Special Correspondent With the British
Armies [Copyrighted in United States of America]
The May issue of Current History Magazine contained Philip Gibbs's
story of the great German offensive up to April 18, 1918. At that time
the Germans were seeking to break the British lines in front of Ypres,
as part of their drive for Amiens and the British Channel ports,
generally known as the battle of Picardy. The pages here presented are a
continuation of his eyewitness narrative of the most sanguinary battle
in history.
April 18.—The arrival of French troops on our northern front is
the most important act that has happened during the last three or four
days, and it was with deep satisfaction that we met these troops on the
roads and knew that at last our poor, tired men would get support and
help against their overwhelming odds.
Beside the khaki army of the British has grown very quickly an army
in blue, the cornflower blue of the French poilus. They are splendid
men, hard and solid fellows, who have been war-worn and weather-worn
during these three and a half years past, and look the great fighting
men who have gone many times into battle and know all that war can teach
them in endurance and cunning and quick attack.
As they came marching up the roads to the front they were like a
streaming river of blue—blue helmets and coats and blue carts and
blue lorries, all blending into one tone through these April mists as
they went winding over the countryside and through French market towns,
where their own people waved to them, and then through the villages on
the edge of the Flanders battlefields, where they waited to go into
action under shell-broken walls or under hedges above which British
shellfire traveled, or in fields where they made their bivouacs, and
fragrant steams arose to one's nostrils as cuistots lifted the lids of
stewpans and hungry men gathered around after a long march.
The attack this morning from Robecq, below St. Venant, down to
Givenchy, is a serious effort to gain La Bassée Canal and form a
strong defensive flank for the enemy while he proceeds with his battles
further north and also to get more elbow room from the salient in which
he is narrowly wedged below Merville.
For this purpose he brought up several more divisions, including the
239th, which was in the Somme fighting of March, but not heavily
engaged. This one attacked the British at Robecq and was repulsed with
heavy losses. It was at a place called La Bacquerolles Farm, near
Robecq, where after heavy shelling last night the enemy rushed one of
the outposts at 10 o'clock. In order to facilitate the attack this
morning of German divisions north and south at 4 o'clock the German guns
began a heavy bombardment of the British lines as far down as Givenchy
and maintained it for five hours, using large numbers of gas shells, on
account of the east wind, which was in their favor.
His guns shelled the bridges across the canal in the hope of
preventing the British supports going up. Then his troops came forward in waves
on a wide front. They were in immense numbers as usual, with many mixed
battalions. One of the British units today took prisoners from ten
different regiments. There were some ten German divisions facing four
British ones north of Béthune, and all along the line the troops
were much outnumbered; nevertheless, the enemy was repulsed at all but a
few points of attack and beaten back bloodily.
In this battle one regiment of the 42d German Division has lost over
50 per cent. of its strength, and other losses are on a similar scale.
These ghastly casualties have been piling up along this line between
Merville and Béthune since the 13th of this month, when the
Germans made a series of small attacks as a prelude to today's battle,
owing, it seems, to battalion officers taking the initiative without
orders from the High Command, in order to push forward and break the
British lines if they could find weakness there.
On the 13th and 14th some of the South Country troops were attacked
by strong forces repeatedly, and on the second day for five hours at a
stretch the enemy endeavored to come across from houses and inclosures
west of Merville toward St. Venant. For those five hours the South
Country lads fired with rifles, Lewis guns, and machine guns into solid
bodies of Germans, and their field guns tore gaps in the enemy's
formations and broke up their assemblies before the attacks could
proceed. One advance in five waves was mown down before it could make
any progress, and others were dealt with in the same way.
Mr. Gibbs describes the German repulse between Robecq and Givenchy
as a "black day for the enemy," and continues:
April 19.—At the end of the day all the enemy's efforts ended
in bloody failure, in spite of the daring and courage of his troops, who
sacrificed themselves under the British fire, but were only able to gain
a few bits of trench work and one or two outposts below the fortified
works at Givenchy, which are quite useless to them for immediate or
future use.
It was a big attack, for which they had prepared in a formidable way.
After the shock of their repulse by the Lancashire men of the 55th
Division they increased their strength of heavy artillery by three times
bringing up large numbers of howitzers, including eleven-inch monsters.
They were massed in divisions in front of us and determined to smash
through in the wake of a tremendous bombardment.
For five hours, as I said, this storm went on with high explosives
and gas, and the devoted British had to suffer this infernal thing, the
worst ordeal human beings may be called upon to bear, this standing to
while all the earth upheaved and the air was thick with shell
splinters.
But when the bombardment had passed and the German infantry came
forward the British received them with blasts of machine-gun fire,
incessant volleys of rifle fire, and a trench mortar bombardment that
burst with the deadliest effect among the attacking troops.
This trench mortar barrage of the British was one of the most awful
means of slaughter yesterday, especially when the enemy tried to cross
La Bassée Canal further north, and in that sector the infantry
and gunner officers say more Germans were killed yesterday along the
canal bank than on any other day since the fighting in this
neighborhood. One battery of trench mortars did most deadly execution
until their pits were surrounded, and only two of their crews were able
to escape.
The machine gunners fought out in the open after some of their
positions had been wiped out by gunfire, caught the enemy waves at fifty
yards' range, and mowed them down; but the enemy was not checked for a
long time, despite his losses, and when one body fell another came up to
fill its place and press on into any gap that had been made by their
artillery or their own machine-gun sections.
There was one such momentary gap
between a body of the Black Watch, who had been weakened by shellfire,
and some of their comrades further north, and into this the enemy tried
to force a way. Other Scottish troops were in reserve, and when it
became clear that a portion of the line was endangered by this turning
movement they came forward with grim intent, and by a fierce
counterattack swept through the gap and flung back the enemy, so that
the position was restored.
Further north some Gloucesters were fighting the enemy both ways, as
once before in history, when they fought back to back, thereby winning
the honor of wearing their cap badge back and front, which they do to
this day. The Germans had worked behind them as well as in front of
them, and they were in a tight corner, but did not yield, and finally,
after hard fighting, cleared the ground about them.
