Then began the pitiful procession of the wounded, who, with haggard faces, were dragging themselves with difficulty towards the rear. Some of them went along, bent nearly double, walking in the ditches. Others were supported by the ambulance men, or by priests of the ambulance contingent. Some, too, were carried on stretchers, or even in their coats held at the four corners.
Standing up, in the middle of the road, disdainful of the destructive shells which struck horses quite near them, or of the shrapnels which hit the horses they were leading, or of the bullets which whizzed through the branches, General de Witte and his Staff watched the various phases of the struggle, giving to the troops a fine example of fearlessness in the midst of danger. Débris of all kinds strewed the ground, ammunition waggons came galloping along the road, bringing fresh supplies, whilst along the whole front, fires lighted by the shells sent up their sinister light and bitter smoke towards the clear sky above.
Victory!
The battle seemed still undecided when the sun was sinking in the horizon, but just then, our artillery men noticed a retreating movement of the enemy's line, which, driven by our Infantry, was beginning to fall back towards the bridge and village of Haelen. Our men immediately opened fire, with all their cannons, in the direction of the passage along which the fugitives were pouring. The latter, in spite of the efforts and threats of their officers, drew away with them the Cavalry regiments that had just come to their rescue. The retreat, as night came on, degenerated into a wild helter-skelter, which went on as far as Hasselt and Herck-St. Lambert, where the defeated troops fortified themselves hastily, in order to be able to oppose an eventual pursuit.
The dismal croaking of the crows could now be heard in the night which was already almost dark. The galloping of the frightened horses, spurred on cruelly by their riders, hammered on the pavement. Under the ceaseless rain of projectiles from the Belgian guns, the ten German regiments, magnificent as they had been in the morning, formed now only a disorderly mob trampling on the foot-soldiers, the dead, and the wounded, and abandoning their officers and even their Generals. At the other extremity of the battle-field, could be heard the songs of victory of the Belgian troops, triumphing in their first feat of arms.
The Night after the Combat
Gradually, the battle-field became silent, a veil of darkness, of mourning, and of terror covered this ground, where so many young men, who only the day before were so happy to live, were now sleeping their last sleep, or moaning in pain, abandoned to their fate.
The silence of night, which followed the hell-like noise of the day before, seemed more profound than ever. The stars, which were already twinkling, and the moon, shining in all its brilliancy, were a startling contrast to the horrors before our eyes. Our thoughts became clearer as we walked slowly along in the direction of our quarters. The tension of our nerves was at last relaxed. Many of us had not found our horses again. They had disappeared, and some of them had been killed in the tumult. This walk in the darkness of night gradually soothed our minds, and the memories of all that had happened became clearer.
Heroes. Courageous Deeds of our Soldiers and Officers
We thought of that cyclist, brave Royer, belonging to the Cavalry Division of the Staff. He had gone out resolutely, in the very midst of the fight, to bring in an officer, Lieutenant Waepenaere, who had been wounded in the thigh when he was leading out some timid foot-soldiers to the fray, young men who had not been under fire before. This brave soldier went back a second time into the furnace to get a machine-gun that had been abandoned and that he had to bring back on a cart. He then returned a third time to shoot two German cavalry men with his revolver. He had seen them hiding behind the sheaves and they had fired on him when he was bringing back his Lieutenant, and again when he was returning with the machine-gun. He brought their two helmets with him on his last expedition.