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FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 WITH GENERAL FRENCH 
 
FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 WITH GENERAL FRENCH 
 
 A PERSONAL NARRATIVE 
 
 BY 
 
 FREDERIC COLEMAN 
 
 Attached to Sir John French's Headquarters during the retreat from. 
 Mons, and to the 2nd Cavalry Brigade Headquarters during the 
 advance across the Marne and Aisne, to the 1st Cavalry 
 Division Headquarters during the fighting on the 
 Lys, at Ploegsteert, Messines,, and Ypres, 
 and at the front in France and Flan- 
 ders until June; 1915 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 
 1916 
 
"33 5^+ 
 . C&S- 
 
 \o\\i,cu 
 
 Copyright, 1916, bit 
 DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY, INC. 
 
 4i£i 
 
 MAY -I 1916 
 
 'CI.A427908 
 
DEDICATED 
 
 In Affectionate Recollection and Unbounded Admiration 
 
 TO THE SPLENDID TrOOFBRS OF THE 
 
 SECOND CAVALRY BRIGADE 
 
 9th LANCERS 
 4th DRAGOON GUARDS 
 
 AND 
 
 18th HUSSARS 
 
 The World has seen no finer Soldiers in all its 
 Pageantry of Wars 
 
PREFACE 
 
 This Is a plain tale. 
 
 I am an American, and I have believed from the 
 commencement of the war that the Allies' cause was 
 just. 
 
 I am an admirer of brave soldiers, and willing to 
 pay tribute to good work, from a military standr 
 point, by men on either side. 
 
 For ten months I was with the British Expedi- 
 tionary Force in France and Flanders. 
 
 I am so greatly indebted to many units of the 
 British Army for the opportunity afforded' me. to 
 undergo experiences which form the subject matter 
 of this somewhat rambling narrative, that I must 
 make my acknowledgments, for the most part, col- 
 lectively. 
 
 At the hands of Sir John French's Headquarters 
 Staff I met unfailing kindness and courtesy through- 
 out my sojourn in their midst. 
 
 Of General Smith-Dorrien I can sincerely speak 
 as all speak who have met him, with profound rec- 
 ognition of his high attainments as a. military 
 leader, and of his great heart. Truly, a kinder 
 man I have never met. 
 
 During the months I spent with the British Cav- 
 alry I felt an ever-Increasing pride to have been at- 
 tached to that branch of the Service. The officers 
 and men of the 2nd Cavalry Brigade could not have 
 been more friendly had I been of their own num- 
 ber. 
 
viii PREFACE 
 
 My work with the ist Cavalry Division brought 
 me into somewhat less personal touch with the in- 
 dividual units, but I was most cordially treated on 
 all sides. 
 
 To General Allenby and his Staff I have ever 
 been grateful for the cheery welcome that made 
 tired hours invariably brighten when I had the 
 good fortune to come into touch with that efficient 
 and energetic coterie. 
 
 The 2nd Cavalry Brigade Headquarters Mess, 
 and later the ist Cavalry Division Headquarters 
 Mess, of which I was a member for so long a time, 
 contained good fellows to a man. Among them I 
 formed friendships which are the most cherished of 
 of all my priceless mementos of the most wonderful 
 year of my life. 
 
 It is, however, to General de Lisle, personally, 
 that I am under the deepest obligation. I have 
 been brought, at one time or another, into close con- 
 tact with the Field Forces in time of war of half 
 a score of nations. Among them I have never 
 met an army officer more keen upon his work than 
 is General de Lisle. My personal affection for him, 
 my admiration of him, and my sincere good wishes 
 run hand in hand. 
 
 To Julian W. Orde and his efforts the Royal 
 Automobile Club Corps owed its existence. To 
 him I owe a great personal debt. No matter what 
 the issue or how difficult of access that which was 
 required, Julian Orde never failed a member of the 
 R.A.C. Contingent — that hurriedly organised little 
 band of whom Sydney Green (with General 
 Hubert Gough from the beginning of the cam- 
 paign) is the sole remaining active member. 
 
PREFACE ix 
 
 Friends galore have given me those invaluable 
 suggestions and opportunities whereby one gains a 
 close insight into affairs, and oftentimes a pictorial 
 record of them. 
 
 To none do I tender more sincere acknowledg- 
 ment in that connection than to my old friend 
 Percy Northey, a sometime member of the R.A.C. 
 Corps. 
 
 Many gallant gentlemen mentioned in the fol- 
 lowing pages have gone on before, but, thank God! 
 many have " come through." 
 
 Friends and readers, do not forget that most 
 Americans feel much the same as I feel about the 
 war. 
 
 An overwhelming majority of those of my coun- 
 trymen who know the truth would do what lies in 
 their power to further the success of the Allies and 
 their righteous cause. 
 
 Frederick Coleman. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 THE RETREAT BEGUN 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Arrival in France — Le Cateau and Sir John French's Head- 
 quarters — The retreat begun — A hospital in Landrecies 
 — The cavalry fight at Audregnies — Sordet's cavalry — 
 — A narrow escape in Haussy — In the midst of the re- 
 tiring army — Refugees — German prisoners — Le Cateau 
 on the morning of the great battle — General Smith- 
 Dorrien at Bertry — The night fight in Landrecies — A lost 
 supply train — Back to Noyon ...... 1-24 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 " PROPER REARGUARDS " 
 
 A proposed dash for news of Smith-Dorrien — The battle of 
 Cambrai-Le Cateau — The retreating 2nd Corps passing 
 through St. Quentin — The wounded — An irrepressible 
 Irishman — Samples of " downhearted " Tommies — 
 " Proper rearguards " — How the British soldier saved 
 himself on the retreat — Smith-Dorrien's smile — A chat 
 with the General — Sordet's aide-de-camp — What Sordet 
 did — Directing stragglers — A call on Sir Douglas Haig 
 — The second day of the retreat — De Lisle and the battle 
 of Guiscard — Tom Bridges at St. Quentin - . . 25-56 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 INTO THE GERMAN LINES 
 
 Into the German lines and out again — Jimmy Rothschild 
 loses his car — A hard day's work — A visit to Paris — 
 A run towards Villers Cotteret — Vagaries of the Censor 
 — O'Mahoney's capture and escape — The battle of 
 Nery — The scamper from Dammartin .... 57-83 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 END OF THE GREAT RETREAT 
 
 An interesting day in Lagny — Back to Melun — Attached 
 to General de Lisle and his 2nd Cavalry Brigade — 
 
xii CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The end of the great retreat — The commencement of 
 the Battle of the Marne — Cavalry versus cavalry — 
 The charge of the 9th Lancers at Montcel . . . 84-99 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE WINNING OF THE MARNE 
 
 A beautiful morning at La Ferte Gaucher — Across the 
 Grand Morin — Through Rebais — La Tretoire — The 4th 
 Dragoon Guards and Black Watch at Sablonieres — 
 With Briggs' brigade to Nogent— The winning of the 
 Marne — The battle of Priez — A carload of wounded 
 under shell-fire — Over the Vesle at Braisne . . 100-122 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 WINE FROM A MOUNTAIN CAVE 
 
 Across the Aisne — The taking of Bourg — Under fire at 
 close range — Nearly caught by shells — " Rivy " Gren- 
 fell's death — The struggle for the Chemin des Dames 
 — Hard fighting — Wine from a mountain cave — A night 
 at Soupir . 123-139 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 CAVALRY IN THE TRENCHES 
 
 The " Cheer-Up Journal " — On the Chavonne Ridge — 
 " Black Marias " — The wounded — Close practice — 
 Running under howitzer shells — The cavalry in the 
 trenches — Catching a Hun spy — The enemy bombard a 
 British " helio " — Shells in the Chavonne Wood — 
 Watching shrapnel from the trenches .... 140-152 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 DIARY UNDER HOWITZER-FIRE 
 
 Paissy — Terrific bombardment — Hours of constant shell- 
 fire — The Algerians — Tom Bridges and the 4th D.G.'s 
 win back a lost position — A thrilling charge — the new 
 warfare — A diary under howitzer-fire — A peculiar tele- 
 scopic phenomenon — Germans in British uniforms — A 
 perilous search for a road — Running the gauntlet — 
 The Sugar Mill trenches above Troyon — Paissy 
 again . 153-171 
 
CONTENTS xiii 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 A GERMAN ATTACK 
 
 PAGE 
 
 A German attack — A " nervous " prisoner — A plucky 
 German spy in a haystack — Steele's narrow escape — 
 A tour of the front line — Death in the billets — A visit 
 to Rheims — A story of the Crown Prince — The Conde 
 position — The departure from the Aisne and the start 
 for Flanders 172-182 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 NIGHT MARCHES 
 
 Night marches — Keeping out of sight of enemy airmen — 
 Effusions from a Headquarters' " Editor " — Billeting 
 troubles and humours — Through the fertile and hos- 
 pitable French provinces — In front of Montdidier — On 
 the edge of Arras — Tales of the Arras fighting — Into 
 the line again — The skirmishing in the Bois de Nieppe 
 — From Brigade to Division 183-192 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 FALL OF ANTWERP 
 
 The beginning of the campaign in Flanders — The fall of 
 Antwerp — Budworth's heroic gunners at Strazeele — 
 The battle of Meteren — We meet Rawlinson's army — 
 Exciting cavalry patrol work — German spies — The 
 wrong sort of " Hun " in a cottage — Ploegsteert and 
 the attempted forcing of the Lys — Shortage of ammuni- 
 tion — Gough at Messines — Shelled in the tower of the 
 Ploegsteert Chateau — Fine work by our gunners — 
 Driven from Ploegsteert Chateau by German gun-fire 
 — Hard fighting at St. Ives — To Messines . . . 193-2 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 A VISIT TO YPRES 
 
 bloody October drawing to a close — Arrival of the In- 
 dian troops — Shells in Messines — The fight for the road 
 to Calais begun — A visit to Yyres — Fired on by an 
 Indian patrol — A prospective attack in force — Seventy- 
 two hours of continuous battle at Messines — Narrow 
 escapes — The fire-spared crucifix in the Messines Church 
 The 47th Sikhs at Neuve Chapelle — Achieving the im- 
 
xiv CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 possible at Ypres — Messines heavily attacked — A gal- 
 lant stand by the 9th Lancers — An heroic corporal 
 and his machine gun — In the midst of the conflict — 
 A shell smashed headquarters — My car hit — British and 
 German counter tributes — The struggle to hold Messines 
 — The London Scottish — In the path of the bullets — The 
 Messines ridge lost and Messines evacuated . . 216-353 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 A FRENCH ATTACK 
 
 In front of Wulverghem — Trenches blown in by Black 
 Marias — A French attack — Hill 75 — The Blues and 
 Life Guards suffer heavily — Shelled in Wulverghem — 
 Striving to reach Messines again — Fine work by Law- 
 ford and his 22nd Brigade — Exciting experience under 
 shrapnel bullets — Struck by a piece of shell ' in 
 Wulverghem 253-275 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE BATTLE IN THE SALIENT 
 
 The attack of the Prussian Guard — St. Omer and G.H.Q. 
 for a night — Up to Ypres again — Traffic troubles — 
 The battle in the famous salient — Haig's magnificent 
 remnants — Brave Germans — Fine work by the Nor- 
 thumberland Fusiliers — A tangle in the dark — Snipers — 
 The end of the first battle of Ypres .... 276-286 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE "CHRISTMAS TRUCE 
 
 Lord Roberts's funeral in France — Bombs from an aero- 
 plane hit a hospital — Into the KemmeJ trenches^ — 
 " Changing over " at night — Deadly shells in La Clytte 
 — A modest airman — Official optimism — Inspected by the 
 King — A yarn about Von Tirpitz's son — In the Ploeg- 
 steert Wood — A yeoman's imagination — The Indian 
 Corps at Givenchy — The Christmas truce in the 
 trenches — The end of 1914 . . . *, 287-303, 
 
 APPENDIX 
 
 Liutenant A. Gallaher's Adventure at Audregnies . . . 304 
 
FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 WITH GENERAL FRENCH 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 THE RETREAT BEGUN 
 
 On a pleasant August evening in 19 14 I embarked 
 on a troopship at Southampton. I was one of 
 twenty-five members of the Royal Automobile Club 
 who had each volunteered to take his motor-car and 
 proceed at once to the General Headquarters of Sir 
 John French's Army. That Army, the original Brit- 
 ish Expeditionary Force, was in France or Belgium, 
 we knew not exactly where. It was generally antici- 
 pated by all and sundry that, if not actually fighting 
 on that Friday evening, August 21st, it would soon 
 be engaged with the Germans advancing towards 
 France through poor Belguim. 
 
 The day before, Brussels had fallen. At the time 
 I left Southampton the British 1st Corps and 2nd 
 Corps, with a Cavalry Division, were in Belgium 
 entrenching a position from Conde east to Mons 
 and on to the eastward as far as Binche, on the road 
 to Charleroi. 
 
 The twenty-five volunteer motorists who composed 
 our party had been sent officially from London by 
 the War Office to drive officers of the General Head- 
 quarters Staff at the Front. Our troopship arrived 
 in Havre at an early hour on Saturday, the 22nd, 
 but owing to lack of facilities for disembarkation of 
 the cars night had closed in before the little band 
 was ashore and ready to proceed across the North 
 
2 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 of France to the Belgian Line. Sunday morning the 
 twenty-five cars were en route for Amiens. Three 
 of the party ran ahead with General T. D'O. Snow, 
 commanding the 4th Division, and his staff, and the 
 remainder lunched at Neufchatel, and reached 
 Amiens at tea-time. Here the majority of the party 
 remained, to be assigned on the morrow to various 
 duties. Six of us pushed on that night to Le Cateau. 
 Arriving after dark, we found that Sir John French's 
 Headquarters were in a chateau near the town, and 
 G.H.Q., as General Headquarters proper was 
 termed, was located in a large school in the centre of 
 the town. The drive had been long and dusty. After 
 a late and meagre dinner at the Hotel du Nord, a 
 hostel of modest pretensions, we spread our blankets 
 underneath the trees of the schoolyard and were soon 
 wrapped in sound slumber. 
 
 That Saturday and Sunday had seen part of the 
 German invading army under Von Buelow take 
 Charleroi from the French 5th Army and win the 
 crossing of the Sambre. The Sunday had seen the 
 first clash between the German and British armies. 
 By the middle of the day the first great German at- 
 tack against the British force had developed, and 
 Von Kluck, with his German 1st Army, was outnum- 
 bering and, at one or two points, beating back the 
 British troops before night had fallen. On Sunday 
 night Sir John French had learned that the retire- 
 ment of the French 5 th Army on his right had ren- 
 dered the Mons line untenable, and orders had al- 
 ready been given to fall back. 
 
 The great retreat had begun. 
 
 I awoke at daybreak on Monday, the 24th, to the 
 sound of the guns. Drummond's 19th Infantry Bri- 
 
THE RETREAT BEGUN 3 
 
 gade had disentrained at Valenciennes the night be- 
 fore. A new line from Jenlain, a few miles from 
 Valenciennes, eastward through Bavai to Maubeuge 
 was to be our new front, and we were retiring under 
 cover of an attack by our 1st Corps. 
 
 I was asked to take two medical officers and two 
 male nurses from Le Cateau to Landrecies. British 
 wounded were being hourly brought into the town, 
 where French wounded had arrived in some num- 
 bers already. At the door of one of the improvised 
 hospitals, formerly a school, I had a chat with a 
 wounded gunner. He was a corporal in one of the 
 batteries attached to Haig's 1st Corps and had a 
 shell sliver through his right knee, another through 
 his arm, and a flesh wound in his hand. He had 
 little idea where he had been except that the fight- 
 ing had been in Belgium. Four of our batteries of 
 field-guns had been placed near each other on a hill, 
 and the men told that the position was to be held 
 at all costs. The German infantry and some of 
 their cavalry had come within range and been badly 
 cut up until the German guns got the range of our 
 batteries. " Their shells burst well up in the air," 
 he said, " throwing out dense clouds of smoke in 
 three colours. The fumes of the shells were over- 
 powering and bullets the size of marbles rained all 
 about. Two of our lot were killed and thirty 
 wounded while we were serving the guns. Finally, 
 we had to leave the position, taking away our 
 wounded. We had to abandon the guns, as the 
 enemy's fire was too fierce to allow of our removing 
 them." 
 
 High explosive shell made him and his fellows 
 " go hot all over " when struck. These pieces of 
 
4 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 shell burnt him when they struck him, he said, a 
 quick burning pain following the contact with the 
 hot bits of projectile. 
 
 In the afternoon I ran from Le Cateau to Inchy, 
 on the Cambrai road, to pick up General J. A. L. 
 Haldane, who was in command of the ioth Bri- 
 gade. While waiting in a lane by the road I spent 
 an interesting hour watching a Battalion of Dublin 
 Fusiliers, a part of the newly-arrived 4th Division, 
 which had that day disentrained at Le Cateau, 
 break camp in the adjacent field. Their eagerness 
 to engage the enemy and their thirst for informa- 
 tion were both great. The tension was high, for 
 the significance of the French retirement on the 
 right of the British Force was sinking in. I en- 
 countered a number of English officers from time to 
 time who openly reviled a retirement the strategical 
 needs of which had not been explained to them, the 
 plain necessity of it not as yet having become ap- 
 parent. 
 
 I was back and forth between Inchy and Le 
 Cateau several times during the afternoon. Gen- 
 eral Henry H. Wilson used my car to drive slowly 
 and carefully over the road in order to reconnoitre 
 the surrounding country. He explained to me his 
 dislike of the best available ground in that vicinity 
 as a defensive position. 
 
 During the afternoon stories of the day's fight- 
 ing had begun to come into Headquarters. Le 
 Cateau had seen but few wounded men until that 
 Monday evening. In spite of the exaggeration 
 which accompanied the tales of casuality from the 
 Mons and Conde fighting, I gathered that Haig's 
 Corps had effected a successful retirement and 
 
THE RETREAT BEGUN 5 
 
 reached the protection of the guns of Maubeuge 
 on the right, whilst Smith-Dorrien's 2nd Corps had 
 retired cleverly during the afternoon and reached 
 the vicinity of Jenlain. The retirement as a whole, 
 therefore, difficult as it was, had been carried out 
 admirably. A jumble of reports poured in regard- 
 ing an action at Audregnies, where rumour per- 
 sisted that the 2nd Cavalry Brigade under General 
 de Lisle had been well-nigh wiped out. One dust- 
 covered subaltern told me that the Brigade was go- 
 ing out of the village in column of sections when 
 it was attacked by German infantry, with the result 
 that but 240 men out of the original 1,500 re- 
 mained. Ninety of the 9th Lancers, eighty of the 
 4th Dragoon Guards, and seventy of the 18th Hus- 
 sars were, he said, all that was left of the command. 
 Close on the heels of this first report was a more in- 
 telligible and infinitely more reliable one, brought 
 in by Captain Francis Grenfell, of the 9th Lancers, 
 who had been shot twice through the leg. He told 
 me that the cavalry had charged a German infantry 
 division well supplied with machine-guns, and never 
 reached a point closer than 800 yards to them. 
 Grenfell and some of his Lancers had that day 
 saved the guns of the 119th Battery of R.F.A., for 
 which he was subsequently awarded the V.C. 
 
 I spent several hours gathering a coherent story 
 of that fight at Audregnies, which had covered the 
 retirement of Sir Charles Fergusson's 5th Division 
 as he was falling back not far south of the canal 
 line between Conde and Mons. The Germans were 
 working round the 5th Division left. Unless they 
 were checked it appeared to Fergusson that his 
 force would be cut off. General Allenby with his 
 
6 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 Cavalry Division was on the left rear of the 5th 
 Division. When Allenby received word of Fergus- 
 son's danger the 2nd Cavalry Brigade was in and 
 near the little village of Audregnies. The German 
 infantry could be seen coming south in considerable 
 numbers and heading straight for the town. A 
 couple of squadrons of the 18th Hussars were a bit 
 north of Audregnies and to the east of it under the 
 shelter of a railway bank. The 9th Lancers and 
 4th Dragoon Guards were in and back of the vil- 
 lage proper. Away on the left, to the west of 
 Audregnies, was the 1st Cavalry Brigade, the nth 
 Hussars occupying a walled farm practically due 
 west of the village, and the Queen's Bays in sup- 
 port a bit to the south. Still further west, in 
 Baisieux and in front of it, was General Hubert 
 Gough's 3rd Cavalry Brigade, which had to deal 
 with another German infantry column coming down 
 from the north. 
 
 Thus the 2nd, 1st, and 3rd Cavalry Brigades 
 were facing the German advance, which was in two 
 distinct sections. The Germans appeared to be in 
 such numbers in front of Audregnies that de Lisle 
 gave orders to Colonel David Campbell, command- 
 ing the 9th Lancers, to hold the Germans at all costs 
 and to charge if necessary. One of our batteries 
 was not far from the village, and the noise made 
 by the German shells searching for it, and by our 
 guns firing a reply, was incessant. 
 
 By some slight misunderstanding of the verbal 
 order given by de Lisle, Colonel Campbell took it 
 that he was to charge the enemy at once. The 
 9th Lancers pushed on through the village and gal- 
 loped down a lane which converged into an open 
 
THE RETREAT BEGUN 7 
 
 field in plain sight of the enemy. When the 9th 
 Lancers had passed through the lane as fast as they 
 could get through it, for it was narrow, tortuous, 
 and thick with dust, they had not far to ride across 
 the field when they were confronted with a stout 
 wire fence. The 4th Dragoon Guards were coming 
 on after them. The enemy's shell fire was at once 
 directed at the approaching horsemen. The Ger- 
 man infantry opened with machine gun and rifle fire 
 at points variously estimated at from 500 to 800 
 yards distant. There was no getting across the 
 wire. The only thing left to be done was to wheel 
 to the right and gallop for safety to the eastward 
 across the German infantry front, thus affording 
 the enemy such a target as infantry rarely obtains. 
 Swinging around to the right past a sugar mill, 
 then out from the momentary protection of its ad- 
 jacent piles of slack and cinders, they kept on to 
 the eastward, then turned south, some seeking the 
 cover of the railway embankment, others making 
 for a cemetery which lay to the east of Audregnies, 
 or scattering to the high ground to the south. Cap- 
 tain Francis Grenfell, who had been wounded, 
 found himself under the railway bank with what he 
 was convinced was the sole surviving remnant of 
 the 9th Lancers. In fact, it was not until next 
 morning that it was realised how many had escaped. 
 The 9th Lancers lost in killed, wounded, and miss- 
 ing about seventy-five all told. The 4th Dragoon 
 Guards' casualty list included two officers and fifty- 
 four men. 
 
 The great value of the Audregnies charge was 
 that it accomplished the object in view. It stopped 
 the advance of the German infantry and allowed 
 
8 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 the 5th Division opportunity to retire southward. 
 The German line did not make a further move for- 
 ward from that position for at least four or five 
 hours after the charge. The troopers themselves, 
 as more than one of them told me, " could not see 
 what we were charging either going or coming." 
 The field across which they had to gallop was so 
 plastered by all sorts of fire that to do more than 
 simply gallop and keep clear of fallen and falling 
 comrades was all that the men could do. De Lisle 
 issued a special Brigade Order at Le Plessis on 
 August 28th, which read as follows: — 
 
 " I wish to express to the 2nd Cavalry Brigade 
 my extreme pride and satisfaction with their con- 
 duct in the severe engagement at Audregnies on 
 Monday, August 24th. The fight was necessary to 
 save the 5th Division from an organised counter-at- 
 tack during their retirement, and the object was 
 achieved by the steady and gallant conduct of the 
 Brigade. Major-General Sir Charles Fergusson, 
 commanding the 5th Division, thanked me person- 
 ally for saving his Division, adding that but for the 
 Cavalry Brigade his Division would have been de- 
 stroyed to the last man. I especially wish to com- 
 mend the true cavalry spirit of the 9th Lancers in 
 daring to charge unbroken infantry in order to save 
 neighbouring troops, and that of the 4th Dragoon 
 Guards in the effective support given without hesi- 
 tation or thought of danger. I intend to bring to 
 the notice of high authority how greatly I value the 
 devotion of my Brigade. This to be read to all 
 units on parade to-morrow." 
 
THE RETREAT BEGUN 9 
 
 I was first shown this order by one of the troop- 
 ers of the 9th Lancers who had been with Captain 
 Grenfell in the charge. He had become possessed 
 of one of the original copies of the order, and 
 proudly showed it to me as a souvenir of the event. 
 " It was hell, that charge," he said with a grin, 
 " but I suppose it had to be done. Anyway, to 
 read over that order made it seem to have been 
 worth while." 
 
 I slept in my car on Monday night, and before 
 dawn on Tuesday, the 25th, was aroused from 
 pleasant dreams by a sharp request to get under 
 way. The driver who left his car opposite the door 
 of G.H.Q. and slumbered in his seat was apparently 
 considered fair game for early risers. Before I 
 was thoroughly awake I was tearing off to the 
 north-east along the Roman road that led to Bavai. 
 The Forest of Mormal looked cool and refreshing 
 in the early light as we spun past it along the dusty 
 road. I was told that General Smith-Dorrien's 
 2nd Corps, the 4th Division, and the 19th Brigade 
 were to retire on Le Cateau, and General Haig's 
 1st Corps was to move south on the eastern side 
 of the Forest of Mormal to a position about 
 Landrecies and Maroilles. As we neared Bavai 
 troops were already on the road. After delivering 
 a message we turned and were soon back in Le 
 Cateau. 
 
 Following the example of a couple of Tommies 
 in the stableyard of the school, I negotiated a bath 
 under a water-tap and treated myself to a shave. 
 I then departed in search of breakfast. I found 
 the Hotels du Mouton Blanc and de France com- 
 pletely sold out of food, and in but little better case 
 
io FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 for drinkables. A glass of coffee and a bottle of 
 beer were all I could forage for breakfast. The 
 Royal Automobile Club drivers had arrived in the 
 thick of things and been put so continuously to 
 work that no one, they least of all, had thought of 
 how they were to be rationed. Events of such 
 great import were crowding so fast on one another 
 that so trivial a matter as breakfast or dinner was 
 not to be worried about. 
 
 The lady of the house wherein I had been 
 billeted volunteered to wash some clothing for me. 
 I accordingly left a goodly proportion of my ward- 
 robe in her charge, where, so far as I know, it may 
 be still. By eight o'clock all was bustle and move- 
 ment. I drove General Henry Wilson to Sir John 
 French's Headquarters and sat for a time listening 
 to the German guns. British loses of the day be- 
 fore were reported to have been heavy — heavier 
 than, later, they really proved to be. A staff offi- 
 cer told me that the Worcester regiment had been 
 practically wiped out. A feeling of pessimism was 
 creeping over us and becoming universal. Even 
 General Wilson, imperturbable and invariably of 
 good cheer, said to me, " We are not doing any too 
 well! " General officers, of whom there seemed to 
 be an unusual number about, all wore a worried look 
 on their faces. 
 
 The early morning was hot, and the sun's fierce 
 glare promised a scorching day. The British 
 troops, tired, had far to go, with no chance to ob- 
 tain needed rest before their start. There was a 
 general lack of understanding as to why we should 
 be leaving the line Jenlain-Bavai-Maubeuge. Few 
 of us were cognisant of any details of the situation. 
 
THE RETREAT BEGUN n 
 
 The inhabitants of Le Cateau were very badly wor- 
 ried. Stories became circulated throughout the 
 countryside to the effect that the British had suf- 
 fered a crushing defeat and were being driven in 
 full flight before a remorseless enemy. Tales of 
 Uhlan atrocities were to be heard on every side. 
 The French folk had seen the British Army march- 
 ing northward in the full pride of its strength, and 
 had wrapped themselves in quiet satisfaction, con- 
 fident that their Allies from Albion would save 
 them from the horrors of invasion. The British 
 retirement came to them at first as an unbelievable 
 thing. Before midday on that Tuesday, driven by 
 mad rumours of any and all sorts, the whole com- 
 munity was in full flight to the southward. 
 
 Between eight and nine o'clock Le Cateau was 
 treated to the sight of long lines of Sordet's French 
 Cavalry, 14,000 of whom were moving from our 
 right to our left rear. I was not very favourably 
 impressed by their appearance, although I heard 
 that in the earliest part of the campaign they had 
 used their sinister-looking black lances to good ef- 
 fect. From their yellow helmets and blue tunics to 
 their red breeches they appeared more campaign 
 soiled than one would have thought likely at so 
 early a stage of the proceedings. 
 
 The Duke of Westminister drove up in his big 
 car, and we chatted for a few moments. Interest- 
 ing tales of a car-load of Germans shot to bits and 
 a German aeroplane brought down at Dinant 
 helped to pass a cheerful few minutes. As we stood 
 in the headquarters yard young Robert Rothschild 
 strolled up in the uniform of a French Staff officer. 
 Colonel Seely, ex-Minister of War, wandered 
 
12' FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 about, apparently waiting for someone, and look- 
 ing lonesome. 
 
 Before ten o'clock I had a run to the village of 
 Croix, on the Bavai road, with Lieutenant-Colonel 
 Lord Loch of the Grenadier Guards, who was at- 
 tached to Sir John French's Staff. Running along 
 the roads in that part of the world was getting to 
 be quite a business at this time. French cavalry, 
 British cavalry, British infantry, and no end of sup- 
 ply columns monopolised every square inch of the 
 roadway. French lines of vedettes crossing the 
 hills stretched away to right and left. A German 
 aeroplane sailed by us and over Le Cateau, and then 
 sailed back again. Rifle fire from the Tommies 
 rose and fell in waves of sound as the graceful 
 monoplane soared high out of range in the clear 
 sunshine. 
 
 Seeker, one of my R.A.C. comrades, came into 
 Le Cateau from Haussy, a village north of 
 Solesmes, with the report that the Germans were 
 there. At six o'clock in the morning he arrived in 
 Haussy from Jenlain. He had been told to await 
 one of the transport trains of the 19th Brigade. 
 He found the market-place full of people who were 
 preparing to leave the town. The Germans were 
 reported to be four kilometres distant. A bit later 
 someone came in with the report that the Uhlans 
 were only two kilometres away. Finally the post- 
 mistress came to him and informed him that she 
 had received telegraphic instructions to close her 
 office and take her departure. Seeker was inclined 
 to disbelieve the reports as to the proximity of the 
 Germans. 
 
 Entering an estaminet, he ordered a cup of coffee. 
 
THE RETREAT BEGUN 13 
 
 The good woman of the house provided him with 
 the coffee quickly, and then disappeared. A 
 strange stillness seemed to settle on the village. 
 Rising, he strolled to the door. No one was in 
 sight. The town had been absolutely evacuated. 
 Seeker confessed to feeling a peculiar nervousness 
 on finding himself the sole occupant of the village, 
 and decided to take his car to the top of the hill 
 which led away to the southward. Mounting the 
 hill, he brought the car to rest at the top of it and 
 dismounted. As he did so he described a troop of 
 Uhlans riding into the town from the other side. 
 He jumped into his car and tore away for Solesmes, 
 leaving the transport train of the 19th Brigade to 
 whatever fate may have overtaken it. 
 
 Before noontide I took Lord Loch eastward 
 from Le Cateau to Reumont, the headquarters of 
 Sir Charles Fergusson's 5th Division. The evi- 
 dence of my eyes discredited the stories in which 
 the 5th Division troops had been described to me 
 as badly hammered. The infantry seemed in good 
 shape, except for tired feet, and the artillery, horses 
 and men, in fine fettle. Scars of battle were here 
 and there apparent. Now a wounded officer would 
 pass mounted, and now and again I saw a bandaged 
 Tommy in the line. Battalions, regiments, and 
 Brigades streamed by, interspersed with lorries 
 loaded with ammunition. Long trains of motor- 
 wagons full of provisions, sacks of flour, meal, and 
 potatoes, boxes of biscuit, half beeves, bales of 
 horse fodder — the food of the Army, horse and 
 man. As I sat by the roadside one Battalion turned 
 into a wheat field on the right of the road and 
 another Battalion into an adjoining field on the left. 
 
14 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 The boys pulled down the shocks of wheat and 
 made beds of the bundles. The sky had become 
 mercifully clouded, though the day was hot and the 
 countryside dry and dusty. Water was at a pre- 
 mium. I soon found that distributing a swallow of 
 water here and there from my canteen met with 
 great appreciation. At the further side of the field, 
 soon spread thick with khaki-clad figures was a 
 farmer busy harvesting his shocks of grain on a cou- 
 ple of wagons. Just after noon we heard a very 
 heavy cannonade towards Cambrai. A report reached 
 Divisional Headquarters that the Germans had 
 rushed the French in Cambrai and taken the town. 
 
 Many refugees mingled with the columns of troops 
 along the road. A cartload made up of two or 
 three families from Maubeuge told us frightened 
 tales of German atrocities. Touring cars loaded 
 with French staff officers tooted madly in an en- 
 deavour to pass the lines of big wagons on the nar- 
 row road. Family wagonettes filled with well- 
 dressed people were in the line. Now and then a 
 lady of well-to-do appearance passed, walking be- 
 hind a carriage loaded with goods and chattels. At 
 one point the road was blocked with a lorry con- 
 taining printing stores, with all the presses and 
 other accessories of a headquarters staff office. 
 More refugees, and then more Tommies trudging 
 along, dusty and begrimed, but all cheerful and 
 strong; hot and tired, but with very few stragglers 
 in evidence. 
 
 I began to notice a striking difference between 
 British cavalry at the halt and their French com- 
 rades. The English troopers always dismounted, 
 and were more likely than not busy attending to 
 
THE RETREAT BEGUN 15 
 
 some wants of their cattle. To see a French cav- 
 alryman dismounted, no matter for how long a 
 time he might be halted, was indeed rare. French 
 horses showed the strain, and in contrast the Brit- 
 ish horses looked in the best possible condition. 
 Thus for an hour or so we slowly pushed our way 
 here and there along the country roads, their fields 
 fair with shocks of standing grain waiting for the 
 harvest. We were doomed to spend the day in the 
 middle of lines upon lines of troops with equally 
 long lines of refugees filing by, and the air ever full 
 of dust. Ox carts, horse carts, and a donkey cart 
 with six little children in it, crawled along, then a 
 tired mother with her three-year-old girlie on her 
 back, some refugees with bundles, more without, all 
 the men elderly or very young, but women of all 
 ages and children in droves — a never-to-be-for- 
 gotten sight. Wonder, despair, patience, pain, 
 apathy — the drifting faces made a heart-breaking 
 picture. Now and then, but rarely, some French 
 refugees would pass in a private motor-car, usually 
 of ancient type. The number of mothers carrying 
 babies through the dust and heat seemed out of all 
 reasonable proportion to the rest. 
 
 When we returned to Le Cateau at two o'clock 
 we found that G.H.Q. had moved back to St. 
 Quentin. I requisitioned a half loaf of bread and 
 a tin of bully beef from a passing supply lorry and 
 made a splendid luncheon. A brain wave resulted 
 in application at the chemist's shop for bottled 
 waters. Half a dozen of Vichy were produced and 
 at once stowed away in the car for future use, as 
 water was precious. Aeroplanes sailed overhead 
 and refugees drifted southwards until neither at- 
 
1 6 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 tracted further attention. Westminster told me 
 that our soldiers brought down one of the German 
 aeroplanes that were reconnoitring, its petrol tank 
 punctured by a rifle bullet. The pilot and observer 
 were shot as the machine began to descend. 
 
 A report was prevalent that the Russians had 
 had a success, and the good news was eagerly 
 seized upon and passed from lip to lip. 
 
 In mid-afternoon I ran to Bertry, General Smith- 
 Dorrien's headquarters, with Lord Loch. Women, 
 children and girls, the only inhabitants remaining, 
 were in the streets in force and greatly excited. A 
 Battalion of Jocks had come into the town, and 
 every native was vastly interested and amused by 
 the brawny kilt-clad men from the North. The 
 local baker disposed of his stock of huge round cir- 
 cles of bread in as short a time as it took for him 
 to exchange it for the modest sum it brought him. 
 Pretty girls at the roadside with tempting pitchers 
 of beer were catering for the wants of the soldiers. 
 We came round a corner upon a W. and G. taxi, 
 which brought a smile and a fleeting thought of the 
 contrast between its former service and its present 
 occupation. The 2nd Army Corps was well in 
 place by evening. Some of the Brigades were in 
 the towns, some in camp in the fields, the rest going 
 into position along the roads as fast as they arrived. 
 The first Battalions were divided into working 
 parties, and while trenches were being dug, kettles 
 were singing merrily over roadside fires. 
 
 As we returned to Le Cateau our passage was 
 blocked by a crowd of countryfolk rotating about 
 a German prisoner in the midst of a corporal's 
 guard of stout Tommies. A mere lad in grey, 
 
THE RETREAT BEGUN 17 
 
 smooth-shaven, with downcast eyes and pale face, 
 he seemed absolutely overwhelmed by the threat- 
 ening cries of the rabble that filled the road and ran 
 alongside him screaming imprecations in a very 
 pandemonium. If he remembered how some of his 
 German comrades had killed our wounded as they 
 lay on the field of battle — if such tales could be 
 believed — I wondered whether that mild edition of 
 the Hun was expecting a speedy execution at the 
 hands of his captors. He certainly looked it. 
 
 At Le Cateau a staff officer told me that though 
 some German cavalry had penetrated into Cambrai 
 in the morning, it was still in the hands of the 
 French in the afternoon, and that Sordet's cavalry 
 was not far from the town. At six o'clock a cool, 
 refreshing rain started. This later developed into 
 a cold drizzle, which was anything but welcome. 
 The Le Cateau townsfolk had another spasm of ex- 
 citement over a German bicycle scout who had been 
 caught near Beauvais, a village half-way between 
 Le Cateau and Cambrai. This German youth was 
 thin and lantern-jawed, adorned with a straggling 
 blonde moustache, and of most anaemic appearance. 
 Painfully fearful of the hostile crowd, and, oh, so 
 thankful for his round score of guards, he heaved 
 a great sigh of relief when brought within the gate- 
 way out of the sight of the vociferous French 
 crowd. His knees shook beneath him as he was 
 marched off upstairs to encounter the Intelligence 
 Officer. 
 
 At this moment Westminster was arranging a 
 departure with a couple of staff officers for a run 
 in his car along the front. He placed in the car a 
 couple of rifles and a belt of ammunition taken 
 
1 8 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 from two of the soldiers. A very youthful Tommy, 
 closely observant of every detail of the proceedings, 
 connected the arrival of the spy and the arming of 
 the car, and said to me in an awed whisper, 
 " Where are they going to take him to shoot him? " 
 The youngster was almost disappointed when I ex- 
 plained that an enemy's scout in uniform was en- 
 titled to all the privileges of the most respected pris- 
 oner of war. " / would not let him go sneaking 
 around spying. I'd shoot him," he insisted. A cou- 
 ple of minutes after I saw him sidle up to the Ger- 
 man boy who had been returned from his interview 
 with " Intelligence," and furtively offer him a cig- 
 arette. Ten minutes later I asked the British boy 
 if he still thought the juvenile German should be 
 summarily executed. My Tommy grinned sheep- 
 ishly and said grudgingly, as though ashamed of the 
 sentiment expressed, " Oh, well, I suppose the poor 
 beggar has to do just the same as we do." I found 
 the British Tommy was more often than not an- 
 noyed when discovered at some kindly action. 
 
 That night I ran to St. Quentin. The rain had 
 set in doggedly. Passing provision and ammunition 
 trains, with artillery and cavalry occupying a con- 
 siderable share of the roadway, the slippery pave 
 played all sorts of tricks in the way of unusual and 
 unexpected skids. The one and a half hours of that 
 run south seemed to occupy a much longer period. 
 In passing a motor-cyclist at good speed, the back 
 part of a car in front of us brushed him off his 
 machine. He slid thirty feet, coming to rest in 
 front of my car and in the full glare of my head- 
 lights as I skidded sideways to avoid passing over 
 him. We picked him up, straightened his handle- 
 
THE RETREAT BEGUN 19 
 
 bars, and bent a pedal into place. Finding him by 
 no means incapacitated, we mounted him and 
 started him off again. I was surprised he was able 
 to ride. But that was before I had come to know 
 that the motor-cyclists with the British Expedition- 
 ary Force bore charmed lives. 
 
 G.H.Q. in St. Quentin was in a big barracks of 
 a place. When I arrived it was late and wet, and 
 too much bother altogether to try to get a billet, 
 and I was too tired to care for dinner. 
 
 At three o'clock on the morning of Wednesday, 
 August 26th, I was so fortunate as to encounter a 
 staff officer with a moment to spare, from whom I 
 could gain some concrete idea of the situation. 
 
 The British Expeditionary Force had been dis- 
 patched from England with such secrecy, and I was 
 in any case so unfamiliar with the general make-up 
 of the British Army, that a careful explanation as 
 to just what troops composed Sir John French's 
 command was most welcome. It was easy for me 
 to remember that Haig's 1st Corps was composed of 
 the 1 st and 2nd Divisions, with the 1st, 2nd and 3rd 
 Brigades in the 1st Division, and the 4th, 5th and 
 6th Brigades in the 2nd Division. Smith-Dorrien's 
 second army contained the 3rd and 5th Divisions. 
 In the 3rd Division were Brigades 7, 8 and 9, and 
 in the 5th Division Brigades 13, 14 and 15. The 
 fact that General Snow's 4th Division (10th, nth 
 and 1 2th Brigades) of the 3rd Army and the 19th 
 Brigade, which was not attached to any particular 
 Division, were in evidence I knew from having been 
 told of their detraining when they had arrived at 
 Le Cateau and Valenciennes respectively. My in- 
 formant told me that General Allenby, command- 
 
20 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 ing the Cavalry Division, had under him the ist, 
 2nd, 3rd, 4th and 5th Cavalry Brigades. With 
 great patience my mentor sat in the car and drilled 
 into me the composition of first the Cavalry units 
 and next the units of the 2nd Corps, and finally the 
 ist Corps. 
 
 But my best bit of luck was to come. The fact 
 that my car was available at the moment a car was 
 required to run " up front " provided me with a 
 journey which put me in much better touch with the 
 trend of events. The morning dawned clear and 
 cool. I was asked if I knew the road to Le Cateau. 
 I replied that I had come over it the night before, 
 and was quite familiar with it. Thereupon I was 
 ordered to proceed to Le Cateau with as little delay 
 as possible. As the sun rose it was evident that the 
 day would be a scorcher. The air was clear after 
 the rain of the night before, and in front of us the 
 increasing sound of guns told of strenuous battle. 
 I do not know the name of the officer who was my 
 passenger, nor do I know whether he was constitu- 
 tionally moody or whether some strange presenti- 
 ment of the day's events came over him. In ap- 
 pearance he was a confirmed pessimist. I ques- 
 tioned him as to the general situation, and he told 
 me that he was not clear as to what was taking place 
 in front of us. The officer — a Major — told me 
 Haig's Corps had been attacked in Landrecies the 
 night before, and a severe all-night battle had re- 
 sulted. The Major was under the impression that 
 the retreat of the whole British Army, carried on 
 with such speed on the day before, would be con- 
 tinued to the southward. As we drew nearer to Le 
 Cateau our progress was rendered increasingly diffi- 
 
THE RETREAT BEGUN 21 
 
 cult by congestion of traffic by all manner of horse 
 and motor transport. The battle in front of us was 
 gradually developing, and soon the sound of guns 
 became a continuous roar. Apparently the further 
 retirement of Smith-Dorrien's command had been 
 rendered impossible by an impetuous German ad- 
 vance. 
 
 At the edge of Le Cateau a cavalry officer told us 
 the 19th Brigade were holding the town and Gen- 
 eral Briggs and his 1st Cavalry Brigade were at 
 Catillon, a village four or five miles to the east of 
 us. Briggs' force, said he, was our only protection 
 on the right flank. He did not know where Haig 
 might be with his 1st Corps. We told him of Haig's 
 fight at Landrecies, and the three of us pored over 
 my map long enough to make up our minds that 
 somehow a gap had been left between Le Cateau 
 and Landrecies, a matter of seven or eight miles. 
 
 We were right. That gap existed. It was 
 through that gap that the German forces were to 
 be poured in mass after mass that day, driving back 
 the small cavalry force in front of them, and com- 
 pelling the retirement of the right of Fergusson's 
 5th Division, and the consequent retreat of the 
 whole line. 
 
 Already the air was tense with the reverberations 
 of battle. The sound of the fighting came from in 
 front and to the west of us. 
 
 We ran to Bertry and stopped by the railway- 
 station. A sergeant who stood beside the car told 
 me the Germans had the day before enfiladed a 
 trench full of South Lancashires of the 7th Bri- 
 gade and " wiped out every one of them, except 
 one subaltern and five men, with machine-gun fire." 
 
22 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 That story was the forerunner of half a hundred 
 similar ones I was to hear during the next few days 
 of commands completely annihilated, or nearly so. 
 I have often wondered if I missed any one Battal- 
 ion of the 2nd Corps from out this category of 
 disaster. If the rumours had been true, only a 
 handful of British troops would have crossed the 
 Marne away to the southward a few days later. 
 As soon as the retreat was in full swing I heard 
 the most extraordinary stories of contingents wiped 
 out, destroyed to the last man — save always the 
 sole survivor who told the tale. The tendency to 
 exaggerate casualties was by no means confined to 
 the lower ranks. 
 
 Just after seven o'clock a car drove up and Gen- 
 eral Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien alighted. He had 
 come to the station to telephone to Sir John French, 
 away to the south at St. Quentin. General Smith- 
 Dorrien was as cool and self-possessed as though 
 the battle pounding away in front of us were a sham 
 fight. 
 
 I gathered the " situation " in Bertry as it could 
 have been gained nowhere else that morning. 
 
 General Smith-Dorrien had under his direct com- 
 mand the 2nd Corps only. The 4th Division, which 
 was falling back from Solesmes as his 3rd and 5th 
 Divisions retired southward, and General Allenby's 
 Cavalry Division were under the orders of G.H.Q. 
 With the 2nd Corps was the 19th Brigade, having 
 on arrival at the front been pushed up hurriedly 
 to the Conde-Mons line, and still more hurriedly 
 pulled away from it. 
 
 Fighting rearguard actions all day long, the 2nd 
 Corps had reached the Le Cateau position on the 
 
THE RETREAT BEGUN 23 
 
 25th with the idea that a stand would be made on 
 that line. When Smith-Dorrien came into De Cateau 
 in the evening he found Sir John French had moved 
 to St. Quentin. The Chief of Staff, General Mur- 
 ray, told Smith-Dorrien that the plans were 
 changed. " You are not to fight. You must keep 
 on retiring," were the instructions. 
 
 " But," said Smith-Dorrien, " I cannot retire 
 further. My men are just coming in. They have 
 been on their feet all day and are too tired to go 
 on. My rearguards have been at it all day, and 
 there is no other way out of it. I must fight." 
 
 Murray could only say that the orders to con- 
 tinue a retirement and avoid a conflict were definite 
 and in writing. Sir John had been most explicit. 
 
 But General Murray could not change the condi- 
 tions any more than he could change the orders. 
 General Smith-Dorrien knew he could not get his 
 men further south without some rest. Von Kluck 
 was pressing on. Three extra corps had been 
 swung round from the eastward to crumple and 
 turn, if not envelop, the Allied left. A smashing 
 blow at the advancing enemy might hold him off 
 till nightfall of the 26th and allow retirement then. 
 So the smashing blow was delivered. 
 
 It was two o'clock on the morning of Wednesday 
 before Sir Horace had learned the location of the 
 units which were to be thrown into the fight. His 
 battle line from east to west was the 5th Division, 
 3rd Division, and 4th Division, with the 19th Bri- 
 gade in Le Cateau on the right rear of the 5th 
 Division. Briggs with his 1st Cavalry Brigade and 
 a bit of another Cavalry Brigade was on the right 
 flank, and the rest of Allenby's five Cavalry Bri- 
 
24 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 gades on the left rear of Snow's 4th Division. All of 
 them were informed of the battle that was to take 
 place and the part they were to play in it. Smith- 
 Dorrien also sent word to General Sordet, with his 
 French cavalry, that the fight was toward, and any 
 help he could give on the extreme left would be of 
 great value. Sir John French had during the previ- 
 ous day (Tuesday) sent to General Sordet more 
 than once asking his assistance, and each time re- 
 ceived the reply that his horses and men were so 
 worn out that Sordet could not come up and join 
 issue with the enemy. General Smith-Dorrien's 
 message to Sordet was, " I am going to fight, and 
 hope you can help cover my left flank." 
 
 At last, between two and three o'clock in the 
 morning, the dispositions of the troops were made, 
 and the tired men caught such sleep as they could 
 before the coming of the dawn. 
 
 At break of day the conflict began. Five hun- 
 dred German guns were hailing shell on that front 
 before the day was over, and the sound of them 
 was deafening before the morning was well ad- 
 vanced. 
 
 In response to a request to telephone Sir John 
 French, Sir Horace had come to the station at 
 Bertry. He found General Henry Wilson at the 
 other end of the wire. Wilson said, " Sir John 
 wants you to retire at the earliest moment possible. 
 He is anxious you shall not continue the fight a mo- 
 ment longer than is absolutely necessary. He is of 
 the opinion that in not falling back you are risking 
 a Sedan." 
 
 Smith-Dorrien explained that he could not break 
 off the fight at any moment he might desire. " The 
 
THE RETREAT BEGUN 25 
 
 only thing we can do is to give the Germans a 
 smash, and we are going to do it," he said. " The 
 men are too tired to walk further. They can't use 
 their feet. The only thing for them to do when 
 they can't stand is to lie down and light. Both my 
 flanks are in the air. I don't know where Haig is 
 on my right. At least, I am not in touch with his 
 left. I hope for some French support on my own 
 left. My instructions to the Divisions are all clear, 
 and I have arranged lines of retirement south in 
 case we are forced back. All we can do under the 
 circumstances is to see if we can't hold them off 
 until dark." 
 
 Someone who heard General Wilson told me long 
 afterwards that he said to Smith-Dorrien in conclu- 
 sion, " Well, General, your voice is the only cheer- 
 ful thing I've heard for three days. Give 'em 
 hell!" 
 
 And hesdid. 
 
 After a short stop in Bertry I flew back to St. 
 Quentin and G.H.Q. with my pessimistic major. 
 
 In St. Quentin I saw Toby Rawlinson, a member 
 of our R.A.C. Corps and a brother of General Sir 
 H. S. Rawlinson. He told me of the fight at 
 Landrecies the night before. Haig's 1st Corps had 
 come into position along a line from Landrecies to 
 Maroilles about dark. They were very tired. 
 The Germans swooped down in force through the 
 Forest of Mormal in motor buses, and by nine 
 o'clock were in position in front of the town of 
 Landrecies in great numbers. Landrecies was held 
 by the 4th Guards Brigade, consisting of two Bat- 
 talions of the Coldstreams and the Irish and Gren- 
 adier Guards. The first German officers to ap- 
 
26 » FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 proach our pickets were dressed in French uniforms 
 and came in crying " Vive I'Angleterre! " They 
 rushed our thin line of outposts in mass, and were 
 actually in the streets of the town before the Guards 
 had time to complete any brigade or even regi- 
 mental formation. One Guards captain placed his 
 men on either side of the roadway, crouching on 
 the pavement with their backs to the houses. When 
 the stream of Germans had filled the street be- 
 tween them the Guards rose with a yell and gave 
 the enemy the cold steel. Down one street and 
 another British machine-guns went into action and 
 mowed down lanes in the German ranks. Rawlin- 
 son's carburettor went wrong in the dark and in the 
 middle of the attack, and his motor-car refused to 
 move. After the fierce German onslaught had been 
 thrown back to the northern edge of the town with 
 severe loss, the German field-guns poured shell into 
 all quarters of Landrecies, setting fire to the houses. 
 With his car pushed to the side of the pavement, 
 in the pitch dark, a galloping battery of artillery 
 just missing him by inches, Rawlinson took down his 
 carburettor, effected his repair, and put it up again. 
 
 On the edge of the fierce night fight, in which the 
 Guards lost eighty to ninety of their number killed 
 and thirty to forty wounded, and the Germans left 
 between 800 and 900 dead in the streets — in one 
 place so crowded that corpses were propped against 
 each other in a standing position — in the dark and 
 rain, by the fitful light of bursting shells or burn- 
 ing houses, truly that was motor-car repair under 
 difficulties. 
 
 Rawlinson left Landrecies at four o'clock in the 
 morning. The fight had developed strenuously on 
 
THE RETREAT BEGUN 27 
 
 the east towards Maroilles, but had ceased before 
 daybreak. The German onslaught had been re- 
 pulsed and the Guards enabled to get well away. 
 Haig's retreat was continued on the main road south 
 to Guise. 
 
 We heard but little of what was taking place at 
 Le Cateau as the morning wore away. I was asked 
 to take Major Thresher, the Camp Commandant, 
 to Noyon to establish G.H.Q. there. A French 
 major accompanied us. We ran to Noyon via Ham 
 and Guiscard. At the latter town some argument 
 between the French officer and the French reservist 
 sentry, the former wishing to proceed without being 
 bothered about the production of passes or other 
 machinery for delay, resulted in our finding our- 
 selves gazing into the muzzle of a French rifle with 
 orders to stop until the Officer of the Guard was 
 satisfied of our bond-fides. As I had no part in the 
 argument, most of which I did not understand on 
 account of the rapidity with which opinions were 
 expressed on both sides, I felt that the sentry was 
 taking quite an unnecessary view of my importance 
 when he insisted upon keeping the muzzle of the 
 rifle pointed directly at me instead of covering the 
 other occupants of the car. He gave me a nervous 
 sixty seconds. 
 
 In Noyon the work of arranging offices for G. 
 H.Q. and billets for those attached to it bid fair to 
 occupy Major Thresher for the rest of the day, so 
 I returned to St. Quentin in quest of further adven- 
 ture. When I arrived most of G.H.Q. was being 
 shifted from St. Quentin with a considerable 
 amount of bustle. No effort was made to disguise 
 the fact that the battle along the Cambrai-Le 
 
28 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 Cateau front was going against our 2nd Corps. 
 There was no actual panic, but on all sides was that 
 obvious effort to be cool which bespeaks strain. 
 Running north in the direction of Le Cateau I 
 found the roads becoming blocked. As I turned the 
 car with difficulty at a point near Renancourt I real- 
 ised that to remain there would be to become in- 
 volved in the maelstrom of southbound transport. 
 At that point four roads in a radius of less than a 
 kilometre debouched from the north with but one 
 main outlet to the southward. Running back to- 
 wards St. Quentin I picked up an Army Service 
 Corps subaltern who was considerably the worse for 
 wear. He was in charge of a column of transport 
 on what he described as the Le Cateau-St. Quentin 
 road. He was moving southward with his lorries 
 and an escort of 150 men, who were scattered along 
 the train, and neither ready nor organised for at- 
 tack. As the lorries came up a hill a couple of 
 hundred Uhlans dashed over the top and charged 
 the train with a rush. The subaltern said four men 
 and himself were all that got away, the rest being 
 taken or killed. He was dashed against one of the 
 lorries in the melee and was suffering from a broken 
 rib. I dropped him where headquarters had been 
 to report his experiences. 
 
 By evening all sorts of rumours were afloat in St. 
 Quentin. G.H.Q. had moved to Noyon. My car 
 was standing in front of the Mairie with two or 
 three others when a number of officers came out, 
 and jumping hastily into the cars, started away. It 
 would be foolishness to allege that the general 
 tendency was one of composure. I was the last to 
 leave, and had not proceeded twenty feet before a 
 
THE RETREAT BEGUN 29 
 
 rear tyre burst. The Mairie was on the north side of 
 St. Quentin. The officers in my car left it for a pass- 
 ing lorry with the idea of picking up some staff car in 
 the centre of the town. Time drags under such cir- 
 cumstances, and as dusk was approaching I man- 
 aged in replacing the burst tyre to bungle one or two 
 simple operations which spelled delay. A motor- 
 cyclist stopped for a moment and told me that the 
 road from Le Cateau would thenceforth be impass- 
 able for cars owing to the lines of troops and trans- 
 port coming over it. Considering where he had 
 been and what he had seen he was not over-pessi- 
 mistic, though he was frankly of the belief that very 
 little of Snow's 4th Division remained, if indeed 
 much of Smith-Dorrien's army would get away. 
 The retirement on the right he thought would re- 
 sult in the 4th Division on the left being surrounded 
 and cut off. 
 
 With this unpalatable news I finally got under 
 way for Noyon, which I reached at a late hour. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 " PROPER REARGUARDS " 
 
 Just before midnight as I was turning in, Borritt, 
 the member of the R.A.C. corps who usually trans- 
 mitted orders from Major Evans of G.H.Q. Staff 
 to the R.A.C. drivers, came to my billet and told me 
 that a volunteer was required for a precarious piece 
 of work. Borritt's insistence that the driver must 
 volunteer for the job, and the general air of mystery 
 in which he wrapped it, roused my curiosity. I 
 could only elicit from him at first that whoever 
 drove the car which was required for the mission in 
 hand would be called upon to dash through one or 
 possibly more towns that were in German hands. 
 Pressure elicited the further information that no 
 news had come to G.H.Q. from General Smith-Dor- 
 rien during the evening, and just how much of the 
 Left Wing of the Army remained, and where it 
 was, was unknown. Therefore, if a message did 
 not come from the 2nd Corps by three o'clock in the 
 morning a staff officer was to be sent by car to estab- 
 lish communication with whatever might remain of 
 Smith-Dorrien's Command. 
 
 When I learned that Loch was the staff officer 
 who had been chosen for this mission I was glad to 
 volunteer to act as his driver. I had cut away the 
 exhaust of my car and rendered it unusually noisy. 
 As this did not appear to be an advantage in such 
 circumstances, I awoke Jimmy Radley, an R.A.C. 
 
 30 
 
"PROPER REARGUARDS" 31 
 
 comrade, and obtained his permission to use his 
 Rolls-Royce car for the journey, in case I should be 
 called upon to make it. Before retiring I spent an 
 hour in becoming familiar with any little eccen- 
 tricities of Radley's car and putting in its tank 
 twelve precious gallons of petrol which I had con- 
 served in the tonneau of my car against emergency. 
 
 It was after one o'clock in the morning when I 
 got to sleep, and before three Lean, a cheery young 
 Scots subaltern attached to G.H.Q., awoke me and 
 told me I was to dress and proceed at once to Head- 
 quarters. I lost no time in turning out, thinking I 
 was in for an interesting experience in the way of a 
 somewhat perilous early morning excursion. Upon 
 reaching the street I found that news had come from 
 the 2nd Corps, brought by General Smith-Dorrien 
 himself. My trip with Loch was " off " and my 
 twelve precious gallons of petrol gone. 
 
 We had news that the fight had been a severe 
 one and that we had suffered many casualties. Our 
 infantry had held the German advance splendidly 
 throughout the morning. Their losses were slight 
 compared with those of the enemy, whose attacks, 
 hurled with persistent valour, could make no head- 
 way against our devastating fire. 
 
 With four or five German guns to our one in ac- 
 tion our artillery had fought valiantly, but with fear- 
 ful loss. 
 
 At about two o'clock in the afternoon word had 
 come to General Smith-Dorrien from Sir Charles 
 Fergusson that the German fire on his right flank 
 was so hot that the men of the 5th Division were 
 beginning to dribble away from the trenches. In- 
 vestigation showed that the Germans were taking 
 
32 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 advantage of the Le Cateau-Landrecies gap and 
 pouring through it. Nothing remained but to fall 
 back. The order for a gradual retirement, begin- 
 ning on the extreme right, was given. The troops 
 on the left were to leave their trenches when they 
 saw the line on their right retiring. When the 5 th 
 Division had left the line the 3rd and 4th Divisions, 
 to the westward, were gradually to come back in 
 turn. 
 
 Up to the time of retirement the casualties had 
 not been great, but as the men left the cover of the 
 trench line the German gunners peppered the fields 
 with shell. It was marvellous that no greater 
 casualties were inflicted. General Smith-Dorrien 
 had worked indomitably to secure an orderly with- 
 drawal from the position and prevent a rout. Had 
 the Germans been a few hours later on our right 
 much of our subsequent confusion might have been 
 saved. 
 
 Fergusson's retirement commenced by 2.45 p.m., 
 and before four o'clock the whole line was falling 
 back. 
 
 Reaching St. Quentin at half-past eight in the 
 evening, and finding that Sir John French and G. 
 H.Q. had gone south to Noyon, Smith-Dorrien 
 came on to Sir John's headquarters, after an effort 
 to arrange for railway trains for his wounded and 
 exhausted men, arriving between one and two 
 o'clock in the morning. 
 
 He soon woke up his chief and reported the situ- 
 ation, then hurried back to the work of getting his 
 scattered forces together again. 
 
 The need for staff officers at St. Quentin being 
 imperative, every available man was hurried to 
 
"PROPER REARGUARDS" 33 
 
 some point where he could assist in the directing of 
 the entangled units. A convoy of three or four cars 
 was soon speeding away to the north, and not long 
 after dawn had reached St. Quentin. 
 
 I suffered an annoying delay en route. Before 
 leaving London I had requisitioned a couple of Ger- 
 man-made metal-studded tyres as spares. The metal 
 tread of one of these, which I had put on a back 
 wheel, came adrift and fiendishly wound itself about 
 a mudguard, so I had to chisel away the entire 
 guard to get it loose, the metal being bent down 
 and buried in the side of the tyre. The wheel re- 
 fused to revolve until I had removed the obstruc- 
 tion. When one is in so great a hurry as we were 
 that morning an operation of this kind, performed 
 in the dark, has its disadvantages. The country of 
 origin of that tyre was more than once casually men- 
 tioned during the stop. 
 
 The morning of Thursday, August 27th, found 
 us in the direct path of what in the early hours of 
 the day we believed to be but the remnant of the 
 shattered Left of the British Army. Like the dawn 
 of the day before, the morning broke clear and 
 warm, promising a hot summer day. The perfect 
 mornings on the retreat were some compensation 
 for our short hours of rest. 
 
 St. Quentin on Thursday, August 27th, saw rare 
 scenes and strange sights. 
 
 An orderly, well-disciplined army had been 
 through a great fight. Its infantry, unbeaten by the 
 infantry that opposed it, had been ordered to retire. 
 " Gawd knows why," hundreds of Tommies were 
 saying. The vastness of the scale of operations, 
 the uncertainty of the General Staff itself as to just 
 
34 FROM MON'S TO YPRES 
 
 what was happening in some quarters of the field, 
 and the universal ignorance of the rank and file as to 
 what had happened elsewhere than in their own im- 
 mediate vicinity, all tended to discouragement. 
 
 After inflicting such terrible losses as the German 
 foot soldiers suffered at Cambrai-Le Cateau, the 
 British Army had taken a hammering which seemed 
 to many of them totally unnecessary. 
 
 To fight stubbornly and victoriously against an 
 advancing enemy, hurling back his masses as fast 
 as they are poured forward, is soul-inspiring. To 
 leave such occupation for a scamper over a shell- 
 swept field, comrades falling to right and left as 
 they run, is not. Units that had just proven to 
 themselves their invincibility were smashed and dis- 
 integrated in the very obeying of an unwelcome 
 order to retire. 
 
 Jumbled together, inextricably mixed, each group 
 convinced that their little remnant contained the 
 only survivors of their individual command, confu- 
 sion worse confounded was only to be expected. 
 
 The work of sorting out the men from the steady 
 flowing stream of humanity as it moved southward, 
 of re-forming an army that had lost most semblance 
 of form, was the task set before the British officers 
 in St. Quentin that morning at sun-up. It did not 
 take them long to set about it. Stationed here and 
 there along the main route through the town, each 
 officer of staff became an usher, urbanely advising 
 each little knot of stragglers where to proceed to 
 find the nucleus of their particular unit, and obtain 
 food, drink, and news of their comrades. 
 
 The wounded were in considerable numbers. 
 Ambulances drew up at the railway-station and un- 
 
"PROPER REARGUARDS" 35 
 
 loaded. A couple of sweet, little, old French ladies 
 bustled about on one side of the station square, giv- 
 ing out tea as fast as they could make it. 
 
 Moving about St. Quentin in a motor-car that 
 morning was slow work, as the roads were full to 
 overflowing. Not far from the Mairie a wounded 
 officer, his vitality all but spent, was placed in my 
 car. I took him as quickly as possible to the sta- 
 tion. Badly wounded in the chest, he said with a 
 pale smile, " I've been about a hundred miles, it 
 seems, since I was hit, and in pretty well every sort 
 of conveyance except a motor-car. Two miles on a 
 limber nearly finished me." 
 
 He looked, poor chap, as though he had reached 
 care and attention none too soon. 
 
 For a time I was to act as usher at a point a 
 bit north of St. Quentin. Placed on the road by a 
 staff officer, and told where the men of the various 
 units were to be directed, I chose to stand by a 
 French lady, who, with her daughters, was supply- 
 ing coffee, steaming hot, to the passing Tommies. 
 
 Never shall I forget that staff officer's parting in- 
 structions. " Cheer them up as you keep them on 
 the move," he said. " They are very downhearted. 
 Tell them anything, but cheer them up. They've 
 got their tails down a bit, but they are really all 
 right. No wonder they are tired! Worn out to 
 begin with, then fighting all day, only to come back 
 all night — no rest, no food, no sleep — poor devils! 
 Yes, they are very downhearted. Tell 'em where 
 to go, and cheer 'em up — cheer 'em up." 
 
 Of all the jobs that have ever fallen to my lot, 
 I thought, this promises to be one of the most hope- 
 less. Cheer them up, indeed! A fine atmosphere 
 
36 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 this, for cheer. Ragged and muddy and footsore 
 they looked, straggling along. 
 
 The first individual who caught my attention par- 
 ticularly was a tall captain, an old acquaintance. 
 He showed me his service cap, through the crown 
 of which two neat bullet-holes had been drilled. 
 Both of the vicious little pellets had missed their 
 intended mark, though one had ploughed a slight 
 furrow along his scalp, leaving an angy red welt. 
 
 No one had examined his head to find what dam- 
 age had been caused, and he asked me to investi- 
 gate. He bent over, and I poked my finger here 
 and there, asking " where it hurt " and how much — 
 in short, doing the best I could to accomodate his 
 thirst for information. 
 
 As I was intent on my amateur probing a voice 
 from behind commented, " A close shave the little 
 divil made that toime, shure." Turning at the soft 
 brogue, what was my surprise to see a Jock, in a 
 kilt that looked as if its wearer had been rolled 
 in the mud. apless, his shock of red hair stood 
 on end, and a pair of blue Irish eyes twinkled mer- 
 rily. I was genuinely surprised. It was before I 
 had learned that an Irishman in a Scotch regiment 
 is no rara avis — nor a Cockney in a battalion 
 dubbed Irish on the rolls, for the matter of that. 
 
 As if entering himself in a competition of close 
 shaves, the Irishman held his right ear between 
 thumb and finger. "And what do ye think o' 
 that? " he queried. 
 
 Right through the lobe of his ear, close to his 
 cheek, a Mauser bullet had drilled a clean hole. 
 " Close that, I'm thinkin'," said the proud owner of 
 the damaged member, " and I niver knew how close 
 
"PROPER REARGUARDS" 37 
 
 me ear was to me head till that thing come along." 
 
 A burst of laughter from the group that had 
 gathered was infectious. The boys trailed off to- 
 gether, chatting over further stories of close shaves, 
 leaving me thankful the Irish lad had come by, 
 cheered that lot up, and so saved me the task. 
 
 The next group to reach me contained a sergeant 
 and a dozen or so Tommies, of most disreputable 
 exterior. 
 
 "To what lot do you belong, sergeant?" I 
 asked. 
 
 " We're Riles, sir," said the sergeant. 
 
 "You're what?" 
 
 "Riles!" with decided emphasis. 
 
 With a spasm, I remembered the Royal Fusiliers 
 were in the 9th Brigade of the 3rd Division, and 
 directed the group accordingly. 
 
 " You oughter know who we are," said the ser- 
 geant, somewhat haughtily. " We're the lot what 
 was first in Mons and last out, we are." 
 
 " That's right," piped up a squeaky voice that 
 came from a diminutive member of the squad; 
 " buck, you beggar, buck. Tell 'em the tale." 
 
 A grin on half a dozen faces told that the small 
 one might be expected to produce some comment 
 when occasion permitted. The sergeant turned. 
 "What's ailin' you, Shorty?" he demanded. 
 
 " Tell 'em the tale," croaked the little man. 
 " Fust in Mons and last out. In at three miles an 
 hour and out at eighteen. That's us, you bet," and 
 he snorted as the squad roared in appreciative 
 mirth. 
 
 So they drifted on, anything but downhearted, 
 if one could judge from the running fire of banter 
 
38 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 between Shorty and his sergeant, which kept their 
 comrades in continual chuckles as they toiled on. 
 
 Truly I thanked Shorty for his assistance in the. 
 " cheer-'em-up " department. 
 
 Detachments went past at times in step, whistling 
 or singing. Some were obviously too footsore to 
 walk normally, but they heroically tried to keep 
 pace with the rest, and made a brave show of it. 
 
 One big, lantern-jawed chap, as he caught sight 
 of me, insisted on his score of companions forming 
 single file. They brought rifles to shoulder and 
 stepped out in style with an indescribable swagger. 
 The Sphinx would have broken into a smile at the 
 sight of them. As the leader, much begrimed, came 
 up I explained that hot coffee was to be had from 
 jugs held by three little pig-tailed French school- 
 girls under a tree hard by. 
 
 As the boys drank, the leading spirit chatted. I 
 gathered from casual remarks, if they were to be 
 believed, that talking was a habit with him. In 
 fact, remarks were proffered, sotto voce, that he 
 had not ceased talking, except to sleep, since leav- 
 ing England. The comments of his soiled band 
 seemed meat and drink to his soul. He fairly rev- 
 elled in them. 
 
 " Pals we are, all right," he said with a grin, 
 " though no one would think it to hear 'em, would 
 they? Know how to fight, they do, but can't talk 
 — that's their drawback. Don't know no words." 
 
 A hot strong draught of good black French cof- 
 fee gave him pause, but a moment later he was at 
 it again. I told him where to go. As he tramped 
 off he said, " Come on, you blighters ! Don't block 
 the road. You ain't no bloomin' army now. 
 
"PROPER REARGUARDS" 39 
 
 You're a forlorn 'ope, that's what you are. Nice- 
 lookin' lot o' beggars. 'Op it!" And they " opped 
 it " to the music of his cheery abuse. God bless 
 him! 
 
 Not long after, a very woe-begone procession 
 hove in sight. But few were in that squad, and they 
 seemed very worn and tired. Red-eyed from lack 
 of sleep, barren of equipment, many a cap missing, 
 and not a pair of sound feet in the lot. Every man 
 had his rifle, but they looked very " done." 
 
 Here are the pessimists at last," thought I. 
 " It will take something to cheer this bunch." 
 
 I discovered their regiment and informed them 
 of the whereabouts of their fellows. " Yes," said 
 I, " three streets on after you get to the fountain, 
 then to the right, and there you'll see a big build- 
 ing on the left — that's the one." 
 
 " We've been rearguardin'," said a cadaverous 
 corporal who acted as spokesman. " We're proper 
 rearguards, we are. Been doin' nothin' else but 
 rearguardin'." 
 
 " Right," said I; "don't forget. Third turning 
 after the fountain. Plenty of food there." 
 
 " Rearguards, we are," from the lugubrious one. 
 " Proper rearguards. Ain't done nothing else for 
 three days." 
 
 "Cheero!" I insisted; "three streets on after 
 the fountain, and then " 
 
 " Proper rearguards " he started again. 
 
 " But," I interrupted in turn, " I'm telling you 
 where there's food, my boy." 
 
 " And I'm tellin' you, sir, if you'll not mind," he 
 continued gravely, " that we're proper rearguards, 
 we are. And we 'ave learned one thing about 
 
40 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 proper rearguards in this 'ere war right off, and 
 that is that rearguards ain't expected to eat. So 
 we 'ave give it up, we 'ave. It's a bad 'abit any'ow. 
 Ain't it, boys?" 
 
 Off they trudged, grinning. The funereal visage 
 of the spokesman turned and indulged in a sombre 
 wink, whereat they laughed to a man, and I with 
 them. 
 
 " Proper rearguards don't eat." He had had 
 his joke, and played it out to his heart's content. 
 
 Ah, well, it was an experience ! 
 
 I had not been long on that roadside when I 
 realised that many of us had been labouring under 
 a great delusion. It was not that someone was 
 needed to cheer up the Tommy; it was that most of 
 us needed the Tommy to cheer us up. 
 
 The indomitable pluck of the soldier in the ranks 
 and his effervescent cheeriness were to save that re- 
 treating army of Smith-Dorrien's as no staff work 
 could have saved it had the Tommy not possessed 
 those characteristics to such remarkable degree. 
 
 Many an officer whose hair had grown grey in 
 the service said that day that Tommy was of finer 
 metal than he had ever dreamed it possible of any 
 soldier. The very air was full of unostentatious 
 heroism. 
 
 One grizzled brigadier, seated on his horse, 
 watched that straggling army pass, tears dropping 
 now and then unheeded on his tunic, his lips pressed 
 hard. One of his staff heard the old warrior mut- 
 ter, as one detachment passed, soiled, but with bold 
 eye and shoulders well back: "Ah! they may be 
 able to kill such men, but they will never be able 
 to beat them." 
 
"PROPER REARGUARDS" 41 
 
 I began to look at the men with new eyes as 
 the morning passed. If the thousands straggling 
 by but continued to come, I thought, many more 
 must have been saved than any of us imagined. Be- 
 neath the grime and dirt and weariness I saw clear 
 eyes and firm jaws, even when men were almost too 
 worn out to walk further. Those who appeared 
 to be positively unable to go on were, stopped at the 
 St. Quentin station, to be sent south by rail. 
 
 I realised that in front of me was passing a 
 pageant such as man had rarely seen in the ages. 
 It was a pageant of the indomitable will and uncon- 
 querable power of the Anglo-Saxon. 
 
 Early in the day I was relieved and sent back to 
 the station. Horse wagons full of wounded jostled 
 the ambulances in the station yard. Even the motor 
 transport lorries, as they rolled past, paused to 
 drop off their quota of maimed and bandaged men 
 in khaki. 
 
 One young subaltern passed, sound asleep in his 
 saddle and unmindful of all about him, his horse 
 following the human current. 
 
 At times a pitiable group of refugees went by, 
 though for the most part the refugees had been 
 crowded off the main roads by the retreating army 
 or diverted to other routes. 
 
 A sergeant of the East Surrey regiment, of Fer- 
 gusson's Division, came up. His face was hag- 
 gard. He reported two hundred and fifty men, 
 with five officers, were all that was left of that Bat- 
 talion. 
 
 Standing near the bridge, close by the station, I 
 saw General Smith-Dorrien a few feet distant. He 
 turned, and I caught his eye. He was speaking to 
 
42 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 a passing officer. I hardly remember his words. 
 Something about plenty more of the same command 
 being down the road a bit, I think. It was good to 
 see Smith-Dorrien's face and hear his voice. I had 
 heard much of him during those days, and never 
 was he spoken of save in terms of affection. As he 
 looked my way he smiled, with the sort of smile 
 that everyone within range takes to himself as his 
 own property. It was of inestimable value that 
 morning in St. Quentin — Smith-Dorrien's smile. It 
 put heart into many a man. 
 
 I was struck with the number of guns going by. 
 Battery on battery wheeled past, most of them bat- 
 tle-scarred in some way. They had passed through 
 a rough time, our guns, and one could hardly see 
 an artillery unit without wanting to cheer them. 
 
 Scores of ambulances poured down from the 
 north, filled with exhausted men as well as wounded. 
 The prevailing note was query as to where some- 
 one else might be. Most men seemed to consider 
 themselves " lost " and utterly unaware of the 
 whereabouts of those of whom they were in search. 
 The bakeries opened, and the Tommies, all hungry, 
 some painfully so, as more than one had been with- 
 out food for twenty-four hours, proved good 
 patrons. The sight of fat rings of bread around the 
 neck or over the arm of a passing soldier looked 
 peculiarly cheery. 
 
 A drowsy fit struck me. The hot sun and the 
 continually-moving columns affected me like an opi- 
 ate. I was roused by Lord Loch and presented to 
 General Smith-Dorrien, who said he had neither 
 car nor horse with which to get about. Loch, to 
 my great delight, put my car at Smith-Dorrien's dis- 
 
"PROPER REARGUARDS" 43 
 
 posal. It was a treat to watch the General. Kindly 
 and cheery, his personality pervaded everything 
 about him. At the station, he was much interested 
 in an ambulance load of wounded who had just ar- 
 rived. He spoke to many of the men personally. 
 
 Soon after I took the General to the Mairie. He 
 was very cordial and chatted with me en route just 
 as he talked to all of us in St. Quentin that morn- 
 ing. Staff officers, soldiers, everyone — all were 
 parts of the whole. It was a lesson, watching him 
 saving the scattered pieces of his corps and weld- 
 ing them into a fighting force that would be all the 
 better for the awful experience through which they 
 had passed. 
 
 " Not very comfortable times," he said with a 
 smile. " This part of the world as one would have 
 seen it if touring hereabouts a month ago and the 
 situation in which we find ourselves to-day present 
 an immense contrast, do they not? " 
 
 He commented on the strenuous character of my 
 work. I remarked that the more I saw of the sort 
 of thing we were going through, the more thankful 
 I was to be there, if I could be of any use. 
 
 I was naturally pleased when he replied, " You 
 gentlemen with your cars are certainly of use, of 
 great use — of that you may be sure." 
 
 " Well, General," I said, " no able-bodied man 
 who can get here should want to be anywhere else, 
 if that is the case." 
 
 He laughed and added: " A man certainly wants 
 to be able-bodied for this sort of experience." 
 
 As we crawled slowly past long lines of motor 
 lorries, many of which had been reported lost, we 
 chatted of the power and make of my car, and of 
 
44 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 cars in general. Smith-Dorrien not only put one 
 perfectly at ease with himself, but acted as a tonic. 
 One could but borrow some of his cool assurance. 
 
 A French staff officer called at the Mairie from 
 General Sordet. 
 
 At half-past four on the previous afternoon, 
 when the battle was still raging in front, our rear- 
 guards fighting like mad to protect the retreating 
 army, General Smith-Dorrien heard a furious bom- 
 bardment on his extreme left. Mounting, and ac- 
 companied by one of his staff, he galloped away to 
 the westward towards the sound of the guns. He 
 thought the Germans had gotten round his left. 
 Through the line of the retreating 3rd Division and 
 on beyond them to the 4th Division he rode, only 
 to discover that the guns were further westward 
 than he had thought. Then he realised that the 
 noise of battle told of Sordet " helping cover the 
 left flank " of his hard-pressed British Allies, in 
 spite of the fatigue of his troops. 
 
 The French officer at the Mairie the next morn- 
 ing told us of a strenuous conflict in which the tired 
 French cavalry and some French Territorials had 
 gallantly pitched into the Germans' right with a 
 good will, inflicting severe losses and driving back 
 the oncoming enemy. 
 
 Corroboration of this had reached Smith-Dor- 
 rien the night before, when he had found two of 
 his Royal Flying Corps officers in the station at 
 St. Quentin. During the battle they had been fly- 
 ing over the German line in front of our left flank. 
 Between four and five o'clock in the afternoon they 
 flew through a veritable storm of bullets, some of 
 which disabled their engine and forced a descent. 
 
"PROPER REARGUARDS" 45 
 
 They were able to land safely, two or three miles 
 behind our lines, but found the aeroplane so dam- 
 aged that it had to be abandoned. They procured 
 a couple of bicycles and made their way to St. 
 Quentin. These officers told Smith-Dorrien that, 
 before descending, they had seen the French troops, 
 cavalry and infantry, engaging the Germans on the 
 extreme left. 
 
 Naturally, Smith-Dorrien expressed his thanks 
 to Sordet's staff officer in unmeasured terms. Ask- 
 ing him to convey his appreciation to General 
 Sordet, Sir Horace said he would there and then 
 " make a special report on the subject to the Field- 
 Marshal " — Sir John French. 
 
 The Frenchman, apparently the happiest man in 
 St. Quentin that morning, after many adieus to us 
 all, and wishes of good fortune to everyone, rode 
 off post haste to rejoin his chief. 
 
 Later I was given a new job. I was to accompany 
 Captain Cox, of the G.H.Q. Staff, to a point to the 
 north of St. Quentin, and there to wait with him 
 and again direct stragglers. Cox was instructed to 
 stay in that position as long as it was advisable for 
 him to do so — from the standpoints of usefulness 
 and safety. As he was the nearest Staff officer to 
 the enemy, we judged, from what we had been told, 
 that it was quite possible we might have to " run 
 for it " before the day was over. We could not 
 understand why the Germans had not followed up 
 their victory at Cambrai-Le Cateau, and were not 
 enveloping St. Quentin and the scattered 2nd Corps 
 at that moment. 
 
 Cox explained to me that in case the Germans 
 pushed ahead, and it became impossible for us to 
 
46 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 remain longer where we were, we would proceed to 
 the square where the Mairie was located, pick up 
 Lean, our Scot, then scoot for it to the southward, 
 past the railway station. A subaltern named Mc- 
 Lean, with his motor-cycle, was attached to us. I 
 learned later that he was Marconi's secretary be- 
 fore the world-war. He had given the alarm of 
 the oncoming Germans at Landrecies. We made 
 a compact to the effect that he should be allowed to 
 keep ahead of the car in case of a scamper, so that 
 he could get in with us in case he fell off his 
 11 bike." 
 
 The congestion of traffic was so great along the 
 town's main thoroughfares that I started off by my- 
 self to reconnoitre a new way round in case we 
 wanted to get to the station in quick time. Down 
 a side road I passed a museum which was being- 
 utilised as a hospital. A doctor asked if I would 
 take a load of wounded men to the station. I took 
 three Tommies, all badly wounded, into the car. Oc- 
 cupying the front seat with me was one of the Royal 
 Scots, with a nasty hole in his shoulder. " We 
 were quite all right in our trenches," he told me. 
 " The bullets were dropping like rain, but we were 
 keeping well out of the way of them. Then all of 
 a sudden we got the order to retire, the Lord knows 
 why. When we began to retire we got it very bad." 
 
 That feeling seemed fairly universal. 
 
 They hated so to come back. 
 
 It was a fine thing — that splendid fighting spirit. 
 Magnificent soldiers they were, every one of them. 
 
 I landed my trio at the station, where they all 
 shook hands with me and wished me luck. One 
 could not walk, and all three were in great pain, but 
 
"PROPER REARGUARDS" 47 
 
 bearing it as soldiers should, without any undue 
 fuss. 
 
 When I got back to him Cox had his hands full. 
 Before I rejoined him I had a cool wash in a tiny 
 provision shop of sorts. The day was a lovely one, 
 warm and sunny. 
 
 While I was laving myself a couple of South 
 Lanes, men entered the shop and ordered tea and 
 bread-and-butter. One of the pair was voluble 
 enough for both. He was eager to explain the 
 whole battle. He drew the 2nd Corps' position in 
 line and placed the Germans in a half circle, the 
 ends flanking the British right and left. " We were 
 well entrenched," he said, " and the Germans 
 opened on us from five hundred to six hundred 
 yards. They fire in absolute masses. Never was 
 anything like it heard of. One row of them lies 
 down, behind them a row kneels, and back of them 
 again a third row stands. You couldn't imagine 
 such a target. It seemed too easy. You could just 
 pump the bullets into 'em like smoke, and never 
 miss a shot. You have no idea how it seemed, lying 
 there firing into that grey bunch of men and think- 
 ing all the time what fools they were to stand there 
 and take it. And the funny thing Was that they 
 couldn't shoot for nuts either. The standing lot 
 didn't even raise their rifles to their shoulders, but 
 fired from the hip. They must have sent an awful 
 lot of pills our way, but they couldn't hit a balloon." 
 
 The quieter soldier took up the narrative. " As 
 fast as we would knock over a German another 
 would take his place." 
 
 That had impressed both of the South Lanes, 
 men. They spoke of that feature of the fight with 
 
48 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 obvious respect for the men, fools and Germans 
 though they were, who could stand such punish- 
 ment. 
 
 " Our men must have hit at least ten of them to 
 everyone of us that got it," said the quiet one. 
 
 Both men were loud in the praise of our guns, 
 the fire from which had been splendidly accurate. 
 " But that battery back of us got it like hell after- 
 wards." 
 
 " At one time in the forenoon we drove the Ger- 
 mans in front of us back quite a bit. They came on 
 again thicker than bees. The Bedfords retired on 
 our right not long after three o'clock, and then we 
 were ordered back. As we went the Germans got 
 some machine-guns up and enfiladed our trenches. 
 When we once got out into the open the shrapnel 
 followed us all the way. One, two, three, four in 
 line, and then one, two, three, four in line again, 
 further over, and so on. Lord, but we had plenty 
 hit then ! I think their guns were mounted on 
 motor-cars the way they got 'em about." 
 
 " Yes," chipped in the quiet one, " so do I. And 
 as if it wasn't bad enough scampering across those 
 fields like rabbits, our lot bunched after a bit, and 
 then we did fair get what for ! " 
 
 And I left them to their tea, fighting the battle 
 over again with great gusto, revelling in reminding 
 one another of how various of their comrades had 
 " got it." 
 
 Tired? Well, they should have been, and no 
 doubt they were. But in the memory of that awful 
 battle it was easy to forget their fatigue. 
 
 I stood by Cox for a time and helped " hearten 
 them up." One young lad from the Royal Irish 
 
"PROPER REARGUARDS" 49 
 
 Regiment was woefully tired and hungry. He was 
 helping a comrade who had strained his knee and 
 was in no little pain. I asked him if he thought he 
 could get on another mile or so, and he grinned and 
 replied, " Sure. My lot have been in action Sun- 
 day, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, and after 
 that I can do anything you like on Thursday." 
 
 It was sad to see some of the lame ones come 
 in. Now and then one would go by gingerly and 
 slowly, every step a bit of exquisite torture. 
 
 After a number of smaller groups of stragglers, 
 quite decent-sized detachments came through. A 
 really yery small percentage of the men were with- 
 out rifles. 
 
 All were astonishingly cheerful. Many a group 
 went by whistling in chorus. The majority of them 
 looked full of fight, and only now and again would 
 a broken one go by. 
 
 The French women were splendidly helpful. 
 Steaming bowls of coffee, little boxes of food, bits 
 of cake, pitchers of tea or jugs of milk, matches, 
 cigarettes, anything they thought would help to 
 cheer or comfort, they brought to the roadside for 
 the Tommies. 
 
 A good-sized contingent swung by in step, sing- 
 ing. Stopping for a drink of coffee, a sergeant told 
 me every one of them had been marching continu- 
 ously all night long. 
 
 Twos and threes strolled down the road at in- 
 tervals leisurely, as though interested spectators. 
 Good-natured banter was flung from one group to 
 another. Questions confirmed what I had been 
 told, to the effect that most of our casualties had 
 been from shrapnel, after the retirement had be- 
 
50 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 gun. Very little damage had been inflicted on our 
 troops by the German infantry fire. All testified to 
 that. 
 
 By noontime we wondered that we had no news 
 of stragglers being taken up, or Uhlans cutting 
 them off as they came ambling down the road. A 
 subaltern told us of Renancourt. The chaos there 
 was maddening. A battery of enemy guns or a 
 strong force of cavalry could have piled up thou- 
 sands of casualties at that point. The roads there- 
 abouts were full of abandoned trains, and here and 
 there an abandoned gun, he said. 
 
 But still no news of the enemy's further advance, 
 which we had so confidently expected all the morn- 
 ing. 
 
 Guns could be heard to the north and to the west. 
 Sordet's French Cavalry and our own gallant Cav- 
 alry Brigades were efficient rearguards. 
 
 A French reservist force was not far from us, to 
 the north of St. Quentin, but in no great numbers, 
 and not, to my mind, particularly formidable. 
 
 A German monoplane put in an appearance, but 
 created little stir. 
 
 We began to theorise. Had Haig's lot turned, 
 after all, and struck Von Kluck's left flank? No, 
 we would have heard the guns. Rumour came, too, 
 that Haig had been fighting severe rearguard ac- 
 tions in front of Guise. 
 
 Had the Germans been so unmercifully ham- 
 mered at Cambrai-Le Cateau that their troops were 
 unable to follow? Unlikely. Then, there were 
 plenty more of 'em. That we knew. 
 
 How those German first line regiments had stood 
 the gaff ! Losses of thirty to forty per cent, demor- 
 
11 PROPER REARGUARDS" 51 
 
 alise all but the finest commands, we argued. Von 
 Kluck's stalwarts have been through the mill for 
 days now — has our punishment stopped the rush of 
 their onslaught at last? 
 
 So we theorised. 
 
 And we were not far wrong, after all. Von 
 Kluck had tried hard to smash and envelop the 
 British Left, and had failed. He had knocked back 
 Smith-Dorrien, in some confusion, but only after 
 enormous losses had been inflicted on the German 
 forces. The backbone of the movement against 
 French, the attempt to wipe his " contemptible lit- 
 tle army " off the map, was broken by the fight put 
 up by the British Left that Wednesday at Cambrai- 
 Le Cateau. 
 
 Our British Cavalry was doing wonders unbe- 
 known to us. Briggs and de Lisle with the First 
 and Second Cavalry Brigades were covering the 2nd 
 Corps' retreat, and Gough and Bingham, with the 
 Third and Fourth Cavalry Brigades, were protect- 
 ing the retirement of Haig's First Corps. Chet- 
 wode, too, with the 5th Cavalry Brigade, was in 
 front of Haig and delivering stinging blows to the 
 German advance. 
 
 By one o'clock so many of our men had passed 
 that all thought of a demolished army had left 
 us. Dirty, tired, and hungry though they were, 
 they were cheery and fit. They wanted rest 
 and, above all, food. But no one could imagine 
 them in the least beaten. The British Tommy and 
 his indomitable spirit had saved the day. His good 
 temper and pluck had survived the awful experience 
 between the commencement of the retirement from 
 the battle line in the middle of the afternoon until 
 
52 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 dark had ended the fight. More, it had lived 
 through the awful night of confusion and retreat 
 with its hunger, thirst, and utter weariness. The 
 morning had brought little respite, but the sun was 
 shining, and with the warmth of the day Tommy 
 came back into his own and up came his head and 
 his heart. 
 
 He had saved himself! 
 
 Dozens of times little groups reported to us that 
 they were " all that were left " of such and such a 
 regiment. Almost invariably we could tell them of 
 others of their command whom they would find 
 further on at the point of rendezvous, where they 
 could be sure of food and a brief rest. 
 
 Early in the afternoon word came to us from 
 mounted scouts that the Uhlans were about three 
 miles out and coming on in force. Cox sent me to 
 Headquarters to see if there was any truth in the 
 report. From what I could gather, it seemed that 
 a Uhlan force was heading south, a bit to the east 
 of us. 
 
 Cox considered it advisable that we should run 
 out eastward toward Guise and search for informa- 
 tion re the German advance. Accordingly we 
 picked up Lean and with our cyclist pounded away. 
 A mile or so out of St. Quentin we ran across the 
 1 6th Lancers, who were in Gough's 3rd Cavalry 
 Brigade. They were dismounted in a nicely- 
 sheltered field surrounded by trees, and were very 
 well concealed. As Cox was talking to the Com- 
 manding Officer of the 16th a mounted scout rode 
 up in blue overalls, old brown coat, and a brown 
 cap. Had I not heard him speak English I would 
 have thought him of some other nationality. He 
 
" PROPER REARGUARDS" 53 
 
 reported a detachment of German cavalry just out- 
 side St. Quentin on the north. The order " Fall 
 in in squads " was given, and the 16th mounted and 
 started away northwards. I wondered if they 
 would find two thousand German infantry that had 
 been reported not long before by some French 
 reservist scouts as coming on towards St. Quentin 
 from the north-west. 
 
 On we ran at a good pace to the east, and be- 
 fore long crossed the Oise at Origny. Here we 
 met the advance guard of Haig's 1st Corps en 
 route from Guise. Haig's line of retreat was to 
 be to the south to La Fere. Cox wanted to find 
 Sir Douglas Haig himself, so we passed well-nigh 
 the whole of his command to reach him. This op- 
 eration, on the country road, was at times trying. 
 Finally, not far from the village of Jonqueuse, a 
 few kilometres west of Guise, we saw Haig on a 
 little hilltop by the roadside, chatting with his staff 
 and a handful of French officers, as they kept their 
 glasses on the rolling country stretching away to 
 the northward. 
 
 A Brigade staff officer, with whom I had a mo- 
 ment's talk, told me that on the previous morning 
 two Battalions of infantry of the 1st Corps had 
 been ineffectively picketed, with the result that the 
 Germans had rushed them and inflicted severe dam- 
 age. " Only two officers of one of the Battalions 
 were left," he said. That was the first version I 
 heard of the story of the Munster Fusiliers. 
 Another staff officer told me a few minutes after- 
 wards that the Munsters were at the rear of the 
 Corps, and a messenger from Headquarters with 
 orders for their retirement failed to reach them. 
 
54 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 They stayed where they were, even though attacked 
 by overwhelming numbers, and fought until they 
 were completely surrounded. Even then they re- 
 fused to surrender until they had fired their last 
 round. Their losses were terrible. During the 
 next hour I heard the same story with half a dozen 
 variations, but that one appeared to be the most 
 correct. I climbed up alongside General Haig's 
 staff, and stood there for an hour or more listening 
 to the sound of the cannonading. North of Guise 
 on our right and away to the left and to the north 
 of St. Quentin the guns were hard at it. 
 
 Samuels' an R.A.C. driver, showed up at an op- 
 portune moment with a Bologna sausage, a bottle 
 of villainous vin blanc, and some quite decent Rus- 
 sian cigarettes. They disappeared instanter, to our 
 very material benefit. 
 
 At last we started for Noyon and G.H.Q. Cox 
 was anxious to get there as soon as possible, so I 
 chose a cross-country route to La Fere down small 
 roads through the smiling and fertile valley of the 
 Oise. 
 
 Even the smallest winding roads were good ones. 
 While still near Guise we passed a wagon-load or 
 two of refugees. Before we were out of earshot of 
 the gunning, however, the countryside took on its 
 usual appearance. All day long we had been in the 
 midst of scenes of war. Here, a very few miles 
 away, one could hardly imagine war existed in the 
 same valley. Perhaps the women and children, 
 with an old man or two, gathered more eagerly in 
 the doorways of the village houses as we dashed 
 through, but the menfolk not at the front were hard 
 at work in the fields and about the farmyards. The 
 
"PROPER REARGUARDS" 55 
 
 crops were \ generous and the land fairly blossomed 
 with plenty. A commercial traveller in his cart was 
 selling his wares in front of a village store as if 
 never a German had crossed the Rhine. 
 
 As we neared La Fere a barricade had been 
 formed by pulling a couple of farm carts across 
 the road. A trio of reservists were on guard, one 
 armed with a nickel-plated 38-calibre revolver of 
 the old " bull-dog " type, the sole visible weapon 
 of the outpost. The sentry with the bright bit of 
 ordnance smilingly apologised for the necessity of 
 examining our passes, waving the pistol about airily 
 in emphasis of his urbane remarks in a manner that 
 badly scared me. I began to get the idea that 
 given a combination consisting of a French 
 reservist, a firearm of sorts, and me, I would in- 
 variably be in line with the muzzle of the weapon. 
 And I am of too nervous a temperament to enjoy 
 that sort of thing. 
 
 La Fere was full of French troops and was the 
 rail base of the 2nd Corps. Smith-Dorrien's head- 
 quarters, so one of our Flying Corps told us, were 
 first located at Ham, and then moved to Guiscard. 
 The broad road from Le Fere to Chauny and 
 thence to Noyon was soon covered. We reached 
 G.H.Q. by dinner-time. I was thoroughly tired, 
 so after a hurried dinner in a restaurant of sorts, 
 was soon fast asleep in a most comfortable bed. 
 
 I was still in the arms of Morpheus on Friday 
 morning (August 28th) when^ Captain Cox wakened 
 me to borrow my map, a rather better one than 
 those provided by G.H.Q. Cox told me I was on 
 that day to drive Lieut.-Colonel J. S. M. Shea 
 (35th Horse), attached to General French's staff 
 
S6 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 as a liaison officer. I count the day a lucky one that 
 I met Jimmy Shea, for he is of the salt of the earth. 
 
 After breakfast we reconnoitred the different 
 roads through Noyon. The 2nd Corps was con- 
 tinuing its retreat southward. The units were still 
 somewhat scattered and required general collecting 
 together and organising. The Army was to drop 
 back to the line Noyon-Chauny. We were more 
 concerned with the 2nd Corps units which were 
 passing through Noyon, as our own work lay with 
 them. The 4th Division, 19th Brigade, and some 
 of the cavalry units were also passing through our 
 hands. Most of the morning we stood by the road- 
 side watching provision trains, ambulances, lorries 
 laden with ammunition, and all the transport of an 
 Army Corps file past us. Batteries of guns and de- 
 tachments of infantry all were working slowly 
 southward. G.H.Q. had moved to Compiegne in 
 the morning. 
 
 I heard a great deal of general gossip during the 
 forenoon from staff officers and officers of various 
 contingents that were on the road. It was fairly 
 well known by this time that three German Army 
 Corps had been diverted from a point further east 
 and swung around to reinforce Von Kluck's 1st 
 Army. We heard but little authentic news of the 
 French, but Dame Rumour was busy with all sorts 
 of general reports of German successes at Dinant 
 and further east. 
 
 Once in a while a block came in the traffic, and 
 then we had an awful job working up and down the 
 packed lines straightening out the transport and the 
 troops. It was a fine day and very hot. The troops 
 were cheery and good-natured. I was particularly 
 
"PROPER REARGUARDS" 57 
 
 impressed by the kindness of the men to their 
 horses. Not only the cavalry troopers, but the men 
 in charge of horse transport were invariably con- 
 siderate of their cattle. The roads in the vicinity of 
 Noyon were lined with trees, the cool shade of 
 which was most welcome. In the afternoon the 
 2nd Army proper began to swing through in real 
 earnest. For three hours a steady stream of in- 
 fantry in different detachments passed. All were 
 wonderfully cheery and looked particularly well, 
 sleepy some of them, and here and there a swollen 
 foot gingerly treading the hard roadway. Consid- 
 ering the distance they had come, marvellously few 
 of the men limped. Stragglers grew hourly fewer 
 in number, which showed that the detachments were 
 getting together again. Frequently a regiment 
 came swinging along in step, singing or whistling in 
 unison. 
 
 We had news of a peculiar order issued by 
 G.H.Q. to the effect that the officers' kits should be 
 taken from the wagons and destroyed, to provide 
 accomodation for footsore infantry. The 4th 
 Division carried out this order before it was coun- 
 termanded, and eleven wagonloads of kit were 
 burned by the roadside — by no means a reassuring 
 sight. 
 
 A big Scot saw me take a letter from one of the 
 staff officers, and asked me if I would perform a 
 similar service for him. No sooner had I agreed 
 to do so than his entire regiment, which had halted 
 for a moment, grasped the opportunity and began 
 scribbling notes home. It was indeed touching to 
 see these hurried missives written on all sorts of 
 scraps of paper. There was no chance to pick or 
 
58 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 choose as regards form. Most of the letters were 
 to wives, and many to mothers, with now and then 
 one to a sister or a sweetheart. The majority of 
 them were just a line to say all was well. Few in- 
 deed could be called illiterate, and I saw none that 
 were illegible. What most impressed me was the 
 cheery vein that ran through them. No note of 
 despondency crept into that wayside postbag. It 
 was one more evidence of the stout heart of Tommy 
 Atkins that makes him the finest soldier in the 
 world. 
 
 Among the troops a couple of spies came, led 
 between two French soldiers. One was short and 
 swarthy, with coal-black moustache and hair. He 
 looked a Greek, and was dressed as some small 
 shopkeeper might have been on a Sunday outing. 
 The other prisoner wore a knit cap- and big khaki- 
 coloured coat that had apparently come from our 
 Quartermaster's Department at some time. He 
 was tall, of light complexion, and furnished the 
 greatest contrast possible to his companion. They 
 both wore a look of abject misery as they trudged 
 along in the dust to their death. Spies or suspected 
 spies had short shrift with the French in those days. 
 
 We raised some coffee from a wayside house in 
 the afternoon, but could get no milk. The town 
 was thoroughly emptied of eatables, and most of 
 the private houses were closed. Later in the after- 
 noon we got some eggs at one house and a bit of 
 bread-and-butter at another; and finally found an 
 estaminet where we could buy some wine. Discover- 
 ing a countrywoman at a drinking hall who would 
 cook for us, I arranged quite a dinner for Colonel 
 Shea, Dudley Carleton, Jimmy Rothschild, who was 
 
"PROPER REARGUARDS" 59 
 
 acting as Carleton's chauffeur, and myself. After 
 dinner Rothschild went to the post office to send a 
 telegram. I was sceptical about his ability to do 
 this, for the utmost secrecy was being preserved as 
 to our whereabouts in France. Rothschild offered 
 to get a wire through for me. He wrote a brief 
 message in French, addressed to my wife in Eng- 
 land, assuring her that I was fit, well, and happy. 
 Great was my surprise when the postmaster agreed 
 to send it. Subsequently I was still more surprised 
 to find that the wire had arrived in London in good 
 time. Moreover, the telegram clearly stated that 
 it had been despatched from Noyon on that Friday 
 evening. 
 
 Late that night we left Noyon for Compiegne. 
 Owing to the congested nature of the roads we lost 
 our way and wandered in the forests of Ourscamps 
 and Laigue till past midnight. Arriving in Com- 
 piegne, we could find no empty beds in the hotels, 
 but finally were lucky enough to discover a couple 
 of empty cots in a college dormitory, used as a 
 temporary hospital. 
 
 The German pressure on our rearguards had 
 visibly slackened on Friday, the 28th, and by night 
 the British Expeditionary Force had made good 
 its escape from anything in the nature of annihila- 
 tion. I had seen almost all of the 1st Corps, and 
 on the 27th and 28th had watched a large number 
 of the 2nd Corps, 4th Division, and 19th Brigade. 
 I had no hallucination about the Army being a 
 beaten one. The spirit of the men alone made it 
 impossible to describe them as beaten. The mo- 
 ment I realised that things were better than they had 
 at first sight seemed, I watched eagerly for signs 
 
60 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 of a further stand. The more I saw of French's 
 Army the more convinced I became of its invinci- 
 bility, and longed for the day when we could " get 
 some of our own back." 
 
 At an early hour on Saturday, the 29th, Colonel 
 Shea and I proceeded to a large hotel in Compiegne 
 and foraged for breakfast. Most of the servants 
 had left, but resourceful Toby Rawlinson hied him- 
 self to the kitchen and cooked a splendid breakfast 
 for Shea, Jimmy Rothschild, and me. 
 
 Cox told me the Germans had left off hammer- 
 ing after the British Expeditionary Force, and were 
 turning their attention to some of the French con- 
 tingents on our left. I did not know at the time 
 that General d'Amade was in touch with Von 
 Kluck's right in the direction of Arras. French 
 troops were east of the line between Guise and La 
 Fere, and were engaging the attention of Von 
 Kluck's left. On that Saturday our cavalry fought 
 a rearguard action at Ham, and subsequently a 
 more determined one at Guiscard. After the two 
 or three hours' fighting at Guiscard that afternoon 
 the German advance was satisfied to draw off and 
 leave us alone. 
 
 I spent the morning running to Noyon and back, 
 and later took a couple of G.H.Q. staff officers to 
 a chateau near Cuts, south-east of Noyon, where 
 General Smith-Dorrien had his headquarters. Ar- 
 riving at the chateau, which was a very handsome 
 one, I found my car short of lubricating oil. In my 
 endeavour to borrow some I drew an undue amount 
 of attention to my improvised uniform, which had 
 not improved in appearance. My efforts might 
 have proved fruitless but for the fact that General 
 
"PROPER REARGUARDS" 61 
 
 Smith-Dorrien came out at the moment. He 
 stepped into a big car, and was about to be driven 
 away when he saw me. Bowing, he asked me with 
 a smile how I was standing the campaign. Consid- 
 ering the circumstances under which I had met him 
 a couple of days before, and the short time I had 
 been in his company, I was surprised he remembered 
 me, and naturally felt the warm and genial touch of 
 his recognition. As he drove away, the lubricating 
 oil which I had begged in vain before was there- 
 after immediately forthcoming. 
 
 On our run to Cuts, through the Forest of 
 Laigue, we had passed many transport trains on 
 the move to or from rail bases. Every nerve was 
 strained to get the 2nd Corps mobilised, rested, fed, 
 and well supplied with ammunition at the earliest 
 possible moment. A 2nd Corps staff officer told me 
 -that the General Orders of the Day announced that 
 a Division or more of the enemy were advancing 
 from St. Quentin to Noyon, and that the cavalry, 
 which had been fighting rearguard actions since 
 Mons, had orders once more to block the way. A 
 subaltern in charge of an ammunition column 
 begged for news. I asked him if he had seen any- 
 thing of interest. He said: " It has been interest- 
 ing enough for me. My column has had four 
 hours' sleep in three days in addition to what they 
 could snatch here and there on the move. No 
 sooner had I got them to one place in response to 
 orders which it seemed impossible to carry out, than 
 I have been cursed for getting them there, and hur- 
 ried away to some other point to find someone wait- 
 ing for me there with more cuss words. I am a 
 wandering Jew, for ever on the move, and don't 
 
62 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 ever expect to stop again as long as I live." 
 
 While at General Smith-Dorrien's headquarters 
 I was introduced to General H. de B. de Lisle, com- 
 manding the 2nd Cavalry Brigade. General de 
 Lisle wanted to get back to his command. He had 
 come for a conference with General Smith-Dorrien. 
 We ran- to Guiscard or near it. The 2nd Cavalry 
 Brigade had been attacked at nine o'clock in the 
 morning at some point to the north of Guiscard. 
 The position not being as satisfactory as desired, 
 de Lisle had retired from Guiscard at eleven o'clock 
 to a point about two and a half kilometres south of 
 the town. There, with the support of the guns, 
 which they had lacked in the position further north, 
 they withstood the German attack for over two 
 hours, and eventually compelled the Germans to 
 retire. We passed a couple of lorry loads of 
 wounded before reaching the 2nd Cavalry Brigade. 
 I had not before had an opportunity of coming 
 into contact with the British cavalry, which had 
 been performing wonderful feats of valour, and 
 whose existence for the past week had been one 
 continual rearguard action. I was much impressed 
 with their splendid quality throughout. I heard 
 that afternoon of a couple of magnificent cavalry 
 actions of the day before by General Gough's 3rd 
 Cavalry Brigade and General Chetwode's 5th Cav- 
 alry Brigade between St. Quentin and Le Fere. 
 They had met and routed a couple of columns of 
 German cavalry, and demonstrated their absolute 
 superiority as cavalry over the enemy's mounted 
 forces. That the 2nd Cavalry Brigade should have 
 fought so successful an action when dismounted, 
 
"PROPER REARGUARDS" 63 
 
 after the splendid mounted work that it and its fel- 
 low Brigades had been doing for days past, showed 
 its marvellous adaptability. A staff officer came by 
 and told us that heavy fighting had taken place on 
 Von Kluck's right and left flanks, the French being 
 driven back in the west and having held their own 
 in the east. 
 
 The 2nd Cavalry Brigade was billeted that night 
 at Ourscamps, a village a few kilometres south of 
 Noyon. I drove General de Lisle and Captain 
 "Rattle" Barrett (15th Hussars), who was de 
 Lisle's staff captain, about the village and the 
 grounds of the old chateau, selecting bivouacs for 
 the three regiments of the Brigade — the 4th Dra- 
 goon Guards, the 9th Lancers, and the 18th Hus- 
 sars. In the beautiful summer evening we watched a 
 long-drawn-out fight between a German aeroplane 
 and two British aeroplanes which were chasing it 
 back to the north. Apparently the faster British 
 plane was the speediest of the trio, but the German 
 was clever in his manoeuvring. We could see puffs of 
 smoke from time to time as one or other of the 
 airmen fired. They wheeled and dipped and dived, 
 circling now up and now down, drawing steadily 
 away, until they finally passed out of sight. We 
 would have given much to have known the result 
 of the contest. 
 
 I compared notes with one and another of the 
 cavalry officers who had been in closest and most 
 continuous touch with the enemy from the beginning. 
 
 Haig's 1st Corps, they agreed, had the best op- 
 portunity to get away without heavy loss, as the 
 brunt of the German attack was further west, on 
 Smith-Dorrien's 2nd Corps. The splendid fight put 
 
64 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 up by Smith-Dorrien's threatened left saved it from 
 casualties to a greater extent than was yet realised. 
 
 How comparatively few casualties had been in- 
 flicted by Von Kluck's smashing attack we did not 
 know until the official reports told us that on the 
 retreat and the advance to the Marne the total for 
 the three Corps and the Cavalry division was 64 
 officers and 212 men killed, 1,223 °f a ^ ranks 
 wounded, and 13,643 missing, and most of them of 
 course either killed or wounded, and not unwounded 
 prisoners. Only 15,142 from a force of over 100,- 
 000. When one takes from that number the casu- 
 alty lists of Audregnies, Landrecies, Guiscard, 
 Nery, the fighting near Villers-Cotteret, La Ferte 
 Jouarre, and the conflicts that took place near the 
 Grand Morin, Petit Morin, and the Marne itself, 
 one realises that Sir John French's Army not only 
 escaped annihilation at Mons and Cambrai-Le 
 Cateau, it escaped great loss, and that in the face 
 of circumstances which made it seem impossible it 
 could do so. At least, it seemed impossible to us, 
 a day or so later, that it had done so. 
 
 Sordet's cutting in on the left of the line at 
 Cambrai with his guns, and letting us get away 
 from the Cambrai-Le Cateau line, was freely com- 
 mented on by the cavalry. They knew how greatly 
 Sordet's cavalry had helped us. 
 
 Most engrossing to me was meeting those who 
 had been last in St. Quentin. On Wednesday, the 
 26th, the great battle of Cambrai-Le Cateau had 
 been fought. Thursday I spent in St. Quentin, 
 leaving it in the afternoon, when reports of oncom- 
 ing Germans within a couple of kilometres of the 
 
"PROPER REARGUARDS" 65 
 
 town were brought in by both French and English 
 scouts. 
 
 Friday I had spent in Noyon. The cavalry had 
 been in and about St. Quentin most of that day. 
 The German occupation of the town had been de- 
 layed until nearly every straggler who reached it 
 from the north, if not all, had been gotten away. 
 
 Major Tom Bridges, of the 4th Dragoon Guards, 
 had been sent into St. Quentin on Friday afternoon 
 to see if more stragglers could be found. In the 
 square near the Mairie he found a couple of hun- 
 dred or more men of various detachments, who 
 were seated on the pavement in complete exhaus- 
 tion and utter resignation to what appeared their 
 inability to rejoin the army which had retreated far 
 to the southward. 
 
 They, too, expected the Germans momentarily. 
 A couple of half-crazed, irresponsible chaps had 
 preached some rot to them that made them think 
 themselves abandoned to their fate. Bridges needed 
 but a moment to see how far gone they were, how 
 utterly and hopelessly fatigued. No peremptory 
 order, no gentle request, no clever cajolery would 
 suffice. With most of them the power to move 
 seemed to themselves to have gone with ceaseless 
 tramping, without food or sleep, for the thirty-six 
 hours past. 
 
 A brilliant idea came to the big, genial major. 
 Entering a toy shop, he bought a toy drum and a 
 penny whistle. He strapped the little drum to his 
 belt. 
 
 " Can you play ' The British Grenadiers ' ? " he 
 asked his trumpeter. 
 
 " Sure, sir," was the reply. 
 
66 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 In a twinkling the pair were marching round the 
 square, the high treble of the tiny toy whistle rising 
 clear and shrill. " But of all the world's brave 
 heroes, There's none that can compare, With a tow, 
 row, row, with a tow, row, row, To the British 
 Grenadiers." 
 
 Round they came, the trumpeter, caught on the 
 wings of the Major's enthusiasm, putting his very 
 heart and soul into every inspiring note. 
 
 Bridges, supplying the comic relief with the small 
 sticks in his big hands, banged away on the drum 
 like mad. 
 
 They reached the recumbent group. They passed 
 its tired length. Now they came to the last man. 
 Will they feel the spirit of the straining notes, rich 
 with the tradition of the grand old air? Will they 
 catch the spirit of the big-hearted Major, who 
 knows so well just how the poor lads feel, and seeks 
 that spot of humour in Tommy's make-up that has 
 so often proved his very salvation? 
 
 The spark has caught! Some with tears in their 
 eyes, some with a roar of laughter, jump to their 
 feet and fall in. The weary feet, sore and bruised, 
 tramp the hard cobbles unconscious of their pain. 
 Stiffened limbs answer to call of newly-awakened 
 wills. 
 
 " With a tow, row, row, with a tow, row, row, to 
 the British Grenadiers." They are singing it now, 
 as they file in long column down the street after the 
 big form hammering the toy drum, and his panting 
 trumpeter " blowing his head off " beside him. 
 
 "Go on, Colonel! We'll follow you to hell," 
 sings out a brawny Irishman behind who can just 
 hobble along on his torn feet. 
 
"PROPER REARGUARDS" 67 
 
 Never a man of all the lot was left behind. 
 
 Down the road, across the bridge, mile after mile 
 towards Roye. The trumpeter, blown, subsides for 
 a while, then, refreshed, takes up the burden of the 
 noble tune again. 
 
 At last Tom Bridges turned and said: "Now, 
 boys, ahead of you is a town where you can get 
 food and drink and a bit of rest before you go on. 
 It isn't far. Good luck! " 
 
 But not they. They were not going to lose their 
 new-found patron. Clamour rose, shrill and eager. 
 " Don't leave us, Colonel," they begged. " Don't, 
 for God's sake, leave us! They all left us but you. 
 We'll follow you anywhere, but where to go when 
 you leave we don't know at all." 
 
 So Bridges toiled on to Roye with them, got them 
 food and billets, turned them over to someone who 
 would see they got on to their commands in some 
 way, and went back to duty with his regiment, ar- 
 riving at two o'clock in the morning. 
 
 Big Tom Bridges! Indeed, he had more than 
 once earned the name, but never more gallantly and 
 wisely than on that afternoon in August in the tur- 
 moil of the great retreat. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 INTO THE GERMAN LINES 
 
 On Sunday, the 30th, I rose early and put in a busy 
 morning in Compiegne on messenger work, at noon 
 time returning to G.H.Q. for further orders. The 
 day was frightfully hot, the sky a very clear blue, 
 quite pale in the heat. In a group under a shady 
 tree I found Captain Kirkwood, good fellow and 
 soldier of fortune, who had been in South Africa, 
 big game shooting, when the war cloud gathered 
 over Europe. Hurrying back, he reached Paris in 
 the early days of the retreat, and after some diffi- 
 culty managed, owing to the fact that he was an ex- 
 officer of British cavalry, to get permission to re- 
 port himself to Sir John French's Headquarters. 
 At first it seemed unlikely that he would be given a 
 chance to join up with the Expeditionary Force, but 
 he had been told that morning that if he would re- 
 port to General de Lisle he would be given work to 
 do as a Captain of the 4th Dragoon Guards, who 
 had lost heavily in officers. Kirkwood was in a 
 quandary, wondering how he could obtain trans- 
 portation from Sir John French's Headquarters in 
 Compiegne to General de Lisle's Headquarters, 
 wherever they might be. This was an undertaking 
 that bristled with difficulties owing to the scarcity 
 of motor-cars. 
 
 He told me his troubles, and I at once saw an 
 opportunity to be released from more prosaic duty 
 
 68 
 
INTO THE GERMAN LINES 69 
 
 at Compiegne, obtain a run up to the front, and 
 possibly see something of the rearguard fighting. 
 
 A brief explanation of the situation to Major 
 Bartholomew, one of the officers in charge of the 
 motor-cars attached to Headquarters Staff, was 
 sufficient to obtain permission to take Captain Kirk- 
 wood to 2nd Cavalry Brigade Headquarters. 
 Knowing that the 2nd Cavalry Brigade had billeted 
 the night before in Ourscamps, I thought our most 
 interesting plan would be to run to Ourscamps and 
 then beat south along the road they had taken to 
 reach the Compiegne-Soissons line. 
 
 I had gathered at G.H.Q. that the whole of the 
 British Force was to fall back on the Aisne. Some 
 rumour was about which told of a conference be- 
 tween General Joffre and Sir John French on the 
 Saturday afternoon, and that the advantage gained 
 on our right by the French 5th Army was to count 
 for naught as the whole line was to retire not only 
 on our immediate right, but away to the east where 
 the German centre was dealing sledge-like blows in 
 an effort to hammer through the French centre. 
 Though we did not know it, that Sunday morning 
 was to witness the German occupation of La Fere 
 and Laon to the east of it. The retreat of the Brit- 
 ish Expeditionary Force had begun again, as had 
 the consequent advance of the Germans. It was 
 difficult for us, at that time, to understand the lull 
 in the operations of the 27th and 28th of August, 
 and the renewal of the chase on the 29th and 30th. 
 It was long before we realised that the operations 
 on the British front during those days were of slight 
 importance relatively, when compared with the 
 great battles that were taking place to the east- 
 
70 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 ward. Naturally we were entirely concerned with 
 our immediate surroundings, and the fact that the 
 whole line to the westward had to move back to 
 conform with the stubbornly-resisted advance of the 
 Germans bearing down on Rheims and Chalons was 
 as yet unknown to us. 
 
 I started off gaily for Ourscamps with Kirkwood 
 just after midday. 
 
 Some cheerful individual had assured me that the 
 French cavalry were still at Noyon, and I had taken 
 his word for it with childlike simplicity. 
 
 Running to Choisy, we crossed the Oise, and, 
 gaining its western bank, passed through Ribecourt. 
 Pushing on with a clear road and invigorating sun- 
 shine to spur us, it would take but a few minutes to 
 cover the eight kilometres to Noyon. The pave of 
 the main road was in such bad state of repair that 
 a temporary path had been utilised under the trees 
 by the roadside. It was rough, but not so bad as 
 the pave, except that here and there great ditches 
 made one pull up rather sharply. 
 
 Groups of country folk along the highway waved 
 us on. Once Kirkwood remarked that we had best 
 be careful, as we were surely running very close to 
 enemy country, but I thought we were certain to 
 have warning from the country folk if any German 
 had been seen in the vicinity. No sooner had I ex- 
 pressed an opinion to this effect, than a peasant at 
 the roadside, a bright-eyed, bent, little old chap, in- 
 dulged in a lively pantomine in an endeavour to at- 
 tract our attention. As I was running well over 
 forty miles per hour I required a few yards for 
 stopping, the little man in the meantime using the 
 fore fingers of each hand to describe as best he 
 
INTO THE GERMAN LINES 71 
 
 might above his head the appearance of the Uhlans' 
 horned helmets, and alternating this bit of sign lan- 
 guage with unmistakable motions indicating pointed 
 moustaches of the Kaiser type. As we slowed down 
 he ran to us, and in answer to Kirkwood's questions, 
 informed us that the Uhlans were just ahead of us. 
 I suppose we looked somewhat incredulous, and 
 the idea may have come to him that he had not 
 sufficiently explained himself, for again he went 
 through his antics, picturing the pointed moustaches 
 and the horned Uhlan helmets. As he was some- 
 what incoherent, we beckoned to another peasant, 
 who approached and told us quietly and with great 
 conviction that thirty Uhlan had but a few moments 
 before passed along the road in the direction in 
 which we were travelling. This was alarming in- 
 formation. If we had run sufficiently far into the 
 German lines for Uhlan patrols to be passing 
 along the road in both directions, there was great 
 possibility that we would not again see Compiegne. 
 
 As an American in khaki the Huns might be ex- 
 pected to make short work of me if I fell into their 
 hands. My uniform, procured at a few hours' 
 notice from a London theatrical costumier, was of 
 a nondescript sort, not calculated to insure my be- 
 ing treated by the Germans as a member in good 
 standing of the British Army. 
 
 I had good reason, therefore, to wish to avoid 
 capture at all costs. 
 
 The point at which we had stopped was but very 
 few kilometres from Noyon, and at that point the 
 road from Passel joined the main pike, giving me 
 ample opportunity to turn the car without backing it. 
 
 While we were talking with our informants a 
 
72 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 mounted Uhlan rode out in full view in the road- 
 way ahead of us, not more than 500 yards dis- 
 tant. He halted and apparently called to his com- 
 panions under the trees by the roadside, for a dozen 
 joined him immediately. For a moment they made 
 no movement, inspecting us with the greatest in- 
 terest. Kirkwood had got out of the car to have a 
 look with his glasses and to make sure that they 
 were foes and not friends. I swung the car around 
 in a twinkling and Kirkwood jumped to his seat with 
 a remark that the Uhlans were on the way. 
 
 We flew back over the road, a cloud of dust ris- 
 ing behind us. A few shots were fired. The car 
 clattering over the terribly broken road made such 
 a din one could hear little else. All sorts of pos- 
 sibilities passed through our minds. A puncture or 
 a burst tyre would have meant a wheel pounded to 
 pieces in no time : another Uhlan scouting party on 
 either side of the road was more than probable and 
 might have spelled disaster. All went merrily, how- 
 ever, and we were in Ribecourt again almost before 
 we knew it. My forehead was covered with perspi- 
 ration — in anticipation, I suppose. At Ribecourt 
 we met a British officer in a car and a motor-cyclist 
 with him, from our Intelligence Department. They 
 were bound for Lassigny. We warned them in due 
 time and they proceeded cautiously by a side road, 
 tq the west of the point at which we had encountered 
 the Uhlans. 
 
 Leaving Ribecourt we passed a British cavalry 
 patrol of eight troopers. We again reported the 
 presence of the Uhlan outpost on the main road. 
 The sergeant in command of the patrol told us that 
 in Chiry, a town between Ribecourt and Passel and 
 
INTO THE GERMAN LINES 73 
 
 only a quarter of a mile or less to the west of the 
 main road, the Uhlans had been quartered in some 
 strength all the morning. The patrol had been in 
 the woods not far from Chiry watching the Uhlans 
 for an hour or more, and in their opinion there were 
 at least 200 of them in and about the town. That 
 we should have thus rushed past so large a force 
 and come back again without their intercepting us 
 was a matter of pure luck, and turned what might 
 have been a serious matter for us into an amusing 
 adventure. We must have been within but a few 
 hundred yards of them both going and coming. 
 
 We had, beyond a doubt, been well within the 
 German advance line, and out again without being 
 in the least the worse for it. 
 
 Crossing the Oise we ran to Le Plessis and Brion, 
 and there encountered a party of French engineers 
 who were waiting to blow up a line. They told us 
 all the bridges were destroyed south of Noyon. We 
 met one of our own engineer officers who told us 
 that the Ourscamps bridge was blown up early that 
 morning. If we had planned a hasty retreat by the 
 route originally selected we would have been nicely 
 caught in a trap. 
 
 I gained some information as to the obstacles we 
 were putting in the way of the advancing Germans 
 by destroying railways and bridges. Everything in 
 the nature of a bridge which could be destroyed had 
 been rendered impassable. This had no inconsid- 
 erable effect on checking the impetuosity of the Ger- 
 man forward movement. 
 
 We ran to G.H.Q., and I reported the fact that the 
 Uhlans were well south of Noyon. We again took 
 the road for 2nd Cavalry Brigade Headquarters, 
 
74 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 planning to run through the Forest of Laigue to 
 Tracy-le-Mont. At the fork where the roads for 
 Noyon and Soissons branch a handsome Rolls- 
 Royce landaulette was piled up against a telegraph 
 pole at the side of the road; Jimmy Rothschild was 
 standing despondently beside it. Approaching the 
 fork, Jimmy had suddenly been confronted by a 
 French sentry, who had emerged from the under- 
 growth and called upon the approaching motorist to 
 halt, at the same time throwing his rifle to his shoul- 
 der and pointing it very directly, so Jimmy said, at 
 the driver — who happened to be Jimmy. Realising 
 that he must stop at all costs, he turned the car to 
 the roadside, where the front axle struck the tele- 
 graph pole — with dire results. We took everything 
 removable from the car, piled it into a cart, sent it 
 to Compiegne, and, taking Rothschild in the back, 
 we started again for Tracy-le-Mont. We were told 
 the forest was full of Uhlan scouts, who had been 
 seen crossing the road, but we were apparently in 
 quite as much danger from Jimmy Rothschild's 
 Mauser pistol, which he loaded and carried at the 
 " ready," until both Kirkwood and I demanded that 
 he should keep it pointed in the direction of the 
 enemy rather than towards the back of our heads. 
 
 Down some of the long wooded aisles we could 
 see moping horsemen in the afternoon light. If 
 they were Uhlans they were undoubtedly quite as 
 shy of meeting us as we were of encountering them. 
 We passed French soldiers in trenches along the 
 way, ready and waiting for the oncoming enemy. 
 
 Tracy was a beautiful place. There we found 
 our cavalry, and passed squadron after squadron 
 and battery after battery of guns on the way south- 
 
INTO THE GERMAN LINES 75 
 
 ward to Attichy. From Attichy we doubled back 
 to the village of Vieux Moulin on the south of the 
 Aisne where we found General de Lisle. 
 
 My run back to Compiegne was made in quick 
 time as I had been told on leaving Headquarters 
 that G.H.Q. was to be moved at 10 o'clock to Vil- 
 lers Cotteret. At 10 o'clock, however, orders were 
 changed, and we stayed in Compiegne. Someone 
 had annexed my room in the hotel, so I sought the 
 cot in the college where I had slept my first night 
 in Compiegne. I was alone in the dormitory and 
 overslept. I turned out on the morning of Monday, 
 the 31st, at half past seven and found everyone at- 
 tached to G.H.Q. gone, except one or two tardy 
 ones. G.H.Q. took " some watching " in those days. 
 If one turned around it was likely to disappear to 
 the southward. Picking up a couple of staff offi- 
 cers as passengers I was soon headed for Senlis, 
 en route for Dammartin, the next town to which 
 G.H.Q. was to lend the dignity of its presence. 
 Near Senlis we went by columns of French infantry. 
 For the first time during the campaign I saw the 
 sturdy little French foot soldiers on the march. 
 With a goodly interval between each company, in 
 loose marching order they scattered all over the 
 road. Their heavy kits included the inevitable tin 
 pots packed on their backs. It seemed cruel to garb a 
 soldier in such clothes on a hot day. I little realised 
 how much I was to admire them before the end of 
 the campaign. None of us knew what we were yet 
 to owe to the French Army, and in what high re- 
 gard we were one day to hold it. Near St. Vaast 
 the road wound upwards through the woods. All 
 the way up the ascent we passed the toiling legion 
 
76 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 in long blue coats over heavy red breeches, patter- 
 ing along, uncomplaining, always on the move, cov- 
 ering the ground with most wonderful rapidity in 
 what seemed to me a most unorthodox manner of 
 doing so. From Senlis to Dammartin we skirted 
 the Forest of Ermonville, running through wonder- 
 fully beautiful country. Here a silver-clad hillside, 
 there a rare chateau, and by it a lovely village. 
 Evidences of war were there, carts full of refugees 
 generally so occupying the road that one had little 
 space for passing. I had a fast run and arrived at 
 Dammartin in advance of G.H.Q. 
 
 The parts of my car known to the mechanically- 
 minded as universal joints needed grease. Nice ac- 
 cessible things, universal joints. Taking my car to 
 a point on the road where I seemed sure of isola- 
 tion for a time, I crawled under the brute, and with 
 many irrelevant remarks proceeded to unlace the 
 leather boots which covered the parts to be doc- 
 tored. Plastering them with what part of the soft 
 grease I could keep from dropping down into my 
 eyes, I at last, sweating at every pore, and " fed 
 up " with chauffeuring, rested, self-satisfied with my 
 conscientious efforts. Then I tried to withdraw 
 from beneath the car. There was the rub. I lay 
 head down, the curb preventing escape on the lower 
 side. I was so nice a fit between the bottom of the 
 step and the paving-stones, that to riggle up-hill on 
 my back was impossible. Consequently, after fruit- 
 less labours to extricate myself, I lay for half-an- 
 hour until a couple of doughty Scots passed. When 
 they had recovered sufficiently from the humour of 
 the situation, they put down their rifles, and each 
 taking firm hold of a leg hauled me forth, even 
 
INTO THE GERMAN LINES 77 
 
 more disreputable in appearance than before. 
 
 A French limousine car reached Dammartin, an 
 object lesson for timid motor drivers thereabouts. 
 It was riddled with bullet-holes and the seats were 
 covered with blood. Four Frenchmen were coming 
 from Montdidier to Compiegne that morning and 
 were ambushed by Uhlans along the road. The 
 driver was shot through the body, but managed to 
 keep the wheel and get the car well away to safety 
 a mile or so further on, when he succumbed to his 
 wounds. Beside him his brother had been shot 
 dead. Taking the driver's place when he collapsed, 
 one of the occupants of the car had brought it on 
 to our Headquarters — a gory spectacle. 
 
 An engineer officer told me of a little tragedy in 
 his corps. Two R.E. officers and half-a-dozen men 
 had been sent back to blow up a bridge near Com- 
 piegne. They set rapidly about their work, and 
 were but half through it when a volley from cover 
 near by hit the officers and five of the men, one only 
 escaping. 
 
 Jimmy Radley, in describing what he called a 
 " real day's work," incidentally showed of what 
 value the motor-car has become in military opera- 
 tions. 
 
 On the day before — Sunday — he had taken a 
 staff officer from Compiegne to Soissons, and thence 
 as far north as Laon. Pushing still north to 
 Nouvion, near La Fere, they reached the Head- 
 quarters of the French General commanding the 
 extreme French left. There they learned that the 
 big fight at Guise had been followed by severe fight- 
 ing at Renansart and Mayot, not far to the north- 
 ward. In spite of the report that the Germans were 
 
78 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 even then coming into La Fere, in order to get to 
 St. Gobain, Jimmy's staff officer dashed through 
 Danizy and past La Fere, sighting no Germans, 
 though evidently all but in touch with them. Next 
 they visited Coucy-le-Ctateau, en route for Soissons. 
 At Coucy they were warned that Uhlans had been 
 seen at Bagneux, some distance south. The Sois- 
 sons road was the line of retreat of our ist Corps, 
 and passage of it was difficult. From Soissons, the 
 car turned northward again, and for the second time 
 visited Laon, soon to be evacuated in the face of the 
 rapid German advance. The road from Soissons 
 to Laon was full of Belgian soldiers and refugees 
 from Namur. Leaving Laon, Radley sped south 
 to Bourg, then through Braisnes, back to Soissons, 
 and finally home to Compiegne, his starting-point. 
 Truly, work enough for one day. 
 
 Some charming French folk insisted most hospita- 
 bly upon my joining them at dejeuner, which in 
 Dammartin was all the more a blessing as the sole 
 village inn was unspeakably dirty and uninviting — 
 an exceptional French hostelry. 
 
 Continuous work at high speed had depleted my 
 stock of spare tyres. I found myself without one 
 remaining spare cover or tube. As none were avail- 
 able about Headquarters nor seemed likely to be, 
 and the Gates of Paris were less than thirty kilo- 
 metres distant, I asked permission to run to Paris 
 that evening to replenish my stock of pneumatics 
 and return before daybreak. I was told that no of- 
 ficial permission could be granted, but that I would 
 not be required before morning if I chose to take 
 upon myself the responsibility of the journey. 
 Prince Murat, who was at that time attached as a 
 
INTO THE GERMAN LINES 79 
 
 French soldier interpreter to G.H.Q., was anxious 
 to run into town to get his motor-car, and I gladly 
 agreed that he should bear me company. We 
 reached Paris by dusk, passing a number of French 
 troops scattered here and there in the towns on the 
 way. We were frequently challenged, and, in fact, 
 through some districts went pass in hand. At first 
 sight, Paris seemed quite unaffected by the proximity 
 of the fighting, but as dusk came on, and we entered 
 the central part of the city, it assumed a very differ- 
 ent aspect. A visit to the Invalides obtained an 
 order for the necessary covers and tubes from the 
 French War Office. Armed with the official order 
 for our requirements we repaired to the Grand 
 Palais d'Automobiles, which was the supply depot 
 for all motor requisites. We found the great hall 
 full of cars, and plentiful supplies of tyres and 
 petrol available. All was bustle and hurry, but 
 every deference was paid to our requests, and we 
 were soon supplied with our needs. It was dark by 
 this time, and headlights were denied us. Paris at 
 night in war time was no place for a motor-car. A 
 visit to Murat's flat in the Avenue de Monceau ne- 
 cessitated a journey that more than once nearly 
 proved my undoing. How I escaped the excava- 
 tions in the streets, which seemed for ever to be in 
 front and upon all sides of me, I never knew. As 
 we returned, the great semaphore arms of the 
 searchlights on the tops of some of the buildings 
 down town waved back and forth across the inky 
 sky. We reached the Ritz with a sigh of relief, and 
 sat down to a civilised dinner. Only eight or nine 
 tables in the dining-room were occupied. The 
 Spanish Ambassador was at one table and Sir 
 
80 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 Francis Bertie, the English Ambassador, at another. 
 I had a chat with Sir Francis, telling him some gen- 
 eral news of the retreat, and obtaining from him 
 some idea of the general operations in return. He 
 told me that the day before bombs had been 
 dropped on Paris from German aeroplanes, and a 
 couple of people had been reported killed thereby. 
 At one table was a group of Americans in golf 
 clothes. 
 
 Paris was rife with rumours. Two French staff 
 officers told of a big engagement on that day, but 
 they had no details. At ten o'clock I suggested re- 
 turning to Dammartin, but Murat and other French 
 friends declared that such a project would be sui- 
 cidal. It was bad enough, they argued, to traverse 
 the roads inside the fortifications in the day time. 
 French Reservist sentries were a bit jumpy at that 
 season. One of my French staff officer acquaint- 
 ances retailed a story of one of the Reservist 
 sentries who had turned out a whole regiment to 
 meet the onslaught of a German force, which 
 proved to be an inoffensive herd of cows, two of 
 which the sentry had accounted for before the ar- 
 rival of reinforcements. Yielding to pressure of 
 sound counsel, I ran out to Murat's flat and ac- 
 cepted his hospitality for the night. We would 
 have enjoyed the picture of the continually playing 
 searchlights but for the game of hide-and-seek be- 
 tween excavations and hoardings along the boule- 
 vards in the pitch darkness. 
 
 On the morning of Tuesday, September ist, I 
 was away with the first light. Many features of 
 daily Parisian life were in quite normal evidence. 
 The streets were being washed as usual, and the 
 
INTO THE GERMAN LINES 81 
 
 early morning market carts were rolling along in 
 quite their customary leisurely fashion. Crowds of 
 people were already surging to the railway stations. 
 Cabs or such conveyances were notable by their ab- 
 sence. Sentries along the road, particularly at rail- 
 way crossings or bridges, looked me over interest- 
 edly, and once or twice stopped me to afford closer 
 inspection but peculiarly enough, I was not required 
 to show a pass of any sort until I was quite 18 kilo- 
 metres out of Paris. The 6th Corps under 
 Maunoury was already beginning to move north- 
 ward from Paris, and the road was lined with 
 marching troops. Reservists were busy digging 
 trenches here and there, and I heard and saw the 
 smoke of one or two explosions where houses were 
 being cleared away to afford a better line of fire 
 for the guns around Paris. Further north, through 
 towns in which French troops were garrisoned, my 
 pass was in constant demand. In one small village 
 I had to show it to three different sentries. 
 
 Arriving at Dammartin I found Sir John 
 French's Headquarters were in a quaint little 
 chateau faced by a circular drive lined with beds 
 of beautiful flowers. G.H.Q. offcers were located 
 in the coachhouses and the adjoining servants' 
 quarters of the chateau. Outside the gates, in a 
 lane of truly rural appearance and dimensions, were 
 all sorts of motor-cars. G.H.Q. was just turning 
 out when I drove up, officers and men busying them- 
 selves with hurried toilets in whatever receptacle 
 they could find that would hold water. All asked 
 eagerly of news from Paris. 
 
 I called at the G.H.Q. Post Office for a letter, 
 and Major Warren, in charge of all questions re- 
 
82 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 lating to the post, delivered a homily on the disap- 
 pointments and delays in that department. Letters 
 had arrived the night before which had been posted 
 in London fourteen days previously. Letters out- 
 bound from the Expeditionary Force were hrst care- 
 fully censored and had most of their contents de- 
 leted. Once prepared for despatch they awaited a 
 supply train, and were then taken to our supply 
 base, sometimes a day or two after being turned in 
 to G.H.Q. At the supply base they were again 
 censored, subsequently to proceed leisurely to the 
 rail base. There they were censored once more. 
 They were then considered ripe to be forwarded to 
 England. 
 
 On arrival in London they were held for four or 
 five days to ensure that any news they might con- 
 tain would be sure to be stale. This procedure we 
 accepted as a matter of course without complaint. 
 We had little time for letter writing and little de- 
 sire to transmit any information except the news as 
 to our bodily welfare. I was not nearly so much 
 concerned with what manner of communication I 
 could send to England as with the failure to obtain 
 news from London. The short notice which pre- 
 ceded my departure made me all the more anxious 
 to obtain word from home, but I was destined to 
 be a long time without it. One authentic story that 
 I heard during the retreat, re the Censor, is quite 
 worth repeating. The address which we were re- 
 quired to give to our friends at home was simply 
 General Headquarters, British Expeditionary 
 Force. If we indited this cabalistic formula on the 
 outside of an envelope containing a letter to Eng- 
 land the communication was instantly destroyed. 
 
INTO THE GERMAN LINES 83 
 
 If we headed a letter with this superscription it was 
 torn off. If we embodied the address in the body 
 of the letter, however, it was let through. One 
 day a number of us were comparing experiences and 
 these facts were undeniably set forth and evidence 
 produced as to their authenticity. 
 
 We would have given much to have had the 
 Censor present at that seance, and to have expressed 
 to him, collectively and individually, our opinion as 
 to his methods. 
 
 The early part of the morning I spent watching 
 a never-ending stream of supply lorries and am- 
 munition wagons. Dozens and dozens and dozens 
 of wagons of horse transport passed through the 
 town. For half an hour I was engrossed with the 
 field wireless service, which was working steadily. 
 A Scottish company was guarding a Silesian officer, 
 who had a wound in his right arm. He was a fine- 
 looking young fellow in a smart grey uniform and 
 handsome grey shako. 
 
 At 10 o'clock I met an officer who wanted to ob- 
 tain conveyance to Soissons to join the 3rd Cavalry 
 Brigade. I expected to find that the Germans had 
 crossed the Aisne and were south of Soissons, but 
 I offered to run up that way. I was anxious to see 
 what was happening to Haig's Corps. We ran by 
 way of Nanteuil to Betz. 
 
 The refugees along the road were pitiable. A 
 handsome girl, well dressed, rode by on her bicycle 
 sobbing bitterly. Loads of women in farm carts 
 went by crying. One mother with her baby asked 
 anxiously for news of the Germans. When told they 
 were undoubtedly moving southward she made a 
 strenuous effort to be brave. The baby raised its 
 
84 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 little hand, and touched her face and cooed to her. 
 Kissing it fondly, she burst into torrents of tears. 
 The women had heard such stories of German 
 atrocities that they were well-nigh frantic. There 
 was no complaint and no reviling of tKe British for 
 dropping back, but it was clear that many of the 
 poor folk could not understand the continual re- 
 treat. There seemed no end of the refugees, cart- 
 load after cartload passing by filled with women. 
 It was indeed rare that we saw a man among the 
 refugees. 
 
 A light touch was given by a gracious lady and 
 her young son, who were just about to depart from 
 Betz in their motor-car. With true French polite- 
 ness she explained to us that she wished to give her 
 chateau to the British in case it would be of use to 
 them. The likelihood that night would find the 
 Germans in it made this seem almost a joke. 
 
 We started for Villers Cotteret for lunch, and 
 shortly after one o'clock reached the outskirts of 
 Ivor. Heavy rifle firing could be heard in front, 
 and the enemy was evidently well south of Villers. 
 A bitter fight was in progress in the woods in front 
 of us. The 4th Guards Brigade were hard at it. 
 They suffered severe losses, although they scored 
 off the Germans in the hand-to-hand fighting in the 
 forest. 
 
 Giving up the idea of going to Villers, we worked 
 southward, passing the 5th Brigade of the 2nd Divi- 
 sion, consisting of Worcesters, Highland Light In- 
 fantry, and Connaught Rangers. It was a hot day, 
 and the Tommies were very tired and feeling the 
 heat. The enemy were not many kilometres behind 
 and pressing on rapidly. We found the Germans 
 
INTO THE GERMAN LINES 85 
 
 had been in Crepy for some hours, and were mov- 
 ing south in considerable strength. Our rearguards 
 were in position between Betz and Crepy. 
 
 Having delivered the officer as near to his com- 
 mand as possible, I called at General Haig's Head- 
 quarters at Mareuil, a town on the Ourcq, to see if 
 I could take back a message to Dammartin. It was 
 evening before I was again on the road. Running 
 south on the Meaux road, I found it filled with 
 refugees in all sorts of vehicles. Big wagons half 
 loaded with straw and piled with country folk am- 
 bled along, pulled by four oxen. Hordes of women 
 and children were walking, trudging along in the 
 dust beside heavily-laden vehicles. 
 
 I arrived at Dammartin just after 7 o'clock, and 
 while waiting outside G.H.Q. encountered Captain 
 O'Mahoney, of the Army Service Corps. He had 
 been captured by the Germans, and made good his 
 escape. I gathered some of the details from him, 
 but he was so sleepy, that to obtain a careful account 
 of his experiences was difficult. After awakening 
 him three or four times as he sat in my car telling 
 me the story, I gave it up as a bad job and let him 
 slumber in peace. 
 
 The incident of O'Mahoney's escape is well 
 worth relating. I give it just as it was told by his 
 driver. 
 
 " One night we were poking along in a low-lying 
 mist. The armies were retreating, and we knew we 
 were making for the southward. I did not know 
 where we were. I was driving the captain's car, 
 and we had one chap in the tonneau with us. The 
 Captain told him to keep a good look-out behind 
 and see that the three lorries, which were following 
 
86 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 us, kept close together. We numbered about a 
 score all told, besides the Captain. He had told 
 me to go slow, as we were sure to butt against 
 French or English sentries before long, and the 
 slower we went the more likely we would be to 
 avoid trouble. We knew the enemy were not far 
 away, and heard all sorts of stories about their be- 
 ing in one town or another, close behind us or to 
 one side. We had learned by then to disbelieve 
 half what we heard. 
 
 " We crawled along with sidelights lit, without 
 headlights, as we had run out of carbide days be- 
 fore. 
 
 " The mist grew thicker and the road blacker. 
 Once or twice I thought I was off it altogether, but 
 managed to save myself and the car just in time. 
 
 " Someone sang out in front of me, and as I 
 pulled the car up I could see a sentry by the dim 
 light of the side lamp. The radiator was almost 
 touching him, and he was holding his rifle at the 
 ready. The Captain rose beside me and said, ' Eng- 
 lish,' just as I heard a voice in front saying, ' Get 
 out of that car.' 
 
 " With those five words I knew we were up 
 against it, for they were spoken with a sure-enough 
 German accent. 
 
 " I stood up, and the Captain dismounted from 
 the car. He was told to unload his pistol and hand 
 it over to a German officer who came from behind 
 the sentry. I could see several Germans by that 
 time. They were big chaps, and wore enormous 
 helmets with great spikes on the top, which made 
 them look very tall in the mist. 
 
 " I heard the engines behind us still running. The 
 
INTO THE GERMAN LINES 87 
 
 driver of one of the lorries had enough presence of 
 mind to ditch his machine. That put it out of com- 
 mission as far as the Germans were concerned, for 
 no one could bother in that sort of a night with 
 that sort of a road to pull the lorry out of the 
 mud and water. The lorry behind the one that was 
 ditched was so close to it that it had to be backed 
 to get it round. A little ingenuity got a back wheel 
 of that one into the ditch as well. That caused 
 some swearing by the Germans, but they had 
 bagged the car and one lorry and twenty-one pris- 
 oners, so I suppose they thought they had done well 
 enough. They disarmed us all, and started us off 
 by the road, surrounded by cavalry. 
 
 " I talked with the Captain about the fix we were 
 in, but he saw nothing for it but to drive on as 
 ordered. We passed at least a Division of cavalry. 
 The Captain thought we had seen four Brigades. 
 They were a fine-looking outfit, splendid horses, and 
 fine-looking men. 
 
 " At daybreak we were brought before some sort 
 of commander. The Captain was told to dismount 
 from the car, and was taken over into the field to 
 talk to the German chap, who gave him a cigarette 
 as he came up. I could hear the conversation. The 
 German spoke good enough English to pass as an 
 Englishman. 
 
 " The first thing he said was, ' Why are you 
 fighting us? 
 
 " The Captain was wise in his answer. He said, 
 1 Because I am ordered to do so.' 
 
 " ' From where were you coming when caught? 
 asked the German." 
 
 " The Captain threw back his shoulders, looked 
 
88 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 the big chap straight in the eye, and said : ' That is 
 not a fair question, sir.' 
 
 " The German smiled, but his ' Perhaps not ' 
 sounded very gruff. 
 
