The Germans turned and fled in all directions, completely routed and wholly disorganized. Such was the effect on the Irish Guards of the sight of their old green flag and the cry of “Erin Go Bragh”: Corpl. Michael O’Mara, of the Irish Guards.
A Midnight Move
One night when it was unusually wet and miserable and dreary, and some of us had got all the humps that ever were seen on a camel’s back, the Assembly sounded, and we were paraded at midnight. We fell in, glad to have something to take us away from our miserable surroundings. We didn’t know what the move was when we were marched out into the darkness, but we didn’t care much so long as it was warming work. We tramped through weary swamps and soaking wet fields for nearly five miles, and then we were halted near to a line of German trenches, while scouts went on ahead and the remainder of the force was being conducted to its assigned position. Just when some of us felt like having the creeps all over because of the uncanny stillness of everything, a rifle shot rang out, followed by others, and then there was a regular volley. We lay down quickly and tried to peer into the darkness to see something to aim at. There was nothing: and then their artillery opened fire all along the line. Shells kept bursting all over us, and our horses began to get restive. By now the whole of our attacking force was in position, and our artillery opened fire at the points where the attack was to be delivered. The order to advance was given quietly, and we sprang to our feet with right good will. Some of us went down again jolly quick under the German fire, but we kept moving on, and by that time the Germans were losing the range. We were supported by an infantry brigade that had to clear a line of trenches on the right. The four battalions opened out in extended order and pressed slowly towards their goal. Men dropped quickly, dotting the line of advance, but in less than half an hour our lads were ready for the tiger-spring that never fails. The Germans met them with a heavy rifle fire as they climbed the last slope, and when they got to the top they were assailed by twice their number of infantry armed with the bayonet. At one point the line broke, and our lads fell back in some confusion. Reserves were pressed forward to feed the fighting line, and the advance began again. Once more the Germans were too heavy for our chaps, and again they were forced back. They halted for a little to take a rest and then began again. They dashed up the slope like wild cats and closed with the Germans, who were by this time getting tired of it. There was no falling back this time, and though it was very hard work indeed, the whole line of trenches was cleared and the Germans sent flying: A Trooper of the 15th Hussars.
A High Ordeal
I was on picket duty, and it was just after midnight when the men ahead fell back reporting strange sounds all along the front. At the same moment we heard rustling in the bushes close by, and as there was no response to the challenge we fired, thus giving the alarm in the sleeping camp. Out of the bushes the enemy’s advanced guard rushed, but we held them in check until we deemed it wise to fall back on the camp with a report of the enemy’s strength and disposition. We reckoned there was at least a whole German army corps attacking, supported by endless bodies of cavalry and ten batteries of guns, besides hundreds of machine guns. When we got back to camp we found everything was in apple-pie order for the fight. The men were standing to their arms, and though some of them were cursing a lot at being roused from their sleep and vowing what they would do to the chuckle-headed pickets if it turned out to be a false alarm, they were ready to do their duty like men. They hadn’t long to wait for the Germans, who were really close on our heels. On our way back we had heard our artillery open fire and saw the shells bursting along the German lines. At the same moment the Germans, who seemed to realize that their surprise was no surprise at all, opened fire with their artillery right along the front, and their searchlights were playing all round like so many will-o’-the-wisps. Their searchlights were useful to us, because they enabled us to see something of their strength as they advanced. Soon we saw coming out of the inky darkness a long line of white faces, and in response to the quick order we fired right into them. The first line wavered for a moment or two, part of it was blotted out, but the line of reserves behind filled up the gaps and the front line advanced again, seeming not to heed the heavy hail of bullets we were pouring into them. Within about one hundred yards of our trenches the first line of advancing Germans flung themselves flat on the earth, fixing bayonets, while the second fired over their heads, and yet a third line was pushing forward men to fill the gaps of the second line where our fire tore through. Then the first line rose and the second fixed bayonets also. Finally, they all came sweeping forward with the bayonet and threw themselves right on to our trenches. We poured one terrible volley into them as they came on, but all the devils in hell would not have stopped them. Our front ranks gave way slightly before the fierceness of the attack and the weight of men hurled at them, but the recoil was only temporary. We steadied ourselves, and while they were standing still for a moment to take breath and dress their ranks for another rush we went at them with the bayonet and hurled them over the trenches down the hill again. It was in this rush that I got run through with a bayonet, but as I lay on the ground doing my best to forget the pain in the exultation of victory, I saw our lads chase them across country in fine style, and I knew from the cheers all along the line that we were beating them back: A Sergeant of the Worcester Regiment.
[VII. WHAT THE SOLDIER SEES]
On came the whirlwind—like the last
But fiercest sweep of tempest blast: