenches on a front of a thousand

yards and parts of his second line. By noon on the day of this charge

over a hundred and fifty prisoners had been passed to our rear. (See

page 327.)]

The following officers and men were awarded the Victoria Cross for deeds

of remarkable courage during the period between the Battle of Festubert

and the end of the first week in August:--

Private William Mariner, 2nd Battalion, King's Royal Rifle Corps.

During a violent thunderstorm on the night of May 22, 1915, Private

Mariner left his trench at a place just south of Cuinchy, for the

purpose of destroying an enemy machine gun that was annoying our men. He

took with him a supply of bombs, and just before starting out on his

perilous mission, asked his sergeant to open fire on the enemy's

trenches as soon as he had thrown his bombs. This meant that he was

prepared to sacrifice himself, for he was bound to be in the line of

fire from his own trench, and could only escape death or wounding by a

miracle. He crept out into "No Man's Land," wormed his way through the

German wire entanglements, and reached the emplacement of the gun.

Climbing on to the top of the parapet, he hurled a bomb on to the roof

of the emplacement. When the roar of the explosion subsided, he heard

the noise of men running away. About a quarter of an hour later he heard

the enemy returning. At once he climbed up on the other side of the

emplacement, and with his left hand threw another bomb. Then he lay

flat, while the Germans fired round after round on the wire entanglement

behind him. For more than an hour he lay unseen and unheard. If the

sergeant had opened fire as Mariner had wished, nothing could have saved

him. Fortunately his own people did not pull a trigger, and he was able

to crawl back to his trench unharmed. He had been out all alone for an

hour and a half.

Lance-Corporal Leonard James Keyworth, 24th Battalion, London Regiment

(T.F.).

At Givenchy, on the night of May 25-26, 1915, the 24th Battalion made a

successful assault on the German trenches, and strove to follow up their

success by a bomb attack, during which fifty-five men out of the

seventy-five who took part in it were either killed or wounded. During

this very fierce encounter Lance-Corporal Keyworth, a Lincoln man, stood

fully exposed for two hours on the top of an enemy's parapet, and threw

about one hundred and fifty bombs amongst the Germans, who were only a

few yards away. In a letter to his sister Lance-Corporal Keyworth thus

describes the incident: "I was with the bombing party, and was the only

one to come through without a scratch. I went along a ridge on my

stomach, and threw bombs into the German trench, my distance being about

fifteen yards. Men were shot down by my side. Still I continued, and

came out safe. I was at once recommended for a decoration. It is

supposed to be for bravery, but I cannot understand where it came in. I

only did my duty; but how I came out God only knows." Unhappily this

gallant lad, who was only twenty-two when he won the Victoria Cross,

died of wounds six months later.

Lance-Corporal William Angus, 8th (Lanark) Battalion, Highland Light

Infantry (T.F.).

On the night of 11th June Lieutenant Martin of the Highland Light

Infantry went out with a bombing party to wreck a German sap. Suddenly a

mine was exploded by the enemy, and the lieutenant fell stunned and

bleeding at the foot of the enemy's parapet, only a few feet away from

the foe. He was half buried, but after a night of horror managed to

extricate himself from the heap of earth that covered him. As he

struggled to get free, his own men saw him through their periscopes and

made signs to him. He called aloud to them for water, and the Germans

hearing him, flung a bomb at him. Happily it was unlighted. Our men now

determined that their fallen officer should not be murdered. The best

shots lined the parapet, and neither side dared lift a head. At last a

German sniper shot the wounded officer in the side, and he feigned death

so well that his men began to prepare a cross for his grave. About three

o'clock, however, he was seen to move, and a Canadian officer proposed

that, under a hot covering fire, a man should rush out with a lasso and

haul him in.

Lieutenant Martin belonged to Carluke, a village in the Clyde valley;

and there was another Carluke man watching him--Corporal Angus, who had

just returned to the front fresh from an hospital bed in Rouen, where

his leg, badly smashed at Festubert, had healed. He now went up to his

officer and said, "Let me go, sir." He was assured that he would be

going to certain death; but he replied, "Well, sir, _sooner or later,

what does it matter_?" So saying, he crawled out, and wormed his way

along the torn and heaped ground, amidst fragments of burst shells,

broken wire, and the stark, still bodies of the slain, and in half an

hour reached the officer, and put a flask of brandy to his lips. The two

men lay side by side for a space, gathering strength for the return

journey.

Suddenly the Germans lobbed a bomb over the parapet, and a cloud of

smoke and dust arose, under cover of which Angus, half carrying, half

dragging the wounded man, was seen staggering forward. When the smoke

drifted away the German rifles cracked viciously, and more than a dozen

bombs were hurled at him. Angus was literally riddled with wounds. "I

could see the bombs coming," he said later. "I actually watched the one

that cost me my left eye. I thought both were blown out in that awful,

burning flash, so fearful was the pain in my face." The sight of the two

wounded men being mercilessly pelted by the enemy aroused the fiercest

indignation in the British trench, and only with the greatest difficulty

were the men restrained from dashing out against the cowardly foe. A

hurricane fire broke out on both sides, and in the midst of it the two

men rolled into the Scottish trench.