 " He talked a moment in German with an officer 
 by him, and, finally, turning to the Captain, said: 
 ' We do not want you with us. We are a flying 
 column and cannot be bothered with you; but we 
 shall have to keep you with us until we can hand you 
 over to the first supply train we meet. You will 
 have to accept the situation, and do your best to do 
 just as you are told, and make your movements con- 
 form with our wishes in every particular. If last 
 night had not been an occasion for the greatest 
 secrecy, the sentries would probably have fired upon 
 you instead of taking you prisoner. As it is, you 
 are an inconvenience to us, and you must bear that 
 in mind.' 
 
 " With that, the Captain came back to the car. 
 I could see he was downhearted. We moved along 
 a bit further, still surrounded by plenty of cavalry, 
 and before the sun was well up firing commenced in 
 front. I pulled up when I heard the bullets cut their 
 way through the trees overhead. A big mounted 
 chap near me pointed his lance up the road and 
 motioned to me that I had better get on. So I did. 
 No German near us at that time spoke any English, 
 or at least none would talk to us; but they had no 
 difficulty in getting me to go right on. 
 
 " The firing grew rather hot, though the bullets 
 were going pretty high. A lane led away to the 
 right, and we were chased down that and then sent 
 to the left. Finally we were made to come back 
 again, and then go still further to the left. Every 
 
INTO THE GERMAN LINES 89 
 
 little while we came into the line of fire, and more 
 than once the bullets whistled uncomfortably close 
 to us. The Captain said that it was becoming quite 
 plain to him we were being purposely exposed. 
 
 " We waited about fifteen minutes at a corner, 
 and a German officer rode up and told us in English 
 to go on down the road. The Captain spoke up 
 then, and said that he considered we were being put 
 into the way of the fire of our troops with the idea 
 of getting us shot by our own lot. The Hun officer 
 only shrugged his shoulders and gave no answer. 
 A moment later he rode back, and said, ' Give me 
 that map case.' 
 
 " The Captain replied : ' I have no objection to 
 giving up my pistol and field glasses, but when it 
 comes to taking my map case, particularly as it is 
 empty, it looks to me more like robbery than any- 
 thing else. The map case is my private property.' 
 
 " The German officer looked very sour at this, 
 and gave another shrug to his shoulders, and toss- 
 ing up his head went away mumbling something in 
 German. 
 
 " We were with a fine regiment for about half an 
 hour after this, when finally the fight drifted round 
 our way again. Someone told the Captain that the 
 British cavalry were immediately in front. Ap- 
 parently the regiment who were looking after us 
 was not expected to make a stand, for it started 
 away, a squadron at a time, at the gallop — a very 
 fine sight as they tore through the woods. 
 
 " We were taken from the car and the lorry, and 
 marched through the woods a bit, and finally put in 
 a deep ditch in charge of an officer and twelve men. 
 A stiff lot of rifle fire went over our heads. The 
 
90 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 officer in charge of us seemed a rather decent sort 
 of German, and spoke a few words of English. 
 His men were firing regularly, but were keeping 
 down behind the top of the ditch safely, so they 
 could not have been doing much damage. The Ger- 
 man came over to where the Captain was lying, and 
 sat down there for a few minutes, every little while 
 repeating two English words, which seemed about 
 the only thing he could produce in the way of talk. 
 ' Very hot, very hot,' he would say, and grin. 
 
 " The attack drifted round to the left a bit and 
 lulled down, then became more fierce again. One 
 or two bullets began to sing down the ravine rather 
 than across the top of it. We had all been safe 
 enough up to this time so long as we lay low. When 
 the firing worked round to the left, however, the 
 officer came over to the Captain and shook hands, 
 and said ' Goodbye.' He evidently did not intend 
 that all his men should leave, for only two or three 
 went with him, and then two or three more a bit 
 later. 
 
 " The Captain got it in his head that it was more 
 than likely we would be shot before the last of the 
 Germans left us, and the next few minutes of wait- 
 ing were mighty tough. The suspense nearly made 
 me ill. 
 
 " At last all the Germans had gone except one 
 evil-looking private. I never saw such a villainous 
 face on any man. No one out of the whole German 
 Army could have been picked for a murderer whose 
 looks would have better fitted the part. A low fore- 
 head, narrow slits of shifty eyes, a mean thin-lipped 
 mouth, with chin just square enough to show you 
 that he was stubborn enough to carry through a job 
 
INTO THE GERMAN LINES 91 
 
 if it took his fancy. I shall never forget his face. 
 
 " The firing had died down again, and the still- 
 ness was awful. For the first time I counted our boys 
 and found four were missing: there were fifteen left 
 besides the Captain and myself, and we were all ly- 
 ing together in a bunch. Most of us had our eyes 
 on the German. I could not keep my eyes away 
 from him: the evil look on his face fairly mesmer- 
 ised me. He handled his rifle in a threatening man- 
 ner for a minute, and actually went so far as to 
 finger the lock and trigger. The Captain said after- 
 wards that it was all he could do to keep from jump- 
 ing at him and downing him, but he was just far 
 enough away for such a move to have meant a bul- 
 let, sure. 
 
 " Suddenly the firing came on again, and our 
 guard paused for a moment as though undecided 
 what to do. At last, with an oath he turned and 
 bolted up the ravine in the direction in which his 
 fellows had disappeared. 
 
 ' The relief was so great when he went we almost 
 forgot the way we were fixed. One or two of the 
 boys jumped up and began to cheer, but this drew 
 a storm of fire at us and over us, and the Captain's 
 remarks were more pointed than polite. There 
 seemed no safe way for us to attract the attention 
 of our own troops immediately in front, so we de- 
 cided to hook it. We managed to get back to the 
 motor and lorry without getting hit, though how we 
 did it I don't know. No Germans were in sight. 
 We started up the machines and drove along the 
 road to the left until we got a turning up which we 
 could run in a general southerly direction. A mile 
 
92 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 further on we came in touch with one of our cav- 
 alry patrols, and half an hour later we were well 
 within our lines. 
 
 " The Captain was all for going back and getting 
 the two lorries which had been ditched, but the re- 
 treat was still on, so that was out of the question. 
 
 " Whatever happened to the four men that be- 
 came separated from us I don't know, but none of 
 the rest of us were any the worse. The Captain 
 was a bit sore, and I think all the rest of us were, 
 that they wouldn't let us go back after those two 
 lorries we had lost." 
 
 Bad news came of a surprise attack by the Ger- 
 mans between St. Vaast and Nery at daylight that 
 morning. Spies had apparently located the camp of 
 the i st Cavalry Brigade to a nicety. L Battery of 
 the Royal Horse Artillery was attached to Briggs' 
 Brigade and bivouacked with it. 
 
 In the mist of the grey dawn the Germans, who 
 had brought up eight guns in the night, and num- 
 bered several thousand, opened fire at 400 yards. 
 
 In the first few minutes, so accurately did the 
 enemy gunners have the range, three of the six guns 
 of L battery were smashed. Two of the battery 
 officers were killed and three wounded. The Cav- 
 alry Brigade did not escape, the Queen's Bays, 5th 
 Dragoon Guards and nth Hussars suffering a num- 
 ber of casualties, and General Briggs' Brigade 
 Major being killed by a shrapnel bullet. 
 
 To the hail of shells was added a storm of ma- 
 chine gun fire at close range. In a few minutes 
 every officer and nearly every non-commissioned of- 
 ficer in L Battery was wounded, and it was threat- 
 ened with total annihilation. Only one of its guns 
 
INTO THE GERMAN LINES 93 
 
 remained in action and two men of its crew were 
 all that were left to serve it. 
 
 By this time the Cavalry Brigade was engaging 
 the Germans, and Colonel Ansell was leading a cou- 
 ple of squadrons of his 5th Dragoon Guards around 
 their flank, and Colonel Tommy Pitman's nth Hus- 
 sars were fighting hard in front. Some of the 
 Middlesex Regiment, too, of the 19th Brigade, 
 hearing the firing, were coming up rapidly in sup- 
 port, as did the 4th Cavalry Brigade. 
 
 So fierce was the onslaught of the dismounted 
 troopers, that victory was snatched from the enemy. 
 The Germans were completely routed with consid- 
 erable loss, and their eight field guns were taken. 
 Colonel Ansell was killed and the 5 th Dragoon 
 Guards suffered heavily. L battery was, of course, 
 the greatest victim, its losses being over eighty per 
 cent, of its strength. The story of the capture of 
 the German guns after so great an initial advantage 
 had been gained by them ran over the army like 
 wild fire, and had a most cheering effect. 
 
 The following detailed account of the fighting at 
 Nery by the nth Hussars is taken from a diary kept 
 by an nth Hussar officer: — 
 
 "On August 31st, the 1st Cavalry Brigade ar- 
 rived at Nery just before dark and billeted. At 
 4.15 a.m. on the morning of September 1st, a 
 patrol, under Lieut. Tailby, was sent out to the high 
 ground to the north-east, and the regiment stood to 
 arms at 4.30 a.m. The morning was misty, and it 
 was difficult to distinguish objects at a distance of 
 more than 150 yards. At 5.30 a.m., Lieut. Tailby 
 galloped in carrying a German cloak, and reported 
 that his patrol had ridden in the mist right up to 
 
94 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 a regiment of German cavalry on the ridge north- 
 east of Nery, and had been chased back as far as 
 the ravine. 
 
 " The squadrons were immediately placed into 
 position, B Squadron sending one troop to the south- 
 east corner of the village, one troop to the church 
 overlooking the ravine to the east, one troop to the 
 north-east corner of the village, and one troop being 
 kept in support. C squadron defended the farm 
 immediately to the south of the church, and A 
 squadron was kept in reserve. 
 
 " Scarcely had these dispositions been made when 
 an extremely heavy artillery and machine-gun fire 
 opened from the ridge to the north-east of the 
 church. 
 
 " As soon as the situation was clear, A squadron 
 was placed at the disposal of the G.O.C. Brigade 
 and sent to fill the gap between L Battery, and the 
 right troop of B squadron, where it remained in 
 action until the conclusion of the engagement. The 
 German guns were in position to the south-east of 
 the village and within 400 yards of L Battery. The 
 wagons with their escort were left on the ridge im- 
 mediately to the east of the church, but owing to 
 the mist and a report that the French cavalry were 
 coming up, fire was not opened on them until a dis- 
 mounted patrol had been sent across the ravine to 
 clear up the situation, and a good opportunity was 
 thus lost. Meanwhile the enemy had been gradually 
 working round to the south and occupied the sugar 
 factory. . . . Here they captured the owner and 
 his workmen, whom they used when retiring as a 
 screen against a party of the Bays under Lieut, de 
 Crespigny. Several of the civilians were wounded, 
 
INTO THE GERMAN LINES 95 
 
 and the Germans escorting them made off toward 
 their own guns. These unfortunate civilians took 
 cover in a beet field until they were eventually res- 
 cued by us at the end of the action. At about 8 a.m. 
 the 4th Cavalry Brigade arrived in support and 
 opened a heavy artillery fire on the German guns. 
 The enemy then tried to man-handle the guns out 
 of action, but being under close range of the Bays' 
 machine-guns (which were most admirably handled 
 all through), and of the two machine-guns of the 
 nth Hussars, which had been brought round to the 
 road at the south-east corner of the village, most 
 of the enemy withdrew. Eight guns were left upon 
 the field. 
 
 " Our infantry now arrived from the North and 
 passed through the village. C squadron were 
 ordered to mount and follow up the German re- 
 treat. They crossed the ravine and worked round 
 the left flank towards the German guns; Beli- 
 Irving's troop dismounted and opened fire on some 
 thirty Germans who were retiring. Norrie's troop 
 galloped through the German guns only to find them 
 abandoned, and the advanced infantry closed upon 
 them, the squadron pushed on to Varrines, captur- 
 ing a number of prisoners and horses, and made 
 good a farm about a quarter of a mile beyond that 
 point; here they captured about thirty led horses 
 and more prisoners. The squadron was recalled as 
 the Brigade was ordered west. 
 
 ' The whole action had lasted about two hours, 
 during which the enemy kept up a heavy fire of guns 
 and maxims. The regiment kept up a heavy fire 
 throughout, except during the short period as stated 
 above. The casualties in the Bays, 5th Dragoon 
 
96 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 Guards and L Battery were large, owing to their 
 position at the moment of attack. Those in L Bat- 
 tery were especially heavy, as they gallantly at- 
 tempted to bring their guns into action under a mur- 
 derous machine-gun and artillery fire at a range of 
 400 yards. Several of their guns succeeded in open- 
 ing fire, but were inevitably silenced by the superior 
 hostile fire. All the officers and men with the guns 
 had been put out of action. Captain Bradbury, who 
 died of wounds the same day, Sergeant-Major Dor- 
 rell and one other received the V.C. for their gal- 
 lant conduct. There is little doubt that the at- 
 tackers suffered very heavily, and the loss of their 
 guns probably accounted for a German wireless 
 message which was intercepted later in the day, 
 which ran as follows: — 
 
 " ' Attacked by English at dawn, unable to fulfil 
 mission.' The attacking force consisted of a Cav- 
 alry Division of six regiments, with machine guns 
 and a battery of twelve guns. It looks from the 
 above message as if they did not originally intend 
 to attack Nery, but suddenly finding themselves in 
 the fog within 400 yards of a British force in bil- 
 lets, decided to attack. 
 
 " The Brigade was ordered to join the Cavalry 
 Division about five miles west, remained in position 
 there about five hours, and eventually retired south 
 to Borest. 
 " Sept. 2nd. 19 14. 
 
 " Moved at dawn through the forest of Ermon- 
 ville; glorious weather and glad of the shade. On 
 crossing one of the rides, came on the tracks of 
 horses and sent a troop to follow them up. They 
 found the ride strewn with German kit of all kinds, 
 
INTO THE GERMAN LINES 97 
 
 lame horses, etc., showing a hurried retreat. They 
 had gone by five hours previously and turned out 
 to be our Nery friends, the Cavalry division, who 
 had bumped into one of our columns and retreated 
 rapidly, leaving their four remaining guns." 
 
 At half past seven on the evening of September 
 1st, panic orders came for a sudden movement of 
 G.H.Q. The driver of a car came in with word 
 that a body of six or seven hundred Uhlans had 
 been seen in the vicinity. A never-to-be-forgotten 
 scene was staged in the leafy lane. The big lamps 
 of the cars sent long shafts of light through the 
 gathering dusk. Hurried packing was done by 
 everybody. Groaning lorries were forced up the 
 steep drive. A detachment of cavalry and the Bi- 
 cycle Company attached to G.H.Q., some few foot 
 soldiers, and a couple of lorry loads of Tommies 
 hurried off together. No time was given to obtain 
 food. Everything was helter-skelter. My car was 
 the last out but one, and I left Dammartin with a 
 sad realisation that my last remaining linen had 
 been deposited that morning in Dammartin's sole 
 laundry, and I had again left behind me goods and 
 chattels which I was more than likely destined never 
 to see again. I asked permission to go and retrieve 
 my clothing, but was told that departure was a mat- 
 ter of the greatest urgency and I could not possibly 
 be spared. 
 
 No one who took part in that inglorious scamper 
 will forget it. We raced away in the night, the 
 moonlight throwing deep shadows along the road. 
 A few shots rang out — a dozen or so — which in- 
 creased the general tension. Never was so much 
 
98 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 dust distributed over a flying column. The right 
 side of the road was filled with slowly moving sup- 
 ply trains. French cavalry rode past, and French 
 reservist infantry were occupying trenches along the 
 roadway. A dozen aeroplanes loomed white and 
 ghostly in a field as we swung by. Motor cyclists 
 dashed in and out around the swiftly moving cars. 
 We were white with dust from head to foot. G. 
 H.Q. sped on through the night as though all the 
 German devils were on our trail. After what 
 seemed an interminable time we reached Lagny. 
 
 Such hurried departure from Dammartin pro- 
 duced confusion on our arrival at Lagny. Our 
 entry into the town was made through lanes of 
 cheering crowds, who were to see the Germans enter 
 the town not many hours afterwards. No cheer- 
 ing then, I imagine. 
 
 At one hotel only — the Hotel de la Renaissance 
 — food was available, and there most of us got 
 some sort of a dinner before the night was over. 
 I was fortunate in dining off an omelette made from 
 the last couple of eggs at n.30, and straightway 
 thereafter turned in on the floor of a hairdresser's 
 shop facing the square, in which the G.H.Q. cars 
 were drawn up in the pale moonlight. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 END OF THE GREAT RETREAT 
 
 Sleeping in one's clothes on the hard floor of a 
 shop and rising to a breakfast of lukewarm coffee 
 and dry bread, the best available breakfast, is not 
 the primrose path to a day of light-heartedness and 
 good humour, but, nevertheless, I have rarely en- 
 joyed myself so much as on that Wednesday, Sep- 
 tember 2nd, in Lagny. 
 
 Sir John French's army was piling south as fast 
 as it could come. Past the Marne and on toward 
 the south-east of Paris it was to file in hurrying 
 columns. 
 
 All day long my car stood in the square at Lagny, 
 save for a short journey or two about the town. 
 
 At 8.30 in the morning a big explosion near at 
 hand, and a huge column of black smoke, followed 
 by another fifteen minutes later, told of the French 
 engineers who were blowing up the bridges over the 
 Marne. All the morning they were at work demol- 
 ishing bridge after bridge in and near the town. 
 
 At an early hour I encountered an old friend of 
 cheery personality in Colonel Reggie Ford, the 
 Deputy-Director of Supplies, and with him General 
 King and General Gilpin, the Director of Trans- 
 port. 
 
 A pleasant chat gave me some rough idea of our 
 lines of retreat. That both our armies and the 
 French were falling back steadily was about all the 
 
 99 
 
ioo FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 news at that time. The front of our line was to be 
 south of Dammartin by nightfall if all went as 
 planned. G.H.Q. was to move southward during 
 the day, its next stop being Melun. 
 
 The sun was scorching down on us in earnest be- 
 fore the morning was well advanced. 
 
 I sat in my car and gossiped. A fortunate pur- 
 chase of a goodly stock of red and white wines, as 
 well as a couple of dozen bottles of mineral water 
 made the cool shade of my hood and the soft, com- 
 fortable seats of my car all the more a port of call. 
 The rich orchards of the surrounding valleys were 
 groaning with delicious fruit. A countrywoman 
 sold me a whole basket of luscious peaches and 
 pears for a couple of francs. Life took on a 
 brighter hue. 
 
 Some of the stories I heard that morning at 
 Lagny were illustrative of the little that was known 
 of the general plan of the campaign that was pro- 
 ceeding. Most of the Corps commanders drove 
 up during the day and called on Sir John French. 
 The town was full of rumours of all sorts from 
 every part of the line. 
 
 One G.H.Q. Staff colonel told me of one of our 
 motor-cyclists who had been found dead with lance 
 holes in his hands and his body partially burned. 
 I searched in vain for any corroboration of this re- 
 port, though it was retailed to me in great detail 
 and with absolute seriousness. 
 
 Another officer thought we had lost most of our 
 guns. He could count thirty-seven to thirty-eight 
 we had lost to his personal knowledge. One com- 
 mand that originally had twenty-four guns was left 
 with but one, he said. 
 
END OF THE GREAT RETREAT 101 
 
 A General Staff officer who had been in touch 
 with the staff of the French 5th Army on our right 
 chatted for a long time about the disappointment 
 of the French who had been fighting between La 
 Fere and Guise on August 29th. 
 
 The French had a terrible hammering at Guise, 
 he said. In spite of it they sprang a night attack 
 on Von Kluck's left and won an unequivocal victory. 
 Next morning they battered the Germans with 200 
 guns and almost had them on the run. The enemy 
 retired, and the French were eager to follow up 
 their advantage, sure of capturing no end of guns, 
 which could not have been gotten away. Just then 
 came the order to retire to Sains and Vervins. 
 This, alas, was due to Sir John French having 
 dropped back from Ham and Guiscard, in spite of 
 the strong French force on his left which had come 
 out from Amiens towards Peronne and Nesle. 
 " All the French wanted us to do," he averred, 
 " was to hold the centre. They begged us to do 
 this, but back we came, and the opportunity was 
 lost." 
 
 How bad my pessimistic friend felt and how lit- 
 tle he knew of the great conflicts to the eastward 
 that were preventing a stand being made in the 
 western theatre ! 
 
 Another ill-informed strategist explained that 
 orders from Whitehall to keep a way open to the 
 sea had forced the retreat to continue and Paris 
 to be sacrificed. Our base at Boulogne was to be 
 shifted to the mouth of the Loire, away to the south- 
 west. Von Kluck was to gain his objective after 
 all, and Paris streets would soon echo to the tramp 
 of German legions ! 
 
102 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 Still another alarmist told strange tales of Ger- 
 man Uhlans successful south of Dammartin and 
 near at hand, but Borritt of the R.A.C. lot had just 
 come from there, and declared such a rumour to be 
 without the slightest foundation. Borritt had been 
 compelled to leave Dammartin on the previous 
 evening in such haste that he had no opportunity of 
 collecting the bag containing his kit. He returned 
 for it during the early morning. Conflicting ru- 
 mours made him wary. Leaving his car south of 
 the town he crept up the road stealthily, prepared 
 to bolt if he saw Germans in Dammartin, as report 
 said they were. After a careful reconnaisance he 
 saw a khaki-clad soldier cross the road ahead of 
 him, and on entering the town he found General 
 Haig's Headquarters there. He told me the 4th 
 Division and 19th Brigade had been formed into a 
 3rd Corps, with General Pulteney in command. 
 They were in action, as a rearguard, on the extreme 
 left rear of the retreating army. 
 
 Of the many stories that were rife in Lagny that 
 day, none took account of the fact that Von Kluck 
 would leave Paris to itself and swing to the south- 
 east to smash the French 5th Army, as he was to 
 endeavour to do during the next forty-eight hours. 
 All were greatly concerned with the fate of Paris, 
 which seemed doomed. 
 
 At noontide I was asked to take a sorry-looking 
 German prisoner and his grimly cheerful guard, a 
 splendid, big Cameron Highlander, to the railway 
 station. One could hardly imagine so meek a Ger- 
 man. Not a sound escaped him. Not a look did he 
 give to right or left. I gave the Highlander a cou- 
 ple of apples from my store and he promptly 
 
END OF THE GREAT RETREAT 103 
 
 handed one to the subdued Hun, who took it me- 
 chanically with not even a look of thanks. While 
 detained at a level crossing, French soldiers, brim- 
 ming over with good humour, crowded around the 
 car to see the captive. They were kindly enough, 
 in a rough way, and tried to cheer the poor beggar, 
 but to no effect. Sadness radiated from him. He 
 oozed despondency at every pore. I was glad to 
 turn him over to the Railway Transport Officer. 
 
 The roads through Lagny were packed with flee- 
 ing refugees. White oxen in fours and fine big 
 draught horses drew load upon load of them. Tan- 
 dems of three pulled most of the great carts, and 
 blocks in the traffic were numerous. Whole fam- 
 ilies were piled on wagons full of grain, three gen- 
 erations frequently in one party. Now and then a 
 quartette of milk-white oxen lumbered along pull- 
 ing a clumsy wagon crowned with a score of women 
 and children huddled together under a dozen huge 
 black umbrellas, an odd sight indeed. 
 
 All the afternoon tales of the fighting and ex- 
 planations of and reasons for the retreat, coupled 
 with prophecies of all sorts came from one quarter 
 or another. 
 
 Late in the evening I had a moonlight run to 
 Melun over a grand road. Dozens of sentries along 
 the way stopped us and carefully examined our 
 passes. Once we were held some time on account 
 of our ignorance of the password, but finally al- 
 lowed to proceed on the strength of my own French 
 pass. 
 
 Refugees and columns of motor transports made 
 slow travelling, and it was nearly midnight when 
 we pulled up at G.H.Q. at Melun. I was not long 
 
io 4 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 in finding the Trois Monarques, and a drink where- 
 with to remove some of the dust I had been breath- 
 ing for miles along the way. There I found Seeker, 
 of the R.A.C. He had lost his car when en route 
 to Senlis two days before. Crushed between two 
 lorries and towed into Senlis, he hoped to effect a 
 repair. News of the oncoming Germans emptied 
 the garages of the few remaining workmen on Sep- 
 tember i st, however, and the troops evacuated the 
 town by eleven o'clock that morning. Seeker stayed 
 until two o'clock, when the Germans were reported 
 to be not far north, so there was nothing for it 
 but to leave his car to the enemy and come sadly 
 away on foot. 
 
 He was off to Paris at daybreak, he said, to pur- 
 chase another car to take its place. 
 
 No room being available in the hotel, I obtained 
 a billet in the Ecole Jeanne d'Arc, where the 
 motherly old sisters provided me with a clean and 
 comfortable cot. 
 
 September 3rd saw me in a new job, which was 
 to last me for many interesting months to come. 
 
 The French Government had the day before left 
 Paris for Bordeaux, and Headquarters of the 
 French Armies and the French War Office were to 
 move to Bordeaux that day. 
 
 The capitulation of the French capital seemed to 
 most of us to be a foregone conclusion. 
 
 General Gilpin had purchased three motor-cars, 
 which were to be assigned to Allenby's Division for 
 intercommunication between Cavalry Brigades. I 
 was asked to take the trio to Allenby's headquarters 
 at Gournay, a village on the south bank of the 
 Marne, a few miles east of Paris. 
 
END OF THE GREAT RETREAT 105 
 
 Anxious to see more of the actual fighting than 
 I could possibly do if attached to G.H.Q., I applied 
 to be assigned to the Brigade work for which one 
 of the three new cars had been purchased. My re- 
 quest was granted, and I was off and away from 
 Melun in short order. 
 
 The run north on the main road to Meaux found 
 even that broad highway well-nigh impassable ow- 
 ing to the lines of transport and columns of refu- 
 gees. The hot days and long marches were tell- 
 ing on the poor fleeing country folk in sad fashion. 
 On every side were sad sights — weary mothers 
 wheeling poor little prams; one pathetic peasant 
 woman seated on a bank by the roadside, rocking 
 her dead baby and crooning over it; aged grandes 
 dames tottering on the hot way; one well-dressed 
 old lady, with shoes in hand, limping along, her 
 bruised feet showing red through great holes in her 
 thin stockings; and more than once some worn-out 
 women, exhausted, lying prone in the ditch in merci- 
 ful insensibility. 
 
 I lost one car en route, the driver being delayed 
 and separated from us by a stop for a puncture. 
 
 Turning over his fellow to Colonel Ludlow r 
 A.A.Q.M.G. of the 1st Cavalry Division, whom I 
 found in a fine chateau at Champs, I slept the night 
 in a stable, and was off at daybreak to find the lost 
 sheep. 
 
 It was night on Friday, September 4th, before I 
 returned with him. Back to Melun, then to our 
 rail bases at Mormant, Guignes, Verneuil, and 
 Chaumes, on to General Smith-Dorrien's head- 
 quarters at Maisoncelle, and at last to Sir Charles 
 Fergusson's headquarters at Bouleur, I ran before 
 
106 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 my mission was accomplished. A spare car was 
 fair game for all and sundry in those days. Each 
 headquarters would gladly annex it should oppor- 
 tunity present. 
 
 ■ At Champs, Major MacAlpine-Leny, 16th Lan- 
 cers, on General Allenby's Staff, had the appor- 
 tioning of the cars. Learning that I was keen on 
 being sent to General de Lisle and his 2nd Cav- 
 alry Brigade, he very kindly arranged matters thus. 
 I found General de Lisle and his staff in a deep 
 wood near Champs. He at once welcomed me into 
 his mess, presenting me to the other members of 
 it, of whom I was to see much during the weeks 
 that followed. 
 
 Captain Hamilton-Grace, 13th Hussars, was at 
 that time Brigade-Major of the Second. Captain 
 " Rattle " Barrett, of the 15th Hussars, who had 
 captained the team that brought the International 
 Polo Cup back from the United States, was staff cap- 
 tain. Lieutenant Fairclough, R.F.A., was signals 
 officer, and Lieutenant Jeff Phipps-Hornby, of the 
 9th Lancers, the well-known gentleman rider, and 
 Lieutenant Pat Armstrong, 10th Hussars, were 
 aides. 
 
 Dinner by a camp fire in the woods, surrounded 
 by the troops of cavalry, was picturesque to a de- 
 gree. Rolling ourselves in our blankets, we were 
 not long in wooing slumber, warned of an early 
 start on the morrow. 
 
 So thick was the foliage under which I was sleep- 
 ing, that a heavy rain fell in the night. without wet- 
 ting or waking me. 
 
 We breakfasted by firelight soon after three 
 o'clock on the morning of Saturday, the 5th, and 
 
END OF THE GREAT RETREAT 107 
 
 were soon on the road for Limoges, eight kilo- 
 metres north of Melun. The ghostly files of 
 French and English cavalrymen had commenced 
 their southward trek long before daybreak. The 
 smaller roads to the west of the Forest of Armain- 
 villiers were full of troops on troops of cavalry, 
 so I chose a route straight south through the beau- 
 tiful forest. 
 
 Each little town near the Aisne had its guard and 
 quaint little fortifications. Here ditches, flanked by 
 barrels of stones, there carts minus wheels and 
 filled with bricks and cement. Now and again 
 hastily-improvised stone walls, sometimes covered 
 with branches, but always barricades of some sort 
 at each entrance to each village, and all most con- 
 scientiously manned by a local guard. 
 
 The 4th Division and 19th Brigade, composing 
 the newly formed 3rd Corps, were on the march 
 south through the Forest. The Welsh Fusiliers 
 and Scottish Rifles, unshaven and unshorn, tramped 
 on in the early morning, already hot, looking fit in 
 spite of their tattered array. 
 
 Arriving early at Limoges, I had time to run to 
 Corbeil and back on a foraging expedition before 
 the Brigade made an appearance. The three regi- 
 ments were billeted in the farms about us, and a 
 dear old woman in one of them cooked a splendid 
 dinner, chiefly consisting of an omelette and a fat 
 duck, for the headquarters' mess. Borrowing a 
 small hand basin after dinner and repairing to a 
 well in an orchard hard by, I indulged in a bath and 
 general clean up. 
 
 The day was hot and clear. Most of the Bri- 
 gade were engaged in cleansing the dust from them- 
 
108 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 selves and their kits and accoutrements, or in tak- 
 ing a midday siesta. 
 
 Suddenly, at four o'clock, came word that the 
 Brigade was to move at once to Chaumes, away to 
 the eastward. We lost no time in moving. My 
 work was to take Captain Barrett there at once to 
 proceed with the billeting. This was concluded 
 only to find orders were changed, and the brigade 
 was to proceed still further eastward, through Mor- 
 mant to Ozouer-le-Repos. 
 
 I slept on the grass under a great tree that threw 
 a deep shadow in the bright moonlight. We all 
 closed our eyes in different mood than on any night 
 in the previous fortnight. We were moving to the 
 east and the Germans were coming westward. At 
 last we were advancing to meet the enemy. I felt 
 a new life had begun. The very air seemed 
 sweeter, the moonlight softer, the whole world a 
 better place to live in. 
 
 Little, indeed, we knew, but that little was much 
 to us. 
 
 Dawn of Sunday, the 6th of September, found me 
 awake. The battle with the advancing enemy was 
 to commence at last. At the breakfast table Gen- 
 eral de Lisle said to Hamilton-Grace, " See that 
 the fighting men are in front to-day." Gastins, due 
 east, was the first objective, and the Second Brigade 
 was to lead the van. 
 
 That Saturday morning was to see history made. 
 General Henderson's airmen had marked the east- 
 ward swing of Von Kluck's forces. Joflfre was 
 ready to strike, and, on Friday, had conferred with 
 French. Maunoury was on our left, and Conneau's 
 cavalry on our right, with d'Esperey's 5 th Army 
 
END OF THE GREAT RETREAT 109 
 
 east of him. At that hour the Germans — having 
 reached the Petit Morin — were to find the river 
 would mark the limit of their great advance. 
 
 Before the day was over Sir John French's order 
 was to " call upon the British Army in France to 
 show now to the enemy its power, and to push on 
 vigorously to the attack." 
 
 The retreat was over — the advance begun. 
 
 We never doubted the outcome. 
 
 Early the order to form up was given. Through 
 the wide village street the troopers in double col- 
 umn led their chargers, greeted by the rising sun. 
 
 Past the big stone barns and prosperous farm 
 houses, past the grim old square-towered church, 
 tramped the troopers. Now they were in saddle 
 and in another moment away, a gallant sight indeed. 
 
 Again we had a day of dust and sweltering heat. 
 Our line of advance was north-east, in the general 
 direction of La Ferte Gaucher and the Petit Morin. 
 When between Gastins and Pecy we were informed 
 that a considerable German force was but a few 
 miles ahead, and soon our advance guard was in 
 touch with them. 
 
 Back and forth along the roads from time to 
 time with various officers of Staff, or standing by 
 the General watching operations through field- 
 glasses, new sights and scenes unfolded themselves 
 during every hour of the day. 
 
 Regiments and batteries coming up through the 
 fields, or pushing their way under orchard trees, 
 bands of pickets riding in with reports and tearing 
 away again at a gallop — all was never-ceasing 
 movement. 
 
 While the morning was young a German shell 
 
no FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 burst in a farmyard near me, a score of geese and 
 chickens its only victims, though it set a grain stack 
 on fire. 
 
 The whizzy-pop of the shrapnel from the 
 enemy's field-guns was to grow familiar before the 
 day was over. One such shrapnel, unluckily placed, 
 burst over a group of three officers and ten men of 
 the 9th Lancers, hitting every one of them. 
 
 A message took me well to the front, to the gates 
 of a big chateau. As we pulled away, a bang, fol- 
 lowed by another, told of a couple of shell-bursts 
 close behind us. A few minutes later, on another 
 visit to the chateau, I saw six or eight troopers 
 burying a still form wrapped in a rug. A quickly- 
 dug grave by the gate was made, and the body laid 
 in it without delay. Killed by the shells that had 
 come as we left, they said, and killed at the very 
 spot where the car had stood. Two wounded men, 
 hit by the two shells, were lying near, and a 
 sergeant showed me where a piece of shrapnel had 
 torn away an ammunition packet on his breast, with- 
 out inflicting other hurt than to bruise the skin. 
 
 Wounded came back, often supported by a com- 
 rade as the day wore on, and the fighting was suf- 
 ficiently close to the point from which the General 
 was directing operations, so that the merry pop- 
 ping of the rifles through the woods echoed all 
 about us. 
 
 Scared inhabitants fled to the rear. Once or 
 twice hysterical women in madly careering carts 
 rushed past, threatening to smash into oncoming 
 guns. Villagers who remained at home, old folk, 
 looked awed and sombre on us as we passed. 
 Colonel Seely materialised during the afternoon, 
 
END OF THE GREAT RETREAT in 
 
 and gave us news that Pulteney's 3rd Corps was 
 fighting hard on our left, and the French on our 
 right were fiercely engaged and foraging slowly for- 
 ward. 
 
 We bivouacked that night in the fields, dining in 
 the stubble by the headlights of the car, and sleep- 
 ing in the open. A chilly night after the hot day, 
 and wet with a heavy fall of dew. 
 
 Four o'clock on the morning of Monday, the 7th, 
 saw us up and warming ourselves by the welcome 
 fire, over which breakfast coffee was boiling. 
 
 Moving on, the objective of our column, one of 
 three lines of cavalry, was in the general direction 
 of La Ferte Gaucher again, leaving Croisy on our 
 left. Conneau's cavalry was close at hand on our 
 right, and keeping line with us. 
 
 A wrong turning at a cross-road put me in ad- 
 vance of the 2nd Brigade. I ran into a bit of snip- 
 ing fire, but it soon ceased as our advance guard 
 went forward. We were in touch with the enemy 
 every foot of the way, though we had not as yet 
 found him in force. Seven or eight Uhlans rode 
 from behind a cluster of stacks, less than a thou- 
 sand yards from us, and galloped to the north, a 
 handful of our troopers hotfoot after them. Then 
 heavy rifle fire in front, and, soon after, our guns. 
 
 Oh, the fascination of it ! The glory of a gallop- 
 ing regiment of cavalry, flowing over a green field 
 in line of squadrons ! On we pushed. Past a little 
 village in a valley, tucked away so cleverly one came 
 upon it unawares, then on to a rise of ground, 
 another dip, then a steep hill, and suddenly a shell 
 burst right in front. I pulled up short. The fas- 
 cination of it was like to run away with me when 
 
ii2 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 our own cavalry was chasing the German cavalry. 
 Also it was like to run away with my judgment. A 
 car might get further forward than necessary, per- 
 haps even further forward than was wise. 
 
 Bang! bang! Two German shrapnel. Whizz, 
 over and beyond, with a bang behind. Crash ! One 
 fell to the right, between two squads of galloping 
 troopers. The horses reared and shied, but not one 
 fell. The second group rode through the white 
 shell-cloud, and dashed on. 
 
 Rifle fire ahead, and bang came a shell, bursting 
 over me. Bang ! Much too close ! 
 
 I went into the village of Montcel to seek the pro- 
 tection of its buildings, leaving the car. 
 
 I passed up the wide street, deserted except by a 
 dead German officer in front of a cottage, and gained 
 the further edge of the cluster of mean houses that 
 composed the village. 
 
 Behind a friendly stone wall, I stopped and took 
 out my glasses. The stubble stretched away towards 
 a line of woods. 
 
 Diagonally, across the broad road that led north 
 from the village, came a line of horsemen. 
 
 Magnificent in the morning sun they rode, a solid 
 line rising and falling with regular cadence, as 
 though mechanically propelled. 
 
 The ist Garde Dragoner Regiment of Berlin, of 
 the Garde Cavallerie Division of the Garde Corps, 
 the proudest, finest cavalry of the German Army — 
 over one hundred of them, seeming double the num- 
 ber to me — were charging across the fields. 
 
 On they came, like machine-made waves on a 
 machine-made ocean. 
 
 Then from the left shot other horsemen, one well 
 
END OF THE GREAT RETREAT 113 
 
 ahead, another not far back, and a scattered scur- 
 rying bunch of two score behind, riding like mad, 
 full tilt at the ranks of German pride and might 
 bearing down upon them. 
 
 Colonel David Campbell, of the 9th Lancers, 
 close on hfs heels Captain Reynolds, his adjutant, and 
 forty-five of his gallant regiment were charging more 
 than double their number of the flower of the ene- 
 my's horse. 
 
 The Germans quickened appreciably, and their 
 lances waved downwards to the rest. Their pace 
 was slow compared with the whirlwind rush of the 
 smaller band. 
 
 I was on the wall when the impact came. Crash ! 
 went the 9th into the Garde. Colonel Campbell and 
 Captain Reynolds were down, and horses reared and 
 staggered. I wondered that none of the chargers 
 funked it. Each horse seemed imbued with the 
 spirit of his rider. Not one charger "refused." 
 
 No sooner had the smash come than I realised the 
 wall was no place for me, so off I dashed to my car 
 and safety. 
 
 The 9th scored heavily off their more numerous 
 foes. A few fell, but more than double the number 
 of Germans bit the dust. Crack British troopers 
 proved their undoubted superiority, man for man, by 
 the number of German dead and wounded we found 
 on the field. Galloping on, the 9th circled round 
 the village and away to the rear. 
 
 The Germans stopped, and many of them dis- 
 mounted. One of them went coolly through the 
 pockets of Reynolds, lying with an aluminium lance 
 through his side. A farrier-sergeant lay dead near a 
 
ii 4 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 pond at the village end. The Germans knocked in 
 his head and tossed his body into the pool. 
 
 All this happened in the twinkling of an eye. Some 
 of the Garde penetrated the village street, but re- 
 turned after a gallop down and back. 
 
 By this time Colonel Burnett, of the 1 8th Hussars, 
 with a dismounted squadron, had worked round to 
 the left with a machine-gun. When he opened on 
 them, the Germans mounted and swung by him and 
 into the full line of fire. 
 
 That squadron of the 1 8th had a splendid target. 
 The result was a field strewn with many German 
 dead. The rest galloped away, leaving their wounded 
 behind them. 
 
 One of the 9th, running out from the village to 
 pull the lance from Reynolds's side, was shot dead by 
 a wounded German lying near. 
 
 Strange sights were seen by some of the men in 
 that charge. A non-commissioned officer of the 9th 
 ran his lance full through a German officer, who, thus 
 impaled, stuck at the lancer and severed his hand at 
 ..- "the" wrist. One trooper of the 9th ran his lance 
 straight through a German till his hand touched the 
 doomed man's breast. A German horse was seen 
 galloping away with a corpse pinned to its back by 
 a lance. 
 
 Colonel Campbell, who so gallantly led the charge 
 against such odds, received a nasty lance-wound 
 through the shoulder. 
 
 I brought my car into the village. Entering a 
 cottage in search of a sheet to throw over the disfig- 
 ured face of a dead German officer, I found two 
 women, who had been in the house during the fight- 
 ing. They told me the Germans had spent a night 
 
END OF THE GREAT RETREAT 115 
 
 in the village, and had treated them quite well. The 
 German cavalrymen had food, said the elder woman, 
 and left money therefor. She showed me a ten-cent 
 Netherlands piece and a ten-cent Belgian coin, with 
 a hole in the centre, with which the Huns had paid 
 her. 
 
 In an orchard, around which ran the stone wall on 
 which I had stood, we found two Germans hiding. 
 One was the trumpeter of the Dragoner Garde, with 
 painful lance holes in both his legs. A 9th trooper 
 gave a German a cigarette and politely struck a 
 match for him. The other prisoner was unwounded, 
 and had been concealed near us, loaded Mauser in 
 hand, for an hour or more. His discovery led to the 
 orchard being thoroughly beaten, but no more game 
 materialised. 
 
 By 9.30 the heat was as fierce as that of the aver- 
 age summer noonday. The General and his Staff 
 were scanning the country round from a stack not far 
 in front. After I had delivered the papers taken 
 from the prisoners found in the orchard, the General 
 suggested I should break the lances of the dead 
 German troopers who here and there dotted the 
 field. I had not visited half a dozen before I found 
 that some of the supposedly dead Germans were still 
 alive. This necessitated a journey to advise our 
 medical officer of quarry for him. Thereafter I 
 mounted the stack in the heat and watched I Bat- 
 tery of the R.H.A. shell the wood in front of us. 
 
 A fine fight, Montcel. A fair charge, the smaller 
 force scoring off the larger one by pure merit in 
 handling of horses and weapons. The crack cavalry 
 regiment of the Prussian Army met one of the best 
 British cavalry regiments that day to the bitter cost 
 
n6 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 of the former. Its casualties must have reached 
 well-nigh one hundred all told. The Second Cavalry 
 Brigade lost 8 killed, 22 wounded and 5 missing 
 during the whole of the morning. 
 
 So the forenoon passed in heat and inaction after 
 the stirring events of the earlier part of the day. 
 G.H.Q. had sent instructions that the cavalry were, 
 until further orders, to keep the Dagny line. French 
 aeroplanes reported the enemy in force at Choisy. 
 Our brigade was to send patrols there, and to Char- 
 tronges and Leudon. 
 
 An al fresco luncheon, under a tree by the road- 
 side, was interrupted by a French officer, whose 
 motor-car panted up to us in a flurry. He brought the 
 good news that the French were in line with us on 
 both right and left, and that our British infantry had 
 that morning taken Coulommiers, on the Grand 
 Morin. 
 
 At two o'clock we were on the move. For half an 
 hour I had the experience of being well shelled in 
 Choisy, where a smart fight developed. 
 
 Every road about us vomited infantry, horse and 
 guns. We were hard after the right wing of Von 
 Kluck's army, pressing on as fast as orders from 
 G.H.Q. would permit. 
 
 That night we slept in the village of Feranbry, just 
 south of La Ferte Gaucher, which was in the hands 
 of our infantry. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 THE WINNING OF THE MARNE 
 
 Clean straw strewn on the stone flags of a farmyard 
 made a bed fit for the gods, and at four o'clock on 
 the morning of Tuesday, the 8th, I was as fresh as 
 a daisy and ready and eager for further push to the 
 north. 
 
 Feranbry was a woe-begone sight on that lovely 
 September morning. The Germans had dirtied the 
 town inconceivably, smashing and looting the little 
 shops and the dwelling houses. Many dead horses 
 were scattered about the town. 
 
 We were treated to a wonderful surprise. As we 
 started for La Ferte Gaucher the sky along the 
 eastern horizon showed salmon pink and palest blue. 
 The fields by the roadside were full of cavalry units 
 and batteries of guns. Regiments advancing over 
 the meadows in line of squadrons, an imposing array; 
 batteries, belated, galloping into position with an 
 inspiring rattle and bang over any and all obstruc- 
 tions; motor-cycles dodging and panting past less 
 swift users of the road; and even the push-bicyclists 
 putting every ounce of energy into their pedalling — 
 it was good to be alive that morning as the salmon 
 in the east changed to pale gold and the blue to tur- 
 quoise. 
 
 Over the brow of the steep hill leading down into 
 La Ferte a splendid panorama was spread below. 
 The white buildings, red-capped with roofs of tile, 
 
 117 
 
n8 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 nestled in the valley and the rolling hills, well- 
 wooded, rose beyond in myriad shades of green. 
 Away to the right we could see French cavalry 
 mounting the far rise. The morning air was heady 
 as wine. The sun mounting upward, gathered all 
 the rainbow hues of the sky into one great flaming 
 ball, that gave promise of scorching heat when the 
 delightfully cool morning breezes had left us. 
 
 La Ferte was cruelly smashed; the bridge over 
 the Grand Morin blown up, but repaired for our 
 passage. By the roadside at the top of the steep 
 hill to the northward were slight trenches full of 
 sleeping Tommies, lying rifle in hand. 
 
 Dense woods opened out into fields covered with 
 signs of German bivouacs. Broken bottles were 
 strewn everywhere. Dead Germans in ones and 
 twos by the roadside, and dead horses in numbers, 
 already fouled the pure air. 
 
 A German aeroplane soared above us. We were 
 used enough to see enemy aircraft, but that morning 
 the numerous troops were in the mood for action of 
 some sort, and the appearance of the air scout was 
 the signal for every man with a rifle to have a shot 
 at the aerial target. The machine-guns began it, 
 and when the infantry joined in a roll of sound 
 swelled about us like the roar of a battle. On came 
 the aeroplane, sailing high above in apparent safety. 
 When it came over us our troopers took up the chal- 
 lenge. The bugles were ordered to sound " Stop 
 firing," but were unheard in the din. Higher and 
 higher soared the plane, and the rifles behind us 
 popped intermittently, then settled into a rattle and 
 roll as ours had done. 
 
 But all to no effect, as far as one could see. 
 
THE WINNING OF THE MARNE 119 
 
 On to the north we went through Rebais, more 
 war-scarred than any of her sister towns to the 
 south. Houses burnt and burning on either side of 
 the street, dead Germans and dead horses so numer- 
 ous they failed to attract more than a passing glance, 
 the marks of shell-fire here and there — Rebais had 
 seen a hard fight and bore the traces of it. 
 
 The Germans had been in Rebais two days, the 
 townsfolk said. 
 
 I had orders to proceed to La Tretoire, but a 
 kilometre from the town I found the 1st reserve line 
 of the 4th Guards Brigade lying on the grass and 
 waiting orders to move up and join the stiff fight the 
 Coldstreams were having in the town in front of us. 
 
 Our field-guns on left and right were in action, and 
 German shrapnel were bursting just ahead. The 
 2nd Division of Haig's Corps was spread along the 
 road from Rebais, the tired men asleep by the road- 
 way in all postures and positions. 
 
 The wounded from the fight in La Tretoire 
 trickled back in increasing numbers. 
 
 Clouds had gathered and the day became suddenly 
 cool. The reserve line moved up where the rattle of 
 small arms told of the thick of the battle and our 
 guns hammered away like mad. 
 
 One of General Haig's staff officers told me 
 100,000 Russians had come through England via 
 Archangel, and were in Ostend. The story spread 
 like wildfire, and I heard it from a score of others 
 before the day was over. 
 
 The 2nd Cavalry Brigade had crossed the fields 
 to the right. Putting the car at the stubble, I left the 
 road and followed. 
 
 Watching batteries for a time, then moving on 
 
120 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 after the advancing squadrons, I reached the tiny 
 village of Mont Vaudron, opposite the Petit Morin 
 from the town of Sablonnieres. Leaving the car in 
 the shelter of a stout stone house, I crept down the 
 hill to a point of vantage from which I could see the 
 bridge below and the town to the right across the 
 little river. 
 
 The German shrapnel were bursting on my right 
 and behind me. Our shells were singing overhead, 
 and bursting on the hill across the stream. 
 
 Down the wooded hill went the 4th Dragoon 
 Guards and into the thick foliage. For a moment 
 they flashed into sight as they dashed across the ap- 
 proach to the bridge. Straight on they rode, full 
 into and over a mud parapet that the enemy had 
 hastily thrown up across the further end of the 
 bridge. After them ran the kilt-clad forms of a 
 Battalion of Jocks, who charged the town in the face 
 of a heavy fire from in and behind the buildings. 
 Sooner than it takes to tell it, the Scots, who, I 
 later learned, were the Black Watch, had put to 
 rout those of the enemy that were not killed or cap- 
 tured. Unable to catch more than fleeting glimpses 
 of the fighting, I could see we had won the bridge 
 and the town. Gaining my car, I wound down the 
 roadway past a number of our dead, along the steep 
 descent, and over the bridge to a group of thirty 
 German prisoners, who had been taken in the town. 
 
 Pushing on up the long, winding, wooded hill to 
 Hondevillers, I reached the town with our advance 
 patrols, the last German disappearing over a farm- 
 yard wall and into the cover of the woods as we hove 
 in sight. 
 
 Searching for General de Lisle, I ran to Le Petit 
 
THE WINNING OF THE MARNE 121 
 
 Villers. There a couple of batteries of 1 8-pounders, 
 soon to be reinforced by a couple more, were send- 
 ing shrapnel as fast as they could fire into the 
 retreating enemy. 
 
 A cloud of dust on the roadway on a distant hill- 
 side would tell of a line of enemy transport chased by 
 our shells, while in the nearer distance a dozen shrap- 
 nel, well-placed in a cluster of houses, sent the Ger- 
 mans scurrying up the hillside like so many rabbits. 
 
 General Monro, commanding the 2nd Division, 
 stood by the batteries, and watched the fleeting 
 enemy with intense interest. All were engrossed 
 with the work of the gunners, the noise being inces- 
 sant and deafening. Suddenly, from a wood 800 
 yards to the left of us, a volley of Mauser bullets 
 came. The Germans had crept into the edge of the 
 trees and let fly at short range. There was a quick 
 scamper for cover. Backing the car down the road 
 into the protection of a wall, I found myself in a 
 lane that had been chosen as an avenue for the bat- 
 tery horses and limbers. 
 
 A detachment of the Highland Light Infantry was 
 on the double for a point where they could stop the 
 fire on the batteries, which were spattering away 
 merrily. Rain started to fall. I raised my hood, 
 getting a bullet through it a moment later. Told in 
 strenuous language that I was in the way, I dashed 
 down a lane that ended in a ploughed field. For- 
 tunately it was dry, so I made my way back to Hon- 
 devillers, and from there to Basseville, our night 
 quarters. Fairclough and I made a night journey to 
 La Tretoire in search of our Brigade cyclists, but 
 could not find them. 
 
 After a late and meagre dinner, I tried to sleep in 
 
122 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 the tonneau of the car, which proved cramped quar- 
 ters for my somewhat ample proportions, and when 
 called at 2.45 on the morning of Wednesday, the 
 9th, I woke stiff and cold. An egg, a cracker, and a 
 cup of black coffee warmed me, and we were soon 
 on the road in the dark, headed for the Marne. 
 
 The crossing of the River Marne promised, we 
 thought, a hard and costly fight. The rapid retreat 
 of the Germans, withal we were hard on their heels, 
 was more orderly than might have been expected. 
 Little, indeed, did they leave behind except their 
 dead. At La Tretoire we heard that the 1st Corps 
 had captured men and guns, but that portion of the 
 enemy's rearguard with which the cavalry had to 
 deal succeeded in keeping his guns well out of our 
 grasp. 
 
 Challenged every few minutes by sentries guarding 
 sleeping detachments along the lesser lanes, twisting 
 here and there in a vain endeavour to find anyone 
 who knew the general route of any particular unit 
 save his own, I lost the 2nd Cavalry Brigade before 
 dawn that morning. Proceeding straight where I 
 should have turned, I pushed past regiments of 
 slowly moving cavalry until a peremptory order to 
 put out the sidelights of my car, accompanied by the 
 information that not even a cigarette was allowed 
 thereabouts, led me to ask where I was. 
 
 " On the road to Nogent, and but a short way 
 from it," was the reply, " and not far from the head 
 of the 1st Cavalry Brigade." 
 
 Truly, thought I, a bit of luck. Briggs, I knew, 
 had been assigned the attack on the bridge across the 
 Marne at Nogent-l'Artraud, which lay midway be- 
 tween La Ferte St. Jouarre, which was to be taken by 
 
THE WINNING OF THE MARNE 123 
 
 Pulteney's 3rd Corps, and Chateau-Thierry, where 
 the 1 st Corps was to force the passage of the river. 
 
 The line of the Marne, many of us thought, would 
 be stubbornly held by the enemy. 
 
 Briggs, his Brigade confirmed, was to take, the 
 Nogent bridge at daybreak. We waited on the hill 
 above, the tall trees looming taller still in the dim 
 light of the earliest morning. 
 
 Straining our ears, we heard no sound of firing. 
 Daybreak came and passed, and still no guns. Not 
 even a rifle-shot sounded from the valley below us. 
 
 It was an eerie vigil. We wondered what had gone 
 wrong, when the show would commence, and whether 
 the enemy would shell the main road on which we 
 were waiting, in what was no doubt fair range of his 
 guns across the river. 
 
 A French liaison officer chatted cheerily. He told 
 us Maunoury had a strong line from Meaux north 
 along the Ourcq, and would soon be across it and en- 
 dangering the existence of Von Kluck's right and 
 rear. He told us, too, of a savage battle for Mont- 
 mirail the night before — he had just come from 
 somewhere down that way — and how d'Esperey had 
 taken the town at the point of the bayonet, and was 
 ready to push forward on our right. 
 
 As five o'clock came without noise of battle, I 
 drove on. Just above the town of Nogent, which is 
 on the south bank of the river, a bicycle orderly 
 stood panting from his exertions in coaxing his ma- 
 chine up the hill. He was the bearer of good news. 
 The Germans had prepared the bridge for defence 
 in a most careful manner, and guarded it till 4.30. 
 Some said it was mined. At all events it was well- 
 nigh impassable. At 4.30, for some inexplicable 
 
i2 4 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 reason, the enemy evacuated the position, and fled 
 without firing a shot, just as our advance guard 
 reached the approach to the bridge. 
 
 I thereupon lost no time in reaching the bridge. 
 Our troops were still crossing it. Briggs was swing- 
 ing a regiment up the hill preparatory to getting our 
 guns on the higher ground without delay. 
 
 Colonel Tommy Pitman, of the nth Hussars, 
 who had started for Nogent at half-past one in the 
 morning, showed me the evidences of the thorough 
 manner in which the enemy had blocked the way. 
 The railway-gates at the south end of the bridge had 
 been wound about with wire. Carts and obstruc- 
 tions all the way across had been woven into barri- 
 cades with lengths of wire. 
 
 Colonel Pitman said his men were hard at work 
 for three-quarters of an hour cutting their way 
 through. And that without molestation from the 
 Germans, the last one of whom was seen departing 
 by motor-car in the distance, as the nth came 
 through Nogent. Walking over the bridge I strolled 
 down the steep bank to the river's edge, meditating 
 on the ease with which we had crossed the Marne, 
 and with difficulty realising that I then stood on its 
 northern bank. 
 
 The ground was strewn with bedding and miscel- 
 laneous loot. A mess of potatoes, pared and wash* 3 
 to an inviting whiteness, sat in a pot of water placed 
 on carefully prepared twigs waiting the match. Just 
 before daybreak, said an aged riverman, the Bosches 
 had moved all the barges and boats from the south 
 bank and moored them on the opposite side. A 
 novice could see the German departure from Nogent 
 was a surprise to the enemy rearguard. 
 
THE WINNING OF THE MARNE 125 
 
 Regaining the bridge I watched long lines of our 
 2nd Corps infantry file past. Guns had begun long 
 since, away to the west, and told of an argument over 
 the crossing of the river at La Ferte St. Jouarre. 
 There the 3rd Corps was to fight well through the 
 day without winning the passage of the Marne until 
 the German defenders of the town were compelled 
 to retire by other 3rd Corps troops, who had 
 crossed the stream further west at Changis. 
 
 At 7.30 our guns on the hill behind us dropped a 
 couple of shrapnel on the ridge in front. A couple 
 of minutes later the air was full of the sound of 
 whistling shells as they sped high above the valley, 
 bursting over the wooded crests to the north. White 
 clouds in miniature lined the heights. 
 
 I was admiring the picture when a horseman came 
 down the road and up to the bridge at a gallop. It 
 was General Briggs. 
 
 " That your car? " he questioned sharply. " Yes, 
 sir." " Go like the devil to that battery and stop its 
 firing. It is shelling my men." 
 
 I went up the hill road, blocked with two descend- 
 ing lines of ammunition trains and regiment on regi- 
 ment of foot soldiers, at a speed which would have 
 caused a Surrey magistrate to search the statute- 
 books for the extreme penalty of the law, had I been 
 driving at such a rate on the Brighton road. 
 
 Luckily I found General Findlay, of the Royal 
 Artillery, without delay and delivered my message, 
 which I was told to repeat to a Brigade C.R.A. fur- 
 ther to the rear. That mission accomplished I pro- 
 ceeded more leisurely down to Nogent again, and 
 thence to Romeny, on the Chateau-Thierry road, 
 searching for news of the 2nd Cavalry Brigade. 
 
126 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 Dippers of delicious fresh milk, proffered by 
 charming French lassies, were ample excuse for a 
 momentary halt. Stories of the fleeing Germans 
 were on every lip. For two days and nights the 
 hated invader had been pouring north in two lines 
 through Charly and Chezy. The Germans, but few 
 of whom passed Romeny, laughed at the villagers, 
 they said, some of them crying out as they passed 
 that they were Anglais, et bon amis. Whereat the 
 French girls chattered their disapproval. The Ger- 
 man smiles fell on barren soil in Romeny, where the 
 true French hearts beat hot with hate of the Bosche, 
 be he ever so genial to the non-combatant by the 
 way. 
 
 " Rattle " Barrett, with an echelon of the 2nd 
 Brigade transport, put in a welcome appearance, 
 and suggested my looking for General de Lisle 
 toward Chezy, to the westward. By half-past nine 
 I had found him with General Allenby, at a farm 
 south of Chezy. We pressed on the north, our ob- 
 jective being the village of Le Tholet, a few kilo- 
 metres west of Chateau-Thierry, which had seen a 
 stubborn fight. 
 
 The valley of the Marne afforded a beautiful view. 
 White, fleecy cloudlets sailed lazily in a perfect blue 
 sky. Chezy took the romance out of the panorama 
 round about, however. Its churchyard was littered 
 and its buildings smashed. The Germans left what 
 had been a quaint, clean little town, dirty and foul 
 with their passing. We climbed slowly up Mont de 
 Bonneil after crossing the Marne. At noontide the 
 heat was intense. 
 
 I followed Generals Allenby and de Lisle and the 
 Divisional and Brigade Staffs across country. The 
 
THE WINNING OF THE MARNE 127 
 
 dry stubble and hard meadows, free of fence or 
 hedge, allowed ample scope for scouting a point of 
 vantage whereby to cross the few ditches, and my 
 progress was watched with interest by the mounted 
 officers. A halt was made when the main Paris- 
 Chateau Thierry road was reached. 
 
 News came that Baker-Carr, one of the R.A.C., 
 leading half-a-dozen other cars, had declined the 
 cross-country run and pushed on to Coupru. Ap- 
 proaching the village at a smart pace, a rifle volley 
 stopped them short at a thousand yards. Such a 
 competition in rapid backing and quick turning en- 
 sued as is rarely seen at the most lively gymkhana. 
 Good luck for the little cavalcade of cars that the 
 Germans opened fire at a distance, instead of waiting 
 till their quarry had reached a sure range. Fortu- 
 nately, none of the accupants of the cars were hit, 
 though more than one of the vehicles bore marks of 
 Mauser bullets. 
 
 A squadron of the 18th Hussars was sent to round 
 up the enemy, and soon returned with a couple of 
 dozen prisoners in tow, having killed the officer in 
 command of the detachment and four or five of his 
 men. 
 
 A strong, fine-looking lot, the prisoners. From 
 Schleswig-Holstein, they said. Looked more like 
 Danes than Germans. They were frankly glad to be 
 out of the further fighting. 
 
 I spent the afternoon watching our gunners smash 
 away at retreating columns of enemy transport, tear- 
 ing northwards from Chateau-Thierry, where the 1st 
 Corps had captured a number of prisoners, we were 
 told, and a gun or two after a stiff fight. 
 
 Our night quarters were a near-by farm. I awoke 
 
128 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 on the morning of Thursday, September ioth, with a 
 dawning realisation of the fact that the passage of 
 the Marne was gained, and a great strategical vic- 
 tory had been won by the Allies. 
 
 We were well across the river as far east as 
 Chateau-Thierry, where our right had been reached 
 by d'Esperey's left. The news from further east 
 was vague, but rumours of a great victory on the far 
 right were afloat. 
 
 The Germans were on the run in earnest, and all 
 was going well. Exactly what Maunoury on our 
 extreme left and Foch in front of Chalons had ac- 
 complished was as yet unknown to us, but rumour 
 was persistently cheerful. 
 
 So good was my bed of straw in the great yard of 
 the farm that the rain at half-past two in the morn- 
 ing well soaked my clothing before I wakened suffi- 
 ciently to realise the advisability of changing my 
 billet for the drier, if less comfortable, shelter of the 
 tonneau of the car. 
 
 There I slept so soundly that at four o'clock, when 
 a member of the Staff called me, breakfast was over, 
 and I was told I had best be ready to depart in- 
 stanter. A good-hearted woman of the household 
 gave me a quart or so of milk in lieu of the breakfast 
 I had missed. 
 
 An attempt to move my car was utterly abortive. 
 At that most inconvenient of seasons I learned much 
 of the theory of construction of a French farmyard. 
 Built as it was in the form of a square or quadrangle, 
 the centre devoted to an accumulation of manure and 
 general refuse, one was wise to keep to the stone 
 paved roadway round the sides. 
 
 Barrett and I had arrived " home " tired out at 
 
THE WINNING OF THE MARNE 129 
 
 11.30 p.m., and I had run the car well off the firm, 
 stone-paved portion of the farm courtyard. The 
 morning found it a couple of feet below the surface 
 of the surrounding fringe of roadway. I enlisted the 
 sympathy and assistance of the farmer, and the car 
 was brought to firm ground by a team of fine French 
 draught horses. This badly bent the car's back axle. 
 Later, a cyclist informed me that this was a blessing 
 in disguise, for, if ordered to follow my car, he could 
 always depend on marking its passage by its pecul- 
 iarly unorthodox wheel tracks. 
 
 Some 1st Division troops filed through the farm 
 while the rescue work was in progress. Proceeding 
 to the Paris-Chateau Thierry road, I was ordered by 
 General de Lisle to take charge of our two-seated 
 brigade car, the motor cyclists and the common or 
 garden cyclists, and keep on to the right of the 
 Brigade, which was to proceed across country to the 
 northward. I obeyed these orders until I was in- 
 formed I was leading my mixed, if small, command 
 over somewhat new territory in the sense that no 
 patrols had preceded us, when I changed my plans, 
 and returned whence I had come with all my follow- 
 ing. 
 
 Starting again, I followed the advance of the 1st 
 Division to the left of the cavalry. Passing the long 
 lines of infantry and many batteries was trying work. 
 It was seven o'clock before I reached the head of the 
 Division. Past Lucy and Torcy we went discussing 
 at times with passing officers the wonder we felt that 
 the retreating enemy took no advantage of such 
 splendid positions. Just north of Torcy I reached 
 the head of the Sussex Regiment, which was in the 
 lead. In front was Captain Nicholson with a squad- 
 
130 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 ron of 15th Hussars, Divisional Cavalry to the 1st 
 Division. 
 
 Up a long steep hill into the village of Courchamps, 
 the Scouts informing us of Germans just ahead and 
 then a halt for a moment and a chat with the vil- 
 lagers. 
 
 " For five days and nights," said a woman, who was 
 busy filling bowls of fine, fresh milk for the soldiers 
 without a thought of remuneration, " the Germans 
 have hurried northwards." The bulk of the retreat- 
 ing invaders had passed two days before, but sonifc 
 infantry went by later. The German cavalry were 
 in the village an hour and a half before us. The vil- 
 lagers said many guns were with the German col- 
 umns. 
 
 A drizzling day. Shortly after eight o'clock we 
 halted in front of the town of Priez. On our left a 
 transport column of the enemy raced northward, and 
 shortly afterwards we could see a line of motor 
 lorries away on our right tearing along at high speed, 
 as though belated to a point of great danger and in 
 full realisation of it. 
 
 A fierce cannonade on our left told us of the 3rd 
 Corps at La Ferte-Jouarre. 
 
 General Bulfin, commanding the 1st Brigade, 
 asked me to what I was attached. On learning I was 
 with the cavalry he bemoaned the fact that the cav- 
 alry were not on his left, as the fast disappearing 
 transport of the enemy would have fallen an easy 
 prey to one of our Cavalry Brigades on that flank. 
 
 Major Frazer, of General Allenby's staff, drove 
 by at nine o'clock, and asked why I was making no 
 progress toward joining the Cavalry Division. I 
 explained that the only available road to the east 
 
THE WINNING OF THE MARNE 131 
 
 had but recently been reached by the infantry ad- 
 vance, and was even then being fired over by the 
 machine-guns dinning away a few hundred yards in 
 front of us. 
 
 Priez lay in a valley. The top of the slope be- 
 yond was plainly visible from where we stood. 
 Eulfin's brigade was advancing up the far hillside as 
 we chatted, and nearing the crest. An ideal spot, I 
 thought, for a stiff German rearguard action. 
 
 Frazer suggested our proceeding as far as the 
 village. I accompanied him, leaving my convoy of 
 cycles behind. We dismounted from our cars in the 
 hollow, after passing the village proper. The de- 
 ployed lines — consisting of Sussex and South Hants 
 Regiments — had reached the crown of the hill in 
 front. Their arrival was the signal for the com- 
 mencement of a very pretty little fight. 
 
 The rifle fire grew in volume until singing bullets 
 were so frequent at the point we had chosen that I 
 took cover in a roadside ditch. My attention was 
 arrested by the frantic efforts of a scared woman to 
 close the shutters of an adjacent house, the side of 
 which was being well peppered. 
 
 Turning from my momentary aberration, I discov- 
 ered that Frazer's car had returned from whence it 
 had come. A lonesome feeling coming over me, I 
 left the ditch and the car, and ran across the road 
 to the shelter of a bank, behind which a number of 
 the Sussex Regiment were taking cover. I found the 
 detachment was A Company, Captain Bond com- 
 manding. 
 
 After a quarter of an hour of enjoyment of good 
 shelter from the increasing Mauser pellets, an order 
 came to A Company to advance up the hill to the 
 
132 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 firing line. They started off to the right, taking such 
 cover as the low bank afforded. A disinclination to 
 be left alone in such a warm corner led me to accom- 
 pany them. 
 
 The enemy had succeeded in driving back the left 
 of the British line, which enabled them to cover our 
 advance up the hill from our left flank. A number 
 of our party were hit, particularly at an open space 
 fifty feet in extent, where the bank at the roadside 
 was quite unnecessarily low. The two men imme- 
 diately in front of me and the man just behind me 
 were hit, all three being wounded in the head. 
 
 The German guns opened on the village behind us 
 and the slope away to the rear. Our guns replied, 
 but their range was short, some of the shells bursting 
 over us. 
 
 To me the situation seemed somewhat bizarre. 
 Our enjoyment of our surroundings was by no means 
 augmented by one of the Sussex men from the line 
 in front, who came running back with the news of a 
 general retirement. Rifle fire in front, rifle fire from 
 our left, and shrapnel from both front and rear, 
 made us wonder whether retirement was not less 
 wise than staying where we were. But orders are 
 orders, so we headed down the slope for the village. 
 
 Reaching the fifty-foot gap, a couple of bold ones 
 rushed at it, only to fall before they had got across. 
 That part of our journey must, it seemed, be taken 
 in full sight of the enemy. While pausing and con- 
 templating this fact, a herd of a score or more cows 
 galloped, bellowing, down the hedge-side in the field 
 by us. Suddenly blessed with an inspiration, we 
 sprinted down the road in the lee of the barrier thus 
 providentially imposed between us and our friends 
 
THE WINNING OF THE MARNE 133 
 
 the enemy. " We're all right so long as the beef 
 holds out," panted a Tommy, as the bullets went 
 " puck-puck " into the cattle. 
 
 In a matter of seconds I had reached the car, and 
 was mentally consigning it and its contents to the 
 Bosches, when a major of the Sussex battalion asked 
 me if I would take it back with as many of the 
 wounded as we could pack on it. I was of the belief 
 that any occupant of a car that tried to pass through 
 the village and up the slope in plain sight of the 
 enemy, and in the 1 direct path of his shrapnel, would 
 stand little chance of escape, but the wounded were 
 tossed into the tonneau, into the front seats, on the 
 folded hood at the rear, and all about, wherever 
 space could be found. I jumped into the driving 
 seat, and backed the car to the cross-roads in the 
 town, suffering a collision with a wall en route. 
 
 The car's steps were lined with soldiers, and one 
 was mounted on a front wing. 
 
 " Now, boys," I said, as I headed the car round 
 for the dash up the hill, " the rise is steep, and this 
 is no ' General ' omnibus. All that are not wounded 
 hop off, and I'll see if I can get the rest out of it." 
 
 With a cheery word they jumped off, except one, 
 who stood on the step at my side. 
 
 " Are you hit? " I queried. 
 
 " No, but I'm all right. I won't fall off, guv'nor," 
 he replied with a grin. 
 
 " If you are bound to come with us," said I, " vault 
 up behind me and stick on." 
 
 He did so, and as I felt his hand on my shoulder 
 I looked up at him and remarked, "I've got you be- 
 tween me and the Germans whatever happens." 
 
 But we found that ride no joke. 
 
134 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 Up the hill we crawled. My load was eleven, 
 some badly hit. Two cyclists in front gave promise 
 of blocking the way as we gathered speed, but a shell 
 burst over us that knocked one of the pair off his 
 wheel. He careered into his fellow; the pair rolled 
 into the ditch together. Bang! went another shell, 
 seemingly a few feet over us. Four men from a 
 group ahead of us were hit, so falling that they 
 almost blocked the roadway. Bullets sang all about. 
 Someone hanging on one of the steps was hit, and 
 cried out as he dropped off. As the slope became less 
 steep I overtook an ammunition limber, the team — 
 minus driver — in full flight toward the rear. Off 
 the road and into the dry stubble field I guided the 
 groaning car, past the tired horses, galloping their 
 poor best, and into the road again, urged, by a quar- 
 tette of shrapnel that seemed to burst — oh! — so 
 close to us ! 
 
 A mile or so in the rear, we found a hastily im- 
 provised hospital, in a field by the road, where I 
 delivered my load. An orderly came to me as I 
 drove up, saying laconically, " Wounded? " " Yes," 
 I answered, " all but one." Turning, I sought the 
 persistent one whom I had mounted at my back. 
 
 " / stopped one, coming up the hill," said the ob- 
 ject of my remark, with a grin — " I stopped one 
 proper, I did!" And as he disentangled his feet 
 from those of a sadly wounded comrade on whom 
 he had been supporting himself, he opened his tunic 
 and showed me a blood-soaked side. " Through," 
 he explained. " Might have got you if I hadn't been 
 there," he added, " So maybe it was just as well. I 
 couldn't have brought the others back in this thing." 
 And he grinned again as I put him down where the 
 
THE WINNING OF THE MARNE 135 
 
 orderlies could get him. " Good luck, son," I said, 
 with a lump in my throat. His teeth were set as he 
 was borne by two hospital men to where the doctors 
 could attend to him. 
 
 As they took him down the bank the corners of 
 his mouth twitched in another half-smile, and he said, 
 " Thanks. Don't you worry about me ; Pm all right. 
 It's nothing! " 
 
 I have often thought of him, and hoped he came 
 through in good shape. His spirit was so very, very 
 fine. 
 
