Our guns stopped firing when the smoke and fire showed they had done their work. Dark figures could be seen running about from point to point silhouetted against the flames. Our men fired at the figures, and made jokes about the discomfiture of the enemy, who could not move now without being shown up by the flames, while they themselves were secure in the darkness.
Then as I watched I saw a very dashing piece of work on the part of the enemy, for up galloped a section of horse artillery right into the firing-line, unlimbered, and opened fire. Their target was soon plain: a row of haystacks just behind our lines. In five minutes these stacks, too, were blazing merrily, and our lines were lit up as clearly as the Germans'.
The whole scene made a wonderful stage battle effect, with the two rival lines of trenches and the flames behind each shooting luridly to the sky.
Later Hutson came up to me.
"By Jove!" he said, "my young subaltern did a good bit of work just now. You know when those German guns started on our stacks. Well, he got three men with buckets, filled 'em at a pump, and dashed at the first stack and tried to put it out. A bit of a fireman, to get to work like that while the object he was trying to extinguish was still under shell fire."
I am glad to say that the deed of the young subaltern referred to was mentioned in dispatches and that he received the D.S.O. and the three men with him the D.C.M.
XV. A NIGHT PATROL
The regiment was acting as advance guard to the brigade, so considerable responsibility rested on Goyle, who was senior officer of the three companies employed. Goyle had been through the war from the beginning, and had learnt the difference between reckless dash and careful handling of men. Goyle had had four of his subalterns killed and most of his original company replaced by reinforcements. He had held the canal bank at Mons and fought slowly backwards from house to house at Le Cateau. What he did not know of the Germans and their methods of fighting no general knew, nor staff officer with red-banded, brass-rimmed cap. Perhaps the generals and their staff officers knew as much theoretically and had learnt a good deal from the result of actions in which the divisions and units under their command had been engaged, but none knew more than Goyle, who was a plain regimental officer and lived daily in the firing-line. Had many but he been in command that night the advance guard would have been cut up.
We had covered the first part of our march uneventfully, and were now moving along a stretch of open road which ran between two deep ditches with ploughland on either side. The Dorchesters were following us, and they, we knew, had reached a village about half a mile behind. Goyle was from the first extremely anxious not to let the gap between ourselves and the Dorchesters get too wide. Our orders were to halt on a cross-road at some point farther down along the road on which we were marching. It was quite dark, and we were proceeding very slowly, as we were uncertain of the whereabouts or strength of the enemy. Goyle had got all the men off the road, and was making them move single file by companies along the ditches. We proceeded some distance in this way, but no cross-roads could be found, and after a bit Goyle halted and sent back for further instructions. He discovered at the same time that communication had not been maintained with the brigade on the right, and that the Dorchesters showed no inclination to leave the village they had reached, but were disposed to billet there. In fact, everything pointed to a slight muddle having arisen, as a result of which the three companies of my regiment might be severe sufferers in their isolated position if the enemy suddenly attacked. It was the sort of occasion when many officers less experienced than Goyle might have done something which would have led to a disaster. Many, for instance, would have pushed boldly on until they found the cross-roads or met the enemy. They would have said that those were their orders and that it was not for them to wonder whether there was any mistake. However, Goyle was not of this sort. He believed in using his own judgment and acting as circumstances seemed to dictate. His first concern was for the lives of his men, which he would throw away as lightly as his own if necessary, but which he always guarded jealously against the possible perils of tactical mistakes.
"I don't like this," he said once or twice, as we were standing there waiting for the reply to the message he had sent back. "It is all very well, you know, but if they came for us now in any strength we should get scuppered." It was dark, and we seemed a long way out along the road from the other troops. I understood what he meant, and saw the danger. Presently the orderly returned with a written message from the Commanding Officer: "You are to go on as far as the R in ——, and remain in the village for the night." Goyle pulled out his map, and we bent over it. —— was a village of a few cottages, apparently about a quarter of a mile down the road. I could see Goyle did not like the order. "It is all very well," he said; "probably the enemy are in the village—a nice trap we shall be walking into. I shall send on a patrol, and if the village is held I shan't move on till daylight, when we have got some reinforcements up."