When the heroic collier lad was sufficiently recovered to present

himself at Buckingham Palace, and the King pinned the coveted cross on

his breast, his Majesty murmured, "Forty wounds!" "Yes, your Majesty,"

responded Angus; "but _only fifteen of them serious_!" The gallant

fellow's father was called into the presence of the King, who said,

"Your son has won his decoration nobly. It is almost a miracle he is

spared to you, and I sincerely hope he may fully recover and live long

to enjoy it. May you, too, be long spared to feel pride in him and his

achievement."

On a Saturday afternoon, a few days later, the village of Carluke,

crowded with dwellers from all parts of the Clyde valley, made holiday,

and prepared to welcome the hero who had dared death a hundred times to

save the life of a friend. Flags waved, bands played, troops presented

arms, and amidst loud cheering Angus limped through the streets with the

man whom he had saved supporting him on the one side, and Lord Newlands

on the other. Thus did he receive the deep gratitude and the handsome

gifts of his neighbours and friends, and return home to his moorland

cottage to nurse his "honourable" wounds. He was the first Scottish

Territorial to win the Victoria Cross.

[Illustration: Rushing a British Gun through the deserted streets of

Ypres to a hard-pressed position on the Salient.

(_By permission of The Sphere._)

This picture illustrates the splendid dash with which the Horse

Artillery bring up their guns to points of danger. It also shows the

ruined condition of the beautiful old city of Ypres.]

Lieutenant Frederick William Campbell, 1st Canadian Battalion.

I have already mentioned the heroism of Lieutenant Campbell and Private

Vincent during the Canadian attack on the German trenches near Stony

Mountain. When war broke out, Lieutenant Campbell was farming at Mount

Forest, Ontario; but he was so eager to "do his bit" that he sold one of

his farms, his horses, and his stock, and forthwith joined the army. He

very soon made his mark as a gallant soldier, and became very popular

with his men. At the Battle of Ypres he went fearlessly to and fro,

smiling and urging on his comrades, with death nudging his elbow. "How

is it, Mr. Campbell, this morning?" asked one of his men; and his cheery

reply was, "Oh, fine--we are going to have a scrap to-day." You will

remember that at Givenchy, on 15th June, he took two machine guns over

the parapet, and arrived at the German first line with one gun, which he

hoisted on the back of Private Vincent, and continued to fire in spite

of the hail of bullets and bombs which fell around him. When the supply

of bombs ran out, Lieutenant Campbell advanced still further with his

gun, and in an exposed position fired about one thousand rounds and held

back the enemy's counter-attack. Later on he was wounded, and died in

hospital at Boulogne. The Victoria Cross, which was awarded after his

death, became the proud and cherished possession of his bereaved wife

and three young children.

Second Lieutenant Sydney Clayton Woodroffe, 8th Battalion, Rifle

Brigade.

You will remember that during the fighting at Hooge, when our men were

fiercely attacked by big guns, liquid fire, and bombs, Second Lieutenant

Woodroffe held a trench in the Zouave Wood. He was one of three

brothers, all of them Marlborough boys, and head prefects of the famous

school in their day. Sydney was still in his teens when he was called

upon to resist torrents of shell, sprays of blazing petrol, and showers

of bursting bombs. Despite the awful storm of fire and flame, he gave

the enemy bomb for bomb; and when his supply was exhausted, withdrew his

men, rallied them anew, and at their head pushed forward once more. The

gallant lad was killed in the act of cutting his way through the

barbed-wire jungle of the enemy. One of his brothers had already made

the supreme sacrifice at Neuve Chapelle.

Second Lieutenant Arthur Boyd Rochfort, Special Reserve, 1st Battalion,

Scots Guards.

On August 3, 1915, Lieutenant Rochfort was standing with a small working

party in a communication trench just south of Cuinchy, when an enemy

mortar threw a bomb which landed on the inside of his parapet. He might

easily have stepped back round a traverse and avoided the danger; but,

shouting to his men to look out, he sprang upon the bomb, picked it up,

and hurled it over the parapet, where it at once exploded. There is no

doubt that his splendid presence of mind saved the lives of many of his

men.

[Illustration: The September Battle in Champagne.

A. Showing the German front which the French attacked on the first day,

September 25, 1915. B. Showing the position of the French front on

September 29, 1915.]

[Footnote 61: See chap. xxxi.]

[Footnote 62: South Tirol, on the north-east frontier land of Italy;

part of Austria, but inhabited chiefly by Italian-speaking people, and

therefore claimed by Italy, which also claims the coast-lands round the

head of the Adriatic Sea.]

[Footnote 63: River rising at the junction of the Julian and Carnic Alps

and flowing southwards in a winding course to the Gulf of Trieste. Its

length is about seventy-five miles, of which but little is navigable.]

[Footnote 64: Austrian territory along the eastern side of the Adriatic

Sea.]

[Footnote 65: Louis Botha, born 1863, commanded Boer forces during the

South African War; became first prime minister of the Union of South

Africa (1910); and in 1914 was appointed commander-in-chief of the Union

defence forces.]

[Footnote 66: For an account of German South-West Africa, see Vol. III.,

p. 177.]

[Footnote 67: Shakespeare's _Julius Cæsar_, Act IV., Sc. iii.]