 Wiping some of the red off the cushions of the car, 
 I turned it again towards Priez, and ran as far as a 
 haystack, to the right of the road. The rain had 
 ceased. I sat with some of the King's Royal Rifles 
 in the lee of the stack for a time. Shrapnel was 
 bursting near by. Two big high-explosive shells went 
 over us, and lit not far behind. Some of General 
 Lomax's staff and a number of 1st Division officers 
 were in front of the stack. I joined them and dis- 
 tributed some chocolate I had in the car, which was 
 very cheerily greeted. Shells came closer. As an 
 excuse to get back for a breathing space, I picked up 
 three or four passing wounded, to take them to the 
 dressing station. No sooner had I started than a 
 blinding flash in front, and a black smoke cloud in 
 our eyes and nostrils, told of the arrival of another 
 high-explosive shell. It had lit in the road, striking 
 two mounted orderlies. The horses and men were 
 literally blown to pieces, and the road scarred with 
 a huge hole. 
 
 One poor chap in the car was so near gone when 
 we arrived at the hospital that his chances were de- 
 clared by the doctor to be one in a thousand. 
 
136 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 Through the middle of the day and into the early 
 afternoon our guns hammered at the enemy. An- 
 other infantry Brigade was sent up and forced the 
 Germans to retire. The action was only a rearguard 
 fight, but the considerable number of wounded in 
 the dressing station, and all along the road, told of 
 the efficiency of it. A constant procession of stretch- 
 ers went past. General Findlay, seated beside the 
 road, not far from the haystack that gave me shelter 
 for a time, was hit by shrapnel and killed. 
 
 The Sussex Regiment lost heavily. Not only were 
 their casualties considerable, but among the list 
 were some of their best officers. Altogether, Priez 
 cost us between three and four hundred killed and 
 wounded. 
 
 Shortly after mid-day one of General Lomax's 
 staff asked me to take a message to General Allenby. 
 
 This required my going south, and then turning 
 east and north again. The left of d'Esperey's 5th 
 Army was in touch with our right. Passing Grisolles 
 and Rocourt, and proceeding north toward Oulchy- 
 le-Chateau I saw many French troops, but could get 
 no word of Allenby. I watched a couple of batteries 
 of 75's shell Oulchy. The French officers were very 
 friendly. As the white shell clouds burst against the 
 dark green foliage in front we chatted of prospective 
 victory. They were pleased when I told them that 
 one of our Divisions, checked for a moment at Priez, 
 had taken it and pushed on to shell Neuilly-St. Front. 
 Soissons and Braisnes were their objectives, the 
 French officers said. 
 
 I pushed on to a high point, and at last met Gen- 
 eral Allenby, whom I had almost despaired of find- 
 ing. I delivered my message, and mounting a hay- 
 
THE WINNING OF THE MARNE 137 
 
 stack watched the French infantry attack north of 
 Oulchy, supported by French and English batteries. 
 
 In the evening, with General de Lisle, I visited 
 Grisolles, Latilly, Nanteuil and Rozet-Ablin. These 
 little towns in the valley of the Ourcq were charming 
 in their simple beauty. The Germans had not 
 stopped long nor done much damage thereabouts. 
 The coming of the Allies had restored confidence in 
 the twinkling of an eye. Already the peasant folk 
 were at work digging their hidden stores of flour 
 from out their straw stacks. 
 
 Captain Barrett and I spent most of the night 
 searching for our Brigade transport, which had gone 
 astray. Discovering it at last, and providing the 
 officer in charge with a map, we ran back to our night 
 quarters at Rozet. There we slept on couches in the 
 partially dismantled drawing-room of a house which 
 a villager described as the property of a French 
 Field-Marshal. Dinner having been consumed in 
 our absence, Barrett and I made a hearty meal off 
 cold soup, bread and jam, and slept soundly until 
 four o'clock the next morning. 
 
 The first hours of the next day we spent in career- 
 ing about the country for news of horse transport, 
 which had gone stubbornly astray in spite of maps 
 and instructions. Through village after village we 
 searched for a time to no avail. Three small de- 
 tachments had spent the night in the same little vil- 
 lage without any one of them being in the least aware 
 of its proximity to the others. At daybreak the three 
 had left, still unconscious that their fellows were 
 hard by, each to go in a different direction. We 
 found them all at last, after unravelling Gilbertian 
 blunders on the part of thoroughly muddled " non- 
 
138 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 corns." It is easy to laugh at such " Mix-ups " when 
 they become disentangled, but truly difficult to do 
 so until the trouble is oxer. Horse transport trains 
 breed short tempers more often than not. 
 
 Our course bore eastward, and then north for 
 Braisnes. Close to us on the right Conneau's French 
 cavalrymen were advancing. They bore signs of 
 campaign wear. Our appearance was far from pre- 
 possessing. A wash was a luxury and a shave un- 
 known. Dirty as we were I think the French were 
 dirtier. Their rusty cuirasses helped to give one such 
 an impression, as did the once white bits of trimming 
 on their uniforms. The Chasseurs d'Inde looked a 
 "wiry lot. Their baggy blue trousers, red jackets, and 
 red fez on yellow turban looked still gay, though 
 well-begrimed. Their dapper little Arabs stepped 
 gingerly, aware all eyes were on them. 
 
 We passed several groups of German prisoners. 
 General de Lisle told me our ist and 2nd Divisions 
 captured over 1,000 of the enemy the day before, 
 and with them seven guns. Later reports swelled 
 this to double the number of prisoners and guns, and 
 rumour told that machine-guns and transport had; 
 also been taken. 
 
 Breakfast in an open field found us munching 
 bully and dry bread with true ardour. For luncheon 
 we brought similar appetites to an identical menu. 
 Blinding downpours of rain fell for most of the 
 afternoon. Our forward movement was curtailed by 
 orders from above. The 9th Lancers had pressed 
 well on toward Soissons. De Lisle sent me to Maast 
 to recall them. Major Beale-Browne, commanding 
 the 9th, said Lucas Tooth's squadron was beyond 
 Nanteuil, and well up the Soissons road. Would I 
 
THE WINNING OF THE MARNE 139 
 
 run on and pass the order to reassemble ? Certainly. 
 Reaching them in the rain Lucas Tooth told me they 
 had chased the Uhlans just over a ridge beyond. One 
 of his troopers saw three or four of the enemy and 
 rode at them with a yell. They dashed back and 
 soon overtook seventy of their comrades. Catching 
 sight of the larger body the 9th trooper turned and 
 galloped for assistance. The Uhlans came on slowly 
 behind him. Gathering together the troop of which 
 he was a member, the handful started full tilt for 
 the enemy. The moment the troop came over the 
 brow of a rolling hill, and in sight of the Germans, 
 the' latter, disregarding their greatly superior num- 
 bers, turned and fled. Our cavalry was gaining a 
 sinister reputation. 
 
 We spent the night of Saturday, the 1 ith, in Arcy, 
 where a good dinner cheered us all. A hot bath in a 
 wash-tub, and a blanket-bed on the clean tiles, made 
 for solid comfort. 
 
 On the morning of Sunday, the 12th, a French 
 officer told us how well the Allied Forces were suc- 
 ceeding. Foch had pressed on and might soon be at 
 Rheims, he said. 
 
 I was with the extreme advance during the fore- 
 noon. Rifle shots close at hand; pools of fresh blood 
 in the roadway; dead horses, not yet cold, and scared 
 peasants, all told of cavalry patrols in collision at 
 daybreak. We stopped on a line of hills. Down 
 the slopes in front lay Braisnes and the crossing of 
 the Vesle. We were afforded a splendid view of the 
 field-gun battle for the river. The horizon in front 
 and away to the right, as far as the eye could reach, 
 was one long line of black or white shell-clouds. 
 Dozens, scores, hundreds of cloudlets, ever changing, 
 
I4Q FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 new ones born with every second, yet no two alike in 
 form. Before eleven we lunched. A big round loaf 
 of bread, to obtain which a kindly native walked two 
 miles, a tin of sardines, two tins of bully beef, a tin 
 of marmalade and a tot all round of wonderful Army 
 rum, provided a hearty meal, not only for our own 
 staff but for General Allenby and many of the Divis- 
 ional Staff as well. Rain fell in sheets while we were 
 lunching, our dining-room being the shelter, more 
 imaginary than real, of a small haystack. The fight 
 for Braisnes was within earshot. The Germans had 
 barricaded the bridge and the main street of the 
 town, and were putting up a strong rearguard action. 
 Some of the 3rd Division Infantry Battalions 
 trudged by at a good pace unmindful of the down- 
 pour or the mud underfoot. Many of the Tommies 
 had ponchos, some had overcoats, and here and 
 there a blanket or brown gun-cover kept off the wet. 
 Only a few of them were without protection of a 
 sort. By noon-time the bridge was taken, and a 
 couple of hours after we moved up. The Queen's 
 Bays had been in the lime-light, and greatly distin- 
 guished themselves. From the winding wooded 
 road down into the valley the hills across the river 
 loomed grey-green in a rain-mist. On the bank by 
 the way lay the dead body of Bertram Stewart of 
 the Intelligence, who had taken a rifle and gone 
 down to lend a hand. Beyond him a wounded 
 trooper sat propped against a milestone gasping 
 with pain. Across the bridge we came upon a 
 broken bit of loop-holed wall, then a barricade of 
 sand-bags in the street, a score or more of German 
 prisoners, a crowded ambulance, and behind it an 
 old rickety one-horse landau, creeping slowly so as 
 
THE WINNING OF THE MARNE 141 
 
 not to jar the wounded soldier stretched on a door 
 laid crosswise over the carriage superstructure. The 
 main thoroughfare was full of infantry. The 1st 
 Cavalry Brigade that had taken Braisnes was on 
 ahead, winning the German positions on the slopes 
 beyond the town. Shops were emptied in short order 
 of what little the Germans had left untouched. A 
 dear old Sister of Mercy, not five feet tall, found 
 me endeavouring to make a purchase of viands of 
 some sort and took me under her wing. Calls on 
 storekeepers proving futile she guided me to a pre- 
 tentious dwelling. Here we found an old lady who 
 gave me a half a loaf of bread, a small pat of but- 
 ter, and a bottle of wine for our mess. She could 
 not be induced to take any remuneration. A shell 
 hole had ruined the grass plot in the centre of her 
 dainty garden, having first passed through her bed- 
 room. The Germans had demanded her keys at 
 the point of a pistol and had well ransacked her 
 house, she said. She was a sweet old lady. How 
 a human being could maltreat her I could not 
 imagine. 
 
 The fight for the hill north of Braisnes was not 
 over, but after half-an-hour's wait behind a hay- 
 stack outside the town I was allowed to proceed. 
 At the base of the hill our shrapnel had played on 
 the roadway with deadly accuracy. The ditches 
 were full of dead and wounded Germans. The 
 steep slopes were lined with well-made trenches one 
 above another. On up the winding road that 
 mounted the slope we toiled, three lines abreast, 
 squadrons of cavalry, lines of ammunition wagons, 
 motor-cars and horse-guns all together. The rifle 
 and rapid gun-fire from the crown of the hill was 
 
142 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 still telling of the stubborn fight while we were 
 crawling round the lower curves of the ascent. As 
 I gained the crest I saw a group of over ioo Ger- 
 man prisoners and piles of broken German rifles 
 by the road. Still more lines of trenches disfigured 
 the fields on either side. 
 
 Our billet for the night was the quaint village of 
 Longueval, less than two miles from the Aisne. I 
 was alone in the car with General de Lisle when we 
 entered the village. We were well ahead of our 
 troops. Personally, I felt some qualms at such a 
 reconnaissance, but we found no Germans there- 
 abouts. The people were most cordial in their wel- 
 come, and told us the enemy's troops had been bil 
 leted on them for the past ten days. A big stone 
 farm with an ample yard housed the headquarters' 
 contingent. After dinner, I took Raymond Hamil- 
 ton-Grace to General Allenby's headquarters for 
 orders. That run in the dark, rain, wind and mud, 
 was a veritable nightmare. Several times care- 
 fully-followed instructions as to the localisation of 
 Divisional Headquarters were proved to have been 
 utterly wrong. Once we went past our last outpost 
 and into the light of the still burning ruins of farms 
 beyond it. When we at last located the head of 
 the Division, we found it planted in an awful hole, 
 approachable only through a sea of mud. Our 
 quest for orders was in vain, as no orders had yet 
 been issued. I had hoped for a letter from home, 
 as not one line from London had reached me since 
 my departure nearly a month before. But no let- 
 ter awaited me. It was late when we returned to 
 Longueval, and a bundle of straw on a stone floor 
 made a tempting bed. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 WINE FROM A MOUNTAIN CAVE 
 
 On the morning of Sunday, the 13th, no less an 
 undertaking than the crossing of the Aisne was to 
 fall to the lot of the caalry. Orders had come for 
 a general advance. The 1st and 2nd Cavalry Bri- 
 gades were to move north. The 2nd Cavalry Bri- 
 gade was to reconnoitre the river crossings from 
 Villers to Pont-Arcy. 
 
 The item of the greatest interest to me in the 
 daily orders was the point given as the general ob- 
 jective of the Brigade. No matter how impossible 
 for motor-cars the country which de Lisle would 
 traverse with his troopers, if I knew the objective, 
 I would be there before his arrival, or close after it. 
 The point given as the 2nd Cavalry Brigade objec- 
 tive that 13th of September, was Chamomile, a vil- 
 lage some ten kilometres due north from Bourg, on 
 the road to Laon. Night did not find us at Cha- 
 momile. True, we were to cross the Aisne on that 
 day, and to do so in unexpectedly good time. Cha- 
 momile, however, we were not to see that day, nor 
 the next. Nor have English or French troops set 
 foot in that village yet, though another 13th Sep- 
 tember has come and gone. 
 
 At 4.30 a sergeant came in with the report that 
 the bridge across the Aisne at Villers had been 
 found destroyed, and a pontoon bridge had been 
 
 143 
 
144 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 had been constructed within fifty yards of it. A bit 
 later came a report from Bourg. The bridge there 
 also was destroyed, but a nearer bridge over a canal 
 that ran parallel to and south of the river had been 
 left intact. More important, a third bridge in the 
 vicinity, by which an aqueduct was carried over the 
 main stream of the river, was still standing. If 
 that bridge could be rushed, the passage of the 
 Aisne would be secured and a way made for the 
 advance of the troops of the ist Infantry Division 
 behind us. 
 
 Daylight struggled through the haze just before 
 five o'clock, and showed us a lowering sky. A 
 sharp burst of heavy rain fell. 
 
 The 9th Lancers and the 4th Dragoon Guards 
 were ordered to take the Bourg bridge at five 
 o'clock, and effect a crossing of the river. 
 
 Why we were allowed to get over the Aisne with 
 so comparatively little opposition at Bourg will 
 probably never be known. Some German had blun- 
 dered, and blundered badly. A couple of batteries 
 of our field-guns gave the town a sound shelling, 
 and the dismounted troopers surged across the canal 
 bridge. At the far side the damaged river bridge 
 gaped before them. On their left was the aqueduct 
 bridge. Behind its embankment were German in- 
 fantry with a machine-gun. Their position ren- 
 dered them safe from our shells, and gave them 
 opportunity to pour a fire into the flank of our at- 
 tack, almost into its rear. Nothing remained but to 
 rush the enemy, which was done most gallantly, 
 and with gratifying success. The 4th D.G.'s lost 
 Captain Fitzgerald and four or five men killed at 
 the bridge, and the 9th Lancers suffered some cas- 
 
WINE FROM A MOUNTAIN CAVE 145 
 
 ualties, but, considering the advantage gained and 
 the importance of the crossing, the resistance was 
 absurdly slight. When the aqueduct bridge was 
 finally won, and the Germans who defended it dis- 
 lodged or killed, great was our amazement at the 
 weakness of the force which had been left to guard 
 it. The German guns from the heights north of 
 the river began shelling Bourg as soon as we had 
 taken it, but for the most part they were busy pro- 
 tecting the broken bridge at Pont-Arcy and the pon- 
 toons at Chavonne, both to our left. At these points 
 the 2nd Infantry Division met stubborn resistance, 
 but eventually won their way across the river. 
 
 Showers came and went. The roads were deep 
 with mud. I crossed after the guns. The main 
 bridge over the river being impassable, my only 
 alternative was the aqueduct bridge. The half tow- 
 path, half lane beyond was not meant for car traffic. 
 The artillery had ploughed through, however, so 
 on I went. Axle-deep in thick mud, slipping, slid- 
 ing, skidding slowly forward, I at last came to the 
 point where the guns had made a path up the steep 
 bank to the main roadway beyond. No choice re- 
 mained but to charge it at such speed as one could 
 muster. Near the top the whirring wheels refused 
 to bite, and back the car slid towards the river. At 
 the edge of the bank the driving wheels luckily en- 
 countered some obstacle that gave them a grip, and 
 the straining, striving car slowly crawled upwards, 
 eventually to force its way, back wheels revolving 
 at full speed in the ooze, up to and over the crest 
 of the bank and on to safety beyond. 
 
 The 2nd Cavalry Brigade advanced north to- 
 wards the town of Vendresse, three to four miles 
 
146 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 distant. The ist Infantry Division tramped along 
 in their wake. 
 
 Towards noon I encountered an orderly who said 
 General de Lisle wanted me to come up front and 
 bring the luncheon basket, to carry which had now 
 become a daily duty. As I passed detachments of 
 cavalry on the Vendresse road I asked if the Gen- 
 eral had gone on in the direction I was pursuing, 
 and invariably was answered in the affirmative. 
 
 As the road became free of lines of Tommies and 
 ammunition waggons I quickened my pace. At the 
 side of the road the 4th Dragoon Guards stood, dis- 
 mounted. Someone at the head of the column 
 waved as I sped by, and gave a friendly shout. I 
 waved in return, slowing to pass a squadron of that 
 regiment proceeding in column of twos towards 
 Vendresse. I had lowered the hood, encouraged 
 by a glimpse of the sun, but as I reached a sharp 
 bend in the road not far from the town a sudden 
 shower pattered down, the big drops promising a 
 quick drenching. Mindful of the lunch in the ton- 
 neau I stopped the car and jumped out to raise the 
 hood. Before I had done so the squadron overtook 
 me and passed on the trot. First I was tempted to 
 hasten and precede them, but a refractory nut de- 
 layed me, so I let them pass, tailing an affable ser- 
 geant at the rear, who threw me a cheery word as 
 he jogged by. 
 
 A moment later a sharp rattle of fire directly in 
 front, and the whirr of bullets all about, made me 
 pull up in record time, throw in the reverse, and 
 back frantically for the shelter of the bank around 
 the turn. The scattering shots became an angry 
 roar, and a storm of whistling missiles sped over- 
 
WINE FROM A MOUNTAIN CAVE 147 
 
 head. The horsemen left the road at the first vol- 
 ley, and disappeared into the scrub on the left, some 
 of their number falling before they could escape 
 from the path of the fusilade. A bullet tore through 
 the canvas of the hood and gave one of the sticks 
 a nasty smack, but in less time than it takes to tell 
 it I was out of harm's way behind the shoulder of 
 the hill. Backing to the 4th D. G.'s, Colonel Mul- 
 lins greeted me with a sarcastic question as to 
 whether I was trying to get killed. " Playing at 
 advance guard with a car," he termed it. What I 
 had taken as a friendly wave in passing had been an 
 effort on his part to stop me, as General de Lisle 
 had left the road at that point, and climbed a hill 
 to the left. The fire grew hot again in front, and 
 stray pellets spattered round, so I turned the car 
 in the narrow road and ran further to the rear. Our 
 batteries began the game of dislodging the enemy 
 from Vendresse and the slopes beyond. 
 
 An officer from G.H.Q. drove up and chatted for 
 a time. We were not the only part of the Army 
 across the Aisne, he said. The passage of the river 
 had been won by the 3rd Corps to our left and by 
 the 2nd Corps beyond them. All along the seven- 
 teen miles allotted to the British front the north 
 bank of the stream was ours save at points of ex- 
 ceptional strength, such as Conde, which was, it 
 proved later, to remain in German hands for many 
 a long month. He told me the sum total of official 
 casualties to that date. Out of 15,800 the number 
 of killed, wounded, and missing, 12,500 were miss- 
 ing, most of the latter being killed or wounded of 
 course. This intimated a sad jumble of reports due 
 to the confusion of the retreat. 
 
148 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 By two o'clock I found the Chief and his Staff, 
 who welcomed the luncheon-basket. Before our re- 
 past was over the German shells were searching 
 thereabouts, two disquieting visitors coming close 
 over us. Orders came to move back. As I had 
 headed the car forward I was told to turn again 
 and make for a safer position. As I backed to do 
 so two more shells fell in the road not far distant. 
 My consequent effort to rush matters resulted in 
 my back wheels becoming embedded to the hubs in 
 soft earth at the roadside. Whizzy-bang went two 
 more big ugly fellows just beyond. No one was 
 in sight along the way. What to do I did not know. 
 Reckless efforts to jerk the poor car out by its own 
 power drove the rear wheels deeper in their soft 
 bed. 
 
 Bang — bang — bang — bang ! 
 
 Four shrapnel burst over the trees across from 
 me and rattled and crashed through the branches 
 with a terrifying din. I was at a loss for a solution 
 of my difficulty, and became apprehensive of results. 
 
 Down the road from the rear came a two-seated 
 car. The driver pulled up, took in the situation at 
 a glance, dismounted, and producing a stout rope, 
 tied it to my car, and coolly towed it on to the road- 
 way. No sooner had he done so than a very rain of 
 shells fell over the road fifty yards ahead. 
 
 Thanking him and admiring his coolness, I ex- 
 plained that the headquarters of which he was in 
 search was further to the rear, and we pulled out 
 without delay to a safer locality. I never learned 
 the name of my benfactor. His pluck saved me. 
 The next day I examined the spot and found two 
 good-sized shell-holes had been made in the road 
 
WINE FROM A MOUNTAIN CAVE 149 
 
 not ten yards from where I had been so ignomin- 
 iously stuck. 
 
 The Brigade went to the high ground between the 
 Bourg-Vendresse road and Verneuil. A battery 
 was shelling the Germans from that position, and 
 soon the German guns replied. The 9th Lancers 
 suffered on the ridge, losing Captain Lucas Tooth, 
 a splendid cavalry officer. Before dark we were 
 relieved by the Rifle Brigade, and our troops went 
 into billets at Oeuilly. A chateau there had been 
 left in a filthy state by the Germans, but piles of 
 clean straw in the ransacked drawing-room made a 
 comfortable resting-place. 
 
 On Monday, September 14th, I was called at a 
 quarter-past two in the morning, and asked to be 
 ready to start at 3.30. We were still inclined to 
 wonder by what good fortune we had been allowed 
 to force a way across the Aisne at Bourg, the day 
 previously, with such great success and so few cas- 
 ualties. 
 
 Our passage of the Aisne and our pressing for- 
 ward to Vendresse and up to the Chemin des Dames, 
 a great east-and-west highway beyond, was os im- 
 portant a move, and bore such prospect of result, 
 that it was but natural we should be in ardent ex- 
 pectation of a sight of the Rhine within the near 
 future. 
 
 The winning of Bourg, and the consequent fol- 
 lowing up by Haig's 1st Division of the advantage 
 thus gained, gave Sir John French an opportunity 
 to quickly develop the situation by a general push 
 along our whole front on that Monday morning. 
 We learned that Maunoury, with his French Sixth 
 Army, had crossed the Aisne between Compiegne 
 
ISO FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 and Soissons. We knew the French were across the 
 Aisne on our right and we were expected to advance 
 to a new line from Laon, due north from Bourg, to 
 Fresnes, which lies practically due north from Sois- 
 sons. The 2nd Cavalry Brigade was ordered to 
 move off at once via Troyon and Courtecon. Our 
 route from Oeuilly led to Bourg, then north. Be- 
 tween Bourg and the Chemin des Dames the road 
 lay through beautiful country. Well-wooded heights 
 rose on the left, and the way ran along a deep val- 
 ley until reaching Vendresse, then wound upward 
 past the little village of Troyon. Just before it 
 reached the Chemin des Dames the road passed a 
 large sugar mill. The town of Courtecon, our ob- 
 jective for that day, lay beyond. Courtecon was at 
 that time, and has always been since, in German 
 hands. 
 
 We started full of hope of pressing on to further 
 success, the battle of the Marne fresh in our minds. 
 
 In the dark and the rain, without any lights, the 
 road full of cavalry regiments and attendant bat- 
 teries of artillery, progress was slow. Ahead of 
 the Brigade, I found a detachment of infantry, 
 which challenged in the dark in so truculent a man- 
 ner that I decided to wait and allow some of our 
 own command to precede me. I brought the car to 
 rest at a point where the road from Bourg forked, 
 one branch leading to Vendresse, the other to Mou- 
 lins. As I waited in the rain a single shot rang out 
 on the ridge, the dark woods of which towered 
 above. The Brigade advance guard came up, de 
 Lisle and his staff close behind. The General di- 
 rected me to follow after him, preceding the ad- 
 vance squadron of the 9th Lancers, which was un- 
 
WINE FROM A MOUNTAIN CAVE 151 
 
 der command of Captain " Rivy " Grenfell. Pass- 
 ing through the dark gorge before the road curved 
 round to the right and left as it entered the first 
 scattered houses of the village of Vendresse, I lost 
 touch with the advance party and the General. Slow- 
 ing down, I had a chat with Captain Grenfell. I 
 told him that my orders were to push on, but that 
 I thought it would be wiser for me to keep out of 
 the way of his advance squadron and follow behind 
 it. I was not sure of the road, had lost the advance 
 guard, and manoeuvring the car without lights, with 
 no one preceding me in the roadway, might cause 
 some delay and confusion. Genfell agreed that I 
 should be less in the way if I would follow his 
 squadron. This decision undoubtedly saved my life. 
 
 We toiled along in the dark, when suddenly from 
 the front came the rattle of machine-gun fire and a 
 storm of bullets. The road was sufficiently wide for 
 me to turn the car. I sped away towards the other 
 squadrons of the 9th Lancers, which were coming 
 up. The leading squadron, behind which I had been 
 crawling, scattered off the road when the machine 
 guns in front opened fire. The first volley shot 
 Captain " Rivy " Grenfell dead, a bullet striking 
 him in the forehead as he was riding up the road. 
 
 The Germans were bent on holding the crest of 
 the hill. General Bulfin's 2nd Brigade, the Sussex, 
 the Northamptons, and 60th Rifles, were on our 
 left front. The 4th Guards Brigade were further 
 to the left, but what troops, if any, were on our 
 right I could not discover. The machine-gun and rifle 
 fire grew increasingly heavy in front. The enemy 
 were in greater strength than we had anticipated. 
 For a time I sat in the valley with but little informa- 
 
152 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 tion. Stories were told me of Captain Grenfell's 
 squadron, one being that the Germans had allowed 
 our advance guard to pass through their lines be- 
 fore opening fire. Later we learned that the ad- 
 vance guard had left the road, and Grenfall's squad- 
 ron was acting as the point. 
 
 A motor cyclist was sent up to get information 
 of the situation on the crest. On his return he re- 
 ported that our Brigade was well under cover, and 
 we were holding our position but not advancing. 
 Later an orderly from the front, with a moment to 
 spare, told me our troops were no further forward 
 than the point we had reached the day before. A 
 captain who had a scouting party along the crest 
 during the night joined our conversation. He said 
 he saw no Germans above Vendresse, evidence that 
 some of the enemy had advanced at dawn. Some 
 Scots Guards came down the hill wounded, and re- 
 ported that the fire from the enemy in the vicinity 
 of the sugar-mill was very heavy. 
 
 It was a rainy, dreary morning. By seven o'clock 
 a number of wounded had come to the dressing 
 station at the foot of the hill. Our batteries had 
 begun firing, but so far no enemy shells had dis- 
 turbed us. Another of our batteries dashed up to- 
 wards Vendresse, a most inspiring sight. Major 
 Beale Brown, of the 9th Lancers, told me more of 
 Captain Grenfell's death. His squadron had pro- 
 ceeded under the impression that they were fol- 
 lowing the advance guard, and bumped right into 
 the German picket. Captain Grenfell was the fif- 
 teenth officer of the 9th Lancers killed during the 
 campaign. The 18th Hussars and a battery went 
 by. Our field-guns opened with increasing frequency 
 
WINE FROM A MOUNTAIN CAVE 153 
 
 in positions to the right and left. The Welsh Regi- 
 ment and the Gloucesters passed, the former fol- 
 lowed by its handsome white goat. Stout chaps the 
 infantry men, bearded like a bard, except for sundry 
 hairless youths. Their firm step in the muddy road 
 as they swung along at a good four miles an hour 
 was evidence of their fitness and the spirit that was 
 in them. Their faces showed great contrast, and I 
 was struck by the youthful ones among them. In the 
 dull, lowering, apprehensive weather, swinging for- 
 ward grimly in the drizzle to face the German ma- 
 chine-guns on the crest, one could well be proud to 
 be fighting under the same flag. A short mile away 
 many of them were to meet their death. They were 
 not going towards it carelessly, or thoughtlessly, but 
 were pressing forward with the eagerness of splen- 
 did fighting stock, when the battle is within sight and 
 hearing. A heavier roll of rifle fire, or an increase 
 in the staccato of the rapid fire guns, seemed a signal 
 for a quickening of their step. I never saw finer 
 soldiers. 
 
 'General de Lisle took me down to the headquar- 
 ters of the 1st Division at the cross-roads outside 
 Vendresse, where we learned that the infantry had 
 definitely captured the ridge, and on the right were 
 through Paissy, which was taken the day before, 
 and had got well beyond it. The numbers of 
 wounded increased every minute. Batteries con- 
 tinued to be sent up the hill and off to the right. 
 The German shells came closer to us. Three shells 
 fell on the roadway not far ahead of a dozen cou- 
 ples of stretcher-bearers, who had started for the 
 front. They trudged on stolidly. Our guns behind 
 us, right and left, were hammering away so perti- 
 
154 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 naciously that it was likely we would soon come in 
 for a severe return fire. A heavy infantry engage- 
 ment commenced in front of Paissy. The shots 
 echoed down the glen in an increasing din. The 
 General returned to the 2nd Cavalry Brigade head- 
 quarters. We passed the North Lancashires on 
 their way to the firing line. 
 
 De Lisle' s formula when starting on our little ex- 
 peditions by car was, " I would like to go on now, 
 President, if you do not mind going under fire 
 again." " President " was my nickname, bestowed 
 to mark my nationality. De Lisle was always 
 cheerful. He had an increasing amount of enjoy- 
 ment that morning watching my nervous jumps when 
 the " Black Maria " shells exploded in our vicinity. 
 The big howitzer shells caused me an unusual 
 amount of nervousness. Just before ten o'clock a 
 couple of messages were passed by word of mouth 
 down the troops along the roadway. The first one, 
 thrown from detachment to detachment, was, " Pass 
 the word back that no notice is to be taken of the 
 white flag." Sinister message that, telling its own 
 story. Someone had trusted the white flag as a 
 signal of surrender, to his cost. 
 
 The next few days were replete with such in- 
 stances, but the first of such stories that came to 
 our ears made the greatest impression. 
 
 The next message said, " Pass the word that Ger- 
 man prisoners are going by. " Fast on its heels, as 
 we looked up the road in anticipation, came another 
 message, " Pass the word back that no rude re- 
 marks are to be made as they go by." How many 
 budding gems of scorn were nipped by that last or- 
 der. 
 
WINE FROM A MOUNTAIN CAVE 155 
 
 Prisoners drifted past, half a hundred of them, 
 dejected in appearance, but sturdy and well-fed. 
 They looked little like members of an army that 
 had been pressed so hard in retreat as had Von 
 Kluck's. At ten o'clock we ran up a cross-road, a 
 mere lane, to Moulins, and climbed the steep hill 
 to Paissy, a mountain village. Its cave dwellings 
 and its one roadway nestling in the shelter of the 
 high cliffside were full of picturesque Algerians and 
 Zouaves. Leaving the car we walked up to the 
 top of the cliff, and were afforded a wonderful view. 
 English cavalry of another Brigade galloped by on 
 the skyline. We could see but few troops, but the 
 General explained that in front of us some of the 1st 
 Corps infantry were getting into touch with our 2d 
 Cavalry Brigade. As we stood at the top of the 
 ridge it was most inspiring to feel that one of the 
 greatest battles of the world's history was in prog- 
 ress in front of us. No one was at so good a point 
 of vantage as we were to witness it. Yet we could 
 see but little of it. If our First Army and d'Espe- 
 rey's French troops on our right could succeed in 
 forcing a way through the German line, and drive 
 a wedge separating the seven Corps in front of us, 
 a great victory might result. French motor-cars 
 filled with eager officers had been pushing about all 
 morning in search of our Divisional generals. 
 Events seemed to be marching rapidly towards the 
 consummation of our desires. 
 
 Once let us break through and pivot the line on 
 our left, swinging our right up the road to Laon, 
 great things might be expected. Our anticipation 
 of success in this huge battle for position between 
 armies of somewhat equal numbers, and our enjoy- 
 
156 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 ment of the magnificent view of the high hills and 
 deep valleys, were interrupted by the continual 
 searching in our vicinity of the German high-explo- 
 sive shells. Their increasing frequency made me 
 wish to cut short our visit to Paissy, in spite of the 
 vantage afforded, for the longer we stayed the 
 closer they came. Running down the hill and to 
 Moulins, I turned up a cross-road, when the engine 
 of the car began to miss fire, and finally stopped. 
 Of all the positions in which I had been during the 
 morning, that was the most awkward in which to 
 repair a balky car. A battery was stationed forty- 
 yards distant in a field. It was firing steadily, and 
 the German guns were returning the compliment 
 with equal persistency. 
 
 I detached the pipe leading to the carburettor, 
 and blew out the petrol line with the aid of the tyre 
 pump. To hurry the operation was impossible. A 
 couple of shells dropped in the field at my side, and 
 made me bungle the work. The banging of our 
 guns, the smash of the German high-explosive shells 
 near-by, the rattle of the rapid-firers and the roll 
 of the rifles all round us as the great fight drifted to 
 the left, made the air seem charged with electricity. 
 I steadied myself, made a careful examination of 
 the petrol line, and at last got it cleared. The Gen- 
 eral had walked on. I lost no time in leaving that 
 unpleasant position. Passing over the same road a 
 few days later, I marvelled to se the holes on either 
 side and on the edge of it, where hundreds of Ger- 
 man shells had fallen that morning. 
 
 We returned to our wayside headquarters and 
 made a good lunch of bully beef and bread and 
 butter. General Bulfin's 2nd Brigade had been 
 
WINE FROM A MOUNTAIN CAVE 157 
 
 held up at the sugar mill, and the North Lan- 
 cashires had been sent up through Vendresse in sup- 
 port. The 4th Guards Brigade, advancing in front 
 of Chavonne and Soupir, with Ostel as their objec- 
 tive, had experienced wicked fighting, but reached 
 the Ostel ridge. The struggle for the sugar factory 
 and the Chemin des Dames position was still pro- 
 ceeding. Our troops that had passed Paissy had 
 not yet reached the Chemin des Dames on their side. 
 The Moroccan troops, on the right of the British 
 line, had not brought their line far forward. 
 
 We received a report that the French had taken 
 Craonne, further to the right. We were destined 
 to receive numerous reports to that effect within 
 the next few days. 
 
 That lunch was the first meal I had eaten to the 
 sound of heavy artillery fire in close proximity. I 
 have breakfasted in a boiler factory, and dined to 
 the accompaniment of an equatorial thunderstorm. 
 That luncheon had elements of both. I went with 
 General de Lisle to Major-General Lomax's head- 
 quarters and heard our batteries sent up the hill to 
 assist the attack on our left front. I was sent to 
 move back our transport, as the 2nd Cavalry Bri- 
 gade had been ordered to the left. The counter-at- 
 tack of the Germans to the west of the 4th Guards 
 Brigade had threatened to drive back the 3rd Divi- 
 sion, who were in front of Vailly. A staff officer 
 told me that the 3rd Division had been unable to 
 reach Aizy, and that the enemy counter-attack in 
 that quarter might turn our left flank. 
 
 After I had delivered my message to our trans- 
 port I waited at a fork in the road, watching 300 
 German prisoners, including four officers. Nearly 
 
158 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 double this number of prisoners were taken that 
 morning. The 300 gathered at that point had been 
 captured in the trenches above Troyon by the Sus- 
 sex Battalion, in a direct charge, in which Lieuten- 
 ant-Colonel Montresor, of that regiment, was killed. 
 By noon the German counter-attack in front of 
 Chivy, north of Verneuil, developed strongly. Half 
 an hour later, the fight still drifting westward, the 
 2nd Cavalry Brigade left the road to mount the 
 hill toward Verneuil, winding up the steep ascent 
 in column of twos. Squadron after squadron and 
 regiment after regiment disappeared in the under- 
 growth at the top of the rise. A lame horse left 
 behind refused to be abandoned, and hobbled along 
 in the rear of his regiment in pathetic testimony to 
 his willingness to go with the others, no matter 
 where they were bound. The rain ceased and the 
 sky cleared, a fresh wind springing up to dry the 
 muddy road. I walked up the slope, and, gaining 
 a good point of observation, lay and watched the 
 artillery duel on the far hillside. Clouds of black 
 smoke and white bursts of shrapnel against the vary- 
 ing green of the thick foliage made a fascinating 
 picture. A dispatch rider showed me a message 
 from General de Lisle to General Lomax stating 
 that I Battery was in action one mile northwest of 
 Bourg, that the shelled Germans were running from 
 their trenches, and that our 1st Division troops 
 could be seen advancing. Red Cross attendants, 
 doctors and ammunition supply passed frequently. 
 At 3.45 I ran to General Lomax's headquarters 
 to enquire which road I should take to rejoin Gen- 
 eral de Lisle. I was told to go to Verneuil, and 
 there ask for information. Returning to Bourg, 
 
WINE FROM A MOUNTAIN CAVE 159 
 
 which I found full of 1st Division wounded, I passed 
 on to Verneuil, the streets of which were littered 
 with dead horses and men. I counted thirty-five 
 dead horses from where I stopped. I was told 
 General de Lisle was further to the right, but the 
 shell-fire was so continuous over the road that I re- 
 turned to a point near Bourg. High explosive' shells 
 fell before me, behind me, and on both sides of me, 
 as I made the return journey. At times I ran 
 through clouds of black smoke from the big howit- 
 zer shells. In front of Bourg a battery of our 60- 
 pounders was in action, and I stopped by them some 
 little time. Fifteen empty ambulances passed en 
 route for Verneuil, and shortly afterwards another 
 dozen followed. One of the hospital men told me 
 three hundred of our wounded were in the town. 
 
 A German aeroplane hovered over a battery of 
 our guns to the left of Verneuil for a moment. Im- 
 mediately afterwards a very tornado of the 
 enemy's shells were hurled at the battery. We ex- 
 pected to see it put out of action, but, to our sur- 
 prise, it continued firing. 
 
 Seeing the cavalry moving west across country, 
 I drove to Soupir, and from there to Chavonne. 
 On reaching Chavonne I found that the General 
 had gone up theh steep road to the heights north 
 of the town, where the Coldstreams and the Guards 
 had entrenched themselves on the crest. Shells were 
 dropping with monotonous regularity between Cha- 
 vonne and Soupir. 
 
 At lunch we had discussed the desirability of an- 
 nexing something in the nature of drinkables. 
 Lieutenant Rex Benson, of the 9th Lancers, told 
 me that in the quaint hill town of Pargnan, not far 
 
160 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 from Oeuilly, I would find a woman at a tiny hotel, 
 from whom I might obtain a bottle or two of wine. 
 I left word that I would return before dark, and 
 drove hurriedly to Oeuilly and up the winding as- 
 cent to Pargnan. The proprietress of the hotel 
 was most hospitalble. She could let me have two 
 bottles of wine at one franc each, she said. The pro- 
 duction of a twenty-franc note and a request for a 
 good supply led to a journey with Madame, an 
 old retainer, an emaciated youth and a pair of in- 
 fants. Down the cellar stairs we went, moved a 
 pile of large empty casks from a further corner, 
 then down a black hole, stooping low and stumbling 
 against each other in the darkness. At the end of 
 the passage a candle showed we were in a good sized 
 cave in the hillside, with low ceiling of damp rock 
 and floor of soft sand. A walk into the further 
 blackness, and the boy was told to dig. The woman 
 had buried her wine to keep it away from the Ger- 
 mans. Dig the lad did most valiantly for some 
 time, but in vain. One of the toddlers was de- 
 spatched for a larger shovel. After its arrival, by 
 dint of our combined exertions, we exhumed four 
 bottles of champagne and fourteen of a very passa- 
 ble red wine, which had been buried four feet below 
 the surface. My offer of twenty-five francs for the 
 lot was eagerly accepted. 
 
 I arrived at Soupir after dark, finding our head- 
 quarters in a small tumbledown barn at the cornef 
 of the grounds of a chateau which had belonged to 
 Calmette, the editor of the Figaro, not long before 
 shot by Madame Caillaux. General de Lisle ran to 
 the chateau, where we found General Briggs' head- 
 quarters. After a consultation, we returned to our 
 
WINE FROM A MOUNTAIN CAVE 161 
 
 humble quarters and turned in for the night. I was 
 so tired I went to sleep in the car. The firing in 
 front of us began vigorously in the early part of 
 the night. Another message to Briggs became nec- 
 essary. Captain Barrett wakened me, and asked me 
 to run to General Briggs' headquarters. There was 
 a strict order against any car lights. The road was 
 in a frightfully slippery condition and deeply ditched 
 on either side. So it seemed better policy to walk. 
 As I had been the only one to accompany the Gen- 
 eral on his previous visit, Barrett asked me to act 
 as guide. Cavalry and artillery filled the beautiful 
 parks. The dull light of the camp fires showed 
 picturesque groups here and there under the trees. 
 We were challenged several times. More than once 
 the challenge was accompanied by the ominous click 
 of a bolt, always disconcerting when the challeng- 
 ing sentry is so close to the line. One never knows 
 just how jumpy sentries may be under the stress of 
 circumstances. 
 
 We found General Briggs seated on the steps of 
 the chateau. He explained the situation carefully. 
 The left of the cavalry was to rest on the river, its 
 right to be in touch with the left of the Guards. We 
 returned to our own headquarters by eleven o'clock 
 to find that the mess wagon had come up. A slice 
 of ham and a piece of bread made a good dinner, 
 and I immediately afterwards " turned in " on a 
 blanket spread beside the car. Firing became in- 
 cessant towards midnight, but I slept soundly until a 
 sharp rainstorm drove me under shelter. I tried 
 the floor of the barn. The General was sleeping 
 in the manger. The staff were spread about here 
 and there on the earthen floor. I chose several po- 
 
1 62 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 sitions in turn, all of them being impossible from the 
 standpoint of comfort. Hummocks and hollows of 
 exasperating shapes seemed to protrude themselves 
 upon me wherever I might lie. Withal, I spent one 
 of the most uncomfortable nights of the campaign. 
 
 So the day ended, with our hopes of piercing the 
 German line shattered, and with the dawning real- 
 isation that we were facing a splendidly prepared 
 and dangerously strong position. It began to filter 
 into our minds that the German retreat was over 
 and that we had best prepare ourselves for fierce 
 counter-attacks to hold the lines we had gained. We 
 were well across the Aisne. We heard that Mau- 
 noury at Vic had done well and was not unsuccess- 
 ful at Soissons. Our 3rd Corps were reported to 
 have a strong position in the direction of Chivres 
 and Vrigny. The 3rd Division was still in Vailly. 
 Our Chavonne-Soupir line leading away north of 
 Verneuil and on to Troyon, thence to a point north 
 of Paissy had been maintained, if not advanced 
 materially. Good news came from the French in 
 front of Craonne, and again we heard they had 
 taken that town, although subsequent reports in- 
 variably came after news of Craonne's capture to 
 tell us that the Germans still held it. 
 
 Promise of a hard fight to maintain our positions 
 was sure on the morrow. Sleep was of inestimable 
 value, so we slept as best we could. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 CAVALRY IN THE TRENCHES 
 
 Typed reports from G.H.Q. began to bear univer- 
 sal interest about this time. One that reached us 
 during our first days on the Aisne collected evidences 
 of German discomfiture, due to the pressure we had 
 given their hurried retreat. Enemy shells were 
 thrown into the Vesle at Braisnes. We captured 
 German cavalry orders crying for aid to their in- 
 fantry, admitting that their horses were worn out 
 and the roads so congested they could not get their 
 transport away. Some half-starved Huns were 
 taken prisoners, and others found who were nearly 
 dead of fatigue and exhaustion. Diaries from the 
 bodies of enemy dead testified to the horror of our 
 continual shrapnel fire. A bomb that one of our 
 airmen dropped on a party of Uhlans killed fifteen 
 of their number. 
 
 We called these reports the " Cheer-up Journal." 
 The Chavonne-Soupir ridge was definitely ours 
 by dawn on Tuesday, the 15th. Earliest light was 
 the signal for the enemy to commence shelling our 
 hard-won positions. A blue-grey smoke pall hung 
 over the woods on the crest in front of us all the 
 morning. The air was rent with the sound of con- 
 tinuous battle, in which all arms, from rifles to big 
 howitzers, played their part.^ 
 
 No morning ablutions these days. We were an 
 unwashed, unshaven lot. 
 
 163 
 
1 64 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 German gun-fire meant business on the Aisne. 
 Shrapnel was, hurled at the hill-tops by scores. I 
 spent some time watching the shell-bursts twenty to 
 thirty at once. Salvoes of sixes and dozens burst 
 together in the tree-tops. Thick clouds of greenish- 
 yellow massed and drifted in the clear light. The 
 early sun, fighting through hazy clouds, painted the 
 floating smoke-balls a pale heliotrope. 
 
 The General took me to Soupir, and up the steep 
 mountain road toward the trenches. Our shells 
 screamed over our heads, and enemy shells as well, 
 the latter bursting in all directions, in front of us, 
 behind us, on every side. As the road changed to a 
 mere track, de Lisle left the car and proceeded on 
 foot. A wounded Tommy sauntering past volun- 
 teered the information that the wood near by was 
 full of dead Germans. In a cottage beside me was 
 a dressing-station — a sad sight. Worn-out men, 
 bandaged, were sitting about it, heads drooping/ 
 broken, weary, many in awful pain, yet not a word 
 of complaint. Coldstreams, Irish Guards, and Con- 
 naught Rangers were among the wounded. The 
 Irish Guards suffered heavily in taking the woods. 
 Four of their captains were killed, one wounded, and 
 a subaltern wounded as well. Lord Arthur Guern- 
 sey and Lord Arthur Hay were among their dead. 
 
 Someone had noted a couple of officers shot from 
 behind. One of the wounds was in the back of the 
 neck, the bullet ranging down the spine. A search 
 resulted in the discovery of German sharpshooters 
 hidden in the thick foliage of tree-tops in the rear. 
 
 One of our gallant officers stooped to give a 
 wounded Prussian officer a drink. The shattered 
 German looked up, recognised that the would-be 
 
CAVALRY IN THE TRENCHES 165 
 
 Samaritan was one of the hated enemy, and shot 
 him dead. 
 
 A group of Germans in the wood surrendered, 
 waving a couple of white flags in token of their sub- 
 mission. As our men ran out to take their arms, 
 another enemy detachment, coming suddenly upon 
 the scene, opened on friend and foe alike, and 
 mowed down scores. 
 
 Returning to our barn near the Calmette Chateau, 
 we were stunned by the shock of two big howitzer 
 shells, one fair on the roadway beyond us and the 
 other close beside it. Pushing on, we found one 
 of the two had killed nine battery horses and five 
 men, wounding fourteen of their comrades. One 
 horse had fallen across the road, and had to be 
 moved to allow our passage. 
 
 Before we left the vicinity of that chateau, Black 
 Marias and dead horses became so common as to 
 fail to excite remark. 
 
 After a run to General Allenby's headquarters, 
 we again climbed the Soupir ridge. The cottage 
 that had been a dressing station a couple of hours 
 before had been found to be too directly in the 
 line of fire, and the wounded had been moved to 
 some point below. As we went past, shells were 
 bursting close to us, several landing less than one 
 hundred yards distant. Down the road trickled a 
 procession of wounded, an unusual percentage of 
 them hit in the face and head. 
 
 A pathetic little sight came under my eye as a 
 quartette of shattered soldiers — two British Tom- 
 mies and two Germans — walking abreast and evi- 
 dently communicating with each other with diffi- 
 culty, came to a halt. They turned, each German 
 
1 66 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 extending a hand, and each Tommy grasping it. 
 After a moment's handclasp, they plodded their 
 bandaged way, one limping badly. Stretcher parties 
 were numerous. 
 
 A message to the headquarters of General 
 Monro, commanding the 2nd Division, took me 
 from Soupir to Moussy-sur-Aisne. Dozens of dead 
 horses lined the road and the town was full of them. 
 Moussy proved a veritable shambles. Blood had 
 been spatted everywhere. General Monro's head- 
 quarters were beside a haystack outside the town. 
 
 Before noon, while I was resting on the Chavonne 
 road, Major Hugh Dawnay and Westminster drove 
 up, asking for the Guards Brigade. As they left for 
 Soupir, four high-explosive devils lit a couple of 
 hundreds yards away with a crash. Then four more, 
 only little beyond us. Westminster and Dawnay 
 returned a few minutes later. 
 
 " Pretty hot in Chavonne, isn't it? " said one of 
 them. " Two shells lit in the trees just above our 
 heads as we started back." 
 
 The sky-line was white with shrapnel. Someone 
 joked about a recent G.H.Q. report that told of a 
 shortage of German ammunition. It seemed the 
 enemy must stop searching in our vicinity for bat- 
 teries or the General must move headquarters, 
 at least, if he wished to have any Staff left to him. 
 But close as the shells came not one of us was hit. 
 We even became in a measure accustomed to them 
 as the day wore on. I lay in a ditch and took snap- 
 shots of the bursting shells above me. 
 
 After lunch I strolled past the imposing gates of 
 the Calmette Chateau and through the beautiful 
 grounds. A fairy lake, covered with pond lilies and 
 
CAVALRY IN THE TRENCHES 167 
 
 lined with a rare rockery, was tucked away in a. 
 bower of trees. The clear, cool water provided a 
 refreshing bath. 
 
 At General Haig's headquarters in Bourg, later 
 in the day, Hugh Dawnay outlined the strategic sit- 
 uation to me most lucidly. He gave me a simple ex- 
 planation of Von Kluck's plans and the state of af- 
 fairs generally. I jotted it down and retailed it to 
 more than one interested listener during the next 
 week. No one would imagine how little the regimen- 
 tal officers, or Brigade commanders, for that matter, 
 knew of the broad plan of operations at that time. 
 The fact that the line of the French 5th Army on 
 our left stretched from Noyon to Soissons was news 
 to us. To the east the French held from our Brit- 
 ish right at Paissy to Rheims, thence to St. Mene- 
 hould, and on to Verdun and beyond. Dawnay 
 gave me my first definite news of Foch's great vic- 
 tory on the advance north, when the enemy left 
 9,000 dead on one battle-field. " The French," said 
 Dawnay, " ever thorough in all matters of scientific 
 detail, have made post-mortens on dead German 
 soldiers. The data thus obtained confirms the re- 
 port of the Intelligence Department that the in- 
 vaders are subsisting off the country," 
 
 Our night stop was Oeuilly, and for the second 
 time we werer sheltered in the ravished chateau. 
 
 Rain set in — the sort of rain that soaks into one's 
 system — and by the time we reached Oeuilly we were 
 thoroughly wet. 
 
 Wednesday bade fair to be one continual drizzle. 
 Our brigade was ordered into the trenches on the 
 Chavonne ridge. I ran the car to the very top. As 
 the road wound above the village the ascent became 
 
1 68 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 quite steep. The valley of the Aisne stretched away 
 in panorama below. Cave dwellings lined the way 
 at frequent intervals. The inevitable convoy of 
 stretchers met us as we mounted upward, many of 
 the wounded pale and drawn from hours of suf- 
 fering while waiting for daylight to permit their 
 being moved. The path was in no condition for 
 night traffic. At the top of the hill were our 
 trenches, and those of the enemy in plain view a few 
 hundred yards in front of us. 
 
 The 4th D. G.'s, 9th Lancers and 18th Hussars 
 spent the morning " taking over " from the Queen's 
 Bays, 5th D. G.'s and nth Hussars. As the men 
 came out of the trenches they looked tired and worn 
 but splendidly fit. 
 
 Brigade headquarters were located in a house on 
 the hill, a poor place, but affrding shelter. 
 
 Just afternoon we sat down to lunch. Hardly had 
 we done so when word came that the enemy was 
 advancing all along the line. At the same moment 
 news reached us that the German shells had ren- 
 dered Bourg uninhabitable, and Haig had found it 
 advisable to move his headquarters. 
 
 Increasing shrapnel fire in front made the echoes 
 resound. We were off through Chavonne and up 
 the road that led to the trenches. A Battalion of 
 Jocks had made a wall of good-sized stones which 
 barred the way. A few moments' work by a score 
 of them cleared a path. While we were waiting 
 shells burst near, and hot bits of shrapnel fell in 
 the car. On we climbed. As we passed a cottage 
 a shell hit it and tiles showered down in armfuls, 
 some of them rattling against the metal panels of 
 the car. Horse ambulances had found their way up 
 
CAVALRY IN THE TRENCHES 169 
 
 and down from the valley to the crest during the 
 morning, and had made the road so slippery that 
 de Lisle left the car in the shelter of a bank and 
 trudged on foot. The 2nd Life Guards came up 
 and occupied the shallow straw-filled reserve 
 trenches beside me. Our guns took a hand with in- 
 creasing fury. I began to like the sound of our 
 own shells on their flight overhead — a song I was to 
 learn one day to love. 
 
 An hour passed. The General came down from 
 the line and told me our batteries had smashed the 
 enemy attack in splendid style. 
 
 I took Hamilton-Grace to Haig to report. As we 
 left our headquarters a shell struck it, but only tore 
 off a bit of roof and hurt no one. Before we had 
 gone one hundred yards a big black chap smashed 
 a tree in the road in front of us. Soon after we 
 passed another one fell in almost the same place. 
 " Close work," said Grace with a laugh. 
 
 Beside the wall of the Calmette Chateau we sped, 
 mindful that we were traversing an unhealthy lo- 
 cality. The 1st Brigade were along the roadway, 
 the nth Hussars at the further end of the wall. A 
 German aeroplane was overhead. As he watched it 
 Grace saw it drop a glistening signal. I was com- 
 pelled to slow down, the road at that point being 
 full of cavalry horses and ammunition waggons. 
 The ditch was lined with resting troopers. Rumph ! 
 Umph! A Black Maria fell close on our left, its 
 sinister pall of smoke drifting almost on to us. " Get 
 on, old chap," said Grace. I " got." Down went 
 my foot on the accelerator pedal. The car leaped 
 forward. I narrowly missed a horse and swung 
 away at full speed. Crash! went a shell where we 
 
170 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 had been a second or two before. It seemed as if 
 fear lent the old car wings. Grace looked back and 
 remarked, " If I'm not mistaken that one hit some 
 of the fellows we came past a moment ago." 
 
 Not long after, having bumped over the pontoon 
 bridge at Bourg and back again, we returned over 
 the road past the chateau. 
 
 As we drew near, a wounded black mare, her side 
 covered with mud, galloped madly past. A scared 
 group of transport drivers were huddled behind a 
 stone cairn by the roadside. We came to a pile of 
 accoutrements, then a dead horse in the road. 
 Reaching the wall we found the ditch piled full of 
 dead horses and men. Two dismembered horses 
 lay in the way, other dead horses were piled in the 
 field, and stretcher bearers were picking up still 
 forms in khaki from under the trees. 
 
 Fifteen horses and a dozen men was the toll taken 
 by that shell. It burst just by the roadside two or 
 three seconds after we had sped past. 
 
 I was kept busy, up the hill and down again time 
 after time, till late in the evening. Cold bully beef 
 was the piece de resistance of our dinner that night, 
 a dish of which I think I could never tire. 
 
 For the next two days we " hung on " in the 
 trenches on the ridge. Most of the time we were 
 under shell-fire. The weather was damp and cold, 
 the rain making the trench-life miserable enough. 
 The cavalry had seen the last of open mounted fight- 
 ing. An officer of the 18th Hussars made an in- 
 teresting reconnoissance with a squad of men, crawl- 
 ing close to the German trenches. Captain Kirk- 
 wood, of the 4th D.G.'s, did a " stalk " on the fol- 
 lowing night, returning with useful information as to 
 
CAVALRY IN THE TRENCHES 171 
 
 the enemy's position. For the most part we could 
 see the German lines in the daytime quite clearly, 
 but the night adventures put us in close touch with 
 the parts of their line that lay out of our sight. 
 
 One or two incipient German attacks were re- 
 ported, causing headquarters to rush to the trench- 
 line, but nothing serious materialized. Once an offi- 
 cer sent word that the enemy were advancing in 
 force, and he could not hold his position unless re- 
 inforced. Upon the anticipated attack proving a 
 false alarm this officer was interviewed by the chief. 
 After this interview he heartily wished the Germans 
 had come. 
 
 A battery commander was ordered to move his 
 guns to another position and go into action at once. 
 On the arrival of the gun horses the battery was 
 heavily shelled. Back the horses were rushed under 
 cover. Again they were ordered up and again the 
 Germans commenced to shell them. After a wait of 
 twenty minutes the horses were brought up for the 
 third time, only to be shelled and driven back as 
 before. This puzzled the gunner commanding the 
 battery. Our troops held the ridge above him, and 
 no enemy position was in sight from the spot occu- 
 pied by the guns. A village lay on the hillside. Tak- 
 ing a couple of men he searched the houses, and in 
 a cottage far up the rise found a strapping chap in 
 peasant garb who proved to be a German guards- 
 man. In a stack beside the hovel the spy had con- 
 cealed himself for days, lying at the end of a tele- 
 phone wire which led over the hill, past or under 
 our front line and into the German trenches. The 
 gun horses had been brought up in front of his very 
 eyes. When he gave the word by telephone to his 
 
1 72 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 own guns they banged away until he told them the 
 target was withdrawn. 
 
 To execute the spy and shift the battery was but 
 a matter of moments. The guns were moved not a 
 second too soon, for before they were far away a 
 battery of German howitzers was turned on the field 
 they had left, and in a short time had torn the sur- 
 face with great rents into which one could put a gun- 
 team. 
 
 The Germans did not always have such fine tar- 
 gets for their gunners. One morning a sudden burst 
 of sun from behind a bank of cloud found a couple 
 of officers on the ridge just back of a line of trenches, 
 lying on the grass enjoying a respite from the usual 
 sodden weather and overcast skies. Together they 
 gazed on the panorama together. The Valley of 
 the Aisne was an entrancing sight. Here lay this 
 town and there that, some smashed by shells, some 
 practically unharmed. 
 
 As they looked down the wooded hillsides into the 
 lower land toward the river, one of them called out, 
 "Look! a helio'." 
 
 From under a hedge back of Moussy came the 
 flash, flash, flash, in regular intervals. A junior sig- 
 nals officers tried to read the message. Once, he 
 said, he caught a word, but for the most part it was 
 Greek to him. " Must be some fool sort of code," 
 he confessed. " I never saw anything like it be- 
 fore." 
 
 As they watched it, the Germans saw it, too. 
 Bang went a big black Jack Johnson not far from 
 the spot. Smash ! came another. Still the flashes 
 twinlfied from the surrounding green. 
 
 The first two shells were the forerunners of 
 
CAVALRY IN THE TRENCHES 173 
 
 dozens that crashed through the hedge and into the 
 turf all about the tiny centre of light. 
 
 Black shell-clouds showed all round that field and 
 the next. Soon the sun crept behind a cloud, as if 
 intent on protecting the object of the Huns' iron 
 wrath. 
 
 Next morning a brief ten minutes of sun caused 
 eyes on the ridge to wander valleywards again. 
 Sure enough, a couple of flashes, intermittent and ap- 
 parently quite without coherence, came from the spot 
 at the hedgeside. 
 
 Soon the enemy howitzers played on the vicinity, 
 fiercer than the day before. 
 
 After the sun had gone from sight, they kept up 
 their bombardment of the unfortunate spot for half 
 an hour. Dozen of shells fell thereabouts, then 
 scores on scores. 
 
 A signals officer on the crest, watching the play 
 murmured: "What idiots are our helio' lot are to 
 choose a spot in plain sight of those Germans on 
 the far ridge." 
 
 That afternoon a cavalry officer had a journey to 
 make which took him to General Monro's headquar- 
 ters near Moussy. His work done, he continued a 
 few hundred yards, and sought the spot that had 
 suffered the awful shelling. 
 
 It was not hard to find. The hedge was smashed 
 in places. A tall tree was knocked down near by. 
 Great black holes were torn in the green fields. On 
 one side of the hedge law a dead cow. No sign 
 could be seen of the helio' party. This was hardly 
 surprising, as for over half an hour shells had fallen 
 all about the flickering light until it seemed no man 
 could live thereabouts. 
 
174 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 The staff officer strolled over to a battery posi- 
 tion not far distant, and asked for news of the sig- 
 nalers. The gunners had wondered at the heavy 
 shelling not many hundred yards from their funk- 
 holes, but had seen no human beings near the hedge, 
 before or. after the bi-tter bombardment. 
 
 Nonplussed, the officer walked back to the dev- 
 astated area, and, just as he was leaving, discov- 
 ered the cause of all the trouble. 
 
 There, caught on a twig of the hedge, swinging 
 lazily in the wind, was a bright-bottomed empty sar- 
 dine tin, thrown carelessly aside by some satiated 
 luncher. 
 
 The sun, catching the bright bit of moving tin, 
 had made of it a tiny reflector. 
 
 Surely, never had so insignificant an object or one 
 so intrinsically worthless caused the Huns so great 
 an expenditure of costly ammunition. 
 
 A detachment of 18th Hussars were bringing 
 about 150 led horses from Bourg to Chavonne over 
 a road that was within telescopic range of the Huns. 
 
 Two or three Black Marias in the midst of the 
 column made a scatterment thereabouts, and for the 
 rest of the afternoon the new mounts were career- 
 ing all over the surrounding country. A few horses 
 and two men were killed, and many of the horses 
 slightly wounded. All but eight were recovered by 
 nightfall. 
 
 The same day the German look-outs must have 
 taken a herd of a couple of dozen cows for some of 
 our horses. A battery of howitzers opened on the 
 inoffensive cattle, driving them from one corner of 
 a large field to another. For quite half an hour the 
 enemy guns pounded away at the herd. It seemed 
 
CAVALRY IN THE TRENCHES 175 
 
 odd that any of the poor beasts were left alive, but 
 only five were killed — in spite of the tons of metal 
 embedded in their pasture by the Bosche gunners. 
 
 The effective strength of most of the commands 
 on the Ais^ie was low. That of the 2nd Cavalry 
 Brigade wa% but fifty per cent, of its full comple- 
 ment. The Brigade had, since leaving England, 
 lost twenty-five killed, 120 wounded, and 220 miss- - 
 ing — some 365 casualties all told-^— over one-third 
 of its original strength. 
 
 On the afternoon of Friday, the 18th, unable to 
 catch forty winks owing to the banging of a dozen 
 18-pounders just below our house, de Lisle gave me 
 permission to walk up to the trenches and watch the 
 shelling. A short cut through the woods was the 
 route advised. As I got well in among the trees the 
 enemy began to shell them. No troops were in the 
 wood, but every day the Germans seemed to deem 
 it necessary to visit a certain amount of iron wrath 
 upon it. 
 
 The crashing and splintering of the branches, and 
 the ripping of bits of shell through the thick foliage 
 overhead, were among the most thoroughly unpleas- 
 ant sounds I have ever heard. A feeling that I 
 might be wounded and lie helpless in the under- 
 growth, to die of starvation or thirst before being 
 discovered, entered my mind. A quartette of par- 
 ticularly vociferous shells burst above, a splinter 
 striking the good-sized tree trunk behind which I 
 was endeavouring to compress myself into as small 
 a space as possible. 
 
 That settled it. No route was too far round if it 
 obviated the necessity of traversing that dreadful 
 wood. I incontinently fled downhill, and after a 
 
176 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 long detour reached the crest by the main path up 
 the slope. A natural tunnel ran through the rock 
 at the summit. Twenty to thirty feet from its outer 
 end were our trenches. The Coldstreams were in 
 occupation, " well dug in," and quite happy. In 
 front, the ground sloped away for a thousand yards, 
 then dipped gently. A further slope was not so far 
 distant, but that I could see German reserves com- 
 ing over it toward the enemy trench-line that faced 
 us. 
 
 At the time I arrived, the German gunners were 
 shelling our trenches ioo to 300 yards to the right 
 of the tunnel's mouth. One or two landed, now and 
 again so close as seventy or eighty yards from me. 
 Most of the shells hit the ground a few hundred feet 
 short of our trenches. Many burst in the air at close 
 range. Not a few went over and exploded close 
 behind. The men in the part of the line in which 
 I sat were utterly careless of the bombardment of 
 the bit of trenches so close beside them. They had 
 an air of absolute detachment, as if it had nothing 
 to do with them. Comment and criticism followed 
 each new arrival. A few Tommies had mounted the 
 trench parapet, and sat coolly in the open as though 
 ticket holders and entitled to good front seats. 
 
 " What if those devils start on this bit of 
 trench?" I asked a captain, whose dug-out I was 
 sharing. " Oh, the men would get down quickly 
 enough if the shells start this way," was his reply. 
 
 The space between the lines had widened. At 
 least 1,300 yards separated the intrenched armies 
 on that immediate front. Now and then a German 
 walked across the skyline, 1,400 to 1,500 yards 
 away. Both sides were beginning to learn the value 
 
CAVALRY IN THE TRENCHES 177 
 
 of deep, well-made trenches, and the comparative 
 safety such shelter gave from shrapnel fire. Hun- 
 dreds of shells burst over the crest and left hardly 
 a single casualty to record. 
 
 That night I tried sleeping in the open; but, as 
 usual, a nocturnal rain-storm came up and drove me 
 to the shelter of the hood of the car. A bitterly 
 cold night it proved to be. A bad night for the 
 many gun crews that had to sleep on the ground 
 beside their batteries. The men in the trenches had 
 made nests of straw which were much warmer than 
 might have been expected, though the persistent 
 rain eventually soaked through such make-shift shel- 
 ters. One gun crew near me were drowned out of 
 their " funk-holes," and gathered round a some- 
 what discouraged fire till morning. At daybreak I 
 met troopers from the front trench-line who for 
 hours had been standing in a foot of water. 
 
 Saturday, the 19th, was a rest day in which our 
 brigade retired to billets at Longueval, south of the 
 Aisne, and thoroughly dried out. I ran to G.H.Q. 
 at Fere-en-Tardenoise, where Ted Howard, an 
 R.A.C. member driving the Provost Marshal, had 
 boasted a comfortable lodging. He was out and 
 his little billet empty, so I took possession and man- 
 aged a bath under the water tap in his kitchen sink. 
 A tedious process and fraught with some general 
 saturation of the entire culinary domain, but it 
 served. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 DIARY UNDER HOWITZER-FIRE 
 
 The Sunday was an eventful one for me. 
 
 General de Lisle was up at three o'clock and away 
 half an hour later. The Brigade was ordered to 
 Paissy. A couple of squadrons of the 1 8th Hussars 
 were to go into the trenches close to the firing line 
 while the remainder of the command was to act in 
 reserve. 
 
 I crossed the river on the pontoon bridge at Vil- 
 lers, the water almost covering the boards. 
 
 Paissy was built half in and half out of the rock 
 of the hill proper. Some houses were so constructed 
 that part of the rooms were mere caves in the cliff. 
 The farms all boasted a cave in the wall side, con- 
 venient for storage of such rude property as imple- 
 ments of toil and carts or the stabling of live-stock. 
 
 We arrived at five o'clock. The General left the 
 car and went on mounted. On the left the cliff ran 
 sheer to a point above the highest building in the 
 town. To the right of the roadway the ground 
 dropped away into a miniature crater, the bottom 
 of which was mapped with tiny squares of growing 
 crops of green pasture, low hedges marking their 
 boundaries. The cliff side ran round the valley in 
 the form of a horseshoe. At the far end a steep 
 wide path led to the summit. 
 
 The Germans were firing regularly, the shrapnel 
 178 
 
DIARY UNDER HOWITZER-FIRE 179 
 
 bursting a couple of hundred yards from us. A 
 Sussex supply column was busy harnessing its horses 
 in the farm yard I chose for shelter, so I backed the 
 car under the outside wall. The shrapnel began 
 singing over my head. I sat on the step of the car 
 and watched a robust French farmer try to drive 
 three huge white oxen into the gate. Swinging their 
 heads low as if feeling their way with their great 
 branching horns, their mild eyes opened wide in as- 
 tonishment at the noise of the bursting shells. 
 
 A Sussex Tommy begged a drop of petrol to fill 
 an automatic cigarette lighter. Around the corner 
 came a line of wounded Algerians, some supported 
 by comrades and one swarthy fellow carried by his 
 companions. They seemed to have suffered a bad 
 mauling. The dazed look of mute questioning, a 
 failure to understand, was on their faces. From red 
 fez to blue putties, their uniforms were a riot of 
 colour. Blue capes over light blue jackets trimmed 
 in yellow and red, once white trousers, unusually 
 baggy, with here and there a head dress of odd hue, 
 they presented a variegated but woe-begone appear- 
 ance. They might have been part of a pageant 
 which had started out gaily enough only to meet 
 catastrophe. Some of them were almost white. 
 Some were quite black. One was grinning. From 
 another a sharp cry of pain caused his bearers to let 
 him gently down for a moment in the roadway. 
 
 A loud explosion came so close at hand that it 
 ripped the air apart. The shock struck me like a 
 blow in the face. Bricks, stones, bits of debris, and 
 shrapnel fell in every direction. A rush of fumes 
 and smoke came through the gateway from a Ger- 
 man shell which had burst inside. The farmer shot 
 
180 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 through the air, falling on his back in the roadway 
 by me. After an effort to raise himself, he fell back 
 with a shudder, and lay twitching convulsively. A 
 couple of horses and two forms in khaki were piled 
 together against the cliff side. One of the big white 
 oxen lay a few feet away, his snowy side turning 
 crimson. Debris of all sorts rained down, the 
 heavier bits with a sharp staccato as they struck the 
 pave roadway. 
 
 The impulse to leave the spot where a shell has 
 fallen is overpowering. I gained the shelter of a 
 further wall, when a shell burst behind me in the 
 pathway that led from the crest. It lit among the 
 fleeing Algerians. Numbers of them were hurled 
 aside. Loud cries told of pain and terror. A great 
 black fellow came down the hill screaming shrilly, 
 dashed round the corner and speed away, lurching 
 and straining as he ran. Down the road came a 
 flash and a milky shrapnel cloud over the roadway. 
 A shell had toppled the Big Algerian over in full 
 flight. 
 
 Under a wooden gate, torn from its hinges, I 
 cuddled close under the wall of a house. Shell after 
 shell burst over the roadway. Huddled groups of 
 Algerians still came down the path. They had no 
 idea of how to seek cover. The wounded lay thick 
 on all sides. 
 
 A tiny man, his ebony face distorted into a ghastly 
 grin, struggled under an enormous comrade limp as 
 a sack of meal. Through that hell of shell-fire the lit- 
 tle Algerian made his way slowly, stepping gingerly 
 over the dead and skirting shell-holes with the great- 
 est care. At last he reached one of the hillside 
 caves, and deposited his load at the feet of one of 
 
DIARY UNDER HOWITZER-FIRE 181 
 
 our brigade doctors, who was busy dressing a most 
 heterogeneous collection of wounded. 
 
 No sooner had the little man got clear of the 
 roadway than a shell burst over it. Involuntarily 
 ducking at the force of the explosion, I felt a sharp 
 blow in the ribs. It literally " knocked the wind out 
 of me." At the moment I was afraid to feel my 
 side, apprehensive of a nasty wound. A glance 
 showed me a large brick had struck me, hurled as 
 though shied from a catapult. My ribs were sore 
 for days afterwards. 
 
 I fled a few yards further, keeping close to the 
 wall. I stopped by Captain Algy Court, of the 9th 
 Lancers. Court was standing beside his horse in 
 such shelter as the wall afforded, waiting orders to 
 move his squadron up the hill. We tried to talk 
 to each other, but bursting shells rendered conver- 
 sation impossible. A piece of shell struck Court's 
 charger in the chest. The blood spurted in a stream. 
 The captain led him inside the gateway. I followed. 
 As I came past, the poor animal fell backwards and 
 all but pinned me against the cliff side. 
 
 An English soldier and an Algerian were brought 
 into an adjacent cave. A couple of old peasants 
 looked on sympathetically while our doctor dressed 
 both wounds with equal care. The doctor asked me 
 to accompany him to a larger cave, where several of 
 our wounded were reported to be. 
 