Meanwhile further south some Lancashire troops on the canal lost some
parts of their front line under an intense bombardment, but still fought
on in the open, repulsing every effort to drive them back and smashing
the enemy out of their positions, so that only remnants of the German
outposts clung on until late last night, up to which time there was
savage strife on both sides.
Extraordinary scenes took place on the canal bank when the enemy
tried to cross. In the twilight of early dawn a party came out of a wood
and tried to get across the water, but was seen by the British machine
gunners and shot down.
Then another body of men advanced and carried with them a floating
bridge, but when those who were not hit reached the water's edge they
found the bridge as fixed did not reach to the other side. Some of them
walked on it, expecting perhaps to jump the gap, but were shot off, and
other men on the bank also were caught under British fire.
A Corporal went down to the canal edge and flung hand grenades at the
Germans still struggling to fix the bridge, and then a Lieutenant and a
few men rushed down and pulled the bridge on to their side of the
bank.
Later this young officer saw one of the British pontoons drifting
down and swam to it and made it fast beyond the enemy's reach, but in a
position so that some of his men ran across and caught the enemy under
their fire on his side of the canal.
At 7 o'clock yesterday morning, while a handkerchief was hoisted by
the enemy, three hundred of them made signs of surrender. Some of them
changed their minds at the last moment and ran away, but 150 gave
themselves up, and some of them swam the canal in order to reach our
side for this purpose. They were shivering in their wet clothes and in
the northeast wind, which lashed over the battle lines yesterday, and
they were very miserable men.
Mr. Gibbs declares that had the Germans been able to pass Givenchy
or cross the canal north of Béthune on the 18th and 19th the
result would have proved disastrous. He gives credit for the repulse to
the British and French combined lines. He thus describes the achievement
of the Belgians on April 17:
The Germans on the 17th pressed the attack in force against the
Belgians. Besides three regiments of the 1st Landwehr Division usually
holding this sector, between the Ypres-Staden railway and Kippe, they
brought up from Dixmude—poor Dixmude, into whose flaming ruins I
went when it was first bombarded in October, 1914—two regiments of
the 6th Bavarian Division, and from the coast the 5th Matrosen Regiment
of the 2d Naval Division, with a regiment of the 58th Saxons. It was a
heavy force, and they hoped to surprise and annihilate the Belgian
resistance by their weight and quickness of attack.
The Belgians were waiting for them, standing, too, in those swampy
fields which they have held against the enemy for three and a half
years, always shelled, always paying daily a toll of life and limb, not
getting much glory or recognition because of the great battles
elsewhere, but patient and enduring as when I knew them on the Yser in
the first dreadful Winter of the war, and their little regular army
fought to a finish.
Even before the battle the German marines,
Saxon troops, and Landwehr suffered misery and lost many men. They lay
out in the flat, wet fields two nights previously, and were very cold,
and scared by the Belgian gunfire which burst among them. They had no
great artillery behind them, and the Saxons and German sailors now
prisoners of the Belgians curse bitterly because they were expected to
get through easily in spite of this.
The enemy's intention was to take Bixschoote and advance across the
Yser Canal, driving south to Poperinghe. What they did by their massed
attacks was to penetrate to a point near Hoekske, southeast of Merckem,
the main weight of their pressure being directed along the Bixschoote
road. The Belgians delivered a quick counterattack, with wonderful
enthusiasm among officers and men. They had perfect knowledge of the
country, and used this fully by striking up from a place called Luyghem
in such a way that the enemy was driven toward the swamp, where any who
went in sank up to his neck in the ice-cold water.
The Germans were cut off from their own lines and trapped. Seven
hundred of them surrendered, men of all the regiments I have mentioned,
and they seemed to think themselves lucky at getting off so cheaply,
though they quailed when they were brought back through the towns behind
the lines, and the Belgian women, remembering many things, raised a cry
as these men passed. It was not a pleasant sound. I heard it once in
France when a German officer passed through with an escort. It was a cry
which made my blood run cold. But there is gladness among the Belgian
troops, for they had long waited for their chance of striking, and made
good.
As heroic a story as anything in all this history of the last four
weeks is that of the medical officers, nurses, orderlies, and ambulance
men belonging to these casualty clearing stations, who were not far
behind the fighting lines when the battle began on March 21.
And then in a few hours they were on the
very edge of the enemy's advancing tide, so
that they were almost caught by it and had
to make brave efforts to rescue the wounded,
save their equipment, and get away to a
place where for a little while again they
could go on with their noble work until the
red edge of war swept up with its fire again
and they had to retreat still further.
I used to pass very often the outer ring of
those casualty clearing stations on the right
of the British line beyond Bapaume, in
the Cambrai salient, and away toward St.
Quentin.
They were almost caught on that day of
March 21 when the infernal bombardment
was flung over a wide belt of the British
lines, and the enemy stormed the defenses
and the British fought back in heroic rearguard
actions. It became a question of only
a few hours, sometimes of the last quarter
of an hour, when these brave medical officers
with the nurses and orderlies could get away.
It is always the rule of patients first, and
at Ham there were 1,200 wounded, and many
others in other places. The railways were
choked with military transport or destroyed
by shellfire. On the roads refugees were
mixed up with the transport and guns and
troops. It was a frightful problem, but the
medical staffs did not lose their nerve, and
set about the business of removal with fine
skill and discipline.
What wounded could walk were gathered
together and sent on to the roads to make
their way back as far as their strength
would carry them. The badly wounded were
packed into all the available ambulances
and sent away. The equipment had sometimes
to be put on any train, regardless of
its destination. It was gathered in afterward
from whatever place it went to.
A casualty clearing station of 1,000 beds
needs 100 lorries to move it, but nine lorries
take a full kit for 200 beds, and always nine
lorries moved off first after the wounded to
take up a new station further back and carry
on. The medical officers looked after the
surgical instruments and trundled them along
the roads on wheeled stretchers. One officer
went twenty-five miles this way and another
seventeen miles. The sisters, after the
wounded had left, were put on any vehicle
going back from the battleline.
