A Modern Legionary

by John Patrick Le Poer

The Black Flags and their allies, the Chinese regulars, gave us very little trouble on our march towards Lang-Son. What little fighting did take place on the way cannot be described by me, as my battalion had nothing to do with it. Annamite tirailleurs with some French soldiers and legionaries formed the first line of the advance. They easily overcame all the opposition offered to them; it was only when the grand assault in force had to be made that we others came into the fighting line. While advancing rations again were both good and sufficient; occasionally too we got an allowance of wine or brandy, and these extra rations pleased us very much, for it is wonderfully easy to make soldiers happy. Our guards and pickets were just as well set and kept as ever—our officers were taking no risks—and God help the man of ours who slept at his post. We acquiesed cheerfully in this; and in any case we were so accustomed to exact discipline and perfect precautions against surprise that constant guard and picket-mounting seemed as natural as getting one's morning coffee or evening soup. Since we did not march much any day there was always a fairly long time in camp, and when we entered camp in the evening, the men who had been up the night before lay down and rested while the others, who had had, thanks to their comrades' watchfulness, a good night's rest, lit the fires and cooked the evening meal and performed all the other duties that soldiers have to do in the field. This had a good effect upon all; it was just as if one man said to another: "You watched last night while I slept in safety, I will now work while you rest in comfort and wait for your soup." The officers, I am sure, noted this and were glad: anything that makes soldiers better comrades tends also to make them better fighting men.

At last the day came when we were within striking distance of the enemy. All ranks were satisfied. We knew that very soon the disgrace of the last action would be wiped away, and we in the ranks were just as eager to clean the slate as our officers. I do not think that many were thinking of gaining promotion or distinction in the fight. The important thing was to show to all the world, or at least to that part of it which was interested in the campaign, that our reverse was but an accident of war and its effects only temporary. Again, we all desired satisfaction for the torments and annoyances of the retreat; these were too recent to be easily forgotten.

The battle was begun, as usual, by the artillery. They, however, were not long the only men engaged, for very soon after the cannonade had begun the long lines of infantry were extended to right and left. My company was in the right attack, and we went gaily forward in skirmishing order until a man or two fell. Then we opened fire at a pretty long range at the place where the cloud of smoke told us that our friends the enemy lay. This firing did not delay the advance. On the contrary, it hastened it, for now we fired and ran forward, fired again and made another dash towards the front. Indeed, our officers and sergeants had a good deal of work to keep us from going along too quickly, and in the end we corporals were commanded to cease firing and to devote our attention exclusively to keeping our squads well in hand, so that the line might advance evenly and the men be brought up in sound wind and condition to the point where the bayonets would be fixed for the final charge. Of course, I know you will say that the corporals should have been doing this from the very outset, but it is very hard for a man to carry a rifle and cartridges without making some use of them. Why, I have seen officers, and those of high rank too, take the rifle of a dead man and half-a-dozen cartridges from his pouch in order to have the satisfaction of firing a few shots at the enemy. It is human nature, or rather the nature of soldiers in a fight; one likes to feel that he is doing something on his own account to help his comrades and to hurt the foe.