 There we found forty or fifty cases, mostly Al- 
 gerians. Standing in the doorway of the cave, the 
 shell-fire seemed louder, but I was in comparative 
 safety. A passing officer advised me to get my car 
 away if it was still runnable. It was covered with 
 debris, but no beams or large pieces of wreckage 
 
1 82 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 had fallen on it. It was by that time but six o'clock, 
 though it seemed as if hours had passed. I crept 
 along the wall towards the car, when the noise of 
 a passing shell sent me back to the cave mouth. A 
 pale little French soldier, with spare black beard, 
 was brought in wounded — a splendid, plucky little 
 chap. 
 
 A high explosive terror burst in the road in front 
 of the gate of our adopted dressing station. Then 
 for twenty minutes the din of exploding shells was 
 without a break. Most of them burst just above 
 the roadway. Now one would light on the crest 
 above the cave mouth, and shower mud, stones, and 
 pieces of shell over us. 
 
 The yard was full of harnessed teams. The ef- 
 fect of the shell-fire on the horses was interesting. 
 Some were apathetic; others were nervous and 
 jumpy; most of them took it quietly. 
 
 A woman came from a house, leading a four-year- 
 old child. She was making for the safe retreat of 
 the cave. The little girl was wonderingly interested, 
 but not in the least afraid. She prattled incessant 
 questions to her mother as they hurried to shelter. 
 
 Well up the steep path that led to the crest, I 
 could see the wide, low mouth of a cave that faced 
 the direction from which the enemy's shells were 
 coming. A dozen Algerians with their horses were 
 gathered there. I watched them as they stood near 
 the opening. Then came a flash and a red smudge 
 right over the cave mouth. Black smoke poured 
 out in dense masses. A Black Maria had exploded 
 inside the cave. Not a man nor a horse of the group 
 escaped instant death. 
 
 An hour later a lull in the shelling induced me to 
 
DIARY UNDER HOWITZER-FIRE 183 
 
 walk forward and look at the car. It was intact, 
 though covered with still more masonry and debris. 
 A piece of shell hit the road in front of me, and 
 threw the mud in a conical little spurt, whereupon I 
 lost no time in regaining the mouth of the cave. 
 
 The General was in the firing line somewhere 
 ahead. 
 
 A battery of 18-pounders on the crest had been 
 " answering " at times during the morning, but had 
 been unable to." find" the enemy's howitzers. 
 
 At last came a full five minutes' lull in the firing. 
 Its effect on the artillery drivers and reserves stand- 
 ing near was electrical. The men walked across the 
 yard and into the road quite as unconcernedly as 
 though a truce had been declared. To judge from 
 their demeanour the danger was over. A German 
 aeroplane sailing high above slowly turned and cir- 
 cled over us. German aeroplanes spelt trouble. We 
 had not long to wait for it to materialise. 
 
 Just as I had planned to remove the car the shell- 
 fire began again, to last for another half hour. In 
 the lull which followed I dug the car from under the 
 debris which covered it and moved it to a point of 
 greater safety. Pieces of shrapnel had left their 
 mark on its sides and made a hole through one of 
 the mud guards. One of the panels was spattered 
 with blood. 
 
 In a house selected for our headquarters, I found 
 a kitchen fire, which was most welcome, as a chill 
 rain was falling. All forenoon the shelling con- 
 tinued at intervals, until my head rang with it. 
 
 The line in front of us was held by the newly 
 arrived 18th Brigade of the 6th Division. This 
 
1 84 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 Brigade, under General Congreve, consisted of the 
 i st West Yorks, ist East Yorks, 2nd Notts and 
 Derby and 2nd Durham Light Infantry. The ex- 
 treme right of the line was in the hands of the West 
 Yorks, a green regiment so far as German tricks 
 were concerned. 
 
 The Algerians had been driven from their posi- 
 tion on the far left of the French line. Three 
 trenches in echelon, facing north-east, we hoped they 
 would hold, for their retirement from those trenches 
 uncovered our right flank. As a precaution de Lisle 
 ordered Colonel Burnett, of the 18th Hussars, to 
 prepare and occupy a couple of trenches between the 
 right of the West Yorks and the left of the Alge- 
 rians to protect any possible gap. 
 
 Still the fire rained on Paissy. One shell in the 
 roadway killed a lieutenant and four men of the 
 1 8th. The roof of our headquarters house was 
 continually peppered with hot splinters. The Sus- 
 sex Battalion (ist Division), were in Paissy. I saw 
 a message from General Lomax to the Sussex, say- 
 ing that the 2nd Cavalry Brigade were to support 
 the right of the West Yorks during the day, and 
 rest in Paissy that night, to be on hand in case the 
 French on the east of us were compelled to fall back. 
 The Sussex were " resting." I had a good laugh 
 with their Commanding Officer at the idea of " rest- 
 ing " anywhere near Paissy that day. 
 
 The Commanding Officer of the West Yorks 
 called. He was very nervous about his right, but 
 de Lisle reassured him. Personally I thought there 
 was altogether too much talk of the precariousness 
 of the situation. Such a thing exists as unnecessary 
 apprehension. 
 
DIARY UNDER HOWITZER-FIRE 185 
 
 The General suggested a visit to Divisional head- 
 quarters after the West Yorks Colonel had de- 
 parted. As I lowered the hood a shell burst across 
 the road twenty feet distant, and dirt and stones 
 showered over me. I felt myself well over to be 
 sure I was not hit. A piece of another shell hit a 
 tree on the opposite side, and a shrapnel burst over 
 the yard behind. How delighted I was to clear out 
 of the place, if only for a short time ! At General 
 Allenby's headquarters, by a haystack above Tour 
 de Paissy, a heavy shower gave me a thorough 
 drenching. When the rain ceased we had a fine view 
 of the country round. The French trenches and 
 those of our troops could be seen with the naked 
 eye. 
 
 Standing at a safe distance, watching the enemy 
 shrapnel over our trenches or seeing clusters of four 
 or eight burst over Paissy, with a Black Maria in 
 frequent interlude, was a very different matter from 
 being under the bursting shells. 
 
 On the way back to our own headquarters we had 
 to wait outside Moulins until the enemy gunfire, 
 covering the road ahead of us, had died down. One 
 of the recently-arrived 60-pounder batteries, clev- 
 erly concealed, was thundering as we sped by its 
 hiding-place. 
 
 At headquarters I felt drowsy and tried to sleep, 
 but found it impossible. The German 8-inch how- 
 itzer shells were coming at regular intervals, their 
 explosions rattling the panes and jarring the very 
 foundations. The patter of debris on the roof, the 
 sharp slap of a bit of shell or a shrapnel bullet in 
 the yard, and the screams and moans of passing mis- 
 siles, put my nerves on edge. 
 
1 86 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 The General and Phipps-Hornby rode out to keep 
 an eye on the trench positions. The hammering, 
 hammering, hammering was growing painfully 
 monotonous. The hopelessness of escape from it 
 was galling. 
 
 Like a bolt from the blue came a West Yorks 
 officer with news that the Germans had once again 
 attacked the Zouaves on our right and pushed them 
 back, getting in on the West Yorks' right flank. 
 The Huns had taken some of the West Yorks' 
 trenches, and driven back the line. Two companies 
 of the Yorks Battalion had been captured. No 
 sooner had he told his tale than Phipps-Hornby gal- 
 loped up. General de Lisle, he said, was trying to 
 get a company of the Yorks together, and wished 
 all available troops sent up at once to reinforce him. 
 All was bustle. The 4th Dragoon Guards were off 
 instanter, the 9th Lancers hard on their heels, with 
 the Sussex not far behind. 
 
 A real breach in the line and Paissy lost meant 
 serious business. The muddy roads and the narrow 
 pontoon bridges over the Aisne would not allow a 
 thought of retirement. Nothing remained but to 
 regain the ground that had been lost. 
 
 I was ordered off post haste to 1st Division head- 
 quarters, and then to General Allenby to bear mes- 
 sages explaining what had transpired. Speeding 
 over the greasy road I soon reached General Lo- 
 max, and a few moments later was at 1st Cavalry 
 Division headquarters. The fight was in plain view. 
 The Germans were, coming over the brow of the 
 hill. A couple of hundred dismounted 4th Dra- 
 goon Guards, the first line of the counter-attack, 
 under Major Tom Bridges, could be seen climbing 
 
DIARY UNDER HOWITZER-FIRE 187 
 
 the stubble-covered hillside, dotted with still forms 
 in khaki, and crowned by the lost trench. 
 
 Batteries — French, British, and German — sent 
 round after round as fast as the men could serve 
 the guns. 
 
 Still up the stubble crept the thin line, Bridges' 
 tall form in the lead. The support, eager to have 
 a hand in the game, pressed on in haste, but could 
 not overtake the invincible Dragoon Guards, who 
 swept away the Germans in their vastly superior 
 numbers as if endowed with some superhuman 
 power. 
 
 They gave the Huns no rest. Pouring a deadly 
 and accurate fire into the blue-grey ranks as they 
 came on, Bridges and his 200 reached the front 
 trench at last under a very heavy canopy of whiz- 
 zing bullets. With a wild cheer, they leapt at the 
 Germans, and threw them back from the trenches. 
 The fierceness of the onslaught could no more be 
 withstood than one could stem a cyclone. 
 
 The lost position regained, the big major leaped 
 ahead, and again his men poured on after him. The 
 enemy was not only to lose what he had won, but 
 more. Before the 4th Dragoon Guards stopped, 
 they had taken the Chemin des Dames, three or four 
 hundred yards ahead of our original position. 
 There we stuck and held on against counter-attack 
 on counter-attack — our line to be kept without los- 
 ing an inch of it during assaults that for the next 
 few weeks were to leave pile on pile of German 
 dead as an earnest of their stubborn refusal to ad- 
 mit the ground for ever lost. 
 
 A splendid charge was that at Paissy. A triumph 
 of individual leadership and splendid quality in a 
 
1 88 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 handful of men. To watch it made the blood run 
 hot and fast. To have taken part in it was worth 
 a lifetime of mere ordinary existence. 
 
 Running back through Pargnan, the roads and 
 fields were full of the battered Algerians. Out of 
 6,000 of them only 2,000 were left after five days' 
 hard fighting. 
 
 I was under shell-fire a number of times during 
 the remainder of the day. At dusk the Staff was in 
 the road under the brow of the Paissy hill when 
 shells fell closer than usual. Captain Hamilton- 
 Grace suggested I should back the car further round 
 a turn, under shelter of the height of ground. I 
 was too tired to bother, but at his second sugges- 
 tion I backed for some fifty feet to please him. The 
 moment I brought the car to rest in its new position, 
 a shell lit on the spot from which I had moved it. 
 I voted Grace's foresight little short of uncanny. 
 
 To cap the climax, the French won back their 
 original positions on the right, and night closed with 
 the line in better position than dawn had found it. 
 
 We seemed firmly installed in our billets in 
 Longueval. The men were very comfortable in the 
 picturesque stone-built village nestling low between 
 the steep hill sides. The village folk were excep- 
 tionally friendly. A little bakery did the trade of 
 its lifetime. A dry, warm billet at night makes a 
 vast difference to the efficiency of a command, and 
 for a fortnight the 2nd Cavalry Brigade waxed fat 
 in Longueval, in spite of sundry days spent in the 
 ever-shelled Paissy. 
 
 On Monday, following the Sunday fight in front 
 of the Chemin des Dames, the Brigade was ordered 
 to rest and refit. The line was comparatively quiet, 
 
DIARY UNDER HOWITZER-FIRE 189 
 
 save for the inevitable intermittent shell-fire. The 
 weather was exasperating. A flash of real warm 
 sunshine at times gave hope of a change, but the 
 hope always vanished in cold, dispiriting rain. Gen- 
 eral de Lisle made a tour of divisional and corps 
 headquarters that put us in accurate touch with the 
 march of events. At Braisnes we found General 
 Gough, in command of the newly formed 2nd Cav- 
 alry Division, consisting of the 3rd and 5th Cavalry 
 Brigades. General Smith-Dorrien's headquarters 
 were in a great medieval chateau at Muret, a pic- 
 turesque spot. 
 
 The universal feeling was that the new form of 
 warfare, the trench fighting, might prove a tedious 
 business. In spite of the arrival from England of 
 half a dozen batteries of 60-pounders, the Germans 
 were able to fire thirty shells to our one. Their 
 preponderance in machine-guns was also marked. 
 But few days of the trench war had passed before 
 the machine-gun had come into its own. Officers 
 who had given but little thought to the intricate 
 mechanism of the death-dealing quick-firers could 
 be heard cursing administrations of all sorts because 
 of the obvious shortage of rapid-fire guns in the 
 British army. 
 
 A well-informed gunner gave the following twist 
 to one such conversation: " I know of reports im- 
 pressing the necessity of an increase of machine- 
 guns and machine-gunners that for years went an- 
 nually into the War Office. Why was nothing done ? 
 Because no money was forthcoming, that's why. The 
 taxpayer wouldn't stand it. No unlimited amount 
 for army expenditure has ever been available, and 
 rapid-fire guns are costly things. Reduction of army 
 
190 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 appropriation, not increase of its ordnance, is what a 
 politician preached if he wanted to court popularity. 
 Machine-guns, indeed! It's a wonder we have any 
 guns ! " Point of view differs, does it not? 
 
 Hard on the heels of Monday's peace came Tues- 
 day's disquiet. It was Paissy again for the day. A 
 jaunt to the reserve trenches and over the ground 
 of Sunday's battle was interesting until the German 
 gunners commenced shelling that part of the field. 
 At the first quartette of shrapnel I decamped. 
 Rifles, coats, kits, and all manner of personal prop- 
 erty were thrown about the trench where the fiercest 
 part of the action had taken place. Bibles, note- 
 books, match-boxes, bits of clothing, knives — the 
 jumble of oddments contained everything a soldier 
 ever carried and many things one would never asso- 
 ciate with Tommy or his German prototype. In a 
 little rain-washed gully a miniature case lay half- 
 covered in the mud. Inside it was the work of an 
 artist of ability, a lovely face painted deftly on 
 ivory, the sort of face possessing a sweetness of ex- 
 pression that makes one wonder where one has seen 
 the original. 
 
 A transcription from my diary pictures life in 
 Paissy. 
 
 " 11.30 a. m. Have been sitting on a rock under 
 the lee wall of a house we are using as headquarters. 
 The shelling of this town has gotten to be a Ger- 
 man habit. As I sit I face a narrow path from the 
 opposite edge of which the ground drops away to 
 the valley below. Big shells and little shells are 
 going over and around me. Now and again they 
 explode behind my back with a concussion that is 
 nerve racking. White clouds for shrapnel and big 
 
DIARY UNDER HOWITZER-FIRE 191 
 
 black clouds for Jack Johnsons follow the explosions 
 in front after the shriek of the shells in passing. 
 Those which strike near by frequently send a jagged 
 piece of projectile hurtling through the air with a 
 peculiar demoniacal wail of its own. The shells 
 which land behind jar the whole hill. The house 
 wall at my back trembles with the explosion. When 
 the big black melinite ones land in front, if they are 
 anything less than seventy-five to a hundred yards 
 distant, I feel the concussion. If they are closer, 
 there is a real physical shock when they explode. 
 Down the road, tree branches fallen, great holes 
 torn in the side of the roadway, and a pile of dead 
 horses are evidences that yesterday's shell-fire was 
 effective. In front, and a bit to the right, half-a- 
 dozen troopers are sorting out a pile of rifles and 
 ammunition which have been brought back from the 
 scene of the battle. 
 
 " 1 1.50 a.m. Four came close all at once. Could 
 almost feel one of them. It seemed just overhead. 
 Major Frazer has called, and with Captain Hamil- 
 ton-Grace has climbed a winding path which leads 
 to an old stone church on the top of the hill. The 
 tower of this church is an artillery observation post, 
 and the boys have gone up to have a look. 
 
 " 12.5. Fairclough asked if I would like to go up 
 into the church tower and have a look. Quaint old 
 place. I climbed the narrow winding stairway, the 
 stone steps worn down six to eight inches, and then 
 a ricketty ladder to the bell loft. We had a fine view 
 of our trenches, and high in the sky, on the right, 
 was a German war balloon — a ' sausage,' as the men 
 call it. A lot of shells came near the tower while 
 we were in it. They whirr past in a weird way when 
 
192 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 one is far up. When I came back down to this 
 back-to-wall position, a Sussex officer and a sergeant 
 were looking over my car. They told me they 
 thought it must have been hit by a shell that came 
 a moment ago, but they could find no new shell 
 marks on it. It was well I put the car in the shel- 
 ter of the wall. While I was in the church tower, I 
 am told, a shell burst on the other side of the wall, 
 wounded six troopers in the yard and one of the 
 party who were sorting the ammunition under the 
 big tree. His companions had left that job for the 
 moment ! 
 
 " 12.10. An orderly holding a couple of chargers 
 is sharing my wall. One of the horses is very rest- 
 less under this cannonade, and jumps nervously when 
 a shell bursts near us. The other horse seems to be 
 watching the lower levels where the green fields 
 are cut with dozens of big black holes, close to- 
 gether, in even circles, which show where the big 
 melinite chaps have burst. I wonder if he is depre- 
 cating the spoiling of that fine pasture-land? 
 
 "12.15. A dozen shrapnel came over at the same 
 time bursting in such close succession I could not 
 count the separate explosions. All but one or two 
 of them went off over and a little back of me. There 
 is a nasty, singing, twanging sound to those that 
 burst behind as the contents of the projectile and 
 pieces of it whirr over. The nervous horse nearly 
 walked on me. Shells cannot come any closer and 
 not score a hit. The troopers have stopped running 
 out and picking up hot pieces of shell. A while ago 
 they thought that good fun. I can't understand it. 
 For my part such keepsakes never interest me. I 
 am far too likely to be taking away a piece of shell 
 
DIARY UNDER HOWITZER-FIRE 193 
 
 as an internal souvenir, without troubling to fill my 
 pockets with similar keepsakes. Our guns across the 
 valley are replying now, and their shells sing over 
 our heads on their way to the enemy trenches. 
 Major Frazer came up and asked if I was writing 
 home and telling how much I am enjoying myself! 
 The nervous horse belongs to him. He and his or- 
 derly mounted and rode away during a lull in the 
 shelling. I wish him luck getting down that road. 
 
 " 12.25. — Another bunch of shrapnel all in a 
 heap. Six or eight bursting at once make a din. 
 Now the great melinite fellows are coming again. 
 A couple of enormous black clouds from the ravine 
 tell where they struck. There go two just behind 
 on the cliff. They left their cards in the form of 
 scattered bits which fell on the pathway in front 
 of me, not more than four or five feet distant. Close 
 work. Too close for comfort. A piece of shell 
 about four inches long and sharply pointed has stuck 
 right into the gravel path about thirty inches from 
 my foot. 
 
 " 12.30. — Five or six more, all high explosives. 
 The air in the valley is black with smoke. Two of 
 the last lot went through the trees a few feet away. 
 If one of them hit the tree trunk and exploded it 
 would be nasty here. Immediately afterwards a 
 dozen or more shrapnel, again in a group, went 
 through the same trees. Leaves and branches fell 
 in showers. An absolute rain of shells now for five 
 minutes. I dislike most the ones that burst behind 
 me. The noise of the whirring pieces is trying. 
 
 " 1 p. m. — Still steady firing. Our batteries have 
 taken a hand in the noise production at the rate of 
 thirty to forty shots to the minute. There is noth- 
 
194 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 ing to do but sit here and hope I shall get a run out 
 of it before long. It is better here than up on the 
 crest, for I am, I suppose, quite safe under the cliff 
 side behind the wall. 
 
 " 2 p. m. — The General is going now to pay a 
 visit to another part of the line. I am not sorry, 
 for three hours of this sort of thing are quite enough 
 for one day." 
 
 By General Allenby's haystack at Tour-de-Paissy 
 was a big telescope mounted on a tripod. It was in 
 disgrace. It served the Divisional Staff soberly and 
 well until the very moment of the German attack 
 on the West Yorks' trenches. Seeing men coming 
 over the ridge, Colonel Home, General Allenby's 
 G.S.O. i, declared his field-glasses made him think 
 them Germans. To make sure, the big telescope 
 was turned on the ridge. For the first time in its 
 history a moist film formed over the inner lens. A 
 line of grey smudges was all that could be made out 
 through its formerly far-seeing eye. When later 
 events proved that Home was right, and the men in 
 sight were Germans, moments precious to the guns 
 had been for ever lost. Had the telescope possessed 
 a soul it would have shrivelled in the heat of some of 
 the remarks caused by that unlucky atmospheric 
 visitation. 
 
 Not far from the haystack beside a muddy lane 
 rose a knoll. Under a small tree a couple of gun- 
 ners were on observation post. By the tree stood 
 a wayside shrine, on its pedestal the inscription, in 
 French, " Jesus is the way, the truth and the life." 
 Flanked by trenches, the guns of two Christian na- 
 tions hurling death from so little a distance that the 
 mound trembled with each discharge, the shell-fire 
 
DIARY UNDER HOWITZER-FIRE 195 
 
 of a third we once thought Christian searching every 
 foot of ground about it in frenzy to kill, I was struck 
 by the numbers of passers-by whose eyes were caught 
 by the familiar words, their faces softened as by a 
 memory of other days. 
 
 Fitting it should be so. The Englishmen who 
 were shedding their blood on those hillsides were 
 battling for the Cross as surely as those of their 
 forebears who followed Richard and the Crusades. 
 It is modern to be cynical and hard, but the old faith 
 has deep root in most of us, after all. We Anglo- 
 Saxons should be proud of such a heritage. 
 
 The 2nd Notts and Derby came in for an awful 
 hammering during the afternoon. Battery after 
 battery of the enemy's guns were turned on the 
 trenches above Paissy, but our men stuck to their line 
 in spite of the inferno the howitzers made of it. The 
 men reported seeing many Germans in front of them 
 in British caps and tunics. The Hun trenches were 
 400 yards from ours, and the desire of the German 
 soldiers to show themselves in their newly captured 
 khaki outfits was overpowering until the Notts and 
 Derby sharpshooters convinced them of the fool- 
 hardiness of so doing. 
 
 A sight that attracted daily attention on the Aisne 
 was the appearance of German aeroplanes, which 
 dropped signals to their guns, and thereupon were 
 shelled violently by our field batteries. Lines of 
 tiny white shell clouds, in long arcs across the sky 
 as the fire followed one of our airmen, told of 
 enemy anti-aircraft guns, the criticism or praise of 
 whose marksmanship aroused continual controver- 
 sies among the Tommies. 
 
 At dusk General de Lisle suggested scouting a 
 
196 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 new route around the Paissy crater. An army map 
 showed a road none of us had thus far found. To 
 pass through Paissy was an unpleasant experience. 
 At a corner, dead horses were piled high, and, in 
 the vernacular, " stunk horrid." A hole, three feet 
 deep and six wide, had been torn in the centre of 
 the road since I had made an earlier run over the 
 same route. In the dusk, I landed the car with a 
 smash and a jar plump in the middle of it. With 
 badly bent front axle we pushed on, wondering at 
 being able to do so. Over piles of debris from shat- 
 tered dwellings, and past felled trees we crawled, 
 then circled another shell-hole in the road so wide 
 that one side of the car dipped into it at a danger- 
 ous angle in passing. The road became a mere lane, 
 then a grassy, slippery track along the edge of the 
 precipice. A drop meant a fall of eighty feet. 
 Struggling up sharp ascents with wheels skidding 
 in the mud, at last we came to the end of the path. 
 We kept on a few hundred yards over the long grass, 
 negotiating one stretch with the car canted at an 
 angle of forty-five degrees. 
 
 We mounted a short, stiff gradient, and before us 
 lay a black abyss, trackless and sinister, obviously 
 too steep to allow of safe descent. 
 
 Turning the car on the edge of that drop, the 
 grass slippery from the early dew, no light permis- 
 sible to aid us, was at last safely accomplished. We 
 retraced our way, and took the usual route to 
 Longueval, having thoroughly proved the unrelia- 
 bility of the map. 
 
 The bent axle necessitated a run to the G.H.Q. 
 repair shops at Fere-en-Tardenois. " Rattle " Bar- 
 rett and I borrowed a car there from Westminster, 
 
DIARY UNDER HOWITZER-FIRE 197 
 
 who had two, as we had an errand for de Lisle 
 which took us to Sablonnieres, where one of the 
 General's horses had been wounded and left to con- 
 valesce. 
 
 At Fere-en-Tardenois I received my first letter 
 from London since my departure, thirty-three days 
 before. 
 
 French Divisions were moving to the north-west 
 and had been doing so for days. Joffre had started 
 de Castelnau's 7th Army and Maud'huy's 10th 
 Army toward Maunoury's left. The flanking move- 
 ment to turn Von Kluck's right had begun. De Cas- 
 telnau was to reach from Roye northward to 
 Chaulnes, and Maud'huy from north of the Somme 
 near Albert to Arras and beyond. 
 
 On September 24th we were up at three o'clock, 
 and once more made our way from Longueval to 
 Paissy, where the Brigade was to " stand by " in sup- 
 port. From Paissy I took the General to Troyon 
 by way of Moulins and Vendresse. 
 
 German shrapnel were paying the customary at- 
 tention to the road from Paissy. We waited by a 
 farm for a moment watching the shells burst ahead. 
 " Go slow," came the order. I crawled. De Lisle, 
 who was seated beside me, turned and looked 
 sharply at me. " Go ! Go ! " he cried. I had mis- 
 understood him. "Now, go!" he had said; not 
 " Go slow ! " I pushed on as fast as the car could 
 gather speed. But the momentary delay had upset 
 the General's nicely turned calculations. Before we 
 had crossed the open plain, Bang! came the first 
 shell; and Bang, bang, bang! — three others, just 
 above us. 
 
 The slivers rattled on the metal panels. A 
 
198 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 shrapnel bullet made a clean round bed in the top 
 of the radiator, and a good-sized splinter cut a deep 
 incision in a front wing. The door panel alongside 
 de Lisle was scraped by a sharp bit that buried in 
 the step. A piece the size of a pta struck the chief 
 on the nose, and a similar one gave me a stinging 
 blow on the shoulder. The floor of the car held 
 half a dozen fragments as we pulled up and took 
 stock beyond. Our luck had held, and we were none 
 the worse. 
 
 A bright, pretty day for a change, made our visit 
 to the " sugar mill trenches " above Troyon all the 
 more enjoyable. The men of the 1 8th Brigade were 
 burrowed in the high road bank. Tiny cave-like 
 shelters, canopied with branches or straw, made 
 snug quarters, safe, under the brow of the hill, from 
 the everlasting shell-fire. A subaltern of the East 
 Yorks said his lot had three killed and eighteen 
 wounded by high explosives in the^ front line the day 
 before. The same regiment, he said, lost eight offi- 
 cers and seventy-three men when the Germans at- 
 tacked so strenuously on the previous Sunday. Two 
 companies of the enemy had come straight on, that 
 day, in close formation, and suffered such casual- 
 ties from the East Yorks' fire that they had to retire 
 in confusion. 
 
 A persistent rumour had spread that the Cana- 
 dians were " out." " They won't be worth much 
 until they have had some of this sitting under Black 
 Marias. The best troops on earth would have to 
 take a day or so to break into it," sagely remarked 
 a beardless junior subaltern. His Division had ar- 
 rived on the scene but few days before, but he looked 
 with the eyes of a veteran on all newcomers. 
 
DIARY UNDER HOWITZER-FIRE 199 
 
 Real quiet rarely visited the Troyon ridge. Our 
 shells howled over, and the German shells screamed 
 hack. Rifle ? fire rose and fell in spasmodic waves of 
 souncL The evenly-punctuated barking of the ma- 
 chine-guns echoed across the gorge. 
 
 On our way back to Paissy two new shell-holes 
 showed where eight-inch projectiles had dropped 
 since we had passed over the road. Once a howit- 
 zer shell burst so near we ran through its smoke- 
 cloud — an ill-smelling mess. 
 
 All wished to take advantage of the rare oppor- 
 tunity of a warm sun-bath. We lined the wall,-«Il 
 the staff lying sleeping or reading as the afternoon 
 wore on. I slept soundly. An overwhelming crash 
 awakened me. A wicked high-explosive chap had 
 burst above the headquarters yard. My eyes and 
 mouth were full of dust and evil-tasting smoke. I 
 could not see a foot in front. As the smoke-cloud 
 cleared I saw Barrett swaying, and thought him 
 wounded. He had merely stumbled in rising. Not 
 one of us had been hit, though pieces of shell had 
 rained down. We scampered through the gate and 
 into the cave in the cliff. For an hour or more 
 Paissy underwent a bombardment that eclipsed any- 
 thing in that line with which it had been visited for- 
 merly. Venturing to sit on an overturned bucket 
 at the cave's mouth, I was toppled back by a brick, 
 which took me fair in the middle. Thereafter I was 
 content to keep well inside the cave until the Hun- 
 hate had been somewhat appeased, and the shelling 
 died down. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 A GERMAN ATTACK 
 
 . ■ j 
 
 Th-e Germans pounded our troops well during those 
 
 first weeks on the Aisne. Their shell fire, scored un- 
 til our positions were strengthened and the shelter 
 from bombardment improved. w Day by day this 
 work went on, the continual shelling taking less toll 
 of men as time passed. 
 
 We had our " days." A fresh Division of the 
 enemy, brought by train from St. Quentin to a point 
 fifteen miles from our lines, were seen at daybreak 
 one Saturday in front of Troyon. Our first sight of 
 them was when they marched in column of fours 
 pver the brow of a hill not 400 yards from our ad- 
 vance trenches. At their head strode a tall Hun 
 bearing a white flag tied to a long stick. The first 
 rows of men behind him were dressed in khaki. An 
 interesting procession. Over the crest of the hill 
 they came, every second bringing more of them to 
 their certain fate. To those who were watching it 
 seemed the enemy could not know the position of our 
 lines. The strain was too great for a sergeant behind 
 one of our machine-guns, and he " let go." His 
 officers nearly wept with rage. The forepart of the 
 German column shrivelled under the stream of bul- 
 lets from the quick-firers and rifles. Our whole line 
 was ablaze in a moment. Many huddled forms lay 
 in plain sight of our trenches as the light grew, but 
 most of the Germans had safely reached the cover 
 
A GERMAN ATTACK 201 
 
 of their front; trench, from which they kept up an 
 incessant and perfectly harmless fire for more than 
 an hour. 
 
 " If that blessed sergeant had been a bit patient," 
 said his company officer to me that morning, '.'. we 
 would have jolly well bagged the lot." 
 
 The same officer was gazing idly toward the front 
 during the late afternoon. His glance rested on the 
 still bundles of grey lying between the lines. Storms 
 of bullets from both sides had swept over the dead 
 all day long. A thought came to his mind. What a 
 crowning horror it would be to find that some of 
 the fallen jwere merely wounded. As he watched, 
 little bits of earth were kicked up here and there 
 by bullets that fell short and cut the soil of no-man's 
 land. Shell fire had ploughed furrows in it at fre- 
 quent intervals. Shrapnel bullets were sown broad- 
 cast over it. 
 
 Suddenly, as if in answer to his soliloquy, one of 
 the inanimate bundles seemed to come to life. It 
 rolled over. The man inside the grey coat leaped 
 to his feet. Hands held high in air, he ran like mad 
 for our trench line. Over the parapet he tumbled, 
 crashing on his head in the soft earth. Gaining his 
 knees, hands still held above him, a beatific grin 
 spread over his decidedly Teutonic features. 
 
 He spoke English quite well. " I shall to Eng- 
 land be sent, no?" he queried. " It was too long, 
 the time I lay out there. At first, I would to stay 
 till dark come. But my nervous, it was finished. I 
 could no longer quiet keep, no ? " And the cheerful 
 Hun, happy as a clam, was marched off under guard, 
 to be turned over to the London Scottish, who were 
 
202 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 guarding lines of communication, and entrained for 
 the South. 
 
 General Allenby and his headquarters staff lived 
 at Villers, south of the Aisne. A trooper was pull- 
 ing bundles of grain from a stack near Villers when 
 he found a man covered in the straw. Jerked from 
 his hiding-place, a tall young German Guardsman 
 in uniform stood before his captor. Examination 
 led to the alarming discovery that the German had 
 been lying at one end of a wire that tapped a tele- 
 graph line from divisional headquarters. For thir- 
 teen days, possibly, the messages over that wire had 
 been heard by ears for which they were by no means 
 intended. 
 
 General admiration for the German's pluck was 
 heard on all sides. To have stayed so long hidden 
 so far within his enemy's lines required coolness and 
 bravery. 
 
 Many were the conjectures as to how the infor- 
 mation which he gained was transmitted to his own 
 army. No other wire leading from the stack could 
 be found. Careful search of the vicinity resulted in 
 no enlightenment. At points the Aisne was dragged 
 with long rakes by energetic signalers, but all in 
 vain. The news of the capture was made a secret, 
 and night after night a vigil kept to intercept possi- 
 ble callers laden with food for the German or in 
 search of messages from him. No result was forth- 
 coming, save that the watchers caught one another 
 one night, and the next night caught cold, and the 
 solution of the puzzle remained a mystery. 
 
 Periodical visits to the trenches made me sure 
 that one day a fat howitzer shell would land in the 
 wrong place for me. The enemy made some roads 
 
X 
 
 A GERMAN ATTACK 203 
 
 impassable, but we always found another way round. 
 
 Colonel Steele of the Coldstreams showed us a 
 souvenir one day in the form of a ruined poncho. 
 His shelter above Vendresse was a short way back 
 of the trenches on the crest. Lying on his back, his 
 legs spread out, and his poncho so arranged that 
 it served for bed and coverlet, he dropped off to 
 sleep. He was awakened by one of our own 18- 
 pounder shrapnel, fired from somewhere in the valley 
 below, which fell short. The misguided shell went 
 directly between Steele's knees, ripping two gaping 
 holes in his poncho and burying itself, unexploded, in 
 the bank on which he was lying. 
 
 Tom Bridges was promoted Colonel of the 4th 
 Hussars, but four days after he had assumed com- 
 mand of the regiment a motor-car from G.H.Q. 
 called for him and hurried him off to Antwerp, for 
 service with King Albert and his Belgians. 
 
 Major Budworth and H Battery of the Royal 
 Horse Artillery came from England and joined the 
 2nd Cavalry Brigade while we were in Longueval. 
 At dinner on the night of Budworth's arrival Gen- 
 eral de Lisle said that he, the Major, Captain Skin- 
 ner of H Battery, and I would next morning take 
 f a run around," visit our gun positions past and 
 present, and " show the Major what German shell 
 fire was like." From experience I knew that meant 
 we would more than likely go " looking for trou- 
 ble." 
 
 Heavy cannonading continued throughout the 
 night. " Promiscous " one of the troopers called it. 
 Seemed wasteful, but at the end of two weeks of it 
 the British Army had suffered over 3,000 casualties 
 from the shell fire alone. 
 
2o 4 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 Our men were learning to keep to cover, and our 
 batteries had learned to disguise themselves well. 
 Miniature groves would spring up over the guns 
 in a night. The " heavies," what few we had of 
 them, were made to look like sheds or haystacks 
 when concealment of the battery was impossible. 
 These tricks our gunners learnt from the enemy, 
 who was a past master at such contrivances. 
 
 After doing the rounds of the guns our party 
 visited the trenches above Troyon. Serrocold's Bat- 
 talion of the 6oth Rifles and Steele's Coldstreams 
 were in front that day. 
 
 The Sugar-Mill Position, so called from the huge 
 mill above Troyon, since destroyed, that had been 
 taken and retaken a dozen times and had afforded 
 the Lancashires a chance to gain fine laurels, was 
 our nearest point of vantage in one sector of the 
 line. 
 
 There our barricade was one hundred yards south 
 of the summit of the ridge, and the German 
 trenches but eighty yards to the north of it. The 
 Sugar-Mill barricade had seen heavy fighting, but 
 was comparatively quiet at the time of our visit, 
 though sniper bullets occasionally sang overhead 
 and shrapnel came past at intervals. 
 
 Tucked under the brow of the hill, not far from 
 the front line, were Colonel Serrocold's headquar- 
 ters. A mutual friend had a few days before sent 
 by me a case of most welcome provender to Serro- 
 cold's mess, and in consequence I called to sample 
 the goods. 
 
 " We will get out of this to-day, sure," said the 
 Colonel. 
 
 " I think not, sir," I replied. " I have heard 
 
A GERMAN ATTACK 205 
 
 nothing of a change so far this morning. Why do 
 you think you are to move?" 
 
 " Because we have just finished the construction 
 of the first good dry shelter we have had for some 
 days," was the answer. " I'm sure this is so per- 
 fect a spot now that we are doomed to be sent else- 
 where, and others will spend a comfortable night in 
 our snug quarters." 
 
 I laughed at his mock pessimism, and had an- 
 other laugh the next day when I learned that sure 
 enough the 60th had been shifted late in the after- 
 noon. Serrocold's prophecy had come true most un- 
 expectedly, and his palatial quarters had to be 
 turned over to his successors. 
 
 We visited General FitzClarence and his staff in 
 a typical cave Brigade headquarters under the brow 
 of the Aisne Heights. Well inside the cave the Bri- 
 gade staff work could be done without fear of inter- 
 ruption. 
 
 These cave headquarters were quite " comfy." 
 But any spot in those days might be a headquarters. 
 I remember one that consisted of the body of a de- 
 funct W. and G. taxicab. 
 
 In Vendresse half an hour later we were treated 
 to some fairly close shelling, the first projectile land- 
 ing on the other side of a high stone wall as we 
 passed. A run to Paissy and a view from the 
 church tower concluded our tour of sightseeing. We 
 returned to Longueval for luncheon. We had taken 
 Budworth under rifle and shell fire and shown him 
 heaps of German dead a few yards distant from our 
 trenches. As we pulled up, one of the party made 
 a comment on the quiet and security of quaint 
 Longueval, far from scenes of violence which had 
 
2o6 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 become the daily round in such towns as we had 
 visited that morning. 
 
 But Longueval had proved less safe, in spite of 
 its distance from the firing line, than the trenches 
 and the hill towns close behind. Half an hour be- 
 fore our return five great howitzer shells from long- 
 range guns had "crashed into the village. One struck 
 the centre of the stone-paved yard of a farm where 
 a squadron of 9th Lancers was billeted. Lieutenant 
 Whitehead was directing the cleaning of an open 
 space between the barns. He and eleven of his 
 men were killed and thirteen wounded. Among the 
 killed was the sergeant-major of the 9th and two 
 sergeants. Five horses were killed, and others 
 wounded so badly it was necessary to destroy them. 
 
 The General was of opinion that the few shells 
 had come that way as a chance bit of itinerant bom- 
 bardment, to which most of the Aisne towns within 
 range of the German guns would be subjected at 
 one time or another. At two o'clock five more 
 Black Marias fell near Longueval, but did no more 
 damage than to rip up the field in which they fell. 
 
 After luncheon I ran to Rheims with the General 
 to see the ravaged cathedral. The stately Gothic 
 pile was reported to be a heap of ruins. It was 
 hardly that, but nevertheless had been cruelly 
 knocked about. Streets near by were choked lanes 
 between rows of desolate monuments to the Ger- 
 man love of wanton destruction. 
 
 Back in Longueval late in the afternoon we found 
 the Brigade saddled and ready to move from the 
 village. Less than an hour from the time of the 
 General's departure a dozen high explosive shells 
 had been hurled into the little town. One lit in a 
 
A GERMAN ATTACK 207 
 
 narrow street outside the door of our headquarters, 
 killing a man who was standing in the doorway and 
 four other troopers who were grouped near by, and 
 wounding twelve who were passing. My bedroom 
 had been used as an emergency dressing station, and 
 my bed as an operating table. The place was soaked 
 in blood. As in the morning, the 9th Lancers had 
 been the regiment to suffer. Of the two dozen 
 killed and nearly as many wounded that day in 
 Longueval all but one or two were 9th Lancers. 
 
 An explanation of the shelling was at last forth- 
 coming. A supply train had been halted by an in- 
 judicious Army Service Corps subaltern on the brow 
 of the hill above the village and in plain sight of the 
 enemy's observation posts on the heights across the 
 Aisne. The lorries on the skyline had caught the 
 attention of our gunners on slopes far in front. 
 Word was sent at once that such advertisement of 
 our billeting centres would bear sinister result, but 
 the message came too late. 
 
 I spent the night on a bundle of straw in the open. 
 My only warm blanket had disappeared in the melee 
 attending the hurried dressing of the wounded and 
 their prompt dispatch to the hospital at Villers. In 
 consequence I woke on the morning of Wednesday, 
 September 30th, with a decided chill. The Brigade 
 moved at daybreak to St. Thibaut, a village on the 
 Vesle between Braisnes and Fismes. I had planned 
 a joy ride to Rheims. With Major Solly Flood of 
 the 4th Dragoon Guards, Osborn, the 4th Dragoon 
 Guards' sawbones, and Fairclough, I paid a second 
 visit to the cathedral. 
 
 The fields ?nd roadways near Rheims were full 
 
208 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 of townsfolk driven from their homes by the Ger- 
 man shells. 
 
 A high fever induced me to take a couple of 
 hours' rest between clean sheets at the Lion d'Or, 
 across from the great church. Not even the novelty 
 of a cool white bed lowered my temperature, which 
 had so mounted by afternoon that Osborn bade me 
 spend the night in Rheims, while he and the others 
 went back without me. From three to five o'clock, 
 and again at seven in the evening, German shells 
 were poured into the town, one striking the hotel. 
 It was by no means the first that had done so. The 
 sole remaining chambermaid apprised me at night 
 that at one time during the afternoon I had been 
 the only occupant of the hotel who had not taken 
 refuge in the cellar. This was due largely to the 
 fact that I was sound asleep during the hottest part 
 of the show. Twice, she said, she had run upstairs 
 to see if I was still whole and sound, to find me 
 pouring forth scornful snores to the accompaniment 
 of the frequent crashes of the howitzer shells. 
 
 The next day I sallied forth, very shaky on my 
 pins, but comparatively free from fever. My old 
 friend Frank Hedges Butler was in Rheims, brav- 
 ing the bombardment to procure the pick of the 
 vintages. With him I visited the Pommery and 
 Greno caves and those of G. H. Mumm. Crowds 
 hung about the entrances waiting to rush inside the 
 moment further shelling began. The Pommery 
 chateau was demolished by the scores of Black 
 Marias that had sought it out. The champagne had 
 been but little disturbed, and most of it lay safe and 
 snug in the miles of subterranean passages that 
 honeycomb underground Rheims. Mumm, a Ger- 
 
A GERMAN ATTACK 209 
 
 man, was a prisoner in French hands. Robinet, his 
 French partner, was delightfully cordial. 
 
 " The day the Germans came into Rheims a col- 
 onel stamped his way into my house," said Robinet, 
 " and told me abruptly I was to prepare imme- 
 diately fifty beds for German wounded. I replied 
 in his own tongue that fifty beds I could not possibly 
 arrange, but would be glad to provide ten if he 
 would give me sufficient time to do so. The colonel 
 was very brutal. He left the house swearing he 
 would return in an hour's time. If I failed to pro- 
 duce the fifty beds demanded I would, he said, be 
 shot forthwith. 
 
 " An hour later a thin young German officer came 
 in, a couple of bottles of champagne in one hand. 
 Depositing the wine tenderly in a corner, he asked 
 to see what accommodation I had provided for the 
 wounded. I showed him the ten beds, which were 
 being got ready as rapidly as possible. " This one,' 
 said the young German, " I wish to have reserved 
 for a member of my staff who has been severely 
 wounded. See that it is kept for him, please.' 
 
 " Something in his tone and manner made me 
 look colser at this officer, and suddenly it flashed 
 over me that it must be the Crown Prince. As he 
 left the house, after carefully turning over the two 
 bottles of champagne to one of his staff officers who 
 had appeared on the scene, I asked if he was the 
 Prince, and found my conjecture was correct. He 
 called several times thereafter, evincing the greatest 
 interest in the welfare of the wounded member of 
 his staff until the latter was sent back to Germany. 
 
 " The colonel who had threatened me with death 
 as a punishment for not acceding to his demand for 
 
210 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 fifty beds called the same night and very elaborately 
 apologised. He told me he had been wounded, 
 and for four days his wound had been undressed. 
 For three days he had hardly tasted food. ' To go 
 so long with no time for eating or sleeping,' he 
 said, ' and with the irritation of constant pain, made 
 me inexcusably uncivil. I wish to be pardoned.' He 
 was so punctilious about it that the following day 
 he asked me to step down to his headquarters, where 
 he called in several officers, some of whom had wit- 
 nessed his abusive conduct of the day before, and 
 again apologised in their presence. He was de- 
 cidedly thorough about it, once he took it into his 
 head to make amends. 
 
 " One of the Crown Prince's staff said to me, 
 ' Why do your Parisian papers lie so ? They say 
 the British force is here or there, as if they do not 
 know that French's army is either killed or cap- 
 tured to a man. I can assure you,' he continued 
 most vehemently, ' on my word as a gentleman, the 
 British Army no longer exists. It is finished abso- 
 lutely.' He was equally dogmatic in his assertion 
 that the German army would enter Paris in three 
 days' time." 
 
 Eight hundred wounded Germans were cared for 
 in Rheims. Some were there still at the time of my 
 visit. 
 
 An early start after a second night's rest at the 
 Lion d'Or landed me at St. Thibaut for breakfast. 
 
 The day before, an officer from G.H.Q. whom 
 I had met in Rheims had told me of the prospective 
 change of area of operations of the British Force. 
 Antwerp was like to fall, he said, and the Huns to 
 press on towards the Channel with their eyes on 
 
A GERMAN ATTACK 211 
 
 Calais, Boulogne, and even Havre. Joffre's move- 
 ment on the left to outflank Von Kluck's right was 
 being met by a German offensive in the same area 
 that had not proved altogether unsuccessful. To 
 move the British force west and north would put it 
 in direct touch with the seacoast and the British 
 Fleet, and free it from the inconvenience of having 
 its line of supply crossed by those of the French 
 6th, 7th, and 10th Armies to the westward. Be- 
 sides, he argued, the trench warfare on our front 
 had degenerated into a stalemate. To hold the line 
 along the Aisne much less seasoned troops could 
 with advantage be employed, and French's men, al- 
 ready veterans, released for more important and 
 exacting work in the northern theatre. West Flan- 
 ders, he opined, would see some stiff fighting. All 
 this was secret and much of it left to implication, 
 to be pieced together as the next days passed. That 
 but few had an inkling of the prospect of such change 
 I am sure. It was not anticipated in our own com- 
 mand, or if it was, not a soul breathed a word of it. 
 
 On the morning of Friday, October 2nd, the 2nd 
 Calvary Brigade left its billets at St. Thibaut and 
 moved up to Chassemy, in front of the enemy's 
 stubborn position at Conde. The next day Gough's 
 2nd Cavalry Division moved west en route for the 
 Allied left flank. Allenby's 1st Cavalry Division, of 
 which our Brigade was a part, followed on the night 
 of Sunday the 4th. 
 
 The Conde salient had proved a strong one. We 
 flanked it on right and left, but the German batteries 
 on the heights dominated the level ground to the 
 south of the Aisne in and about Chassemy. Taking 
 General de Lisle and our three regimental com- 
 
212 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 manders, Colonel Mullins, Colonel Burnett, and 
 Major Beale-Browne, to Chassemy from Braisnes, 
 our route lay over a road where a crawl at intervals 
 was enjoined, as the smallest dust cloud meant a 
 rain of German shrapnel. Chassemy was battered 
 and the road from that town to Conde a mass of 
 shell holes. Leaving the car in the shelter of a 
 house, a walk along the edge of the forest in front, 
 the Bois Morin, gave a good view of the German 
 position. One hundred yards beyond the Conde 
 bridge a German outpost was securely dug in on 
 the hill side, ready to sweep the causeway with ma- 
 chine-gun fire. By the bridge lay the bodies of Cap- 
 tain Henderson of G.H.Q. and his chauffeur, along- 
 side their riddled car. Henderson was thought to 
 have lost his way about September 20th, and run 
 into the Conde outpost by mistake. 
 
 Doding in and out of the forest edge, keeping 
 well out of sight of the enemy to avoid attracting 
 his ever-ready shells, blazed trees told us the safe 
 path. Now we passed a battery of guns, now a re- 
 serve of machine-guns protected from the searching 
 shrapnel fire. Splintered trees and fallen branches 
 showed that the German artillery had played fre- 
 quently on the wood. 
 
 In Braisnes I chatted with a guard of London 
 Scottish at the railway crossing. They had been 
 " out " for a fortnight, they said, but, as a fine-look- 
 ing sergeant disgustedly informed me, " had seen 
 ing sergeant disgustedly informed me, " had seen- 
 nothing as yet." The day was to come when he 
 would have no complaint on that score, and, little 
 as I imagined it then, I was to be with him. 
 
 Our forty-eight hours in that part of the line was 
 
A GERMAN ATTACK 213 
 
 uneventful, and on Sunday night, when the dark- 
 ness had closed in sufficiently to veil our movements, 
 the Brigade started off to the westward. 
 
 The Aisne we had reached with such sanguine 
 hopes twenty-one days before was still the high- 
 water mark of our advance. The three weeks- fight- 
 ing had cost the British Army in France nearly 600 
 officers and 13,000 men. We had learned much of 
 warfare, and were off to green fields and pastures 
 new to further our education. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 NIGHT MARCHES 
 
 The march of the ist Cavalry Division from the 
 Aisne to the zone of operations in West Flanders 
 occupied a week. 
 
 Until clear of the Aisne country our marches were 
 made at night. In the daytime the troops were kept 
 under cover in order that enemy aircraft should be 
 able to collect as little information as possible. 
 
 An airman told me the secreting of troops from 
 air scouts was much more of an art than most folk 
 might imagine. " The Germans," he said, " are 
 adapts at hiding their guns, but not so good at con- 
 cealing moving troops. They were very much ahead 
 of our people at covering traces of their ordnance, 
 and are still so, though not to such degree as for- 
 merly. I have seen some of our batteries that were 
 well protected from the front, but perfectly visible 
 when viewed from the rear. The Germans cover the 
 wheel tracks when they take their guns from the 
 road and across the soft earth of the fields. I have 
 noted the position of one of our batteries, splen- 
 didly hidden as far as the actual field pieces were 
 concerned, which I could " spot " with the greatest 
 ease from the marks left by the wheels as the guns 
 were brought into position. 
 
 " A French Zouave was taken prisoner and es- 
 caped, making his way back to Rheims. He re- 
 
 214 
 
NIGHT MARCHES 215 
 
 ported a German battery at a certain point which 
 neither we nor the French airmen could locate. 
 Questioned, he described the enemy guns as being 
 so hidden that only the muzzles protruded from 
 elaborate shelters built around them in the form of 
 low sheds. We were then able to find the exact 
 spot, and not long after our howitzers blew those 
 fake sheds to pieces, scoring at least one, if not two, 
 direct hits on the enemy's guns." 
 
 On the night of Sunday, October 4th, we made 
 Hartennes, south of Soissons, by bright moonlight, 
 and there spent the following day. The change 
 from the pestilential Braisnes district to the quiet 
 country was delightful. The gently rolling hills, 
 well-cultivated, seemed far indeed from scenes of 
 war and pillage, though Soissons was less than ten 
 miles from us. 
 
 My work for the week's trek was to push on 
 ahead, reconnoitre the roads, and wait to guide de- 
 tachments at points where errors in direction might 
 be made. Taking the billeting officers from the 
 column to the area of the next stop also fell to my 
 lot. Last, but not least, I kept touch with the Gen- 
 eral, ready to carry messages for him or take him 
 for a frequent journey. 
 
 The G.H.Q. printing office was productive of 
 pages of extracts from diaries and letters found on 
 the enemy. All the ills that flesh is heir to had been 
 absorbed by the pessimistic writers whose quota- 
 tions adorned those sheets. One read depression 
 and despair in every line. The prevailing tone was 
 in sharp contrast to the inevitable grousing good- 
 nature of Thomas Atkins. 
 
 " Information about Engagements with the 
 
216 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 Enemy " was another cheery publication which told 
 of doughty deeds of never varying success. The 
 editor of thesse effusions at times waxed solemnly 
 humorous, as the following paragraph bears wit- 
 ness :— 
 
 " It is reported on reliable authority that on one 
 occasion when the opposing trenches were within 
 seventy yards of each other, our men made frequent 
 attempts to tempt the enemy to come out by gentle 
 badinage. All efforts were unavailing until some- 
 one shouted in a peremptory tone, ' Waiter ! ' when 
 no less than twenty-three heads appeared." 
 
 Our objectives on Monday night were three vil- 
 lages not far west of Villers-Cotteret. I landed 
 Bernard Neame, of the 18th Hussars, and Algy 
 Court, of the 9th Lancers, in the billeting area in 
 good time, after passing battery on battery of 
 French guns en route for the north-west. Largny, 
 one of our villages, was found filled to overflowing, 
 in possession of two Battalions of the 13th Infan- 
 try Brigade. The Colonel of the West Kents said 
 he had received orders to move, but before he could 
 do so the orders were countermanded. Two other 
 Brigades held Vez, our second village, and Hara- 
 mont, our third, was providing standing room for 
 the greater part of six or seven hundred French in- 
 fantrymen. The arrival of " Rattle " Barrett and 
 Solly Flood, the other billeting officers, cast but little 
 light on the situation. A bivouac for the brigade 
 in the thick woods was planned, but about midnight 
 further instructions reached us that three other ad- 
 jacent villages had been assigned us. The wild hunt 
 in the dark, past batteries of guns, troops of cav- 
 alry, hordes of French infantry, and all manner and 
 
NIGHT MARCHES 217 
 
 condition of Allied supply trains, was temper-try- 
 ing, but we won through at last. 
 
 The chateau at Coyelles, the second station of 
 our journey, had been robbed by the Germans of 
 every bottle of wine in its cellars. Big waggons 
 were sent, the caretaker said, to cart away the loot. 
 Yet the Germans had left the house otherwise un- 
 rifled. The cabinets were full of silver, rare orna- 
 ments littered the tables, and old tapestries hung 
 on the walls. The many bedrooms each held a com- 
 plement of French officers, so most of our staff re- 
 posed on the polished floor of the drawing-rooms. 
 Beautiful rugs and embroidered draperies, carefully 
 folded, were piled high on the centre tables. With- 
 out damage to them or inconvenience to their own- 
 ers, we rearranged them in such wise that they made 
 a softer couch than the hard boards, and slept the 
 sleep of the justly weary. 
 
 In passing through Villers-Cotteret, I saw Lang- 
 ton, the secretary of the Paris Travellers' Club, who 
 told me that for seventy-two hours a continual 
 stream of troops had been pouring through the city 
 day and night. 
 
 On Tuesday the Brigade did not wait for night- 
 fall to resume its pilgrimage, but were under way 
 about noon. Short of petrol that morning, I begged 
 some from an obliging French airman. Quite a 
 collection of French monoplanes, covered in their 
 nighties of canvas, cuddled around a quartette of 
 stacks away from the road. At a short distance 
 one could hardly distinguish them from innocent 
 farm machinery, put aside, carefully swathed, till 
 harvest time. No more friendly men live than the 
 French airmen. I was never in want of anything 
 
218 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 they could supply for longer than it took to tell 
 them my needs, in whatever part of the line I might 
 be. 
 
 Reconnoitring routes on the edge of the Forest 
 of Compiegne was fascinating work. At level 
 crossings trainload after trainload of infantry and 
 guns, mostly of Smith-Dorrien's 2nd Corps, sped 
 by. We passed the town which had been occupied 
 by General Smith-Dorrien himself the night before, 
 and learned that he, too, had been hurried north by 
 rail that morning. Huge pontoons across the Oise 
 marked the change of our direction from westward 
 to a more northerly course, rounding a corner close 
 to Compiegne, and then heading for Montdidier. 
 Remy was our night stop, a village missed by the 
 Germans when Von Kluck pushed south towards 
 Paris. The rich farm country gave us of its best. 
 We revelled in incomparable produce, fresh as 
 morning dew, and a great treat to our unaccustomed 
 palates. 
 
 A still earlier start was made on Wednesday. I 
 had suggested a quick dash in and out of Com- 
 piegne to purchase certain necessities. De Lisle 
 said, " No, not this morning. Keep in touch with 
 the Brigade. We are concentrating to-day, and may 
 possibly go into action before night." By early 
 afternoon we passed through Montdidier and turned 
 towards the east. 
 
 Captain Baron le Jeune, of the Cuirassiers, a 
 French liaison officer attached to the 2nd Cavalry 
 Brigade, ran with me ahead of our column into 
 Montdidier. 
 
 A French staff officer who knew Le Jeune told us 
 of de Castelnau's push forward to Noyon in Sep- 
 
NIGHT MARCHES 219 
 
 tember, and the awful conflict that resulted in the 
 Germans forcing the French line back from Noyon 
 and Lassigny. Maud'huy, he said, had come into 
 position north of de Castelnau, and hoped to en- 
 velop the enemy's right in the direction of Cambrai 
 and Valenciennes. But Maud'huy had well-nigh 
 been enveloped himself and thrust back to Arras 
 and beyond it, News had come on that October 6th 
 that Maud'huy had retired to the high ground west 
 of Arras, though not giving up the town, while 
 Lille, defended by a French Territorial Division 
 only, was sore pressed. 
 
 A French medical officer on duty at the Mont- 
 didier railway station joined in the conversation. 
 Over ten thousand French wounded, he told us, had 
 been through his hands during the previous eight 
 days. 
 
 The reason for the diversion of our 1st Cavalry 
 Division to the support of the French forces fighting 
 in front of Roye was a superhuman effort by the 
 enemy the day before. Roye had been evacuated 
 by the French, and the fiercest of the conflict was 
 already a few miles to the west of it. Naturally, as 
 the Division was passing the very point of danger, 
 the French asked that it should be held in the vicinity 
 for twenty-four hours in case of need. We were 
 taken up within sight of the shells and sound of the 
 battle, but the French line held to the satisfaction 
 of its commanders, so by nightfall we pushed on 
 to the north. We slept at Aubvillers, en route to 
 Amiens, and the next day passed through that thriv- 
 ing metropolis to Villers-Bocage, where we spent 
 Thursday night. 
 
 At daybreak on Friday, the 9th, we were awak- 
 
220 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 ened by interminable lines of troop-laden motor lor- 
 ries and convoys of armoured cars. French troops 
 were being poured north at breakneck speed. The 
 race for the sea was daily becoming more exciting. 
 The collision of the hurrying armies was to make a 
 bloody meeting-place of Flanders one day soon. By 
 night we had passed Doullens and were to the west 
 of Arras. 
 
 The following morning an early start found us 
 proceeding eastward, the sound of the guns hourly 
 growing louder and louder. Arras was being 
 shelled by the Germans, and conflicting stories as to 
 operations thereabouts were afoot. I was alone, 
 with orders that allowed considerable latitude as to 
 route. Reaching Aubigny, I turned towards Arras, 
 and was soon on the outskirts of the city. Parks 
 were full of French transport, villages and towns 
 were crowded with French troops in reserve, and 
 refugees were swarming along the broad highway. 
 The entire population of Arras seemed tramping 
 that road. Dozens toiling towards the town met 
 scores hurrying away from it. Acquaintances bound 
 in opposite directions met and argued the wisest 
 procedure. Every hamlet within miles was full to 
 overflowing. The merits of a roof over one's head 
 in the path of the shells were weighed against a 
 night spent in the open fields out of range of the 
 guns. 
 
 I met two residents of Arras, apparently men of 
 substance, both well along in years. " Two days 
 ago," said one of them, " the Germans demanded 
 the surrender of Arras. The General in command 
 sent back word that the city would never surrender, 
 but would be defended to the last man. Every pick 
 
NIGHT MARCHES 221 
 
 and shovel was in use day and night to entrench our 
 soldiers. After a vicious bombardment the enemy 
 attacked in mass. The Germans came on well 
 within the suburbs to the southeast of the city, be- 
 tween our trenches, cleverly concealed, that com- 
 manded the line of their advance from two sides. 
 When at last the waiting defenders opened fire the 
 carnage was awful. Back the Germans were driven, 
 and still back, to a point a good five kilometres to 
 the south-east. Seven thousand dead and wounded 
 Germans were picked up in Arras, and two thou- 
 sand more behind the sugar factory outside the city, 
 from the shelter of which the fleeing Germans were 
 driven like sheep by the glorious ' soixante-quinze.' " 
 
 It was thrilling to hear the recital of it. The 
 good man's tally of the casualties may have been 
 high, but the pride of French achievement that vi- 
 brated through his story dwarfed detail. 
 
 His white-haired companion told me the whole of 
 Arras was destroyed by German shells, but he who 
 had recounted the tale of the fighting shook his 
 head. " No," he said, " not all destroyed. Hurt, 
 but not so greatly. My friend's house was hit by 
 two shells and lies a mass of ruins. To him, in- 
 deed, little of Arras remains. It is natural, is it 
 not?" He smiled sadly, but his eyes lit up as we 
 parted, and he said, " They came on between the two 
 lines, and when the fire leaped at them they were 
 mown down like corn. Arras is not in German 
 hands, nor will be." He strode on with thin shoul- 
 ders thrown boldly back, full of that wonderful 
 fighting spirit that has fallen over France and en- 
 veloped the race — man, woman, and child of every 
 age and calling. 
 
222 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 That afternoon we learned of the evacuation of 
 Lille by the French Territorials and the screen of 
 German cavalry, reported to be seven Divisions or 
 more, thrown out to the westward. Villers-Brulin, 
 a village west of Lens, was our halting-place on 
 Friday night. We were within a day's march of 
 where Smith-Dorrien's 2nd Corps was being hur- 
 ried, some Brigades on foot and some by columns 
 of light French motor lorries. The 2nd Corps had 
 detrained at Abbeville and the 3rd Corps at St. 
 Omer. We were drawing near to the fighting zone. 
 A French woman was brought to our headquarters 
 that night who had seen French infantry and cav- 
 alry retiring in our direction during the afternoon 
 through Bruay. Country folk there told her of 
 German troops in Vermelles and Mazingarbe, not 
 far south-east of Bethune, and less than a dozen 
 miles from our billets. 
 
 So Sunday, October nth, found us at the end of 
 our peaceful trek from the Aisne. By night we were 
 launched into the fight in an area that was to see 
 the troops of the British Expeditionary Force for 
 weeks that were to lengthen into months, and months 
 that bid fair to lengthen into years in turn. 
 
 Our first objective was a village close to Bethune. 
 During the early morning our way led through 
 France's Black Country. Crowds of people poured 
 from the big factory and mining towns to watch our 
 passing. Chocques, Gonneheim, Robecq, and St. 
 Venant were on our line of march. Names strange 
 to us then, but to grow in time as familiar as names 
 of Midland towns at home. At Chocques a long 
 column of 2nd Corps infantry was trudging east- 
 
NIGHT MARCHES 223 
 
 ward, to be thrown into the battle line the next morn- 
 ing. 
 
 Firing had been heavy to the east of us as we had 
 pushed on northward, the roll of the rifles sounding 
 clear in the near distance. As we lunched word came 
 that the enemy were hammering hard to force our 
 infantry from Vielle Chapelle, and Conneau's 
 French cavalry were prosecuting a vigorous attack 
 in the direction of Laventie. Gough's 2nd Cavalry 
 Division had been fighting in front of us. 
 
 By dusk the 2nd Cavalry Brigade had reached the 
 outskirts of Merville. Our orders were to press on 
 through the Forest of Nieppe, holding through the 
 night a line on the eastern edge of the forest. 
 
 I covered many miles that day. I was rarely 
 without a message to deliver to Divisional head- 
 quarters or one to take back to de Lisle. Colonel 
 David Campbell, of the 9th Lancers, arrived from 
 England with his wounds healed. I took him from 
 Merville to General Allenby's headquarters at St. 
 Venant. Returning, we sought to follow the road 
 Hamilton-Grace had carefully marked on my map, 
 as the Brigade had moved on into the forest. 
 
 The French soldiers lowered the drawbridge and 
 we ran through Merville, the streets full of Briggs' 
 1 st Brigade, troops of French cavalry and French 
 Territorials. A barricade had been thrown across 
 the road by which we sought to leave the town. 
 Long argument preceded its removal to allow our 
 passage. A few yards further a second obstruc- 
 tion had been placed at the edge of a canal and the 
 drawbridge opened. No pleading could move the 
 French non-commissioned officer in charge. His 
 orders were to allow no one to pass. Besides, he 
 
224 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 said, the Germans were just beyond. Incidentally, 
 he remarked that should be allow his barricade to 
 be pulled down the bridge had been so wedged as 
 to prevent its spanning the canal until some missing 
 parts had been replaced. Nothing remained but to 
 retrace our steps, again derange the first barricade 
 to allow our return to Merville, and make a detour. 
 
 Next day we learned that had we crossed the 
 canal we would have encountered German cavalry 
 outposts and our own, an almost equally hazardous 
 proceeding in the dark. One of the 9th Lancers 
 was shot by a patrol of the 4th Dragoon Guards 
 that night along the same road, and not far away 
 Lieutenant Montefiore, leading the advance squad- 
 ron of 9th Lancers, came upon a German outpost, 
 whose discovery at eight to ten yards distance led 
 to a sharp exchange of fire, in which a trooper was 
 killed and Montefiore received two bullets through 
 his arm. Withal I was quite pleased the road had 
 been so well blocked. 
 
 The night in the wood was cold and damp. The 
 Headquarters Staff was housed in a rude estaminet. 
 We slept on bundles of straw spread about the 
 floor. 
 
 Before the thick mist had risen from the long 
 lanes through the forest I was off with the General 
 to visit the outposts. A dead German charger 
 nearly blocked the road beyond La Motte du Bois, 
 and the villagers tried to stop us to present us with 
 the saddle. On our return our appetites for a wait- 
 ing breakfast were not augmented by the sight of 
 peasants taking steaks from the dead horse. The 
 fighting started early, and desultory actions took 
 place all morning, the enemy gradually failing back 
 
NIGHT MARCHES 225 
 
 before us. 
 
 The formation of a Cavalry Corps, with General 
 Allenby in command, was announced. General de 
 Lisle succeeded to the 1st Cavalry Division and as- 
 sumed his new duties at once. He kindly asked me 
 to accompany him to the Divisional Staff. I had 
 become a genuine admirer of de Lisle as a soldier, 
 and we had grown to be fast friends. Neverthe- 
 less, it was with not a little regret that I changed 
 the blue Brigade flags on my car for red Divisional 
 ones. Never had I met, nor shall I ever meet, a 
 finer body of soldiers than were in the 2nd Cav- 
 alry Brigade. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 FALL OF ANTWERP 
 
 The ist Cavalry Division saw hard fighting soon 
 after its arrival in Flanders. On October 12th, 
 Smith-Dorrien started an action with his 2nd Corps 
 which had for its objective the capture of La Bassee 
 and the occupation of Lille. For five days the fight 
 raged. A frontal attack on La Bassee was early 
 found to be abortive. The Germans at that point, 
 occupied the strongest natural defensive position in' 
 the whole northern area. Consequently Smith-Dor- 
 rien attempted a swinging movement to the north 
 of La Bassee, to get astride the road to Lille, and 
 attack the La Bassee position from the rear. It so 
 far succeeded, after strenuous work, that the Lille 
 road was almost in sight. Then it stopped, hard 
 against the main position of a heavily reinforced 
 enemy. 
 
 While Smith-Dorrien's 2nd Corps was winning 
 ground, step by step, between Laventie and La 
 Bassee, and pushing as far eastwards as Aubers and 
 Herlies, Pulteney's 3rd Corps was sweeping east- 
 ward to Armentieres. Disentraining at St. Omer 
 and hurriedly marching to Hazebrouck, a sharp en- 
 gagement took place at Meteren. Bailleul and 
 Armentieres were occupied with but little effort, and 
 by the night of October 17th Pulteney faced a 
 strong German line to the east of the River Lys. 
 
 Allenby's Cavalry Corps, the ist and 2nd Cav- 
 226 
 
FALL OF ANTWERP 227 
 
 airy Divisions, was on the left front of Pulteney's 
 advance, and Conneau's French Cavalry on his 
 right, the latter coupling the 3rd Corps with the 
 left of the 2nd Corps. To Allenby fell the forcing 
 of the Lys from the left of the 3rd Corps near 
 Armentieres to Warneton, a task which was quickly 
 proven to be beyond the powers of the small force 
 at his command. The Cavalry Corps then became 
 the connecting link between Rawlinson's 4th Corps 
 in front of Ypres and Pulteney's 3rd Corps in front 
 of Armentieres. The thin line of troopers held on 
 gallantly in the centre of the British line, though 
 overwhelmingly outnumbered by the enemy, while 
 the German attacks on Haig and Rawlinson at 
 Ypres and on Smith-Dorrien at La Bassee surged 
 forward and back in the bloodiest fighting of the 
 war. 
 
 Our knowledge of the situation in Belgium was 
 slight. We knew Antwerp had fallen on October 
 9th, and that Rawlinson's 4th Corps, consisting of 
 Capper's 7th Division and Byng's 3rd Cavalry 
 Division, having landed at Zeebrugge two or three 
 days before, were covering the retirement of the 
 shattered Belgian Army westward -along the coast, 
 but that was all. 
 
 The night of October 12th found us in posses- 
 sion of Vieux Berquin and Strazeele after an after- 
 noon of desultory fighting. Gough's 2nd Cavalry 
 Division on our left had pushed north through 
 Caestre and Fletre, and reported the Germans in 
 Meteren. 
 
 In mid-afternoon the 9th Lancers moved from 
 Strazeele towards Merris and came under the 
 enemy's shrapnel fire. Budworth was sent post- 
 
228 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 haste to Strazeele with two guns of H Battery to 
 draw the attention of the German gunners from the 
 9th. He had to guess at the position of the enemy's 
 guns. The H Battery field pieces went into action 
 at the edge of the town. No sooner had they done 
 so than the Germans opened on them, and after 
 the first few rounds got the range to perfection. 
 Budworth directed operations from behind a tree 
 close by. The shrapnel burst all about the guns. 
 Of sixteen men serving them seven were hit. Still 
 they replied, keeping hard at it until dusk. The 
 9th Lancers took Merris, though they retired in 
 the evening to the line at Strazeele. 
 
 That night an ambulance arrived to remove the 
 wounded H Battery gunners. Budworth went into a 
 house, the only building in the vicinity that was not 
 on fire, to say good-bye to five of his wounded men 
 before they were taken back. The doctor said one 
 of the five, though a piece of shell had torn away 
 part of his head, would, he thought, pull through 
 safely. Of the recovery of the other four he was 
 very doubtful. Two of them he considered hope- 
 less. One had lost both hands. 
 
 A lump in his throat, Budworth passed from one 
 to another with such words of cheer as he could 
 muster. Each of the four who could speak — the 
 poor fellow whose hands had been shot away was 
 half-unconscious — eagerly pressed upon their chief 
 but one request. Every man was concerned with the 
 paramount idea that he must get fit again as soon 
 as possible and return to duty with his battery. 
 " Promise, sir, that I can come back to H Battery 
 when I am right," was the one thing they had to 
 ask, the one desire of their hearts. Such is the 
 
FALL OF ANTWERP 229 
 
 morale of the men of the Royal Horse Artillery. 
 In spite of the severity of their wounds, each one 
 of the four pulled through, and every man of them 
 lived to see the day when he was back in France 
 and again serving with his beloved battery. 
 
 Early on the morning of Tuesday, the 13th, after 
 a comfortable night in the ample La Motte 
 chateau in the Bois de Nieppe, we ran to Strazeele, 
 then on at noon to Fletre. General Keir was at 
 Strazeele, and his 6th Division, the 16th, 17th and 
 1 8th Brigades, was pushing the German rearguard 
 to the east while the cavalry circled round the left 
 flank of the advance. Gough's Brigades were on 
 the extreme left and swept over the picturesque 
 Mont des Cats, rising like an artificial mound from 
 the level plain and crowned with its quaint mon- 
 astery. Boeschepe and Berthen were in Gough's 
 hands, and his troopers were feeling their way across 
 the frontier line of Belgium. 
 
 Prince Max of Hesse was badly wounded, left 
 behind in a village by his men> and soon died of his 
 wounds. 
 
 The broad road, poplar-lined, that covered the 
 two miles from Fletre to Meteren ran staight as 
 a die. From Fletre, the Meteren church spire 
 marked the exact centre of the end of the path be- 
 tween the tall trees. The infantry attack on 
 Meteren, planned for one o'clock, was delayed until 
 three. By that time a drizzle which had set in early 
 in the afternoon had become a steady downpour. 
 Our headquarters were in an inn bearing the im- 
 posing name of the Estaminet de Rouckelooshile. 
 The dame who dispensed such cheer as could 
 therein be obtained was busy. Black coffee and 
 
230 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 cognac of sorts were not to be despised as the cold 
 mist settled down on the damp countryside. 
 Bustling about, she made no bones of disturbing a 
 conference of general officers, pushing a map away 
 to reach a cupboard as she sought a relay of tum- 
 blers wherewith to meet the exceptional demand. 
 Her shrill voice rose high in an altercation over 
 change of English coin, drowning the low-toned 
 words in an ante-room that were outlining plans of 
 battle. Unconscious of her, the stern group of offi- 
 cers merely raised their voices to carry above the 
 din, thoroughly engrossed in the grim business of 
 war, but no more so than the old virago in her 
 pursuit of nimble coppers. 
 