[Footnote 68: As the safety pins were not withdrawn, they did not

explode.]

CHAPTER XLII.

IN CHAMPAGNE.

We are now to read the story of the great offensive which the Allies

undertook in the West during the month of September 1915. I have already

told you that the German lines were by this time so studded with

skilfully placed forts, full of machine guns, that no living infantry

could carry them until a road had been blasted through by artillery

fire. You remember the maze of trenches and forts known to the French as

the Labyrinth. The same sort of fortification extended along the whole

German line. It was folly to break through the enemy's line on a narrow

front, for the troops which entered the gap were at once enfiladed and

exposed to a murderous fire on their flanks. This is precisely what

happened in the unsuccessful attack at Stony Mountain. If the German

front was to be really broken, a rent of at least fifteen miles must be

made in it. In order to do this, long preparation was necessary.

Thousands of guns and mountains of ammunition were required, and, above

all, the part of the line to be broken must be carefully selected.

Look at the map on page 336, and note the position of that portion of

the German line which extends between the Argonne on the east and

Auberive on the west. The cross railway line, by means of which the

Germans supplied their front in Champagne, was in some places only four

or five miles from the French trenches, and the main line was not more

than ten or twelve miles away. If the French could break through in this

region on a wide front, they could send their cavalry forward to cut the

German lines of communication; in which case the enemy would be obliged

to fall back, and his retreat might easily become a rout. The French,

therefore, decided to make their big push in Champagne. An advance on

this part of the line not only promised success, but Champagne itself

was very suitable for a great combined attack of infantry and

artillery. Unlike Artois and Flanders, the country consists of rolling

chalk downs, with open, bare, and shallow valleys. Guns could thus be

used to the best advantage, and infantry could push forward without

being impeded by villages, mounds of refuse, railway embankments, and

small enclosed fields. On the dull levels of Champagne the freedom of

France had thrice[69] been won. Was history to repeat itself, and was a

fourth deliverance to result from the great movement now about to be

made?

A writer[70] thus describes the district:--

"There is scarcely a region in all France where a battle could

have been fought with less injury to property. Imagine, if you

please, an immense undulating plain, its surface broken by

occasional low hills and ridges, none of them much over six

hundred feet in height, and wandering in and out between these

ridges the narrow stream which is the Marne. The country

hereabouts is very sparsely settled; the few villages that dot

the plain are wretchedly poor; the trees on the slopes of the

ridges are stunted and scraggly; the soil is a chalky marl,

which you have only to scratch to leave a staring scar, and the

grass which tries to grow upon it seems to wither and die of a

broken heart. This was the great manoeuvre ground of Châlons,

and it was good for little else, yet only a few miles to the

westward begin the vineyards which are France's chief source of

wealth, and an hour's journey to the eastward is the beautiful

Forest of the Argonne."

The French devoted most of the summer to preparations for the great

attack. The British took over thirty additional miles of the line, and

thus released a large number of troops for the venture. New units were

formed, and the factories worked night and day to produce the immense

quantity of ammunition which would be needed. Artillery of every size

and pattern, from light mountain guns to monster howitzers, were

gradually brought together, until nearly 3,000 guns faced the Germans.

Had these guns been placed side by side they would have extended for

more than fifteen miles. Every battery knew exactly the portion of front

which it was to attack. About twenty captive balloons, fitted with

telephones and wires, were provided for directing the fire of the guns.

A network of light railways was built in order to bring up the vast

supplies of ammunition, and from the railhead a highroad nine miles

long and forty feet wide was constructed across the plain.

Dug-outs for men, stores for ammunition, and underground first-aid

stations were constructed; and, so that the infantry could reach their

positions without being destroyed by German shell fire, no less than

forty miles of reserve and communication trenches were made. In some

places saps and tunnels had been run out towards the German lines, so

that the men making the first assault could spring suddenly from the

earth. The hospitals were emptied ready for the stream of wounded that

would soon flow into them. Officers and men were diligently instructed;

everything was foreseen and provided for; nothing was left to chance.

Now let us look closely at the portion of the German line which was to

be assaulted. From the village of Auberive (page 336) the trenches ran

eastward. Beyond Souain a series of hills lay in front of the French

line, and on each of them a redoubt had been erected. The Germans had

held this position since the Battle of the Marne, and for more than a

year they had striven to make it impregnable. In many cases the trenches

had walls of concrete, and the wire entanglements were as much as sixty

yards deep. In front of the entanglements the ground had been

honeycombed with mines, and strewn with sharpened stakes and obstacles

of all kinds. Every German fired from behind a shield of armour plate,

and at every fifteen yards along the trenches there was a machine gun.

Here and there were revolving steel turrets, each containing a

quick-firing gun. In some places there were five lines of trenches, one

behind the other, all linked together so as to form a labyrinth very

similar to that which the French had captured in Artois. Remember that

these trenches only formed the first line of German defence. Behind them

was a second line, and between the two were the artillery. Light

railways came right down to the front, so that troops and ammunition and

supplies could be moved very readily and speedily. The Germans boasted

that they had created an inland Gibraltar, and they smiled superior when

their aviators told them what preparations were going on behind the

French lines. They were quite certain that nothing could shift them.

[Illustration: The Great French Advance in Champagne.

_By permission of The Graphic._

While the British advanced between La Bassée and Lens, the French

assaulted the German lines on a seventeen-mile front in Champagne. They

carried all before them, and captured 21,000 prisoners and over 120

guns. A British surgeon who witnessed the onslaught tells us how the

French dashed forward like an avalanche. "They are superb, these

Frenchmen."]

Of course it would never do for the French to attack in Champagne while

the rest of the Allied troops lay quiet in their trenches. The enemy

must be engaged at various points all along the line, so that he could

not mass reinforcements against the great attack. Further, he must not

be allowed to know exactly where the main thrust was to take place. The

Allies intended, as we shall learn later, to make a big offensive

between La Bassée and Lens, and to fight holding battles elsewhere.

Early in the month of September, during perfect autumn weather, a

general bombardment began along the whole front. The airmen were very

busy, and in the third week of the month there were no fewer than

twenty-seven fights over the British front alone. On 23rd September the

bombardment began to grow very violent. The guns had begun the overture

to the great drama on which the curtain was now about to rise.

* * * * *

All was now ready. The French trenches were packed with men, waiting for

the guns to cease fire and the order to advance. Meanwhile the greatest

bombardment that the world had ever known was in progress. General

Joffre had instructed his artillery commanders to smash up the enemy's

trenches, and to destroy their dug-outs in such a fashion "that may make

it possible for my men to march to the assault with their rifles at the

shoulder." It is impossible to describe in words the awful din of the

guns. The sky overhead was a canopy of flying shells, and a rain of

death fell upon the German trenches. Wire entanglements were blown into

a myriad fragments; concreted trenches were swept into shapeless ruin,

and the troops holding them were buried alive in their dug-outs.

Hundreds of men went mad through sheer terror. The big shells raised

huge geysers of earth and smoke wherever they fell, and the French

gunners, stripped to the waist, never ceased or slackened their fire for

three days and two nights. Upon and behind the German trenches a cascade

of fire continued to fall; the enemy could neither advance nor retreat.

At 5.30 on the morning of 25th September the _réveillé_ rang out along

the French lines. It was a gray, dismal morning, but the men were in

good heart. They drank their morning coffee, looked to their equipment,

and waited for the word that would launch them against the foe. Every

man wore a patch of white calico on his back, so that the French gunners

might know their own men, and not fire upon them. At 9.5 the regimental

flags were unrolled; for the first time in this war the troops were to

go into action with colours flying.

At 9.15 the guns suddenly ceased to fire, whistles shrilled all along

the line, and bugles pealed the charge. "_En avant! Vaincre ou

mourir!_"[71] shouted the officers, and a human wave of blue-gray,

fifteen miles in length and topped with steel, surged from the trenches.

Onward, with hoarse cheering and snatches of song, they went, under a

hail of fire from the German batteries and from machine guns hurriedly

withdrawn from deep dug-outs which the French guns had not wrecked.

Despite the terrible gunfire, stretches of unbroken wire still remained,

and amidst these death-traps many men fell. Numerous others were shot

down in front of steel obstacles which had to be blown up before the

advance could proceed. Nevertheless the French infantry swept on, and

plunged into the ruin of the German first line. Leaving detachments to

ferret out prisoners from the deeper dug-outs, the French made for the

second line. So fierce did the German fire become, that they frequently

had to lie flat on the ground and crawl forward. But in a lull they rose

again to their feet and advanced once more. Soon they were on the edge

of the woods, where the German field guns, unable to get away, were

firing at point-blank range. They flung themselves upon the guns, and in

a few seconds had captured whole batteries. Prisoners were taken by the

hundred--broken, stricken men, dazed and stupefied by the terrible

bombardment.

In some places the assault was pushed into the second German line; in

other places men still battled furiously in the first line. Battalions

became mixed up, but in a short time order was restored, and the troops

surged on again. Wounded men cried out to their comrades to leave them

and proceed. "Go on," they cried, "don't mind us. It's only you who are

whole who matter now." Then the guns came up with a thunderous rumble,

and unlimbering like magic, prepared the way for a further advance of

the infantry. African troops were ordered up to finish the business with

cold steel, and behind them came the cavalry--dragoons, chasseurs, and

Spahis--making a charge and fighting from the saddle for the first time

since the trench war began. They sabred the fleeing Germans and swept up

hundreds of prisoners, while the "trench cleaners," as the Algerians and

Senegalese are called, scoured the ruined earthworks for the lurking

foe.

The most desperate fighting was on the left, where the cavalry charged

the line of wooded hills between Auberive and Souain. The French

infantry on the extreme left were held up before they had advanced

little more than half a mile, but, later on, they took trench after

trench, and by midday were two miles in front of their starting-point.

It was in this part of the line that the Colonial troops, led by General

Marchand,[72] made a splendid advance, in the course of which their

brave leader fell. He was standing on the parapet of a German trench,

smoking his pipe and urging his men forward, when he was struck down.

