In The Firing Line

They were at least three to our one, and our artillery could not be in fifty places at once, so we just had to stick it. The German infantry are bad skirmishers and rotten shots, and they were simply mowed down in batches by our chaps. They came in companies of, I should say, 150 men in file five deep, and we simply rained bullets at them the live-long day. At about five p.m. the Germans in the left front of us retired, and we saw no more of them.

The Royal Irish Regiment had had an awful smashing earlier on, as also had the Middlesex, and our company were ordered to go along the road as reinforcements. The one and a half mile seemed a thousand. Stormed at all the way, we kept on, and no one was hit until we came to a white house which stood in a clearing. Immediately the officer passed the gap hell was let loose on us, but we got across safely, and I was the only one wounded, and that was with a ricochet shrapnel bullet in the right knee.

I knew nothing about it until an hour after, when I had it pointed out to me. I dug it out with a knife. We passed dead civilians, some women, and a little boy with his thigh shattered by a bullet. Poor wee fellow. He lay all the time on his face, and some man of the Irish was looking after him, and trying to make him comfortable. The devils shelled the hospital and killed the wounded, despite a huge Red Cross flag flying over it.

When we got to the Royal Irish Regiment’s trenches the scene was terrible. They were having dinner when the Germans opened on them, and their dead and wounded were lying all around. Beyond a go at some German cavalry, the day drew in, and darkness saw us on the retreat. The regiment lost one officer and one man dead, one officer and some men severely wounded.

We kept up this sort of game (fighting by day and retiring by night) until we got to Cambrai, on Tuesday night. I dare not mention that place and close my eyes. God, it was awful. Avalanche followed avalanche of fresh German troops, but the boys stuck to it, and we managed to retire to Ham without any molestation. Cambrai was the biggest battle fought. Out of all the glorious regiment of 1,100 men only five officers and 170 of the men answered the roll-call next day. Thank God, I was one of them.

Of course, there may be a number who got separated from the battalion through various causes, and some wounded who escaped. I hope so because of the heavy hearts at home. I saw the South Lancs, and they were terribly cut up, only a remnant left of the regiment.

* * * * *Letter 42. – From Corporal W. Leonard, of the Army Service Corps (a South African War reservist) to his mother at Huddersfield:

I know that you will all excuse me for not receiving a letter from me this long time, but I hope that you will excuse me. Don’t, whatever you do at home, don’t worry about me. If I just thought that you won’t worry at home I shall be all right. You know, mother, I know more about war this time than I did last, and the conditions also. It’s all right when you know the ropes, and my African experiences are serving me in good stead here, so I hope and trust that you at home are not worrying about me; time enough to worry when there is cause. Well, I hope and trust all are well at home, as it is hell out here. Up to this affair I thought that the Germans were a civilised race of people, but they are nothing but savages; niggers would not do what they do. Just fancy mounting maxim guns on ambulance wagons bearing the Red Cross, cutting the right hand off prisoners and turning them loose afterwards minus a hand. By jingo, mother, the boys (our boys) are absolutely all in. We did give the Boers a chance now and again, but these devils we don’t give them a cat in hell chance; we’re playing the game to the finish. I would not care to write so much, as I had better tell you when I come home. The Boer War was a tame affair. We are moving off again to-night. I don’t know where, and we don’t care either; it’s a do to a finish this time. I hope you got my postcards from Rouen in France, as there was some doubt as to whether they would let them through or not. I will write home as opportunity occurs, and I hope you won’t worry about me, because you all know at home that I shall always be where I’m wanted, and my duty every time, so don’t worry. Tell anyone who enquires I am O.K., lost a bit of weight perhaps, but not the worse so far, and above all don’t believe all you see in the papers, as they know practically nothing, as everything is done under sealed orders, which never leak out. We are not even allowed to say in our letters where we are, as they are opened and read by the captain before they leave here, so you can judge for yourselves how things are. And I might say, mother, that we are very busy.