 Keen to see an infantry charge at close quarters, 
 I walked on towards Meteren. The rifle and ma- 
 chine-gun fire made one long roll ahead. Wounded 
 men passing rearwards in search of a dressing-sta- 
 tion told of a very hell of a hollow where the Ger- 
 man quick-firers swept the ground clean. Our guns 
 had been firing earlier in the day, but the mist closed 
 in and stopped their further participation in the 
 fight. The enemy in Meteren seemed to have no 
 guns. At least no shrapnel came our way. I 
 reached a reserve position as the troops were mov- 
 ing up, the bullets singing overhead in swarms. 
 Rain and mist made it impossible to see far enough 
 ahead to get a view of what was going on, so I 
 ploughed back to headquarters through the mud. 
 
 The enemy had placed machine-guns in the roofs 
 of houses, removing a few tiles to allow just suffi- 
 cient aperture through which to fire. These quick- 
 firers accounted for most of our casualties at 
 Meteren, which totalled some two hundred odd. 
 
FALL OF ANTWERP 231 
 
 The town was taken at the point of the bayonet, 
 and the Germans in the houses captured while still 
 serving the machine-guns. 
 
 Nearing the estaminet I passed a horseman in 
 the dim light whose face gave me a shock. I would 
 have sworn him to be Captain " Rivy " Grenfell, 
 of the 9th Lancers, killed at Vendresse on the 
 Aisne. Involuntarily I gasped out " ' Rivy ' Gren- 
 fell! " A closer look confirmed the uncanny feel- 
 ing that I was faced by a man I knew was in a 
 soldier's grave far to the southward. The uniform 
 was that of a captain, and the regimental insignia 
 of the 9th was plain on the collar of his tunic. 
 
 " Not ' Rivy,' but Grenfell," said a grave but 
 pleasant voice, which went on to explain that the 
 officer I had taken for the gallant captain killed 
 some weeks before was his twin brother, Captain 
 Francis Grenfell, also of the 9th Lancers, who had 
 recovered from the wounds he had received at 
 Audregnies in August, at which time I had had a 
 brief word with him. He had been awarded one of 
 the first V.C.'s of the great war. The likeness be^ 
 tween the two brothers was perfect. I became great 
 friends with Francis Grenfell, whom I was after- 
 wards to see carried back wounded from Messines, 
 again to recover and return to France. Months 
 after that I was to look on his face for the last 
 time as he was prepared for burial after his third 
 wound, a fatal one received while distinguishing 
 himself by gallant work in the trenches of the Ypres 
 salient. 
 
 Fine men of noble character, the Grenfells. 
 Surely the monarch responsible for a war that mows 
 
232 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 down the flower of the world's manhood in the full- 
 ness of its youth must one day answer for his crime, 
 in this world or the next. 
 
 In the farm where we spent the night food was 
 given us which the day before had been ordered. 
 by the Germans. Hardly had the good woman of 
 the house started to comply with the Huns' de- 
 mands when the cry was raised that the British 
 cavalry was approaching, and her enforced guests 
 stood not on the order of their going. 
 
 General de Lisle's Divisional Mess was formed 
 that night. It consisted of the General; Colonel 
 "Sally" Home, of the nth Hussars, G.S.O. i; 
 Major Percy Hambro, of the 15th Hussars, G.S.O. 
 2; Captain Cecil Howard, of the 16th Lancers, G. 
 S.O. 3; Colonel Drake, of the Artillery; Captain 
 ■ - Mouse " Tompkinson, of the Royals, well known 
 as a polo-player and gentleman rider, Assistant 
 Provost Marshal of the Division; "Pat" Arm- 
 strong, of the 10th Hussars, the General's aide-de- 
 camp; and myself. Not long after, the mess was 
 to be enriched by the addition of Captain Hardress 
 Lloyd, of the 4th Dragoon Guards, as aide-de-camp 
 to de Lisle. 
 
 My first job on Wednesday, the 14th, was to 
 take the other Divisional motor-cars in tow and go 
 by road to St. Jan Cappel, towards which the Gen- 
 eral and his staff rode across sodden fields. My 
 road lay over the Mont des Cats and past the for- 
 bidding monastery at its top. I arrived in St. Jan 
 Cappel ahead of the main body of our advance 
 troops. The villagers gave the cars an enthusiastic 
 reception. The German troops after five days' occu- 
 pation, had been driven out an hour before by the 
 
FALL OF ANTWERP 233 
 
 Queen's Bays. The dead German horse in the main 
 street was the only sign of the fray. 
 
 The advance squadrons kept the enemy on the 
 move, headquarters following close behind, and by 
 afternoon we had crossed into Belgium and occu- 
 pied Dranoutre, out of which the 5th Dragoon 
 Guards chased the Germans at midday. As we 
 neared the town a trooper unearthed a handsome 
 Bavarian boy, whose horse having been shot and 
 his knee hurt in falling, had hidden in the cellar of 
 a house near by. He blushed like a girl as he was 
 hauled forth, devoured with disappointment and 
 chagrin at such an unheroic end to his campaigning. 
 
 Headquarters were in a nunnery at Dranoutre, 
 a disspiriting habitation, rendered no more cheer- 
 ful by the cold, sullen rain. 
 
 News of Rawlinson's 4th Corps coming south- 
 west and not far distant led to an evening journey. 
 De Lisle, with " Mouse " Tompkinson, took a run 
 towards Ypres. Past Locre a patrol, aware that 
 he was the " furthest north " of his own command, 
 impressed us that we were on a road " where no 
 English had gone." La Clytte was mysteriously 
 darkened, the inhabitants scurrying off at the slight- 
 est sound. Dickebusch was little better. Germans 
 had been about all day, said one habitant. Had he 
 seen any English troops? Not he. In Voor- 
 mezeele we found the first gleam of intelligible in- 
 formation, and I began to be reassured that the 
 4th Corps was not, after all, a phantom army. De- 
 ciding to draw Kemmel next, we ran as far as 
 Groote Vierstraat, and at last heard British voices 
 in the dark. Prince Alexander of Teck was the 
 
234 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 first officer we met, and he gave us warm welcome. 
 We found General Rawlinson at Wytschaete. 
 
 I chatted with many old acquaintances who had 
 been " chased around the biggest part of Belgium," 
 as one of them put it, with the 7th Division. Evi- 
 dently they could qualify in the severest of tests of 
 pedestrianism. Vague news of heavy German 
 forces heading west was rife. The German army 
 that had faced Antwerp was on the move, and other 
 German troops as well, it was said. The Belgians 
 were badly smashed, as an army, was the general 
 verdict. Thirty to forty thousand of them were 
 between Ypres and the sea, stiffened by some French 
 Territorials. Time, the best judges averred, must 
 be given the Belgians before their recovery could 
 be expected. 
 
 " Big German forces coming west," was the re- 
 current topic. Strange how Dame Rumour and 
 Madame Coincidence take tea together at times. 
 Von Beseler with two or three Corps from Ant- 
 werp was, we found later, marching on Ostend, and 
 that very day passed Bruges. That day or the next 
 four new Corps had left Brussels for Courtrai, and 
 were soon to be distributed on a front from Tour- 
 coing through Menin to Roulers. Looking back, 
 I can remember rumours afoot that night in 
 Wytschaete which forecasted that movement with 
 uncanny accuracy. But G.H.Q. had no information 
 in corroboration of those tales, as was witnessed by 
 Rawlinson's orders four days later to take Menin 
 with his 4th Corps, unsupported. No support was 
 available, for Allenby, Pulteney, and Smith-Dorrien 
 had their hands full, and Haig with his 1st Corps did 
 not disentrain at St. Omer until October 19th. 
 
FALL OF ANTWERP 235 
 
 We returned at a late hour to Dranoutre, where I 
 learned that the 18th Hussars were in Neuve Eglise, 
 Captain Thackwell with C Squadron of that regi- 
 ment having pushed on to Ploegsteert. The next 
 morning I took de Lisle to Neuve Eglise, where the 
 headquarters of the 18th and the 1 ith Hussars were 
 located. 
 
 No word had come from Thackwell. Lieutenant 
 Gore Langton, of the 18th Hussars, at the head of 
 a patrol, passed Nieppe, on the main Bailleul- 
 Armentieres road, and reached Pont de Nieppe, a 
 mile from Armentieres, in the middle of the night. A 
 small road came into the main highway from the 
 north. Along it troops were marching, lighted here 
 and there by flares. A barrier extended half-way 
 across the street. The patrol halted bside it. A 
 trooper dismounted and walked towards the files of 
 soldiers tramping past. " Are you infantry? " he 
 asked of a dark form standing by the barricade. 
 Peering towards him in the drizzle the man he had 
 addressed took a step forward and suddenly ejacu- 
 lated, " Mein Gott, Englisher!" 
 
 It was a German officer ! The passing troops were 
 files of German soldiers bound for Armentieres. 
 
 The trooper threw his rifle forward until the muz- 
 zle almost touched the German's body, and pulled 
 the trigger. An uproar followed. Leaping into the 
 saddle, the trooper and his fellows put spurs in deep 
 and tore back along the roadway for dear life. Ping ! 
 went a bullet beside them. Ping, ping, ping, came 
 others, closer still. One found its mark, and a rider- 
 less horse sped on with the patrol. The scattering 
 shots merged into a fusilade, but the troopers were 
 well away, and not another man received a scratch. 
 
236 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 The flashes of the rifles behind died down. Sparks 
 along the pave told of pursuit. On sped the little 
 band, German cavalry hard on their trail. Through 
 Nieppe they dashed at full speed, then settled down 
 to a steady gallop for Neuve Eglise, where they 
 arrived safely. The Germans kept on until a few 
 miles from the town, at daybreak returning whence 
 they had come. A villager told us that he saw eight 
 hundred of them passing, which gave us the opinion* 
 that their numbers may have been at least one hun- 
 dred, if not two. 
 
 Crowther, a 2nd Brigade motor-cyclist, was dis- 
 patched towards Ploegsteert to find news of Thack- 
 well's squadron. Crowther was a doctor about forty 
 years old, who had been in charge of an asylum in 
 Surrey before the war. A brave chap, very useful 
 as a motor-cyclist dispatch rider. He was instantly 
 killed by a shell a few days later while carrying a 
 message along a road in front of the Ploegsteert 
 Wood. In his quest for Thackwell that morning 
 he rode to the village of Romarin, on the way to 
 Nieppe. As he could see no one of whom to ask a 
 question, he headed his motor-bicycle towards 
 " home," placing it just behind a street barricade, 
 and left its engine running while he started to pull 
 down the barrier. He had worked at the pile of 
 stone and earth but a short time when he descried a 
 trio of German troopers ahead. They had not caught 
 sight of Crowther. One hundred yards away they 
 dismounted, and cautiously crept forward along the 
 walls of the houses, apparently trying to locate the 
 sound of the motor. Crowther jumped on the 
 machine and made off. 
 
 When he returned without news of C Squadron 
 
FALL OF ANTWERP 237 
 
 of the 1 8th, some anxiety was felt for Thackwell, 
 but later in the day news came that he and his squad- 
 ron were safe. He had sent three messages to head- 
 quarters, each carried by a bicycle orderly. The 
 next day we found all three dead along the road. 
 Germans in ambush had shot each one through the 
 head at close range as he passed, and piled man and 
 wheel in the ditch by the roadside. 
 
 Care to stop when challenged by our own sentries 
 at night was impressed upon us by news of a French 
 interpreter attached to one of our Brigades and his 
 chauffeur, who had rushed a sentry and been fired 
 upon the night before. Both Frenchmen were shot 
 through each leg. 
 
 On Friday, the 16th, we ran to Ploegsteert, 
 Messines, and Wytschaete, little dreaming that in 
 scarcely more than a fortnight thousands of men 
 were to be killed or wounded in the defence of the 
 three towns, two of which were to be taken from us 
 by the enemy. The morning was foggy, preventing 
 military operations of much consequence, but in spite 
 of the weather Pulteney's 3rd Corps occupied 
 Armentieres, meeting no serious resistance. 
 
 A Belgian said eight Germans had come to his 
 house at dawn and changed their uniforms for peas- 
 ant garb. Everyone was on the watch for the spies, 
 as the eight uniforms had been discovered and the 
 Belgian's tale corroborated. Howard had news of 
 one of the Germans, tracked him from village to 
 village, and finally caught him. After pretending for 
 some time to be drunk, the spy admitted he was a 
 German soldier, and ended his career against a wall. 
 
 A Belgian farmer came to an officer of the 4th 
 Dragoon Guards and reported that a German soldier 
 
2 3 8 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 was hiding in his cottage. Surrounding the house, 
 the officer and four of his men entered it. A thorough 
 search was made, but no German was found. As 
 they were about to leave, a trooper looked up the 
 chimney of the kitchen fireplace and saw a heavy 
 boot. Strong hands pulled until the boot came down 
 and left a stockinged foot dangling above. Increased 
 efforts were at last crowned with success, and crash 
 came the hidden fugitive into the ashes. After a 
 struggle on the floor, during which each member of 
 the party received his mark of the prowess of the 
 soot-covered captive, superior numbers triumphed. 
 For a moment he lay with eyes closed, breathless, 
 pinned hand and foot. 
 
 " Let old Jack Johnson up," said a trooper as he 
 nursed a bruised eye, " and I'll hit him a crack with 
 the butt if he tries any more of it." 
 
 At the words the prostrate man's eyes opened. He 
 gave a start and yelled, " You bloomin' rotters, I 
 thought you were dirty Deutschers ! Why don't you 
 sing out who you are before you pull a feller's leg 
 off? " Then, catching sight of the officer, " Pawdon, 
 sir, I come in here 'cause I saw some 'Uns comin' 
 up the road. I was out alone and didn't 'ave no rifle, 
 so I 'ooked it and 'id away. 'Ow was I to know, 
 sir, that it wasn't 'Uns as got me? " 
 
 The officer sat down and laughed heartily, while 
 his squad took stock of sundry bruises and a tear 
 here and there in tunic or breeches. "At would have 
 served you right, young feller," growled an old non- 
 com., " if we'd a-knocked in your foolish nut for you, 
 but you did fight like hell." 
 
 From Saturday, October 17th, until the following 
 Wednesday we were hard at work in front of the 
 
FALL OF ANTWERP 239 
 
 Ploegsteert Wood, facing the German position on 
 the Lys. The cavalry fought dismounted, and were 
 not to see warfare of other sort for many and many 
 a long month. First we attempted to force a cross- 
 ing of the river. Unable to do that, we held the 
 enemy's attention on the Lys front while the infantry 
 pressed north from Armentieres on the further bank. 
 Houplines fell to the 3rd Corps, but Frelinghien, the 
 next point to be taken, remained in German hands, in 
 spite of repeated attacks. Once or twice our infantry 
 penetrated the town, but were always compelled to 
 retire to a position in front of it. 
 
 Our cavalry attacks on Saturday and Sunday and 
 the attacks of our infantry on Sunday and Monday 
 were productive of only partial results. Tuesday 
 saw the inception of a German attack on our front, 
 which had been stiffened by the 12th Infantry 
 Brigade. Wednesday found the infantry east of the 
 Lys still hammering in vain at Frelinghien, and the 
 German attacks on the Ploegsteert line west of the 
 Lys increasing in violence. On Wednesday morning 
 the enemy had a decided success at Le Gheer, but 
 the 1 2th Brigade snatched the fruits of victory from 
 them before the day was over. 
 
 Running with the General and Colonel Home 
 early on the morning of the 17th from Ploegsteert to 
 Messines, de Lisle impressed it upon me that he was 
 in a hurry. A sentry not far beyond the Ploegsteert 
 chateau tried to stop us, and was waved aside. He 
 persisted, standing in the centre of the road until the 
 car was almost upon him. At Home's suggestion, 
 the General told me to back to the insistent Tommy, 
 and see if he had any particular reason for his action. 
 When we reached him he said, " Sorry, sir, but I 
 
2 4 o FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 just saw a party of German cavalry in that village 
 down there," pointing to St. Ives, a few hundred 
 yards distant. " Some of them rode out that way, 
 the way you were goin'. I thought you ought to 
 know, sir." How I did bless the lad and his perti- 
 nacious common sense. 
 
 We backed the car around in the lee of a wayside 
 inn, ran to the chateau, and reported the proximity 
 of the enemy patrol to the Colonel of the Essex 
 Regiment, whose men were hard at work digging 
 trenches. 
 
 Our Divisional headquarters moved to Ploegsteert 
 to watch the forcing of the Lys. Briggs's ist Cav- 
 alry Brigade were to cross at Pont Rouge, by Deule- 
 mont and Mullins, who had succeeded de Lisle in 
 the command of the 2nd Cavalry Brigade, had 
 orders to take the bridge at Frelinghien. A patrol 
 of 9th Lancers had visited the Frelinghien bridge the 
 night before. I talked with one of their number, 
 who said they had discovered the enemy well en- 
 trenched to the east of the Lys. " Those bridge- 
 heads will want some taking," said he. A sound 
 prophet. 
 
 On our left Gough was to capture Warneton and 
 win across the river at the eastern edge of the town. 
 
 The panorama of the battle lay before us from the 
 tall tower of the Ploegsteert chateau, high on its hill 
 above the wood. Our field-guns and the few sixty- 
 pounders at our disposal started the ball. Watching 
 their white shell-clouds made me long for a couple of 
 batteries of good big howitzers with plenty of nice 
 fat high-explosive shells. That was the proper medi- 
 cine for Huns entrenched and Huns behind the 
 houses. Care had to be taken with the shrapnel. An 
 
FALL OF ANTWERP 241 
 
 unlimited supply was not at the disposal of the gun- 
 ners. Allen, responsible for the transportation of 
 the ammunition, spent his life in being cursed for the 
 shortage, and cursing in turn his inability to get what 
 he wanted at the base. He wore a haunted look 
 and mumbled things in passing. Was it imagination, 
 or did I hear him mutter, " God knows I don't eat 
 the damn stuff. I give the ungrateful devils all I 
 can get of it." 
 
 The sky was leaden, though the daily drizzle had 
 ceased. The roads were awful. How motor-cyclists 
 stayed on them no one knew. Often enough they 
 failed to do so, but the cheerful dispatch-riders 
 always " showed up smiling " sooner or later, save 
 now and again when one of them " ran into " a shell. 
 Heroic work, that dispatch carrying over roads that 
 never knew complete freedom from shell fire. 
 
 Four German prisoners marched past. An 
 R.A.M.C. man and a bombardier, both unarmed, in 
 some occult manner took the four Bavarians, though 
 each bore a rifle. The two British soldiers came 
 upon the Germans unawares. Beckoning madly as 
 for assistance to imaginary companions behind them, 
 they ran straight toward the badly-rattled quartette, 
 who put hands in air with a will when they saw they 
 had been discovered. Odd little episodes those " all- 
 over-in-a-second " experiences. A quick brain and 
 plenty of nerve worked wonders. Sometimes. The 
 majority of us, however, would generally have 
 " done it infinitely better " if we " had had a bit more 
 time to think." Which, of course, accounted for the 
 success of the flash-in-the-pan minority. Two un- 
 armed men capturing four that were armed was by 
 no means an unparalleled incident. 
 
242 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 The village idiot busied our spy department for an 
 hour or so. His antics were so identically those of 
 the average Hun spy when fate placed him in British 
 hands that the real was definitely established as coun- 
 terfeit. The Ploegsteert padre rescued the unfortu- 
 nate man from our " Sherlock Holmes contingent." 
 
 The net result of the day's fighting was that the 
 Germans were pushed back to the railway that ran 
 alongside the Lys on our side of it. We did not take 
 the bridges. General de Lisle ran in the car to Gen- 
 eral Briggs's headquarters between Le Gheer and 
 Pont Rouge. An hour before, the enemy had been 
 there, and were but five hundred yards in front when 
 we called. Rifle fire was constant. I was unaware 
 of the proximity of the enemy until a horse beside 
 me was struck in the shoulder by a bullet, when I at 
 once assumed a humble attitude in a ditch until the 
 General's departure. At Mullins's headquarters at 
 Le Bizet we were treated to a shelling, so the day 
 was quite sufficiently exciting to suit the most bored 
 of onlookers. 
 
 Towards evening the 12th Infantry Brigade came 
 up from the right and took over part of the line. 
 
 Sunday morning the weather took a slight turn for 
 the better. From our headquarters in the Ploeg- 
 steert chateau we ran to Messines and called on 
 General Gough. His troops had gained a foothold 
 in Warneton. Operation orders directed Gough to 
 watch the point of the advancing German column 
 coming south-east from the Roulers-Coutrai region 
 and give it a check. This advance was reported to 
 have reached America, a village six or seven miles 
 from Messines. Gough was also to operate against 
 the Lys front. 
 
FALL OF ANTWERP 243 
 
 Sydney Green, of the R.A.C. twenty-five, by that 
 time depleted to half that number by sundry resigna- 
 tions, was attached to General Gough's staff. He 
 told me of a visit on the 17th to the east of Ypres. 
 Rawlinson's 4th Corps was in force on the Ypres- 
 Roulers and Ypres-Menin roads, and two Divisions 
 of French Territorials, the 87th and 89th, were be- 
 tween Rawlinson's force and the Belgians on the 
 north. 
 
 While we were discussing the situation in Mes- 
 sines, General d'Urbal's 8th French Army was that 
 day forming on the British left in front of Ypres, to 
 take the responsibility of holding the line from Ypres 
 to Nieuport and the sea. This was to prove no mean 
 task before the German onslaughts on the northern 
 road to Calais were to wear themselves out against 
 the stubborn resistance of the Allied armies. 
 
 The 1 8th of October was the date for Rawlinson 
 to commence his futile movement against Menin, on 
 the second day of which his advance had to be trans- 
 formed into a hurried retirement in front of the 
 onward surge of the German flood that Haig was 
 soon to check so gallantly and with such narrow 
 margin of success in the bloody first battle of Ypres. 
 G.H.Q. was still unaware of the fresh German move- 
 ment west from Brussels, or Rawlinson's attempt on 
 Menin would never have been ordered. 
 
 Ba'ck in Ploegsteert chateau we had sufficient work 
 to keep our minds off operations further eastward. 
 About one o'clock the enemy sent half a dozen shells 
 at the chateau tower. Those who were about the 
 grounds had one or two close calls, though the only 
 damage done save to the turf, was the killing of one 
 of Hardress Lloyd's chargers. 
 
244 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 During the morning the 9th Lancers had attacked 
 in front of Ploegsteert Wood, with the Inniskillings 
 on their right. A Battalion or so of Germans be- 
 hind the railway embankment waited patiently until 
 the 9th line had come within 400 yards, then poured 
 a deadly machine-gun fire into the advancing troop- 
 ers. Francis Grenfell's squadron was in closest 
 proximity to the withering fusilade. He kept his 
 men down, returning the enemy's fire until they ran 
 out of ammunition, and then lying under cover of 
 the rifles of the Inniskillings until our gunfire made 
 retirement possible. Of Grenfell's squadron six were 
 killed and ten wounded. Our total casualties only 
 reached the modest figure of thirty-two, a wonder- 
 fully small number under the circumstances. 
 
 My work for the afternoon included bobbing back 
 and forth from the chateau to 2nd Brigade headquar- 
 ters in front of St. Ives, carrying artillery officers up 
 to see the enemy positions and cavalry officers back 
 to the chateau tower to show the gunners where to 
 drop their shells. Enemy shrapnel splintered the 
 roadway thirty to forty yards from us once, but we 
 came through sound enough. When our observa- 
 tion officers spotted the exact location of the Ger- 
 mans our shells soon found them. The gunwork 
 was exceptionally fine. From the tower I counted 
 shrapnel after shrapnel that burst over the precise 
 spot upon which the guns had been told to direct 
 their fire. 
 
 At daybreak on Monday the guns commenced 
 where they had left off at dusk the night before. 
 German " coal-boxes " were thump-thumping in Le 
 Touquet, a village to the west of the Lys, across 
 from Frelinghien. Le Touquet had been taken by 
 
FALL OF ANTWERP 245 
 
 our infantry after a sharp fight on Sunday afternoon. 
 
 The din of the early morning battle came clearly 
 over the low river-bed as the pressure of our 3rd 
 Corps on Frelinghien increased. No effort was to 
 be spared to take the town. 
 
 Rumours reached us of Rawlinson, fighting hard 
 away to the east. The 2nd Life Guards had been 
 badly knocked about, said someone. 
 
 Our line was never really quiet. Machine-guns 
 rattled away frequently. The noise at Frelinghien 
 overshadowed other operations near at hand, but as 
 the afternoon wore away it died down and left a sea- 
 son of comparative quiet. At twilight Le Touquet 
 was ablaze. The fire lit up the night for miles 
 around. 
 
 Morning brought further entertainment from the 
 gunners. Major Hutchinson, Brigade Major of the 
 1 st Cavalry Brigade, called at the chateau at eight 
 o'clock and pointed out three targets from the tower. 
 A Belgian had told of a farm on our side of the Lys 
 where an enemy howitzer was placed behind a stout 
 stone wall. The exact location of the German 
 trenches along the road from Deulemont to Freling- 
 hien had been learned from another Belgian. An 
 outpost had discovered that two enemy machine- 
 guns were " dug in " in a clump of bushes at the 
 corner of a burned factory on the edge of Le 
 Touquet. All three points were plainly visible from 
 the tower, and soon the fun began. 
 
 A dozen rounds went hurtling towards that part 
 of the sky where once the sun was wont to rise. 
 Wrapped in the contemplation of our own efforts, we 
 forgot for the moment the enemy gunners. At least, 
 two of our officers acted as though they had forgot- 
 
246 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 ten. Not content with the view afforded from the 
 lower tower, where watchers were screened from 
 sight, the two climbed higher. On the small landing 
 at the tower's top they stood, eagerly marking the 
 splendid accuracy of our shells, and incidentally 
 exciting the Bavarian gunners to try their skill at so 
 unusually fine a target. 
 
 Crash ! A hole in the lawn by the chateau. Bang ! 
 An officer's horse hit in the drive. Crash ! A stifling 
 black cloud drifted in the window. A man was 
 brought round the corner of the building with a hole 
 in his back. The headquarters horses scattered this 
 way and that, one on three legs as a red stream 
 poured from his fourth, badly torn by a piece of 
 shell. Bang! Bang! Shrapnel. Then two more. 
 Soon they were coming fast. Crash ! Another high 
 explosive that jarred the whole hillside. 
 
 Hurried preparations were made for the shifting 
 of headquarters. A quartermaster's clerk jostled the 
 mess waiters, who bumped into the hospital orderly 
 in turn. 
 
 I sped down the path to the lodge gates where a 
 woman had essayed that morning to laundry my 
 linen. Our six Divisional motor drivers were 
 bunched by their cars. " What orders? " I queried. 
 " We are told to take the cars out at once," was 
 the reply. " Force the lower gate and go out that 
 way," I advised, and walked towards it with one of 
 the drivers to see if the gate could be opened. We 
 had not taken thirty steps when a smash behind us 
 threw us forwards. A shell had lit by the group we 
 had left, killing three of the drivers and rendering 
 one unconscious from the shock of the concussion. 
 
 As I gathered my damp clothing together and 
 
FALL QF ANTWERP 247 
 
 climbed the path to the chateau, a horse near by, hit 
 by a shrapnel bursting overhead, screamed with pain. 
 Five or six other chargers lay here and there on the 
 turf. Stretcher parties hurriedly gathered the 
 wounded and bore them swiftly down the hill. 
 
 At last the place was cleared of men, horses, and 
 cars. Two of the latter were well marked. A jagged 
 sliver shattered a head-light on my car, and splinters 
 marked one or two of the panels. 
 
 General de Lisle was the last to leave. While 
 waiting for him, Colonel Ludlow, the Divisional 
 A.A.Q.M.G., told me of a visit to the kitchen when 
 the first shell fell. Our mess boasted a chef, a 
 French soldier, among whose experiences was a trip 
 round the world with Madame Melba. The first 
 few shells had come and preparations for departure 
 were proceeding apace. The chef's assistant, Hawes, 
 was hurrying matters, or, at least, advising haste. 
 
 The chef was seated on a chair, his head bent low 
 in earnest preoccupation as he wrestled with a refrac- 
 tory puttee, always somewhat of a trial to his 
 unfamiliar hands. From his lips came calm advice to 
 the impatient Hawes. " Reste tranquil, mon ami" 
 breathed the chef heavily as he began the maddening 
 task for the third time. " Reste tranquil/' As he 
 spoke the last word a big Black Maria went off just 
 outside the kitchen window at his back. 
 
 With one dive he cleared the chair and landed on 
 hands and knees under the kitchen table, ejaculating 
 as he gathered himself together, half-dazed, " Reste 
 tranquil — reste tranquil! " A combined examina- 
 tion by everyone in the vicinity was necessary before 
 the chef could be convinced he was not a dead man, 
 or, at least, well on the way towards becoming one. 
 
248 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 Fortunately for the mess, he had fully recovered by 
 dinner-time, but to arouse his ire for days to come, 
 the servants averred, it was only necessary to mur- 
 mur, " Reste tranquil — reste tranquil." 
 
 An old chateau further from the line and less ex- 
 posed to the eye of the enemy became our headquar- 
 ters. Beside it was a battery of sixty-pounders, the 
 31st Horse Battery of the Royal Garrison Artillery, 
 which rattled the windows with loud volleys, deafen- 
 ing at such close quarters. A cheery grate fire was 
 welcome, as the damp, lowering day grew quite cold. 
 
 At about three o'clock a heavy German attack 
 developed all along the line. The air became 
 charged with the continual crash of a modern battle. 
 Enemy shells, our own guns, rapid-firers and rifles 
 all merged into one melee of sound, utterly beyond 
 the comprehension of one who has never heard It. 
 The Colonel in command of the 12th Brigade sent 
 a message asking for support in front of Ploegsteert, 
 and the nth Hussars were sent to his aid. Ambu- 
 lances streamed back. In one of them I saw Captain 
 Thackwell and Lieutenant Holdsworth, of the 18th 
 Hussars. The 18th had suffered heavily from a 
 fierce onslaught on their left. 
 
 Travelling on the by-roads, deep with mud and as 
 slippery as they could well be, was slow work. On 
 one trip back to headquarters the Queen's Bays 
 passed me at a trot, to dismount not far beyond and 
 go into the line in support of the 2nd Cavalry 
 Brigade, which was in front of St. Ives. 
 
 Grenfell galloped up to where I was stationed and 
 shouted, " Do you know, President, who is on our 
 left?" 
 
 " Tins," I answered, " or at least some of 
 
FALL OF ANTWERP 249 
 
 Goughie's lot." The Tins, as the Life Guards are 
 called, was a composite regiment made up from the 
 1st and 2nd Life Guards. 
 
 Turning, Grenfell said, " Right! I thought so! " 
 Then, anxiously, " You are sure, are you? " 
 
 " Not I. Don't take my word for it. I heard 
 someone say they were there, but it may be wrong. 
 Ask de Lisle. He is along the road a bit." 
 
 Grenfell started towards the General, but a 
 trooper, riding hard, stopped him. With an ex- 
 clamation the Captain tore off at a gallop. 
 
 A moment later I was despatched with a message 
 to the chateau. As I arrived three horsemen pulled 
 up at the door. One of them, a wounded officer, 
 could not dismount without assistance. After he had 
 been taken inside and turned over to the doctor, I 
 said to the sergeant, " Who was that? His face was 
 a strange one to me." 
 
 " Mr. Wallace, of the 2nd Life Guards," was the 
 reply. 
 
 ' Where is your regiment? " I asked. 
 
 " We were just over there a bit," he answered, 
 " but we were driven out. The lot of us were in a 
 proper death-trap." 
 
 When I again reached the General I learned that 
 Grenfell and Colonel Campbell of the 9th had luckily 
 got wind of the retirement of the left of the line in 
 the very nick of time. Throwing a squadron across 
 our left flank and bringing up another in support, 
 they held off the enemy, who were coming straight 
 for a battery under Major Wilfred Jelf, whose left 
 had been completely exposed. 
 
 For an hour or so the fighting raged madly in that 
 sector, but dark came on with the line very little 
 
250 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 changed. Our troops had fallen back from the more 
 exposed low-lying ground to positions prepared for 
 just such an attack. 
 
 At dark Itook Generals de Lisle and Mullins and 
 Colonel Home to the Ploegsteert chateau, out of 
 which we had been shelled that morning. Its devas- 
 tation, soon to be completed, was well begun. By 
 candle-light the damaged walls took odd shapes, and 
 shadows distorted twisted ironwork and ragged shell- 
 holes grotesquely. General Mullins and his staff 
 used the chateau as headquarters that night, but were 
 shelled out of it at daybreak. 
 
 On the way home de Lisle stopped alongside 
 McCarthy's batteries and told the tall Colonel-gun- 
 ner his guns had enabled us to hold our line, which 
 without them we would have lost. Once before, to 
 my knowledge, McCarthy had been given a like 
 message at the close of a hard day's work — at Tour 
 de Paissy, on the Aisne. 
 
 At early light on Wednesday we were off to Mes- 
 sines to see Briggs, then back to Ploegsteert Wood to 
 Mullins. A cold wet night had been followed by 
 a strong attack at dawn on the Ploegsteert position. 
 The Germans succeeded in thrusting a wedge in our 
 front that gave them Le Gheer and a corner of thH 
 Ploegsteert Wood, but before the middle of the fore- 
 noon the Inniskilling Tommies, supported by the 2nd 
 Cavalry Brigade troopers, had driven them back, 
 and, in official parlance, had " straightened the line V 
 
 The sixty-pounders seemed to make more noise as 
 days passed. The headquarters chateau rocked with 
 the din. A great flash, a thin, sickly, brownish- 
 yellow cloud that hung in the damp atmosphere, and 
 a reverberating crash; then as the sound echoed, 
 
FALL OF ANTWERP 251 
 
 leaving ringing ears, the whistle of the big projectile, 
 in pulsating waves, died in the distance as the shell 
 seemed to limp along through the air. 
 
 Before noon word came that the Germans had 
 moved four batteries across the Lys near Warneton 
 and concentrated a large force in front of that town 
 for an attack on Messines. Briggs, with his 1st 
 Brigade, was ready. Mullins and his 2nd Brigade 
 was to be relieved at once and hurried towards Mes- 
 sines as support. At once the guns were turned on 
 the German attacking force and began hammering 
 away with increased vim. It became apparent as the 
 day wore on that they had arrested the threatened 
 advance. 
 
 Fifty-five German prisoners, taken by the Innis- 
 killings at Le Gheer, were marched to our chateau. 
 With them a dozen of our own men were retaken, 
 having been captured when the enemy took Le Gheer 
 at daybreak. The Hun prisoners were Landwehr 
 for the most part, and all Saxons. A few first-line 
 men were among them. They were of all ages, and 
 many wore glasses. A sober, serious group, drawn 
 from a very good class of citizen. One told me in 
 French he had been enlisted eleven weeks, and during 
 the previous seventeen days had marched 250 kilo- 
 metres. Their uniforms were faded and worn. A 
 man of forty, a pair of huge spectacles over sad, 
 patient eyes, seemed so miserable I tried to cheer 
 him with some fatuous remark to the effect that he 
 was safer far in an English prison-camp than in the 
 firing-line. Earnestly he shook his head. " No," 
 he said with unmistakable pain in his voice, " war is 
 hard. I enlisted to fight for the Fatherland, not to 
 be taken by the enemy. Better I had been killed, if 
 
252 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 need be." His face was a picture of real suffering. 
 He believed his cause was just. 
 
 ist Cavalry Division Headquarters slept that 
 night in Neuve Eglise. We said good-bye to Ploeg- 
 steert, save for itinerant calls, and set our faces 
 towards Messines, where grim days awaited us. Be- 
 fore I went early to bed, de Lisle said to me, " Some 
 of the troops that came with the Indian contingent 
 are to join us to-morrow, President. I will load the 
 car with a few of the new officers and take them 
 round where the Black Marias are bursting to 
 acclimatise them." Whereupon I retired to dream 
 of a weird run on some strange planet that seemed 
 one mass of seething flame and smoke. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 A VISIT TO YPRES 
 
 While the fighting at Ploegsteert was growing daily 
 fiercer, the Germans were pressing hard on our lines 
 a few miles away at Messines. 
 
 On Thursday, October 22nd, the whole of the 
 1st Cavalry Division left Ploegsteert to the defence 
 of Wilson's 4th Division. The Cavalry, with the 
 Ferozepore Brigade of the Lahore Division of the 
 Indian Corps in support, was assigned the task of 
 holding the corner of the line that swung round 
 Messines, where every day for a week and a half 
 was sanguinary battle, culminating in the capture by 
 the enemy of the Messines-Wytschaete ridge, and 
 the consequent evacuation of Messines on Novem- 
 ber 1st. 
 
 In ten days of continual fighting against great odds 
 in men and guns, one third of the 1st Cavalry Divis- 
 ion was to fall, and the magnificent qualities of the 
 British Cavalry were to be tried to the utmost. Tried 
 in the fire they were with a vengeance, and never for 
 a moment found wanting. 
 
 The closing days of October were well-nigh the 
 bloodiest the world has ever seen. On the far right 
 of Messines for six days Maud'huy at Arras held off 
 an attack by Von Buelow in the hardest battle fought 
 since the beginning of the war. Smith-Dorrien's 2nd 
 Corps, facing La Bassee, was hurled back by the 
 Bavarians in ten days of awful fighting, but held its 
 
 253 
 
254 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 new line in the face of hammering of a sort of which 
 veterans of Mons and the Aisne had never dreamed. 
 In front of Armentieres and Ploegsteert the Ger- 
 mans threw Battalion after Battalion in overwhelm- 
 ing numbers against our line. To the left of the 
 Messines position Von Beseler and his Antwerp 
 Army, on the coast, all but crumpled up the poor 
 remnants of the Belgians, saved from utter destruc- 
 tion by the guns of British men-of-war, d'Urbal's 8th 
 French Army, and by the flooding of the canalised 
 Yser. To the south of the Belgians at Dixmude, 
 Admiral Ronarc'h and his 8,000 French marines saw 
 fighting that was almost superhuman in its intensity 
 and persistence. The Ypres salient at its northern 
 re-entrant was held by part of Dubois' 9th French 
 Corps, the tale of whose casualties in the combat for 
 Bixschoote ran high. But Ypres, in front and on its 
 right to where de Lisle held Messines, was to see the 
 greatest conflict of all. Haig's 1st Corps, the 7th 
 Division, and the 3rd Cavalry Division were to 
 suffer casualties unheard of in the history of wars. 
 
 Thus the battle of those last October days, over 
 one hundred miles of front, raged with unparalleled 
 violence. One million German troops, well towards 
 half of them of the first line, strove to break the 
 thin ribbon of less than a fifth of their number of the 
 soldiers of France, England, and Belgium co-oper- 
 ating as if units of one army. 
 
 There was heavy fighting all along the line on the 
 22nd. Early that morning Briggs, in Messines, told 
 us of an attack at dawn, vigorously pressed and 
 beaten off with equal vigour. Our line ran well in 
 front of Messines, and the 2nd Cavalry Division 
 took it on north in front of Oosttaverne, past Holle- 
 
A VISIT TO YPRES 255 
 
 beke to Klein Zillebeke. News was brought from 
 Armentieres of an unsuccessful enemy assault on that 
 front, beginning at eleven o'clock the night before, 
 continuing for a couple of hours, to be renewed at 
 dawn. Before night 1,000 dead and wounded Ger- 
 mans lay in front of our line between Le Touquet 
 and St. Ives. 
 
 An estaminet on the road from Wulverghem to 
 Messines, about a mile from the latter town, was 
 chosen as Divisional headquarters. The 1st Con- 
 naught Rangers, part of Egerton's Ferozepore 
 Brigade, were set digging reserve trenches not far 
 from the inn. One of their officers ran to Messines 
 to see the shell-fire, which was fairly hot that morn- 
 ing in the ill-fated town. He saw it. While he was 
 in the square a shell lit on one side of it, killing four 
 troopers of the 1st Cavalry Brigade. I stayed un- 
 der the lee of a house wall near the square while he 
 explored the town. I had no curiosity. 
 
 Coming from Wytschaete I met the first Indian 
 troops I had seen in France. They were Wild's 
 Rifles, North-West Frontier men, fine-looking sol- 
 diers. Their arrival on our front added to a motor 
 driver's trials. 
 
 In Messines in the afternoon shells burst all about. 
 A man who stood boldly in the streets, when cover 
 was conveniently available, was foolish. He was 
 likely to find a shell splinter mixed up with some part 
 of his anatomy as a reminder of the proximity of 
 German howitzers in considerable numbers. Spies 
 were in the town. General Briggs was shelled from 
 three houses in succession, finally repairing to a cellar 
 to obtain peace and quiet. The manner in which the 
 German gunners followed Brigade headquarters 
 
256 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 from one place to another could not have been due 
 to coincidence. 
 
 Towards dusk I had another wait in Messines. I 
 found the few troopers who were not in the trenche°. 
 in front, or in reserve behind, were lying very close. 
 A loose bull and an escaped canary were attracting 
 marked attention. The bull was foraging and the 
 canary apparently trying to find its home, perhaps 
 also in search of food. M. Taurus was obviously ill- 
 tempered, and was given a wide berth. 
 
 The General chose a spot at a corner near a 
 barricade not far from the square, which we con- 
 curred was as good as any other in which to leave 
 the car. Its good fortune during those days in 
 Messines never wavered. Another headquarters v car 
 went by, its occupants continuing to the square, where 
 two minutes later it was put hors de combat by a big 
 shell. The passengers and driver had stepped from 
 it and into safety but a moment before. 
 
 Machine-guns blazed away in front of Messines 
 all the evening. As dark closed in the howitzers 
 scattered huge " coal-boxes " all along the trench 
 front, our guns flashing fitfully in reply. The 2nd 
 Brigade relieved the ist that night. At Gough's 
 headquarters on our way to Neuve Eglise and a 
 night's rest, I heard that during the day the enemy 
 had launched strenuous attacks on FitzClarence's 
 i st Brigade at the extreme left of the British line 
 near Bixschoote, on the 2nd Cavalry Division at 
 Hollebeke and on the 3rd Corps front at Freling- 
 hien. Smith-Dorrien had been fighting hard further 
 south. The German struggle for a road to Calais 
 had begun in earnest. 
 
 The interesting situation in front of Ypres so 
 
A VISIT TO YPRES 257 
 
 over-shadowed all else that I was glad to spend Fri- 
 day, the 23rd, in touring the line. I ran to Ypres 
 by way of Wytschaete and Voormezeele. The roads 
 for the first part of the way were crowded with tall 
 Indians, each group surrounded by its quota of ad- 
 miring Belgians. 
 
 General Haig's and General Rawlinson's head- 
 quarters were in Ypres, and the square by the great 
 Cloth Hall was full of the flotsam and jetsam of 
 armies. The town presented a busy scene. Bulfin 
 was attacking towards Pilkem with considerable suc- 
 cess. Near Langemarck the 1st Division was repell- 
 ing a furious push forward by the enemy, and the 
 7th Division, by that time beginning to feel the strain 
 of continued fighting and heavy casualties, faced a 
 strong assault near Becelaere. Proceeding past 
 Klein Zillebeke to General Makin's 6th Cavalry 
 Brigade headquarters and to General Byng's head- 
 quarters not far beyond, I found the German 
 pressure on the Hollebeke front, which Byng's 3rd 
 Cavalry Division had taken over from Gough, had 
 been so staunchly met the day before that nothing 
 had been heard of it since. 
 
 As I passed Ypres, long lines of French infantry 
 were marching through the streets of the town to 
 the eastward. Splendid troops, the 17th and 18th 
 Divisions of the famous French 9th Corps, they 
 ambled on leisurely to relieve the 2nd Division, so 
 that the hard-pressed 7th Division could in turn be 
 given aid and its front shortened. 
 
 Reports of the operations were so confused and 
 varied that I obtained permission to return to Ypres 
 on Saturday, the 24th. Passing Messines, Mullins 
 said his brigade had repulsed two attempts by the 
 
258 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 enemy to break through to the town, one at seven 
 the night before, and the other at two in the morn- 
 ing. At Haig's headquarters Bulfin's 2nd Brigade 
 success of the day previous was declared to have 
 been splendid. Six hundred German prisoners, a 
 field strewn with 1,500 German dead, and the re- 
 lief of the Cameronians from an isolated position 
 were among the fruits of his victory. Little runs to 
 points of vantage disclosed that the new French 
 troops were advancing on the Roulers road and the 
 7th Division being pushed back, with severe losses, 
 to the west of Becelaere and past the soon-to-be-fa- 
 mous Polygon Wood. Wounded poured along the 
 salient roads in streams. 
 
 Ypres had not echoed to the crash of its first 
 shell. The townsfolk were busy supplying the needs 
 of their martial visitors, little dreaming of the 
 devastation that was soon to visit every home. 
 
 Hardress Lloyd was beside me on our return 
 homeward as we crept through Wytschaete, wind- 
 ing round chaotic Indian transport, then dashed on 
 at a good pace towards Messines. Halfway, I 
 heard a pop ! behind. " Puncture," said Hardress. 
 Pop ! The second sound caused dismay. " Great 
 Scott, another tyre," I groaned, as I released the 
 clutch, and applied the brake. Pop-ping-g-g. Pop- 
 ping-g-g. Punctures, indeed! Punctures of a sin- 
 ister sort. Someone was plugging away at us at 
 close range. The last two bullets came alarmingly 
 near. Pop-ping-g-g ! One went between our heads, 
 close enough to make us feel the swish of it in pass- 
 ing. 
 
 Ducking low we sped on. A dozen more bullets 
 came over us, but in a few seconds we were out of 
 
A VISIT TO YPRES 259 
 
 range unharmed. Still speeding, we discussed 
 the situation, which had its alarming features. The 
 shots had undeniably come from our right. The 
 Germans were on our left and a line of our trenches 
 in between. Could the enemy have won the 
 trenches and got over the road? If so, we were 
 properly " done." 
 
 "Are you sure you are heading for Messines?" 
 asked Lloyd. " You don't suppose you are on the 
 Warneton road by mistake? " 
 
 " Road is right," I answered. " For that mat- 
 ter there is the Messines church tower ahead. 
 Maybe the Huns have taken Messines." 
 
 " If so, we will know it soon enough," and 
 Hardress grinned. 
 
 We were certain Messines could not have fallen 
 and we not heard of it, but there was the disquiet- 
 ing fact that rifle-fire had come from the west of 
 the road. Consequently, it was with some relief 
 that we drew near the barricade in the edge of the 
 town and saw a khaki-clad figure beside it. 
 
 " Fresh Indian patrol, probably," laughed an of- 
 ficer from whom we invited a solution of the puz- 
 zle. " Took Hardress for a German, perhaps, 
 from the red band on his cap. Seems their mark- 
 manship has gone off, though, since I knew the Pun- 
 jabis. I don't quite see why they didn't get one of 
 you." 
 
 We left this comforting person to his regrets at 
 the deterioration of the Indian markmanship, thank- 
 ful to be whole of skin. 
 
 By Sunday, the 25th, Briggs was again in Mes- 
 sines and Mullins in support. Sullen days had been 
 succeeded by a morning of bright sunshine. A 
 
26o FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 pleasant breeze drove white clouds across a sky of 
 pale turquoise. Before night the clerk of the 
 weather had regretted this lapse. Rain was 
 descending in torrents, promising an unpleasant 
 night in the trenches, particularly for the Indians, 
 who felt the chill damp of Flanders keenly. Casual 
 fighting was the order of the day, no great change 
 taking place for better or for worse. 
 
 On Monday Wytschaete was given its baptism of 
 German shell-fire. We passed through not many 
 minutes after. The roads near at hand were lined 
 with fleeing inhabitants. Four or five shells had 
 come into the town, killing a four-year old child and 
 wounding Colonel Grey of the 57th Wild's Rifles. 
 
 I saw Captain Sadleir-Jackson of the 9th Lancers, 
 signals officer of the Cavalry Corps, in Messines. 
 He had endeavoured to utilise a quantity of fine 
 German field telegraph wire. His men had run it 
 through the square at Messines. Four times that 
 morning zealous individuals had cut it, thinking it 
 an enemy line. He had it put up for a last time, 
 but had no better luck. In an hour a passing trooper 
 had severed it at some point, and Jackson gave it 
 up as a bad job. 
 
 That afternoon at three o'clock a big forward 
 movement along the whole line was ordered. We 
 were the pivot at Messines, and were to hold the 
 trenches with Briggs' Brigade and the Inniskillings. 
 Gough's 2nd Cavalry Division with the 129th 
 Beloochis at his disposal, and the 57th Wild's Rifles 
 and Connaught Rangers in support, were on our 
 left. Houthem, two miles and a-half east of Oost- 
 taverne, was Gough's first objective. Byng's 3rd 
 Cavalry was to push south-east from Hollebeke and 
 
A VISIT TO YPRES 261 
 
 reach Kortewilde, just north of Houthem. The 
 orders of the 7th Division, next to the left, directed 
 their advance to the tenth kilometre stone on the 
 Ypres-Menin road. Kruiseik, well in front of 
 Gheluvelt, was the village they were asked to reach. 
 Still further left, Haig's 1st Corps were to win 
 Becelaere, after dislodging the enemy from the edge 
 of the Polygon Wood. 
 
 Had that advance succeeded as planned, a great 
 change would have been made in the line. 
 
 The atmosphere was charged with tense anxiety. 
 Eagerly we awaited news of the progress of the 
 work as the afternoon wore away. From the fail- 
 ure of the line to advance on our immediate left, 
 we knew something had gone awry; but not until 
 the following day did we learn that from daybreak 
 until noon the enemy had struck blow on blow at 
 the 7th Division front near Kruiseik. All that saved 
 Zandvoorde and a bad hole in the line was a bril- 
 liant counter-attack by the 7th Cavalry Brigade. 
 
 Advance against such overwhelming odds was 
 futile. The Hun was hammering for a pathway to 
 the Channel forts, and for the next three days we 
 had no thought, on our front, save that of holding 
 the line against his threatened onslaughts. No day 
 was free from fighting on some sector of the front, 
 but not until the 29th did the full fury of the storm 
 break on the Ypres salient. 
 
 On the 30th it was to spread to_Messines. For 
 seventy-two hours from the bursting of that tempest 
 of mad fury, we lost all thought of operations on 
 other battlefields. Each hour brought carnage and 
 death; each minute was pregnant with action. All 
 that could be done was hold the line intact, and that 
 
262 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 at times seemed well-nigh impossible, but never 
 hopeless. 
 
 So the intervening days, viewed in the fierce light 
 of that after-period of gigantic conflict, seemed 
 tame indeed. Yet each bore its story. 
 
 Messines was becoming a death-trap. Sheels had 
 fallen in every quarter of the town, which had been 
 cleared of inhabitants. One resident told me the 
 village had surfeit of wars in bygone days, and was 
 razed to the ground once in the eleventh century 
 and again in the seventeenth. Its demolition in the 
 twentieth bid fair to eclipse its former woes. 
 
 While waiting in Messines for de Lisle, who 
 visited the town many times each day, I became 
 quite accustomed to hot pieces of projectile falling 
 within reach, and black, pungent shell-clouds drift- 
 ing over and around me from the near-by explosion 
 of a Black Maria. Experiences one afterwards 
 deems narrow escapes are ludicrously plentiful in 
 a town continually under bombardment. I have 
 ducked nimbly round a corner to a doorway grown 
 familiar as a shelter, and left intact but half-an- 
 hour before, to find it choked with debris from the 
 chaotic mass of wood and plaster to which a 
 howitzer shell had reduced the interior of the dwell- 
 ing. A walk across the square was never a leisurely 
 procedure after I had seen a couple of shells light 
 in it. But in reality no surer road to fatalism exists 
 than work in such surroundings. The futility of 
 haste or loitering is demonstrated a hundred times 
 each day. A power far more potent than mere hu- 
 man gunners and the engines of their ingenuity 
 guides shells. 'Tis just as well to leave it to Him. 
 
 A deep approach trench in front of Messines ena- 
 
A VISIT TO YPRES 263 
 
 bled the change of troops in the front line to be 
 effected with but very few casualties. The garret 
 of a house at the outer edge of the town, close to the 
 end of the approach trench, was used as an ob- 
 servation station for our gunners. I spent some 
 time there, standing well back from the little gable 
 window to escape the watchful eyes of the enemy. 
 From the window I could see our own trenches, and 
 the German ones not far beyond. Shells often came 
 near, once setting the next house alight. One 
 evening General Briggs was in the garret when a 
 shrapnel came through it, passing both walls and 
 entering the adjacent house before it exploded. He 
 left the building, which was hit by eight shells in 
 that many minutes, the first one coming as he 
 walked out of the door. 
 
 On Monday afternoon German shells, which for 
 days had battered the great square tower of Mes- 
 sines' eleventh-century church, fired the ancient pile. 
 The eastern sky grew ominously black. The red 
 flames licking at the roof were pictured fantastically 
 against the sombre background. White smoke 
 poured upward as the conflagration grew, a study 
 for an artist. 
 
 In the trenches in front of Wytschaete that night, 
 a farm on fire near by, the great Messines church 
 blazing hard in the darkness, bursting German 
 howitzer shells lighting up the line, and the sud- 
 den flash of our batteries behind us made a pyro- 
 technic display of unequalled magnificence. 
 
 A couple of days later I accompanied Generals de 
 Lisle and Briggs to the ruins of the church and the 
 adjoining convent. 
 
 Inside the doorway the bare, unroofed walls rose 
 
264 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 to a grey sky. The masonry and stone of the sturdy 
 tower had withstood the storm of shell and the fiery 
 ordeal it brought. At the far end, under the noble 
 blackened arch, a heap of debris marked where the 
 altar had been. The devastating conflagration had 
 devoured all save the walls of stone, except one 
 figure which the fingers of the fire had left strangely 
 untouched. 
 
 On the facia of a column under the tower hung 
 a life-size Christ on the Cross. But for a small hole 
 in the side, made by a falling bit of masonry, it 
 remained intact, unharmed. No single object in 
 the ruins existed in its normal form save that figure. 
 
 A few townsfolk, allowed an hour in the town 
 to collect belongings, stopped in the doorway. 
 Their curious eyes were caught and held in awed 
 homage. One group of garrulous women, chatter- 
 ing like magpies, stopped transfixed, on reaching the 
 door, their voices hushed. Crossing themselves, 
 they drew away whispering. 
 
 Major Hutchinson told us he stood as near the 
 doorway as possible on the night of the fire. The 
 interior was a seething mass. Shading his eyes with 
 a bit of tin, he could see the figure of some saint of 
 the church on the opposite facia, wrapped in smoke 
 and flame, already almost indistinguishable. Across 
 the floor, isolated on the bleak wall, the Christ on 
 the Cross stood out in the clear light of the blazing 
 fixtures that surrounded it, as if set aside by some 
 hand that guided the tongues of flame away from it. 
 
 " Weird," the Major characterised it. 
 
 As I was standing in the doorway, knots of troop- 
 ers, having heard the story, gathered to the ruins 
 of the ancient church. 
 
A VISIT TO YPRES 265 
 
 Pausing on the threshold, peering under the high, 
 blackened stone arch above, each eye was raised to 
 that commanding figure. 
 
 For a brief moment in the midst of turmoil, death 
 and battle, many a mind was focussed, all-devout, 
 on one great thought. 
 
 I saw more than one soldier, his head bared in 
 respectful silence before that fire-spared crucifix, 
 who plainly felt the Mighty Presence of the King 
 of Hosts and Lord of Battles, whose cause, the tri- 
 umph of the Right, was that for which he fought. 
 
 A major of Connaught Rangers reported after 
 his initial experience in the front line the night be- 
 fore that his men had taken three lines of German 
 trenches. His report attracted immediate attention. 
 Questioned, he said: "The enemy had gone back 
 before we arrived. The first line we got to was 
 only waist deep. The second we fairly walked into. 
 I noticed a funny thing about that line. The beg- 
 gars had dug the trench just in front of a barbed 
 wire fence. We had to cut through it. Devil of 
 a job, too. The next line we had a bother with. 
 Lot of sniping, though they got out of it as we came 
 in. I didn't hold on to it; but went back into the 
 second line, as it was a better position." 
 
 I listened attentively, wondering. Walking into 
 abandoned German trenches sounded too good to 
 be true. De Lisle said little, but grunted once or 
 twice. Later developments led me to characterise 
 the sound as a snort. Days later, I heard the cor- 
 rect version of the incident. The Connaught Ran- 
 gers, in " taking over " had found three trenches 
 not long vacated by the Tins. In his occupation of 
 
266 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 them the inexperienced major had cut up a most 
 carefully arranged reserve wire entanglement. Just 
 sufficient sniping had come his way to make him 
 think the enemy were in the fore trench — a not un- 
 natural error in the dark. The yarn went the 
 rounds, gathering detail, until it assumed unique 
 proportions, but it served to raise many a laugh 
 where there was little enough over which to make 
 merry. 
 
 A major of the Queen's Bays, in the trenches be- 
 fore daylight one morning, heard a party of Ger- 
 mans approaching. " Come here ! " called out a 
 voice from in front. " Come over here ! " 
 
 " Hands up," responded a trooper though little 
 could be seen in the darkness. 
 
 " Send on one man," was the shouted suggestion 
 of another Dragoon Guardsman. 
 
 Unintelligible words were mumbled in reply. 
 Curious, the major raised his head and looked over 
 the trench parapet. A volley at close range missed 
 him, and our men pumped bullets into the adven- 
 turous Huns in quick time. When day broke half 
 a dozen Germans lay dead a few yards in front in 
 witness to the accuracy of our fire. 
 
 The 2nd Cavalry Brigade was sent south to 
 Smith-Dorrien on the 26th. The next day I ran de 
 Lisle to Smith-Dorrien' s headquarters at Hinges, 
 behind the La Bassee line. On the 28th the newly^ 
 arrived Indian contingent attempted the capture of 
 Neuve Chapelle, which had been taken by the enemy 
 the day before. The Indians faced German shells 
 for the first time. The 2nd Cavalry Brigade was in 
 support. The 47th Sikhs bore the brunt of the 
 work. The 9th Bhopal Infantry was in the fight, 
 
A VISIT TO YPRES 267 
 
 and two companies of the Indian sappers and 
 miners. 
 
 The Sikhs charged magnificently. They got into 
 the town, and the houses were the scenes of many a 
 hand-to-hand fight. One big Sikh brought back 
 three prisoners. He had cornered eight Germans 
 in a room, he said, and went for them with the cold 
 steel. Five of the enemy he killed outright. Asked 
 why he stopped, he naively explained that his arm 
 had tired, so he spared the remaining three and 
 brought them back as evidence of his prowess. 
 
 Close-quarter fighting and individual conflicts in 
 the buildings of the town scattered the Sikhs. Soon 
 the Germans brought a couple of machine-guns into 
 play at the end of a street, mowing down the big 
 black fellows in squads as they came within range. 
 Their officers were down, save one or two. No 
 cohesive body could be formed to take the quick- 
 firers, so back the Sikhs came, straggling and de- 
 moralised, the effect of their splendid charge largely 
 nullified by their inexperience of this kind of war- 
 fare. Howitzer shells fell by the hundred. The 
 2nd Cavalry Brigade were sent into the scrimmage 
 and fought hard till nightfall. They were relieved 
 at daybreak next morning Neuve Chapelle had been 
 taken, lost, retaken and lost again. When night 
 closed in the Germans were in possession of the 
 greater part of the town. The cavalry suffered 
 seventy casualties, a light list for that part of the 
 world in those days. 
 
 Many of the 2nd Corps regiments on that front 
 had lost all but a couple of hundred out of a full 
 thousand. Men of that command had been four- 
 teen days and fourteen nights in the trenches with- 
 
268 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 out respite, but the line had held, and the arrival 
 of the Indians had greatly relieved the situation. 
 
 The enemy's plan of attack on the long front 
 from Arras to the sea never varied. His guns 
 shelled hard, preparing the way for his infantry, 
 massed, often deeply, on a narrow front. Battal- 
 ion came behind Battalion, regiment behind regi- 
 ment. The foremost body repulsed, the reserve 
 stepped into the breach and continued the attack. 
 Should the first onslaught prove successful, and a 
 foothold be gained, reserves were brought up with- 
 out delay to hold, and, if possible, widen the breach 
 in the line. 
 
 Hurling back the initial attack and pounding to 
 atoms each front line that pressed on was of vital 
 importance in those tense days. Every foothold had 
 to be torn loose, no matter what the bloody cost. 
 Easier far to expend at first that strength which lay 
 beyond what man had learned to term the limit of 
 human endurance. No limit bounded the endurance 
 and effect of the British soldier save death itself. 
 The impossible was achieved so often in front of 
 Ypres that its performance ceased to cause wonder, 
 and hardly attracted attention. 
 
 Fighting became mechanical. Men lost their iden- 
 tity as men. Rank assumed less importance. Each 
 atom fought, and fought, and fought, until to fight 
 became as natural to the savaged Tommy as breath- 
 ing. No explanation will ever be forthcoming as 
 to why the Germans did not win through to Ypres. 
 Time after time they won a hole in the line, blocked 
 by no reserves, because there were none. Com- 
 panies faced Brigades of the advancing enemy, and 
 somehow held them off. Never had so much kill- 
 
A VISIT TO YPRES 269 
 
 ing been done. The dead seemed to outnumber the 
 living at times. Yet the line held, in some way. It 
 was beyond comprehension. 
 
 The Menin road and Gheluvelt, on the 29th, was 
 the scene of an all-day battle, to be renewed at 
 daybreak on the 30th. The storm centre drifted 
 our way. Gough was driven out of Hollebeke. 
 De Lisle sent the 4th Dragoon Guards and 18th 
 Hussars to Wytschaete to aid Gough, if he found 
 help necessary to hold the new position in front of 
 St. Eloi, to which he had fallen back. The day 
 was big with action all along the line. Reports 
 came of stubborn resistance by the 7th Division at 
 Gheluvelt, costly to us and trebly so to the enemy. 
 New German units had been brought up, and the 
 Kaiser was with them, we heard. 
 
 I noted a score of wounded Wild's Rifles, almost 
 to a man shot in the left hand or arm. One of 
 their officers told me this was due to the peculiar 
 way the Indians shield their head with the left arm 
 when firing. The Beloochis got home with the bay- 
 onet one morning, inflicting frightful execution and 
 repelling a determined attack. 
 
 A message came from the nth Brigade at St. 
 Ives that the enemy was advancing in great num- 
 bers. The nth line was broken that day, to be 
 made good by the Somersets. With Gough on our 
 left in need of reinforcements and Wilson's 4th 
 Division on our right barely able to hold its own, 
 the 1st Cavalry Division was faced with a grave 
 situation at Messines, where showers of howitzer 
 shells were followed by massed attacks hourly in- 
 creasing in intensity. 
 
 Saturday, October 31st, was not two hours old 
 
270 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 when the German bugles were heard in a dozen 
 places in front of the Messines line. Lanterns could 
 be seen darting back and forth like glow-worms 
 in the black night. Shouted orders were borne on 
 the wind to the British trenches. The rythmical 
 cadence of German soldiers' voices in loud march- 
 ing chorus told of singing columns moving forward 
 to the attack. 
 
 The 9th Lancers were in the front trench. On 
 their left were two short trenches facing the left 
 front and left flank, occupied by the 5th Dragoon 
 Guards. On the right of the 9th the trench line 
 continued in a gradual curve to the southward, the 
 57th Wild's Rifles holding that section of the line. 
 
 The enemy reached the Indians before daybreak, 
 pouring over their front like a flood, and driving 
 the 57th back into the town in some confusion. 
 Messines had been shelled all night long.* Driven 
 from their position by overwhelming hordes of sing- 
 ing Huns, whose ranks, mowed down, filled up with 
 numberless others from the blackness beyond, the 
 poor Indians found the path of their retirement led 
 straight into an inferno of scattering earthquakes 
 that spread death over the whole district like a 
 mantle. The blinding flash and nerve-shattering 
 roar of the big howitzer shells, ever punctuated by 
 the dozens of wicked whirring shrapnel that 
 searched every quarter of the town, might well have 
 demoralised troops of much more experience of the 
 new gun-cult of modern warfare. 
 
 In support of that part of the line was a reserve 
 company of the 57th and a squadron of the 5th 
 Dragoon Guards. These two contingents went into 
 
A VISIT TO YPRES 271 
 
 the Germans with the bayonet most gallantly, but 
 were hurled back by overpowering numbers. 
 
 Every European officer of the Wild's Rifles was 
 killed, making a rally of that regiment impossible. 
 
 Also before dawn a column overran the 5th 
 Dragoon Guards' position on the left. There pile 
 on pile of German dead blocked the way of those 
 who followed after, never wavering until the 
 trenches were won and the gallant regiment forced 
 back inch by inch, dealing death at every step. 
 
 The 9th Lancers beat off the first attack on its 
 front. As the night began to pale the German bu- 
 gles were sounding and their lanterns flashing be- 
 hind the 9th and towards the town on both right 
 and left. With the first streaks of dull light began 
 a fight on three sides of a square that was to cost 
 the Germans dear. On came the enemy, steady as 
 if on parade, a maxim at each end of the advanc- 
 ing grey line belching forth a stream of fire at every 
 few yards. Every man in the 9th — cool as a cu- 
 cumber and full of that glorious pride of regiment 
 that makes the super-soldier — fired shot after shot 
 into the oncoming mass, every bullet bringing down 
 its mark. Once the pressure on a flank uncovered 
 the end of the trench, but the enemy's brief advan- 
 tage was won back by a hand-to-hand struggle. 
 
 Then the shells came. The air was one mass of 
 rending flashes. Shock succeeded shock, and deadly 
 missiles fell like hail — so fast and thick no living 
 thing could remain long untouched beneath the tor- 
 rent of metal that sprayed over the trenches. 
 
 Back came the 9th, firing as they retreated. 
 Shrapnel followed them every inch of the way. The 
 enemy's gunners never showed better markmanship. 
 
272 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 At the edge of Messines, Francis Grenfell turned, 
 and with some of his squadron started back down 
 the approach trench. One trooper who went with 
 him said to me an hour later, " I didn't know where 
 the Captain was going, but he said, 'Come on.' 
 It looked to me as if he was starting off to take 
 the bally trenches back with a blommin' pistol." 
 Grenfell had noticed the enemy were not advancing, 
 and had heard a storm of fire from the trench 
 ahead. He knew someone had been left behind and 
 was still fighting hard, so back he went to get into 
 the fight. 
 
 He found the lost trench momentarily re-won A 
 corporal in charge of one of the 9th machine-guns 
 had placed a low bush above it to hide its position. 
 When the regiment was ordered to retire by Colonel 
 Campbell, the corporal had stayed in the trench by 
 his gun. Waiting until the Germans were almost 
 upon him — until some, indeed, were climbing the 
 parapet not far on his left and piling into the trench 
 — he loosed off his deadly quick-firer. He poured 
 a thousand rounds into the enemy at such close 
 range the execution was beyond realisation. Men 
 were mowed down like grass. The surprise of the 
 manoeuvre added to its effectiveness. Leaping back 
 out of the death trap the Germans rushed rearward 
 in a close crowd for cover, the machine-gun in the 
 corporal's deft hands playing on them as they ran. 
 
 By the time Grenfell reached the trench the Ger- 
 mans had peppered the corporal and his bit of ord- 
 nance until the gun was pierced with a dozen 
 Mauser bullets, six or eight of which had punctured 
 its water jacket and rendered it useless. Not long 
 afterwards the corporal passed me outside Mes- 
 
A VISIT TO YPRES 273 
 
 sines. He was carrying the tripod of his abandoned 
 gun and almost wept as he spoke of having to leave 
 it, useless, behind him and in the hands of the ad- 
 jectived Germans, who had again come on in force 
 to the trench, not to be denied by the few of the 
 9th who were left to face them. The corporal was 
 subsequently awarded a well-deserved V.C. 
 
 De Lisle was worried. He left headquarters for 
 Messines that morning at an early hour. On the 
 way he called on General Hunter Weston, of the 
 nth Brigade, at Ploegsteert. Weston ordered two 
 companies of Inniskilling Fusiliers to be so placed 
 at once that his line would extend its left to near 
 Messines. This gave de Lisle his own Division and 
 four Battalions of 2nd Corps troops that arrived in 
 Neuve Eglise during the night for the defence of the 
 town and that part of the Messines-Wytschaete ridge 
 which our line covered. 
 
 Reinforcements, without which the line could not 
 be held much longer, were coming. Second Corps 
 troops from the south and the French 16th Corps 
 from the north, with Conneau's French cavalry as 
 well, were on the way. The need was sore, and their 
 prompt arrival a matter of more than life or death. 
 
 As we sped on from Ploegsteert, we tarried a 
 moment by McCarthy and his guns. He nodded his 
 grizzled head when asked to help. McCarthys were 
 rare in any army. Oh for a dozen of him in that war 
 of guns ! 
 
 As we came in sight of Messines, smoke-clouds 
 rose from every quarter of the town. A dozen 
 houses were ablaze, the flames leaping high in the 
 light breeze. 
 
 Swinging up to our reserve trenches, narrow, deep, 
 
274 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 and so placed as to be well concealed, turbanned 
 heads peeped above the level "of the unharvested 
 beet-field, for all the world like khaki cabbages in 
 a row. 
 
 Straggling Indians were all along the road, many 
 of them wounded. At one point a profession of the 
 poor fellows were rapidly filling a convoy of horse 
 ambulances gathered at the roadside. A big Pun- 
 jabi, covered in blood, came up, pale and tottering, 
 supported by a comrade. Most of the wounds were 
 in head or arm, allowing the men to navigate rear- 
 wards under their own power. One passed, insensi- 
 ble, borne on a door by four of his fellows. The 
 next was in a motor-car, half lying on the front seat, 
 huddled with pain, a blanket between his set teeth : a 
 brave chap, horribly wounded, but holding on with 
 sublime courage and never a groan to tell of his 
 awful agony. Many a hero tramped by among those 
 black soldiers of the King so far from their own land. 
 Their stretcher-bearers, with their incessant gabble, 
 gabble, gabble, sounding like a flock of excited tur- 
 keys, did yeoman work in their own Oriental way. 
 
 As we entered the town, a German war balloon 
 loomed high in the near distance, a line of gaily 
 coloured flag-signals suspended from it. 
 
 The black cross showed clear from the under wing 
 of a German aeroplane droning above. 
 
 I saw Basil Blackwood, attached to the 9th Lan- 
 cers, taken past, shot through the shoulder. Francis 
 Grenfell, an ugly bullet-hole in his thigh, was also 
 sent back. The 9th had suffered heavily. Seventy- 
 five per cent, of their officers and a third of their 
 men had been hit that morning. 
 
A VISIT TO YPRES 275 
 
 A moment in the edge of Messines^ where the 
 fighting had reached the ^barricades at the eastern 
 edge of the town, and we were speeding back to our 
 own headquarters inn a mile behind. 
 
 A squadron of the Oxfordshire Yeomanry arrived 
 that morning, and went up towards the front, a splen- 
 did looking lot. They were to take their places in 
 action with the finest cavalry in the world, and to 
 make a record of which the oldest veterans would be 
 proud. 
 
 Coal-boxes began to search the country round 
 more persistently. A dozen dropped on a ridge not 
 far on the right of our estaminet. They were feeling 
 for McCarthy's guns, and coming close to him at 
 times. As I was watching the ridge I saw a wagon, 
 loaded full of men, women, and children, leave a 
 spacious farm and start for the rear. A sharp flash, 
 a great black column rising, rising, and the double 
 rumph-rumph of the howitzer shell, told of a hit in 
 the road in front of the fleeing farm folk. Two sec- 
 onds later another flash, again the mounting, twist- 
 ing column of black, right over the wagon. Out 
 from the shell-cloud galloped a horse. One or two 
 scurrying forms dashed from the lane, and scattered 
 like frightened rabbits over the fields. I turned from 
 the sight with a shudder. 
 
 Clatter, clatter over the cobbles, the remainder of 
 the Oxfordshire Hussars went up at a trot. 
 
 A dirty, cheery, devil-may-care motor-cyclist 
 pulled up with a message from Briggs's headquar- 
 ters in the burning town. 
 
 " How is it up there? " 
 
 " Absolutely bloody." 
 
