At ten minutes to six on the morning of 25th September the nozzles of

the gas cylinders in front of our trenches were opened, and the men

watched anxiously as the whitish cloud moved slowly upwards towards the

German lines near the crown of the slope. A very light wind blew from

the south-west, and in the hollow where Loos stands formed an eddy which

blew back the gas on to the 46th Brigade. Our men were wearing their gas

helmets, but for a moment the choking cloud caused them to hesitate,

whereupon Piper Daniel Laidlaw climbed the parapet and played a march

that put new heart into his comrades. You will learn on a later page

that he received the Victoria Cross for this fine deed.

The Highlanders saw before them the line of green-gray sand-bags which

they had watched through their periscopes day by day for months past.

The parapets of the enemy, which had so long barred their way, were soon

to be the starting-point for their advance. Now the great guns got to

work, and in less than half an hour the barrier was crushed and pounded

into ruin. The wire was blown into a million fragments, and the parapets

were utterly destroyed. The strong redoubt of Loos was raked fore and

aft, and the German trenches were full of dead.

At 6.30 the whistles blew; the Highlanders scrambled over the parapets,

and with a rush dashed into the wrecked trenches. At five minutes past

seven the whole of the German first line position, several trenches

deep, was in their hands. Even in the first rush many men were mown down

by the machine guns which desperate Germans had hidden in deep dug-outs

and had brought into play when the bombardment ceased. But nothing could

stay the Scots. On they went, cheering and singing, through the reeking

cloud of gas and smoke, and in a few minutes were rushing down the slope

towards Loos. The entanglements of the reserve line had been broken in

many places, but here and there patches of uncut wire remained, and the

Black Watch had to cut them under heavy fire. The ground was carpeted

with their dead, but they did not waver; they swarmed over the reserve

line, and at twenty minutes to eight, an hour and ten minutes after they

had left their trenches, they were shooting and stabbing and hurling

bombs in the four rambling streets and in the gardens and enclosures of

Loos, along with their comrades of the 47th Division, who had entered

from the south. One Cameron sergeant was seen with a machine gun on his

shoulder, pouring a stream of bullets into window after window. The 46th

Brigade was rapidly closing in from the north. Two and a half hours

after the advance began, Loos was clear of the enemy.

[Illustration: A Scottish Highlander rescuing a French Girl in the

Village of Loos.

Many moving incidents took place when the British entered Loos. Many of

the inhabitants, who had been living in the cellars, came out to heap

blessings on the head of their deliverers. A Highlander is here seen

carrying a fainting French girl into a place of safety.]

The Highlanders, however, were not content. It was their business not

only to take Loos, but to capture the broad down marked on the map as

Hill 70, and some of them believed that when it was won supports would

follow them, and they were to push on as far as they could. The remnants

of the Highland Brigade, with Camerons and Gordons leading, now rushed

up the western slope of Hill 70, and were at once met by a fierce fire.

The Germans came out of their trenches as if to attack, and at the sight

the Highlanders streamed up the hill like hares, the green tartans of

the Gordons mingling with those of the Camerons. They were fired at from

front and flank, but on they swept, carrying all before them, and by

nine in the morning they were on the summit of the hill.

They stormed the redoubt at the top, and many of the garrison

surrendered. Without pausing to secure the place, they sped down the

eastern slope and reached the outskirts of the village of Cité St.

Auguste. They were now right through the last line of German trenches,

and were in a district where every fold in the ground sheltered a

machine gun. By this time they were reduced to a few hundreds; they had

no supports south or north, and no reserves were following them up. The

redoubt on Hill 70 opened fire again, while from several strongholds in

the neighbourhood streams of lead played upon them. In the course of

three hours they had advanced nearly four miles, and the last line of

the German defence was in their rear. Had reserves been available, and

had their flanks been secure, Lens must have fallen and the Germans must

have retreated.

The Highlanders had gone too far, and they were now hidden in the fog

and smoke of the eastern slope from the eyes of their comrades who were

battling against the redoubt on the hill. They must be recalled, and two

officers volunteered to go forward with the order to retire. Both fell

on the way, but the order reached the stragglers, who turned and began

to fight their way back through the encircling fire. Few of them

returned to the British lines on the hill. "All down the slope towards

Lens lay the tartans, Gordon and Black Watch, Seaforth and Cameron, like

the drift left on the shore when the tide has ebbed."

You will probably ask, Where were the reserves at this time? Why were

they not brought up promptly, so that the gains of the Highlanders might

be made good? There was a whole army corps in reserve. Where was it at

this critical time? Sir John French tells us that he kept it under his

own command, so that he might throw it into that part of the line where

the need was greatest. On the night before the battle two divisions of

this corps were about five miles from our old firing-line; another

division--the Guards--lay nearly twenty miles from Loos, while other

divisions were still more remote. All the reserves which Sir Douglas

Haig possessed at the beginning of the battle consisted of the 3rd

Cavalry Division. After the fall of Loos, when the Highlanders were in

front of Cité St. Auguste, Sir John French sent him the 21st and 24th

Divisions. At that time they were about eight miles from our front, and

they could not possibly arrive before the German counter-attacks began.

Long before they appeared the enemy was hurrying up fresh troops and

flinging them against our worn and weary men. All through the drizzling

rain of the afternoon until the sun set in a stormy sky our men were

heavily assailed. They were clinging to their gains; but their hold on

Fosse 8, on Pit 14, and on Hill 70 was weakening.

Through the wet, dark night two divisions of the Eleventh Army marched

towards the firing-line, in order to relieve two brigades of the 15th

Division. They were quite new to the work of war, and some of them had

only landed in France a few days before. Sir John French had reviewed

them, and had been struck by their fine martial appearance, and he now

proposed to send them into the thick of the fighting. On the morning of

Sunday one of these divisions began to advance towards the trenches

across open ground under a terrible fire. It was an ordeal too great for

any unseasoned troops, and they gave way.

The German counter-attacks continued all night. The 7th Division were

driven out of their trenches at the Quarries, but in the afternoon of

Sunday they regained the lost ground. By this time the 21st and 24th

Divisions had arrived. One brigade of the 24th Division pushed forward

most gallantly between Hulluch and the Chalk Pit; but the advance was

carried too far, and in the afternoon it was forced to retrace its steps

with heavy losses. Meanwhile the 21st Division had to bear the brunt of

a very heavy German attack. The men had been without food and water for

many hours, and were worn out with much fighting. Three times their

officers rallied them, but they were forced back, and our advanced

positions towards Hulluch were lost. Some of the trenches on Hill 70 had

also been recaptured, and it was feared that we could not hold on to the

rising ground much longer. Many a British soldier, half dead with

fatigue, his eyes bloodshot and bleared with powder smoke, looked

anxiously to the rear and muttered beneath his breath, "Will the

reserves never come?"

The Guards were coming up, but they were then eight miles away; and were

not being hurried, for they were intended to carry on the next stage of

the advance. The fate of the two new divisions had upset all the plans,

and troops that had been withdrawn from the trenches had to be sent back

again. The 45th Brigade of the 15th Division was ordered to retake the

lost ground on Hill 70. It advanced, but was met by a terrible shell

fire, and could not proceed. Four times Lieutenant-Colonel Douglas

Hamilton led forward the Camerons; he fell at the head of the fifty men

who alone survived. The position of affairs was now desperate, and it

continued to be so all that day and all through the following night. So

weak were our lines during the hours of darkness that the Germans could

easily have driven us out of Loos had they made an attack in force. Not

until Monday at noon did the Guards arrive and take over the front from

the heroic 15th Division. In the two days' fighting it had lost more

than 6,000 men. The fiery spirit of the Gael and the dogged endurance of

the Lowlander had added new glory to the fighting fame of Scotland.

Nothing was more surprising in the Battle of Loos than the high spirits

of our men, even in the darkest hour of trial. Even the badly wounded

came out of action singing and waving blood-stained bayonets. Those who

were sent back to billets woke from their much-needed sleep ready and

even eager to plunge again into the fray. During the wet and misty

Monday Sir Douglas Haig was reinforced by the 28th Division; but before

it could arrive we had lost Fosse 8, and the Germans were bombing our

men out of the Hohenzollern Redoubt.

In the afternoon the news spread like wildfire that "the Guards were

going in." They were now to take the field for the first time in this

war as a division, and great things were expected of them. They were to

win back the three-quarters of a mile of ground which we had lost

between Hulluch and the Loos-La Bassée road, and right nobly did they do

it. The 1st Brigade carried all before it, and reached the road; the

Irish Guards and the Coldstreams of the 2nd Brigade also crossed the

road, and, facing a terrific fire, which lost them their colonel and

eleven officers, carried the Chalk Pit; while the Welsh Guards and the

Grenadiers of the 3rd Brigade, advancing as though on parade, swept

through Loos, and advanced through a storm of gas shells towards Hill

70. As they pushed on, the wearied Londoners and the other troops

holding our line cheered themselves hoarse. The Guards gained the crest

of the hill, but being too much exposed to fire from the Redoubt, dug in

about a hundred yards to the west of it.