* * * * *Letter 43. – From Corporal Edward Hood, to his father, at Taunton:

The fighting lately has been hot all round, and the French have had much harder than us in some places, but they’re sticking at it manfully, and they deserve to win a victory that will wipe the Germans off the map. The French make a lot of us in camp, and when we pass each other in the field, no matter how busy the Frenchman may be, they give us hearty cheers to encourage us on our way. There’s plenty of friendly rivalry between us when there’s hard fighting to be done, and when we do get there before the French they don’t grudge us our luck. They’re good sports right through to the core, and the British soldier asks nothing better from allies in the field.

* * * * *Letter 44. – From Private William Burgess, of the Royal Field Artillery, to his parents at Ilfracombe:

We left our landing place for the front, on the Tuesday, and got there on Saturday night. The Germans had just reached Liège then, and we got into action on the Sunday morning. The first thing we did was to blow up a bridge to stop the Germans from crossing. Then we came into action behind a lot of houses attached to the main street. We were there about ten minutes, when the houses started to fall around us. The poor people were buried alive. I saw poor children getting knocked down by bursting shells.

The next move was to advance across where there was a Red Cross Hospital. They dropped shells from airships and fired on it until the place was burnt down to the ground. Then they got a big plan on to retire and let the French get behind them. We retired eight miles, but we had to fight until we were forced to move again. We got as far as Le Cateau on Tuesday night. We camped there until two o’clock next morning.

Then we all heard there was a big fight coming off, so we all got together and cleared the field for action… (The letter mentions the numbers of men engaged, and states that the Germans were in the proportion of three to one.) … We cut them down like rats. We could see them coming on us in heaps, and dropping like hail. The Colonel passed along the line, and said, “Stick it, boys.”

I tell you, mother, it was awful to see your own comrades dropping down – some getting their heads blown off, and others their legs and arms. I was fighting with my shirt off. A piece of shell went right through my shirt at the back and never touched me. It stuck into a bag of earth which we put between the wheels to stop bullets.

We were there all busy fighting when an airship came right over the line and dropped a bomb, which caused a terrible lot of smoke. Of course, that gave the Germans our range. Then the shells were dropping on us thick. We looked across the line and saw the German guns coming towards us. We turned our two centre guns on them, and sent them yards in the air. I reckon I saw one German go quite twenty yards in the air.

Just after that a shell burst right over our gun. That one got me out of action. I had to get off the field the best way I could. The bullets were going all around me on the way off; you see they got completely around us, I went about two miles, and met a Red Cross cart. I was taken to St. Quentin’s Hospital. We were shelled out of there about two in the morning, and then taken in a train, and taken down to a plain near Rouen.

Next morning we were put in a ship for dear old England.

* * * * *Letter 45. – From a Corporal in the King’s Royal Rifles, now at Woolwich Hospital:

I was in three engagements, Mons, Landrecies, and Cambrai, but the worst of all was Mons. It was on Sunday, the 23rd of August, and I shall never forget the date. They were easily twenty-five to one, and we eventually had to retreat with just over a thousand casualties, but heavens, they must have had a jolly sight more. At Landrecies, where we arrived at 7.30, we thought we were going to have a night’s rest, though we were wet through and no change, but we hadn’t been there long before they (the Germans) started firing; they seemed to be in every place we went to. The only thing we heard then was, “turn out at once.” It was about 10.15 when we turned out, and the Colonel’s orders were that we had to take a bridge if every man was killed. (I thought that sounded a wee bit healthy.) I had my last drink out of a dirty glass of beer. I says, “good health Billy,” and off we went with bayonets fixed.

On our way to the bridge we met the regiment who had tried and failed, bringing back its wounded and killed in scores. (I thought more encouragement for the corps.) I was carrying my pal, the rifle, with my right hand. Well, we got near the bridge and found out from our scouts that there were 10,000 German troops on each side of the bridge and we were 1,300 strong. (More encouragement.) So we lined a long hedge about two yards apart so as to make a long line and harder for them to hit. We lay here till daybreak just before 4 a.m., and we could hear them talking all night about 300 yards away. We could see them quite clearly by this time; so we started to fire and rolled them over by dozens. It wasn’t long, though, before the bullets were whizzing past my ears on each side, and I began to get my head lower and lower till I think I should have buried it in the mud if it had got much lower. Their superior numbers began to tell and we had to retire as fast as we could. I couldn’t go fast enough with my pack on (it weighs 84 lbs.), so I threw it away as did hundreds more, and I finished bridge-taking with my old pal only (the rifle).