All through the wet afternoon the battle continued, and only when

twilight fell was it possible to reckon up the gains of the day. On a

front of fifteen miles, the French had pushed forward, on the average,

two and a half miles. Our allies had drawn near to the village of

Tahure, but they had not captured it, neither had they seized the

Butte[73] of Tahure which overlooks the railway, nor the Butte of Mesnil

which you see to the south-east of Tahure. Eastward of the latter hill

there is high ground from which spurs stretch out southwards like the

open fingers of a hand. On each of the fingers of this Hand of

Massiges,[74] as the French called it, the Germans had constructed a

great stronghold of criss-crossed trenches with forts at intervals. It

was as though five labyrinths lay side by side. So strong was the

position that the Germans said it could be held against a whole army by

two washerwomen with machine guns. The French, however, had already

carried part of it, and also the farmhouse which you see on the westward

edge of the high ground. The whole German first line had gone, and large

parts of the second line west of Navarin Farm and east of Tahure had

been captured.

For every yard of front which the French had won they had taken an

unwounded prisoner, and for every mile, nine guns. During the fighting

some 21,000 prisoners were captured. The Germans surrendered by hundreds

at a time. Most of them had been without food for several days and were

suffering from thirst, and all of them had been completely cowed by the

terrible bombardment.

Though the French had made such good progress, the battle was far from

over. German counter-attacks were already preparing and might be

expected any moment. At all costs the enemy must be prevented from

bringing up his reserves and strengthening his remaining line of

defence. So while the French infantry worked like inspired giants all

through the night, digging themselves in, building parapets, and

installing their machine guns, heavy batteries lumbered and swayed

forward over the scarred and pitted ground, and began a new bombardment

from advanced positions. On the next day, Sunday, all the summits of the

downs were cleared from Auberive to the Butte of Souain. A hill facing

the Butte of Tahure was captured by the evening, and the northern slopes

of the Hand of Massiges were won.

By means of artillery and bomb attacks the line slowly advanced and was

knitted up all along its length. The fighting during Sunday was far more

trying than that of Saturday. "If you only knew what these days and

nights are like," wrote an officer; "condemned to remain crouching in

the mud under an avalanche of shells, under an almost unceasing rain,

with but few supplies brought up, in the midst of bodies more or less

mangled by shot and shell, and in our ears always the groans of the

dying and the moans of the wounded."

The Germans rushed up all the men that they could spare from other parts

of the line, and on Monday the Crown Prince tried to break through the

French trenches in the Argonne. His troops advanced after a gas attack,

but they were too weak to do more than carry a few yards. It was not

necessary to draw off a single man from the Champagne armies to repulse

him.

The second great French effort began on Wednesday, 29th September, when

an attack was launched against the German position to the west of

Navarin Farm. Already the French had pierced the second line on a front

of about five-eighths of a mile. They strove hard to widen the gap so

that the cavalry might push through, but again and again they were

repulsed, and all that they could do was to dig shelter trenches and

cling to the breach in the face of a murderous fire that assailed them

in front and in flank. With this check the great battle of Champagne may

be said to have ended.

* * * * *

The French had probably about 110,000 casualties in the five days'

fighting. It was estimated that the Germans lost 140,000 men, including

21,000 prisoners, and 121 guns. Despite their great sacrifice of life,

the distance gained by the French was too small to be shown on an

ordinary map. But we shall make a great mistake if we measure the effect

of the French effort by the amount of ground gained. The aim and object

of generalship is not to occupy territory, but to foil the enemy's plans

and destroy his forces. The victory at the Marne stopped any further

invasion of France and ruined the German plan, while the resistance in

Flanders and Artois prevented the enemy from reaching the Channel ports.

The Champagne battles threw the enemy upon the defensive; it wore down

his numbers and disheartened him, and proved that his most strongly

fortified lines could be pierced, if the Allies were willing to pay the

cost.

* * * * *

Though there was no great offensive on the Western front during the rest

of the year, fighting continued in Champagne during October. The Germans

sent reserves to this region, and on 6th October the French made an

effort to carry the village and Butte of Tahure, in order that they

might command the cross-railway which supplied the German front. After a

long and strong bombardment by massed guns the French carried the crest

of the Butte, and their guns now cut off the Germans in the village from

support and reinforcements. Then they swept from the west and south into

a wood in which the enemy had constructed seven lines of parallel

trenches, and, after carrying them, entered the village, where over a

thousand prisoners were taken. The summit of the Butte was now in the

hands of the French, and this was the farthest point they reached during

the year 1915.

This success and the capture of very strong trenches to the north of the

Navarin Farm drove the Germans to desperate efforts. They knew that

another vigorous thrust would push them back from their railway and

force them to retreat. On the night of 8th October they made a great

counter-attack on the Butte, but achieved nothing. Meanwhile their hold

on the Butte of Mesnil, which formed an awkward sag in the French lines,

had been greatly shaken. On 24th October the French carried a very

powerful fortress in this position, and afterwards beat off numerous

attacks. They had thus removed a danger from their flank and were

enabled to straighten out their line.

On the 30th of the same month the Germans attacked the Butte of Tahure

and retook the summit, capturing 21 officers and 1,215 men. They forced

the French back to the southern side of the hill, but they could do no

more. Nevertheless, they had eased their position. They could still use

the cross-railway for supplying their lines during the winter's lull

which was soon to set in.

