“Nesting” Time
The Germans took full advantage of the woods. Sharpshooters and even machine guns were posted on the trees, and they did terrible execution amongst our men, who were unable to see them. You approached a wood that appeared quite peaceful and an ideal place for a quiet rest. Suddenly you awoke to the fact that every tree was a fortress, and bullets began to drop all round just like acorns from the trees at home. For an enemy the woods have many advantages, but the disadvantages must not be overlooked. We saw enough of them to bring home to us that tree-fighting is not all a picnic. One day we had reason to suspect that the enemy were trying their trick in the woods on our left. The French artillery opened fire, and as we advanced we found the wood blazing from end to end. From all directions came the agonizing cries of the Germans who were concealed in the trees. They had no hope of getting away in many cases, and simply had to stay in their perches until suffocation brought a merciful end. A few of them did escape, and dashed out to our lines in terror. We ceased fire and did the best we could for them, but that wasn’t much. On another day we advanced into a wood that was held in force by the enemy. They were bent on contesting every inch of the ground, and what we had to do was to shelter behind each tree as we advanced, firing at the next where one or more Germans were posted. We had to keep that sort of thing up for a day, and when night fell it was doubly dangerous work. Still, we had to keep at it, and in the end we drove them out. Our chaps and the French are ready to do their share of “nesting” in the trees when it is necessary to resist the Germans, and we have had plenty of that kind of fighting. It requires a lot of courage, and is terribly risky all through: A Corporal of the Middlesex Regiment.
[X. HIT AND MISSED]
There is a victory in dying well
For Freedom—and ye have not died in vain.
Thomas Campbell.
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred!
Storm’d at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro’ the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.
Tennyson’s “Charge of the Light Brigade.”
In one of our rearguard actions an officer was saying to me, “I am not good enough to die yet.” He had not spoken the words before he was shot through the brain, and the man on the left had his head blown off by a shell. You know I wasn’t severely religious, but I’m inclined to be now: Pte. Watts, 4th Grenadiers.