In The Firing Line 15

In The Firing Line 15

August 29th.

 

The boom of French guns is now in full swing, and we are standing easy

for the moment. Did you get my other letter three days back? Just after

I had finished it, we had the alarm, which proved false, but that night

Germans marched into the town, thinking we had left it. So they say! A

gruff German voice answered a challenge, and 15 rounds rapid fire from

rifles and maxims behind the main road barricade, laid out every man.

Eight hundred were picked up next morning in this one street.

 

An R.E. told me on the canal bridge a maxim fired 9,000 rounds and laid

out another 1,000. The first Germans arriving in one end of this town

were in French uniforms. Luckily, those in the rear were seen and fired

on, stampeding the ammunition mules, scattering the “Sausages,” who

were almost laid out in a few rounds of fire. Lots of “espions” here,

male and female. I have hardly seen a German, except prisoners. Poor

Soames, of the 20th Hussars, was sparrowed first fight. W. Silvertop

(20th Hussars) is hard at it “biffing” Sausages, and a N.C.O.,

yesterday, who had lost the Regiment, told me 48 hours ago he was well.

 

“Cigs.” all arrived, and saved my life, also load of chocolate.

Screaming women rush everywhere during conflicts howling “Trahie,”

“Perdue,” “Sauve qui peut.” One of “D” battery, R.H.A., N.C.O., told

us they had mowed “Sausage-makers” down for ten minutes in one action

as hard as they could load and still they came in masses, till at last

the shrieking men ran all ways, not knowing where, leaving heaps of

semi-moving remnants on the ground.

 

Our crowd, having so far escaped untouched, are very lucky. Several

Brigades have had the devil’s own hail of shot over them. Please send

me some newspapers sometimes, as we have not seen one since I left, bar

some old French _Petit Parisiens_.

 

The Scots Greys from York and the 12th Lancers did great work yesterday

on hostile cavalry, and about wiped out those opposed to them. The

“Guardies” are in great form. Very little sleep nowadays, up at dawn

almost always, very often before that hour.

 

A German regiment, dressed in English uniforms, the other day billetted

with an English regiment (at the other end of the town), and when

the latter marched out they were about broken up by maxim fire from

the bedroom windows. A German force arrived elsewhere, the Berkshire

regiment were on guard, and the former, in French uniforms, called out

from the wire entanglements that they waited to interview the C.O. A

major went forward who spoke French, and was shot down immediately.

This sort of thing is of daily occurrence, and only makes matters worse

for the “Sausage-makers” when our infantry get into them.

 

* * * * *

 

_Letter 52.--From a reservist in the Royal Field Artillery (Published

in the “Glasgow Herald”):_

 

I got a nasty hit with a shell on the thick of the leg. The Germans

caught us napping on Wednesday, and what slaughter! It was horrible to

witness. The Germans came along the village, killing the poor women and

children and burning all the houses. Our division could not hold out.

We were expecting the French troops to meet us, but they were two days

late. Our battery had a lucky escape of being cut up. We entrenched our

guns to come into action next day, but somehow or other we cleared

out, and had only gone ten minutes before the place was blown up.

 

The officer in charge of my section had his head blown off. I was

carried off under heavy fire on a fellow’s back, and it is to him I

owe my life. It was a long way to hospital, shells bursting all round

us. We dropped behind some corn stacks, then on we went again. I had

no sooner got bandaged up when a chap came galloping up and said the

Germans were in sight. I was the second last man to leave the hospital,

and ten minutes later it was blown up. You cannot imagine what things

were like. The women and children of England can think themselves

lucky, for the poor women here had to walk from village to village,

young children in their arms. It touched my heart to see the sight.

The Germans did not use rifles, but big guns, against our infantry’s

rifles. They are most brutal, killing all wounded in a most horrible

fashion.

 

* * * * *

 

_Letter 53.--Front Trooper S. Cargill:_

 

The Germans let all hell loose on us in their mad attempt to crush us

and so win their way to Paris. They didn’t succeed, and they won’t

succeed. I saw one ghastly affair. A German cavalry division was

pursuing our retiring infantry when we were let loose on them. When

they saw us coming they turned and fled, at least all but one, who came

rushing at us with his lance at the charge. I caught hold of his horse,

which was half mad with terror, and my chum was going to run the rider

through when he noticed the awful glaze in his eyes and we saw that the

poor devil was dead.

 

* * * * *

 

_Letter 54.--Front an Irish soldier, to his sister in County Cork:_

 

I am writing this on a leaf out of a field service pocket-book, as

notepaper and envelopes are very scarce, and we are not allowed to

send picture postcards of places as they give away where we are. Well,

this is a lovely country. The climate suits me very well. Everything

grows like mad here. It is rather like Ireland, only ten times as

rich. All that I have seen yet--and that is a good lot--is far and away

better than the best part of the county Limerick. I think it would be a

pleasure to farm here.

 

At the present time I am billeted in a farmhouse. I sleep in their

best bed-room--that is when I can go to bed at all--and they give me

home-made cider, cognac, and coffee, apples, plums, etc., and lovely

home-made cheese for nothing, though they need not supply any food, as

the rations are served out by the regiment every day.

