The firing suddenly ceased, and through the smoke we saw the German infantry creeping along the fire-scorched grass. They were heading for a stream on which our right rested, and were coming on with an easy, confident swing, when we got the order to mount our horses, which had been lying ready by our sides all through the shelling. We chased the Germans for about a mile, and cut them to ribbons, and then we ran full-tilt into their cavalry supports, who were drawn up by the wayside in wait for us. The impetus of our charge carried us past them, and they closed up along the road in our rear to bar our way back, evidently thinking they had only to say the word and we would set out for Berlin like so many Sunday-school children out for their treat. This was the first time we had any experience of German cavalry, getting in our way of their own accord, but wonders never cease in war, and we just took it as it came. We charged into them in our best Heavy Brigade Balaclava style, and gave them a fine cutting up. They didn’t want very much of it, and soon cleared off into the fields: A Trooper of the Royal Irish Dragoons.
A Night Surprise
One night we were moving out to take up a new position, when we suddenly came on a big force of Germans occupying a strong position right across the road along which we had to march. Soon the still night air brought the sound of marching men further up the road, and as the new force came nearer, we found that they were French troops moving to effect a junction with the force we were going to reinforce. The Germans had somehow got wind of the move, and were preparing a little surprise for the French. They were so cocksure about their rear that they had not taken the ordinary precautions, and as we had moved quietly they were in ignorance of our presence within easy rifle shot. Just when they were getting ready for the attack on the oncoming French force the order to fire was passed along our ranks quietly, and we let drive right into them. They were absolutely panic-stricken, and fled in terror along the road, right into the arms of the French. The impetuosity of their rush, and its unexpected character, threw the French infantry into disorder for a time, and when we moved forward the French at first took us for Germans, and were getting ready to fire on us. At great personal risk an officer and two men rushed towards the French force with a white flag and explained things. Then we were all right, and you may believe me we generally are all right: A Private of the Cameron Highlanders.
No Fight Left
A party of the Royal Irish Lancers were out scouting and patrolling one day, when a sergeant-major and a trooper who were ahead came on a long, straggling line of German transport wagons loaded up, and under a happy-go-lucky escort. The Lancers, though they didn’t know it, had cut into the enemy’s line of retreat. The men were got together quickly, and they moved up the road to where there was an ideal spot for ambushing the convoy. It had to pass over a narrow stone bridge that was commanded by a clump of trees, in which our men were able to take shelter and hide their horses. The escort with the wagons was at least five times the strength of the squadron of Lancers, but that didn’t trouble them very much. They waited until the head of the column was straggling across the bridge, and then they emptied their carbines into them along a wide front that gave the impression of great force. The Germans were taken completely by surprise. Their horses started to rear and plunge, and many men and animals went over into the stream, being carried away. The motor wagons could not be stopped in time and they crashed into each other in hopeless confusion. Into this confused mass of frightened men and horses and wagons that ran amok the Lancers now charged from two separate points. The Lancers made short work of the escort at the head of the column, and the officer in command agreed to surrender all that was under his direct control, though he said he couldn’t account for the rearguard. When we came up on motors to seize a position for the purpose of heading off the Germans in retreat, we found the Lancers waiting there with all their spoil, and getting ready to receive the rest of the escort in case it should show fight. There wasn’t much fight left in them, and they surrendered at sight, giving up the whole supply column: A Private of the Cameronians.
All Sorts of Sacrifices
Along the Aisne the Germans made some absolutely desperate attempts to break through our line, and they counted no sacrifice too great to achieve their end. One day I saw a brigade of theirs caught in a deadly trap. There was a gap in our lines between one of our brigades and the nearest French force. The Germans made a sudden dash for that gap under cover of their artillery, and, though they were exposed to a heavy fire that cut deep lines through their ranks, they came steadily on. They had nearly reached their goal when a sudden movement of British reserves on the left brought a fierce attack on the Germans from the rear. At the same time the Germans were fired on from our men and the French on either flank. They had either to continue their forward march, with the certainty of disaster, or turn and try to hew their way out again through our reserves. They chose the latter course, and their artillery tried to back them up in every possible way. Owing to the disposition of forces it was a risky job to keep up artillery fire, and soon the shells began to do as much damage among the Germans as to the British or French. The Germans kept falling back under the double fire, and at the same time great clouds of cavalry came moving out in support of their retirement. The British force taking the Germans in the rear was now in danger of being taken in the rear itself, but reinforcements were hurried out, and our cavalry began the work of pressing back the German cavalry advancing to the assistance of their trapped infantry. Now the air was thick with fighting men, and the cries of the combatants were deafening. The retreating Germans kept moving steadily towards their oncoming cavalry, dropping men by the hundred as they retreated, but just when they seemed to have reached their goal our infantry were on them, and they were hurled against the French position on the right. After this there was nothing for it but to cut and run, and what looked to be one of the best brigades of the German army was soon nothing more than a mass of panic-stricken men flying in quest of a hiding-place from the fire by which they were assailed. In their flight they cast aside arms and equipment or anything likely to impede their rush. For half a mile in front of our position there were piles of dead and dying to testify to the terrible execution done by our artillery and rifle fire, and that repulse saw the end of the German attempts to break through our line at that particular point: A Motor-Cyclist Dispatch-Rider.