The week of September 5-12, 1914, witnessed the entire series of the battles of the Marne, which drove the Germans across the Marne and across the Aisne, as well as a German victory which exerted almost as powerful an influence in favor of the invaders as the check at the Marne did for the defenders. This victory was the fall of Maubeuge. It is going too far to say—as several military writers have done—that General von Zwehl saved Germany, and that unless he had arrived as opportunely as he did the "German retreat to the Aisne valley would have been changed into a disastrous and overwhelming rout." But it is not going too far to say that the successful holding of the Aisne line was due to the victor of Maubeuge.
General von Zwehl was one of the iron-jawed battle-scarred warriors of 1870, a man with a will as metallic as his own siege guns, and a man who could no more be deflected from his purpose than a shell could be diverted in its flight. He had been set to reduce Maubeuge and he had done so with speed and with thoroughness. Maubeuge was not protected by open-air earthworks, but by a circle of armor-plate concrete forts. To the mighty siege guns handled by General von Zwehl, these were no trouble, for Von Zwehl had not only the heavy batteries attached to the Seventh Army Reserve, but he also had a number of Von Kluck's guns and the majority of General von Bülow's, neither of whom was expected to need siege guns in the forward drive where mobility was an essential. In addition to this, General von Zwehl also had the great siege train that had been prepared for the reduction of Paris. What chance had Maubeuge against such a potency?
On September 8, 1914, word reached General von Zwehl that the forward drive had failed, that the main armies had been beaten back and that he was to bring up his guns as rapidly as possible to cover the retreat. As rapidly as he could, to General von Zwehl, meant but one thing—to get there! He collected 9,000 reserve troops, which was almost immediately swelled by another 9,000, and with a total of 18,000 troops he started his siege trains for the town of Laon, where Field Marshal von Heeringen had taken up his headquarters. The weather turned bad, rendering the heavy guns extremely difficult to handle, but there could be no delay, no explanations, to General von Zwehl. If a gun was to be brought it was to be brought and that was all about it! Four days and three nights of almost continuous marching is killing. The German commander cared nothing for that. The guns must be kept moving. Could he get them there on time? In the last twenty-four hours of the march, his 18,000 troops covered 41 miles and they arrived in Laon at six o'clock in the morning of September 13, 1914, and were in action an hour later. The problem, therefore, before the English and French at the Aisne, was not the carrying of the river against a disheartened and retreating army, but the carrying of the river against a well-thought-out and forceful plan—a plan, moreover, backed up by the most powerful artillery that the world has ever seen.
[CHAPTER XXI]
THE BRITISH AT THE AISNE
In the battles of the Marne, the brunt of the fighting had been borne mainly by the French armies, but the major part of work of the battle of the Aisne was borne by the British Expeditionary Force. Sir John French wasted no time. Saturday night, September 12, 1914, was a night of labor for engineers and gunners. The bridge trains belonging to the First and Second Army Corps were ordered to the edge of the river at daybreak, and as soon as the first gleam of dawn appeared in the sky, the heroic effort began.
At the risk of seeming a little detailed, in order to understand the somewhat involved maneuvers by which the British won the crossing of the Aisne, instead of dealing with the advance of the British army as a unit, in the manner that was done in discussing the battles of the Marne, their activities will be shown as army corps: the Third Army Corps to the westward, under General Pulteney; the Second Army Corps, under Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien, and the First Army Corps to the eastward, under Sir Douglas Haig, all, of course, under the general direction of Sir John French.
The British had no means of knowing what was in front of them. There was only one way to find out—a way, alas, often costly, a way that in every campaign costs thousands of lives apparently fruitlessly, and that is a frontal attack. Down over the slopes of the southern bank, into the bright, smiling river valley, where the little white villages in the distance were hiding their dilapidated state, marched the British army. Not a sign of activity showed itself upon the farther shore. A summer haze obscured objects at a distance, but, shortly before nine o'clock, the German batteries opened fire with a roar that was appalling.
The Third Army Corps, after a brief artillery duel, advanced on Soissons to cover the work of the engineers who were building a pontoon bridge for the French troops. The German fire was deadly, yet though more than half their men fell, the engineers put the pontoon bridge across. German howitzer fire, from behind the ridge, however, soon destroyed the bridge. The Turcos crossed the river in rowboats and had a fierce but indecisive struggle in the streets of the medieval city. Meanwhile, with the failure of the pontoon bridge at Soissons, General Pulteney struck to the northeast along the road to Venizel. The bridge at that point had been blown up, but the British sappers repaired it sufficiently to set the Eleventh Brigade across, and even, despite the lurid hail of shot and shell, four regiments gathered at Bucy-de-Long by one o'clock on that Sunday, September 13, 1914. Over the heads of these courageous regiments towered the great hill of Vregny, a veritable Gibraltar of heavy guns with numerous machine guns along the wooded edge. There was no protection, and no shelter against the terrible German Maxim fire, so that the moment came when to attempt further advance meant instant annihilation. Still, under cover of the success of the Eleventh Brigade the engineers built a pontoon bridge at Venizel and the Twelth Brigade crossed to Bucy-de-Long, with a number of the lighter artillery. As there was absolutely no shelter, to storm the height at that point was impossible, and to remain where they were was merely to court sudden death, so the Twelfth Brigade worked over the slopes to the ravine at Chipres, where they intrenched.