 But the Germans had not won the town. They 
 
276 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 were in an edge of it, but there they stuck, every 
 sally thrown back at heavy cost. Every minute the 
 firing grew heavier. More shells rained on the 
 blazing buildings. The rattle of small arms rose to 
 a high continuous note and hung, piercing the boom- 
 ing din of the howitzers and the racking fury of their 
 bursting shells. At times the " coal-boxes " burst 
 so fast, it seemed a fierce thunder-clap had spread 
 itself over minutes which imagination lengthened into 
 miniature ages of nerve-tension. 
 
 " Looks up there as though most everyone is hit 
 or scratched," said the cyclist as he started back. 
 " Absolutely bloody, that damned Messines. So 
 long! " A grin, a nod, and off he dashed, straight 
 into the thick of it. 
 
 Ambulances full of wounded wheeled slowly back 
 to Wulverghem, dumped their shattered freight at 
 the dressing-station, and returned at a trot into the 
 zone of shell-fire. 
 
 A couple of wounded troopers bumped and 
 jolted about on a bundle of straw in the narrow box 
 of an empty limber that rattled rearwards for a fresh 
 supply of ammunition. An officer came slowly down 
 the road, supported by his subaltern. He was shot 
 through the shoulder. " Only a scratch,' he said, 
 with an attempt at a smile as he staggered on. 
 
 News reached us from Weston's headquarters of 
 Germans massing in front of Frelinghien and Le 
 Touquet for an attack in force. Too much was going 
 on in Messines to allow even a passing thought of 
 what might transpire elsewhere. 
 
 Two armoured cars, attached to the Oxfordshires, 
 moved up, to retire discreetly shortly afterwards. 
 Messines was no place for an armoured car. A 
 
A VISIT TO YPRES 277 
 
 healthy, full-grown Black Maria would scatter one 
 to the four winds. 
 
 By ten o'clock the six-inch howitzers went slowly 
 back, their attendant transport wagons following 
 soberly. A couple of days before those howitzers 
 had come up fresh from the base, the gunners eager 
 to " get into it." The change in their position to the 
 region of the Kemmel road meant that the enemy 
 had come too close for the sixes to be used effectively. 
 
 The 9th Lancers filled the trenches of the reserve 
 line not many yards in front of headquarters. If we 
 fell back from Messines those trenches would mark 
 the new line. 
 
 A hurried dash to Messines and back in the car 
 was found to be unwise, and a stop was ordered at 
 the bottom of the hill leading into the town. Bullets 
 were singing overhead. The struggle for each street 
 was a battle in itself. 
 
 Colonel Ludlow drove up. Two Battalions of 
 Worcesters were in Neuve Eglise, he said, and the 
 Scots Fusiliers, Northumberland Fusiliers and Lin- 
 colns had pushed on half an hour before for Kemmel. 
 Good news that. Seventh Brigade and 9th Brigade 
 troops of the well-tried 3rd Division. Reinforce- 
 ments from Smith-Dorrien's hardened lot, well 
 worth having, every man of them. 
 
 I chatted with Colonel Campbell and Major Beale- 
 Browne of the 9th for a few minutes, then strolled 
 back towards the headquarters estaminet. By dint 
 of great persuasion we had induced the proprietress 
 to send away her four-year-old daughter in charge of 
 an elder sister that morning. The woman herself, 
 her husband, and a girl of sixteen remained, though 
 repeatedly advised to take up safer quarters. 
 
278 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 I passed Pat Armstrong in the road. " Yhere 
 away- " he queried. " Only to the car to sit and 
 scribble," I replied. 
 
 The car stood by the inn. 
 
 " Bang! " went a Black Maria sixty yards from us. 
 General de Lisle was in the roadway. " How far 
 from us was that one ? " he asked. Pat and I turned 
 to him to reply, both laughing as each paused, wait- 
 ing to criticise the other's estimate. 
 
 Before the answer, a crash that beggars descrip- 
 tion came without warning, sudden as a thunderbolt. 
 A howitzer shell had struck the house fifteen to 
 eighteen feet from where we were standing. 
 
 I distinctly felt the shock of the concussion. 
 Others by me did so and others, even closer, said 
 they felt no shock. 
 
 My head was driven violently downwards. 
 
 I jumped the roadside ditch as I recovered my 
 balance and ran for the shelter of a haystack a few 
 yards away. I think my idea was to avoid a possible 
 second shell. I hardly knew what had happened. 
 My chin was bleeding, grazed by some flying bit. 
 The air was choked with dust and debris. A black, 
 stinking pall hung over the estaminet, a farm across 
 the road, and all between. 
 
 Yomen's screams came shrill and high from the 
 thick bank of smoke. I could not, at first, see the 
 outline of the inn or what, if anything, remained of 
 it. No voices could be heard for a second or two, 
 save the heartbreaking shrieks from the women. 
 
 Leaping back to the road I saw the General stand- 
 ing on the bank. As I joined him the smoke drifted. 
 The house showed dim, then clearer. Its eastern 
 end was torn away. A skeleton-like frame of rafters 
 
A VISIT TO YPRES 279 
 
 remained where the roof had been. The interior 
 was a confused heap of debris. 
 
 Major Davidson, of the R.A.M.C., who stood 
 in the road a few yards beyond the inn, said it 
 opened up like a stage house blown asunder by an 
 explosion in melodrama, tumbling inwards and col- 
 lapsing as a house of cards falls. 
 
 The screaming women were extricated. Though 
 badly hurt they could both walk and were led off 
 toward the dressing station. The aged owner of the 
 estaminet was severely wounded. 
 
 Corporal Smallman, one of the 2nd Cavalry 
 Brigade motor cyclists, was in the kitchen. Both his 
 legs were blown away, and he died in terrible pain 
 on the way to the field hospital. His grim pluck 
 never failed, though when he knew that both limbs 
 were gone and no chance of life remained, he asked 
 through set teeth for a release from the warping, 
 frantic agony in the shape of a kind bullet to hasten 
 the inevitable end. 
 
 Smallman was one of the very best of our motor- 
 cyclists. No finer epitaph could be given him. 
 
 We lost another motor-cyclist by that shell, killed 
 in the road close to where I was standing. 
 
 When the shell came the largest of the two rooms 
 in the front of the house was empty, for the first 
 time any member of the staff could recollect. An 
 occupant of that room would have met instant death. 
 Colonel Home and Percy Hambro were in the 
 smaller, further room. Both were buried in the 
 falling debris, but clambered from the window un- 
 hurt after digging themselves from under a pile of 
 bricks and mortar. 
 
 A chair Hambro had adopted as his own stood 
 
28o FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 in the larger room. The explosion hurled it high in 
 the air. Alighting on the ruined roof it hung there 
 on a splintered rafter, mute evidence of the fate that 
 would have met one who had been its occupant a few 
 minutes before. 
 
 Captain MacFarlane, of the Queen's Bays, was 
 the Divisional signals officer. As the black cloud 
 over the scene lifted, MacFarlane came from the 
 farm gates, black from head to foot. I thought some 
 new form of Hun explosive had'dyed him. " What's 
 happened to you? " I asked in amaze. " I jumped 
 out of the signals office in the barn to see what was 
 up," said Mac. " I couldn't see a foot ahead of me 
 in the muck, and stepped plump into the centre of 
 that stinking stagnant pond in the farmyard. How- 
 ever, I'm none the worse, bar looks." 
 
 I turned to my car. The raised hood was v smashed 
 under a load of brick and splintered beams, about 
 which were wound a woman's bodice and odd bits of 
 feminine headgear. Jagged holes in the panels 
 showed where pieces of shell had torn their way 
 through the sides. Pulling my muffler and Burberry 
 from under debris that covered the front seat, I 
 found each had been pierced in more than one place 
 by shell-splinters. 
 
 The car was equipped with a self-starter, a mys- 
 terious device that sometimes started, sometimes not. 
 Eager to get away, still fearful of another shell, a 
 movement of the starting lever proved that it was 
 to be a case of sometimes not. I went to the starting 
 handle and gave it a swing. As I did so I heard a 
 shout of warning, and involuntarily ducked my head. 
 Close under the mud-guard I crouched. Swish, swish, 
 swish came the shell. I strained forward, bracing 
 
A VISIT TO YPRES 281 
 
 myself for the crash. But swish, swish, swish was 
 all that came. In a twinkling I realised that the 
 half-hearted efforts of the self-starter were turning 
 the engine slowly and jerkily. No shell was near. 
 Guiltily I peeped under an arm and saw Ludlow, 
 across the road, bent double in laughter. " That 
 look of anticipation on your face, President," said 
 he, " was certainly the real thing." 
 
 I moved my load of brick to Wulverghem, where 
 I took stock of damage and cleaned the car. I 
 scrapped the broken hood, but otherwise the car's 
 usefulness was unimpaired. A mud-guard was splin- 
 tered and its general appearance marred, but it 
 would run. 
 
 From Wulverghem I could hear the incessant din 
 of the never-flagging battle. 
 
 A couple of German prisoners were brought back. 
 Their uniforms were dirty and faded, but the men 
 looked sound and fit. One captive said he had had 
 no food for three days, but his appearance went ill 
 with the story. Another German taken during the 
 day told of orders received direct from the Kaiser 
 that Ypres must be taken by Sunday, November 1st. 
 A prisoner stated that his contingent had come from 
 Verdun, via Lille. He told of eighteen German 
 howitzers that he had seen in front of Messines 
 operating in lots of three. 
 
 What a difference eighteen howitzers at our dis- 
 posal would have made ! 
 
 By early afternoon Briggs reported the Germans 
 holding the eastern part of Messines, while he held 
 the west side with his 1st Cavalry Brigade. The 
 Inniskillings had regained their trenches on the right, 
 and were within half a mile of Messines, firm as a 
 
282 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 rock. On the left, toward Wytschaete, the 4th 
 Dragoon Guards and the King's Own Yorkshire 
 Light Infantry held the southern part of the ridge, 
 with the London Scottish, lately arrived, in the fields 
 behind in reserve. 
 
 The heaviest of the street fighting fell to the lot 
 of the Queen's Bays and lithe Hussars. 
 
 The wounded poured through Wulverghem in a 
 never-ending stream. One complete convoy of am- 
 bulances was filled with troopers of the Bays and a 
 couple of their officers. 
 
 I asked one of them if he had seen any Germans. 
 
 " Loads of 'em," was the reply. " Brave beggars, 
 that lot. Three of us were in a house facing the 
 square. Close behind us, a few yards down the 
 street, was our barricade. We saw the Germans 
 start another charge from clear across the open. We 
 pumped a few rounds into 'em, and as they came on 
 we hooked it for the barricade. When those chaps 
 came round the corner where we could get a pot at 
 'em, how many do you think they was? Just eight! 
 It seemed a pity to kill the plucky mugs, ight of 
 'em ! Just think of it ! Charging like as if they was 
 a whole damn army. I wouldn't minded takin' 'em, 
 but we couldn't. It wouldn't 'a done. Besides, 
 maybe they wouldn't. So we wiped 'em off." 
 
 " But " — he shook his head sagely as he climbed 
 aboard the ambulance — " they was plucky beggars, 
 if they was Germans. / don't want to see no pluck- 
 ier. They've been killed off like pigs up there, in 
 that town, and they keep on comin'. They fight 
 stiff, that lot — they fight damn stiff ! " 
 
 Weeks afterwards I read a letter, written by a 
 German officer to a friend in Zurich, which paid a 
 
A VISIT TO YPRES 283 
 
 counter-tribute to that trooper and his comrades. 
 It read as follows : — 
 
 On November ist, Messines was stormed by our troops, with 
 great losses on our side, for the English had erected wonderful 
 barricades, which defied all attempts to break down. As we 
 went to the attack we were told to spare the village as much 
 as possible, but this order proved easier to give than to obey, 
 for the English had so ingeniously hidden themselves on all 
 flanks that they were able to shoot down our men as they 
 approached without our being able to locate their whereabouts. 
 On finding that it was impossible to oust the enemy in this 
 manner, we brought our heavy artillery to bear on the village, 
 thus clearing the path somewhat and enabling us to move for- 
 ward with less molestation from the enemy's deadly snipers. 
 Still, even after two hours' bombardment, every house had to be 
 stormed singly, and it was well into the evening before the place 
 could be deemed anything like safe. 
 
 If we Germans were given to understand formerly that the 
 English soldiers were not to be feared, then that idea may now 
 be banished from our minds, for the general opinion of those 
 who have fought against them in these districts is that one 
 Englishman is more dangerous than any two of the Allies. 
 
 After a luncheon of bread and black coffee, the 
 best fare procurable in the Wulverghem inn to which 
 headquarters had been shifted, de Lisle took the 
 car to General Briggs's headquarters in the hollow 
 behind Messines. As we reached the cover of the 
 little valley a company of the King's Own Scottish 
 Borderers trudged past and started up the hill 
 toward the inferno above. The short distance to 
 the scene of the conflict was emphasized by the fre- 
 quent " Sing-g-g " of a Mauser bullet. 
 
 At dusk de Lisle had a talk with Mullins, whose 
 2nd Brigade was to relieve Briggs's ist Brigade at 
 dark. With the depleted 9th Lancers, 18th Hussars, 
 and 4th Dragoon Guards, Mullins was to have the 
 King's Own Scottish Borderers and the King's Own 
 Yorkshire Light Infantry. General Allenby wanted 
 the position held at all costs, even if it became neces- 
 
284 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 sary to give up the town. " De Lisle could evacu- 
 ate Messines, for that matter," said Allenby, " if 
 he held the ridge from Messines north to 
 Wytschaete." But to lose Messines, said de Lisle, 
 would be to lose the ridge with it, so the town must 
 needs be held. 
 
 The situation was bad. The Germans had a 
 strong position on the eastern side of the town. A 
 night attack was planned, the King's Own York- 
 shire Light Infantry on the right, the Cavalry in 
 the centre and the King's Own Scottish Borderers 
 on the left. Pulling up a field-gun to within a few 
 yards range of a German barricade was discussed, 
 and the idea abandoned. Curiously enough the Ger- 
 mans adopted that very procedure during the night, 
 blowing away an old barricade behind which, luck- 
 ily, only a couple of men were posted. Neither of 
 them was hurt. 
 
 To the north of Messines the London Scottish 
 carried the line along the idge from the left of the 
 4th Dragoon Guards to the right of the 4th Cav- 
 alry Brigade, a part of Gough's 2nd Cavalry Divi- 
 sion. The 4th Brigade consisted of the 3rd 
 Dragoon Guards, the "Tins" (Composite Regi- 
 ment of Household Cavalry) . and the 6th Dragoon 
 Guards (the Carabineers) . The last-named regi- 
 ment was on the extreme right, next to the London 
 Scottish. The keeping of the centre of the precious 
 ridge was chiefly in the hands of these two regi- 
 ments. 
 
 On our return to Wulverghem we heard that the 
 1st and 2nd Division headquarters had been shelled 
 near Hooge that day, Generals Lomax and Monro 
 being wounded, and half a dozen Staff officers 
 
A VISIT TO YPRES 285 
 
 killed. Three Divisional headquarters struck by 
 enemy shells in one day was certainly a record. 
 During the morning I had overheard a Staff officer 
 joking about Staff school teaching, that Divisional 
 headquarters should be well out of range of inter- 
 ruption and distraction of thoughts from the work 
 in hand. A grim joke in the light of the day's 
 events. 
 
 The line in front of Gheluvelt had been lost by 
 the 1 st Division, and regained by the 2nd, said 
 the news from the Ypres salient. The 7th Division 
 was holding on by the skin of its teeth. The French 
 in front of Zillebeke were in like case. 
 
 Twice that night I ran to General Allenby's 
 headquarters at Groote Vierstraat, and was greatlv 
 cheered by the sight of long lines of Conneau's 
 Cavalry on the road. Reinforcements were close 
 at hand. A French officer of cuirassiers told me of 
 thirteen Battalions of the 16th French Corps well 
 on the way to join hands with us on the morrow. 
 Nevertheless, I went to sleep on a bundle of straw 
 in a house in Dranoutre that night with anything 
 but a light heart. 
 
 Could we hold the line? 
 
 What price could Germany pay to break it? 
 
 I was not the only one to ponder those questions 
 that night in Flanders. 
 
 We rose at daybreak on Sunday, November 1st. 
 
 General de Lisle was at breakfast when General 
 Allenby and Colonel Barrow came in. 
 
 " I hear things are much the same in Messines 
 this morning as they were last night," said the 
 Corps Commander. 
 
 " The night attack was only partially successful," 
 
286 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 de Lisle admitted. " We gained part of the con- 
 vent, but could make no headway on the left. We 
 have bettered our position in the town, though we 
 were unable to drive the enemy from it." 
 
 " Well," I said to myself, " things might be 
 worse." 
 
 The French were attacking in two places that 
 morning between St. Eloi and Wytschaete to relieve 
 the pressure. The 32nd Division of the 16th Corps, 
 containing some of the finest soldiers of France, 
 were pressing forward to the attack. The sacrifice 
 of the past days had not been in vain. The line had 
 held, and help was in sight — at least, so it seemed. 
 
 By six o'clock I had started for Wulverghem, de 
 Lisle alongside and Colonel Home in the tonneau. 
 
 As we pulled into the town a grey-haired colonel, 
 without a cap, ran into the road ahead. 
 
 "Is this General de Lisle?" he asked. "To 
 whom do I report? I am Colonel Malcolm, of the 
 London Scottish. The Germans are through," he 
 went on, speaking with some excitement. " They 
 are through the 4th Brigade. They came 
 across the Messines-Wytschaete road, and broke 
 through. My lot out there have stood an 
 awful shelling — Black Marias, shrapnel, every kind 
 and sort of shell we had — all outside any trenches, 
 for we had no trenches to get into. We drove 
 them back twice, and got into them with the bay- 
 onet; but they came on the third time in such num- 
 bers we could not stop them again. I lost my two 
 majors and I don't know how many of my poor 
 men." 
 
 "Where have the Germans got to?" de Lisle 
 broke in. 
 
A VISIT TO YPRES 287 
 
 " They are right out there a little way," said 
 Malcolm, pointing beyond the church to the north- 
 east. 
 
 From the din of small-arm fire I thought he was 
 right, and that they were "out there," but a very 
 little way. 
 
 The General ordered me to push on sharply. He 
 chose a lane by the church too narrow to allow the 
 passage of the car. Leaping to the ground he seized 
 a near-by-horse and galloped across the field, send- 
 ing Colonel Home post-haste to Neuve Eglise to 
 bring up the good old reliable 1st Cavalry Brigade. 
 No matter how battered Briggs' lot might be, ft 
 was a host in itself. In a short time we had finished 
 that job, and had come back hot-foot to Wul- 
 verghem. 
 
 De Lisle returned. He had ound a fair-sized 
 contingent of the London Scottish, who had been 
 driven well back by the heavy shell-fire, but were 
 eager to take a further hand in the fray. They had 
 seen severe fighting. While they inflicted heavy 
 losses on the Germans at close quarters, accounting 
 for many of the enemy when they " got in " with the 
 bayonet, the rush of overwhelming numbers, their 
 unfamiliarity with the position, the darkness and the 
 awful storm of shell to which they were subjected 
 at dawn, had pressed them back some distance from 
 the line. 
 
 They rallied like veterans when de Lisle called 
 on them. One of their number told me afterwards 
 a wave of quiet alughter went over those of his 
 comrades who heard their Major say: "The men 
 have had no breakfast, sir." De Lisle replied: 
 " They will find plenty of breakfast over that ridge 
 
288 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 in front. They look the sort that would thrive on 
 that kind of food." 
 
 As they started off with two squadrons of the 
 Oxfordshire Yeomanry, dismounted, to give the 
 enemy a further taste of their mettle, the Major 
 said to de Lisle, " The Colonel and the other Major 
 are dead, sir, I'm afraid." 
 
 "No, no," answered the General; "they will 
 show up all right." 
 
 " But," insisted the Major, " the Colonel is gone. 
 I have reported him dead." 
 
 " Now, Major," laughed de Lisle, " you\ will 
 find it will take a lot more than that to kill him. 
 I have just left him in Wulverghem, sound as a 
 drum." 
 
 The London Scottish and the Oxfordshires were 
 in support of the Lincolns and Northumberland 
 Fusiliers for most of the day, and both acquitted 
 themselves nobly. 
 
 At 7.30 the General decided to go towards Mes- 
 sines and find General Mullines. We lost no time 
 on the journey. I bumped at good speed past the 
 ruined inn that had been our headquarters. Just 
 beyond we flashed past the (jthLancers, grim and 
 determined, in the reserve trench which was soon to 
 be the front of the battle line. 
 
 When we reached the brow of the hill which 
 stood across the dip in the ground on the western 
 edge of Messines, the road was so swept by bullets 
 that de Lisle ordered me to back quickly behind a 
 heavily foliaged tree. Dismounting, he walked 
 down the slope to Mullins' headquarters, where we 
 had visited Briggs the day before. 
 
 That was a warm corner. Turning the car in 
 
A VISIT TO YPRES 289 
 
 the narrow road with bullets singing over me in 
 dozens, was a nervous business. I could see the 
 Germans coming over the ridge not far away on the 
 left. The enemy held the north part of the town. 
 Having broken our line on the ridge further to the 
 north, they were starting to come westward past 
 Messines, while our troops were still fighting hard 
 in the south-west corner of the town. 
 
 The Mauser bullets came so fast and furious, it 
 was not difficult for me to imagine I was the target, 
 though more than likely I was merely sitting in the 
 line of fire, unnoticed by an enemy busy with far 
 more important game. 
 
 The whizzing pellets came lower. I took to the 
 ditch, and from it watched couples and trios of 
 wounded and stragglers trickling rearward along 
 the ditch across the road from me, Sing-g-g! sing- 
 g-g! went the little devils. Zip-p-p — zipp; as oue 
 cut its way through the leaves. Pawk! One hit 
 the tree trunk. A sharp slap from across the road 
 and a quick " Hi ! " from a passing Tommy told of a 
 bullet that had found a billet. The boy who was 
 hit was helping a wounded comrade. He fell when 
 hit, but rose and hurried on. He would not stop 
 and let me bind his wound. 
 
 Still lower the fire came. One or two hit the 
 cobbled road-bed. I lay on my back in the damp 
 ditch. Twigs and leaves cut off above me floated 
 down lazily. Of all that stream of fire only two 
 bullets hit the car. 
 
 It was only 7.35 when the General walked up the 
 hill to the car. It seemed as if he had been gone 
 three times as long. I jumped into the seat in a 
 hurry. 
 
2 9 o FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 " No rush," said de Lisle. " Wait for the Colo- 
 nel." A tall figure in khaki was coming easily up the 
 rise, unaware of our delay on his account. I longed 
 to shout an invitation to him to quicken his pace. 
 
 At last we were off, and soon back safely in Wul- 
 verghem. Divisional headquarters was moved at 
 eight o'clock to the Station Inn, on the Kemmel- 
 Neuve Eglise road, beside which, in a field, a bat- 
 tery of 6-in. howitzers was making a deafening row. 
 
 I stayed in Wulverghem with Colonel Home until 
 nearly nine o'clock. The wounded poured through 
 the village. Many fine London Scottish lads were 
 among them. An 18th Hussar officer went by, his 
 jaw tied with a reddening bandage. He made as if 
 to speak, spat out a mouthful of blood, then shook 
 his head and waved his hand as he rode on. Two 
 old Belgians made useful trips to the edge of the 
 town, to return supporting tottering soldiers to the 
 ambulances. 
 
 Indians appeared in twos and threes at intervals. 
 Unable to speak English the poor fellows knew not 
 where to go. One lay dead on a bank outside the 
 town, a worn-out comrade crouching huddled beside 
 him. 
 
 Crean, V.C., the R.A.M.C. officer with the ist 
 Cavalry Brigade, one of the bravest men who ever 
 won the cross, was doing the work of a dozen. 
 
 Thinking Wulverghem would soon become un- 
 healthy he started moving the wounded from a tem- 
 porary hospital in an estaminet which faced the end 
 of Wulverghem's main street. Inspired by some 
 intuition, he hurried the ambulances up and filled 
 them in unusual haste. The last wounded man was 
 out of the house and the last ambulance fifty yards 
 
A VISIT TO YPRES 291 
 
 down the road toward Neuve Eglise when crash 
 came a howitzer shell, crushing the estaminet like an 
 egg-shell. 
 
 Major Wilfred Jelf, who had succeeded Colonel 
 Drake as our Divisional C.R.A., did a good piece of 
 work that morning stopping the fire of a battery of 
 our guns that were hurling lyddite into a part of 
 Messines occupied by the King's Own Scottish Bor- 
 derers. 
 
 At 9.15 the General went up to the line again. 
 McCarthy's batteries had been hard at it all the 
 morning and the German gunners were searching 
 madly for them. The enemy were within rifle-range 
 of the left of our reserve line. Between the shells 
 and the spent bullets no place held much security. 
 
 The ridge was gone. The enemy's success in 
 breaking our line between the London Scottish and 
 the 2nd Cavalry Division could not be gainsaid. 
 Holding on to Messines meant a useless sacrifice of 
 men's lives, for the town had been held only to make 
 the ridge secure, so at 9.30 de Lisle ordered our 
 troops back from the edge of the town. 
 
 We had to content ourselves thenceforth with 
 holding our strong reserve line. 
 
 Wytschaete had been captured by the Germans 
 when the ridge was taken. The Beloochis on the left 
 suffered heavily and fought like demons. A barn 
 along the line became a point of vantage. The 
 enemy drove the Indians from it. They rallied, 
 charged, and retook the building, killing or wound- 
 ing every German in it. 
 
 The 3rd Cavalry Brigade relieved the 4th Brigade, 
 in turn to be relieved by the French troops. 
 
292 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 Wytschaete that day saw a charge of the 12th 
 Lancers, supported by the 3rd Hussars, in which 
 scores of Germans were put to the bayonet. 
 
 There, too, the Lincolns and Northumberlands 
 were caught by a tornado of German shell, which 
 cost them many casualties. 
 
 The French attack, after one abortive effort, won 
 the town at midday, and cleared it of the enemy. 
 The place was rendered untenable by howitzer fire, 
 and once more it was evacuated and a line taken to 
 the west of the town. 
 
 Our new line of defence, since the incessant bom- 
 bardment of Messines, Wytschaete, and the ridge 
 between had won the ground to the enemy, ran from 
 the west of Wyschaete, past a hill known as Hill 75 
 (from its designation on our maps) ., to our care- 
 fully prepared position to the east of Wulverghem. 
 From there it circled round St. Ives and the Ploeg- 
 steert Wood to Le Gheer, and thence beyond to the 
 trenches in front of Frelinghien. 
 
 At eleven the General took another spin to the 
 line. En route we met General Allenby's car, and 
 behind it General Wilson of the 4th Division. The 
 three commanders held a roadside conference. 
 When we arrived at the ruined estaminet, the 
 enemy's shrapnel was bursting in dozens over the 
 9th Lancers in the trench line. 
 
 Germans could be seen digging in the open near a 
 windmill on the Messines ridge. Major Hambro 
 jumped into the car and told me to hurry him over 
 to McCarthy, whose guns were provided a splendid 
 target by the busily-entrenchingenemy. 
 
 I dropped down the hill outside Wulverghem like 
 a shot, and piled through the town at a rate of knots. 
 
A VISIT TO YPRES 293 
 
 I did not expect to meet another vehicle in Wulver- 
 ghem, but as I swept toward the corner a big car 
 came toward me at good speed. 
 
 I tried to swerve to the right, but the slippery 
 cobbles threw me round. The space between the 
 houses on the left and the approaching car seemed 
 small indeed, but no alternative existed save a smash. 
 I dived left and through, winning the passage by a 
 hair's breadth. As I escaped I caught a horror- 
 stricken look on the face of the driver of the other 
 car, whom I recognised as Jimmy Rothschild, driving 
 one of General Puteney's staff. 
 
 At noon, returning to headquarters, we passed 
 long lines of London's motor buses debouching in- 
 fantry near Neuve Eglise. Reinforcements in plenty 
 had arrived. Though they came too late to save 
 Messines and Wytschaete, they were in time to 
 nullify the German gain and hold the enemy to the 
 ground so dearly won. 
 
 Early in the afternoon airmen reported the enemy 
 forming for attack at Gapaard, a village east of 
 Messines. French guns and English guns hammered 
 at them for an hour or so, and the threatened attack 
 fizzled out. 
 
 Visits to the ruined inn on the Wulverghem- 
 Messines road became more and more exciting. 
 Wulverghem was shelled at frequent intervals. Coal- 
 boxes dropped everywhere. No field was free 
 from a miniature cellar or two excavated by the 
 howitzer shells. 
 
 " If they begin shelling you, move out," was de 
 Lisle's usual caution. Move out, indeed! Little 
 would be left to move if a Black Maria came too 
 near. Fifty yards from where I stood two great 
 
294 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 black fellows ploughed the turf. Yet not a splinter 
 came my way. 
 
 A run to La Clytte late in the day, to General 
 Allenby's headquarters, took me past innumerable 
 French foot soldiers. They bred confidence in their 
 sturdy appearance, crowding along swiftly in undu- 
 lating lines. They looked eminently business-like. 
 
 Passing through Kemmel at dusk de Lisle saw a 
 detachment resting in the ditch at the side of the 
 road. Pulling up, he said : 
 
 " What troops are these? " 
 
 il London Scottish," came the answer. 
 
 " Is one of your officers with you ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir," and Colonel Malcolm rose and came 
 to the side of the car. 
 
 " Ah, Colonel," said the General, " you are on 
 the right road. La Clytte, where your regiment is 
 to reform and get some rest, is only a couple of miles 
 ahead." 
 
 "On again?" said Malcolm. "My men have 
 had no sleep for three nights, and we have had no 
 rations today." 
 
 But before he had finished, word had passed from 
 mouth to mouth along the line of sturdy youngsters 
 that food, rest, and, best of all, the gathering of their 
 comrades scattered in the charge, were but two miles 
 away. Cheerily prodding sleeping forms, stretching 
 weary limbs, they jumped into the road and were off 
 in a jiffy. Their temper, when so completely worn 
 and tired, was good evidence of the fine stuff of which 
 they were made. 
 
 One day they were to be brigaded with the ist 
 Division, Haig's lot of seasoned heroes. In that 
 collection of regiments, whose fame was one with 
 
A VISIT TO YPRES 295 
 
 Britain's greatness, I was, months later, to hear a 
 veteran officer of the line say with feeling, " No 
 better Battalion of soldiers exists in the whole army 
 than the London Scottish " — high praise indeed, and 
 well earned before it was won. 
 
 So the battle of Messines ended. Our losses were 
 great, and those of the enemy far greater. The 1st 
 Cavalry Division had nearly forty per cent, of its 
 numbers killed or wounded, and the Battalions 
 brigaded with it suffered almost as heavily. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 A FRENCH ATTACK 
 
 The Germans attacked the line of the Ploegsteert 
 Wood and Le Gheer violently on the morning of 
 Monday, November 2nd. The detonation of the 
 heavy firing came dully through the rain to us. Early 
 in the forenoon the noise of battle lessened, the rain 
 ceased, and the sky brightened. 
 
 One who had been talking with Sir John French 
 told of the conversation. " The war surely cannot 
 last much longer," he reported the Field-Marshal 
 to have said. " The butchery is too frightful. The 
 losses in themselves will stop it sooner or later. The 
 enemy cannot stand it long." 
 
 So it must have seemed to one who knew what 
 price the enemy had paid to win the few miles of 
 ground he had so far won on our front in Flanders. 
 
 The Germans were pressing hard on our line in 
 front of Wulverghem to Hill 75, west of Wyt- 
 schaete, and north to our positions before St. Eloi. 
 The sound of the guns was incessant. 
 
 A cyclist from the nth Hussars passed our head- 
 quarters on the Neuve Eglise-Kemmel road and told 
 me of his regiment, which had been shelled out of its 
 trenches. A First Brigade motor-cyclist supple- 
 mented this information. A gap between our strong 
 line of trenches in front of Wulverghem and Flill 75 
 led across soft ground that presented great diffi- 
 culties. To prepare it for defence in the sodden 
 
A FRENCH ATTACK ^97 
 
 state of the low levels was well-night impossible. 
 The nth had been told to hold that part of the 
 line, and had dug themselves in as best they could 
 during the night. The German howitzers had torn 
 the soft fields to bits in the morning, utterly de- 
 stroying the trenches. Half of the nth were hit 
 or buried, and the remainder of the regiment was 
 withdrawn to save it from total annihilation. 
 
 The enemy tried to follow up the advantage thus 
 gained, aney lines could be seen pushing west from 
 WPytschaete. The French seventy-fives were in ac- 
 tion, however, and our own guns were reinforced by 
 batteries from the 2nd Corps. Shells rained on the 
 front towards which the German attack was di- 
 rected, and it soon fizzled out in front of the wail 
 of fire and smoke that barred the way. 
 
 A Belgian staff officer drove past, pausing to tell 
 us of the flooded Yser. From the sea southwards 
 almost to Dixmude, he said, the land was inundated. 
 Germans were drowned in hundreds, their guns were 
 sinking in the all-enveloping mud, and the coast route 
 to Calais was closed to the Huns. 
 
 A run to General Conneau's headquarters near 
 Kemmel showed that the road would not long be 
 passable for cars. Great cellars in the pave road 
 had been dug by the Black Marias, which were fall- 
 ing at frequent intervals all about the district. 
 
 The Kaiser had been in Hollebeke the day before, 
 we were told. Incidentally came the news that our 
 airmen had dropped one hundred and ten bombs on 
 that village during the day in honour of His Im- 
 perial Majesty's presence. Who could hear such 
 rumours without hope that one of the aereal mis- 
 siles had found its mark and ended the mad career 
 
298 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 of the man responsible for the carnage, he had come 
 to engineer? 
 
 Tuesday morning I spent behind the ruined wall 
 of the estaminet that had been our headquarters on 
 the WPulverghem-Messines road. A house on the 
 eastern edge of Neuvre Eglise. had been dynamited 
 out of existence to clear the line of fire for one of 
 our batteries thereabouts. As we passed the pile 
 of debris that marked where it had stood an officer 
 was trying to get a snapshot in the' dull light. Later 
 I saw the result of his efforts in the form of a pic- 
 ture in a London paper. Under it was the inscrip- 
 tion, " The work of a German shell. A large 
 amount was advertised to have been paid for the 
 
 Shells came so close to the ruined inn during my 
 sojourn behind it that I took to the ditch, snuggling 
 down behind the dead body of a red cow that had 
 been thrown from the field to the ditch the evening 
 before. 
 
 The i st Cavalry Division held the Wulverghem 
 line, the 3rd Corps on the right and Conneau's Cav- 
 alry on the left. Sir John French had sent a com- 
 mendatory dispatch to de Lisle's Command, asking 
 us to " hold on." It might be a matter of days or 
 only hours before support came; we were to keep 
 the position at all costs until its arrival. The 2nd 
 Cavalry Division was in billets, to be called upon 
 by the 1st Division if its assistance became neces- 
 sary. 
 
 While the day was young the enemy forced back 
 the French line on our left. De Lisle ran to the 
 headquarters of a French general, whose troops 
 were bearing the brunt of the attack, and sent the 
 1st Cavalry BPrigade up on his flank. French 
 
A FRENCH ATTACK 299 
 
 wounded littered the highway. The seventy-fives 
 were firing with wonderful rapidity from a dozen 
 positions near by. Kemmel came in for a rain of 
 howitzer shells that made the vicinity a most un- 
 healthy spot. 
 
 Foch attacked on Conneau's left, hoping to drive 
 the enemy from Wytschaete, and then press on to 
 retake Messines. Excitement reigned. A wave of 
 optimism engulfed everyone. Our 2nd Cavalry Bri- 
 gade could see the French attack from their trenches. 
 De Lisle moved up to the ill-fated estaminet. All 
 eyes were on the French. When they could be seen 
 approaching Messines de Lisle was to let the 2nd 
 Brigade loose. The 1st Cavalry Brigade would also 
 attack Messines from the south-west and the 3rd 
 Army troops close in from the west. 
 
 The ceaseless roar of guns intensified in fury. 
 Stray shells began dropping in threes and fours close 
 to our headquarters. Pieces from one of them spat- 
 tered the walls and rattled on the tiles of the roof. 
 
 At General Mullins's headquarters back of Wul- 
 verghem shells were falling in even closer proximity. 
 One splinter came through & window of the cottage 
 occupied by Mullins and his staff and found the slim 
 form of Jeff Hornby, but fortunately damaged him 
 so slightly as to wound his feelings more than his 
 attenuated anatomy. The irrepressible spirits of the 
 2nd Brigade staff bubbled forth in unquenchable 
 hilarity at this incident, and messages of mock con- 
 dolence were showered on Hornby, as though the 
 very war itself were one huge joke. 
 
 In the midst of the fun the laughter subsided 
 abruptly on the arrival of Lieutenant Chance of the 
 4th Dragoon Guards. The boy was covered from 
 
3oo FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 head to foot with dirt, as though he had rolled in a 
 mud bath. His hand had been painfully smashed 
 by a shrapnel bullet He came in to report that he 
 had been compelled to pull his squadron back from 
 the line to a position not far behind it. 
 
 Chance was one of the many junior officers who 
 were in senior positions in those days of heavy cas- 
 ualties. His squadron had been on the right of our 
 line, adjoining Conneau's Frenchmen on his left. 
 His task was the holding of the soft sandy ground 
 that had been so shell-swept the day before. Dig- 
 ging a deep trench line, his lot " sat tight " under a 
 bombardment that had been terrific. A senior offi- 
 cer on the left of that position told me later in the 
 day that for thirty-five minutes the bursting shells 
 over Chance's squadron formed a curtain of fire 
 that hid from sight the windmill just beyond. 
 
 Eight, sixteen, twenty-four, and then again eight, 
 sixteen, twenty-four came the Black Marias in line. 
 The ground in front of the trench was thrown up as 
 by a series of mines. Then close behind the trench 
 line, eight, sixteen, twenty-four, until the soft ground 
 caved in in all directions and no trenches were left. 
 Men were buried alive in squads. 
 
 Digging out those who had not been buried so 
 deeply as to be hopelessly immured, Chance led his 
 men back, through a hell of shrapnel fire, to the pro- 
 tection of a road-bank a little to the rear. Not a 
 rifle was unchoked, and some time had to be spent 
 in cleaning them. Wiping the sand and dirt from 
 their mouths and eyes, they cheerfully followed the 
 young officer up to the ruins of their trenches and be- 
 gan digging themselves in again. 
 
 Once more the German howitzers were turned on 
 
A FRENCH ATTACK 301 
 
 them, and once more they were buried in their oblit- 
 erated trenches. Again Chance took the remnants 
 of his squadron back to the road-bank. Realising 
 the futility of further effort to hold the line where 
 the trenches had been, he adopted the new position 
 and improved it as best he could for defence. The 
 wound in his hand, received during the early part 
 of the morning, became so painful he came back to 
 get it dressed, but before seeking the doctor he called 
 on Mullins to acquaint the General of what had 
 taken place, and to apologise for having to give up 
 the part of the line that had been assigned to him. 
 
 Chance was only one of many youngsters who 
 showed such mettle. Truly an army containing a 
 multitude of youths of that mould may be well 
 termed invincible. The lads among the officers were 
 given full opportunity in the Messines fighting to 
 show their worth. The few days on that front cost 
 the 1 st Cavalry Division seventeen officers killed 
 and sixty wounded. The total Divisional casualties 
 were not far from seven hundred. 
 
 It was evening before we gave up all hope of the 
 success of the French " push," but it could not get 
 on. Guns, guns, guns, all day. Aeroplanes sailed 
 over friends and foes. The latter dropped stream- 
 ers in the sunshine, and at dusk fire-balls, over us. 
 Shells, shells, shells, till one wondered if the supply 
 was inexhaustible. One of our airmen reported that 
 our guns hit a German battery twice sure, and pos- 
 sibly three times. Our gunners said the Huns did 
 our batteries no harm, in spite of the incessant shell- 
 ing. 
 
 A G.H.Q. summary recorded that " the absence 
 of men in the active list from amongst the prisoners 
 
302 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 captured during the last month is remarkable, and 
 seems to point to the exhaustion of that class. Be- 
 tween the 14th and 20th of October 7,683 German 
 prisoners have been interned in France, excluding 
 wounded. News from Russia continues to be good." 
 
 That was the news from theh outside world to us. 
 Our news in return was no more or less than that we 
 had " held on," and darkness had come on another 
 day of continual struggle. 
 
 In the night the dismounted French cavalry filed 
 past us in two long lines. On one side of the lane 
 little fellows trotted along in red trousers, light blue 
 tunics, and high-peaked blue caps to match, armed 
 with short carbines and big sabres strapped to their 
 backs, with a great blanket roll atop. On the other 
 side marched the orthodox cuirassiers, tall forms in 
 dark blue coats and capes, their helmets cased in 
 cloth covers. 
 
 With every hour the enemy was to find our thin 
 line growing stronger and his last chance of break- 
 ing through on that front fading away. The day 
 cost the 4th Dragoon Guards two officers killed and 
 two wounded and over thirty casualties among the 
 men. Only seven officers in the 4th Dragoon Guards 
 were left. The 9th Lancers, too, lost a couple of 
 officers and several men from the everlasting shell- 
 fire. 
 
 Conneau's attack brought his line 500 yards 
 nearer the enemy. 
 
 Late at night the 2nd Cavalry Division took over 
 our trenches, and we stood in support of them, the 
 men gaining a momentary respite from five days of 
 incessant battle, during which hardly a man, from 
 general officers to troopers, had his boots off. 
 
A FRENCH ATTACK 303 
 
 A sad incident marked the next day. Lieutenant 
 George Marshall, of the nth Hussars, an aide on 
 General Allenby's staff, and a universal favourite, 
 went to Ypres with a fellow staff officer, as Cavalry 
 Corps headquarters was resting. General Haig's 
 headquarters were in a hotel in the square at Ypres. 
 A big shell lit just outside, killing Colonel Marker 
 of Haig's staff, and also instantly killing Marshall. 
 Our headquarters had been moved to a comforta- 
 be chateau — just in time, it proved. During the 
 morning the Germans shelled Neuve Eglise, our for- 
 mer home, killing seven and wounding more, imme- 
 diately in front of the house which had been our 
 domicile for some nights past. 
 
 After a second day in support, our troopers again 
 took over the trenches, which meant a night of hard 
 work in the rain and mud. A night attack on the 
 French position on Hill 75 had resulted in some 
 success to the enemy, which made the connecting of 
 our left with the french right a troublodus matter 
 in the wet darkness. 
 
 The morning of Friday, the 6th, was quiet; at; 
 least, judged by the standard of its predecessors. 
 BPritish optimism was at once forthcoming, as al- 
 ways, when given a ghost of a chance. A glimpse 
 of the sun made all forget the mud underfoot. A 
 G.H.Q. officer was authority for the rumour that the 
 Germans were evidently preparing to " get out," 
 and moving their howitzers back with that idea in 
 view. All were willing to accept any cheerful in- 
 terpretation that might be offered. 
 
 At noon the French gallantly attacked Hill 75 
 and won it nobly. With a trio of staff officers I 
 tailed along across the fields ankle-deep in mud, 
 
30 4 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 watching the advance of the lines in blue. We could 
 see little enough, but quick rushes up slopes not far 
 ahead were now and then visible, and the rattle and 
 roll of small-arm fire so clove in front was inspiring. 
 French troops charge over almost impassible ground 
 with unbelievable rapidity. 
 
 Our first big 9.2 guns arrived, whereat there was 
 unlimited rejoicing. For days after the arrival of 
 the first one or two to be apportioned to our part of 
 the front, marvellous tales of direct hits far inside 
 the German lines were current. 
 
 Visits to the trenches near our old headquarters 
 inn in front of Wulverghem were daily increasing 
 in interest, as that locality was never free from dan- 
 ger. A dozen howitzer shells fell round the ruined 
 estaminet that day as we approached it, but luckily 
 no more followed. The road beside the dead red 
 cow, that I had adopted as shelter in the ditch, was 
 torn by a great shell hole, and paving blocks had 
 been scattered broadcast. Rifle-fire became an added 
 distraction while I was waiting on the hillside, stray 
 bullets cutting leaves from the tall poplars that 
 lined the roadway. 
 
 Heavy fire away to the north told of battle to- 
 wards Ypres. We ran to General Allenby's head- 
 quarters on Mont Noir that evening and heard of 
 fierce fighting in front of Klein Zillebeke. The 
 French infantry had been violently attacked and 
 driven out. The 7th Cavalry Brigade had been 
 sent in to make good the line, as the retirement of 
 the French uncovered the right of Lord Cavan's 
 Guards Brigade. The 1st and 2nd Life Guards 
 and the Blues had won back the lost ground, but it 
 had cost them dear. Colonel Wilson, of the Blues, 
 
A FRENCH ATTACK 305 
 
 and Hugh Dawnay, who had left French's staff to 
 command the 2nd Life Guards, had been killed. 
 Seventeen of the officers of the two regiments had 
 been killed or wounded, and many of their men. 
 To Lawford's 22nd Brigade also was due a good 
 share of the glory of snatching victory from defeat. 
 
 Thus swung the tide of battle. One day, in one 
 part of the line, it seemed the rush of onslaught 
 had been stemmed, only to break forth with in- 
 creased fury in another sector. 
 
 What would be the end? 
 We crawled home to our chateau through a heavy 
 fog. The mud, the deep ruts in the broken pave, 
 the great shell holes in the road, French troops and 
 English along the way, horse and motor transport, 
 an odd battery or two of guns changing position 
 under cover of the night, motor-cars and motor- 
 cycles, all without lights, made such a run a trial of 
 temper and of skill. 
 
 Colonel Seely called and provided some amuse- 
 ment to offset the strain. 
 
 Saturday, the 7th, came, wrapped in cold fog. 
 All night the rifles had spat into the darkness, each 
 side firing at the flashes when they showed dim 
 through the mist. 
 
 Once more we poked our way to the ruined esta- 
 minet that was our daily port of call. Just before 
 nine o'clock Hardress Lloyd came back from the 
 trenches, where he had gone with de Lisle. He 
 said the General had walked down the line, and 
 we were to make a detour through WPulverghem 
 and meet him on the road to Wytschaete. 
 
 In the outer edge of Wulverghem we found a 
 barricade across the street, which had been so sol- 
 
306 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 idly constructed that there was no question of pull- 
 ing it down and getting the car through. Conse- 
 quently Lloyd suggested that I should put the car 
 under such shelter as I could find, while he walked 
 down the road and explained to the General why 
 we did not come further. I left the car in the lee 
 wall while I went on a tour of inspection. I found 
 no one in the village; at least, no one alive. There 
 were four dead soldiers in the tartan of a Scottish 
 contingent down one street, and three dead soldiers 
 who had been laid out, with a sheet put over them. 
 I discovered I was the only live person in the town, 
 which was by no means consoling. A sharp burst 
 of rifle fire started not far on the left, and I returned 
 to the car. Our field-guns had been hard at it since 
 daybreak, and so had those of the enemy, and the 
 small-arm fire had also been heavy at intervals. The 
 French were attacking, and the heavy high explo- 
 sive German shells were going off with their double 
 rrrumph-r-rrumph not far away. 
 
 I sat on the step of the car, took out my note- 
 book, and scribbled. My ntes recorded the events 
 of the next few minutes in detail that tells of effort 
 to forget my nervousness. 
 
 "9 a. m. — Across the road from me is the con- 
 vent building which was used as General Allenby's 
 headquarters for some days recently. It is a sight. 
 Every pane of glass in the first story windows is 
 shattered, and many of those in the windows of the 
 ground floor. A great gaping hole in the roof is 
 surrounded by scores of smaller holes in the tiles. 
 The roof as a rof is not of much further use. 
 
 " Bang! A shell has fallen in the town. Whizz ! 
 Bang! Another one just over me. To go on with 
 
A FRENCH ATTACK 307 
 
 my description of General Allenby's house (Bang! 
 another), a big hole has been torn in the wall of the 
 upper story (Bang! one has fallen closer still), and 
 a sister to it appears i the side of the lower story. 
 
 " The four shells that last came this way appear 
 to be shrapnel. The French guns are replying, and 
 so are ours. Whizz ! There went one that did not 
 burst. Now for the other three to make up the 
 quarteete, as the German batteries are apparently 
 firing in fours. 
 
 " 9.5 a. m. Bang! That is number two. Close 
 and just on my left. It exploded. Quite a shower 
 of bits of debris and pieces of shell fell over me. 
 Nasty sound. Bang! Number three. That was 
 a good shell as well, also a bit to the left of me and 
 a little further beyond. A couple of bullets from 
 that one hit the convent. Whizz ! and a crash just 
 at my side. That was No. 4. Well over and in a 
 fine position. Fortunately that it did not explode, 
 as it could not have been more than eight or ten 
 feen from where I sit, and just across, the thin wall 
 which is the best protection that I can find at this 
 point. If it hadn't been a ' dud ' they would have 
 more than likely had to cart me out of this rotten 
 town. 
 
 " 9.8 a. m. Sometimes the German gunners stop 
 after firing a series of eight, and sometimes after a 
 series of twelve. Rarely with this itinerant shelling 
 do they send more than two lots of four, or at the 
 outside three lots of four. There are occasions when 
 they keep it up for a long time. I wonder what will 
 be their policy this morning as regards Wulver- 
 ghem ? One more right where the last one lit would 
 do the business so far as I am concerned. 
 
3 o8 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 " 9.1 1 a. m. Beginning to feel better, for it looks 
 as though the eight finished the salvo. 
 
 "9.13 a. m. The German shells are searching 
 the vicinicty of the town on both sides and in the 
 front and all behind it, but the eight did finish that 
 lot. What luck! They are looking for the French 
 batteries which are firing steadily from quite a num- 
 ber of positions hereabouts. A French artillery offi- 
 cer has come up the road and greeted me with great 
 cordiality. He asked me if I had seen another 
 French officer in the uniform of his battery here- 
 abouts. I have not, and told him so. We passed a 
 joke about the fact. Wulverghem is a nice healthy 
 spot at the moment, and I told him I thought the 
 shell-fire had for the moment ceased. I was con- 
 strained to knock on a piece of wood beside me as 
 I made the remark, which brought a curious glance 
 from the Frenchman. Superstition apparently has 
 no nationality. 
 
 " 9.15 a. m. I dislike being the only occupant of 
 a town that is being shelled. If I could have held the 
 French officer for company I should have done so, 
 but he has returned to his battery, after wishing me 
 good luck. 
 
 "9.17 a. m. Here, at last, is the General, and I 
 can get out of this place, and back to our headquar- 
 ters, which I shall not be lot hto do." 
 
 The General told me, as we returned, that he had 
 been interested in watching the shelling. He, too, 
 had been wondering whether the Germans had com- 
 menced a consistent bombardment of the town which 
 would last for some time, or whether they were only 
 dropping a couple of rounds of shrapnel thereabouts. 
 He said, " When I saw they were shelling the town 
 
A FRENCH ATTACK 309 
 
 I knew that you would be having an engrossing few 
 minutes, so I remained in the trenches a little while. 
 It was quite as interesting to watch the shelling from 
 that position as it would have been to observe it 
 from Wulverghem, and I did not want to steal any 
 of the enjoyment from you." 
 
 The K.O.S.B. and K.O.Y.L.L went past us during 
 the forenoon on their way to the line. The former 
 regiment suffered heavily during the last hours of 
 the fighting in Messines. A captain told me all but 
 two of his fellow officers were hit and the strength 
 of the Battalion reduced by nearly 150 men. 
 
 French infantry moved to the right of our Wul- 
 verghem front and planned an attack on Messiness 
 for the afternoon. General de Lisle rode up to 
 watch the progress of the French, and said I could 
 come as far as our familiar ruined inn, see what I 
 could, and bring him home when the show was over. 
 At the French General's headquarters I learned that 
 the attack on the slopes of Hill 75, where the line 
 was swaying back and forth each day, was success- 
 ful. A good length of trench was taken, the Ger- 
 mans leaving scores of their dead in it. 
 
 At the smashed estaminet howitzer shells were 
 falling in sufficient numbers to dispel any illusions as 
 to the withdrawal of the enemy's big guns from the 
 Messines area. Odd rifle bullets hit a tree or a 
 broken wall with a nasty smack, and the wicked 
 zipp-zipp of the little fellows came every few sec- 
 onds. Once a German machine-gun spattered that 
 part of the hill, but the damaged house wall was 
 good cover from any such missiles. The sound of 
 BPlack Marias shrieking not far above and crashing 
 
310 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 into the pasture beyond was diconcerting, but they 
 were doing no real damage. 
 
 By chance I discovered that a deep trench had 
 been dug in the lee of a haystack that stood at the 
 corner of the ruins of the farm across the road from 
 the inn. There was safety. The field about the 
 stack was littered with dead cows, and monster shell 
 holes were thickly spattered in front of it. 
 
 I could see the French and German lines on the 
 sides of Hill 75, not far across a ravine at the foot 
 of the steep slope surmounted by my haystack. 
 
 The noise of the bursting German shells and the 
 sharp barking of a number of batteries of seventy- 
 fives behind me was painful. Black Marias fell near 
 in search of the French guns. The noise really 
 hurt me. 
 
 When under shell-fire, I have more than once 
 tried to sense the pain of the constant banging as 
 on might define physical suffering. My brain was 
 sometimes numbed, sometimes made acutely sensi- 
 tive to it. When the howitzer shells came in dozens 
 and scores the suond waves have caused me positive 
 agony of a mental sort. The sensation was inde- 
 scribable. A tearing at my nerve-centres seemed 
 like to wrench apart some imaginary fabric of feel- 
 ing and sensibility. It grew unbearable, but gen- 
 erally subsided with a lull in the shelling, leaving 
 me tired, as if having suffered physical pain. 
 
 The Oxfordshire Yeomanry were in our front 
 trenches not far away, and one of their officers was 
 on observation duty behink the stack. He saw a 
 company of Germans file down a cross trench a 
 couple of hundred yards in front of the French line 
 on Hill 75, and at once told the French gunner who 
 
A FRENCH ATTACK 311 
 
 was observing in the trenches. Back ran the French- 
 man to his battery, to point out the exact spot. In a 
 moment the seventy-fives were sweeping th ridge in 
 front of the French trenches. Back and forth and 
 back again went the devastating shower of shrapnel. 
 " Some observation," remarked the Yeomanry offi- 
 cer with a grin. 
 
 As de Lisle had suggested my going into the 
 trenches and " talking to the boys " if I became 
 lonesome, I crep along the roadside ditch that served 
 as an approach trench. " Keepd own," came the 
 sharp order as I drew near. I stooped lower. In 
 a tiny dug-out I chatted with a couple of Oxford- 
 shire officers. 
 
 One of them, Lieutenant Gill, I had heard men- 
 tioned as having handled his men with great cool- 
 ness on the morning we lost Messines, the first day 
 the Oxfordshires were under fire. Shelled while 
 lying in a beet-field, Gill had quietly moved his men 
 a hundred yards from the path of the howitzer 
 shells, which followed him to his newly-chosen posi- 
 tion. Thereupon he as quietly moved the men back 
 whence they had come, losing but few of them. Re- 
 peating this manoeuvre at intervals saved his squad- 
 ron heavy casualties, and taught them that disre- 
 gard of Black Marias on soft ground which is so 
 hard to learn, but so comforting when once one has' 
 thoroughly absorbed the idea. 
 
 The French attack on Messines " made some 
 progress," but was stopped a long way from its 
 objective. 
 
 News came at breakfast on Sunday the 8th of the 
 heavy Ypres fighting of the day before. Byng's 3rd 
 Cavalry Division and Lawford's 22nd Brigade were 
 
312 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 specially commended. Owing to them we regained 
 practically all our lost line at Klein Zillebeke. The 
 French on Haig's right had a terrific struggle and 
 gained a mile. 
 
 On our immediate left Conneau reported that the 
 enemy had evacuated some of the Wytschaete 
 trenches, leaving their dead in considerable num- 
 bers. The attack on Messines was again to be 
 pressed. 
 
 Taking advantage of the cool bright day, General 
 de Lisle ran to the headquarters of the Indian Corps 
 at Hinges. Twenty-three thousand of Willcocks' 
 men were in the line, I was told. General gossip 
 told of Seaforths, whose trenches had been invaded 
 by Germans, only to be bayonetted to a man, and of 
 Ghurkas who hated shell fire, and could not under- 
 stand why they should sit still under it without re- 
 taliation of a personal sort. 
 
 The Germans pushed our 3rd Army troops back 
 to the edge of the Ploegstreet Wood during the 
 morning. 
 
 The French were confident night would find them 
 in Messines, but were doomed to disappointment. 
 
 Waiting outside General Allenby's headquarters 
 at Westoutre the next morning, a 3rd Cavalry Divi- 
 sion officer told of a captain in his regiment, killed 
 in front of Ypres, whose body had been found the 
 next day robbed of coat, cap, and boots. A listener 
 retailed a story of a visit paid to a French battery 
 by an officer in an English staff uniform. He spoke 
 good French, and showed no less intelligence than 
 iterest in the position and the battery's work. Two 
 other British officers came past. Noting the khaki, 
 they called out a query as to the route to a near-by 
 
A FRENCH ATTACK 313 
 
 town, and were answered in French. Neither of 
 them had any proficiency in the Latin tongue, and 
 said so feelingly. 
 
 "What swank!" said one to the other; "the 
 beggar must want to show off in front of the French 
 chaps." 
 
 " Please direct us in English," he concluded to the 
 staff officer. " Sorry to have bothered you." 
 
 But not a word of English could they obtain in 
 reply. About to depart in mystification and some- 
 what ruffled in temper, one became suspicious. 
 
 A moment sufficed to prove the pseudo staff offi- 
 cer a sham. He was no other than a German spy 
 in British uniform. 
 
 A subaltern of the Warwickshires rode up asking 
 the way to Bailleul. The 2nd Royal Warwicks, the 
 2nd Queen's (West Surreys), the 1st Royal Welsh 
 Fusiliers, and the 1st South Staff ords composed Law- 
 ford's 22nd Brigade, which had loomed large in 
 despatches. We piled question on question. The 
 Brigade was retiring from the line for rest, said the 
 Warwick lad. Of its original 124 officers only four- 
 teen were left, and its men were reduced to less than 
 half the strength in which they had left England. 
 WPhen the enemy broke through between Cavan 
 and the French the 22nd Brigade and the 3rd Cav- 
 alry Division were hurled into the breach. Out of 
 the fourteen officers left in the 22nd eleven were 
 killed or wounded, leaving only three, including 
 Lawford himself, who led one bayonet charge in 
 person. " The general," said the young officer, 
 " plugged on ahead of all of us, waving a big white 
 stick over his head and shouting like a banshee. 
 
314 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 There was no stopping him. He fairly walked into 
 Germans, and we after him on the run. We took 
 the German trench in front of us and held it, but they 
 mowed us down getting up there. How Lawford 
 escaped being hit is more than anyone can tell. I 
 can see him now, his big stick waving in the air, and 
 he shouting and yelling away like mad, though you 
 couldn't hear a word of what he said above the 
 sinful noise. My Sam, he did yell at us ! Wonder 
 what he said? " 
 
 The boy rode off down the road in a brown study. 
 It had just struck him he hadn't heard a word his 
 chief had been shouting. He had come through 
 that awful charge alive — one of few to do so. Yet 
 he forgot all that. His own part in the fight never 
 entered his head. "Wonder what he said?" And 
 he rode away thinking. 
 
 Oh, such men ! Could the whole world beat them ? 
 
 That afternoon I met General Lawford himself 
 in Bailleul, looking fit as a fiddle. After great ef- 
 forts I persuaded him to dine with us that night at 
 our chateau, on condition that I should convey him 
 there and back, and " not keep him more than an 
 hour," as he was busy. 
 
 Someone from St. Omer told me the " Terriers " 
 were coming out in increasing numbers. The ioth 
 Liverpool, 5th BPlack Watch, and Leicestershire 
 Yeomanry were across the Channel, soon to be fol- 
 lowed by other Territorial Battalions. 
 
 General de Lisle had watched with increasing in- 
 terest the splendid observation of the French gun- 
 ners and the terrible execution of their seventy-fives. 
 Taking Major Wilfred Jelf, our Divisional gun- 
 ner, he ran to the ruined estaminet in front of Wul- 
 
A FRENCH ATTACK 315 
 
 verghem to spend an hour or so watching French 
 gun practice. 
 
 As I pulled up at the familiar spot I saw ample 
 evidence that the Germans had been paying marked 
 attention to our former headquarters since my last 
 visit. Six or eight new and good-sized shell holes 
 showed black in the soft earth of a nearby field. 
 
 The rickety old chair I had rescued from the 
 debris a few days before and placed in the less of 
 the wall was smashed and tossed aside. A stretcher 
 which had stood against the wall for some days was 
 broken in pieces. The pave road was badly bat- 
 tered, the grey stones of the surface being spattered 
 with holes of varying sizes and ground to white pow- 
 der. Odd-looking little holes those, and sinister in 
 appearance, telling of flying splinters of stone, not 
 less deadly than pieces of shell. 
 
 As we crossed the road and entered what had 
 once been the gateway of a farm, one of the build- 
 ings, a mass of ruins well burned out, was blazing 
 fitfully. 
 
 Two partially burned rifles were mute evidence 
 that some soldiers had been about when the build- 
 ing had been struck. 
 
 Of the two buildings that still bore some sem- 
 blance of their original form, one had been as com- 
 pletely demolished by high explosive shell as had its 
 fellow consumed by the flames. It had not caught 
 fire, but shell after shell had passed through it till 
 the mere skeleton of a building was left. 
 
 A signal corps man in a trench behind a haystack 
 at the corner of the farm reported that his wire had 
 been cut half a dozen times by shells that afternoon. 
 While cut off from all possibility of communicating 
 
316 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 with his fellows, he busied himself by counting the 
 German shells. During the first thirty minutes he 
 had counted fifty that had fallen within a short 
 radius. 
 
 The German gunners were evidently of the opin- 
 ion that the French batteries were closer to the 
 estaminet. 
 
 In order to reach the French observation officer 
 we walked down the road in the direction of the 
 front trench. The enemy trenches at this point were 
 about four hundred yards from our line. It was 
 growing dusk. We covered a quarter of the dis- 
 tance, when a shrapnel, followed closely by three 
 more, burst almost over our heads. Had we been 
 in the field on the other side of the hedge beside 
 which we were walking we should have been in the 
 direct path of the shrapnel bullets. All three of us 
 stepped down into the ditch that ran by the road- 
 way. I ducked as low as possible as we quickened 
 our pace to the trench in front of us. Four more 
 shells, closer it seemed than the first four, burst over 
 just as we reached the shelter of the trenches. The 
 General and Jelf went into a tiny dug-out with two 
 officers of the 2nd Life Guards, and I crawled on 
 my hands and knees into the mouth of the main 
 trench. This trench was fairly deep, and at the 
 bottom the men had hollowed out a snug shelter 
 underneath the front wall. The men, lying head to 
 feet at the bottom of the trench, well under the cave 
 roof, were quite secure. 
 
 The French batteries behind us began a fast and 
 furious reply. The enemy's fire quickened in turn 
 until shells were bursting with nerve-racking regu- 
 larity over the roadway immediately behind us. 
 
A FRENCH ATTACK 317 
 
 I could find no room in the bottom, so lay in the 
 approach part of the trench. How I did wish for 
 a foot or two more depth to the end of the trench 
 that was left to me ! 
 
 The French batteries continued to fire steadily. 
 They were shelling a farm in the near distance in 
 which the enemy had placed a group of machine 
 guns. As dusk approached apace, the Germans were 
 afforded an increasingly better target by the flash 
 of the seventy-fives close behind us. After fifteen 
 or twenty minutes of nerve exercise the General de- 
 cided that he must return to the car. So many suc- 
 cessive quantities of shrapnel were bursting over 
 the road that to return by the way we had come 
 seemed suicidal. The Germans now and again 
 turned their guns on to the ruined inn and the farm. 
 I told Jelf I was sure they knew we had to go back 
 there for the car. But jokes fell a bit flat in that 
 atmosphere. 
 
 Finally the General tried a detour. Walking 
 down the road a few yards, we turned across it, 
 when we reached our trench line on the further side. 
 I glanced down in the trenches as we went behind 
 them. The men were lying tight and close at the 
 bottom. A French observer who was in the hedge 
 by our side warned us to keep low on account of 
 the French shells that were screaming over our 
 heads. 
 
 As we turned back towards the car the French 
 guns seemed to throw more vigour into their firing. 
 The swift rush of the shells and the sharp bark 
 from the muzzles of the seventy-fives so little dis- 
 tant made one think uncomfortably of prematures. 
 Once in a while shells will burst before their time 
 
318 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 and scatter from the very mouth of the field-piece 
 death and disaster to him who chances to be in the 
 near foreground. 
 
 A bough from a low tree under which I was 
 standing was cut by one of the French shells. I 
 ducked and involuntarily jumped for a near-by 
 trench. I was at once called back by the General, 
 who was off across the open space before I could 
 catch up. As I stepped through the hedge a rain 
 of German shrapnel, from twelve to sixteen coming 
 at once, burst over the part of the field just ahead 
 of de Lisle. 
 
 WPe could not veer further towards the French 
 batteries, as to cross their line of fire at any closer 
 proximity would have been madness. It was equally 
 unwise to stay where we were. To return to the 
 trench which we had been occupying might very well 
 have landed us in difficulties, and, at all events, 
 would find us no nearer our objective — the car and 
 " home." 
 
 The General walked steadily across the field, un- 
 mindful of the shrapnel. I was never more sure of 
 being hit. I hardly know whether I was paying 
 more attention to the French guns roaring away 
 and their shells whizzing over our heads or to the 
 enemy's shrapnel bursting in front of us, on our 
 right, over us, seemingly everywhere about us. I 
 kept my eyes strained in the dusk for shell holes 
 which were deep enough to offer some shelter. Had 
 I been alone I would have run, I think, rabbit-wise 
 from burrow to burrow rather than walk so steadily 
 and with such maddening slowness across that aw- 
 ful beet-field. 
 
 In the centre of the field we suddenly stumbled 
 
A FRENCH ATTACK 319 
 
 across an empty trench. Much to my delight the 
 General suggested that we should retire into it for 
 a moment. As I lay prone in the bottom of it the 
 shells continued to come over, bursting not far 
 above. We were quite secure unless a shell actually 
 came into the trench and burst, in which circum- 
 stance we would have bnen, as Jelf said, " finished 
 up properly and consequently beyond all worry." 
 Turning their attention from theh field for a mo- 
 ment, the Germans began to burst shrapnel over 
 the ruined estaminet. Time and again the Major, 
 after a particularly violent burst of shell, remarked, 
 " That lot finished the car thoroughly, I think." De 
 Lisle was of like opinion. I said that I hoped that 
 the Germans would keep on firing at the car. It 
 was much better than to burst big and little ones all 
 around us. " But," said the General, " I certainly 
 don't want to walk home." " I do," said I. " I 
 would be quite willing to walk home and walk back 
 again to get out of this." 
 
 Once or twice we searted to leave the trench, but 
 each time the French batteries seemed to quicken 
 their fire and the enemy shelled back violently in 
 return. When it was almost dark we cut across to 
 a line of trees, then up towards the road, leaving the 
 tree line for the temporary shelter of a low hay- 
 stack in an open field not far from the motor. I 
 sallied forth to the car, losing no time. I started 
 the engine, jumped quickly into the seat, and dashed 
 away from the estaminet. Pausing a moment to pick 
 up the General and Jelf by the haystack, I sped 
 down the hill towards safety. 
 
 Inspection of the car on the following morning 
 showed a couple of jagged holes in the sides of the 
 
320 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 body. A large piece of shell had gone through an 
 empty petrol tin and ruined a rug in the tonneau. 
 So but little damage was done after all, save to my 
 nerves. 
 
 We were gaining the belief that German high-ex- 
 plosive shrapnel defeated its own object. The pro- 
 pulsive power necessary to scatter the bullets was 
 often counteracted by too powerful a bursting 
 charge. 
 
 Lawford dined with us as promised, and told us 
 something of the hard times that had fallen to the 
 lot of the 7th Division, which had but forty-four 
 of its officers left and only 2,336 of its 12,000 men. 
 
 The 1 st Cavalry Division was once more in the 
 trenches on the morning of Tuesday the 10th. Gen- 
 eral de Lisle started early for the front. We passed 
 Neuve Eglise, running to the Brewery Inn on the 
 Kemmel road. Marks of shell-fire showed this spot 
 an enemy target, so it was voted unhealthy for head- 
 quarters. A point near Wulverghem was recon- 
 noitred, but dead horses were near-by in such num- 
 bers and state that we returned to Neuve Eglise 
 and settled in our old home. German shells came 
 daily to Neuve Eglise, a fact that caused some 
 thought to more than one member of the staff. 
 
 The location of headquarters for the day having 
 been settled, we visited General Briggs on the Kem- 
 mel road, then ren to Wulverghem. 
 
 De Lisle rode in front, beside me. Hardress 
 Lloyd was in the tonneau. 
 
 At the entrance of the town I glanced at the Gen- 
 eral questioningly. " Surely," I thought, "he is not 
 going up to that unmentionable ruined inn again. 
 The place is a death-trap." 
 
A FRENCH ATTACK 321 
 
 " Straight on," said de Lisle. Yes, he was going 
 to the estaminet after all. 
 
 I set my teeth and " let the car out." 
 
 Three seconds later, " Crash! " a shell exploded 
 in our faces. The sound of splintered glass and of 
 the shell striking the car mingled with the deafening 
 blast of the explosion. BPullets whizzed past, strik- 
 ing on all sides. A French soldier close to whom 
 we were passing dropped with a groan. 
 
 I felt a sharp blow in the chest and a twinge of 
 pain as I caught my breath. 
 
 I reached for the brake. " The General," I 
 thought, " must be hit. Luck / appear to be all 
 right. Now to back round and clear out before 
 number two shell comes." 
 
 " Back out of it," came from de Lisle, with suffi- 
 cient emphasis to show he was alive, right enough. 
 
 I tried to put in the reverse, a maddening process 
 on my car at the best of times. Force ! Force ! the 
 gear would not go in. Any moment number two 
 and numbers three and four, for that matter, might 
 arrive. At last the reverse grated home and I 
 started back. 
 
 Turning, I saw de Lisle was sound and unhurt. 
 But Hardress ! His face was in his hands, his head 
 bent. Hit ! And in the head ! I was sure of it. But 
 no, a moment later he assured us he was all right 
 bar bits of glass from the splintered screen that had 
 got into his eyes. 
 
 Backing as fast as I could, I narrowly missed a 
 French soldier who had fallen behind us, sorely 
 wounded. Swinging the car round, I headed for 
 Neuve Eglise. No need to stop for the French boy, 
 
322 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 whose comrades were close at hand. Away we 
 dashed. " Crash! " came another shell as we tore 
 out of the town. I never learned where it struck; 
 all I know was that we were clear of it. 
 
 A good-sized piece of shell had hit the heavy 
 plate-glass screen, shattered it to bits, and luckily 
 glanced past the General and struck me in the chest. 
 Had I known of its coming the night before I could 
 hardly have been better prepared. Feelning the 
 cold weather intensely, I had worn an unusual 
 amount of clothing. 
 
 A heavy flannel vest, a thick winter khaki shirt, a 
 weird sweater, double-breasted, annexed in Rheims, 
 and my tunic were covered by a double-breasted 
 Irish freize coat. This last had been sent out to me 
 by mistake as it was dark grey in colour. So unor- 
 thodox a garment could not be worn along the lines 
 without a plentiful display of khaki. Consequently 
 I had wrapped round my neck a huge khaki muffler 
 of thickly-knitted wool, tying its ample folds at the 
 chin, and letting its double ends provide me with a 
 wide front of the prevailing shade. 
 
 The piece of shell tore its way through the dou- 
 ble folds of muffler and played havoc with the great 
 coat. None of the remainder of my voluminous 
 wardrobe suffered, but my breast-bone felt the shock. 
 It was some time before I could believe that it or 
 various ribs attached to it had not been broken. 
 Time proved that a bad bone bruise was the extent 
 of my injuries after all. As the General hadn't a 
 scratch and Lloyd's eyes were none the worse, all 
 ended merrily, save for the car. 
 
 A halt at French headquarters along the road 
 showed that a shrapnel bullet had penetrated the 
 
A FRENCH ATTACK 323 
 
 radiator, passing through it, and leaving a clean 
 hole, from which the water was spouting. 
 
 " No water of any sort at this farm," said a 
 French staff officer. I hurried on to Neuvre Eglise, 
 and from there took the damaged vehicle back to 
 the base for repair. 
 