* * * * *Letter 46. – From Lieutenant O. P. Edgcumbe, of 1st Battalion D.C.L.I., to his father, Sir Robert Edgcumbe, Commandant at Newquay:

29th August, 1914.

For the last week or ten days we have been fighting hard and are now for one day resting. Altogether, during five days and five nights, I got six hours’ sleep, and so am rather weary. However, bullets and a real enemy are a wonderful stimulant, and I feel as fit as anything. Do all of you write as often as possible, and send me some newspapers. It does not matter whether there is any news – the sight of a letter from home is very cheering.

All our men are somewhat fatigued, but are very keen and full of fight. My regiment has had a bad time, and I am dreadfully afraid that they have been badly cut up, although I can as yet get no details. They were caught in a village by Germans in the houses, who had managed to get there by wearing our uniforms. Never again shall I respect the Germans, or any of them I may meet. They have no code of honour, and there have been several cases of their wearing French and British uniforms, which is, of course, against the Geneva Convention.

The weather is good, for which we are thankful.

Everything is so peaceful now, and it is such a perfect day that were it not for the continuous growl of the guns, which never cease, one would hardly believe one was in the midst of a huge war.

* * * * *Letter 47. – From Private D. White:

German airships we seldom see now, though we used to have them every day over our heads. They are finding the French more than a match for them, and they most likely prefer to rely on their ordinary spies, of whom they have thousands. They are found often among the men engaged for transport work, but they are such clumsy bunglers that they give themselves away sooner or later. Some of us who haven’t the heart to drown a cat never turn a hair when we see these scum shot, for they richly deserve what they get and a soldier’s death is too good for them.

* * * * *Letter 48. – From Private Spain, of the 4th Guards Brigade (late police-constable at Newry):

We have had three engagements with the Germans since I arrived, and I came out quite unhurt. The two first were fought on Sunday and Monday following. You see I cannot give date or place. Secrecy is our motto re war and movement of troops for international purposes, etc. Our third engagement was nearly fatal. We arrived at the town of – , very much fatigued, and fully intending to have a good rest. It was a fine town, about as big as Newry, but more compact, with many fine buildings. We were just about five minutes billeted in the various houses, and just stretching our weary legs, when an officer came running in, shouting “The Germans are upon us; outside everyone.” We came out, magazine loaded, bayonets fixed, and eager to get a good bayonet fight with them. It appears they do not like it. But we found none. They had not yet arrived. It was 10 p.m. before they did so. In the meantime the poor people were leaving the town in crowds, with as much goods and chattels as they could carry away, and it was well for them, too. It was a dark night when we formed up in the streets, and the lamps but dimly burned. The noises of rifles and field guns were terrific. We rushed to the heads of the various streets, where our German foe would advance. Our Field Artillery and the Coldstream Guards went out to delay their advance whilst we stripped off our coats and commenced to tear up the square setts, gather carts – in fact, everything that would build a barricade to keep back our numerous German foe, and we did so under perfect showers of shrapnel shell that struck and fell around us, and struck the houses about us, but we were undaunted, and so succeeded. Firing ceased, and we advanced out towards the Coldstream Guards’ position. They had given them a good fight, but many of them lay for ever silent upon the ground. The Germans would not advance upon us, so we retired.

* * * * *Letter 49. – From Corporal Sam Moorhouse, of the King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry, to his wife at Birkby:

Our company were reserves, and came under fire about noon. We were in a ditch – as we thought safe – when “Ping! ping!” came the bullets, and off we shot across the open, under a railway embankment. On the way we passed four artillery horses shot dead with shrapnel. Then we took up a position on a hillside, when round the corner, 700 yards away, came a German maxim gun. They were busy getting it ready for firing on us, and we were firing at them, when our artillery – which was only half a mile away – sent two shots and blew up the gun and all the men. Then we cleared off and marched till twelve midnight. Up again at two and off for what was called a rest camp. Still wet clothes, and filthy; had no boots off for days. Instead of “rest” camp we marched nearly thirty miles, arriving at 8 p.m. Here I had a good meal of jam, cheese, and bread – first bite of bread for days.

