THE FIGHTING RETREAT.
While I have been telling you about the course of events in the eastern theatre of war, you have, I am sure, been eager to know how our brave fellows were faring at Mons. At the end of Chapter IV. you learned that Sir John French had decided to retreat. No true soldiers ever like to retreat, least of all British soldiers; but retreat could not now be avoided unless our little army was to be completely cut off.
You will remember that Sir John received a very belated and most unexpected telegram from General Joffre at five o'clock on Sunday afternoon, August 23, 1914. This telegram informed him that the French on his right were everywhere in retreat, and that the British forces were threatened by overwhelming numbers of the enemy, who were not only advancing on their front, but were trying to turn their flanks. By this time Sir John's air scouts had assured him that General Joffre's information was correct. To hold on any longer in his present position would have been reckless folly. The only way to retrieve the fortunes of the Allies was for the British to fall back to a strong position and there make a stand.
Every prudent commander prepares for a retreat, for no general can possibly be sure of winning any battle. Napoleon once said that the general who went forward without having prepared a line of retreat deserved to be shot. Wellington, you will remember, retreated from Quatre Bras, and afterwards won one of the greatest battles of history. He had previously arranged to meet Blücher and give battle to the French at Waterloo, where there was ground favourable to him. In the same way General French had chosen and prepared a second position some miles to his rear, and to this line he now prepared to retire. In his first dispatch he tells us that the new position extended from the fortress of Maubeuge on the east to Jenlain on the west. It was not a good position, because there were so many standing crops and buildings that the trenches could not be well placed, and the field of fire was impeded. There were, however, a few places where the big guns could be posted well.
Bird's-eye View of the British Line of Retreat from Mons to La Fère By permission of the Sphere.
A general order was issued that the troops were to move to the rear at sunrise on Monday, 24th August; but many of them were roused from their sleep and sent on their southward march before midnight on the 23rd. Already the heavy transports and the ambulances filled with wounded were moving as rapidly as possible towards the new position, so that the roads might be free for the infantry next day. You can easily understand that, if the British had been suddenly withdrawn, the Germans would have swooped down on them while they were marching in columns and unable to resist. Before the retirement could begin in real earnest our troops must check the Germans, and thus gain sufficient time to reach the new position before they were again attacked in force.
You will remember that Binche had been abandoned, and that Sir Douglas Haig's force had fallen back to a long swell of ground south of the village of Bray. In the gray dawn of Monday morning the British troops, who had done a certain amount of fighting during the night, stood to arms. The Germans were preparing for a great attack on the British right, and in this direction Sir John French determined to check them. He ordered the 2nd Division of the First Corps, with a strong support of more than 120 guns, to advance and make an attack on Binche, as though they were determined to recapture it. Meanwhile Smith-Dorrien's Second Corps, which had held the line of the canal, was to fall back some distance and there form a new battle line, behind which the 1st Division, which had been so hard pressed during the previous day's battle, might retire to the new position. When this division was well upon its way, the Second Corps was to retreat and form up upon its left.
From this brief account of what Sir John proposed to do, you will understand the great difficulty of the task imposed upon his army. There is nothing so difficult in warfare as to make a fighting retreat when pressed by superior numbers. Think of what it means. While one division is beating back the enemy, another division is marching to the rear; and when it reaches a certain point it faces about and takes up the work of holding the foe, while the first division marches to its rear and prepares to bear the brunt of attack, in order that the second division may retire and begin the business all over again. In a fighting retreat there is not a moment's rest for anybody. While one part of the army is fighting, another part is marching; and no matter how weary the marching men may be, they must be ready at any moment to form a firing line, while their comrades in front scramble out of their trenches and hurry to the rear.
In such a fighting retreat as this the greatest skill and judgment are required of the commanders. If they withdraw their men from the firing line too soon, the superior numbers of the enemy will drive them back on the marching columns and involve both in a common ruin; if they keep their men too long in the firing line, the enemy will probably destroy them or cut them off. Any error of judgment on the part of the commanders during such a retreat is almost sure to be fatal. The men, too, must be as steady as a rock. They must hold on to their positions, however hopeless the task may seem, and not budge until the word is given, even though their comrades are rapidly falling around them. Happily, in this retreat our commanders were cool and skilful, and our men were seasoned soldiers, capable of holding on with grim determination like British bulldogs.