Well, the officers and the sub-officers worked well together, and the men, to give them their due, obeyed orders willingly, especially when the excitement of the first firing had passed away and they had settled down to the steady work of the advance. When we came within about four hundred yards of the entrenchments the rushes succeeded one another more rapidly, and men went a greater distance between shots. Thus we gradually approached, until finally we were all ordered to lie down and fix bayonets. As we did so the supports joined the fighting line—they were somewhat blown with the last race forward—and so we lay about eighty yards or less from the enemy's position, firing as quickly as possible. The Chinese regulars and the Black Flags were not remiss either in their volleys. A hail of bullets crossed the zone between us, but their fire slowly slackened, especially as a very storm of shells was falling towards their rear. Their supports, we saw, could not easily come up. At length the guns in our rear ceased shelling the position; at the same time the fire had greatly diminished in front. The commandant saw that the time had come, and at the sound of the charge we sprang up, ran at the regulation pas gymnastique towards the trenches, and, when about twenty yards away, rushed at the top of our speed, with the usual charging cry of "Kill, kill," at the fortifications, which had been already so badly damaged by the guns. In a few seconds we were in and using the bayonet with deadly earnestness and a grim determination to wash away in blood the memory of our recent defeat. The Black Flags flung down their weapons and ran out at the back of the entrenchments, but the Chinese regulars fought very well indeed. Well as the Chinese fought they could not long stand up against us. I have already mentioned that they are very light; indeed, I doubt if the average weight is much more than seven stone and a half. Then they can stand bayoneting without shrinking, but they are by no means quick in using the bayonet themselves; again, if a Chinaman gets you on the ground he will drive his weapon home six or seven times more than are needed, and will never notice your comrade coming along, quietly, with lowered head and levelled bayonet to attack. It seems to me that the Chinese go into a fight with something ugly to foreigners to meet, but altogether unlike what we Europeans call courage; they just go in, they kill, they are killed, and that is all there is about it. Yet they are not cowards; if they are, why did they not run like the Black Flags? And they will charge wounded men with spirit, if I may use the word in that connection; and with just as much steady calmness they will await the onset of the foreign devils when they rush the mound, get into the ditch and slay, and, not yet slaked with blood, rush out at the rear of the entrenchments with bloody bayonets, and loot and murder and rapine in their minds.

We got in, and in a few moments not a man was left standing up in the trenches. We looked around. What was the next thing to do? "No. 1 Company, remain here," shouted the commandant as he tried to staunch the blood that ran down the left side of his face from an ugly sabre slash on the temple; "the other companies advance." We three companies got out at the rear of the field fortifications and awaited orders again. "Go up that hill, captain"—this to my captain from the commandant—"and help the soldiers of the line to carry it." "Yes, my commandant," said the captain. We turned towards the right and looked at the little hill. It was about three hundred yards only from level ground to crest; the top was fortified, but only slightly; the soldiers of the line were half-way up on their side, but they were meeting with a very gallant resistance. The rifles above showed no signs of slackening; a heavy, dense smoke covered the crest of the hill; midway down you saw the spirts of flame and little smoke clouds where the French were going up. That smoke quickly disappeared, for the men never fired twice in the same spot. We ran at first up the hill, and were not noticed; very soon we went more easily, as the hill grew steeper and the rifles above began to pay us attention. Then we fired upwards in return, but our bayonets were fixed, and we knew very well that in these alone lay any chance of success. How could we hit men above us whom we could not see? It was impossible, but we could, and did, send bullets so near their heads that aiming down was almost as fruitless for them as aiming up was for the soldiers of the line and ourselves.

As we went along an officer ran up almost to the top, waving his sword, and crying out to the men to follow. We went a little more quickly. Just as he reached a point about ten paces from the outer face of the entrenchments he fell, shot through the heart. A great cry arose from us; we sprang up, disregarding all cover, and madly raced for the summit of the little hill. Volley after volley was fired at us, but with little damage. Take my word for it, when the Asiatic sees the European charging with bayonet on rifle-barrel his aim is not quite so good as usual, and in any case his best is not much. So we rushed, and when we came to the little fortification we had small difficulty in getting in; by that time the French soldiers of the line had crowned the height on their side and were over the entrenchments. We were almost shoved back by the fugitives running from the Frenchmen, but we steadied ourselves and gave them the bayonet, until at last they were all down, and the soldiers of the line and the legionaries alone stood facing one another on the little hill with ugly curses and bloody steel. Not that they cursed us or we them; only when you are using the bayonet, and for a while afterwards, your language is a real reflex of your thoughts.

It was the Frenchmen who really carried the hill; we had only come in towards the end to their assistance. So we left them on the ground that they had so gallantly won, and, going down the side nearest the remnants of our opponents, we looked for more work, more excitement, more glory, and more revenge. And we found them all very soon.

