In The Firing Line 19

In The Firing Line 19

It was, however, no time for sentiment, for gallopers soon brought the

news that the enemy was advancing, and that a cavalry attack might be

expected at any moment. Infantry had entrenched themselves along our

front, and there was a strong body posted on our flanks and rear. These

became engaged first with a large body of Uhlans, who endeavoured to

take them by surprise, the front rank rushing forward with the lance

and the rear using the sword.

 

We were on slightly higher ground, and could see the combat, which

appeared to be going in our favour. Our men stuck to their ground and

shot and bayonetted the Uhlans, who, after ten minutes’ fight, made

off, but, sad to say, a dreadful fusilade of shrapnel and Maxim fire

followed immediately, and our guns also came under fire. To this we

readily replied, and must have done some execution, especially to the

large masses of infantry that were advancing about a mile away.

 

We got a favourable “bracket” at once, so our Major said, and we worked

our guns for all we were worth, altering fuses and the ranging of our

guns as the Germans came nearer. Shells fell fast around us, some

ricocheted, and passed overhead without bursting, ploughing the ground

up in our rear, but not a few exploded, and made many casualties. Three

of my gun detachment fell with shrapnel bullets, but still we kept the

guns going, the officers giving a hand.

 

At one time we came under the fire of the enemy’s machine guns, but two

of our 18-pounders put them out of action after a few rounds. The order

came at length to retire so as to get a more favourable position, but

our drivers failed to bring back all the gun teams, only sufficient

to horse four of the guns. The remainder of the animals had been

terribly mutilated. These were limbered up, the remainder being for a

time protected by the infantry. The Gordons and Middlesex were in the

shelter trenches on our left, and the latter regiment was said at one

time to be almost overwhelmed, but aid came, and the masses of Prussian

infantry were beaten off.

 

Still, there was terrible slaughter on both sides, and the dead lay in

long burrows on the turf. We should have lost our guns to the Uhlans if

the infantry had not persevered with the rifle, picking off the cavalry

at 800 yards.

 

It was grand shooting. In the afternoon we slackened fire, as also did

the Germans; in fact, we did but little from our new gun positions, as

we were destined to cover the retreat of the infantry later on.

 

As the wounded were brought to the rear we heard of the deeds of

heroism from the men of the Royal Army Medical Corps in the fighting

line--how an officer stood over the body of a private who had

previously saved his life until he had spent his last shot from his

revolver, and then fell seriously wounded, to be avenged the next

moment by a burly sergeant who plunged his bayonet into the Prussian.

 

In the ranks of the South Lancashire Regiment, from what has been

heard, many deserve the Distinguished Conduct Medal, if not the V.C.,

for the manner in which they charged masses of German infantry through

the village to our front. Uhlans got round behind them, but they did

not flinch, although serious gaps were made in their ranks.

 

A non-commissioned officer of the Medicals related how he saw a party

of Fusiliers rush to the aid of their Maxim gun party when Uhlans swept

down on them from behind a wood. They accounted for over twenty and

lost but one man.

 

At night we were ordered to move on again, and we marched south-west

in the direction of ----, covering twenty miles in the darkness. Our

unhorsed guns were got through by splitting up our teams, and with the

help of the brawny arms of the infantry.

 

The enemy were aware of our retreat, and kept up an incessant fire,

bringing searchlights to the aid of their gunners. The moon slightly

favoured us, and, with the help of local guides, we found our way. I

heard of the brilliant work performed by our battalions, who kept the

enemy at bay whilst we withdrew all our vehicles, and we gunners felt

proud of them. They kept the enemy busy by counter-attack, and made it

impossible to get round us.

 

Next morning the enemy were again in the field endeavouring to force

our left flank. Field-Marshal Sir John French, whom we saw early in the

day, was, however, equal to the occasion, and so manœuvred his troops

that we occupied a position from which the Germans could not dislodge

us. The artillery kept up long-range fire, and that is how I received

my wound. Within a few minutes first aid was rendered, and I was put

in an ambulance and taken off with other wounded to a field hospital,

where I met with every attention.

 

 

IN HOSPITAL.

 

(2) _At the London Hospital._

 

By a _Daily Telegraph_ correspondent.

 

A description of a thrilling fight in the air, which had a dramatic

climax, was given to Queen Alexandra when her Majesty paid a visit to

the London Hospital.