* * * * *

A correspondent who visited the battlefields of Champagne during the

month of September tells us that the ground over which the struggle had

raged looked and smelled like a garbage heap. "Over an area as long as

from Charing Cross to Hampstead Heath, and as wide as from the Bank to

the Marble Arch, the earth is pitted with the craters caused by bursting

shells, as is pitted the face of a man who has had the small-pox. Any of

these shell-holes was large enough to hold a barrel; many of them would

have held a horse; I saw one, caused by the explosion of a mine, which

we estimated to be seventy feet deep and twice that in diameter. In the

terrific blast that caused it five hundred German soldiers perished."

The battlefield was thickly covered with unexploded shells,

hand-grenades, and bombs. In a captured trench the correspondent saw one

of the steel revolving turrets, some six feet high and eight or nine in

diameter, in which the Germans had installed a quick-firing gun. The

door of the turret was fastened by a chain and padlock, and when burst

open the bodies of three Germans were discovered. They had been locked

in by their officers, and left to fight and die with no chance of

escape.

[Footnote 69: In 451, when Attila, the King of the Huns, was overthrown;

in 1430, when the English hold on France was shaken by the victorious

progress of Joan of Arc from Orleans to Rheims; and in 1792, at Valmy,

where the Prussians were beaten and the young republic of France was

saved.]

[Footnote 70: Mr. E. A. Powell in _Vive la France_.]

[Footnote 71: "Forward! Conquer or die!"]

[Footnote 72: French officer who crossed Africa from the Atlantic coast

to the White Nile in 1898 and claimed Fashoda for the French. He was met

by Lord (then Sir Herbert) Kitchener, who said to him, "I congratulate

you on all you have accomplished." "No," replied Major Marchand,

pointing to his troops, "it is not I but these soldiers who have done

it." Kitchener surrounded Marchand's forces and ordered him to withdraw

his troops or to haul down his flag. For a moment there was a chance of

war between Britain and France, but the French Government decided to

withdraw the troops, and the incident ended with an acknowledgment of

our right to the Nile valley.]

[Footnote 73: French word for rising ground, knoll.]

[Footnote 74: _Mass-seige._]

CHAPTER XLIII.

THE BATTLE OF LOOS.--I.

You will remember that, in order to prevent the Germans from massing

their forces to resist the great French offensive in Champagne, the

Allies had prepared attacks on other parts of the enemy's line. While

the French were pushing forward across the miry downs of Champagne, six

separate assaults were launched on the German front between Lens and

Ypres--four to the north of the La Bassée Canal and two to the south of

it. The four attacks which were made to the north of the canal were

merely for the purpose of distracting the enemy's attention; the two

attacks which were made to the south of the canal were part of the main

movement against the enemy's lines of communication. While the French in

Champagne strove to capture the railway by which the Germans maintained

themselves in this region, the French and British tried to seize the

railway junction of Lens and open a road into the plain of the Scheldt.

Had these thrusts from the south and the west fully succeeded, the enemy

would have been forced to retire, probably into Belgium.

I shall not trouble you with an account of the "holding" attacks which

were made to the north of the La Bassée Canal. Three of them served

their purpose and resulted in some gains, but the fourth, which was made

against the Aubers Ridge, came to grief. The two attacks which I shall

describe at length are those which were made by the French and the

British south of the canal.

Turn back to the map on page 223 and find the village of Souchez. South

and east of this village you observe that there is high ground, which is

nowhere more than 400 feet above sea-level. This high ground is known as

the Vimy Heights, from the name of the village which you see by the side

of the railway line running from Arras to Lens. On 26th September the

French began to attack these heights, and by the morning of the 29th

had fought their way up them foot by foot, and were in a position to

command the railway from Lens to Arras. I wish I had space to describe

this fine achievement fully. As, however, this book is specially meant

for British boys and girls, I must pass over the splendid work done by

the French in capturing the Vimy Heights, and turn to the exploits of

our own men. By winning the Vimy Heights the French had cut off Lens

from Arras; the British were now to try to cut off Lens from La Bassée.

Look carefully at the map on page 349 and follow the German first line

of trenches from north to south. Less than a mile and a half south of

the canal, and about half a mile inside the German line, you see a

position marked Fosse 8, and south of it the Hohenzollern Redoubt. Fosse

8 was a great slag heap which commanded the country to the south and had

been strongly fortified. The Hohenzollern Redoubt was a pear-shaped

stronghold situated on a gentle rise about 500 yards in front of the

line. Its broad end pointed northwards and it had a clear field of fire

before it, every inch of which could be swept by the machine guns

inside. The whole position was criss-crossed by trenches and resembled

the famous Labyrinth. It was connected with the main line by two

trenches. That which ran to the rear from the south end was called "Big

Willie," and the corresponding trench at the north end was known as

"Little Willie."

South of the Hohenzollern Redoubt the line ran along the western slope

of the downs which you see marked on the map. Then the line curved

westwards, passing the Loos Redoubt, and after crossing the Béthune-Lens

road, curved back eastwards in front of what was known as Double

Crassier,[75] another slag heap which had been strongly fortified.

Now look at the German reserve line, which was roughly parallel with the

front line, and from less than a mile to two miles behind it. Notice the

Quarries, which had been turned into a stronghold, and the mining

village of Loos, which lies in a shallow hollow. Behind the village

rises Hill 70, on which there was a strong redoubt.

