All Sorts of Sacrifices
Along the Aisne the Germans made some absolutely desperate attempts to break through our line, and they counted no sacrifice too great to achieve their end. One day I saw a brigade of theirs caught in a deadly trap. There was a gap in our lines between one of our brigades and the nearest French force. The Germans made a sudden dash for that gap under cover of their artillery, and, though they were exposed to a heavy fire that cut deep lines through their ranks, they came steadily on. They had nearly reached their goal when a sudden movement of British reserves on the left brought a fierce attack on the Germans from the rear. At the same time the Germans were fired on from our men and the French on either flank. They had either to continue their forward march, with the certainty of disaster, or turn and try to hew their way out again through our reserves. They chose the latter course, and their artillery tried to back them up in every possible way. Owing to the disposition of forces it was a risky job to keep up artillery fire, and soon the shells began to do as much damage among the Germans as to the British or French. The Germans kept falling back under the double fire, and at the same time great clouds of cavalry came moving out in support of their retirement. The British force taking the Germans in the rear was now in danger of being taken in the rear itself, but reinforcements were hurried out, and our cavalry began the work of pressing back the German cavalry advancing to the assistance of their trapped infantry. Now the air was thick with fighting men, and the cries of the combatants were deafening. The retreating Germans kept moving steadily towards their oncoming cavalry, dropping men by the hundred as they retreated, but just when they seemed to have reached their goal our infantry were on them, and they were hurled against the French position on the right. After this there was nothing for it but to cut and run, and what looked to be one of the best brigades of the German army was soon nothing more than a mass of panic-stricken men flying in quest of a hiding-place from the fire by which they were assailed. In their flight they cast aside arms and equipment or anything likely to impede their rush. For half a mile in front of our position there were piles of dead and dying to testify to the terrible execution done by our artillery and rifle fire, and that repulse saw the end of the German attempts to break through our line at that particular point: A Motor-Cyclist Dispatch-Rider.
[XII. IN THE TRENCHES]
Come the three corners of the world in arms,
And we shall shock them; nought shall make us rue
If England to herself do rest but true.
Shakespeare.
When the last charge sounds,
And the battle thunders o’er the plain,
Thunders o’er the trenches where the red streams flow,
Will it not be well with us,
Veterans, veterans,
If, beneath your torn old flag, we burst upon the foe?
Alfred Noyes.
There was a Frenchman hit by a shell, so me and “Smosh” got a stretcher and ran out and fetched him to safety, and the shells were bursting all around us. But we have been lucky enough to miss them up to now. It isn’t war out here; it’s murder: Pte. W. Commons, Royal Army Medical Corps.