 

Among the wounded soldiers there is a private of the Royal Engineers,

who was himself witness of the incident.

 

He said that following a very hard fight on the day before, he was

lying on the ground with his regiment, resting. Suddenly a German

aeroplane hove in sight. It flew right over the British troops, and

commenced to signal their position to the German camp.

 

A minute later, amid intense excitement of the troops, two aeroplanes,

with English and French pilots, rose into the air from the British

rear. Ascending with great rapidity, they made for the German

aeroplane, with the intention of attacking it.

 

At first some of our men, who were very much on the alert, fired by

mistake at the French aeroplane. Luckily, their shots went wide.

 

Then the troops lay still, and with breathless interest watched

the attempts of the French and British aviators to outmanœuvre

their opponent, and to cut off his retreat. After a little time the

Franco-British airmen abandoned this attempt, and then the Englishman

and the German began to fly upwards, in the evident desire to obtain

a more favourable position for shooting down from above. Owing to the

protection afforded by the machine, it would have been of little use

for one aviator to fire at his opponent from below. Once a higher

altitude was attained, the opportunity for effective aim would be much

greater.

 

Up and up circled the two airmen, till their machines could barely be

distinguished from the ground. They were almost out of sight when the

soldiers saw that the British aviator was above his opponent. Then

the faint sound of a shot came down from the sky, and instantly the

German aeroplane began to descend, vol-planing in graceful fashion.

Apparently it was under the most perfect control. On reaching the earth

the machine landed with no great shock, ran a short distance along the

ground, and then stopped.

 

Rushing to the spot, the British soldiers found, to their amazement,

that the pilot was dead. So fortunate had been the aim of the

Englishman that he had shot the German through the head. In his dying

moments the latter had started to descend, and when he reached the

earth his hands still firmly gripped the controls.

 

The aeroplane was absolutely undamaged, and was appropriated by the

British aviators.

 

 

IN HOSPITAL.

 

(3) _From a “Daily Telegraph” correspondent at Rouen_:

 

It was known that there were British wounded in Rouen--I had even

spoken to one of them in the streets--but how was one to see them? The

police commissaire sent me to his central colleague, who sent me on to

the état major, who was anxious to send me back to him, but finally

suggested that I should see the military commissary at one of the

stations. He was courteous, but very firm--the authorisation I asked

for could not be, and was not, granted to anyone. At the headquarters

of the British General Staff the same answer in even less ambiguous

terms.

 

It was then that Privates X., Y., Z. came to my aid. Private Z. had a

request to make of me. It was that I should see to it that the black

retriever of his regiment now at the front should be photographed, and

that the photograph should appear in _The Daily Telegraph_. Private

Z. had a temperature of 102·5, and looked it, but he was not worrying

about that. He was worrying about the photograph of the regimental

retriever, which I understood him to say, though dates make it almost

incredible, had gone through the Boer campaign, and had not yet had his

photograph in the papers. So I met by appointment Privates X., Y., and

Z. outside the Hospice Général of Rouen, and by them was franked in to

the hospital, where a few dozen of our wounded were sunning themselves.

It was just time, and no more, as orders had been received a few

minutes before that the British wounded were to be transferred from

Rouen to London, for something grave was afoot.

 

“Do you want to get back to England?” someone called out to a soldier

whose arm was in a sling, and the whole sleeve of whose jacket had been

ripped by the fragment of a shell.

 

“Not I,” he shouted; “I want to go to the front again and get my sleeve

back, and something more.”

 

I managed to speak with two or three of the wounded as they were

getting ready for the start. One of them, an artilleryman, had been

injured by his horses falling on him at Ligny, I guessed it was--only

guessed, for Tommy charges a French word as bravely and much less

successfully than he charges the enemy. It was the same story that one

hears from all, of a heroic struggle against overwhelming odds. “They

were ten to one against us, in my opinion,” he said. “They were all

over us. Their artillery found the range by means of aeroplanes. The

shell fire was terrible.”

 

He says that it was very accurate, but that fortunately the quality of

the shells is not up to that of the shooting. My informant’s division

held out for twenty-four hours against the overwhelming odds. Then,

when the Germans had managed to get a battery into action behind, they

retired during the night of Wednesday, steadily and in excellent order,

keeping the German pursuit at bay. The next man I spoke to really spoke

to me. He was anxious to tell his story.