 A halting, limping run found me in St. Omer by 
 afternoon, hors de combat, but hoping soon to be 
 ready to return to duty. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE BATTLE IN THE SALIENT 
 
 Wednesday, November nth, marked the onset of 
 the great attack on Ypres by the Prussian Guard. 
 
 The Kaiser had spurred his Bavarians, Landwehr 
 and Landsturm to superhuman efforts. No troops 
 culd have fought with greater bravery, but they 
 fought in vain. Their failure to hammer a hole in 
 the thin British line left William the War Lord 
 but one arrow in his quiver — the Guard. 
 
 The onslaught of Germany's most seasoned vet- 
 erans was in keeping with their proud name. 
 
 The enemy hurled itself simultaneously against 
 the line held by Haig's depleted ist Corps, the 32nd 
 and 9th French Corps on his left and the i*th 
 French Corps on his right. Heroic charges were 
 repulsed with enormous loss to the oncoming Bat- 
 talions, which dashed themselves in solid masses 
 againt men to whom fighting had become a natural 
 as drawing breath. 
 
 Haig's troops met the brunt of the fight along the 
 Menin road, in the vicinity of Gheulvelt. One 
 Division of the German Guard Corps, a portion of 
 the 15th German Corps and a portion of the 27th 
 Reserve Corps surged forward indomitably, and 
 drove our ist Division from its first line of trenches, 
 only to have the most of the ground gained torn 
 from them by such counter attacks as warfare had 
 never seen before. 
 
 324 
 
THE BATTLE IN THE SALIENT 325 
 
 The story was told simply and effectively by 
 Haig's general order of the 12th. This read as. fol- 
 lows: 
 
 ' The Commander-in-Chief has asked me to con- 
 vey to the troops under my cmmand his congratula- 
 tions and thanks for their splendid resistance to the 
 German attack yesterday. This attack was deliv- 
 ered by some fifteen fresh Battalions of the German 
 Guard Corps, which had been specially brought up 
 to carry out the task in which so many other Corps 
 had failed, viz : to crush the British and force a 
 way through to Ypres. 
 
 " Since our arrival in this neighbourhood the is.t 
 Corps, assisted by the 3rd Cavalry Division, 7th 
 Division, and troops from the 2nd Corps, have met 
 and defeated the 23rd, 26th and 27th German Re- 
 serve Corps, the 15th Active Corps, and finally a 
 strong force from the Guards Corps. It is doubt- 
 ful whether the annals of the British Army contain 
 any finer record than this." 
 
 De Lisle's 1st Cavalry Division came out of the 
 line in front of Messines on the evening of the nth 
 for a well-earned seventy-two hours' rest. For ten 
 days little or no opportunity had been given to take 
 stock of heavy casualties and refit. 
 
 The men left the trenches on Wednesday after- 
 noon, and at dinner on Wednesday night orders 
 came to Headquarters that the Division must move 
 to Ypres at once in support of Haig's men, to whom, 
 after three weeks of constant battle, had fallen the 
 task of repulsing the fiercest attack of the whole 
 war. 
 
 The 1st Cavalry Brigade was on the road to the 
 north by 1 1 p. m. and the 2nd Cavalry Brigade an 
 
326 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 hour later, all thought of the seventy-two hours' 
 rest forgotten, eager to press on to the succour of 
 their gallant comrades, with such strength as in 
 them lay. That strength was not to be gauged by 
 their attenuated numbers, for the troopers, who 
 had held on to Messines till the ridge was lost and 
 their withdrawal ordered in consequence, were equal 
 to a force of the enemy outnumbering them six to 
 one. 
 
 The 1 2th they spent in the salient in reserve, and 
 on the 13th, Friday, they took their places in the 
 line and showed their temper to the Prussian guards- 
 men. 
 
 My shell-smashed radiator temporarily repaired, 
 and my chest better for a few days' doctoring, I 
 rejoined the Division on Friday evening, as it was 
 going into action. 
 
 The days required for the repair I had spent in 
 St. Omer, at G.H.Q. Rain fell unceasingly. The 
 work on the car was carried on in the open, regard- 
 less of the storm, the mechanics standing ankle deep 
 in a quagmire of ooze and mud. Efficient repair 
 seemed well-night impossible under such circum- 
 stances, though the men worked like Trojans. Oft- 
 entimes they toiled far into the night, for no matter 
 how diligently they strove, broken down cars sur- 
 rounded them in droves, their impatient drivers 
 clamouring ceaselessly. Poor Scott, the A.S.C. Cap- 
 tain in charge of the repair park, was vainly trying 
 to do the work of ten men. 
 
 Hieing to the cosy Cafe Vincent I delivered my- 
 self to the tender ministrations of a pretty auburn- 
 haired waitress, who had become the pet of junior 
 officers at General Headquarters. The soup was 
 
THE BATTLE IN THE SALIENT 327 
 
 excellent, and then came sardines. Heavens, was I 
 never to escape them ! Sardines, alternated with 
 their more lowly blodo-brethren maqnereaux, had 
 dogged our footsteps for months. Even in the most 
 opulent hostelry in St. Omer they followed me re- 
 lentlessly. 
 
 After a careful search of the town I found a yard 
 stick marked with inches, the property of a local 
 draper. From it I made a tape measure. With a 
 friend's assistance careful fiures were compiled and 
 despatched to my London tailor. A winter uniform 
 was a necessity. Aghast at such a falling off in my 
 ample proportions, the man of scissors and thread 
 in London town obey my behests. A month later 
 the new clothes arrived. To my horror they were 
 so small I could not get into them. Reasearch 
 showed the St. Omer yardstick to have been a de- 
 lusion and a snare. Its inches were marked for 
 profit, not for accuracy. 
 
 An evening in the Hotel du Commerce at St. Omer 
 was great fun. Harry Dalmeny, Shea, Baker-Carr, 
 Hindlip, and kindred spirits gathered at dinner. 
 Marlborough was sometimes present. Jack Seely 
 discoursed at length on subjects concerning all and 
 sundry, Dalmeny ever joking him unmercifully. A 
 stranger whose ears caught the conversation would 
 have been shocked to hear Seely told that all ills of 
 the Army were due to rottenness of the administra- 
 tion of his office on the part of that Minister for 
 War who held the portfolio the year preceding the 
 outbreak of hostilities. But Seely was imperturba- 
 ble. Nothing ruffled him. Not even Dalmeny's oft- 
 told tale of Seely — " I am Colonel Seely. I have 
 been directed by the Commander-in-Chief to receive 
 
328 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 and impart information." This, according to Dal- 
 meny, was the invariable formula hurled at staff 
 officers dashing past in the heat of battle or in the 
 stress of frantic hurry at some critical moment of 
 the retreat. It was all good fun. Every man pres- 
 ent knew Seely as a very gallant officer. F. E. 
 Smith's languid sarcasm glanced off the hardened 
 front of this gay gathering like feathered shafts 
 from a coat of mail. Freddie Guest and Guy Brooke 
 were neither f them strangers to the party. 
 
 An unusually severe downpour made my depart- 
 ure from St. Omer for Ypres a wet business on Fri- 
 day, the 13th. I missed the comfort of a hood. A 
 new hood fr my car had been ordered from England, 
 but was to lie, mislaid, at Woolwich Arsenal for 
 many a long week. 
 
 Past Cassel on its hill-top, the road lined with 
 camions awaiting French reinforcements, soon to 
 disentrain from the south, I sped to Steenvoorde and 
 Poperinghe. A veritable nightmare, that run. Of 
 all the maddening road obstructions the Algerian 
 horse and cart column easily took first prize. 
 
 At Ppperinghe application to Headquarters of 
 Echelon B of Haig's Corps produced the informa- 
 tion that the 1st Cavalry Division was " somewhere 
 on the Menin road, east of Ypres." I was recom- 
 mended to " proceed through Ypres and push on 
 east a few miles, then enquire again." Cheerful! 
 
 A newly-fledged fleet of Red Cross ambulances 
 worked its way autocratically on toward my goal, 
 and I fell into its perturbed wake. At last, a block 
 —impassable. West of Ypres, at the railway-cross- 
 ing, traffic was banked up like a log-jam. French 
 horse-transport, side by side with ubiquitous Britisl 
 
THE BATTLE IN THE SALIENT 329 
 
 lorry drivers in considerable force, tried to forge 
 eastward over, aound, o between a column of 
 Frehcn cavalry and a Brigade of British field-guns, 
 which were pesistently disputing the right of way to 
 the west. French officers shouted orders to Eng- 
 lish gunners, who swore softly, while a British offi- 
 cer ploughed through the sticky mud and drench- 
 ing rain, urging reason on French cuirassiers, who 
 politely wondered what in the world he wanted. A 
 tired jehu behind the wheel of a lorry laughed loudly 
 as a flare showed a mud-plastered sergeant who had 
 lost the road, his footing, and his temper. At the 
 roar of merriment his woe-begone appearance pro- 
 duced, he let loose a searing blast of reproof that 
 was in itself a liberal education in expletive. The 
 driver's laugh subsided to a chuckle, then died in 
 wonder at the storm it had unwittingly raised. 
 
 Entranced, I watched the scene till I caught sight 
 of Major Macalpine-Leny, of the 1st Cavalry Divi- 
 sion Staff. Hailing him, I learned de Lisle's where- 
 abouts, and pushed on, when the block cleared, to 
 Division Headquarters on the outskirts of Ypres. 
 
 From Ypres the flash of guns showed through the 
 pitch dark of the rainy night in front, to left and to 
 right. German shells were falling in most unex- 
 pected quarters. No rule or reason seemed con- 
 nected with their arrival, save to make night hideous 
 with their din and chance a hit at bodies of troops 
 r transport moving in the night. 
 
 Howitzer shells exploding near at hand, momen- 
 tarily flashing from the blackness ahead, produce a 
 picturesque effect for all their terrifying detonations. 
 
 The 1st Corps units our Division relieved were 
 sadly cut to bits. One Battalion consisted of but 
 
33o FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 two officers and sixty men. Another had only one 
 officer left, and numbered less than two score all 
 told. We found a Brigade headquarters with a 
 major in command, whose brigade-major was a sub- 
 altern. 
 
 On all sides stories could be heard of terrible 
 slaughter inflicted on the enemy. The Guard had 
 come as if on parade, men said. WPhole regiments 
 had withered away under a stream of fire, and oth- 
 ers relentlessly advanced over their dead bodies as 
 if unmindful of their own certain fate. A gunner 
 told me one Battalion of the Prussians had broken 
 through our line and marched straight towards our 
 guns. Coming within one hundred yards of his bat- 
 tery, they had literally been blown back from the 
 very cannon's mouth, leaving 500 of their dead in 
 ghastly heaps to mark the limit of their bold ad- 
 vance. 
 
 I saw half a hundred prisoners, huddled in the 
 rain, examined by lantern-light. Fine, big men, 
 broad-shouldered and tall. They looked defiance on 
 their captors, as if to remind the hated English they 
 were German Guardsmen still, though their teeth 
 were drawn and their comrades littered the slopes 
 they had thought to win. 
 
 Haig's heroes were generous in their tales of 
 German bravery. Death held no terrors for the 
 Guard, they said. I was often reminded of this as, 
 the days wore on. The German line would surge up 
 to our trenches only to be swept away, the remnants 
 staggering back from the withering fire. Recovering 
 from the shock of the recoil, small detachments, 
 twos and threes, dozens, or perhaps a score, would 
 come trudging back where death was being dealt 
 
THE BATTLE IN THE SALIENT 331 
 
 out with lavish hand. Some marched boldly, more 
 came doggedly. Many were seen advancing with 
 an arm across their eyes. These futile manoeuvres, 
 always ending in the total annihilation of such a 
 group, were inexplicable until a captured German 
 officer gave the key. Men of some Battalions, he 
 said, ever remembered that their regiments had 
 never known and never could know retreat. Death, 
 yes, but not retirement. There was no place at the 
 rear for them, so they went on to join their fellow 
 comrades in a glorious death. 
 
 It was better so, from our standpoint. Every 
 dead German meant one less with whom to deal. 
 It may have been magnificent, though none but Prus- 
 sians would have called it war. 
 
 Haig's troops held men who never thought they 
 would have an active role in the Ypres fighting. 
 Cooks, orderlies, officers' servants, and transport 
 men were called into the line to reinforce the thin 
 Battalions. 
 
 I saw soldiers who had spent eighteen continuous 
 days and nights in the actual firing line without re- 
 spite or reprieve. No billets for them, save the 
 water and mud in the bottom of the trenches, to 
 which they were hanging by tooth and nail. Bearded, 
 unwashed, sometimes plagued with vermin, the few 
 who remained in that front line were a terrible 
 crew. 
 
 One of their officers, unshaven, unkempt and un- 
 believably dirty, told me the remnants of his com- 
 mand might be divided into three classes. One or 
 two had succumbed to the frightful physical strain 
 and were broken past all probable recovery. The 
 rest were sullen or fierce, according to temperament, 
 
332 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 equally to be dreaded as fighting units. Whether 
 they killed with a lustful joy, half-wildly, or with 
 the deadly matter-of-fact calm of desperate deter- 
 mination, killing had become the one paramount 
 business of the hour, and never ceased for long. 
 
 Such was the handful of bull-dog breed against 
 which five to one and even heavier odds of the 
 flower of the greatest Army in the world's history 
 threw itself in vain. 
 
 No more glorious achievement rests to the credit 
 of the British Army than that of Haig's sorely tried 
 ist Corps in the first battle of Ypres. 
 
 The fight was by no means over by the 13th. 
 For four days more the struggle was waged with 
 unvarying effort, on the part of the Germans, to 
 break through. 
 
 The early morning of Saturday, the 14th, gave 
 me my first sight of the destruction wrought in the 
 ancient Flemish city. Great cavities in the streets 
 and piles of debris, ever increasing in number, made 
 Ypres barely passable for motor traffic. The Menin 
 road was under constant shell fire, which made me 
 thankful that our Headquarters were on the Zon- 
 nebeke road, between Potijze and Verlorenhoek. A 
 room in a modest dwelling served as headquarters. 
 A stream of wounded soldiers, French and British, 
 rolled back towards Ypres. Ambulances passed and 
 repassed, crowded with shattered forms. They had 
 little room for a wounded man able to walk back to 
 a dressing station. 
 
 The British line crossed the Menin road about a 
 mile west of Gheluvelt. The irregular front fol- 
 lowed the eastern edge of the woods on both sides of 
 the road. The position was well " dug in," and 
 
THE BATTLE IN THE SALIENT 333 
 
 tunnels and underground rooms were scattered here 
 and there. 
 
 South of the highway, the opposing lines, a few 
 yards apart, ran through the grounds of the Haren- 
 thage Chateau. The Chateau was held by the 
 enemy. Our troops were in possession of the barn. 
 By a fierce attack during the morning the Germans 
 captured this barn, and we heard of the organiza- 
 tion of a night attack to regain it. 
 
 The salient was alive with French and English 
 batteries. The noise of their firing was ever with 
 us, augmented by a continual shower of enemy shells. 
 
 Sharp intermittent bursts of rain hourly spread a 
 thicker covering of slimly mud over the road sur- 
 faces. The temperature fell rapidly, and night 
 closed in cold and dreary. 
 
 The Northumberland Fusiliers made the attack 
 on the Herenthage Barn. It failed, and the officer 
 who led the assault was killed. A gunner officer 
 volunteered to wheel a field piece to within a couple 
 of hundred yards of the barn and smash it at 
 close range. Five shrapnel were hurled into the 
 stronghold, and a sergeant led the Northumberlands 
 a second time to the attack. This time the charge 
 was successful, and the position was won. The 
 shattered building was a shambles. In addition to 
 its defenders, it had contained a number of wounded 
 when the five shells came crashing through it. Not 
 a soul within its walls was left alive. 
 
 An effort to reach Ypres after dusk landed us in 
 a hopeless tangle on the Zonnebeke road. A col- 
 umn of Yeomanry transport, badly handled and 
 very badly driven, was the initial cause of the trou- 
 ble. The mud in the roadway was ankle to knee 
 
334 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 deep, and the ditch alongside full of black slime. 
 An R. E. lot from one direction and a long column 
 of French cavalry from the other added to the con- 
 fusion. One cuirassier became mired — his, horse 
 fell, and he disappeared beneath the mud in the dith. 
 The driver of a mess cart, who constantly reiterated 
 that he was of the " 'Erts," tipped his vehicle over 
 in the midst of the melee. Hours passed before the 
 tangled skein was unwound. A dozen shells had 
 fallen along that road a few hours before. A dozen 
 more would have caused trouble awful to contem- 
 plate had the German gunners known of the jam. 
 
 We dined to the accompaniment of bursting Black 
 Marias, though none fell nearer than a couple of 
 hundred yards from us. 
 
 Sunday brought a driving sleet. A run down the 
 Menin road and back found it so trn and smashed" 
 as to be practically impassable for a car. All day 
 shells traced its length from the trenches back to 
 Ypres. No man who traversed it in those days 
 finished his journey without wondering he had not 
 been hit. Hourly I " strafed " the respective shells 
 that had smashed my hood and screen. The sleet 
 made the work of driving bitterly cold. 
 
 Still the troops held back the German attacks, and 
 piled up their dead in front of our trench line. 
 
 Our own part of the line saw less fighting than 
 other sections that day. An attack by a party of 
 sixty or seventy of the enemy was pushed on as if 
 forced from the rear. One of our staff officers sug- 
 gested that the German commanders might find it 
 necessary to promulgate some sort of an attack each 
 day, no matter how small its area or how remote 
 
THE BATTLE IN THE SALIENT 335 
 
 its chances of success, " to provide the daily notes 
 for their official diaries." 
 
 Numbers of German dead lay close to our 
 trenches. An officer of the 4th D. G.'s was asked 
 why he didn't clear away one corpse that could be 
 reached by a bayonet from the trench. " Oh, sir," 
 the officer replied naively, " he is quite inoffensive." 
 
 Lord Cavan was almost a demi-god in the yes of 
 his devoted men, whose position adjoined ours. 
 What was left of the WPest Kents, Munsters, Gren- 
 adiers, Coldstreams, Irish Guards and London Scot- 
 tish were in Cavan's force. His personality had 
 figured largely in the stubborn defence of the line. 
 No words could paint his services in too glowing 
 colours. 
 
 The German snipers merited and soon gained our 
 full respect. From thirty to one hundred yards 
 from our line in their own trenches, or concealed 
 individaully in the wood, woe to the man who un- 
 duly exposed himself in front of them. Some of 
 them had notorious records. One at a point in front 
 of Cavan's force had hit nine West Kents, two Gren- 
 adiers and a Munster. None of our men could lo- 
 cate him. 
 
 Sniping at the Germans was most diverting work. 
 An officer of the 9th Lancers took out a trio of 
 sharpshooters, and in an hour was offered a target 
 at one hundred yards, which enabled his men to 
 V get " four of the enemy. 
 
 Monday one of our Brigades was in reserve. The 
 men busied themselves in more or less futile efforts 
 to dry out. The rain never ceased for long. 
 
 French troops arrived hourly, and the ferocity of 
 the German attacks seemed to wane somewhat. 
 
336 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 That night the ist Cavalry Brigade was relieved, 
 and sent back to billets in the Flemish farms north 
 of Caetre and Fletre. The next night, Wednesday 
 the 1 8th, the 2nd Brigade followed to billets in the 
 Mont des Cats-Berthen area. 
 
 The ground was white with snow. Incessant 
 rains had turned to freezing blizzards. The Prus- 
 sian Guard had failed, and the line had held. The 
 first battle of Ypres was finished. 
 
 The French troops took over the whole of the 
 Ypres salient. To the British Expeditionary Force 
 was assigned twenty miles of front, to be held by 
 four Infantry Corps. The ist Cavalry Division was 
 promised four days' rest before a few days in the 
 trenches in front of Kemmel. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE CHRISTMAS TRUCE 
 
 A simple, impressive ceremony took place at the 
 Mairie in St. Omer on November 16th. Lord Rob- 
 erts's death touched a very tender shord in all hearts 
 in France and Flanders. French and British, Eng- 
 lishmen and men of I$a did heartfelt homage that 
 cold, dull, dispiritig day when, the short service 
 over, the veteran General's body started on its last 
 journey homeward. 
 
 The sun burst through the lowering clouds as the 
 cortege was starting, and a brilljantly-hued rainbow 
 appeared for a few moments, its bright arch stand- 
 ing forth in sharp contrast against the black sky. 
 
 Its sudden coming and its almost as sudden dis- 
 appearance, as the funeral party filed out of the 
 bleak square, seemed timed supernaturally for the 
 occasion. 
 
 As the ist Cavalry Division was in billets, I had 
 come down to G.H.Q. for a new radiator, brought 
 out from England by Oscar Morrison, of the R.A.C. 
 Corps. I was glad to get it, for the repair of the 
 shell-smashed one had been a sad business. 
 
 Heavy snow set it. Sir John French was ill in bed 
 with cold, unofficially. On the 20th I paid a visit to 
 Hazebrouck to see the splendid Du Cros ambulance 
 convoy sent out by Arthur du Cros, M. P., and of- 
 ficered by two of his brothers. 
 
 The small light vehicles with canvas tops were 
 
 337 
 
338 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 just what we required at the front. My call was 
 made interesting by the enemy airmen, who dropped! 
 eight bombs on the town. Their total bag was one 
 poor civilian, an old man whose legs were blown off. 
 The following day O rejoined General de Lisle at 
 a chateau near St. Jan Cappel. 
 
 A crash when passing the hospital in Bailleul 
 caused a halt. Entering, I found an aeroplane bomb 
 had been dropped right in the hospital. A hall built 
 against the side of a church wall was filled with 
 thirty odd wounded, at eleven o'clock. A fleet of 
 ambulances came for them, and before 11.30 all had 
 been removed but two. Then the bomb came. The 
 room was frightfully smashed. Each f the two 
 wounded men was badly hurt, one being hit by eight 
 shrapnel bullets. Two hospital orderlies were in 
 the room, and though both were hit by splinters 
 neither was seriously injured. The airman who 
 dropped the bomb was pursued and captured by one 
 of our flyers. When told that one of his bombs 
 had smashed into a hospital he expressed great re- 
 gret, declaring he was aiming at the railway station. 
 
 On the night of Sunday, the 22nd, the troopers 
 of the 1 st Cavalry Division went into the trenches 
 in frot of Kemmel for a couple of days, after which' 
 they were promised a log rest. General de Lisle, 
 with four of his staff, took temporary headquarters 
 in a little dwelling in La Clytte, where he could be 
 close to the Division. 
 
 We were fortunate In being allotted a part of the 
 line where the Germans were using a very poor lot 
 of shells. At certairi points not one shell in ten was 
 really effective. Quite fifty per cent, of them failed 
 to explode. ■ * 
 
THE CHRISTMAS TRUCE 339 
 
 The weather was bitterly cold, with hard frost 
 each night. Our headquarters house showed a deep 
 religious fervour on the part of its owner. A cru- 
 cifix stood over the mantel of the main room, re- 
 ligious images of some size flanked it, and deep col- 
 oured prints of sacred subjects adorned the walls. 
 
 The 2nd Cavalry Brigade, numbering 600 rifles, 
 went into the trenches at dark, joining the 1st Cav- 
 alry Brigade and relieving the 6th Cavalry Brigade. 
 Approaching Kemmel by the light of the thin cres- 
 cent moon, the snow-covered fields showed black 
 patches on either side where rows of horses waited 
 for their riders to come from the trenches. I 
 bumped into a huge shell hole in the darkness. By 
 great good fortune I had fallen into its edge and 
 nit its deep centre. Gun flashes from all sides, and 
 in front a blazing farm, gave a touch of colour to 
 the picture. In the distance the sky was alight where 
 the old Cloth Hall in Ypres was burning. 
 
 For a couple of hours the "taking over" pro- 
 ceeded steadily and without the least excitement. 
 Some few wounded, hit by itinerant snipers, were 
 helped back, but for the most part the change was 
 made with clock-work regularity and in a deep si- 
 lence born of long experience. 
 
 As the 3rd Hussars,, coming out, passed the 9th 
 Lancers, going up, low-voiced greetings were ex- 
 changed. 
 
 " Nothing much going on up front," said a big 
 trooper, " bar snipers." 
 
 "How's Nobby?" queried an acquaintance. 
 
 "Nobby?" came the low reply. "Oh, Nobby. 
 'E stopped one. But not proper — only with his 
 
 / 
 
34Q FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 'and." And he trudged on into the snow-rimmed 
 blackness. 
 
 Everybody was cheery. 
 
 Cold, dark, but dry, the night wore on. 
 
 " It's warmer in the trenches," said the departing 
 ones. "Plenty hay; not half bad." 
 
 Food went up and ammunitinn. All as orderly 
 as such events can be when every many knows his 
 job and sets about it silently and seriously. 
 
 The General strolled up, walking first here, then 
 there, seeing that the detail of the work was being 
 carried out efficiently. 
 
 All the while the sniping went on merrily. The 
 bark of the rifles near by was given an added sharp- 
 ness by the cold, tingling atmosphere. Our field 
 guns not far away fired at regular intervals. 
 
 At last we were " in " and our predecessors " out." 
 
 I slept in La Clytte. I chose a very soiled mat- 
 tress close to the diminutive but energetic stove. 
 Cecil Howard was condemned to a bed much too 
 short for him, to which he attributed a powerful 
 and persistent nightmare. The quarters were far 
 from luxurious, but we soon dropped to slee to the 
 sound of the everlasting sniping, which kept up all 
 the night trough. 
 
 The world was hidden in a mantle of, hoard frost 
 in the morning. A bottle of Vichy in a suit-case in 
 the tonneau of my car was frozen solid. 
 
 We ran to Kemmel, and walked from there to- 
 wards the trench line. General Briggs was indig- 
 nantly bemoaning the stupidity of his chauffeur, who 
 had covered the engine of his car with straw and 
 in some way set it afire when starting in the morn- 
 
THE CHRISTMAS TRUCE 341 
 
 ing. Result, car burned! Most drivers kept their 
 cars in going order by a liberal mixture of methy- 
 lated spirit with the water in the radiator — an ex- 
 cellent wheeze. 
 
 Tramping the white fields was inviting trouble 
 with snipers. I returned to Brigade Headquarters, 
 and gossiped about the new rifle grenades. Our 
 hand grenades were very effective — much more so, 
 we thought, than those of the enemy. The latest 
 German device was a big valise-like thing, thrown 
 by some means unknown, that came hurtling end 
 over end and lay before exploding for two or three 
 seconds after its arrival. The noise it made " beat 
 a Black Maria hollow," a trooper said. The smoke 
 from one of these projectiles lay and drifted low 
 in great clouds. Its energy seemed wasted, however, 
 for while it tore a great hole in the earth it appar- 
 ently scattered no pieces of projectile about. At 
 least that was the verdict of those who had close ac- 
 quaintance of it. 
 
 A German prisoner had a rare fairy tale for us. 
 He reported eight cases of self-mutilation in his 
 company, the strength of which had been reduced 
 to fifty-six. After hearing his talk one might im- 
 agine that all Germans would soon be on strike 
 against further warfare. His efforts to retail wek 
 come information were unfortunately a bit over- 
 done, particularly when one knew of a fierce Ger- 
 man attack on Hollebeke the day before. But he 
 meant well. 
 
 At mid-forenoon the quiet of La Clytte was shat- 
 tered by eight German howitzer shells. One fell 
 thirty yards short of our house, showering pieces of 
 shell in the front yard. Another lit across the road. 
 
342 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 Not far from us a woman was beheaded and an old 
 man killed. 
 
 A few minutes before the shelling, Major Steele, 
 our Divisional R.A.M.C. officer, and Baron Le 
 Jeune, our French laison officer had called. Le 
 Jeune came to obtain the General's signature to a 
 permit for a few days' leave. News spread that 
 seventy-two hours in London was forthcoming for 
 all of us in turn, whereat was great rejoicing. Let 
 Jeune told me his little boy had been brought by his 
 mother to Paris, where the Baron was to join them 
 on the morrow. Everyone was happy in anticipation 
 of soon seeing the loved ones at home. Gay quips 
 and cheery laughter were on every lip. 
 
 Shortly after the brief shelling, Major Davidson, 
 of the R.A.M.C, came in and told us that one of 
 the shells had lit a few yards down the street, at the 
 crossroads, where General Short, of the Artillery, 
 has his headquarters. One of his staff looked out of 
 the door to see where the shell had struck. Lying 
 in the roadway were the still bodies of Major Steele 
 and Let June, who had been passing at the moment 
 the shell came. Poor Steele's left arm and shoul- 
 der were shattered, and he was badly wounded in 
 the side and leg. Le June was suffering horribly 
 from a piece of shell that had torn its way through 
 his body. Another bit of the shell had made a hole 
 in his head. Both of them died — Steele on his way 
 to the hospital, and Le Jeune soon after his arrival 
 there. 
 
 Colonel Home, Hardress Lloyd and " Mouse " 
 ~Tompkinson were starting for England, on leave, 
 the day following. We had all bee " bucking " about 
 our " last day under shell-fire for a bit." Such hard 
 
THE CHRISTMAS TRUCE 343 
 
 luck for Steele, a greatly beloved and very gallant 
 chap, and poor Le Jeune made everybody quiet. 
 
 More shells came in the afternoon. Towards 
 evening we started for " home " at St. Jan Cappel. 
 As we stepped into the car a shell screamed through 
 the air and landed with a loud bang just in front of 
 us. One last Black Maria had " come over " only a 
 few yards above our heads, and sent up a high 
 column of dirt and smoke from the corner of a field 
 fifty yards distant. It was in perfect line. 
 
 The seconds dragged by with leaden feet until the 
 General's order came to " let her go." Our way led 
 down the street to the crossroads, where our two 
 friends had been killed a few hours before, then left 
 to Reninghelst. Number two was overdue, I 
 thought, as I gathered speed. I took the corner 
 on two wheels, and Home sung out from the back 
 seat as we left La Clytte behind: " Those are my 
 sentiments, too, President." 
 
 That evening in Bailleul a Flying Corps officer 
 told me a story of one of his airmen, named Blount. 
 Blount was sent o a prosaic daily air reconnaissance. 
 He duly returned, entered the office of his chief, and 
 reported so many trains here, so many there, a col- 
 umn on this road, that road clear, and so on, as usual. 
 Nothing seemed out of the ordinary in his story, or 
 his manner of telling it. 
 
 As he turned to leave the room he said, " Coming 
 back, I had a bit of a brush with a Bosche flyer." 
 
 " Hold on," called out the officer to whom he was 
 reporting, "don't run off. What happened?" 
 
 " He was killed, sir," was the laconic reply, and 
 the airman opened the door. 
 
 " Wait," said the fficer. Then, as he noticed 
 
344 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 blood dripping from one of Blount's hands, " What's 
 the mater with your hand? " 
 
 " Oh, nothing much," Blount answered modestly. 
 " The German chap got me with one shot and took 
 off the end of a finger." The two upper joints were 
 gone; " I am going to have it wrapped up." And 
 with that he departed, as if glad to escape from the 
 necessity of giving further details. 
 
 The encounter had taken place over Bailleul, in 
 good view f the aero sheds not far from the town. 
 It caused immense excitement and enthusiasm, and 
 the officer found no difficulty in gathering a much 
 more complete story from Blount's fellows. 
 
 Blount discovered the enemy airman when return 1 
 ing from the reconnaissance, and at once gave him 
 battle. A very pretty figh^ensued. Gradually Blount 
 mounted higher and higher, until he was above his 
 antagonist. Then circling round and round the Ger- 
 man, both firing all the time, Blount forced him 
 lower and lower. At last, just before the German 
 came to earth, one of Blount's bullets found its 
 mark, and the enemy airman fell over and crashed 
 to the ground with the ruins of his machine. 
 
 The coveted seventy-two hours' came at last. 
 Three days at home at the end of November soon 
 passed, and on our return we took up headquarters 
 at a chateau between St. Omer and Cassel, some 
 miles from the groups of farms and one or two vil- 
 lages in which the Division was billeted for the win- 
 ter. 
 
 On December 3rd the Division was visited by His 
 Majesty the King. The mounted troopers, swing- 
 ing swords in high circles and cheering strenuously, 
 
THE CHRISTMAS TRUCE 345 
 
 made a fine sight as the King walked down the road 
 between the lines of horsemen. 
 
 The next day I encountered a friend in sombre 
 mood. " What's wrong with you?" I queried. 
 
 "I am just back from a jaunt with a batch of 
 newly-arrived subalterns, who were turned over to 
 me for map instruction," he said gloomily. " I dare- 
 say they are all right, but sme of them are wonders. 
 One of the cheerful idiots couldn't find a stream I 
 pointed out to him, and after muddling along a bit, 
 burbled out : ' Why, I thought all the rivers on a 
 map ran north and south.' " 
 
 The days passed quickly. Shooting parties were 
 formed and a steeplechase organised. Evenings 
 found us frequently battling over chess or draughts. 
 
 The casualties for the Division to December 1st 
 had been 1,544. The Queen's Bays, 5th Dragoon 
 Guards, and 18th Hussars had lost over 200 each, 
 the nth Hussars nearly 250, the 9th Lancers 288, 
 and the 4th Dragoon Guards 323. New drafts were 
 daily arriving, and the regiments busying themselves 
 getting the fresh men into shape. Continual exer- 
 cise kept horses and men fit, everyone spending much 
 time in the saddle — from the General himself to the 
 troopers. 
 
 Every man in the trenches means three to five 
 men behind the line. An army " resting " finds it- 
 self well occupied if the enemy still faces it. The 
 actual " business " of an army teems with detail. A 
 Divisional headquarters receives 700 letters and 
 communications per day at times. Every other day 
 de Lisle " did the rounds " of the Brigades. Many 
 days I was left to my own devices. Permission to 
 visit friends of other units was sometimes granted. 
 
346 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 On a trip to Armentieres, I heard the following 
 story: — The town was lighted by electricity gen- 
 erated in Lille. For three weeks after the occupa- 
 tion of Armentieres by our troops they found their 
 use of the electric light uninterrupted. At last the 
 Germans in Lille discovered that " their " town's 
 supply plant was supplying the " juice " for lighting 
 " our " town, and they forthwith put a stop to it. 
 Some of our officers in Armentieres, who chortled 
 over the unique situation, suggested that a message 
 should be sent to the Huns, asking for the bill for 
 electric current. 
 
 Young Von Tirpitz, son of his notorious father, 
 was taken prisoner, said a gossip in Armentieres. 
 The youthful Von T. tried to escape. Discovered 
 and baulked, he found that his guard became increas- 
 ingly attentive. Baffled and angry, minor restrictions 
 goaded him to frenzy. Forgetting himself, he spat 
 in the sentry's face. 
 
 The guard was a Jock of considerable propor- 
 tions. He stared a moment, then quietly laid his 
 rifle by his side, unbucvkled and took off his accou- 
 trements and gear, and spat on his hands. For a 
 few minutes thereafter, the fur flew, or, at least, von 
 Tirpitz's fur would have flown, if he had been a fur- 
 bearing animal. The Jock was intent on giving the 
 scion of the noble house of T. a severe lesson. 
 Young Germany was inclined to show fight, but was 
 promptly thrashed soundly, and finished off with a 
 belting — his own belt being used for the purpose. 
 As a fellow- Jock, a spectator, said, " Man, it was 
 a noble beating." 
 
 Well castigated, but by no means injured, young 
 Von Tirpitz was sufficiently an ass to report the oc- 
 
THE CHRISTMAS TRUCE 347 
 
 currence and demand reprisals. The sentry was, of 
 course, court-martialled. The full facts were laid 
 bare. The sentence was given sonorously. " Twen- 
 ty-four hours' imprisonment for laying aside your 
 arms while on sentry go," was the penalty. 
 
 Such yarns were typical, and, if not always true, 
 were entertaining. 
 
 A jaunt in the Ploegstreet Wood was a muddy 
 experience. I was told to leave my car behind a 
 house in the village and walk to the point where the 
 corduroy pathway led away through the trees. 
 Winding in and out of the southern edge of the 
 wood were the trenches. All about were broken 
 and splintered branches and tree trunks — a wierd 
 place. Various paths were placarded with such 
 names as Regent Street, Oxford Street, Piccadilly 
 Circus, Hunter Lane, etc. The Tommies in the 
 trench line were knee-deep in water. Men passed 
 rearward plastered in mud. An officer told me a 
 Tommy's overcoat, weighed in the village, had 
 tipped the scale at forty-five pounds on his return to 
 billets after forty-eight hours' trench duty! Withal, 
 every man was cheerful. As an observing friend re- 
 marked to me, " You can't beat these soldiers. No 
 amount of hammering, casualty, or hardship seems 
 to affect their splendid spirit in the least." 
 
 I asked this friend what impressed him as of 
 greatest interest in the trench-warfare. He replied, 
 " The wonderful assortment of shells and projec- 
 tiles one sees." 
 
 At tea time one day I found the regimental cen- 
 sor hard at work over the letters of a yeomanry 
 squadron. 
 
 " Hear this," he said. He read at length from an 
 
348 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 interesting letter written under shell fire, in the 
 trenches. " Mother," it commenced, " you could 
 not imagine the noise. Bang! There came one only 
 a matter of feet from me. Shells are bursting every 
 second, and pieces are flying all about." After a 
 page or so of detailed excitement, the writer drew a 
 line, then added an explanatory note to say that at 
 the point indicated he had been bowled over by a 
 huge Black Maria, but had miraculously escaped a 
 wound. 
 
 " Very good," was my cmment. " Writes jolly 
 well for a trooper, desn't he?" 
 
 " Yes," agreed the officer who was acting as cen- 
 sor, " but he's a farrier who hasn't been within three 
 miles of the line. If he has heard a shell, it's been 
 a long way off. He was mad all through because he 
 couldn't go up with the regiment, which is in the 
 trenches now. So he has taken it out in espitolary 
 zeal. It's pure imagination. What am I to do 
 wit it? " 
 
 " Pass it," cried the mess in chorus. " It will do 
 no harm." 
 
 So pass it he did. 
 
 A couple of months later he showed me a soiled 
 clipping from a Midland newspaper. A glance at 
 the well-fingered excerpt showed it to be a verbatim 
 reproduction of the farrier's letter. " The best joke 
 is that he keeps the good work up," said the yeo- 
 man. " Not a week passes he doesn't curdle the 
 blood f the old folks at home with some yarn. We 
 quite look forward to 'em. The paper fairly eats 
 em. 
 
 An epidemic of stories of distress in Germany 
 ran through the army: English interned who scrib- 
 
THE CHRISTMAS TRUCE 349 
 
 bled: " Food scarce; panic here," and hid the mes- 
 sage with a postage stamp; veiled hints of food 
 shrtage in letters from German residents ; tales from 
 neutrals of hard conditions; reports that placards 
 were put up in the streets of Berlin at night bearing 
 such legends as: " Stop the War," and so on ad in- 
 finitum. 
 
 Anything in the way of cherry news or a hopeful 
 report spread like wild fire. A pessimist seldom got 
 a hearing. 
 
 Water in the trenches and the cold spell made for 
 bad feet. I saw whole detachments whose feet were 
 so swollen after their turn in the front line that a 
 couple of days without boots was an absolute neces- 
 sity. 
 
 The general health, bar feet, of the whole Army 
 was exceptionally good, in spite f the conditions. 
 This was due to the inoculation of enteric, wisely 
 made compulsory. No sensible man who spent that 
 winter in Flanders and who kept his eyes open would 
 declaim against inoculation. 
 
 On December 14th the Division stood by in re- 
 serve while an infantry attack was launched on the 
 German position in front of Wytschaete. The 8th 
 Infantry Brigade and some French troops on its 
 left made the sally. We paid about 500 casualties 
 for an advance of about 500 yards in one little wood. 
 The ground would not allow of a really successful 
 offensive. After the men had gone a hundred yards 
 across a field each foot was so caked with mud 
 progress was impossible. 
 
 As December passed the " nibbling " continued. 
 The Lahore Division at Givenchy, the Warwick- 
 shires at Bas Maisnil, the nth Brigade at Ploeg- 
 
350 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 street, the French at Notre Dame de Lorette on 
 the south, and Pilkeim on the north of us, all re- 
 ported minor gains. The official summaries re- 
 counted 'slow progress, thick fog and hard frost 
 from day to day. 
 
 Gun-fire was held down by limiting the rounds 
 allowed each gun for each day, and units in the 
 trenches made a report of the rounds of small arm 
 ammunition used. 
 
 On December 19th the Indian corps at Givenchy 
 had a nasty time. The Indian line from north to 
 south was composed of the Garhwal Brigade, Deh- 
 radun Brigade, Sirhind Brigade and Ferozepore Bri- 
 gade. 
 
 The trouble started on the morning of the 19th, 
 when the Garhwal -Brigade made an attack. It cap- 
 tured about 360 yards of the German first-line 
 trenches, but was promptly bombed out and forced 
 to avacuate what it. had won. The Dehradun Bri- 
 gade left its trenches, and, though the Sirhind and 
 Ferozepore Brigades nad advanced in the general 
 forward movement, they were compelled almost at 
 once to retire. A portion of the Dehradun front, 
 the whole of the Sirhind front, and most of the 
 Ferozepore front, together with the village of 
 Givenchy, were soon in the hands of the enemy. 
 
 On the 20th heavy shell fire began at daybreak. 
 The Sirhind Brigade fell back to Festubert, and it 
 seemed that Givenchy Was hopelessly lost. Finally 
 Givenchy was recaptured by the Manchesters and 
 the Suffolks. The remainder of the Corps reserve 
 was moved up, and counter-attacks organised fever- 
 ishly. In spite of all efforts the front of the Meerut 
 
THE CHRISTMAS TRUCE 351, 
 
 Division was broken, and the Black Watch and the 
 58th Rifles were sent to its aid. 
 
 The next day the whole the 1st Division was hard 
 at it retaking Festubert and Givenchy, a task which 
 they eventually accomplished. 
 
 So much for the bare outline of a story that was 
 told in almost as many ways as there were men en- 
 gaged in the fighting. 
 
 I visited the Festubert area to gain some first hand 
 knowledge of what had transpired. I learned that 
 the Indians had fought much better than the bare 
 accounts would indicate. 
 
 The trenches in that sector were full of mud and 
 water. One officer I met had discovered in the 
 thick of the fighting that of a hundred rifles in his 
 trench but three were sufficiently free from mud to 
 be usable. 
 
 Another officer told me his men had exhausted 
 their ammunition. A box of ammunition arrived. 
 The men carrying it were jarred by a howitzer shell 
 that fell a few yards away just as they reached the 
 trench. They dropped the heavy box into the trench 
 with a splash and straightway it sunk many feet into 
 the -soft ooze and mud, all efforts at its recovery 
 seemingly only serving to immerse it more deeply. 
 
 The awful conditions of the ground and of the 
 trenches out of which the Indian troops were driven 
 were largely responsible for their initial repulse. 
 They counter-attacked well, and in most instances 
 gained their objective. Unaccustomed to the all- 
 important work of immediate consolidation of art 
 enemy position, they were much harder to withstand 
 when charging than to dislodge by bombing after 
 the completion of the actual attack. 
 
352 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 From close questioning in various quarters and 
 quite a general survey of the locality, I became con- 
 vinced that the Indians worked at great disadvan- 
 tage when so scattered, and particularly when the 
 Brigade Staffs were so far from the front line. 
 
 If one point could be selected for criticism it 
 would, to my mind, be the faulty Staff work, owing 
 in great measure to the much too great distance of 
 the commands from the various Staff Headquarters. 
 
 The loss of their line was a sore disappointment 
 to the poor Indians, wh had been rendered unbeliev- 
 ably miserable previously by the awful weather and 
 unusual climatic conditions. No criticism could pos- 
 sibly be launched at their valour. That they re- 
 quired more and closer supervision in such a kind of 
 warfare was as undeniable as it was to be expected 
 on the first place. 
 
 Christmastide found the British Army becoming 
 accustomed to the stagnation of a winter campaign 
 in sodden Flanders. 
 
 On Christmas Eve, at midnight, the Germans in 
 the trenches in front of the Ploegstreet Wood began 
 to sing Christmas songs in chorus. The Somersets 
 faced them."* Some of the Somersets were old ac- 
 quaintances of mine. Theirs was the first infantry 
 command, with the Inniskillings and the Rifle Bri- 
 gade, to arrive at the Ploegstreet Wood in the au- 
 tumn, whern the ist Cavalry Division was fighting 
 hard to hold the position. 
 
 A couple of Somerset bandsmen, who had left 
 their instruments in England and were assigned to 
 stretcher-gearing, told me a day or so after Christ- 
 mas what occurred at Poloegstreet on Christmas 
 Day. 
 
THE CHRISTMAS TRUCE 353 
 
 The Saxon Christmas songs of the night before 
 had odd results. 
 
 '•' The songs was fine," one of my informants de- 
 clared. " They sang a lot. But the best was to 
 come. A German bloke had a cornet, and he could 
 play it grand. He just made it talk. The songs and 
 the tunes the cornet feller played seemed more and 
 more like ones we knew. Some of the songs I could 
 hav sung myself. At last out came that cornet with 
 ' Home, Sweet Home,' and nobody could keep still. 
 We all sang — Huns, English and all." 
 
 The night spent in song produced a general peace- 
 fulness of spirit all round. As day broke the Som- 
 ersets saw the Saxons on top of their trenches. 
 Soon they called ut, '• Come over and visit us, we 
 are Saxons." No shots were fired. 
 
 " None of our chaps started for the German 
 trenches," continued the bandsman. " We had 
 heard all about the white flags the Bosches had fired 
 from under and all that. But our medical orfficer 
 is a funny cove, and he got an idea in his head that 
 started the whole thing, e said he saw a chance to 
 to give a burial to some of our dead that had been 
 lyin' between trenches no end of a while. 
 
 "So he told me and my pal here to follow him, 
 and afore we knew where he was goin', up he pops 
 on the trench parapet. The Bosche trenches was 
 only fifty to seventy yards in front, and up we had 
 to get and over after the doctor. The Saxons was 
 right there, in plain sight. I never sweat so, nor 
 never did my pal here. We was sure there was a 
 game on, and we would get it good as soon as we 
 was well out of cover. Some of our dead had laid 
 out there for eight or ten weeks, and was in a 
 
354 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 awful state. We picked up a Inniskillin orfficer, a 
 captain, and got hi on a stretcher — a big job— and 
 got him back all right. No one fired a single shot. 
 
 " So out that doctor sends us again. We got 
 over near the Bosche trench and up jumps a stocky 
 little heavy-set German orfficer with a bushy black 
 beard. 
 
 " He steps forward and says rough-like, with a 
 scowl like he was goin' to eat us, ' Get back to your 
 trenches, we have had quite enough of you. Get 
 back there at once.' 
 
 " He spoke English all right, he did. We didn't 
 need no interpreter for him. His looks went with 
 what he said, too. We went all right. And I won't 
 forget goin', not in this 'ere life, you can bet. That 
 few yards seemd a sinful long way. Every step I 
 thought ' Now I'll get it, right in the back,' but I 
 didn't. 
 
 " We got into our trench right by our major in 
 command, and told him what old whiskers had said 
 and how he said it. All the major said was, ' I 
 didn't think they would really let us get our dead. 
 I'm not surprised.' 
 
 " But that little trip of the doctor's had fair 
 started it. Half an hour later I could see some of 
 our lads on our right going right over to the Bosches 
 in the open. The mapor saw 'em too. When he 
 got 'em in his eye he said, ' You can go on now, you 
 men, and get some more of those dead in.' 
 
 " We went. We never saw the black-bearded 
 chap any more, either. One of the Saxon fellers 
 who spoke pretty good English sung out and said 
 we could go right on with what we were doin'. He 
 said all of us could bury dead till four o'clock, and 
 
THE CHRISTMAS TRUCE 355 
 
 they would, too. And sue enough they did get at it 
 pretty soon afterward. 
 
 " Of curse with us all kicking round each other 
 out there in the open, lots of chaps got to talkin'. 
 The Saxons was friendly enough. 
 
 " One chap said to me, ' You Anglo-Saxons, we 
 Saxons. We not want to fight you.' 
 
 " I thought I'd land him one, so I said ' What 
 about the Kayser, then, old lad? What do you 
 think of Mr. Kayser, eh?" 
 
 " ' Bring him here, and we'll shoot him for you,' 
 said the Saxon feller, and we all laughed. 
 
 * But I didn't take no stock of that. I knew he 
 was only trying to be pleasant. 
 
 " Some of our chaps changed cigars and cigarettes 
 with them Hus, and had talks about all sorts of 
 things. At four o'clock we all took cover on both 
 sides, but there was no firing on our front that night. 
 The next morning we kept up the callin' business. 
 W<^e didn't stop it for a matter of eight days. 
 
 " Then the Saxons was relieved by the Bavarians. 
 The Saxons warned us agin them Bavarians. 
 
 " One of the Saxon blokes said to one of our 
 sergeants, ' Saxons do not like Bavarians. Shoot 
 them like hell.' 
 
 1 There was,ne Saxon chap, off a bit to our left, 
 1 heard one of our lot tell about that wouldn't have 
 no truce. He was in front of the Rifle Brigade. He 
 kept hammerin' away all through the piece, no mat- 
 ter what the Saxon chaps in front of us did." 
 
 An exchange of rations was a frequent occur- 
 rence during that remarkable period. Both sides 
 agreed that tinned " bully " had no serious rival. 
 
 " Would the men who made friends with the 
 
356 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 Saxons fight them as hard afterwards?" I asked. 
 
 " Sure," was the reply. " If our chaps got a 
 chance to put the bayonet home in one of those fel- 
 lers, there wouldn't be no difference in the way they 
 would do the job. All the first moves come from 
 them, not from us. They even said they would fire 
 high if they got orders to fire on us. We didn't make 
 no such foolish promise. 
 
 " Our lot wanted to see the German trenches bad. 
 They wouldn't let us right in, but we saw a lot and 
 learned a lot. We could get right up to their wire, 
 which was no end better than ours. But it ain't 
 now. Wait till they try goin' against our wire, and 
 they will find we learned a thing or two." And the 
 little group chuckled in anicipation. 
 
 The most amusing conclusion to this Christmas 
 truce in its various phases here and there along the 
 facing lines of trenches, was the trio of severe orders 
 promulgated from three high Headquarters. 
 
 Sir John French's order was short and sharp, but 
 very much to the point. It expressed great displeas- 
 ure at such carryings-on. 
 
 General Joffre issued an order not a whit less se- 
 vere in condemnation of such tendencies. 
 
 But fiercest of all, and threatening direst penal- 
 ties, was the order issued by the Kaiser. 
 
 That all three orders were necessary might give 
 food for thought to psychologists. 
 
 That they were issued should, in kindness, have 
 been told to Henry Ford. 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 Lieutenant A. Gallagher, of the 4th Dragoon 
 Guards, affectionately dubbed Golliwog by his mess- 
 mates, had a mad Irish experience at Audregnies. 
 
 More than once he told me details of it, the last 
 time while he was convalescing from a second shell 
 wound in the head received in front of Ypres long 
 after the retreat. 
 
 " We were watering in Audregnies when the or- 
 der came to mount and charge," said Gallagher. 
 " I was at the head of the second squadron. It was 
 quiet enough before that. We were dismounted in 
 the village street, watering from buckets wherever 
 we could find one. We jumped into our saddles and 
 tore off down a narrow lane without in the least 
 knowing where we were going or what was up. The 
 dust was thick, so thick one could hardly see the man 
 in front. 
 
 " We went off in a rush all right, and rode down 
 that choking lane with no other thought than keep- 
 ing going. We had no order to draw sabres, and 
 just galloped in a bunch. Before we had reached 
 the end of the lane men began to fall. The bullets 
 were coming from in front and seemingly from one 
 flank as well. More men fell, but we couldn't do 
 anything save gallop. At the end the lane curved 
 round a cottage to the right. I remember seeing 
 Colonel Mullins, and Major Solly Flood beside him, 
 at the turn. Mullins cried, ' Not there — not there ! ' 
 but it conveyed no meaning to me. We dashed on 
 
 357 
 
358 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 after the leading squadron round the corner and 
 into a very inferno of shell and small-arm fire. It 
 was hot. No time to wonder what was doing. 
 Shrapnel was bursting right in amonst us and men 
 falling every inch of the way, it seemed. Not far 
 beyond the corner I saw a flash which seemed right 
 in front of my eyes, and my horse went down. 
 
 " When I came round I was lying on my right 
 side, with one leg under my dead horse. My head 
 was bad. Alongside me was a French officer who 
 had been attached to us — a Count, someone said. 
 He was dead A bullet had hit him right in the cen- 
 tre of the forehead. 
 
 " All was quiet for a moment. Dead and 
 , wounded lay all around, and everything seemed 
 strangely still. Down the lane I saw Major Tom 
 Bridges ride out into view. He stopped, shaded his 
 eyes with one hand, and gazed about oddly. The 
 Germans saw him and opened fire on him, the bul- 
 lets singing by him as he turned and galloped away 
 to safety. Months afterwards I learned that he 
 had been hit in the head during the charge, stunned, 
 and taken into a cottage. The Germans came in 
 the front door as he regained cnsciousness. They 
 were a bit too late, fr he jumped out of the window 
 as they came in the door of the room in which he 
 had been lying. He found a horse, mounted hastily, 
 and after finding which way the enemy bullets were 
 coming, made off in the opposite direction and es- 
 caped without a further scratch. 
 
 " I struggled out from under my horse and tried 
 to run towards the point where Bridges had disap- 
 peared, but my leg was so numbed and sore I fell. 
 Another attempt resulted in another fall, so I 
 
APPENDIX 359 
 
 crawled on my hands and knees to the nearest shel- 
 ter, a cowshed by the lane. Creeping inside, I found 
 a wounded French interpreter and two wounded 
 troopers. The shell fire began again and rifle bul- 
 lets whizzed all about. One of the cows in the shed 
 was hit in the back by a bullet, and with a startled 
 effort broke the chain by which it was tied and 
 rushed out. 
 
 " A moment later a German officer and two Ger- 
 man soldiers with bayonets on rifles came through 
 the doorway. In the fficer's hand was a tiny pop- 
 gun of a pistol, which he kept pointed at each of the 
 four of us as he went from one to the other. Reach- 
 ing my corner, he stooped and relieved me of my re- 
 volver and my map case, the latter containing a note- 
 book in which were an entry r two that I knew would 
 hold his big round blue eyes. Running through my 
 pockets, he came to a sovereign purse with seven 
 sovereigns in it. This he tucked back in the pocket 
 of my tunic, then stepped out the door to examine 
 my notebook in the fading light. The mment his 
 attention was well engaged, one of the German sol- 
 diers lost no time in extracting the sovereign-case 
 and its contents from my pocket in a manner that 
 left no suspicion in my mind that he itended replac- 
 igit. 
 
 u A squad of fifteen or sixteen wounded prisoners 
 —mostly cavalry troopers or Cheshire Tommies — 
 were marched up from an adjacent house, hands in 
 air. As they reached the door one man fell, a bul- 
 let through his arm — maybe a chance shot. I saw 
 Sergeant Hynes of my regiment in this lot. He told 
 me that in the house where he had been lying with 
 a broken rib or two, injuries received when his horse 
 
3 6o FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 fell sorely wounded in the lane, a Belgian woman 
 had become incurably hysterical that the wounded 
 men had put a sack over her head to keep her quiet. 
 They hoped against hope to escape discovery. The 
 Germans found them in due course and liberated the 
 frantic woman, who ran screaming down the lane, 
 only to fall from a German bullet before she had 
 gone far. 
 
 " A cook-wagon came up. After methodically 
 milking the cow standing near, the Germans killed 
 her her, cut her up, and consigned her to the pot, 
 foragers contributing turnips in profusion from the 
 field hard by. Two great stacks of hay across the 
 lane from us were lit at dark. The Germans threw 
 British rifles and saddles on the blazing piles, with 
 the result that a merry popping of small-arm am- 
 munition commenced, bullets whizzing in all direc- 
 tions. At first our captors scattered, leaving us lying 
 well in the line of fire, but soon they returned and 
 shortly produced plentiful supplies of red and white 
 wine. As the wine passed round they danced about 
 the burning stacks to the music of a couple of ac- 
 cordions, a weird slight in the fitful light. 
 
 " On the arrival of an officer the hilarity subsided. 
 The slightly injured British soldiers were marched 
 off to collect the dead and wounded, friend and foe. 
 The more serious cases were taken to the convent 
 in the village. The sergeant and myself were the 
 last two to be moved. I was carried on the shed 
 door. Befre I was taken away, the German officer, 
 who spoke no English, came over to where I lay 
 and gave me first a drink of water, then a drink of 
 milk. Stiffly and awkwardly, he reached down and 
 shook me by the hand as he departed. I never saw 
 
APPENDIX 361 
 
 him again. Not a bad sort, I suppose. Meant well 
 probably. 
 
 " Sergeant Hynes had fared worse. One of his 
 arms was black and blue from the blow of a rifle- 
 butt, delivered by a Hun for no better reason than 
 that Hynes was the only one of a handful of 
 wounded who had sufficient strength to sit up. 
 
 " Audregnies boasted two convents. To one some 
 190 British wounded were taken, while an almost 
 equal number of wounded German soldiers were 
 placed in the other. The Audregnies fight was on 
 Monday. On Tuesday and Wednesday I lay in the 
 convent hospital occupied by the Germans. There 
 was no doctor for a day or so. The sisters worked 
 like Trojans and the Catholic father was never idle. 
 Both convents gave their morning toll to the ceme- 
 tery. 
 
 " The priest exhumed the body of Lieutenant 
 Garstin, of the 9th Lancers, and brought it for 
 identification outside the window near which I lay. 
 The villagers had given the poor chap a slight and 
 hasty burial; the father transferred the body to the 
 proper burying-ground, as well as those of two 
 Cheshire officers. These, too, he brought to me for 
 identification before interment. He carefully wrote 
 down the names as I took them from the marks on 
 the clothing, and the places of burial bear them, no 
 doubt, to-day. A kindly soul, that priest. He would 
 bring me an egg and a crust of bread at night under 
 his robe. I was fortunate in having a request for 
 transfer granted, and by Thursday was taken to 
 the convent over the way which housed the British 
 wounded. Two Belgian doctors came from Brus- 
 sels. One was taken ill at once and incapacitated, 
 
362 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 but his fellow was a splendid chap and an inde- 
 fatigable worker. He had hrdly ay bandages or 
 anaesethetics. Four other officers, all of them Che< 
 shires, were in the hospital, badly wounded. 
 
 " My damage was not serious. A shell had torn 
 up my scalp a bit, but I felt sound enough, although 
 my leg was very painful. I put it down to a sprained 
 ankle, and bound it tightly with a couple of puttees. 
 The doctor had too much work to do for me to 
 bother him with it. Not for some days did I dis- 
 cover that one of the bones in the lower part of my 
 leg was broken, though the pain at times brought 
 me to the conclusion that a sprained ankle was a 
 most unpleasant injury. 
 
 " Only a handful of German guards were about. 
 The sisters tended us, and I suppose they had the 
 feeding of us as well. By the end of the week I 
 had planned to escape, and to take Sergeant Hynes 
 with me. Monday, a week aftr the day of the fight, 
 was chosen for the attempt. The four Cheshire offi- 
 cers were our only confidants. They suggested sav<- 
 ing their food on the final day, so that we might 
 take some provender with us. 
 
 " During the morning a convoy of ambulances, 
 due on Tuesday, pulled up. That they had come a 
 couple of day before we had been told they would 
 arrive seemed likely to upset my plans. All was 
 bustle. Those best able to be moved were placed in 
 the ambulances at once. My heart sank. The doer 
 tor came to me, and as he examined me I felt sure 
 he would send me away then and there. By luck, 
 my eyes were terribly bloodshot from the explosion 
 of the shell that hit me, making me look much worse 
 than I really felt. After a moment's consideration 
 
APPENDIX 363 
 
 the doctor passed me over, saying I was to go with 
 the second convoy, which would come at daybreak 
 the next morning. 
 
 " Sure enough it came. As a forlorn hope, I 
 asked if I could hobble down to an orchard not far 
 away and pick some apples before leaving. Permis- 
 sion granted, I limped through the trees, Hynes 
 close behind. Under the fruit-laden branches we 
 passed, with no eyes for the red cheeks of the fine 
 apples within reach. Step by step we drew near to 
 the hedge at the far side. No one was in sight. A 
 last glance behind, a final effort to pull ourselves 
 together, and we ducked through the leafy barrier, 
 wriggled over a low wall, and rolled into a deep 
 ditch beside it. Crawling as fast as we could, we 
 followed this ditch for some hundreds of yards, 
 lying flat and worming along wherever the varying 
 depth made us nervous of possible discovery. We 
 were convinced we would be shot if found by the 
 Germans, The few guards at the hospital, the 
 many dead each morning, and the confusion of evac- 
 uating the wounded might, we hoped, result in our 
 escaped passing unnoticed. 
 
 , '? All day long we lay in the moist, muddy ditch- 
 bottom. I had begged a map from a Sister on the 
 iplea of locating some guns within earshot. She had 
 torn a map of sorts out of the back of a railway 
 guide, and it proved of inestimable value to us. We 
 planned to strike north, cross the Mons-Conde 
 Canal, and then make for some of the large Belgian 
 towns to the northwest. 
 
 " It was stiff, tiresome work lying quiet in the 
 ditch that day, but with brambles pulled together 
 over us we were in comparatively little danger of 
 
364 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 discovery. At dusk we crawled painfully out of our 
 hiding-place and slowly headed northward. Every 
 sound meant Germans to us, and our first mile was 
 a succession of limping and halting sallies forward, 
 interspersed with sudden dives underneath the hedge 
 by the roadside. At last we approached the point 
 where our road crossed the main highway from 
 Mons to Valenciennes. The moon was shining. 
 From our hedge shelter we could see long lines of 
 dusty shapes moving slowly towards Mons. Clank 
 or harness and the gear of guns and wagons sounded 
 regularly along the way. Now and then a rough 
 gutteral voice rasped out an order or an oath. We 
 waited for hours before a gap in the long, ghostly 
 line gave us courage to cross. We passed safely 
 enough after all, and skirting a couple of villages, 
 reached a haystack near the Mons-Conde Canal be- 
 fore daybreak. We were not far west of the town 
 of St. Ghislain. Before us lay the broad canal, 
 spanned a few hundred yards distant by a ruined 
 railway bridge, and a little further on by another 
 bridge, over which we could see Germans passing 
 in the growing light. At our backs was the home of 
 the owner of the stack. He made his appearance 
 at an early hour, and we hailed him. First he bolted 
 back into his house. After a bit he gingerly ap- 
 proached the stack, and finally we induced him to 
 mount the slight ladder against it. 
 
 " A little man he was, with a thin black beard, 
 great rings in his ears, and piercing shifty eyes. 
 Only a few moments passed before we found our 
 host was like to cause us trouble. He was all for 
 giving us up to the Germans, and said so frankly. 
 To be discovered harbouring us meant his house 
 
APPENDIX 365 
 
 burned and death for himself, he said. For a time 
 no argument could shake him. I told him the Brit- 
 ish were advancing behind us and would soon be in 
 Mons again. If he gave us up, or allowed harm to 
 come our way, woe to him whe our troops arrived. 
 It was a silly argument, but it wnn. He agreed re- 
 luctantly to let us stay unmolested until night, when 
 I promised we would swim the canal and make our 
 way northward. We lay close together as he piled 
 bundle after bundle upon us, until the sergeant felt 
 certain the little Belgian was trying to ensure our 
 being smothered. 
 
 " That was a tiring day, a hungry, thirsty day, but 
 we lay as still as mice. From out the straw we 
 could see German transports on the road, and what 
 appeared to be guards on the bridges, which hourly 
 reminded us of the necessity of keeping close cover. 
 " That night, about nine o'clock, we climbed down 
 from our hiding-place, went to the edge of the canal, 
 undressed, and waded out neck-deep. At the very 
 very moment I was about to start across Sergeant 
 Hynes had to confess his injured side would not al- 
 low him to swim twenty feet. It was a bitter disap- 
 pointment To return to the stack held little hope. 
 To try to go on might mean the death of one or both 
 of us from drowning. Choosing the less sure road 
 to disaster, we dressed and regained our nest at the 
 top of the stack, where we lay all night cursing our 
 bad luck and improvising fultile plans of escape. 
 
 " On Wednesday morning the stack shook with 
 the weight of someone ascending the ladder. ' Ger- 
 mans,' whispered Hynes. ' That light little Belgian 
 never made such a commotion.' The perspiration 
 broke out on my forehead. An age passed before 
 
366 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 the head of our visitor came into view. With incon- 
 ceivable relief we saw the smiling face of a Belgian 
 lady of most ample proportions. Blackbeard had 
 told her of his unwelcome guests. The widow of a 
 Belgian officer, she was as brave as an army. Rating 
 the little man for his idea of surrendering us, and 
 prevailing upon him to give up all thought of so 
 doing, she had hastened to us with a bottle of red 
 wine and a plate of beans. The Germans had taken 
 everything eatable or drinkable from her house save 
 these, she said. As to crossing the canal, she took 
 n that contract with alacrity. Having a bit of money 
 in her house, she told us she would arrange for a 
 skiff to be ready for us at nine o'clock that night. 
 
 " The day seemed brighter after her visit, and we 
 rested much more easily. Nine o'clock came at last. 
 With it the ample form of Madame, who, alas ! 
 could find no one who for any sum would venture to 
 take us across the canal. But her resources were by 
 no means exhausted. An urchin on a bicycle recon- 
 noitred the bridges, and brought back word that no 
 guard could be seen on the railway bridge. Though 
 it had been blown up and rendered useless for trains, 
 it afforded means for a crossing if we could climb 
 over one or two obstructions and escape being seen 
 by the guard on the road bridge beside it. We 
 started without delay or demur, after I had thanked 
 our brave benefactress in my best and most effusive 
 French. 
 
 " We found the bridge sadly damaged. Twisted 
 metals were coiled over the way, and many of the 
 timbers were torn bodily from the trestle work. A 
 barricade presented difficulties which were soon over- 
 come, and within a few minutes our feet trod the 
 
APPENDIX 367 
 
 north bank of the canal. We had crossed safely 
 and, apparently, undiscovered. Working north- 
 ward, we struck the road from Mons to Tournai. 
 At midnight we found we had made good time. 
 Just how, I don't know. We went round all the 
 villages and learned to anathematise all dogs in so 
 doing. My leg was growing more painful, but a 
 great stick helped me to hobble along at a fair pace. 
 At first we were unduly nervous. Faint moonlight 
 played strange games with our fancies. Once a tree 
 trunk held us at bay for some minutes before we 
 discovered it was not a German with a rifle. A 
 restless cow, changing her pasturage, sent us flying 
 to cover. A startled rabbit dashed across the road, 
 and I found myself face down in a gully before I 
 knew it. The night made odd sounds, each one of 
 sinister import to us. The wind sprang up, and in 
 the exercise of its privileges caused our hearts to 
 jump into our throats half a dozen times. 
 
 " By midnight we had reached and circled round 
 the village of Basecles, half-way from Mons to 
 Tournai. We were sadly in need of food and drink. 
 Approaching the house on the far side of the little 
 cluster of dark dwellings, we lay by the door and 
 under one of the windows listening for the heavy 
 breathing that might betoken German occupants. 
 All seemed quiet and propitious, so I gave a gentle 
 knock and explained in a low tone that we were 
 English and wished to enter. Sounds of commo- 
 tion came from the cottage. A light flashed from 
 the windows, an a woman's shrill voice advertised 
 our presence. A moment later, as we still waited 
 for the door to open, a light appeared in the next 
 
368 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 house, then the next. More feminine voices passed 
 the words, " Anglais ! Anglais ! " We had no de- 
 sire for such a reception, so hurried off towards 
 Tournai as fas as our disabilities would allow. Well, 
 it was we did so, for no sooner had we reached a 
 point some two or three hundred yards up the road 
 than several shots were fired, and a few sinister 
 bullets sang over our heads. We strained every 
 nerve to hurry. Fortunately there was no pursuit. 
 Nearly exhausted, and in rather bad case, we slowed 
 down after a time, only to become a prey to all our 
 former fears of night noises. A good-sized bird 
 flew else to my head and gave me a shock that lasted 
 many long minutes. Plodding along the highway, 
 the clatter of hoof-beats cming towards us sent us 
 to the roadside, where a ditch offered welcome 
 refuge. 
 
 " We jumped in, close together. At the bottom 
 we hit something soft, which turned beneath us and 
 gave a whistling grunt as our combined weight came 
 down upon it. We had jumped full on top of a man. 
 Who he was or what he was doing there were of no 
 moment to us. A sound from him might mean 
 recapture. The sergeant grappled him and crushed 
 out what breath remained in him. I lent a hand. As 
 a troop of German cavalry drew nearer we were well 
 on the way to choking our chance acquaintance. At 
 that very moment the Uhlans slowed from a trot to a 
 walk. We held our breath. At least I held mine, 
 while Hynes held his own and that of the third 
 member of our party. Gradually the horsemen drew 
 abreast, then past, then away. We waited until they 
 were well in the distance, and then examined the 
 man underneath. If we had been scared to have 
 
APPENDIX 369 
 
 jumped on him, he was more than scared to have 
 had us do so. 
 
 " The relief when we found him to be a Belgian 
 farmer, frightened out of his few wits, was truly 
 comic. The Germans had imposed severe penalties 
 on inhabitants who moved about between 8 p.m. and 
 6 a.m., he said. His quest remained unexplained, 
 except in so far as a sack of something we did not 
 examine might explain it. We advised him to remain 
 where he was until daybreak, and pressed on. Be- 
 fore dawn we took refuge in a shed behind a house 
 not far from Tournai. The distance we had covered 
 must have totalled from fiteen to eighteen miles, evi- 
 dence of what strength fear and desperation lend to 
 tired and broken feet. The owner of the premises 
 which we had chosen as sanctuary was a fine man, 
 courageous and full of resource. Learning who we 
 were, he took up from the outbuilding to his garret, 
 where he fed and tended us with a will. 
 
 " The Germans, he said, were not in force in 
 Tournai, being shiefly interested in obtaining pro- 
 visions therefrom. One train went each day to 
 Bruges, leaving just before eight in the evening. 
 Belgian guards were at the station, and the Germans 
 were unlikely to trouble their heads about who left 
 by the train during those days. Our host obtained 
 a cart, in which he secreted us, driving to the sta- 
 tion in such time that he arrived at the very mo- 
 ment of the train's departure. The engine whistled 
 as we jumped through the station door and made 
 for a carriage. But we were not to get away so 
 easily after all. We were capless. Our clothing 
 was torn to rags by thorns and brambles. Truly we 
 presented a sorry sight. We careered into a couple 
 
370 FROM MONS TO YPRES 
 
 of Belgian guards with fixed bayonets, who seemed 
 thereupon about to use them. Up went our hands, 
 and we panted incoherent protestations that we were 
 English. A look of utter incredulity came over the 
 faces of the stolid civic guards. Someone yelled 
 out that the Germans had come. Pandemonium 
 reigned. Two Irishmen jumped from the train and 
 recognised that we were really what we said we 
 were. They were getting through as refugees, but 
 thy managed to put us right with the two with the 
 bayonets. The commotion that had been started, 
 however, was not to be easily subdued. Passengers 
 piled on the platform in a hopeless panic crying 
 aloud their fear of the Huns. The crowd made for 
 the door of the station and there jammed. More 
 cries cames from the outside that the Germans were 
 coming. It was most unpleasant. A resourceful 
 chap dashed up to the engine-driver and explained 
 who we were. We were hustled aboard the train, 
 and without more ado it pulled out, leaving most of 
 its intending passengers behind. We threw our- 
 selves back on the soft cushions and heaved sighs of 
 relief. We were safe. At least it looked so. 
 
 " A wire sent to Bruges brought the ayor and two 
 soldiers with the inevitable bayoneted rifles to the 
 station to meet us. Only one train per day ran into 
 Bruges from the edge of the war zone. Thousands 
 of anxious Belgians awaited it in a great square, 
 eager for news of relatives and friends. 
 
 " Our appearance in a carriage with the Mayor 
 and what appeared to the assembled multitude to be 
 two guards gave rise to the belief that we were Ger- 
 man prisoners. Booing grew from a deep murmur 
 to an angry roar. The crowd surged forward. 
 
 $ R fl - 6 6. 
 
APPENDIX 37t 
 
 Things looked bad. The Mayor leapt to his feet. 
 The crowd stopped the carriage. Mounting a cush- 
 ion the Mayor, by dint of great exertion, gained a 
 moment of comparative quiet and told the people 
 we were escaped and wounded English soldiers. All 
 was changed in a twinkling. The crowd made its 
 onward rush — but to embrace us, not to tear us 
 asunder. Before we were through we became afraid 
 there was little to choose between the two. Our 
 troubles were over once we won through the square, 
 however, and next day we were sent to Ostend and 
 from there home, to good old London town." 
 
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