During these days I saw them squeezed between
drivers and men on motor lorries, sitting
among the Tommies in transport
wagons, one at least on a gun limber, and
others perched on top of forage, still merry
and bright in spite of all the tragedy about
them, because that is their training and their
faith.
In this retreat one poor sister was killed
and another wounded. Many of them, with
the medical officers, lost their kits. At
Achiet le Grand, on March 21, a shell killed
eight orderlies and blew out the back of the
operating theatre, and at another village on a
second night, three ambulances were smashed
up by bombs. Two drivers, with some of
their patients, were killed, but all the
wounded were brought away from the outer
ring of casualty clearing stations safely, and
then from the second ring through Roye and
Marincourt, Dernacourt, and Aveluy.
At Roye there was no time to spare, owing
to the enemy's rapid advance, and seventy
patients remained with a medical officer and
twelve orderlies until they could be rescued,
if there was any possible chance. There
seemed at first no chance, but on the way
back to Villers-Bretonneux the medical officer
in command of the first convoy met some
motor ambulances and begged the drivers
to go into Roye and rescue those who had
been left behind. They went bravely and
brought away all the wounded and the staff,
and had no time to spare, because the last
ambulance came under the German rifle fire.
It is a strange and wonderful thing that the
patients do not seem to be harmed in any
way by this excitement and fatigue, and one
of the chiefs who made a tour of inspection
of all his clearing stations at this time tells
us he found all the wounded in good condition
and apparently no worse for their experience.
On April 24 the Germans attacked the important
village of Villers-Bretonneux, near
Amiens; it is on a hill above the Somme, and
was used as a corps headquarters and administrative
office by the British. The attack
was in great force, including tanks, the
first time they had been used by the Germans.
The initial assault was a success and the
Germans took the village and advanced
nearly a mile beyond—but let Mr. Gibbs tell
the rest:
During the night they were driven out by
Australian troops, who, by a most skillful
and daring piece of generalship, were sent
forward in the darkness without preliminary
artillery preparation, and, relying absolutely
on the weapons they carried to regain this
important portion, which gave the enemy full
observation of the British positions on both
sides of the Somme Valley beyond Amiens.
The splendid courage of the Australian
troops, the cunning of their machine gunners,
and the fine leadership of their officers
achieved success, and, in conjunction with
English battalions, they spent the night clearing
out the enemy from the village, where
he made a desperate resistance, and brought
back altogether
something like 700 or 800
prisoners.
It was a complete reversal of fortune for
the enemy, and in this twenty-four hours
of fighting he has lost great numbers of
men, whose bodies lie in heaps between Villers-Bretonneux
and Warfusee and all about
the ruins and fields in that neighborhood.
The attack on Villers-Bretonneux was made
by four divisions. They were the 4th Guards,
the 77th, quite new to this phase of the war,
the 228th, and the 243d. They were in the
full strength of divisions, twelve regiments
in each, and a great weight of men on such a
narrow front against one British division,
whose men had already been under frightful
fire and had been living in clouds of poison
gas with masks on.
An officer of the Middlesex was in a bit
of a trench when the first German tank attacked
his men on the east side of the village,
and it went right over him as he lay
crouched, and traveled on, accompanied by
bodies of troops.
The Middlesex and West Yorks put up a
great fight but had to give ground to superior
numbers. The East Lancashires, who were
the garrison of Villers-Bretonneux, were also
attacked with great odds, and after a brave
resistance fell back with the general line,
which took up a position toward the end of
this first phase of the battle west of Villers-Bretonneux
and in the edge of Bois Abbé
to the left of it. Into this wood in the course
of the day a German patrol of one officer
and forty men made their way and stayed
there out of touch with their own men, and
were taken prisoners last night.
The attack by the Australians was made
after 10 o'clock at night. It was difficult to
attack suddenly like this. There was no
artillery preparation. There should have
been a moon, but by bad luck it was veiled
in a thick, wet mist.
It was decided by the Australian General
that his men should go straight into the attack
with bayonet and machine gun, not
waiting for artillery protection which would
tell the enemy what was coming.
The plan of attack was to push forward
in two bodies and to encircle Villers-Bretonneux,
while some Northamptons and others
were in the centre with the order to fight
through the village from the north. This
manoeuvre was carried out owing to the
magnificent courage of each Australian soldier
and the gallantry of the officers.
The Germans fought desperately when they
found themselves in danger of being trapped.
They had nests of machine guns along the
railway embankment below the village, and
these fired fiercely, sweeping the attackers
who tried to advance upon them.
Those who worked around north and east
of the village also came under a burst of
machine-gun fire from weapons hidden among
the ruins and trenches, but they rounded up
the enemy and fought him from one bit of
ruin to another in streets which used to be
filled with civilian life only a few weeks ago
and crowded with staff officers and staff
cars, but now were littered with dead bodies
and raked by bullets.
The Australians captured two light field
guns, which the enemy had brought up in
the morning, according to his present habit
of advancing guns behind his third wave of
men, and several minenwerfer and many
machine guns.
During the night they and the English
troops seized over 500 men as prisoners and
sent them back, and several hundred seem
to have been routed out. Today, [the 25th,]
judging from these I saw myself, the living
were not so many as the dead.
It was fierce fighting in Villers-Bretonneux
and around it last night and this morning
the enemy fought until put out by bayonet,
rifle bullet, or machine gun. The Australian
officers say that they have never seen such
piles of dead, not even outside of Bullecourt
or Lagnicourt last year, as those who lie
about this village of frightful strife.
The German tanks, which were first seen
in this battle, though heavier than the
British, with bigger guns, have now beaten a
retreat, leaving one of their type in No Man's
Land. The tank has a high turret and thick
armor plates, and is steered and worked on a
different system from the British. One of
them was "killed" by a tank of the old
British class, and then the British put in
some of the newer, faster, and smaller types,
which can steer almost as easily as a motor
car, as I know, because I have traveled in one
at great pace over rough ground.
