In The Firing Line 3

In The Firing Line 3

Well, out of 250 men only eighty were left, and we had to surrender.

They took away everything, and we were lined up to be shot, so as to

be no trouble to them. Then the cavalry of the French made a charge,

and the Germans were cut down like grass. We got away, and wandered

about all night, never knowing if we were walking into our chaps or

the Germans. After walking about some time we commenced falling down

through drinking water that had been poisoned, and then we were put

into some motor-wagons and taken to Amiens.

 

* * * * *

 

_Letter 4.--From a Lincolnshire Sergeant to his brother:_

 

It came unexpectedly. The first inkling we had was just after reveille,

when our cavalry pickets fell back and reported the presence of the

enemy in strength on our front and slightly to the left. In a few

minutes we were all at our posts without the slightest confusion, and

as we lay down in the trenches our artillery opened fire. It was a fine

sight to see the shells speeding through the air to pay our respects

to Kaiser Bill and his men. Soon the Germans returned the compliment;

but they were a long time in finding anything approaching the range,

and they didn’t know of shelters--a trick we learned from the Boers,

I believe. After about half an hour of this work their infantry came

into view along our front. They were in solid square blocks standing

out sharply against the skyline, and we couldn’t help hitting them.

We lay in our trenches with not a sound or sign to tell them of what

was before them. They crept nearer and nearer, and then our officers

gave the word. Under the storm of bullets they seemed to stagger

like drunken men, after which they made a run for us shouting some

outlandish cry that we could not make out. Half way across the open

another volley tore through their ranks, and by this time our artillery

began dropping shells around them. Then an officer gave an order, and

they broke into open formation, rushing like mad things towards the

trenches on our left. Some of our men continued the volley firing, but

a few of the crack shots were told off to indulge in independent firing

for the benefit of the Germans. That is another trick taught us by

Brother Boer, and our Germans did not like it at all. They fell back in

confusion and then lay down wherever cover was available.

 

* * * * *

 

_Letter 5.--From Private Levy, Royal Munster Fusiliers:_

 

We were sent up to the firing line to try and save a battery. When we

got there we found that they were nearly all killed or wounded. Our

Irish lads opened fire on the dirty Germans, and you should have seen

them fall. It was like a game of skittles. But as soon as you knocked

them down up came another thousand or so. We could not make out where

they came from. So, all of a sudden, our officers gave us the order to

charge. We fixed bayonets and went like fire through them. You should

have seen them run!

 

We had two companies of ours there against about 3,000 of theirs, and I

tell you it was warm. I was not sorry when night-time came, but that

was not all. You see, we had no horses to get those guns away, and our

chaps would not leave them.

 

We dragged them ourselves to a place of safety. As the firing line was

at full swing we had with us an officer of the Hussars. I think he was

next to me, and he had his hand nearly blown off by one of the German

shells. So I and two more fellows picked him up and took him to a place

of safety, where he got his wound cared for. I heard afterwards that he

had been sent home, poor fellow.

 

* * * * *

 

_Letter 6.--From Sergeant A. J. Smith, 1st Lincolnshire Regiment:_

 

We smashed up the Kaiser’s famous regiment--the Imperial Guards--and

incidentally they gave us a shaking. They caught me napping. I got

wounded on Sunday night, but I stuck it until Thursday. I could then go

no further, so they put me in the ambulance and sent me home. It was

just as safe in the firing line as in the improvised hospital, as when

our force moved the Germans closed up and shelled the hospitals and

burned the villages to the ground.

 

We started on Sunday, and were fighting and marching until Thursday.

Troops were falling asleep on the roadside until the shells started

dropping, then we were very much awake.

 

I feel proud to belong to the British Army for the way in which they

bore themselves in front of the other nations. No greater tribute could

be paid us than what a German officer, who was captured, said. He said

it was inferno to stand up against the British Army.

 

* * * * *

 

_Letter 7.--From Private J. R. Tait, of the 2nd Essex Regiment:_

 

We were near Mons when we had the order to entrench. It was just dawn

when we were half-way down our trenches, and we were on our knees when

the Germans opened a murderous fire with their guns and machine guns.

We opened a rapid fire with our Maxims and rifles; we let them have it

properly, but no sooner did we have one lot down than up came another

lot, and they sent their cavalry to charge us, but we were there with

our bayonets, and we emptied our magazines on them. Their men and

horses were in a confused heap. There were a lot of wounded horses we

had to shoot to end their misery. We had several charges with their

infantry, too. We find they don’t like the bayonets. Their rifle

shooting is rotten; I don’t believe they could hit a haystack at 100

yards. We find their Field Artillery very good; we don’t like their

shrapnel; but I noticed that some did not burst; if one shell that came

over me had burst I should have been blown to atoms; I thanked the Lord

it did not. I also heard our men singing that famous song: “Get out and

get under.” I know that for an hour in our trench it would make anyone

keep under, what with their shells and machine guns. Many poor fellows

went to their death like heroes.