Next day we were up before daylight and taking up position. We dug trenches, and were fired on before we had finished. We were at the back – a sort of last firing line. So we lay down in the trench, and waited. Shrapnel and lyddite were flying round us like hail, and our gunners were firing too. Such a noise! Just like thunder! Well, we stuck out as long as we could when we got the order to retire. However I came safely away goodness knows.

I picked up my gun and ran up the hill and dropped on one side of the road to rest. Then I had to get across the road, so got up and was half-way across when a shell burst and knocked me flat on my face. It must have fused at the wrong time, as I got only a cut on my thumb from a fragment. Then I got across and dropped in a trench where a fellow was lying dead. I stayed there only a minute, and then ran off over the hill and safe. The bullets were flying in all directions and shells were bursting four at a time. South Africa was nothing compared to this.

I had had no sleep for nights, so decided to go back to a little village we had just passed, where I sat on a doorstep till I fell asleep, and woke up one hour later wet through and chilled to the bone. It was still dark when I got back to where I left our regiment, and they were off. So I trekked away alone, and got on the wrong road.

About nine in the morning I came across some transport, and rode along with stragglers of other regiments to a camp. There were about sixty of us, and we went to a large camp, about 2,000 of us – all lost. There I came across Guy Jessop of Huddersfield, who was also lost, and was glad to meet a pal. We had a walk in the town together, and called in a café. We had some coffee and rum (Guy paid, as I had no money). I played the piano and sang “Mrs. Hullaby.” Lucky job they could not understand English, or they would have been shocked.

* * * * *Letter 50. – From Private E. W. Dyas, of the 11th Hussars, to his parents at Mountain Ash:

We landed at Havre, and travelled up country. We were under fire for about twenty minutes on the first day, and the shells were bursting like rain all around us. We got away with only one horse killed. It was marvellous. We are continually under fire by day and travelling by night. It is awful to hear the artillery booming death night and day. We were fighting day and night for three days. The slaughter was terrible. I took a dispatch across the battlefield when the Germans were retiring, and I passed their trenches. The dead were piled up in the trenches about ten deep, and there were trenches seven miles long. It was terrible to see. We are collecting the three cavalry brigades together at the present moment for a massive charge. I am writing this in the saddle. I may get through this again. One bullet penetrated my horse’s neck and another one went through the saddle. I have had a sword-thrust through my sleeve. So I am getting on well.

* * * * *Letter 51. – From Lieut. Oswald Anne, of the Royal Artillery, to his father, Major Anne, of Burghwallis Hall:

Dear Dad. – Just got yours of the 13th inst. Battling yesterday and the day before. I had a pal killed in another battery – five bullets in him. I have just seen the first Sausage-maker prisoner in hands of some infantry. They had the greatest difficulty in stopping the French populace from knifing him. The German shrapnel is very dangerous stuff, having high explosive in it. It bursts backwards, and so nullifies our frontal shield. No more time or news.

August 29th.

The boom of French guns is now in full swing, and we are standing easy for the moment. Did you get my other letter three days back? Just after I had finished it, we had the alarm, which proved false, but that night Germans marched into the town, thinking we had left it. So they say! A gruff German voice answered a challenge, and 15 rounds rapid fire from rifles and maxims behind the main road barricade, laid out every man. Eight hundred were picked up next morning in this one street.

An R.E. told me on the canal bridge a maxim fired 9,000 rounds and laid out another 1,000. The first Germans arriving in one end of this town were in French uniforms. Luckily, those in the rear were seen and fired on, stampeding the ammunition mules, scattering the “Sausages,” who were almost laid out in a few rounds of fire. Lots of “espions” here, male and female. I have hardly seen a German, except prisoners. Poor Soames, of the 20th Hussars, was sparrowed first fight. W. Silvertop (20th Hussars) is hard at it “biffing” Sausages, and a N.C.O., yesterday, who had lost the Regiment, told me 48 hours ago he was well.