These set out to attack bodies of German
infantry of the 77th Division forming up
near Cachy. It was a terrible encounter,
and when they returned this morning their
flanks were red with blood. They slew Germans
not by dozens nor by scores, but by
platoons and companies. They got right
among the masses of men and swept them
with fire, and those they did not kill with
their guns they crushed beneath them,
manoeuvring about and trampling them down
as they fell. It seems to have been as bloody
a slaughter as anything in this war.
The furious battle for the possession of
Kemmel Hill, an eminence of strategic importance
in the Ypres region, occurred April
25, 26, and 27, and was as sanguinary as any
in Flanders. Although the Germans won the
hill, their victory involved such colossal sacrifices
that this deadly thrust ended their
serious offensive for the time. Mr. Gibbs's
description of this battle in part follows:
After several attempts against Kemmel
had been frustrated the enemy all went out,
April 25, to capture this position. Four divisions
at least, including the Alpine Corps, the
11th Bavarians, and the 5th, 6th, and 107th,
were moved against Kemmel in the early
morning fog after a tremendous bombardment
of the Franco-British positions. It was a
bombardment that begun before the first
glimmer of dawn, like one of those which
the British used to arrange in the days of
their great Flanders battles last year. It
came down swamping Kemmel Hill so that
it was like a volcano, and stretched away on
to the British lines on the left of the French
by Maedelstede Farm and Grand Bois down
to Vierstraat.
Then the German infantry attacked in
depth, battalion behind battalion, division
behind division, and their mountain troops of
Alpine Corps and Jägers and Bavarians
came on first in the assault of Kemmel Hill,
which was not much more than a hillock,
though it looms large in Flanders, and in
this war. The French had suffered a terrible
ordeal of fire, and the main thrust of
the German strength was against them.
The enemy struck in two directions to encircle
the hill and village of Kemmel, one
arrowhead striking to Dranoutre and the
other at the point of junction between the
French and British northward.
In each case they were favored by fog and
the effect of their gunfire. They were able
to drive in a wedge which they pushed forward
until they had caused gaps. The
French on Kemmel Hill became isolated and
there was a gulf between the British and the
French and between the French left and
right.
On the hill the French garrison fought with
splendid heroism. These men, when quite
surrounded, would not yield, but served their
machine guns and rifles for many hours, determined
to hold their positions at all costs,
and to the death. Small parties of them on
the west of the hill held out until midday or
beyond, according to the reports of the airmen,
who flew low over them, but by 9
o'clock this morning, owing to the gaps made
by the enemy, the French main line was
compelled to draw back from Kemmel.
They inflicted severe losses on the enemy
as they fell back and thwarted his efforts
to break their line on the new defensive
positions. Meanwhile a body of Scottish
troops were seriously involved. Some of their
officers whom I saw today tell me the fog
was so thick, as on March 21, that after a
terrific bombardment the first thing known
at some points a little way behind the line
was when the Germans were all around them.
The German army of assault upon Kemmel
and the surrounding country was under command
of General Sixt von Arnim, who was
the leading opponent of the Allies in the
long struggle of the first Somme battles, and
whose clear and ruthless intelligence was
revealed in the famous document summing
up the first phase of that fighting, when he
frankly confessed to many failures of organization
and supply, but with acute criticism
which was not that of a weak or indecisive
man.
Under his command as corps commanders
were Generals Seiger and von Eberhardt,
and they had picked troops, including the
Alpine Corps and strong Bavarian and Prussian
divisions specially trained for assault in
such country as that of Kemmel. Their plan
of attack to strike at the points of junction
between the French and British east of
Kemmel, and also at the French troops south
of it, near Dranoutre, proved for the time
successful, and by driving in wedges they
were able to make the Allies fall back on the
flanks and encircle Kemmel Hill after furious
and heroic fighting by the French and British
troops.
The British now were in weak numbers
compared with the strength brought against
them. Their withdrawal to the new lines of
defense by Vierstraat and the furious attacks
across the Ypres-Comines Canal gave
the enemy some ground in the region of St.
Eloi and the bluff and the spoil bank of the
canal itself. It is villainous ground there,
foul with wreckage of the old fighting.
British troops and Canadian troops were put
to the supreme test of courage to take and
hold these places. The glorious old 3d Division,
commanded in those days of 1915 and
1916 by General Haldane, fought from St.
Eloi to the bluff, month in and month out,
and lost many gallant officers and men there
after acts of courage which belong to history.
German storm troops made three violent
attacks on Locre, which were flung back by
the French, with heavy casualties among the
enemy, and it was only at the fourth attempt
with fresh reserves that they were able to
enter the ruins of the village, from which
the French then fell back in order to reorganize
for a counterattack. This they
launched today at an early hour, and now
Locre is in their hands after close fighting,
in which they slew numbers of the enemy.
After their success on April 25, when they
captured Kemmel, the Germans have made
little progress, and, though there was fierce
fighting all day yesterday, they failed to
gain their objectives, and were raked by fire
hour after hour, so that large numbers of
their dead lie on the field of battle. At 4 in
the afternoon they engaged in fresh assaults
upon the positions near Ridge Wood, to
which the line had fallen back, but English
and Scottish troops repulsed them and scattered
their waves. It was a bad day for
them because of their great losses. The British
have broken the fighting quality of some
of the enemy's most renowned regiments.
All the roads and camps around Ypres are
under a heavy, harassing fire once more,
Ypres itself being savagely bombarded by
high-explosive and gas shells, so that after
some months of respite those poor ruins are
again under that black spell which makes
them the most sinister place in the world.
Suicide Corner has come into its own again,
and the old unhealthy plague spots up by
the canal are under fire.
The enemy's guns are reaching out to fields
and villages hitherto untouched by fire, and
these harassing shots, intended, perhaps, to
catch traffic on the roads or soldiers' camps,
often serve the enemy no more than by the
death of innocent women and children. A
day or two ago a monstrous shell fell just
outside a little Flemish cottage tucked away
in an angle of a road which I often pass. It
scooped out a deep pit in the garden without
even scarring the cottage walls, but two
children were playing in the garden and were
laid dead beside a flower bed.