Next day a very determined effort was made to carry Pit 14; but it

failed, and the much-debated ground became a No Man's Land which neither

side dared cross. The battle was now drawing to a close. While the enemy

continued to shell our trenches we laboured to strengthen our lines. On

a front of 6,500 yards we had everywhere carried the enemy's first line,

and broken up his reserve line, while in one case we had pushed through

his last position. We had captured over 3,000 of the enemy and more than

fifty of his officers. Twenty-six field guns and forty machine guns, as

well as much war material, had fallen into our hands. Some of these guns

were afterwards exhibited in London and in other parts of the kingdom as

trophies of war.

The Battle of Loos was a real success. It had resulted in useful gains,

and it had proved that our infantry were second to none in the world.

But even in the midst of our rejoicings we could not help feeling

disappointment. Much had been done, but more might have been done. We

had struck a weak place in the enemy's line, but we were not ready to

take full advantage of our good luck. Our first push had given us much

ground; but we could not proceed because our reserves were not ready to

follow up the advance. For twenty-four hours--from Saturday at midday

until noon on Monday--broken and weary brigades clung heroically to the

positions which they had won, waiting for supports to arrive. There was

mismanagement somewhere--the same sort of mismanagement which we had

suffered at Neuve Chapelle and Festubert. Our generals had not yet fully

learnt the lessons of the new warfare. They were learning them in the

best possible of all schools, but at a great cost of human life and

effort. Between the 25th of September and the 1st of October we lost

about 45,000 men, many of whom, however, were only slightly wounded. The

French Staff calculated that the Germans had lost in the September

battles not less than 200,000.

For the first time for hundreds of years there was widespread mourning

throughout Great Britain. The men of the new armies came from every

class in the nation, and many households which had never before had a

soldier son were plunged in grief. Three commanders of divisions fell,

three Members of Parliament, and many who had distinguished themselves

in civilian life as scholars or as captains of industry. But we know

that all who fell, whether distinguished or undistinguished, generals or

privates, played their parts like men for the land of their love and

pride. Somewhere in Flanders there is a grave above which a wooden cross

bears these words:--

"Tell England, ye that pass this monument,

That we who rest here died content."

Equally content were those gallant men who fell in Artois during the

closing days of September.

* * * * *

The results of the fighting in the West from 1st October to the end of

the year may be summed up very briefly. Both in Champagne and on the

British front between the La Bassée Canal and Lens, the Germans made

fierce counter-attacks; but nowhere did they win more than momentary

successes. On the 8th of October they assembled behind the Chalk Pit,

and came on in four great waves, marching shoulder to shoulder, only to

be shattered to fragments by our fire. Five days later we launched an

attack against the German line between the Hohenzollern Redoubt and

Hulluch; but though we won a thousand yards of trenches we could not

remain in them. By this time nearly all the Redoubt and Fosse 8 had been

recovered by the Germans, and on 13th October we began a three days'

attack upon these positions. The North Midland Division covered itself

with glory during two crowded days of incessant battle. The most

desperate hand-to-hand fighting took place, and many notable deeds of

gallantry were done. We won the main trench of the Redoubt, but no more.

At the end of October our line was a little farther forward than it had

been at the beginning of the month; but when we came to reckon up the

losses of friend and foe, it was hard to say on which side the balance

lay. Thereafter, to the end of the winter, both sides settled down to

the long weariness of trench warfare.

CHAPTER XLV.

BRAVEST OF THE BRAVE.--I.

The fighting on the Western front from the beginning of the September

offensive to the close of the year abounded in heroic incidents, and

many Victoria Crosses were won. In this and the next chapter I shall

give you brief accounts of those who received the highest award of

valour.

Captain Anketell Montray Read, 1st Battalion, Northamptonshire Regiment.

Near Hulluch, on the morning of 25th September, Captain Read, though

suffering from gas, went out several times to rally men who had lost

their units and were retiring. Utterly regardless of danger, he formed

them up and led them back to the firing-line. While carrying out this

gallant work he was mortally wounded. On several former occasions he had

shown outstanding bravery.

Lieutenant George Allan Maling, M.B., R.A.M.C.

During the great offensive of September, Lieutenant Maling slaved

unceasingly for twenty-six continuous hours in attending the wounded out

in the open and under heavy fire. He ministered to no less than 300 men,

but was at last flung down by the bursting of a high-explosive shell

that killed several of his patients, wounded his assistant, and stunned

him. When he had recovered, a second shell covered him with a torrent of

earth; nevertheless "his high courage and zeal never failed him, and he

continued his gallant work single-handed."

Second Lieutenant Frederick Henry Johnson, 73rd Field Company, R.E.

During the attack on Hill 70, Second Lieutenant Johnson, though wounded

in the leg, stuck to his duty and led several charges against the

redoubt. At a very critical time he rallied the men near him, and by his

splendid example and cool courage saved the situation. He remained at

his post until relieved in the evening.

Sergeant H. Wells, 2nd Battalion, Royal Sussex Regiment.

On 25th September, when his platoon officer had been killed, Sergeant

Wells took command and led his men forward to within fifteen yards of

the German wire. By this time he had lost nearly half his platoon, and

the remainder were much shaken. Nevertheless, with the utmost coolness

and bravery he rallied them and led them forward. Again, when but few of

them were left, he stood up and urged them on once more, but while doing

so was killed. Rarely has a soldier shown a more splendid example of

courage and devotion to duty.

Piper Daniel Laidlaw, 7th Battalion, K.O.S.B.

When Piper Laidlaw bade farewell to his wife, she said, "Mind you bring

back the V.C." He thought it a fine joke--the V.C. was for heroes, not

for pipers; but his opportunity came, and he nobly seized it. When on

the morning of 25th September an eddy blew back the gas fumes upon the

Borderers, some of the gasping, choking men were not ready to advance.

"Laidlaw," shouted Lieutenant Young, "pipe 'em together." Without a

moment's hesitation Laidlaw mounted the parapet and, marching up and

down, played his company out of the trench. "I began," he said, "with

the regimental march, 'Blue Bonnets over the Border.' My, but there's

fire in the old tune, and the lads set up a cheer, sick as they were

from the gas and the terrific pounding. I ran with 'em, and soon the

whole line was advancing. I changed to 'The Braes o' Mar'--and then my

shell burst." Lieutenant Young fell dead, and a fragment of barbed wire

tore the piper's feet and brought him down. But even this did not put an

end to his piping. He still played on, and many a lad felt his courage

mount high as the old familiar tune rang in his ears. "Laidlaw," said

the Colonel, when all was over, "you've done well this morning!" The

gallant piper thought nothing of his exploit, but mourned for the young

officer who had been stricken down by his side. In due course he

returned home, proud to show his wife that he had obeyed her parting

behest.

[Illustration: Piper Daniel Laidlaw outside the British Trench playing

"Blue Bonnets over the Border" to hearten his comrades to the Attack.

(_From the picture by S. Begg. By permission of The Illustrated London

News._)]

Private George Peachment, 2nd Battalion, King's Royal Rifle Corps.

Near Hulluch, on 25th September, Private Peachment saw his company

commander lying wounded, and crawled out to assist him. He knelt in the

open by the side of his officer, and while bandaging him was struck

first by a fragment of a bomb, then by a bullet which found its billet.

Private Peachment was one of the youngest men in his battalion.

Private Arthur Vickers, 2nd Battalion, Royal Warwickshire Regiment.

During the advance on the first line of German trenches the

Warwickshires found themselves held up by wire. Without waiting for

orders, Private Vickers ran forward through very heavy shell, rifle, and

machine-gun fire and cut the wire. It was broad daylight, and as he

stood up to do the work, he was in full view of the enemy. Thanks to his

fine pluck, a way was opened for the battalion to advance again.

Lieutenant-Colonel Angus Falconer Douglas-Hamilton, 6th Battalion,

Cameron Highlanders.

You will remember that on Sunday, 26th September, the Germans flung

their reserves upon our wornout men, and the situation was desperate.

On Hill 70, when the battalions to the right and left had retired,

Lieutenant-Colonel Douglas-Hamilton rallied his men again and again and

led them forward three times. There were now only about fifty of his

brave lads left; nevertheless he cried, "Come on, men. We will show them

how to charge." As they pressed forward he fell--"the bravest man the

Camerons have lost."

Rifleman Kulbir Thapa, 2nd Battalion, 3rd Queen Alexandra's Own Gurkha

Rifles.