 

’Tis great fun trying to talk French to them and I am picking it up

gradually. It is wonderful how words and sentences that I learned at

school come back to me now, and I can generally make myself understood

all right. It is an awful pity to see this beautiful country spoiled

by war, and it is no wonder the people are so eager to fight for it. I

don’t think there is a single house that has not sent out one or more

men to fight with the French Army, and their mothers, sisters, wives,

etc., are very proud of it. There are two gone out of this house.

 

* * * * *

 

_Letter 55.--From Private Carwardine, to the father of a

comrade-in-arms:_

 

I am very sorry, but I don’t know for sure about your Joe. You see,

although he was in the same company as me, he was not in the same

section. I only wish he had been. The last I saw of him was when we

were in the firing line making trenches for ourselves. He was about 600

yards behind us, smoking, and I waved to him. Then all of a sudden we

had to get down in our trenches, for bullets started coming over our

heads, and shells dropped around us.

 

We were fighting twelve hours when I got one in the back from a shell.

After that I knew no more until I found myself in hospital, and I asked

one of our chaps how our company went on, and he told me there were

only seventeen of us left out of 210. I hope Joe is among them. You

will get to know in the papers in a bit when they call the roll.

 

So cheer up and don’t be downhearted, for if Joe is killed he has died

a soldier of honour on the field. Excuse writing, as I am a bit shaky,

and I hope to God Joe is safe, for both your sakes.

 

* * * * *

 

_Letter 56.--From Private G. Dunton, of the Royal Engineers, to his

family at Coventry:_

 

I am in hospital, having been sent home from France, wounded in my

left hand. I have got one shrapnel bullet right through my hand, and

another through my middle finger against the top joint. I was wounded

at Cambrai last Wednesday. I have been in four hospitals in France, but

had to be removed on account of the Germans firing on the hospitals. I

do not think much of them, for if it was not for their artillery they

would be wiped out in quick time. No doubt our losses are great, but

theirs are far more. The famous cavalry of theirs, the Uhlans, are

getting cut up terribly. All that have been captured have said that

they are short of food. I must say we have had plenty to eat. I was

near Mons a week last Saturday and we were attacked the same day. We

have been on the retire ever since last Wednesday, when I got wounded,

but we shall soon be advancing, for they will never reach Paris. I

am very pleased to see that the Germans are being forced back by the

Russians. I hope they will serve Berlin the same as the Germans have

done to Belgium. The 9th Brigade was cut up badly; in fact, my Division

was, but more are wounded than killed. There are 1,000 wounded in this

hospital alone, without other hospitals. I must say that I am in good

health. My hand is giving me pain, but I do not mind that. I only had

four days’ fighting, but it was hard work while it lasted. The Germans,

although four to one, could not break through our lines, and they must

have lost thousands, as our artillery and infantry mowed them down like

sheep. Their rifle fire took no effect at all. All our wounds were done

by shrapnel. My hand is not healing at all, but I must be patient and

give it time. The French and Belgian people were very kind to us and

gave us anything we wanted.

 

* * * * *

 

_Letter 57.--From a Manchester soldier, in a French hospital:_

 

There was a young French girl helping to bandage us up. How she

stood it I don’t know. There were some awful sights, but she never

quailed--just a sweet, sad smile for everyone. If ever anyone deserved

a front seat in Heaven, this young angel does. God bless her. She has

the prayers and the love of the remnants of our division. All the

French people are wonderfully generous. They gave us anything and

everything. You simply cannot help loving them, especially the children.

 

* * * * *

 

_Letter 58.--From Private A. McGillivray, a Highlander, to his

mother:_

 

Of my company only 10 were unhit. I saw a handful of Irishmen throw

themselves in front of a regiment of cavalry who were trying to cut off

a battery of horse artillery. It was one of the finest deeds I ever

saw. Not one of the poor lads got away alive, but they made the German

devils pay in kind, and, anyhow, the artillery got away to account for

many more Germans. Every man of us made a vow to avenge the fallen

Irishmen, and if the German cavalrymen concerned were made the targets

of every British rifleman and gunner they had themselves to thank.

Later they were fully avenged by their own comrades, who lay in wait

for the German cavalrymen. The Irish lads went at them with the bayonet

when they least expected it, and the Germans were a sorry sight. Some

of them howled for mercy, but I don’t think they got it. In war mercy

is only for the merciful.

 

* * * * *

 

_Letter 59.--From Private W. Bell, of the South Lancashire Regiment,

to his wife:_

 

I shall never forget this lot. Men fell dead just like sheep. Our

regiment was first in the firing line, and we were simply cut up. Very

few escaped, so I think I was very lucky, for I was nearly half-a-mile

creeping over nothing but dead men. In the trenches, bullets and shells

came down on us like rain. We even had to lift dead men up and get

under them for safety.

 

When we got the order to retire an officer was just giving the order to

charge when he was struck dead, and it is a good job we didn’t charge,

or we would have all been killed. I passed a lot of my chums dead, but

I didn’t see Fred Atkinson (a friend of the family).