Yesterday a small boy I know went grubbing
about this plot of earth and brought
back a great chunk of shell bigger than his
head. Those are the games children play in
this merry century of ours. They are astoundingly
indifferent to the perils about
them, and sleep o' nights to the thunder of
gunfire not very far away, or slip their heads
under the bedclothes when bombs fall near.
But older folk find this gradual creeping up
of the war a nervous strain and a mental
agony which keeps them on the rack. It is
pitiful to watch their doubts and perplexities
and their clinging on to their homes and
property. Shells smash outlying cottages to
dust with their people inside them, but still
the people in the village itself stay on, hoping
against hope that the Germans' guns have
reached their furthest range.
"I shall not go till the first shell falls in
the middle of the square," said a girl.
Another woman said:
"If I go I lose all I have in life, so I will
risk another day."
They take extraordinary risks, and our
officers and men find some of them on the
very battlefields and in farmyards where
they unlimber their guns.
The enemy's losses in this continual fighting
have been severe. We have been able to
get actual figures of some of their casualties,
which are typical of the more general effect
of the British fire. Of one company of the
7th German Division which fought at St.
Eloi on Friday only 40 men remained out
of its full strength of 120.
The 4th Ersatz Division lost most
heavily, and a prisoner of the 279th Pioneer
Company, which relieved the 360th Regiment
of that division, says the average company
strength was fifteen men.
The entire regimental staff was killed by
a direct hit of a British shell on their headquarters
dugout near Cantieux. The same
thing happened to the battalion headquarters
of the 223d Regiment, which is now in a state
of low morale, having been fearfully cut up.
The 1st Guards Reserve Regiment of the
1st Guards Division, which was much weakened
in the fighting on the Somme and afterward
was sent to La Bassée, lost thirty-six
officers, including a regimental commander
and one battalion commander. These
losses are affecting inevitably the outlook
of the German troops on the prospects of
their continued offensive.
Prisoners from divisions which suffered
most confess they have no further enthusiasm
for fighting, and that their regiments can
only be made to attack by stern discipline
and the knowledge that they must fight on
or be shot for desertion.
On the other hand, the best German troops,
especially those now attacking in Flanders,
like the Alpine Corps and 11th Bavarian Division,
are elated and full of warlike spirit.
Even their prisoners profess to believe they
are winning the war and will have a German
peace before the year is out.
The Germans vainly launched desperate attacks
of unexampled fury against the British
and French lines in the Ypres region on April
29. Mr. Gibbs in his cable dispatch of that
date thus refers to these assaults:
It becomes clearer every hour that the enemy
suffered a disastrous defeat today. Attack
after attack was smashed up by the
British artillery and infantry, and he has
not made a foot of ground on the British
front.
The Border Regiment this morning repulsed
four heavy assaults on the Kemmel-La Clytte
road, where there was extremely hard fighting,
and destroyed the enemy each time.
One of the enemy's main thrusts was between
Scherpenberg and Mont Rouge, where
they made a wedge for a time and captured
the crossroads, and it was here that a gallant
French counterattack swept them back.
The British had no more than a post or two
in Voormezeele this morning, and the enemy
was there in greater strength, and sent his
storm troops through this place, but was
never able to advance against the fire of the
British battalions.
His losses began yesterday, when his troops
were seen massing on the road between
Zillebeke and Ypres in a dense fog, through
which he attempted to make a surprise attack.
This was observed by low-flying
planes, and his assembly was shattered by
gunfire. After a fierce shelling all night, so
tremendous along the whole northern front
that the countryside was shaken by its
tumult, German troops again assembled in
the early morning mist, but were caught once
more in the British bombardment.
At 3 o'clock a tremendous barrage was
flung down by the German gunners from
Ypres to Bailleul, and later they began the
battle by launching first an attack between
Zillebeke Lake and Meteren. South of Ypres
they crossed the Yser Canal by Lock 8, near
Voormezeele, which was their direction of
attack against the British, while they tried
to drive up past Locre against the French on
the three hills.
The successful defense has made the day
most bloody for many German regiments.
In order to turn them if frontal attacks
failed against the French, German storm
troops—they are now called grosskampf, or
great offensive troops—were to break the
British lines on the French left between
Locre and Voormezeele and on the French
right near Merris and Meteren. That obviously
was the intention of the German High
Command this morning, judging from their
direction of assault.
So far they have failed utterly. They
failed to break or bend the British wings on
the French centre, and they failed to capture
the hills, or any one of them, defended by
the French divisions.
They have attacked again and again since
this morning's dawn, heavy forces of German
infantry being sent forward after their
first waves against Scherpenberg and Voormezeele,
which lies to the east of Dickebusch
Lake, but these men have been slaughtered
by the French and British fire and made no
important progress at any point.
For a time the situation seemed critical
at one or two points, and it was reported
that the Germans had been storming the
slopes of Mont Rouge and Mont Noir, but
one of the British airmen flew over these
hills at 200 feet above their crests, and could
see no German infantry near them.
Round about Voormezeele, North Country
and other English battalions had to sustain
determined and furious efforts of Alpine and
Bavarian troops to drive through them by
weight of numbers, after hours of intense
bombardment, but the men held their ground
and inflicted severe punishment upon the
enemy.
All through the day the German losses have
been heavy under field-gun and machine-gun
fire, and the British batteries, alongside the
French seventy-fives, swept down the enemy's
advancing waves and his masses assembled
in support at short range.
There is no doubt that the French guarding
the three hills have fought with extreme
valor and skill. For a brief period the Germans
apparently were able to draw near and
take some of the ground near Locre, but an
immediate counterattack was organized by
the French General, and the line of French
troops swung forward and swept the enemy
back. Further attacks by the Germans north
of Ypres and on the Belgian front were repulsed
easily, and again the enemy lost
many men.
On April 30 Mr. Gibbs confirmed the details
of the disastrous German defeats on the two
preceding days and gave these further particulars:
It was the valor of Frenchmen as well as
Englishmen which yesterday inflicted defeat
upon many German divisions, and the Allies
fought side by side, and their batteries fired
from the same fields and their wounded
came back along the same roads, and the
khaki and blue lay out upon the same brown
earth.