 

* * * * *

 

_Letter 8.--From an Oldham Private to his wife at Waterhead:_

 

We have had a terrible time, and were in action for three days and

nights. On Wednesday the officers said that Spion Kop was heaven to the

fighting we had on that day. It is God help our poor fellows who get

wounded in the legs or body and could not get off the battlefield, as

when we retired the curs advanced and shot and bayonetted them as they

tried to crawl away. They are rotten shots with the rifles. If they

stood on Blackpool sands I don’t believe they could hit the sea, but

they are very good with the shrapnel guns, and nearly all our wounded

have been hit with shrapnel bullets. Each shrapnel shell contains about

200 bullets which scatter all around, so just think what damage one

shell can do when it drops among a troop of soldiers.

 

On the Tuesday our regiment went to the top of a hill which had a

big flat top. An outpost of a Scotch regiment reported to us on our

way up that all was clear, and we thought the enemy were about five

miles away. We formed up in close formation--about 1,200 strong.

Our commanding officer told us to pull our packs off, and start

entrenching, but this was the last order he will ever give, for the

enemy opened fire at us with five Maxim guns from a wood only 400 yards

in front of us. They mowed us down like straw, and we could get no

cover at all. Those who were left had to roll off the hill into the

roadway--a long straight road--but we got it worse there. They had two

shrapnel guns at the top of the road, and they did fearful execution to

us and the Lancashire Fusiliers, who were also in the roadway. Any man

who got out of that hell-hole should shake hands with himself.

 

This all happened before six o’clock in the morning. I have only seen

about sixty of our regiment since. Our Maxim gun officer tried to fix

his gun up during their murderous fire, but he got half his face blown

away. We retired in splendid order about 300 yards, and then lined a

ridge. Up to then we hardly fired a shot. They had nearly wiped three

regiments out up to then, but our turn came. We gave them lead as fast

as we could pull the triggers, and I think we put three Germans out

to every one of our men accounted for. Bear in mind, they were about

250,000 strong to our 50,000. We got three Germans, and they said their

officers told them that we were Russians and that England had not sent

any men to fight.

 

They made us retire about five miles, and then we got the master

of them, because our guns came up and covered the ground with dead

Germans. The German gunners are good shots, but ours are a lot better.

After we had shelled them a bit we got them on the run, and we drove

them back to three miles behind where the battle started. We did give

it them. I will say this, none of our soldiers touched any wounded

Germans, though it took us all our time to keep our bayonets out of

their ribs after seeing what they did with our wounded. But, thank God,

we governed our tempers and left them alone.

 

I said we got the Germans on the run. And they can run! I picked up a

few trophies and put them in my pack, but I got it blown off my back

almost, so I had to discard it. I got one in the ribs, and then a horse

got shot and fell on top of me, putting my shoulder out again and

crushing my ribs. Otherwise I am fit to tackle a few more Germans, and

I hope I shall soon be back again at the front to get a bit of my own

back.

 

* * * * *

 

_Letter 9.--From a private of the 1st Lincolns to friends at

Barton-on-Humber:_

 

Just a line to tell you I have returned from the front, and I can tell

you we have had a very trying time of it. I must also say I am very

lucky to be here. We were fighting from Sunday, 23rd, to Wednesday

evening, on nothing to eat or drink--only the drop of water in our

bottles which we carried. No one knows--only those that have seen us

could credit such a sight, and if I live for years may I never see such

a sight again. I can tell you it is not very nice to see your chum next

to you with half his head blown off. The horrible sights I shall never

forget. There seemed nothing else only certain death staring us in the

face all the time. I cannot tell you all on paper. We must, however,

look on the bright side, for it is no good doing any other. There are

thousands of these Germans and they simply throw themselves at us.

It is no joke fighting seven or eight to one. I can tell you we have

lessened them a little, but there are millions more yet to finish.

 

* * * * *

 

_Letter 10.--From one of the 9th Lancers to friends at Alfreton:_

 

I was at the great battle of Mons, and got a few shots in me. Once

I was holding my officer’s horse and my own, when, all of a sudden,

a German shell came over and burst. Both horses were killed. I got

away with my left hand split and three fingers blown in pieces. I am

recovering rather quickly. I shall probably have to lose one or two

of my fingers. I had two bullets taken from my body on Tuesday, and

I can tell you I am in pain. I think I am one of the luckiest men in

the world to escape as I did. War is a terrible thing. It is a lot

different to what most of us expected. Women and children leaving their

homes with their belongings--then all of a sudden their houses would

be in ashes, blown to the ground. I shall be glad to get well again.

Then I can go and help again to fight the brutal Germans. The people

in France and Belgium were so kind and good to our soldiers. They gave everything they possibly could do.