“Cigs.” all arrived, and saved my life, also load of chocolate. Screaming women rush everywhere during conflicts howling “Trahie,” “Perdue,” “Sauve qui peut.” One of “D” battery, R.H.A., N.C.O., told us they had mowed “Sausage-makers” down for ten minutes in one action as hard as they could load and still they came in masses, till at last the shrieking men ran all ways, not knowing where, leaving heaps of semi-moving remnants on the ground.

Our crowd, having so far escaped untouched, are very lucky. Several Brigades have had the devil’s own hail of shot over them. Please send me some newspapers sometimes, as we have not seen one since I left, bar some old French Petit Parisiens.

The Scots Greys from York and the 12th Lancers did great work yesterday on hostile cavalry, and about wiped out those opposed to them. The “Guardies” are in great form. Very little sleep nowadays, up at dawn almost always, very often before that hour.

A German regiment, dressed in English uniforms, the other day billetted with an English regiment (at the other end of the town), and when the latter marched out they were about broken up by maxim fire from the bedroom windows. A German force arrived elsewhere, the Berkshire regiment were on guard, and the former, in French uniforms, called out from the wire entanglements that they waited to interview the C.O. A major went forward who spoke French, and was shot down immediately. This sort of thing is of daily occurrence, and only makes matters worse for the “Sausage-makers” when our infantry get into them.

* * * * *Letter 52. – From a reservist in the Royal Field Artillery (Published in the “Glasgow Herald”):

I got a nasty hit with a shell on the thick of the leg. The Germans caught us napping on Wednesday, and what slaughter! It was horrible to witness. The Germans came along the village, killing the poor women and children and burning all the houses. Our division could not hold out. We were expecting the French troops to meet us, but they were two days late. Our battery had a lucky escape of being cut up. We entrenched our guns to come into action next day, but somehow or other we cleared out, and had only gone ten minutes before the place was blown up.

The officer in charge of my section had his head blown off. I was carried off under heavy fire on a fellow’s back, and it is to him I owe my life. It was a long way to hospital, shells bursting all round us. We dropped behind some corn stacks, then on we went again. I had no sooner got bandaged up when a chap came galloping up and said the Germans were in sight. I was the second last man to leave the hospital, and ten minutes later it was blown up. You cannot imagine what things were like. The women and children of England can think themselves lucky, for the poor women here had to walk from village to village, young children in their arms. It touched my heart to see the sight. The Germans did not use rifles, but big guns, against our infantry’s rifles. They are most brutal, killing all wounded in a most horrible fashion.

* * * * *Letter 53. – Front Trooper S. Cargill:

The Germans let all hell loose on us in their mad attempt to crush us and so win their way to Paris. They didn’t succeed, and they won’t succeed. I saw one ghastly affair. A German cavalry division was pursuing our retiring infantry when we were let loose on them. When they saw us coming they turned and fled, at least all but one, who came rushing at us with his lance at the charge. I caught hold of his horse, which was half mad with terror, and my chum was going to run the rider through when he noticed the awful glaze in his eyes and we saw that the poor devil was dead.

* * * * *Letter 54. – Front an Irish soldier, to his sister in County Cork:

I am writing this on a leaf out of a field service pocket-book, as notepaper and envelopes are very scarce, and we are not allowed to send picture postcards of places as they give away where we are. Well, this is a lovely country. The climate suits me very well. Everything grows like mad here. It is rather like Ireland, only ten times as rich. All that I have seen yet – and that is a good lot – is far and away better than the best part of the county Limerick. I think it would be a pleasure to farm here.

At the present time I am billeted in a farmhouse. I sleep in their best bed-room – that is when I can go to bed at all – and they give me home-made cider, cognac, and coffee, apples, plums, etc., and lovely home-made cheese for nothing, though they need not supply any food, as the rations are served out by the regiment every day.

’Tis great fun trying to talk French to them and I am picking it up gradually. It is wonderful how words and sentences that I learned at school come back to me now, and I can generally make myself understood all right. It is an awful pity to see this beautiful country spoiled by war, and it is no wonder the people are so eager to fight for it. I don’t think there is a single house that has not sent out one or more men to fight with the French Army, and their mothers, sisters, wives, etc., are very proud of it. There are two gone out of this house.