This gallant Gurkha, though badly hit, found a wounded man of the 2nd

Leicestershire Regiment behind the first-line German trench, and strove

to help him in. The British soldier urged him to save himself; but the

Indian refused to leave his white comrade, and remained with him all day

and night. In the early morning of 26th September, when a mist hung over

the battlefield, he managed to get the Leicestershire man into a

sheltered place. He then went out again and brought in two wounded

Gurkhas. Finally he returned to the British soldier, and in full view of

the enemy staggered with his burden across the zone of fire into safety.

Private Robert Dunsire, 13th Battalion, Royal Scots.

Private Dunsire, who was a collier before the war and had only been

married six months when he enlisted, was one of that noble band who

freely risked limb and life to save others. He was sitting on the

parapet of a trench on Hill 70 when he saw a wounded comrade crawling

painfully along. At once he made a dive out of the trench, got the

wounded man on his back, and brought him in. A quarter of an hour later,

he spied and rescued another poor fellow in distress. "This time," he

said, "it was worse than the first, as the shells were bursting all

around, and the snipers kept up a continuous fire." Early in February

1916 the sad news arrived that he had been killed.

Corporal James Dalgleish Pollock, 5th Battalion, Cameron Highlanders.

About noon on 27th September, when the enemy's bombers in superior

numbers were working up the "Little Willie" towards the Hohenzollern

Redoubt, Corporal Pollock got out of his trench, and walking along the

top edge reached a position from which he was able to bomb the bombers

from above. He was under heavy machine-gun fire the whole time, but was

not wounded for a whole hour, during which time he prevented the Germans

from advancing.

Corporal Alfred Alexander Burt, 1st Battalion, Hertfordshire Regiment

(T.F.).

At Cuinchy on 27th September Corporal Burt's company had lined the front

trench, ready for an attack, when a bomb from a trench mortar fell

amongst them. In a moment Corporal Burt rushed forward, put his foot on

the fuse, wrenched it out of the bomb, and threw it over the parapet,

thus rendering the terrible missile harmless. His presence of mind and

great pluck saved the lives of his men in the traverse.

Second Lieutenant Alexander Buller Turnbull, 3rd Battalion (attached 1st

Battalion), Royal Berkshire Regiment.

On 28th September, when his regimental bombers could not make headway at

Fosse 8, Lieutenant Turnbull went along a communication trench

practically alone, and threw bombs so quickly and accurately that he

drove back the Germans about 150 yards. By his gallantry he enabled the

reserves to advance and to cover his regiment in its retirement.

Unhappily this hero died shortly afterwards of wounds.

CHAPTER XLVI.

BRAVEST OF THE BRAVE.--II.

Second Lieutenant Arthur James Terence Fleming-Sandes, 2nd Battalion,

East Surrey Regiment.

Lieutenant Fleming-Sandes saved the situation at Hohenzollern Redoubt on

29th September, when his own men and the troops on his right were

beginning to retire owing to the heavy fire and their lack of bombs.

Collecting a few grenades, he leaped on to the parapet and flung them at

the Germans, then only twenty yards away. An enemy bomb wounded him, but

he struggled to his feet and went forward, still hurling his missiles at

the enemy. Again he was hit, and this time was put out of action; but

his gallant example had put new heart into his men, and they beat off

the attack.

Private Samuel Harvey, 1st Battalion, York and Lancaster Regiment.

Private Harvey was in the "Big Willie" trench on 29th September, when

the enemy were heavily attacking and our supply of bombs ran short. He

volunteered to fetch more, and went to and fro across the open, under

fearful fire, carrying boxes of grenades. He managed to bring up no less

than thirty boxes before he was wounded in the head. By his cool bravery

he enabled his comrades to drive back the enemy.

Lance-Sergeant Oliver Brooks, 3rd Battalion, Coldstream Guards.

Near Loos on 8th October, when a strong party of the enemy had captured

200 yards of our trenches, Lance-Sergeant Brooks, without waiting for

orders, led forward a party of bombers with such fine dash and

determination that the ground was regained. On 28th October the King,

who was visiting his troops at the front, was thrown from his horse, and

was badly bruised and shaken. His Majesty bore his sufferings with great

fortitude, and while lying in a hospital train on the way home, desired

that Lance-Sergeant Brooks should be brought to him to receive the

Victoria Cross. The soldier knelt on the floor of the saloon and bent

over the prostrate King; but his Majesty was so weak that he could not

pin the decoration on the hero's breast. The incident was most

touching--the King, helpless and suffering, yet determined to do honour

to a gallant soldier who had served his country nobly. King and soldier,

each in his sphere, thus set the nation an inspiring example of devotion

to duty.

[Illustration: His Majesty the King and Lance-Sergeant Oliver Brooks.

(_From the drawing by S. Begg. By permission of The Illustrated London

News._)]

Second Lieutenant Rupert Price Hallowes, 4th Battalion, Middlesex

Regiment.

At Hooge, between 25th September and 1st October, Lieutenant Hallowes

over and over again inspired his men by his bravery and untiring energy.

On one occasion he climbed on to the parapet and risked immediate death

to encourage his comrades. Frequently he went forward into German

positions during the night to spy out the land. During one of the

attacks he went back under a heavy fire and brought up a fresh supply of

bombs. Even when mortally wounded he continued to cheer his men and urge

them to hold on.

Sergeant-Major John Crawshaw Raynes, "A" Battery, 71st Brigade, R.F.A.

When taking leave of his comrades before setting out for France,

Sergeant-Major Raynes said to a chum, "I'll bet you a shilling I win the

V.C." The wager was taken, and on 11th October, near Béthune, the

sergeant won his bet. His battery had been very heavily bombarded, and

when "Cease fire" was ordered he went out under a burst of heavy shells

and bandaged Sergeant Ayres, who lay wounded forty yards in front. He

then returned and worked his guns once more. During a pause in the

firing he again went out to his friend and carried him into a dug-out. A

gas shell burst at the mouth of the dug-out, and the wounded man was in

peril of being suffocated. Seeing this, Sergeant-Major Raynes ran back

across the open to fetch his gas helmet, which Sergeant Ayres donned and

thus saved his life. Then the gallant Sergeant-Major, now badly gassed,

staggered back to serve his guns once more. On 12th October he was

buried in the ruins of a house, but was the first man to be rescued. He

had been wounded in the head and the leg; nevertheless he worked might

and main to save his comrades. As soon as his wounds were dressed he

returned again to his battery.

Second Lieutenant C. G. Vickers, 1/7th (Robin Hood) Battery, Sherwood

Foresters.

You will remember that on 13th October a division, consisting of

Territorials from Leicester, Lincoln, Nottingham, Derby, Grimsby, and

other North Midland towns, was ordered to assault the Hohenzollern

Redoubt. "It is a story of men attacking machine guns, of rushes across

the open with no spot of cover, of fierce work with bomb and bayonet in

a narrow trench. What flesh and blood could do they did." The Sherwood

Foresters were sent in on the afternoon of the 13th, and bombing

encounters went on all night. When reliefs were arrived at one o'clock

on the morning of the 14th, Lieutenant Vickers was discovered holding a

barrier against fierce German attacks from front and flank. All his men

but two had been killed or wounded, and single-handed he was beating

back the foe while his men built a barrier behind him. At last he was

badly wounded, but not before he had secured the safety of his trench.

Corporal James Lennox Dawson, 187th Company, R.E.

Prior to the war Corporal Dawson was a science master in Hill's Trust

School, Govan. On 13th October, at Hohenzollern Redoubt, we prepared a

gas attack against the enemy. Corporal Dawson, who had already proved

himself a gallant and resourceful leader, discovered that three of our

gas cylinders were leaking, and that many of our own men would soon be

rendered insensible by the fumes. Under a heavy fire he rolled the

cylinders one by one out of the trench, and then returning, lay down and

fired at them with a rifle. The cylinders were broken open, and the gas

escaped towards the enemy. There is no doubt that by his cool gallantry

he saved many men from being gassed. You may be sure that when the hero

visited his old school he was received by his former pupils with

rapturous applause.

Private Thomas Kenny, 13th (Service) Battalion, Durham Light Infantry.

On the thick foggy night of 4th November Lieutenant Brown and Private

Kenny went out towards the German lines on patrol. They were sighted by

the enemy, and Lieutenant Brown was shot in both thighs. He begged his

companion to leave him, but Kenny would not do so. He took the wounded

officer on his back, and for more than an hour crawled about under

heavy fire, trying to find his way back. At last, when quite exhausted,

he reached a ditch which he recognized, and, placing the lieutenant in

it, went on alone to look for help. At last he came across a listening

patrol, and with help brought in the wounded man. During the last part

of the journey the Germans fired on him with rifles and machine guns,

and threw bombs at him from a distance of thirty yards.

Private John Caffrey, 2nd Battalion, York and Lancaster Regiment.

