After another night in the open air Boussu was reached on the following morning. From there they were sent on to Lille, and afterwards to Le Havre and England.
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Sergeant Bird and Private Woolgar, of the 4th Dragoon Guards, also had the misfortune to miss their regiment. They said:—
It was when we were sent out under General Allenby to help the left wing, which was hard pressed, that our misfortunes began. Our horses were shot under us, but we struggled after our men as best we could until we picked up some German horses, all of which bore the mark K 4 on the reins. We had hardly got going again when we had these shot under us by the German artillery, with the result that we were stranded absolutely on our own, and you can guess our feelings as we saw our squadron moving away on the right. We were all more or less injured. One of our chaps had his arms split right open, and calmly said, “I say, boys, do you think I’m hurt?”
We endeavoured to get the wounded to a neighbouring farmhouse, and succeeded in taking several there, but on going back with the last batch were refused admission, as by this time the occupants could see the Germans bearing down in that direction in force. We then made for the fowlhouse and hid there, but our position was very dangerous, as it was not long before the Germans began to enter in order to wash their wounds at the little well in the corner.
It was pitch dark at the time (continued Sergeant Bird), and I found the most comfortable position for me was sitting in a basket, which, I realised after a few moments and by certain signs, had contained a dozen eggs in the straw. The artillery were now in action, and the British seemed to have found the spot, as the tiles of our hiding-place began to fall in, and we found it advisable to put baskets over our heads as well; otherwise they would have been split open by the flying tiles and fragments of shells.
When night came we decided to endeavour to escape from our perilous position, and just outside the door we found a German sentry, who seemed to be scouting for British fugitives. We passed quite close to him, but didn’t stop to say “Good-night.” How we did it I can’t for the life of me tell you, but we did it, and then made off as we thought towards the British lines, but to our disgust found we were going right into the German lines. We decided, therefore, to anchor there for the night and get away in the morning. We found this was the German Headquarters Staff, so that we can say we dined with the German generals that night, the only difference being that they were inside and we were outside; they were having wines, &c., and we had swedes and no &c.
In the morning we had to dodge sentries, but found that presented little difficulty. We decided then to travel south-west, with the sun as our guide. To do this, however, was impossible, for in our wanderings we had day after day to dodge German troops, who were continually marching across our tracks. We can hardly describe what happened during this time, but the harrowing sights we saw will never be effaced from our memories. Our condition was terrible, for we were at one time reduced to five biscuits between three of us, and these had to suffice us for three days. Sometimes we were afraid to drink water because we heard it was poisoned. At last we met the British.
Private Alexander Andrews, of the Royal Scots, spoke of the deadly havoc of the shrapnel:—
But the German infantry could not hit the place they belong to. We could not help hitting them. We saw them first about 800 yards away, and they came along in bunches just like a crowd leaving a football match. Our Maxims simply struck them down, and I will guarantee that for every one that fell on our side they lost ten or twelve. It was “rapid firing,” and we gave it them hot. None in our trench was killed, and we had only five or six, including myself, injured with shrapnel. A piece of shrapnel struck me on the top of the left ankle about half-past seven o’clock, cutting through my boot and making me feel a little queer. I bandaged it up, and went off with the others when the order came to retire about one o’clock on the Monday morning. Mons was in flames by that time, and the German big guns had been blazing about all night. We had been in a tight corner—two regiments against thousands, as most of us believe—and I would like to say a word for our captain, Captain Hill Whitson. In the trenches on the Sunday night, August 23, he was walking about with his revolver, ready for anything, and cheering us up while the shrapnel played about our position. Well, as I said, we had to retire. We went back three or four miles. The first regiment we saw was the Gordons, and I took particular notice that they had a German prisoner in the front of their ranks.
The aeroplanes were employed with great skill by the Germans, before opening fire, to take observations for the range of their artillery, and the precise locality of our soldiers. It was, moreover, evident that they possessed an intimate knowledge of the country where the fighting took place. Owing to the enormous number of the German reserves, when one regiment was vanquished another was always ready to take its place, and so they advanced like an avalanche.
The slaughter was awful: the British suffered terribly, but the German losses were appalling. It is stated that in some places the dead of the enemy was piled up to a height of six feet, and that to pass over them the Germans made bridges of the corpses of their own men.
Here, as elsewhere, the Germans resorted to cowardly brutality. Their cavalry are said to have driven women and children in front of them in the streets, to protect them from the British fire. But the enemy lost as well as gained reputations: Sir Philip Chetwode, the cavalry leader, after fighting without ceasing for ten days, with odds of five to one against them, said, “We have been through the Uhlans like brown paper.”
Innumerable cases of personal heroism have been recalled. That of Captain Grenfell must not be omitted. Although suffering from two severe wounds, he participated in the rescue of two British guns, after shrapnel shell had burst over them and struck the artillerymen who were serving them. This act enabled troopers of the 9th Lancers under his direction to get away.