I have already given an outline of yesterday's
battle, how, after a colossal bombardment,
the German attack early in the morning
from north of Ypres to south of Voormezeele,
where English battalions held the lines,
and from La Clytte past the three hills of
Scherpenberg, Mont Rouge, and Mont Noir,
which French troops held to the north of
Meteren, where the English joined them;
again, how the English Tommies held firm
against desperate assaults until late in the
evening; how the enemy made a great thrust
against the French, driving in for a time between
Scherpenberg and Mont Noir until
they were flung back by a French counterattack.
In the night the French, who had now regained
all the ground that had been temporarily
in the enemy's hands, made a general
counterattack and succeeded in advancing
their line to a depth of about fifteen hundred
yards beyond the line of the three hills, which
thereby was made more secure against future
assaults.
Meanwhile throughout the day the English
battalions had been sustaining heavy
assaults, breaking the enemy against their
front. The Leicesters, especially, had fierce
fighting about Voormezeele, where, as I told
yesterday, the enemy was in the centre of
the village. German storm troops advanced
against our men here and along other parts
of the line with fixed bayonets, but in most
places, except Voormezeele, where there was
close fighting, they were mowed down by
Lewis-gun fire before they could get near.
Line after line of them came on, but lost
heavily and fell back.
Over the ground east of Dickebusch Lake
some Yorkshire troops saw these groups of
field gray men advancing upon them, and the
glint of their bayonets, wet in the morning
mist, and swept them with bullets from the
Lewis guns and rifles until heaps of bodies
were lying out there on the mud flats in the
old Ypres salient. The most determined
assaults were concentrated upon the 25th
Division, but it held firm and would not
budge, though the men had been under fearful
fire in the night bombardment, and their
machine gunners kept their triggers pressed,
and bullets played upon the advancing Germans
like a stream from a garden hose.
The troops in the whole division yielded no
yard of ground and they hold that they
killed as many Germans as any battalion in
this battle. It was a black day for Germany.
More than ten German divisions, probably
thirteen, seem to have been engaged in this
attempt to smash our lines and encircle the
three hills. They included some of the
enemy's finest divisions, so they lost quality
as well as quantity in this futile sacrifice of
man-power—man-power which seems to mean
nothing in flesh and blood and heart and soul
to men like Ludendorff, but is treated as a
material force like guns and ammunition and
used as cannon fodder.
Referring to the French troops in this battle,
Mr. Gibbs wrote:
Today again I have been among the thousands
of French soldiers. It is splendid to
see them because of their fine bearing. They
are men in the prime of life, not so young as
some of the British and with a graver look
than one sees on British faces, when they
have not yet reached the zone of fire. They
are men who have seen all that war means
during these years of agony and hope and
boredom and death. They have no illusions.
They stare into the face of death unflinchingly
and shrug their shoulders at its worst
menace and still have faith in victory.
So I read them, if any man may read the
thoughts that lie behind those bronzed faces
with the dark eyes and upturned mustaches
under the blue painted helmets or the black
Tam o' Shanters.
They are not gay or boisterous in their
humor, and they do not sing like the British
as they march, but they seem to have been
born to this war, and its life is their life, and
they are professionals.
The Tricolor passes along the roads of
France and Flanders, and French trumpets
ring out across the flat fields below Scherpenberg,
and all the spirit of the French
fighting men, who have proved themselves
great soldiers in this war, as for thousands
of years of history, is mingled with our own
battalions. Together yesterday they gave
the German Army a hard knock.
In his cable of May 1 Mr. Gibbs gave details
of the extraordinary heroism of the
British Guards. He related incidents which
had occurred April 11 to 14, after the Germans
had broken through the Portuguese in
their efforts to widen the gap between Armentières
and Merville by gaining the crossings
of the Lys.
The Grenadier, Irish, and Coldstream
Guards were sent forward along the Hazebrouck-Estaires
road when the situation was
at its worst, when the men of the 15th Division
and other units had fought themselves
out in continual rearguard and holding actions,
so that some of those still in the line
could hardly walk or stand, and when it was
utterly necessary to keep the Germans in
check until a body of Australian troops had
time to arrive. The Guards were asked to
hold back the enemy until those Australians
came and to fight at all costs for forty-eight
hours against the German tide of men and
guns which was attempting to flow around
the other hard pressed men, and that is what
the Guards did, fighting in separate bodies
with the enemy pressing in on both flanks.
Greatly outnumbered, they beat back attack
after attack, and gained precious hours,
vital hours, by the most noble self-sacrifice.
A party of Grenadiers were so closely surrounded
that their officer sent back a message
saying:
"My men are standing back to back and
shooting on all sides."
The Germans swung around them, circling
them with machine guns and rifles and pouring
a fire into them until only eighteen men
were left. Those eighteen, standing among
their wounded and their dead, did not surrender.
The army wanted forty-eight hours.
They fixed bayonets and went out against
the enemy and drove through him. A
wounded Corporal of Grenadiers, who afterward
got back to the British lines, lay in a
ditch, and the last he saw of his comrades
was when fourteen men of them were still
fighting in a swarm of Germans.
The Coldstream Guards were surrounded in
the same way and fought in the same way.
The army had asked for forty-eight hours
until the Australians could come, and many
of the Coldstreamers eked out the time with
their lives. The enemy filtered in on their
flanks, came crawling around them with machine
guns, sniped them from short range and
raked them from ditches and upheaved earth.
The Coldstream Guards had to fall back,
but they fought back in small groups, facing
all ways and making gaps in the enemy's
ranks, not firing wildly, but using every
round of small-arms ammunition to keep a
German back and gain a little more time.
Forty-eight hours is a long time in a war
like this. For two days and nights the Irish
Guards, who had come up to support the
Grenadiers and Coldstreamers, tried to make
a defensive flank, but the enemy worked past
their right and attacked them on two sides.
The Irish Guards were gaining time. They
knew that was all they could do, just drag
out the hours by buying each minute with
their blood. One man fell and then another;
but minutes were gained, and quarters of
hours and hours.
Small parties of them lowered their bayonets
and went out among the gray wolves
swarming around them, and killed a number
of them until they also fell. First one party
and then another of these Irish Guards made
those bayonet charges against men with machine
guns and volleys of rifle fire. They
bought time at a high price, but they did not
stint themselves nor stop their bidding because
of its costliness.
The brigade of Guards here and near Vieux
Berquin held out for those forty-eight hours,
and some of them were fighting still when the
Australians arrived, according to the timetable.
Mr. Gibbs, in a dispatch dated May 3, gave
these vivid descriptions of the fighting in
the Locre-Dranoutre-Kemmel region:
On April 24 the German bombardment was
intensified and spread over a deep area, destroying
villages, tearing up roads, and making
a black vomit of the harrowed fields.
Dranoutre, Locre, Westoutre, and other
small towns were violently bombarded. That
night the French discovered that the Germans
were preparing an attack for the next
morning, to be preceded by a gas bombardment.
The officers warned all their men,
and they stood on the alert with gas masks
when at 3:30 in the morning thousands of
gas shells fell over them, mixed with high
explosives of all calibres up to the monster
twelve-inch, which burst like volcanic eruptions.
In the intensity of bombardment several
officers who fought at Fleury said: "This
is the most frightful thing we have seen.
Verdun was nothing to it."
All the French troops jammed on gas
masks, and on one day put them on fifty
times, only removing them when the wind,
which was fairly strong, blew away the
poison fumes until other storms of shells
came. For nearly a week they wore them
constantly, sleeping in them, officers giving
orders in them, and the men fighting and
dying in them and charging with the bayonet
in them. It was worth the trouble and suffering,
for this French regiment between
Locre and Dranoutre had only twelve gas
casualties.
That morning the German attack fell first
on Kemmel Hill, which they turned from
the north, and two hours later, the bombardment
continuing all along the line, they developed
a strong attack against Dranoutre in
the south in order to take Locre and turn
the French right. Until evening the troops
on Kemmel Hill, with a small body of British,
still held out with great devotion in
isolated positions, but by 8 o'clock that
morning Kemmel Hill was entirely cut off.
This was a severe menace to their comrades
at Locre and southward, because both
their flanks were threatened. They did heroic
things to safeguard their right and left,
which again and again the enemy tried to
pass. I have already told in a previous
message how a gallant French officer and
a small company of men made a counterattack
at Dranoutre and held the post there
against all odds.
Up by Locre the commandant of the left
battalion found machine-gun fire sweeping
his left flank, and his men had to face left
to defend their line. Small parties of Germans
with machine guns kept filtering down
from the north and established themselves
on the railway in order to rake the French
with an enfilade fire.
One French company, led by devoted
officers, counterattacked there five times
with the bayonet into the sweep of those
bullets, and by this sacrifice saved their
flank. Another company advanced to hold
the hospice. There was desperate fighting
day after day, so that its ruins, if any bits
of wall are left, will be as historic as the
château at Vermelles, or other famous houses
of the battlefields.
French and Germans took it turn and turn
about, and although the enemy sent great
numbers of men to garrison this place they
never were able to hold it long, because always
some young French Lieutenant and a
handful of men stormed it again and routed
the enemy. When it was taken last on April
29, the day of the enemy's severe defeat,
the French captured 100 prisoners in the
cellars there, and they belonged to fourteen
battalions of four regiments of three divisions,
showing the amazing way in which the
enemy's divisions have been flung into confusion
by the French fire.
On the morning of April 26 French companies
made six attacks, and in the afternoon
two more, and though their losses were
heavy, that evening both the village and
hospice of Locre stayed in their hands. That
night, their men being exhausted for a time
after so many hours under fire, they withdrew
their line a little to the Locre-Bailleul
road by the Château of Locre and west of
Dranoutre in order to reorganize a stronger
defense. The German bombardment slackened
on the morning of April 28 owing to fog,
and those few hours on that day and one
other were the only respite these French
troops had from the incessant and infernal
gunfire when, owing to open warfare, "en
rase campagne," as the French call it, as in
1914, without a complete system of trenches
or dugouts or other artificial cover, they were
much exposed.
"There were ten big shells a second," one
of these officers told me, "and that lasted,
with only two short pauses, for six days all
through the battle, and other shells were uncountable."
The enemy had brought up light artillery
and trench mortars almost to his front lines
in Dranoutre Wood and other places and attempted
to take the French in an enfilade
fire from Kemmel, but by this time many
French guns were in position, reinforcing the
British artillery, and on the 28th they opened
up and killed great numbers of the enemy.
Allied aviators saw long columns of Germans
on the roads by Neuve Eglise and in
Dranoutre Wood, and signaled to the guns
to range on these human targets. The guns
answered. Masses of Germans were smashed
by the fire and panicstricken groups were
seen running out of Dranoutre Wood.
That night the Germans seemed to be relieving
their troops, and again the French
and British guns flung shells into them, and
for the enemy it was a night of death and
horror; but the next day, the 29th, the enemy
made reply by a prolonged bombardment,
more intense even than before, and then attacked
with new troops all along the line.
But the French also had many fresh troops
in line—not those I met yesterday—who at 2
o'clock in the morning went forward into attack
and took back the village. This defeated
the enemy's plan of turning the French
left.
All through that day the enemy's desperate
efforts to break through were shattered, and
that night the French held exactly the same
ground as before and had caused enormous
losses to the German divisions, at least 40
per cent. of their strength, as it is reckoned
on close evidence.
That night even the German guns stopped
their drumfire, as though Sixt von Arnim's
army was in mourning for its dead. It was
a night of strange and uncanny silence after
the stupendous tumult, but for those French
regiments who had been holding the line for
nearly a week it had been a day of supreme
ordeal.
There were no general engagements during
the preceding five days nor up to May 18,
but incessant artillery fire was kept up and
raids were constantly made. On May 5 Mr.
Gibbs described the difficulties encountered
by the Germans in preparing for a new
advance:
The enemy has many divisions, both up in
the Flemish fields and on the Somme, divisions
in line and divisions in reserve—divisions
crowded in reserve—and there are few
roads for them down which to march. There
is not much elbow room for such masses to
assemble, and not much cover in trenches
or dugouts from high explosives or shrapnel.
So we pound them to death, many of them
to death and many of them to stretcher
cases, and relief comes up, gets wildly mixed
with the divisions coming down, and at night
there is mad confusion in the ranks of
marching men and transport columns, which
gallop past dead horses and splintered
wagons and wrecks of transport columns,
and among the regimental and divisional
staffs, trying to keep order in the German
way when things are being smashed into
chaos, while the Red Cross convoys are over-loaded
with wounded and unable to cope
with all the bodies that lie about.
This is what is happening behind the German
lines—I have not overdrawn the picture,
believe me—and it is upsetting somewhat
the plans of the high German officers
who are arranging things from afar through
telephones, down which they shout their
orders.
In his dispatch of May 9 the following was
written to describe the difficulties of the
Germans in reorganizing their battered
forces:
From many points the British have complete
observation of the enemy's positions
there, as he has of theirs from the other side
of the way, and, needless to say, they are
making use of this direct view by flinging
over storms of shells whenever his transport
is seen crawling along the tracks of the old
Somme battlefields or his troops are seen
massing among their shell craters.
The town of Albert itself, where once until
recent history the golden Virgin used to
lean downward with her babe outstretched
above the ruins, is now a death trap for the
German garrisons there and for any German
gunners who try to hide their batteries
among the red brick houses. By day and
night their positions are pounded with high
explosives and soaked in asphyxiating gas.
I went within 2,000 yards of it yesterday,
and saw the heaviest work of the British
upon it. It was a wonderful May day, as today
is, and the sun shone through a golden
haze upon the town. As I looked into Albert
and saw the shells smashing through, and then
away up the Albert-Bapaume road, past the
white rim of the great mine crater of La
Boiselle to the treeless slopes of Posières, and
over all that ground of hills and ditches to
the high, wooded distant right, with its few
dead stumps of trees, it was hard to believe
that all this was in the area of the German
Army, that the white, winding lines freshly
marked upon this bleak landscape were new
German trenches, and that the enemy's outposts
were less than 2,000 yards from where
I stood.
Some siege gunners were lying on their
stomachs and observing the enemy's lines for
some monsters I had seen on my way up, monsters
that raised their snouts slowly, like elephants'
trunks, before bellowing out with an
earthquake roar, annihilating all one's
senses for a second. Some of the men passed
the remark to me that "Albert isn't the
town it was" and that "Fritz must be having
a thin time there." They also expressed
the opinion that the Albert-Bapaume road
was not a pleasant walk for Germans on a
sunny afternoon.
I did not dispute these points with them,
for they were beyond argument. Big shells
were smashing into Albert and its neighborhood
from many heavy batteries, raising volcanic
explosions there, and shrapnel was
bursting over the tracks in white splashes.
In describing the artillery fire which broke
up a threatened assault on May 5, Mr. Gibbs
wrote:
A new German division, the 52d Reserve,
and the 56th German Division prepared an
assault on Ridge Wood. All these men were
crowded into narrow assembly grounds and
did not have quiet hours before the moment
of attack. They had hours of carnage in the
darkness. British and French guns were
answering back the German bombardment
with their heaviest fire. French howitzers,
long-muzzled fellows, which during recent
weeks I had seen crawling through Flanders
with the cornflowers, as the French soldiers
call themselves, crowded about them on the
gun limbers and transport wagons and
muddy horses, and which had traveled long
kilometers, were now in action from their
emplacements between the ruined villages of
the Flemish war zone, and with their little
brothers, the soixante-quinzes, their blood-thirsty
little brothers, were savage in their
destruction and harassing fire.
I have seen the soixante-quinze at work
and have heard the rafale des tambours de la
mort—the ruffle of the drums of death—as
the sound of their fire is described by all soldier
writers of France. It was that fire, that
slashing and sweeping fire, which helped to
break up any big plan of attack against the
French troops yesterday morning, and from
those assembly places a great part of the
German infantry never moved all day, but
spent their time, it seems, in carrying back
their wounded.
Mr. Gibbs on May 11 described a visit to
Arras, as follows:
Since the beginning of these great battles in
bleak, cold weather Spring has come, and almost
Summer, changing all the aspect of the
old battlefields and of the woods behind
craterland and of the cities under fire.
I went into one of those cities the other day,
Arras, which to me and to many of us out
here is a queerly enchanted place because of
its beauty, which survives even three years of
bombardment, and because of the many great
memories which it holds in its old houses
and streets and the sense of romance which
lurks in its courtyards and squares, reaching
back to ancient history before its death. For
Arras is dead and but the beautiful corpse
of the city that was once very fair and noble.
During the recent weeks the enemy has
flung many big explosive shells into it, so
that its ruins have become more ruined
and many houses hardly touched before have
now been destroyed. It was sad to see this
change, the fresh mangling of stones that
had already been scarred, the heaps of masonry
that lay piled about these streets that
were utterly deserted. I walked down many
of them and saw no living soul, only a few
lean cats which prowled about, slinking close
to the walls and crouching when a German
shell came over with a rending noise.
Bright sunlight shone down these streets,
putting a lazy glamour upon their broken
frontages and flinging back shadows from
high walls, except where shell holes let in
the light. The cathedral and the great Palace
of the Bishops were unroofed, with tall pillars
broken off below the vaulting and an avalanche
of white masonry about them. They
were clear-cut and dazzling under the blue
sky, and one was hushed by the tragic
grandeur of these ruins.
One of the British airplanes flew low over
the city, and its engine sang loudly with a
vibrant humming, and now and again the
crash of a gun or a shell loosened some stones
or plaster below its wings. Other birds were
singing. Spring birds, who are not out for
war but sweethearting in the gardens of
Arras.