Several times during the retreat small British detachments failed to receive the order to retire. Probably the messengers carrying the order were shot or captured on the way. Nevertheless, these groups of men fought on with never a thought of retreat, until they were reduced to a mere handful, and further resistance was useless. Other small bodies of British soldiers lost their way, and some of them wandered into the German lines and were made prisoners. One man, David M. Kay, of the 5th Lancers, strayed from his comrades, and, worn out with fatigue, fell exhausted on the road. Later on he found a resting-place in a deserted carriage. Thirty-six hours went by, and then the Germans appeared and fired on him. Though he was alone against an armed host, he returned the fire and shot down six German officers before he fell, riddled with bullets. The French in the village hard by were so impressed by his dauntless courage that they buried him where he fell, and above the mound that marks his last resting-place set up a wooden cross. For days afterwards they strewed his grave with fresh flowers.
And now the 1st Division of the First Corps began its feigned attack on Binche. One hundred and twenty British guns thundered forth, and the infantry moved briskly towards the enemy. No doubt this attack came as a great surprise to the Germans, who thought that the British had been largely reinforced in the night. While the guns were busy belching shrapnel on the Germans, the 2nd Division of the same corps was marching southwards. The attack continued until this division was well on its way, and then came the time for the 1st Division to retire. For the rest of the morning it slowly moved to the rear, holding back the enemy by powerful artillery fire, and acting as the rearguard to the whole of the British right. It reached its new position about seven in the evening.
Now we must see what was happening on the British left, where, as you will remember, the Second Corps was stationed under Smith-Dorrien. Early in the morning he fell back some five miles from the line of the Condé Canal, until his right rested on the mining village of Frameries.[46] Here he picked up a British infantry brigade, which had been brought by rail from the lines of communication, and sent it to support his left flank. His task was to hold back the enemy until the British right had arrived at the Maubeuge position. He was to keep the enemy busily engaged all day, so that they could not follow up the British retreat; and to break off the battle at the most favourable moment, so that he could retire to the part of the new line which he was to hold.
It was by no means an easy task. He had only between 30,000 and 40,000 men, while the Germans numbered more than 100,000. His position, however, was a good one. He found a low railway embankment which gave him a ready-made rampart for the right of his line, and a clear field of fire all along the front. To his left were many colliery lines, with similar embankments and buildings that gave a good deal of cover, and beyond them fields of standing corn.
All the long morning the British held their front against attack after attack of the enemy, though an awful storm of shrapnel continually burst upon them. The weakest part of the line was the left, where the Germans were trying to work round the flank. So fiercely were our troops also assailed round about Frameries, that about half-past seven in the morning their general sent an urgent message to the Commander-in-chief begging for support. Sir John French had no reserves except General Allenby's cavalry division, and these he now sent to help the hard-pressed division.
The first of the cavalry to go into action were the 4th Dragoon Guards, the 9th Lancers, and the 18th Hussars, who were under the command of Colonel De Lisle, the hero of many a dashing charge in South Africa. At first the troopers fought on foot, but soon Colonel De Lisle thought that he saw a good chance of charging the flank of the German infantry. The men of the 9th Lancers were ordered to mount and prepare to charge, while the other cavalry regiments acted as supports.
The Charge of the 9th Lancers at Audregnies. From the picture by Dudley Tennant.
Away galloped the lancers, shouting with joy at the prospect of coming to hand-grips with the enemy. Alas! all unknown to them the Germans had protected their flank with many lines of barbed wire. When the lancers were about five hundred yards from the enemy's flank they found themselves held up by this terrible entanglement. They tried hard to break through, but in vain, and all the while a death-storm raged about them from rifle and battery. "We simply galloped like rabbits in front of a line of guns," said a lancer who survived, "men and horses falling in all directions." The enemy could not be reached, and nothing could live in that zone of death. The lancers were forced to retire, and as they did so the guns caught them on the flank and made awful havoc amongst them. Only a hundred lancers returned out of eight hundred and fifty. It was the charge of the Light Brigade at Balaclava all over again—just as gallant, just as thrilling, and just as useless!
The remnants of the regiment, including the squadron of Captain Francis Grenfell, found shelter under the lee of a light railway embankment. Here they found an artillery officer and a dozen gunners of the 119th Royal Field Artillery, whose battery had been put out of action by German shells. They were the sole survivors. Captain Grenfell had already been badly wounded in the hand and the leg, but he was determined to prevent the guns from falling into the hands of the enemy. He rode out amidst the hailstorm of shot and shell to see if there was a way by which they could be withdrawn to the British lines, and having discovered a road, walked his horse back so that his men might not think the risk too great.
