Taking Risks
Our officer asked for a man to go with him to blow a bridge up, so that the Germans could not follow us, and I went with him. All our men had retired. Well, to blow a bridge up we use gun-cotton and a wire fuse. It is safe enough if you take your wire well away, but this time it would not work. The men in running back had stepped on the wire, so we had to go nearer to the bridge and try again. Then it would not act, so the officer said to me, “Go back, Wells.” I said, “No, I’ll go with you.” We were the only two on the bridge, and the Germans were shooting at us, but our luck was in. Well, we both lay down, and I fired ten rounds with my rifle, and he did the same with his pistol, and then it would not work. If it had we should both have gone up with it, so you see what a near shave we had. We made a dive back and got some more gun-cotton, and we were making to have another go when an officer called us back and told us it was no use us trying, so we came back: Sapper Wells, Royal Engineers.
Broke the Line
The welcome order to fix bayonets and charge came at last, and we didn’t lose much time in getting at them, As we finished the last lap of our race for their trenches they concentrated a fiendish fire on us, but that didn’t stop us at all, and we reached their trenches at last with a wild whoop that must have struck terror to their hearts. For the first time in my experience they made a desperate attempt to repel us with the bayonet. Their weight seemed enough to hurl us back, but we stuck to them like leeches, and at last their line began to waver. They were stretched across the trenches in one long line, and when one man fell another slipped into his place. Near the centre we made a break in the line, and then the whole lot gave way, running like hares, and throwing down their arms as they ran. We bayoneted them by the score as they ran, and shot them down in dozens until we were completely used up. Their officers made many attempts to rally them, but it was no good, and those who could not get away surrendered rather than face any more of it: A Non-commissioned Officer of the Irish Guards.
A “Hot Shop”
Where we were posted was a hot shop, and for a week the Germans had been treating us to night attacks. It was long past our time for standing treat in return, and we weren’t surprised one night when we were paraded and marched out in the direction of where the Germans had been firing from all day. In the pitch darkness it was slow work, and the men had to be halted every few minutes to enable the guides to take their bearings from the few stars that were overhead. By three o’clock we were resting on a slight slope leading up from a stream, when the scouting parties ahead reported movements in front. A few minutes after that we stumbled right on top of a big body of Germans stealing along as quietly as we had come, and evidently trying a surprise attack on our camp. You can bet your last half-crown that we didn’t wait to ask if their intentions were honourable. We just shot right into them, and the ball was opened in fine style. Before they had time to think what was happening, we had fixed bayonets and were charging down on them. We swept them off their feet and right down the other side of the slope in confusion: A Lance-Corporal of the Cameron Highlanders.
“Talk About Excitement!”
It was like going to a football match, cracking jokes and singing all the ragtimes we knew. All our fellows knew what depended upon the result, and that only made them the more determined. But it was determination in the best of spirits. And how our fellows did fight, with always a joke handy and utter fearlessness. The Germans looked like a forest approaching, but that didn’t daunt us, and our artillery replied to theirs with interest. For hour after hour it was one continuous stream of shot and shell. Their artillery was the best part about them, their individual firing being poor, but our artillery was far better, though their biggest guns created the most havoc among our ranks. Talk about excitement, it was all excitement from the beginning and during the retirement. There was nothing else for us to do. It was a rare hot time. We were working for concentration the whole time, and there is no doubt about it, our orders were the best possible under the circumstances. The Germans were making a mark of us all along, but directly we got our chances we let them have it: A Private, at Mons.