On 16th November Private Caffrey and Corporal Stirk, R.A.M.C., started

out to rescue a comrade lying about three or four hundred yards in front

of the enemy's trenches. They were beaten back by shrapnel fire, but

nothing daunted they pushed out again, and in spite of the bullets of

snipers and machine guns reached the wounded man. A bullet struck

Corporal Stirk in the head just as he was lifting the man on to

Caffrey's back. At once the gallant private put down his burden,

bandaged Stirk, and helped him into safety. He then returned and brought

in the other wounded man. Three times he had crossed the zone of fire on

his errands of mercy.

Corporal Samuel Meekosha, 1/6th Battalion, West Yorkshire Regiment

(T.F.).

On 19th November, near the Yser, a platoon was holding a trench close to

the German lines when the enemy's shells burst upon it, killing and

wounding thirteen men and burying the rest. At this terrible moment

Corporal Meekosha took command, sent a runner for assistance, and in

full view of the enemy dug out his comrades and saved at least four

lives.

Corporal Alfred Drake, 8th Battalion, Rifle Brigade.

Corporal Drake was out on patrol with an officer and two men on the

night of 23rd November. When close to the German lines the party was

discovered. One man who was shot down was carried off by his comrades,

and when the officer fell Corporal Drake remained with him. When last

seen, he was kneeling beside the officer bandaging his wounds, quite

regardless of the heavy fire. A rescue party crawled out later on, and

found the officer unconscious but alive, and Corporal Drake beside him,

dead and riddled with bullets.

Shoeing-Smith Charles Hull, 21st Lancers.

Somewhere in Flanders, when the Lancers were under heavy fire, Captain

Learoyd's horse was shot under him, and he fell to the ground.

Shoeing-smith Charles Hull, seeing his officer's peril, galloped into

the storm of fire, and taking up the captain behind him, dashed back

into safety. It was a striking deed, and the shoeing-smith fully

deserved the highest award of valour for his prompt and gallant rescue.

Private Harry Christian, 2nd Battalion, Royal Lancaster Regiment.

The Germans had opened fire with trench mortars on five or six of our

men who were holding a crater. When the order was given to withdraw it

was discovered that three men were missing. At once Private Christian

returned to rescue them. While bombs were continually bursting on the

edge of the crater, he dug out the men from under a heap of earth, and

carried them, one by one, into safety. Later on, he placed himself where

he could see the bombs coming, and directed his comrades when and where

to seek cover.

Private William Young, 8th Battalion, East Lancashire Regiment.

On 22nd December, seeing that his sergeant had been wounded, Private

Young went out under a very heavy fire to rescue him, and almost

immediately received terrible injuries, both his jaws being shattered.

Nevertheless, with the help of a comrade, he brought in the sergeant. At

the dressing-station, to which he went unaided, it was discovered that

this most gallant man had also received a bullet in his chest. Happily,

he survived.

* * * * *

Nurse Cavell--Heroine and Martyr.

The heroic woman whose tragic story I am now about to relate finds a

fitting place in this roll of heroes. Miss Cavell was the daughter of

the Rev. Frederick Cavell, for forty years Vicar of Swardeston, Norfolk.

She was trained as a nurse at the London Hospital, and in 1900 became

head of a nursing institution in Brussels. Every one who knew her

admired her noble character; she followed in the footsteps of the

greatest of all nurses--Florence Nightingale.

[Illustration: The Martyrdom of Edith Cavell.

(_From the picture by A. Forestier. By permission of The Illustrated

London News._)

When the news of Nurse Cavell's murder was received, the following

message was sent to her mother: "By command of the King and Queen I

write to assure you that the hearts of their Majesties go out to you in

your bitter sorrow, and to express their horror at the appalling deed

which has robbed you of your child. Men and women throughout the

civilized world, while sympathizing with you, are moved to admiration

and awe at her faith and courage in death."]

When the Germans occupied Brussels Nurse Cavell was allowed to remain at

the head of her hospital. She and her assistants nursed German and

Belgian wounded with equal devotion. During the retreat of the Allies

from Namur and Mons a large number of British and French soldiers were

cut off or lost their units. Many of them were discovered and shot;

others hid themselves in trenches, woods, or deserted houses, and some

of them were sheltered by friendly farmers, who gave them civilian

clothing and helped them to escape into Holland. Many Belgian soldiers

also lay in hiding, waiting for a chance to get out of the country. Some

of the fugitives, hearing of Nurse Cavell, managed to get into touch

with her, and asked her to help them to escape. This she did. She

believed that she was only doing her duty to her country in coming to

their assistance.

Spies informed the Germans of what she was doing, and on August 5, 1915,

she was arrested and put in prison. Mr. Brand Whitlock, the American

Minister in Brussels, pleaded for her, but in vain. Her trial began on

7th October, and she was found guilty of acting as a spy. The Germans

kept the sentence as secret as possible, and on the evening of Monday,

11th October, Miss Cavell was informed that she would be shot at two

o'clock the next morning.

The British chaplain who visited Miss Cavell on the eve of her execution

found her very calm and resigned. "She was brave and bright to the last.

She professed her Christian faith, and said that she was glad to die for

her country."

It is said that the final scene was horrible. Miss Cavell, so it was

reported, fainted on the way to execution, and was shot by the officer

in command of the firing party as she lay unconscious. When the news

leaked out a wave of horror and loathing swept over all the

world--except Germany. At home Nurse Cavell was mourned alike in palace

and in cottage. A memorial service was held in St. Paul's, and many

plans were proposed for keeping her beautiful memory green. On the

battlefield our men charged with the cry, "For Miss Cavell!" and the

French hailed her as a new Joan of Arc. In the long, black list of

German atrocities there is no more inhuman deed than the murder of Nurse

Cavell.

CHAPTER XLVII.

THE WAR IN THE AIR.

Over and over in these pages you have read of "airy navies grappling in

the central blue." Every soldier, fighting his battles over again by the

home fireside, loves to describe the aeroplanes that hovered above his

trench while white, fleecy clouds of shrapnel burst around them. No

returning soldier but can thrill his hearers with stories of deadly

combats in the high heavens. The exploits of aircraft in this war open a

new chapter of military history.

Nothing is more remarkable than the rapid progress which has been made

in the conquest of the air. In October 1897 a daring man succeeded in

flying about three hundred yards; in October 1915 men frequently made

flights of hundreds of miles. Twenty years ago the aeroplane was

unknown; to-day it is a recognized arm of warfare. No army or navy dare

enter upon war without its air service.

Our French allies were the pioneers of these new powers of the air, and

when war broke out they were well equipped with aircraft. It is said

that at the close of the year 1915 they possessed more than three

thousand aeroplanes, and that the number was being constantly increased.

French aircraft are divided into three classes, according as they are to

be used for scouting, for fire control, or for bombardment. The scouting

machines are of various kinds, and include a new type of small machine

known as the "Baby" Nieuport. This machine, which only carries a pilot,

is no more than 25 feet wide, but it has a motor of 80 horse-power, and

can attain the amazing speed of 120 miles an hour. The "Baby" Nieuports

can rise higher and quicker than an eagle.

[Illustration: A German Machine brought down and fired by a British

Battle-plane.

(_From the drawing by John de G. Bryan. By permission of The Illustrated

London News._)

This picture illustrates the splendid feat by which Second Lieutenant

Insall won the Victoria Cross. (See page 384.)]

The machines used for directing artillery fire are bigger, and carry one

or more observers as well as the pilot. They usually have two motors,

so that they can still fly if one of them is put out of action. For

making raids still bigger machines are used. In 1915 the French pinned

their faith to a giant triplane, which well deserved to be called "the

Dreadnought of the Air." It was 63 feet from wing to wing; it was driven

by four powerful motors, carried two quick-firing cannon and four

machine guns, as well as 1,200 pounds of explosives, and on a raid was

manned by a crew of four men.

You have frequently read in these pages of the scouting work done by

aeroplanes. When they fly over the enemy's lines they have huge cameras

fitted to the bodies of the machines. Exposures are made, and the

machine speeds back to its own lines, usually amid a storm of bursting

shrapnel. Every aerodrome has a dark room in which the plates are

developed. An enlargement is made, and the staff is thus provided with a

picture of the German trenches as seen from above. If a good photograph

is taken, the positions appear as clear as daylight; even the barbed

wire and the situation and number of the machine guns can be seen. Poor

photographs, however, do not show the details, and cannot distinguish a

trench from a watercourse. Sometimes large kites are used for

photographic purposes.

You can easily understand what a great change the aeroplane has produced

in warfare when I tell you that during the Russo-Japanese War the

Japanese fought for weeks, and sacrificed thousands of men, in order to

capture the top of a hill from which their observers could overlook Port

Arthur. Nowadays an aeroplane can supply all the information needed in a

single hour, and howitzers can be directed from the air so that their

shells will drop on the required position, though the gunners cannot

possibly see their targets.

A modern general would be almost lost without his air service. From dawn

to dark aircraft hover over the enemy's position, photographing his

trenches, "spotting" his batteries, noticing the movement of troops and

trains, and bringing back priceless information. More than once French

aeroplanes have landed spies behind the German lines, and have returned

to pick them up again days later.

We British were the last of the great European nations to apply

themselves to the air, but by the outbreak of war we were well equipped.

The British Royal Flying Corps consisted of a military and a naval wing.

Each wing was divided into squadrons, consisting of twenty-four

aeroplanes and twenty-four pilots, under a major or commander. The

squadron was in turn divided into six flights, each flight comprising

four machines. Every squadron had its own motor wagons and armoured

motor cars. Our airmen, if they were not so skilful as the French, were

competent and very daring, and had been trained to act with other arms.

The Germans at first gave most of their attention to airships, but they

were also provided with a strong force of aeroplanes. The Austrian

service, though it contained some skilful pilots, was much inferior to

that of Germany; while the Russians were short of machines, though they

possessed giant biplanes which could carry over a ton weight of

explosives.

As far back as Christmas Day, 1914, our airmen made raids upon fortified

places in Germany. Seven seaplanes, escorted by cruisers and submarines,

flew over Cuxhaven, where German warships were lying, and dropped bombs

which, it is said, destroyed one or more Zeppelin sheds. Three of the

aviators returned to the escorting ships safely; three others, who were

rescued by submarines, had to destroy their machines in order to prevent

them from falling into the hands of the enemy; and the seventh was

picked up by a Dutch trawler. On January 22, 1915, another raid was made

by two of our aviators on the new German naval base of Zeebrugge. A

submarine lying in the harbour was destroyed, and probably other damage

was done. Commander Davies, one of the two British aviators, had a most

adventurous home journey. At one time he was surrounded by seven of the

enemy's craft. He managed to elude them, however, and returned safely,

but slightly wounded.

Raids such as these increased in number as the year advanced. On 11th

February thirty-four of our seaplanes and aeroplanes made another attack

on Zeebrugge, under the leadership of Commander Samson, whose daring has

already been mentioned in these pages.[78] Great damage was done, and

five days later the visit was repeated. Forty machines, including eight

belonging to the French, dropped bombs on various batteries and gun

positions, on an aerodrome, and on mine-sweepers off the shore. During

the Battle of Neuve Chapelle the railways in the rear of the German

lines were bombarded, and the junction at Courtrai, seventeen miles east

of Ypres, was destroyed. On a later page I shall tell you how Second

Lieutenant W. B. Rhodes-Moorhouse won the Victoria Cross and lost his

life during this raid. On 7th June two of our airmen destroyed an

airshed and a Zeppelin north of Brussels.

It is impossible in these pages to describe all the air raids of the

year. Each was much like the other, except for the number of the

machines engaged and the extent of the damage done. As an illustration,

I will give you a brief account of the great French raid on the German

city of Karlsruhe on 3rd June. It was made in retaliation for Zeppelin

raids on open French and British towns, and was the biggest enterprise

of the kind so far undertaken. Twenty-three aeroplanes set out at the

first flush of dawn. Mr. E. A. Powell in _Vive la France_ thus describes

the progress of the raid:--

"So rapid was the pace at which the aeroplanes were travelling

that it was not yet six o'clock when the commander of the

squadron, peering through his glasses, saw, far below him, the

yellow gridiron which he knew to be the streets, the splotches

of green which he knew to be the parks, and the squares of red

and gray which he knew to be the buildings of Karlsruhe. The

first warning that the townsfolk had was when a dynamite shell

came plunging out of nowhere and exploded with a crash that

rocked the city to its foundations. The people of Karlsruhe were

being given a dose of the same medicine which the Zeppelins had

given to Antwerp, to Paris, and to London. . . . For nearly an

hour it rained bombs. Holes as large as cellars suddenly

appeared in the stone-paved streets and squares; buildings of

brick and stone and concrete crashed to the ground as though

flattened by the hand of God; fires broke out in various

quarters of the city and raged unchecked; the terrified

inhabitants cowered in their cellars or ran in blind panic for

the open country; the noise was terrific, for bombs were falling

at the rate of a dozen to the minute; beneath that rain of death

Karlsruhe rocked and reeled."

Of the four squadrons which set out for Karlsruhe only two machines

failed to return. The Germans were furious, and the Kaiser telegraphed

his "deep indignation at the wicked attack on beloved Karlsruhe." He had

conveniently forgotten the murderous raids of his own Zeppelins.

[Footnote 78: See Vol. III., page 74.]

CHAPTER XLVIII.

HEROES OF THE AIR.

Before I describe very briefly the Zeppelin raids upon England, let me

set down the names and exploits of the five gallant airmen who were

awarded the Victoria Cross during the year 1915.

Second Lieutenant William Barnard Rhodes-Moorhouse, Royal Flying Corps.

The first Victoria Cross ever conferred on an airman was won by

Lieutenant Rhodes-Moorhouse, for extraordinary daring and endurance

during the raid on Courtrai, which I mentioned on page 381. While

dropping his bombs he descended to 300 feet, and was furiously assailed

by anti-aircraft guns, which seriously wounded him in the thigh. He

determined to save his machine at all costs, and made for home, flying

at a height of only 100 feet. Though again wounded, he did not lose

control of his machine, but flew thirty-five miles to his base, where he

landed and made his report as if nothing had happened. Shortly

afterwards he died in hospital of his wounds.

Flight Sub-Lieutenant R. A. J. Warneford, R.N.

On the morning of June 7, 1915, Lieutenant Warneford, who was flying in

a very light monoplane, sighted a Zeppelin between Ghent and Brussels,

and made straight for it. While approaching it he was too low, and was

fired at by the Zeppelin's guns. Keeping to the rear of the airship, he

climbed upwards by a series of jerks, until he was well above it. Then

he swooped down until he was only fifty feet above the great gas bag,

and dropped six bombs, the last of which burst the Zeppelin's envelope.

A loud explosion followed, and the airship fell to the ground in the

midst of smoke and flame. The force of the explosion turned his machine

upside down, but he succeeded in righting it. Shortly afterwards his

pressure pump failed to work, and he was obliged to come down in the

German lines. He got out of the machine, repaired the pump, scrambled

in again, and soared off. For two and a half hours he continued flying,

and then he came down, happily behind his own lines. He was so weary

that he fell fast asleep by the side of the machine, and was finally

discovered by French soldiers only twenty yards from the cliffs of

Gris-nez.[79] The story of his brilliant feat was flashed over the

world, and his name at once became a household word in two continents.

He had, by superb courage and skill, destroyed the first of the

Zeppelins in flight. The Allies vied with each other in doing him

honour; but, alas! his career, which promised so much, was soon brought

to a close. Ten days later, while trying a new machine at Versailles, he

was thrown out and killed.

Captain Lance George Hawker, D.S.O., Royal Engineers and Royal Flying

Corps.

On 19th April Captain Hawker dropped bombs on a German airshed from a

height of only 200 feet. He was under heavy fire all the time, and ran

terrible risks. To avoid the shells hurled at him, he took refuge behind

a German captive balloon, and was enabled to make good his escape. For

this feat he was awarded the Distinguished Service Order. On 25th July,

when flying alone, he fell in with three German aeroplanes, and attacked

them one after the other. The first escaped, but he damaged the second

and third so badly that they were forced to descend. For this splendid

feat he received the V.C.

Captain John Aidan Liddell, 3rd Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders and

Royal Flying Corps.

During a scouting flight from Ostend to Ghent an enemy shot broke

Captain Liddell's thigh, smashed the control wheel, and otherwise

damaged his machine. For a brief time he was unconscious, and his

machine dropped nearly 3,000 feet. With a great effort he pulled himself

together, and, though continually fired at, managed to bring his

aeroplane into our own lines half an hour after he had been wounded.

Only an airman can appreciate the extraordinary skill and determination

which the wounded officer displayed.

Second Lieutenant Gilbert Stuart Martin Insall, No. 11 Squadron, Royal

Flying Corps.

On 7th November Lieutenant Insall was out patrolling with a mechanic as

gunner, when he was sighted and attacked by a German machine. With great

skill he got to close range with his opponent, and his gunner fired a

drum of cartridges which brought the German aeroplane to the ground.

When the Germans scrambled out of their machine Lieutenant Insall dived

towards them, and his gunner opened fire on them and they fled. An enemy

party now fired at him; but, undeterred, he dropped a bomb on the fallen

machine and set it on fire. He then flew over the German positions, and

descended so low that his gunner was able to fire on the German trenches

as they passed over them. His petrol tank was damaged, and he was forced

to land in a wood inside our lines. At once the enemy's artillery opened

fire on him, and some 150 shells fell around the machine as it lay on

the ground. That night, behind screened lights, he repaired his machine,

and at dawn flew home safely with his gunner.