We had scarcely reached the bottom of the hill when a crowd of Chinese regulars, with some Black Flags who had not run away, charged us with loud cries and imprecations. We met them fairly and squarely, and pushed them at the point of the bayonet a few yards back. They were reinforced, and by sheer weight of numbers made us for a time give way. Our officers fought like devils; truth to tell, though we did not like them, we could not help admiring their courage in a fight. The captain was down, so was the sub-lieutenant, the lieutenant had been wounded at the beginning of the battle; the one sergeant who was left took up the command and led us back from a short retreat in an ugly rush against the enemy. I saw a Black Flag carrying a standard in his left hand, while he cut all around at our fellows with the sword in his right. I determined to have that flag, or at least to make a bold try for it, and went with levelled bayonet at the barbarian. He cut down a man of ours as I came, and had not time to parry my thrust with his sword, and failed to do so with the staff of the banner. He took the point fairly in the left side, and I had only just time to get my weapon back when he delivered a furious slash at my head. Receiving this on the middle of the rifle-barrel I thrust a second time, and sent him fairly to the ground. Reversing my rifle—that is, holding it at the left side instead of the right—I stabbed straight down, and pinned his right hand to the ground. Pressing then on the rifle with my left hand, so that he could not free his sword arm, I plucked away the banner with my right. Nicholas at the time shouted out: "Look out, corporal, look out." And, looking up, I saw half-a-dozen Black Flags coming straight at me. I flung the banner on the ground, pulled my bayonet out of the savage's hand, and, just in time, got into a posture of defence. The first man I stopped with a lunge in the face just between the eyes, but the others would have killed me were it not that now the squad came to my assistance. Nicholas and the others soon finished the half-dozen who had attacked me, but others came up too, and very soon about a dozen of us were desperately resisting a desperate attack. They outnumbered us by about four to one, but we were heavier, steadier, and, above all, quicker with the bayonet. All the same, man after man of ours went down till half our number lay dead or dying on the ground. Luckily, Le Grand noticed our difficulty and, calling together six or eight men of his own squad, came to our assistance. Le Grand and his comrades took the Black Flags in the flank; the new assailants overwhelmed them; they gave way sullenly at first, but in the end broke and fled, leaving more than half their number on the field. I was happy in retaining the banner, but I almost at once learned how dear that banner was to me. A cry from Le Grand made me turn round, and I saw Nicholas lying on the ground and a wounded Black Flag cutting at him with a sabre, while the poor Russian did his best to ward off the blows with his hands. As I looked, a Spaniard of Le Grand's squad drove his bayonet up to the rifle-muzzle three times in quick succession into the body of the wounded savage who was trying to kill our good comrade. I ran to Nicholas and, laying down rifle and captured flag, asked him how he felt, was he badly wounded, and without waiting for an answer began to bind his wounded arms and hands. He shook his head sadly.

"It is no use, my comrade; I have got worse than that."

Indeed he had, for his left side was torn open. Nicholas nodded his head towards a dead Black Flag, and we saw at once the weapon that had inflicted so horrible a wound. It was shaped somewhat like a bill-hook, but could be used for thrusting as well as cutting, about four inches of the end being shaped like a broad-bladed knife, the remainder of the steel rather resembling a narrow-bladed hatchet. The poor Russian, in spite of the severe wound, had managed to kill his enemy. I am glad he did so, for, had the barbarian been only wounded, I should have been sorely tempted to finish the work, and though one may kill a helpless man without pity when "seeing red" or to avenge a friend, yet afterwards the thought of such slaughter is unpleasant. After some time we stopped the bleeding, and were glad to be able to give him a good long drink, and then to refill his own water bottle with the few drops still remaining in the bottoms of ours. We left him only when we had to rejoin the company. The sergeant who now commanded it asked me gruffly where I had been. I showed him the captured banner, and in a few words told of the desperate fight made by the Black Flags to regain it. He seemed satisfied, and asked how many men I had lost.