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.