Squadron Commander Richard Bell Davies, D.S.O., R.N.

Commander Davies was the hero of one of the most striking incidents

known to aerial warfare. On 19th November lieutenant Smylie made a raid

upon the Turkish railway station of Ferijik, on the Turkish river

Maritza. He planed down over the station, and dropped all his bombs but

one. While doing so his machine was badly hit, and he had to come to

earth in a neighbouring marsh. In order to prevent the enemy from

capturing his machine he set it on fire. He had hardly done so when he

saw Commander Davies coming to his rescue. Fearing that the commander

would descend near the burning machine, and thus run the risk of being

blown up by the remaining bomb, Lieutenant Smylie took out a pistol,

fired at the missile and exploded it. Then Commander Davies swooped

down, picked up the lieutenant, and hurried off with all speed into

safety. Seldom, if ever, has such a feat of pluck and gallantry been

performed.

[Footnote 79: _Gree-nay´_, French cape fronting the Strait of Dover.]

CHAPTER XLIX.

THE COMING OF THE ZEPPELINS.

On page 144 of our first volume I gave you a brief account of the great

airship invented by Count Zeppelin and called after his name. It is said

that the newest type of Zeppelin is about 700 feet long, and has

eighteen compartments, which hold about a million cubic feet of

hydrogen. Each compartment is a separate balloon, and in theory the

airship can remain afloat if two of the balloons are damaged. The

framework is of wood and aluminium. The engines, guns, stores, and crew

are contained in two cars or gondolas, which are built into the

framework of the airship, almost flush with its keel. The engines are

four in number, and drive the propellers, a pair being coupled to each

car, two forward and two astern. When they are working they make a

terrible din, and a Zeppelin thus advertises his approach.

Some of the latest vessels have a speed of from forty to sixty miles an

hour. Two sets of rudders are provided--one set for steering the ship

horizontally, and one set to guide it when ascending or descending. It

can ascend with remarkable speed--it is said that a modern Zeppelin can

soar upwards at a speed of 4,500 feet per minute, and can reach the

safety zone of about 12,000 feet almost before artillery on the ground

has secured the range. A large Zeppelin can carry about seventeen tons,

of which about two tons consist of explosives. All Zeppelins are fitted

with powerful searchlights, and a car which can be let down from the

gondola by steel ropes so as to enable the men in it to make

observations from a lower level. The weakest part of a Zeppelin is its

upper envelope. Attacking aeroplanes always endeavour to rise above the

airship in order to drop bombs upon it. You will remember that Warneford

destroyed his Zeppelin in this way.

[Illustration: Sub-Lieutenant Warneford bombing a Zeppelin in Mid-air.

(_By permission of The Graphic._)

A description of this exploit, which won Sub-Lieutenant Warneford the

Victoria Cross, is given on page 382.]

Before the war a Zeppelin had travelled 1,800 miles on a single journey,

and had remained in the air for thirty-five hours at a stretch. I have

already told you that the Germans had built great airship sheds on the

island of Heligoland. From this base to Yarmouth, on the east coast of

England, is a distance of only 280 miles. It was, therefore, clear that,

given suitable weather, a Zeppelin could not only cross the North Sea

and return, but could sail over large areas of Great Britain as well.

The Germans had long dreamed of making Zeppelin raids on London and

destroying it by means of big bombs; but most people in this country

laughed at the notion. We pinned our faith to the aeroplane, and

believed the Zeppelin to be little more than an expensive failure. No

real efforts were, therefore, made to cope with the threatened danger. A

few anti-aircraft guns were stationed round the capital, searchlights

were installed, street lamps were obscured, and windows were darkened,

but that was all.

On the evening of January 19, 1915, the people of Yarmouth were startled

by the sound of loud explosions in their streets. The Zeppelins had at

last arrived. Bombs were dropped, two persons were killed, houses were

wrecked, and holes were blown in the streets. The raiders then flew to

Sandringham and King's Lynn, at both of which places bombs were dropped.

Happily the King and Queen had left their Norfolk home for London on the

previous morning. At King's Lynn four houses were destroyed, several

others were damaged, and the widow of a soldier and a boy of fourteen

were killed. People stood aghast at this new form of German

"frightfulness." It was directed not against fortresses or places of

military importance, but against peaceful civilians in open, unprotected

towns. It was sheer murder, and was intended to terrorize the British

people and bring them to their knees. The Germans have never been able

to understand our national temper. They had still to learn that such

blows only weld us the more firmly together, and steel us to greater

resistance. Every Zeppelin raid brought flocks of fresh recruits to our

banners.

A month later a German aeroplane appeared over the Essex coast and

dropped bombs on and near Colchester, but no lives were lost. The summer

air campaign began in earnest on 14th April, when airships appeared on

Tyneside and attempted to destroy the great shipbuilding yards. Bombs

were dropped, but almost at random, and very little damage was done,

probably because the pilot was out of his reckoning. There were three

other raids on the East Coast in the same month; but though houses were

wrecked, no lives were lost. On 10th May Southend was attacked. At the

first alarm people left their beds and rushed into the streets half

dressed. They could see the body of the Zeppelin outlined against the

sky, and the bombs falling like balls of fire. Many houses were

destroyed, and others blazed furiously, but only one person was

killed--the wife of a labourer. During the first nine months of the war

the results of the air raids must have been very disappointing to the

Germans. Half a dozen people had been killed, a few had been injured,

and damage to the extent of some hundred thousand pounds had been done.

The Germans were soon to improve on this record. "London has not felt it

yet," they said.

A week later a Zeppelin passed over Ramsgate, on which it dropped two

dozen bombs, happily without causing any loss of life, and then over

Broadstairs and Dover. News of this raid had been sent to the station of

the Royal Naval Air Service at Dunkirk, and eight seaplanes at once set

out to intercept the Zeppelin. Flight-Commander Bigsworth dropped four

bombs on the airship, but it managed to get home, though seriously

damaged. On 26th May there was another raid on Southend just as the

people were leaving places of entertainment. A lady visitor and a little

girl, seven years old, were killed, and others were gravely injured.

The first attack on London was made on the last day of May. The

Zeppelins passed over Colchester at ten o'clock in the evening, and

twenty-three minutes later were dropping bomb after bomb on the most

crowded part of the East End of London. Six people were killed, amongst

them a little girl of three, who was burnt in her bed. Many houses burst

into flames, and a great deal of damage was done. Earlier in the month

German tradesmen, who had been allowed to remain and carry on business

in London, had been mobbed; now the people, angered by the murderous

raid, attacked their shops, and in many cases wrecked them. In June the

raiders once more visited the East and North-East Coast. On 6th June

they reached a town on the East Coast during the night and dropped many

bombs on it. A large drapery house was destroyed, but a beautiful Norman

church hard by escaped almost uninjured. Twenty-four persons were killed

and about sixty others seriously wounded during the attack. The outrage

was speedily avenged by Lieutenant Warneford, who, you will remember,

destroyed a Zeppelin in Belgium the next day.

On 15th June there was another raid on the North-East Coast. A number of

workmen ran out of their shops to see the Zeppelins, and were caught by

the bomb explosions. Some sixteen of them were killed, while thirteen

others were injured. Only one raid, and that an unsuccessful one, took

place in July; but in August there were three, all of them on a large

scale, and all on the eastern counties. On 9th August Zeppelins swept

over a large area and killed one man, nine women, and four children,

besides wounding at least fourteen others. One of the Zeppelins was

damaged, and on the homeward voyage was attacked and destroyed by our

aircraft.

On the 12th the visit was repeated, and three men, eleven women, and

nine children fell victims to the bombs, while many others were badly

injured, and numerous houses were wrecked. One bomb fell into the middle

of a little crowd of old men, women, and young children standing at a

street corner in a little country town, and worked frightful havoc.

Though the Zeppelins were attacked by anti-aircraft guns, they succeeded

in escaping. The third raid was on 17th August, when ten persons were

killed and thirty-six persons were injured, including three children. In

this case, too, the Zeppelins came under the fire of our guns, and

perhaps, as in the former case, one of them was hit.

By this time it was evident that we were without proper means of defence

against the enemy airships. They could come and go almost at will, and

scatter death and destruction amongst us almost unchecked. After every

raid the German newspapers published glowing accounts of the destruction

which had been wrought. One of them said, "We cannot rain bombs enough

on England." Our Government had given us only the briefest accounts of

the raids, and people began to ask why they could not be told the whole

truth. Mr. Balfour said that it was necessary to keep the Germans in

ignorance of what they had done, and it would be folly to give them

information which would help them on future voyages. Up to the end of

August, he told us, no soldier or sailor had been killed, and only seven

had been wounded. Only on one occasion had damage of military importance

been done.