[Illustration: Battle of Loos.--The Front from La Bassée to Lens.]

Now follow the third line. Behind it you will see a string of mining

villages--Haisnes,[76] Cité St. Elie, and Hulluch. The line crossed the

Lens-La Bassée road at Hulluch and then ran a little east and south

behind a chalk pit and Pit No. 14. The villages and the pits which I

have mentioned were fortresses, and there were numerous other mounds and

hillocks that had been turned into strongholds.

From the British front the country seemed a dead-flat plain studded with

the head-gear of pits and groups of small houses, and seamed with roads.

There was scarcely a tree in sight, and except for the collieries and

slag heaps, the plain looked something like the South African veldt.

But behind the downs which shut in the view of our men facing the

northern half of the line, there were innumerable places where batteries

of machine guns lay concealed.

The map shows you that two corps of the First Army, under Sir Douglas

Haig, were arrayed for the assault. The 1st Corps, under General

Gough,[77] consisted of the 2nd, 9th, and 7th Divisions: the 2nd

Division lay north of the canal, the 9th Division opposite to Fosse 8,

and the 7th Division facing the Quarries. The 9th Division consisted of

Scottish regiments--Highland and Lowland, "kilties" and men wearing the

trews. South of the road from Vermelles to Hulluch lay the 4th Army

Corps, under General Sir Henry Rawlinson. The 1st Division of his

command was posted just south of the road; opposite to the Loos Redoubt

was the 15th Division, also a wholly Scottish division, composed of men

of the new army. This division had been for three months or more in the

trenches facing Loos, and it was well acquainted with the ground over

which it was soon to charge. On the extreme right was the 47th Division

of Londoners.

* * * * *

When the guns began to roar in Champagne, the British artillery along

the whole five-mile front from Givenchy to Grenay joined in the tumult.

Across the plain a tornado of shells swept upon the German positions,

and in many places the trenches were pounded into utter ruin. At 6.30 on

the morning of 25th September the guns lifted their muzzles, and the

high explosive shells rained a deluge of fire behind the first line of

German defence. Then the whistles blew, and five miles of British troops

with fixed bayonets clambered over their trenches. The great advance had

begun.

[Illustration: The Storming of Loos Road Redoubt.

(_By permission of The Illustrated London News._)

This redoubt (see map, page 349) was a fortified tongue of land jutting

out of the German first-line trench. It was semicircular in form, and

was protected by a perfect jungle of barbed wire entanglements. The

British guns smashed the redoubt to ruin, and on September 25, 1915, it

was carried. (See page 357.)]

We will first follow the fortunes of the 9th Division, now making for

Fosse 8 and the Hohenzollern Redoubt. Enfilading fire from the village

of Auchy streamed down upon the Lowlanders on the left, and took a heavy

toll of them as they advanced. Nevertheless they pushed on, crossed the

railway, and in a few minutes were thrusting and bombing in the German

trenches. So fierce, however, was the fire that they could not cling to

them, and slowly during the day they were driven back. Meanwhile the

26th Highland Brigade on the right had rushed the Hohenzollern Redoubt.

The bombardment had wrecked it, and saps had been run up to within a

short distance of "Little Willie." Our losses were heavy, but the

stronghold was won.

Camerons, Seaforths, and Black Watch now advanced over a bare,

shell-swept piece of ground towards Fosse 8, from which a hail of

machine-gun fire beat down upon them like a thunderstorm in autumn. As

the Lowlanders on their left had been held up, and their flank was in

the air, the 27th Brigade was hurried up in support, and was soon busy

with bomb and bayonet in the maze of trenches and cottages to the east

of the Fosse. By midday we had pushed forward a broad salient on this

part of the line, and had captured the chief works of the enemy, though

the Germans were not entirely cleared out of them. The rear was so

studded with little forts, each pouring out a murderous fire, that

little further progress could be made. Our men fell fast, and as we had

but few reserves, it was clear that we could not long hold on to our

gains in this part of the line.

Now let us see how the 7th Division was faring. There were no great

strongholds in their front, so they swept forward right across the

German first line, and reached the western end of the Quarries, where

for a time the Reserve Line held them up. Nevertheless the van pushed

on, entered the village of Cité St. Elie, gained the highroad, turned

northwards, and by ten o'clock was in the village of Haisnes. Judging

from the map, you would say that the Germans still clinging to the

eastern edges of Fosse 8 and Hohenzollern Redoubt were now taken between

two fires, and that nothing could save them. But the vanguard, which had

pushed northwards along the highroad to Haisnes, was not strong enough

to hold on to the village, and by midday it had fallen back, and the

front of the 7th Division lay from the western side of the Quarries

eastwards to Cité St. Elie. In the Quarries was a German howitzer

battery which we could not destroy and the enemy could not use.

[Footnote 75: _Krass-e-a._]

[Footnote 76: _Haine._]

[Footnote 77: Killed by a chance bullet on October 24, 1915.]

CHAPTER XLIV.

THE BATTLE OF LOOS.--II.