As soon as he was back under the shelter of the embankment he called for volunteers. He reminded his lancers that the 9th had saved the guns at Maiwand,[47] and had more than once come to the rescue of artillery in South Africa. Every man responded to his call; all were eager to have a hand in this glorious exploit. Leaving their horses behind them, they rushed out to the stranded guns; and, working with a will, hauled one of them over the dead bodies of the drivers, on and on, until it was safe from capture. Again and again they returned under a merciless fire, until every gun was out of danger. Hardly had the last gun been moved into safety when the German infantry appeared. The guns had been saved in the very nick of time.
Captain Grenfell was afterwards awarded the Victoria Cross for this splendid deed of courage and resolution. Hats off to Captain Grenfell!
By midday the First Corps was so far in the rear that Smith-Dorrien could safely begin his retreat. He fell back slowly and steadily, now and then halting to beat off an attack, and by nightfall reached his new position, after having suffered great losses. The First Corps lay to the right of the French village of Bavai, a place of ironworks and marble quarries. Its flank was protected by the fortress of Maubeuge. The Second Corps lay to the left, holding a line which extended to the village of Jenlain. The fortress was a sufficient defence for the right flank, and Allenby's cavalry division covered the left flank.
On that Monday evening, when some of our men were beginning to entrench themselves, and to hope that a stand would be made against the enemy on the morrow, they learned, to their great disappointment, that by five the next morning they were to be on the road again, trudging towards another position which lay to the south-west. They were under the impression that their retirement was at an end, and that the next day would see them making an advance. Little did they know that they had only begun their retreat, and that they would have to tramp many a long, weary mile before that happy hour arrived. Their disappointment soon vanished when they heard that Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien appeared as bright and cheerful as ever. "Things can't be bad," they said, "or the general would be looking more glum than that."
Why was a further retreat necessary? The Commander-in-chief knew what his men did not know—that the French on his right were still retiring, and that von Kluck was bringing up more and more men in the hope of turning his left. He knew that unless he continued his march southwards he would probably be forced into the fortress of Maubeuge, and his knowledge of history assured him that once an army takes shelter behind the guns of a fortress, and is there shut in, it runs but little chance of ever getting out again. You remember what happened at Metz in 1870. Bazaine was forced into that fortress, and was so hemmed in that he had to surrender with 170,000 men. Sir John French was not the man to take any such risk, so he ordered the retreat to continue.
By sunrise on Tuesday morning our wearied soldiers were tramping along the dusty roads towards the south-west. As the sun rose higher and higher in the sky the heat became more and more intense, and the men felt the strain very much; but they plodded on with that stubbornness which they always display when they are in a tight place. The First Corps marched by roads to the east of the Forest of Mormal, a woodland about one-fifth of the area of our New Forest, and the Second Corps by roads to the west of it. Allenby's cavalry, which covered the exposed western flank, had a few skirmishes with Uhlans; but the Germans did not harass the retreat to any great extent.
An army chaplain gives us a very vivid account of what he saw during the retirement. He writes as follows:—
"Horses and men, transport and guns, an endless procession they passed, blackened with grime, bearing evident signs of the past few days' fighting. But the men were in good spirits. They were retreating, but this was not a defeated army. 'Wait till we get to a position we can hold, and then we'll give them socks,' was the sort of thing one heard from the ranks as they passed. It was simply glorious country through which we marched—the forest of Mormal, picturesque villages, quaint old farmhouses, and village churches dating from the twelfth century; and everywhere the roads lined with fine avenues of trees—sometimes tall poplars, and at other times apple and plum trees laden with fruit. But the country was deserted, crops standing in the fields, the villages empty, the houses locked and barricaded."
While the columns were on the march German aeroplanes frequently flew over them. A private of the 1st Royal West Kent Regiment thus describes a sight which greatly interested him and his comrades:—
"I saw a duel in the air between French and German aeroplanes. It was wonderful to see the Frenchman manoeuvre to get the upper position of the German, and after about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour the Frenchman got on top and blazed away with a revolver on the German. He injured him so much as to cause him to descend, and when found he was dead. The British troops buried the airman and burnt the aeroplane. During that day we were not troubled by any more German aeroplanes."