Raids were made on London on the evenings of 7th and 8th September. On

the first night outlying districts were attacked, and on the following

night bombs were dropped in the very heart of the city. The Zeppelins

arrived between ten and eleven o'clock, when the places of amusement

were open, and the streets were full of people. Suddenly the sound of

explosion after explosion was heard. An American writer thus described

the scene:--

"Traffic is at a standstill. A million quiet cries make a

subdued roar. Seven million people of the biggest city in the

world stand gazing into the sky from the darkened streets. . . .

Among the autumn stars floats a long, gaunt Zeppelin. It is dull

yellow--the colour of the harvest moon. The long fingers of

searchlights, reaching up from the roofs of the city, are

touching all sides of the death messenger with their white tips.

Great booming sounds shake the city. They are Zeppelin

bombs--falling, killing, burning. Lesser noises--of

shooting--are nearer at hand, the noise of aerial guns sending

shrapnel into the sky. . . . If the men up there think they are

terrifying London, they are wrong. They are only making England

white-hot mad."

Many people were killed, great fires arose, but no important public

building was damaged. The Germans reported that they had practically

wrecked London; but though they had done mischief enough, the result

fell very, very far short of their boastful claims. Shortly afterwards

Admiral Sir Percy Scott was placed in charge of the air defences of the

capital.

There were four raids on the East Coast in September, and on 13th

October London and parts of the eastern counties were again attacked. In

London alone thirty-two persons were killed and ninety-five injured, and

the total casualties of that night were fifty-six killed and one hundred

and thirteen wounded. A cry now arose that our aircraft should treat

German towns to a dose of their own medicine; but there were many who

believed that we ought not to repay evil for evil, and that reprisals

would not bring the war any nearer to its close.

The October raid was the last which took place during the year 1915. On

twenty several occasions during that year the Zeppelins had paid visits

to various parts of the East Coast of England. They had murdered no

fewer than 199 people, and had inflicted injuries upon 421 others.

CHAPTER L.

THE OVERRUNNING OF SERBIA.

December 1914 saw Serbia gloriously victorious; December 1915 saw her

plunged in hopeless defeat, the remnants of her army on alien soil, her

people in bondage, her aged king a fugitive. Since that August day when

the Austrians "let slip the dogs of war" her peasant soldiers had fought

like heroes. Thrice had Serbia been invaded, and thrice had she flung

back the invader; but every success had drained her of lifeblood, and

had brought the hour of her downfall nearer. She must have lost 150,000

men in action, and disease and pestilence had robbed her of another

50,000. The Serbian army was now only 200,000 strong, and there was no

possible hope of increasing it. The Allies could not spare her

reinforcements, nor did she ask for them. She felt that she could still

hold her own, and perhaps she might have done so had not a neighbouring

nation treacherously joined the enemy and flung a large and

well-equipped army upon her flank.

Serbia's eastern neighbour is Bulgaria. I have already told you that

Bulgaria owes her very existence to Russia. In 1878, when the Russians

were nearing Constantinople, they agreed to a treaty by which the

province of Bulgaria was to be formed into a new state. In the next year

the Bulgarians elected a German prince as their sovereign; but his

attempts to increase his territory brought about a quarrel with Russia,

and in 1886 he was forced to give up the throne and leave the country. A

new prince was elected--another German, Ferdinand of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha.

In 1908 Ferdinand declared Bulgaria an independent kingdom, and became

its first king.

On page 313 I told you that just before the fall of Brest the Germans

prepared to force a road from Austria to the Bosphorus. What was the

object of this new move? The Germans were in much the same position as

the British and French: they were cut off from their Allies by hostile

country. As you know, we undertook the ill-starred expedition to

Gallipoli in order to open up communication between the Western Allies

and Russia. The Central Powers were now about to invade Serbia in order

to open up communication between Austria and Bulgaria and Turkey. If

they could get into touch with these Balkan Powers, they could provide

Turkey with munitions and supplies; they could send reinforcements into

Gallipoli, and generally direct the operations of the Bulgarians and the

Turks. Further, they could secure a right of way into Asia Minor, which

would enable them to attack Egypt and perhaps advance to the Persian

Gulf and threaten India. It was also hoped that new supplies of food,

cotton, metals, and men would be tapped.

Look carefully at the map on page 393. Follow the main railway line,

which runs from the Austrian town of Semlin on the Danube through

Belgrade, Nish, and Sophia, the capital of Bulgaria, to Constantinople.

If the Central Powers could capture this railway, they would secure a

through route from Germany to the shores of the Bosphorus. The whole aim

and object of the invasion which I am about to describe was to get

possession of this railway.

What was the plan of campaign? Von Gallwitz, with the great artillery

engine which had driven the Russians back from Galicia into the marshes

of the Pripet, was to cross the Danube between Orsova on the Rumanian

border and Belgrade, and blast his way through the triangle of country

between the railway and the Bulgarian frontier. At the same time the

Austrians were to strike south to the west of Belgrade, and while these

two movements were in progress Bulgaria was to fall upon Serbia from the

east. The little Serbian army was to be taken in front and in flank at

_nine_ different points by forces which outnumbered it by at least three

to one. The invaders were furnished with huge guns and vast supplies of

ammunition, against which the Serbians could not hope to stand. The

moment that the blow was launched the fate of Serbia was sealed.

[Illustration: Map to illustrate the Campaign in Serbia.]

In 1897 Bulgaria proposed to form a league uniting Greece and the Balkan

States against Turkey, and in 1912 the league was formed. Shortly

afterwards the First Balkan War began. Turkey was badly beaten, and much

territory was taken from her; but when the time came for dividing up

the booty the victors fell out and fought amongst themselves. Greece and

Serbia took the field against Bulgaria, and overcame her. Ever since

that time Bulgaria bitterly hated Serbia. Her king, Ferdinand, was a

vain and cunning man, without a spark of personal courage, but with a

keen eye for the main chance, and with no scruples to prevent him from

seizing it. During the present war he watched and waited, and bided his

time. When he saw the Russians retreating day after day, and the British

and French making no progress in Gallipoli or in the West, he felt sure

that Germany would win. He was a German himself, and he was now

prepared to range himself with the Central Powers--at a price. On 17th

July he signed a treaty by which, as a reward for joining the two

Kaisers, he was to receive Serbian Macedonia, Salonika,[80] and some

Greek territory. All August and September he was busy making his

preparations, and by the beginning of October he was ready to obey his

masters' orders, and fall upon Serbia.

Why did not the Allies hasten to the defence of threatened Serbia?

"Thereby hangs a tale." On 11th September the Greek Premier, who

believed that his country ought to stand by its treaty with Serbia and

enter the fray, asked France and Britain for 150,000 troops. About a

fortnight later the Allies agreed to furnish these troops, and the Greek

army began to mobilize. Ferdinand had already called up his armies, but

he told the world that he had only done so for the purpose of

self-defence, and that he had no intention of making war on his

neighbours. Serbia, however, knew better, and towards the end of

September she informed the British that she was not going to wait until

the Bulgarians were fully prepared, but was about to attack them at

once. The British Government persuaded her not to do so, because it

still had hopes that Bulgaria might be persuaded to stay her hand. You

will soon learn that Serbia, by taking the advice of the British

Government, suffered terribly.

By agreement with the Greek Premier, the Allies began to land troops at

the Greek port of Salonika in the first week of October. The Greeks

objected, but did not hinder us; indeed, they helped our army to occupy

the place. Then came a remarkable change of front on the part of the

Greek king. He had married the Kaiser's sister, and he went in fear of

his brother-in-law. Probably he believed that Germany was going to win;

he knew that Bulgaria was strong and Serbia weak, and that the 150,000

troops of the Allies could not turn the balance in his favour. So he

informed his Prime Minister that he had never consented to fight on

behalf of Serbia; whereupon the Prime Minister resigned, and a new

Government was formed. It declared that Greece meant to remain neutral,

though it was very friendly to the Allies.

While our transports were crowding the harbour at Salonika and the

Allies were busy putting the place into a state of defence, Ferdinand

threw off the mask. A week later, on 12th October, when his advance

guards were over the border, he declared war on Serbia. Four days later

Britain declared war upon Bulgaria. Von Mackensen had already crossed

the Danube, and was pressing against the Serbian front with 200,000 men;

a quarter of a million Bulgarians were moving eastwards against the

exposed right flank of Serbia; and in Salonika there were 13,000 French

and British troops preparing to march inland against the Bulgarian left.

Such was the position of affairs on 15th October.