The 1st Division, lying to the south of the 7th Division, made excellent

progress. Its 1st Brigade swept forward for a mile and three-quarters,

and by noon was across the highroad, on the outskirts of Hulluch, and up

against the last German line. On the right, however, the 2nd Brigade was

checked by wire and trenches which our artillery had not destroyed; and

it lay pinned to the ground till afternoon, when reserves were sent up

through the wide rent which, we shall learn later, had been torn in the

German lines by the 15th Division. These reserves cut off and captured a

German detachment 700 strong, and enabled the 2nd Brigade to go forward

and join the 1st Brigade in front of Hulluch.

Now we come to the most brilliant advance of the day, that which was

made by the 15th and 47th Divisions against Loos. This advance resulted,

as you will learn, in the capture of the village, and shook the whole

German front. For a brief time the Germans thought that all was lost,

and they began to move their big guns out of Lens. The 47th Division of

Londoners meant to "make good" that day. For weeks they had been busy

with preparations, and when the hour arrived everything went like

clockwork. They had constructed a big model of the countryside, and had

studied it so well that every man knew the lie of the ground, and

exactly where he had to go. One battalion--the 19th London--lost all its

officers; yet the men went on without them, and carried out the arranged

plan without a mistake. The 18th (London Irish), the 19th (St. Pancras),

and the 20th (Blackheath and Woolwich) were on the left of the attack,

and the 6th, 7th, and 8th (Post Office Rifles) on the right. Cannot you

imagine the amazement of the French gunners who watched the start when

they saw one of the London Irish kick off a football from the parapet

and dribble it towards the German lines?

[Illustration: British Troops swarming over the German First Line

Trenches and dashing onwards towards Loos, the "Tower Bridge," and Hill

70.

(_From the drawing by S. Begg. By permission of The Illustrated London

News._)

Notice the Tower Bridge, as it was called by our soldiers. It was the

head-gear of a pit, and consisted of twin towers connected by a bridge.

It had been seen by our men, foreshortened over the downs, for many

months past. They believed that the Germans had constructed it before

the war as an observation station.]

In half an hour the stronghold of the Double Crassier had been carried,

and the men of the 47th Division were pushing on to the village of Loos

through clouds of bursting shrapnel. Before long they had seized the

cemetery, and their left was on the outskirts of the village. A few

minutes later and they were surging into the shattered streets of Loos,

where they joined hands with the Highlanders of the 15th Division

beneath the "Tower Bridge." Then began a fierce and deadly struggle.

Every ruined house was packed with Germans from cellar to garret; the

muzzles of rifles and machine guns peeped out of every window and

through every grating. Through the wet, slippery streets went our men,

bursting through barricades, battering down doors, fighting upstairs and

downstairs, bombing the enemy out of cellars, slag heaps, and

pit-workings, and gradually clearing the place. In a deep cellar a

German officer was discovered directing by telephone the fire of the

batteries, which were smashing the ruined village to atoms. So the

fierce, red work went on, and by nine in the morning Loos was won.

* * * * *

The inhabitants of Loos were overjoyed when the British entered the

village and set them free from German bondage. Though the place had been

heavily shelled for many months, some of the people had lived in their

cellars all the time. When our men appeared they came out of their

hiding-places, and while doing so some of them were killed. The

remainder, however, were sent to a place of safety, and were given food.

Some of the women greeted the Highlanders with hearty kisses. A pretty

girl of eighteen, named Emilienne Moreau, was one of the first to assist

our wounded. She helped to carry in the stricken men and to bandage

them. As the poor, helpless fellows lay on their stretchers two German

snipers in a neighbouring house opened fire on them. This was more than

the brave girl could bear. Suddenly, without a word, she bent down

beside a wounded officer and took his revolver out of his holster. Armed

with this weapon, she disappeared down a side street and made her way to

the house in which the snipers were hidden. She managed to get inside by

means of a side entrance, and, taking steady aim, shot them both. Such

is the story of the girl who will go down to history as "the heroine of

Loos." On November 27, 1915, she was decorated with the French Military

Cross. When General de Sailly pinned the decoration on her breast, he

said, "I congratulate and admire you, young lady. You do honour to the

women of France. You are a fine and inspiring example." And so say all

of us.

* * * * *

The most remarkable success of the day was obtained by the 15th

Division. Let me remind you that this division consisted of Scottish

soldiers, and that they lay in front of the Loos Redoubt. The 44th

Brigade of this division was to make its thrust direct at the village;

the 46th Brigade, on the left, was to sweep round and enter it on the

north side; while the 45th Brigade was held in reserve. We will now

follow the fortunes of the 9th Black Watch and the 8th Seaforths of the

44th Brigade. They were now about to assault the village; the 7th

Camerons were in support, and the 10th Gordons were to follow on.

Do you remember the great gas attack of the Germans at the Second Battle

of Ypres? You will remember what a shock of horror went through the

civilized world when the Germans resorted to this foul weapon. We had

never dreamed of sending clouds of poisoned gas against our enemies, but

now we were forced to pay them back in their own coin. Many people at

home thought that we ought to refrain from using gas, but our generals

thought otherwise, and in times of warfare their word is law. But the

gas which we were now about to use was not poisoned. It was far less

hurtful than that of the Germans. Men who breathed it were rendered

insensible for a time; they were neither killed nor subjected to

horrible tortures. We also used, for the first time in this battle,

clouds of smoke to screen our advance.