* * * * *

Now let us return to the Danube and briefly follow the stages of

Serbia's agony. By means of the great river, which is linked with the

canals of the Elbe and the Rhine, barges full of big guns and supplies

had been conveyed to the scene of action. On 19th September, before the

big guns arrived, Austrian batteries opened fire on Belgrade; but the

Serbians and the British sailors who were fighting with them prevented a

crossing. On 3rd October the enemy's big guns were placed in position,

and the Serbian trenches were pounded to dust. It was the Donajetz

bombardment all over again. Belgrade could no longer be held, and by the

8th of October the Austrians and Germans had crossed the Danube and the

Save at six places between Shabatz and Belgrade. There was a desperate

struggle in the streets of the capital, but on the morning of the 9th

the place was in the enemy's hands. The lesson of Warsaw had been

learned, and all that was valuable in the city had been carried off.

By 11th October the Austro-Germans held a hundred miles of front on the

south banks of the Save and the Danube. The Serbians had fought

desperately, but they could not stand before the mass of artillery

brought against them. The Serbian left had been forced back towards the

hills on which it had made its first stand against the third Austrian

invasion, the centre had fallen back to a ridge seven miles south of the

capital, and the right was being harried across the river plain and up

the valleys of the Morava and the Mlava. On the Serbian right Mackensen

moved his big guns slowly. He was waiting for the Bulgarians to take the

Serbians in flank and in rear. On the 12th the Bulgarians attacked the

Serbians at five different points, and it was clear that, if the

Serbians were to avoid being completely surrounded, they must retreat,

as the Russians had done. But, unlike the Russians, they had no vast

land into which they could retire. Their only line of withdrawal lay to

the west and south-west, into the bare, rugged highlands of Montenegro

and the wilderness of Albania.

The French and British in the south were by this time struggling

northwards in the attempt to reach Uskub, the great meeting-place of all

routes in Southern Serbia. They were, however, too late: the Bulgarians

entered Uskub on 22nd October, and the Allies were thus cut off from all

communication with the interior.

The Serbians were now in a desperate plight. Along every road and track

left open to the south-west thousands of old men, women, and children

trudged wearily onward, bearing with them the few household goods which

they could carry off. Food was scarce, carts could not be obtained for

love or money, and on the desolate hills thousands of wretched peasants

perished of cold and hunger. By 26th October the whole north-east corner

of Serbia was in the hands of the enemy. The Serbian army which lay

between the Drina and Nish was cut off from that which lay in the shape

of a half-moon in front of the southern Bulgarian army. There was no

more fighting for the northern army; it was slowly but surely being

enclosed, and was now in full retreat along the valley of the river Ibar

on the road to Montenegro. Meanwhile the southern army made a last

despairing effort to stem the Bulgarian advance in the passes between

Prisrend and Monastir, and, having failed, retreated into Albania.

Look at the railway line running from Uskub to Mitrovitza and find the

pass of Katchanik. If the northern army was to get away safely into

Montenegro, the Bulgarians must be prevented from pushing to their rear

and swinging to the north to cut off the retreat. It was therefore

necessary to hold the enemy at Katchanik Pass. Five thousand men, all

that was left of the garrison at Uskub, along with three regiments from

the north, now prepared to make a stand. Their guns were on the heights,

and they had sufficient ammunition for a battle of several days. The

Bulgarians advanced on a fifteen-mile front, but the Serbian guns drove

them back. On the third day the Serbians attacked with bombs and the

bayonet. All night the desperate struggle continued, and after twelve

hours' fighting the Bulgarian line was pierced. But the enemy in

overwhelming strength formed up behind the gap and began to enclose the

little Serbian force. It fell back fighting and joined the retreating

northern army. But it had done its work--the danger of disaster was

over.

Another stand was made at the Babuna Pass, which you will see on the

map, about fifty miles south of Katchanik Pass. You will notice from the

map that if the Bulgarians could get to Prilep no supplies could reach

the Serbians from the south. If, too, the Allies could retake the town

of Veles,[81] Uskub would be threatened, and the Bulgarians would not be

able to follow up the northern army. In the first days of November some

5,000 Serbians actually held the crest of the Babuna Pass for more than

a week. The Allies, however, could make no headway from the south, and

the gallant rearguard, finding six divisions of the enemy before it, was

forced to fall back into Albania.

* * * * *

What of the Allies in Salonika? On 12th October General Sarrail arrived

to take command of the French 2nd Division, which had been brought from

Cape Helles. Before our 10th Division from Suvla was ready to move, the

French moved up country in the hope of joining hands with the Serbians

in the neighbourhood of Uskub. You will see on the map a railway running

up the Vardar to Veles. Along this railway Sarrail moved his troops. It

was a single, grass-grown track, quite inadequate for the advance of an

army. Ninety miles north of Salonika, at a point marked X on the map, it

begins to run through a narrow gorge with steep rocky walls, called the

Iron Gate. If the Bulgarians once gained this ravine, the Allies would

be held up and unable to advance. Early in the month of October

Bulgarian raiders cut the railway at X, but on the 19th the French

advance guards reached the place and drove them out. Four days later the

rest of the division arrived, and detachments which were ferried across

the Vardar seized positions on the left bank of the river, which was

then swollen by the autumn rains. Meanwhile the British 10th Division

extended the French right to Lake Doiran. It was now proposed to capture

a steep wall of mountain which commanded the valley. In order to reach

it the French left had to cross the swollen river once more. It had no

pontoons, but by means of an old ferry-boat a detachment got across. The

French scaled the summit, drove off the Bulgarians who held it, and dug

themselves in. On 4th and 5th November the Bulgarians made a strong

attack on the summit, but were repulsed after fierce fighting at close

quarters.

Now that the French commanded the valley southward, they began to push

on towards the Babuna Pass in order to join hands with the Serbians who

were holding the crest. By the time they were within ten miles of the

Serbian position the Bulgarians were flinging 125,000 men against the

heroic rearguard. The French dared not proceed further. Supplies could

only reach them along a hundred miles of single-line railway, which

might be cut any day; their only means of crossing the Vardar was by a

crazy wooden bridge, and there were twenty miles of bad road in their

rear. The Serbians had already retreated from the Babuna Pass, and an

advance could be of no service to them. Further, the Bulgarians were

trying to cut them off from the bridge. They were, therefore, obliged to

retreat; no other course was open to them. The Allied endeavour had come

to nothing. The French and British fell back on Salonika, and there

remained throughout the winter.

[Illustration: "Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow."

(_From the picture by F. Matania. By permission of the Sphere._)

This picture shows old King Peter and his court retreating on foot

through the snows of winter into the wilds of Albania.]

In those November days heartrending scenes were witnessed on the Serbian

hills, now white with the first snows of winter. Fugitives in ox wagons,

in country carts, and on foot, men, women, and little children, thronged

the roads--a long procession of woe. The army which, a year ago, had

flung the Austrians out of the country, was now a mere remnant of

150,000 famished and weary men. With it marched our British Naval

Brigade and its guns. The devoted doctors and nurses, who had for nine

months been ministering to the wounded and diseased, were scattered far

and wide. By roundabout roads some of them reached the Allies at

Salonika; others gained the Adriatic coast; and some, such as Lady

Paget, remained and trusted to the tender mercies of the Bulgarians.

Retreating with the army were the officials of the Court and the

Government. Perhaps the most pathetic figure of all was the Serbian

King, racked by rheumatism and sore of heart because his age and

infirmities prevented him from fighting in the ranks with his heroic

people. But behind all his sorrows there was a ray of hope. His army,

though but a remnant, was still an army, and not a broken and dispirited

mob. It would live to fight again.

* * * * *

So, for the Allies, the year 1915 closed in gloom. A visitor from Mars,

presented with a map of the German conquests, might have been pardoned

had he proclaimed the two Kaisers victorious. From the Yser to the

Dvina, from the Baltic to the Bosphorus, and thence to the Tigris, they

and their fellow-conspirators were masters of 177,000,000 people. They

had driven the Russians before them; they had made another Belgium of

Serbia; the French and British had failed in their Eastern enterprises,

and could not break through in the West. The Germans loudly boasted of

their triumph; but, to their amazement, there was no sign of

war-weariness or faint-heartedness amongst the Allies. Conscious that

the enemy had passed the first flush of his mighty strength, the Allies

endured the heaviness of the night, and, while waiting for the morning,

"Never doubted clouds would break,

Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph;

Held, we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better,

Sleep to wake."

[Footnote 80: _Sa-lo-neka_, port of Greece on the gulf of the same name,

12 miles to the east of the mouth of the river Vardar. After

Constantinople it is the chief port of what was formerly European

Turkey. The harbour is safe and roomy, and before the war the town had a

population of over 160,000. Salonika is the Thessalonica of the New

Testament.]

[Footnote 81: _Ve-leze._]

END OF VOLUME IV.

PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN.